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satoruhour · 6 months

Note

thinking of full nelson with geto right in front of a mirror while he plays your pussy and then decides to bring in his favourite vibrator and overstimulate you while praising you for taking him and the vibe so well OH MY GOD 😣😣

a/n: WOAAAHH im back ??!! this was so hot and im on my second day of my period and i am HORNY!!!!!! also technically over 2k but im lazy to make it a fic bc fics need LORE and i hardly did anything with this / tagging @na-t0 @crysugu @shotorus @slttygeto @suguruplsr ♱

warnings: non-curse au but geto still adopts miminana, feelings of insecurity from reader, soft dom! geto, fem!reader, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, clit stimulation, multiple rounds, unprotected sex, use of toys (specifically a vibrator), praise, pet names, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

you always knew geto liked to decorate — whether it’s your room after you moved in with him or the girls’ playroom after he took them in. he knew a lot of differences between marble and parquet, or whether you guys would use a bathtub or a cubicle more. geto liked you to accompany each time he planned to upgrade the girls’ room, which turned into rooms, after mimiko complained her sister kept messing up her books and nanako only commented on how ‘mimiko’s depressing state made the whole room look like a confessional booth’.

you both laughed and kissed their foreheads after because you know they’ll make up in no time, and you know that you wouldn’t have this life any other way — geto, a high-school sweetheart who’s now a teacher, taking care of your girls who you both took in willingly at a young age.

but you’ve always wondered why he liked having mirrors on his ceiling — whether it was his questionable design tastes or whether it was a dare from satoru, you never understood why he’d want to have him staring back at himself whenever he woke up or went to sleep. you should’ve known geto would want to use it for this.

“su—” your eyes are scrunched close, not bearing to look at your nude body from above you. he swore it was everything he ever loved, from your pretty tits to the way you stomach heaves at his hands and it was perfect timing for him to make you appreciate yourself in all your glory as he eats you out—

“aht, no, baby,” his tongue on your clit halts, your hole clenching around his fingers for more stimulation again, “eyes up at yourself.”

“but . .” you prop yourself up on your elbows and pout down at him and you think the mirror should be used for your lover instead; hair tousled, fringe falling all over his face, bottom half of his face soaked with your cum, the smile he gives you makes you clench again and his smile is so teasing you feel embarrassed again.

“but what, baby?” geto moves his fingers slowly, pumping them into you as they reach deep in you and your argument fades from your mind and lips, words descending into moans as your hips move against him. “weren’t you the one telling yourself you weren’t beautiful?”

he doesn’t wait for your answer, latching his mouth back on your puffy clit and sucks and sucks, loving the way you lose all strength and fall back onto your upper back. your whines reverberate throughout the room, one hand tangled in suguru’s long hair while the other holds onto the sheets and you feel so lightheaded. your pussy’s squelching so much and the way he eats you out is just filthy, slobbering over your juices while his fingers stretch you out.

“mhm— sweet fuckin’ pussy,” he moans into your cunt, feeling the bed move beneath you and you just know he’s grinding into the bed from how much he loves your pussy, “look at yourself, princess.”

“i— i am,” you whine softly, looking at your body writhe under geto and your mouth opened in sensuality. you’re still on the fence about it, “i am.”

geto hums into your folds, eyes closing once knowing you were obeying him, continuing his assault on you with a relentless tongue and even faster fingers. by now you can feel yourself getting close, as with geto since he knows your body so well that praises fall from his lips and you only tug harder on his hair.

“close?” it’s quick, the question, because he can never get enough of you and your sweetness and just has to get back to it right away, cracking open an eye just for a moment to see your pleading eyes. he knew you’d be looking at him, a cute little pout on your face and big doe eyes, begging.

“y—yeah, suguru . .” you mumble, other hand finding his hair, too, before grinding your hips into his mouth. a distorted moan leaves your lips when you feel him curl his fingers in you, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you struggle to get a grip on reality. “f-fuck, su— w’nna cum, pleasepleaseplease!”

“gettin’ to it,” he’s mumbling now, words muffled by your pussy as his tongue and fingers increases in speed, the noises of your cum adding so much to the experience that you’re endlessly whimpering, mantras of his name added to the echo of the room, “cum for me, baby, you can do it.”

“fuuuck, suguru—” your moans reach the heavens, mind spiralling with the way geto was making you feel. his jaw hurts, your legs tremble, your head spins and you’re cumming into his hands, reflections of your pleasure reflected back at you from above. your back arches off the bed as you coat his fingers with your juices, tongue licking and flicking your clit through the mind-blowing orgasm, and all your boyfriend does is smile at your sensitive state once you come down.

“noisy little girl,” he teases, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

you frown in faux sadness, “’cause of you.”

geto only hums, trailing up your body and catching you in his embrace, easily helping you atop him. from there his head pokes out from behind your head and you give a small smile through the ceiling mirrors.

“hi.” you say softly, shy at how exposed your body was and how shameless he seemed to love it.

“hi, baby.” your chest still breathes hard, body heating up from the way geto treats you, “you still think you’re unattractive?”

it was a trick question; it was the thing that got you here in the first place, or even the first thing that inspired geto to install mirrors — and you’re confident you’re in for a long ride no matter what your answer may be. but the one thing you both established was to always be honest, and you’re not too fond of yourself today. you’d take your chances and lie, but geto would see right through your lies, hesitance and flustered demeanour and all that.

“a little, su—” you frown at him through the mirror, and you find that what they say is true. saying it is equal to internalising it and you find now that your body looks a little weird and your hair frames your face in an unnatural way; geto stops your thoughts from worsening almost immediately.

“look at me,” you think he’s referring to his reflection but he turns your head towards him easily with a small chuckle, “no, the real me.”

“you’re the prettiest little sweetheart i’ve laid my eyes upon, ever.”

you blow a raspberry, “you’re lying.”

“i’m not!” geto laughs again, letting you turn your upper body toward him, “being as truthful as a boys’ scout, cross my heart.”

you hum, letting your boyfriend take you into a sweet, slow kiss to calm you down. before long you can already feel his pulsing bulge below you, begging to be let out of his constraints.

“i’ll trust you.” a little grin shows on his face at your words, pressing one last kiss to your turning face and looking at you through the mirror.

“i want you to.” he mumbles, distracting you with feather-like kisses on your neck as he uses his hands to pull down his underwear. he lifts both his hips and you easily, strong like that before you feel the slap of his cock along your legs and a soft apology. “i want you to trust me with every fibre of your being when i tell you you’re the one i want for the rest of my life, when i tell you you’re the most stunning. do you trust me?”

“i trust you, suguru,” you swallow when you feel him drag your tip along your folds, collecting your slick with mouth opening in a silent moan. geto takes that opportunity to crash his lips into yours, nudging his tip just past your tight pussy and you just need to do something, clutch onto something, fingers tightening around his forearms.

“feel that?” suguru breathlessly asks, short breaths leaving his mouth and warming your neck, “feel how your pussy was made for me?”

“y—yeah,” you mumble and whine, head tipped up against his neck before his hands naturally go under your knees, spreading you so he’d go deeper, “s’full . .”

inch by inch, he eases his cock in you, so wet that he doesn’t need to prep you again and he groans continually at your walls snugly hugging him, “i know you know the feeling, baby, but now i want you to look.”

you reluctantly turn your head from the safeness of his neck, looking towards your reflection and then where you two was connected, to his cock buried deep in you. he‘s not even fully in, finding that he was staring at you from below you.

“prettiest girl with the prettiest cunt, hm?” his talk is dirty always, letting his hips grind into yours from below. geto likes dirty, just as he brings your legs closer and closer to your chest and hears you moan out his name. he looks drunk off your pussy, hooded lids and parted lips and all, whispering, “i hope you know that.”

your lover doesn’t give you time to breathe, making your jaw drop open when he thrusts up into you from below and loving the way your eyes widen in your reflection. geto does not know where to stare more: your pussy sucking him in so well or your expressions, switching between the both as he makes you sob and cry on his cock.

“sugu— s-shit . .” you’re lightheaded already, knowing he‘d want you to keep your eyes locked on the mirror as you get fucked senseless, cock driving into you so violently with every snap of his hips. they set an animalistic pace, spurts of your cum spraying everywhere.

“doing so well,” he swears under his breath, before he’s pulling your legs towards him even more, “bend a little more for me— yesss . . that’s it, sweetheart.”

your mewls reach an all time high once he’s got one hand secured on your nape, pulling you into a full nelson that your head even struggles to look at your connected bodies in the mirror, but you can just almost see your face morphed into pleasure: tongue out and cunt so pliant for your boyfriend, until you’re spotting geto’s other hand moving to your clit. he knows you’re close already, driven to the brink of sensitivity once he rubs at your bundle of nerves, and your right thigh starts to shake.

“clenching around me s’hard i can hardly move, f-fuck—” he laughs softly, hips still pistoning in you, hand rubbing violently along your clit over and over and—

“suguru— cum— cumming, cumming—!” you clench the hardest you’ve ever done, orgasm hitting you like a freight train until you’re shivering in his hold, neck hurting from being in full nelson but your boyfriend doesn’t stop his thrusts, not when you’re moaning so nicely for him. your mind’s blank except for suguru, countless whines of his name escaping your lips.

“there we go . .” he hums, focused on your pussy twitching as he rubs you through your orgasm where your entrances stretches to accommodate his fat cock — all he does is give you a little of a break and slows down, releasing you from the position briefly. until you can hear the drag of the bedside drawer; with his hands he takes out a vibrator, the one thing you simultaneously love and hate.

you know with how much you beg with your eyes, geto will still eventually use it on you, but you’re always tempted by his words.

“i’ll be gentle, i promise.” “just relax, baby.” “i’ll try not to overstim you.” he’s said all these before with a sly grin and you know he just can’t control himself when it comes to you.

“hold your legs for me, my darling.” he whispers and you obey his rasp, exchanging glances through the mirror when he starts it up and the buzz gives you an initial shock — geto laughs, you pout.

“why’d you laugh,” you huff, momentarily forgetting he has his whole cock in you.

with one arm, he wraps it around your middle while the other just presses the vibrator dangerously close to your puffy, aching clit, and he starts his hips again, bullying his throbbing dick into you with little effort.

“su . . do we really gotta?”

“’course,” geto grins, pressing a kiss to your neck, “wanna see you absolutely ruined because of me.”

“yeah, but you can do it without the vibe.”

your boyfriend only hums, “nah.”

geto liked teasing, way too much, giving you a brief warning of keeping your legs spread for him before he slams into you, hand pressing the vibrator into you and you sob out his name. the fast buzz of the toy has you squirming around on his front, arms already losing the strength to hold your legs up.

“suguru—!” you’re moaning loudly, your cum making the scene even more lewd with how wet you were. “s-sensiti—”

you can feel him grin into your neck, pressing the strong vibrator deeper into your clit which is starting to turn numb, mind muddled with the thickness of his length stretching and spreading you. every slap of his balls upon your ass is noisy and loud but your moans are even louder.

“sloppy fuckin’ pussy,” he rasps out, eyes trained on the way you limply hold up your legs like a good girl and let him use you like a ragdoll, “so goddamn wet for me.”

geto increases the speed of the vibrator and you jolt in surprise, mouth dropping open in surprise. he smiles at you through the mirror, admiring your body on display as you take him well time and time again, so satisfied with his investment in mirrors on the ceiling.

“cream on my cock, baby,” geto mumbles into your ear and you whine, fingernails digging into your own skin they might as well bruise and create marks, but you need suguru in some way — you let go one of your legs, blindly finding his fingers with yours and twining them.

“c’mon, c’mon, i’ve got you,” he reassures you from below, creating hickeys in the safety of your neck while his hips do the sinful opposite, thrusting into you in an unforgiving speed. “want to feel you cum all over me, pretty girl.”

the praise is through the roof, making you writhe in his hold just to get away from the ruthlessness of the toy and his dick, too sensitive from all the sensations. but you love it all the more, wanting to do everything geto says just so you’d hear your name from his lips over and over.

“i’m cumming— haaah . . ” you’re jerking in his hold, “su— su, i’m c—” but you’re already orgasming, legs not even able to be held up that you let go of them so they can freely tremble and you can squeeze your eyes shut. you’re clamping down so hard around suguru that he has to moan too, holding one leg for you while the vibrator still goes on, sending you into overstimulation quickly. “suguruuu . .”

little short pants leave you, rendered utterly speechless as you ride out your orgasm, although your boyfriend doesn’t stop. his thrusts turn sloppy, now, hips fatigued and brain turned to mush by your gummy walls.

“cumming— g’nna give you a big load, baby—” geto grunts out, tossing the vibrator to the side and grabbing both your legs to fold you deeper, tip brushing up against your sweet spot that you whine lewdly again, and that’s all it takes before he’s shooting his cum deep in you, painting your insides white. it’s so hot and heavy, paired with the deepness of his voice rumbling beside your ear that it makes you moan softly, feeling fuller and fuller by the second. “oh . . fuuuck—”

“t-take me so well, don’t you?” suguru murmurs, purposely propping his hips a little higher, “watch my cum drip out of you.”

he was disgusting, and yet you turn your eyes towards the mirrors, hearing and seeing the soft shlick! that sounds out when he removes his cock before white spills out and you bite your lip at the sight.

“she likes to be bred, huh?” you hum softly at the question, drunken expression taken in by the other as he also gives you a slightly tipsy smile.

“shut up— shit’s embarrassing.”

geto grabs your chin, squishing your cheeks together and whispering against your lips, “then i’ll fuck you full of my cum until it’s not, until you know you’re the most beautiful in my eyes, yeah?”

yeah, you could do that.

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janitorhutcherson · 5 months

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i'm totally NOT touch starved so IM TOTALLY NOT asking for peeta mellark and touch starved reader... totally NOT. (i love your writing sm ☺️)

i am FINALLY giving the people what they want!! i know this isn't a whole fic/imagine but instead headcanons, BUT! it is finally peeta. i promise there will be more peeta content in the future. im working my way through the movies again and im about to reread the books, i want to be accurate about his portrayal so y'all feel like its more realistic, but here is a lil taste of what is to come! i rly hope you enjoy <3 btw!! this takes place after EVERYTHING in the books. ur basically katiness.

• Peeta is a huge softy, he's cuddly, loving, affectionate, and definitely touch starved himself. He's the type of guy to mostly have his own contact with you in some way. Sometimes he will grip onto your arm, he'll have his arm around your shoulder or your waist, or even just grip onto your shirt. When you're sitting on the couch, he opts to sit hip to hip even when the entirety of the couch is empty. When you're not cuddling in bed, you're facing opposite sides, sleeping butt-to-butt. Even with that being said, sometimes Peeta needed some space, his own bubble. You, however, did not love that.

• This is exactly why it was somewhat difficult for Peeta to understand touchstarved!reader. Regardless of how close you were, you needed more. Anytime you're walking in the district, rather it's to pick up some ingredients for the bakery or simply a leisurely walk, if he opted not to hold on to you in some way, you'd freak a little. You'd grip onto his hand, either squeezing it in yours or holding onto his larger fingers.

• Whenever dishes were being done or chores were tended to, you would wrap your arms around his waist from behind or follow him at the heel. You were desperate for his attention, his affection, his touch. Without it, you felt cold and disconnected. His touch pleased the ache that prickled against your skin from years of desperately wanting to be held.

• At night, you'd squeeze up under his arm. Your head would be tucked into his armpit, your arms wrapped around him as you tugged him close, closing your eyes and taking in his smell. When you'd fall asleep facing away from each other, Peeta wouldn't even notice you flip over to face him once he was fast asleep, curling up against him, squeezing him tightly like your life depended on it.

• In all honesty? It felt like your life did depend on it. You were a tribute alongside with Peeta, you'd both been through hell and back together. You had nightmares and he was the only one that could ground them. Part of your touch starved desperation came from the times you were alone, afraid, for yourself, for your lover. It was difficult.

• A lot of nights Peeta would ensure he'd hold you close, all too aware that he was the cure to your nightly insanity. This made you feel better, softer, warmer. On days when you were simply cuddling in bed together, you felt like you couldn't get enough. Your legs would be tangled with his, your foreheads touching, arms wrapped around one another. But nothing felt good enough. In instances like these, you would climb into his shirt, sticking your head through the hole for his own head, one that was stretched out from the many times you'd done this, one he specifically designated as his lounge shirt for this reason. Other times you would both strip your clothes off, cuddling skin to skin while Peeta would stroke your hair, pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

• All in all, Peeta is a gentle and caring lover, understanding of your needs. He'd do his best to meet them, even when it meant staying glued to your hip. He loved you, the history you two had, the stuff you'd been through, and he'd do anything to ensure your happiness and your safety. After all, you were who saved him, who kept him grounded as well, the love of his life... but, his thoughts are for another story.

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sunboki · 4 months

Text

⎯ CHRISTMAS BLUES a Hwang Hyunjin fiction

🎄 : Hwang Hyunjin x implied! fem. reader

TROPE. enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, reader is a writer, one bed au, forced proximity au, hyunjin is an artist(not mentioned a ton), coincidences

WORD COUNT. 7.3k words ☆ 40 minute read

WARNINGS. cursing, angst galore, mention of sex (non desc.), breakup, hurt feelings, making up, mentions of getting drunk

AUG'S NOTES. this is a stupidly lovestruck hallmark christmas mindset talking, whatever you read below is definitely not me… definitely. anyway, happy holidays to everyone that celebrates! this has been sitting in my drafts for months now, initially planned to be a smau, then a fic!! hope this fic exceeds your expectations, feel free to leave a reblog or comment of your thoughts!

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. You thought getting a call from Hyunjin was the last thing you needed during the holidays, but when he reminds you of your non-refundable tickets to Paris you had booked seven months prior to your earth-shattering breakup, you realize that his call was the least of your problems.

or alternatively :

Just a week over Christmas with your ex in Paris, what could go wrong?

Every circumstance has a question that goes along with it.

How did I get so lucky? Why did you leave?

As for yours, it’s fairly simple.

Where did we go wrong?

December 18th – Seoul, South Korea.

Holding onto what could’ve been is stupid, you agreed upon that mindset a long time ago. However, the past, Him being the past, lingered around you like the scent of citrus still clinging beneath your fingernails even after washing your hands. Everywhere. He was everywhere. And no matter how hard you tried to erase the memories of what was, they served their memory purpose and disfigured your mind all the same.

And so, you replaced it.

Replaced the hurt, the searing burn, with someone else. Who turned into someone else, and someone else after that till the only thing sufficing any weekly relationship was a no-strings attached notion.

Until you met Seungmin.

He was your vice, the person dragging you out of your self-made hole of false sanctuary and safety. He laid all his flaws on the table, showed himself to you. Seungmin was gentle and kind, he was patient— more patient than anyone else in this world— and loving. Oh so loving.

But behind your undying affection for your boyfriend, he saw something you didn’t. Perhaps in your eyes, perhaps in your soul, bared to him on an onslaught of occasions.

Longing.

He saw longing in your treasured hues, longing for someone that wasn’t him.

Because some scars take longer to fade away, but yours hadn’t even begun to heal. Masked with his many layers of band-aids only to never staunch the cut, the one Hwang Hyunjin left on you.

“Seungmin I’m so sorry—“

“You love him, I know,” He nods his head, a sad, soft smile holding place on his lips.

Tonight was the night he officially talked about it. The unforgivable thought continuing to incessantly plague his mind.

Although, he didn’t regard you sourly for it. That connection you had with Hyunjin was something no other person could return nor deliver, and he had to accept that if he really loved you.

If Seungmin really loved you, he wanted the best for you, even if that meant the best were when you weren’t with him.

You were shocked when he brought up the matter, asked if you really missed him, asked if you still loved him. Yes, you had of course discussed your previous relationship, but never to this extent, never so blatantly.

Though the absolute kindness in both his tone and the way he looked at you, seated at the dinner table, kept you from lying.

It’s not fair. Not fair for Seungmin, your boyfriend, to have to take responsibility for your tormented feelings. But here he is, assuring you nevertheless.

Because he’s known. He knew from the start you weren’t over Hyunjin. Knew that, despite so much ache and anguish he caused, your heart can’t help but beat at his pace, fruitlessly connected.

And he knew in the end things would fall apart just like this, and his spot as a placeholder would fall apart along with it.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.

“He hurt you, but you love Hwang Hyunjin, I know.” He whispers, fingers tightly twined beneath the table. There’s a sort of hiccuping sound bubbling up from your throat. You stave it down.

“I’m sorry.”

He smiles, smiles when you don’t deny it, reaching forward for your trembling hands to take in his own.

“I want you to be happy, Y/N. I’m not the one you’ll be happy with though.”

A soft squeeze before he rises and curves to where you sit, free-flowing tears threatening to cascade past glossy eyes.

Without hesitation you wrap your arms around him in a hug, chest wracking with unfiltered sobs. Guilty. Guilt is devouring your soul. You don’t deserve Seungmin, nor does he deserve to be hurt so cruelly by someone he loves. But here you are, ruining him.

He’d never admit it, but the pain in his eyes—the ones you’ve stared at countless times—will always remain evident. No amount of smiling or laughing can hide that.

Pulling back while your arms stayed hooked upon his shoulders, you savor the kiss he places on your lips, the ones he delicately pressed to each of your wrists.

Sad. It’s a sad kiss. A kiss that causes your entire body to wilt against him, crashing deeper and deeper into his warmth, his comfort. He’s not false, he’s real. A real, unadulterated love you’re undeserving of.

Guilty.

“If you’re happy,” He breathes, leaning in to land gentle pecks all over your face, forehead connecting with your own. “I’ll be okay.”

December 20th – Seoul, South Korea.

Your room is still exactly as it has been. Pillows faced the same way, sheets still tousled and hanging halfway off the bed. Hell, he hasn’t even touched the blinds — staying open throughout countless nights, your perfume lingering.

Like he was afraid his touch would break apart what he had left of you.

He hopes, swallowing down the remainder of wine in his glass, you’ll be able to look back and laugh at what used to be, find the matter childish and ridiculous.

What you used to be.

Lovers.

Not kids anymore, you taught him once before. You also taught him how deep a love could be. There’d always be a space for you here, just as you left it. Although, he doubts you’d come back. In fact, you’ve probably moved on with your life. Found someone else to fill the space he did.

But maybe, if he keeps the room as it was for long enough, your room; if Hyunjin keeps those tiny paper notes you wrote for him long enough, you would come back.

What a lie.

Wishful thinking takes you far then drops you into festering despair over and over, he’s learned this the hard way.

Starting with a text.

He blinked once, then twice, then three times—picking apart his brain in order to recollect anything, any details whatsoever that could decipher this random message on a Monday morning.

Paris.

Paris?

Paris.

It hits him, evidently.

Immediately clutching his head and simultaneously slapping an aghast hand over his mouth, a sensation recognizable as utmost horror obliterates his soul into pieces, quite literally rocking his world.

Months ago, he remembered.

You’d been stupid, you’d been drunk, and impulsively booked the tickets, laughing off the “no refunds” reminder as if nothing would’ve ever happened.

It did though. And now he’s dealing with the karma in return for that idiotic decision. Soon enough you both will.

Non refundable tickets to Paris, two days from now, together.

What were the chances?

Blindly tapping his password into his phone, he (just as blindly) jams his finger to the first caller he sees, who turns out to be Minho, seeming like both a blessing and a curse in unison.

Never before had Hyunjin so clearly lost his mind and control of his words, but there’s always a first time for everything, right?

“Minho, what the hell am I supposed to do? She hates me and the flight is booked two days from now. This is just.. Fuck!” Hyunjin pours, slamming his hands against the steering wheel, burying his head into the leather as if that would magically make his endless desperation disappear.

He didn’t usually curse, so when he did, whatever had happened was serious. He carried his words elegantly, proficiently.

He'd be the last picked candidate for elegance right about now.

“If I were Chan I would’ve said you should still try talking to her about it, but in my opinion that wouldn’t change a thing. So suck it up Hwang, it can’t be that bad.”

Ah. Remind me why I ever decided to call you hoping for advice.

‘Hwang’ was the name his friend had reserved for him, coming from a long line of tissues in the mouth and other ways Minho would pick fun at the blonde. But he was at least trying to help, somewhat.

How he got himself into this situation is honestly laughable, situation being your nasty breakup and a plane to Paris.

Great. Paris is great, right? Wrong.

Because this stupid, stupid trip to Paris isn’t one he’s going on alone to enjoy the sights and delicacies there, it’s one with you, the girl who ripped his heart in half two months ago. The trip you’d planned while you were still head-over-heels, not hating his guts.

Oh, and your tickets were nonrefundable. Couldn’t forget about that part.

“.. What am I gonna do?”

“Suck it up, duh.”

“And please enlighten me on how the hell I'm supposed to ‘suck it up’ in a plane seat right next to her for thirteen hours and spend every day glued to the hip, your honor.”

The mental picture of Minho’s fraud-innocent face through the line grated his nerves like nothing else. Brows lifted, mouth slightly open. He wanted to punch that imaginary face so badly right now.

"Then follow Chan’s tutorial on making it up to your now-ex. You asked me for my opinion, and you got it. Look, all I’m saying is this is a good chance to get some level ground between you two, even if you still fly back hating each other—"

“I don’t hate her,” Hyunjin quickly quips.

Honestly, truthfully, he doesn’t hate you, he can’t hate you and he doubts he ever will. You were the one responsible for years upon years of the best moments of his life, how could he hate you for that?

Although, by the way you looked at him that night, he doubts your response would be the same.

Minho sighs.

"Even better, you could fly back with her hating you slightly less."

For once the snarky man he was spilling his problems to had provided decent reason, it was terrifying.

From a spectators point of view, his utter fit had to be quite a sight. For the record, witnessing thee calm and collected Hwang Hyunjin go insane in his car wasn’t a sight you’d see on a regular day.

But today wasn’t a regular day. Instead, it was the day he found himself trapped in a loophole of love and war with his ex.

What were the chances?

There’s no book that could wholly describe Hyunjin.

Even as a writer yourself, not even Shakespeare could depict him to the full extent. He’s flawless but so flawed, kind and yet malicious in terms of his brilliantly unfair beauty.

Every day you run into Hwang Hyunjin. The first few times, you called it coincidence, told yourself his meeting happened to be at the same time, maybe he was headed to a neighboring coffee shop.

Well, before those few days turned into every day on your commute.

And when a breakup is as nasty as yours was, it’s not too refreshing constantly seeing your ex on the daily afterward.

Today, Hwang Hyunjin is wearing a tan trench coat that reaches down to his knees. He’s wearing the same tennis shoes as always (except his usual camera is absent from the picture), and his hair is pulled up, soft, sandy strands framing either side of his face. He stands on the other side of the crosswalk, occupied with his phone while you internally ridicule him.

Staring daggers into his frame, the frigidly cold beverage in hand doesn’t aid in warming up chilling temperatures burning your fingertips, signs of winter’s impending approach.

He looks up.

You avert your gaze to your shoes. You can feel his eyes on you; feel them traveling over your body, then to your face, boring into your skull. He’s waiting, watching.

And somehow, you know you’ll eventually have to make eye contact. Because on your normal route, your turn left on Harrison street, then right on Fords. He’s there. Unbelievably, wildly, he’s there.

It’s the one factor in your (almost) perfect life without him that makes things hell.

Back then, you were like clockwork. Not a minute going by without someone being awake. You taking a nap after spending two hours searching synonyms on Thesaurus, Hyunjin just waking up, heading out with his signature Canon camera loosely hung around his neck.

Two perfect oppositions leaving their cluttered love scattered all over a cheap apartment.

For Hyunjin, it was the mug you’d gotten him last christmas labeled in bold font: “ART WHORE”, while yours was an equally degrading “SHE WOULD RATHER FUCK THE MEN IN HER BOOKS” sticker print slapped on the back of your laptop.

Little did you know you’d be desperately scraping the sticker off seven months later, that you’d leave your chapter unfinished since breaking up and that he had likely thrown away that mug.

Or maybe not. Maybe he painted over it, scribbled it out and somehow made it look good. Hyunjin has a way of making anything catastrophic look pretty.

You, on the other hand, are an erupting volcano. One that cries its lava onto the earth and doesn’t leave a pretty photograph. One that froths and rumbles, and destroys things as it goes.

Perfect opposites, exactly.

Now for the real question, the monumental “where did we go wrong” part that served as an explanation.

Three little words.

I love you.

You lied.

Those are big words, big words for somebody. Big words for yourself, words you spoke to Hwang Hyunjin, looped in his apartment, making love on the couch.

Big words he didn’t return.

Big words that kept your heart stilled in your chest, left your lips blue, drowned as you collected your discarded clothes off the floor.

And you left.

You didn’t need the awkward silence, the “let me think about it”, the bullshit they spouted Kissing-Booth-style. You needed him, his reassurance when you were your most vulnerable. His three words that told you your three years together weren’t one sided, not wordlessly confessed through actions though too scared to say aloud – a feared incantation.

Words he never said. Because you did love Hwang Hyunjin, so much it consumed you into his favorite muse, him your inspiration. Then came the doubt. The recollection of your favorite, dearest moments. Was it all a lie?

Those hour-long seconds, tangled on his sofa, kept that incessant anxiety alive.

You thought you found the one when your drunk night didn’t turn into an orgasm you can’t remember, but rather being coaxed into a warm shower despite your complaining about your pants being too tight.

Somehow, you can still feel his tender kisses like a ghost of a presence, littering the skin of your shoulder instead of the sloppy alcohol ridden ones you’d known before, and for once you had woken up beside the person responsible — not to a note saying they had to leave early.

He was the one responsible for teaching you how to paint, propping you in his lap, hand guiding your own while tracing careful strokes on the canvas. It was hardly possible sitting on his stool together, though neither of you noticed (nor cared), too busy savoring the intimacy of the moment.

That was Hyunjin. He was the glass of water placed in front of you after one too many at happy hour. He was the relaxing bath when everything hurt, the shoulder to cry on.

But you were mistaken. He wasn’t the one. Seungmin was the one, the one you had left behind only to chase after a toxic remedy.

In fact, Hyunjin never was the one.

And it fucking hurt remembering that.

December 21st - 22nd – Seoul, South Korea.

The last news you’d anticipated slammed into you like a bus.

Cozied up at your desk, a number pops up on your screen, interrupting the one moment of silence you managed to enjoy. Most people didn’t call during your work hours, except Seungmin, who, for the record, called before work.

The number you’d memorized by heart was not normal either.

Him.

“Before you curse at me,” He begins, and your hand hesitantly hovers over the call button, jaw clenched beyond reason, silence shouting loud. No strength in your bones allowed you to reply. Was it fear, hatred? Both most likely.

Taking the time to continue, his silky tone lulls along the line.

“Do you remember the tickets?”

Hatred seemed the dominant factor.

“What are you talking about?” You rhetorically snap, obviously annoyed albeit confused.

Tickets? It’s been three months, why the hell are tickets the first thing he’s mentioning?

He sighs. “The tickets to Paris. You remember, don't you?”

It takes you a moment, then, aha.

How could you forget? The tip of the iceberg of what two naive, lovestruck idiots thought would be forever. Little did they know everything would slip past their fingertips.

”Well um, did you know they’re non-refundable?”

Huh.

“WHAT?!”

You’d just managed to convince yourself free of Hyunjin, but he simply dragged you further into his labyrinth.

Or so you thought.

You had grown since he broke you (with the help of your better-ex, Seungmin). You evolved better (or so you told yourself). So out of the plentiful lessons you’d learned during your reflection, the factor that stuck with you most was that nobody is there to pick up for you. No matter how much you think they will.

You swore yourself into the belief Hyunjin would mend you, but you lived blind to the truth that he was just as broken as you were, a dog chasing its tail.

And so, you dealt with it.

In ways.

Whether that was incessantly talking to yourself, fanatically checking the date, contacting Felix on the verge of tears for him to laugh and then attempt at consoling your doom, or googling the best ways to run away from your predicament, fate had it out for you.

A disgustingly impertinent, unfairly fair fate.

Packing wasn’t all too stressful, unless you count trying on an entire entourage of outfits descending from dinner to snow-attire, then focusing on simple.

And it really shouldn’t have been so awful getting into your car, nonetheless waking up to realize today was the dreaded day, but it was, and you seriously deserved an award for the amount of times you checked your clock.

Although, you at least expected to have a little bit of time before having to face him again. Talking and interacting, not just drilling holes into his head. Little bit of time as in, a few years at least.

You were wrong.

Not the first time that’s happened.

“Hi Hyunjin.”

Answering his awaiting call with unsteady pitch, your eyes immediately gravitate to the blond-haired man. Taller in stature, leaning against a nearby pillar by your gate, staring directly at you.

Never had it felt so terrifying.

“Hey.”

You hesitate, never breaking eye contact with the man you’re speaking to a few meters away.

“Are we…Are we doing this again?”

He’s solemn. He’s not the same. Different.

“I don’t know. You decide for me.”

Never for a second does your gaze stray to his lips that barely move as he utters the line. Not the same either.

Before, you’d always been mesmerized by his lips. Then he’d notice and tease you prior to delivering the long-awaited kiss, again and again till you were breathless and your head became dizzy.

But this wasn't before; this is now, filled with grudges and sourness.

“You know I can’t make big decisions.”

That isn’t him. Isn’t the Hyunjin who would always provide endless tips and support, opinions unable to be held back without duct tape.

“Because you don’t want to get hurt knowing we chose this?” He whispers, and you tug your bottom lip between your teeth hard enough to bleed.

“Because I want better for us.”

“Y/n,” He sadly laughs, and your name rolling off his tongue sends an ache clawing your chest. It’s humorless, bitter in his throat.

“There is no us, only you and me, remember? So who do you want better for?”

There’s no twinkle in his eyes or his charming smile, it’s dry and painful, like he’d been crying.

You don’t want to think about that.

“Tell me something, okay?” Holding your phone to your ear with an iron grip, you slowly inhale through your nose, sparing a fleeting glance to the floor.

“Anything.”

“If I cry, will you hug me?”

“Do you want that?”

Question after question. He reaches in further, ripping out pieces of your soul with each inquiry. Stupid, sure. But genuine, all the way from the shrouded depths of your mind did you ask.

Of course you want that, want what’s so bad for you. No strength can make you admit it.

He knows the answer.

You hang up the call, fiddling around with your suitcase prior to wheeling the blundering thing over and ensuring you find a comfy spot out of Hyunjin’s sight.

Only five minutes of talking and you already feel as if your body is splintering into little pieces he’ll arrange into the perfect puzzle, ideal and pleasing.

He won’t. Not anymore he won’t.

And in that stead you’ll remain shattered.

What a shame.

Now boarding Group Five. All passengers in Group Five are welcome to board.

The hailing announcement earns a muffled groan through your mask, begrudgingly rising to your feet while directing your attention solely upon the bridge and your tightly held boarding pass. Luckily, Incheon International Airport isn’t half as hectic as you anticipated, but you have a gnawing feeling Paris will have a lot more to say.

Truth be told, you thank every lesson on task focus you once deemed useless as you shuffle among Paris-goers to find your seat.

One that obviously had to be right by Hwang Hyunjin.

“How’s you and Seungmin?” He fixes the length of his headphones, sparing a quick look at you while speaking. You despise how easy he treats this, how easy he’s treating everything at the moment.

Unfortunately, booking this hell-on-earth back when either of you were in your demented fantasy-land meant sitting beside each other also, in assigned seats.

Cupid really needs to give up by now.

You grunt beside him, uttering a hushed, “We broke up.”

Tilting his head, Hyunjin presses his face closer, craning. Close enough that you hold your phone up as a barrier, shrinking away nearer to the window.

“…Who broke up with who?”

Asshole.

Sighing boisterously, you shove in your own earbuds, rolling your eyes. Hyunjin, cocking a brow, dejectedly slouched back. Although he doesn’t ask any more questions, and you successfully get through your first three hours in silence.

Well, prior to the flight attendant strolling by with her cart, mandatorily beckoning orders from each row.

Wheeling her cart over where your seats are, Hyunjin takes a ginger ale and the customary pretzels they hand out. So when she gets to you and you order a Sprite, the man to your right’s head snaps to you, giving you quite an incredulous cock of his brow.

“No ginger ale?”

You wrinkle your nose.

“I don’t like it,” Biting back, you interrupt him upon accepting the canned soft drink, expression bitter and unwavering.

“You always got it when you were with me” or “Wasn’t it your favorite” was what you expected to come out of his mouth, positively obliterating any ounce of peace of mind remaining inside your rattling skull. You weren’t about to sit another seven hours sulking about something your ex said.

The ex you were very much over.

Right.

Your new goal? Avoid genuine conversation for as long as possible, at least on this flight.

So, given the chance to be deep in thought, you came to a conclusion.

You were clockwork, just like before. Except now instead of just equaling the time of day, he was the hour hand and you were the minute hand, always chasing after one another only to briefly touch and start all over again in an endless cycle of time.

Although the rockier the air gets and the more your grip squeezes the armrest does your initial goal falter, finding his considerate gesture asking if you were alright practically impossible to keep from responding to.

Especially when a huge drop has his hand racing atop yours, both too nervous to truly let go.

Just the circumstances, you blame, as if this plane was the sole cause of your slamming heartbeat.

Bullshit.

Four days and this trip was going to be one for the books for a multitude of reasons, that’s for sure.

Let’s just hope you can land first.

December 23nd – Paris, France.

His assuring hold on your hand guiding you through the bustling crowds of visitors and locals storming Charles de Gaulle Airport gives you this disgusting nostalgia, festering in your gut the longer you focus on his dark head of hair in front of you, kind, magnificent almond eyes flickering back to catch sight of you time and time again — like you’d magically sift from his grasp.

It’s a miracle you managed to hit ground in one piece, nevertheless end up with the notorious artist-jerkface named Hyunjin navigating you through an supremely overpopulated airport.

Perhaps it’s the scent of wispy pine or faint cigarette smoke that tinges the atmosphere such a rosy hue, perhaps everyone’s anticipation for the holiday’s. Either way, it certainly doesn’t help fuel your “absolutely NO touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda”.

Well, you had no doubt you’d have to stick to your morals on this trip in the first place, and it’s not like the odds were supposed to work in your favor. Although, a little assistance would‘ve been nice.

Guess you’ll just have to make due.

Lovely.

“Thank you!” You shout, forcing your voice to sound chipper speaking to the Cab Driver (opposing the twenty-two hours of traveling you managed to survive through). Except now, you didn’t know what to do nor what to say standing outside the hotel entrance, especially not when Hwang Hyunjin was going to be biting your ass for the next few days.

Much to your luck though, it seemed he was just as clueless as you, both prioritizing just checking into your room first and foremost.

Thankfully, the sights are a wondrous source of distraction, and you devise a plan to go walking more often than not (and not just to avoid Hyunjin). Each building appears as if it’d been expertly carved from stone, historically aged beige, awnings titled a bottomless array of Grand Seiko and Jaeger-LeCoultre.

To add, huge paneled windows are placed in each room, allowing a breathtaking view of the city as evening dawns. Whether it’s a quaint bakery hitched right below a bookstore or the bell tower seated comfortably in the middle of a square—you could never get bored.

Seems your interest tore you away from an unwelcomed reality until Hyunjin cleared his throat, thick eyebrows raised questionably.

“..We could go ice-skating?” He offers, index pointing to the huge rink a few blocks to the left.

You don’t have to speak for him to know your response, unzipping your suitcase to gather a new change of clothes without a word.

“Look, I know you want nothing to do with me, but I doubt either of us will ever have enough money to come to Paris again, so just, do it for the experience, not for me.”

That’s it.

“For you? You think I’m doing this for you? Are you really that conceited to think I’m still catering to you, Hyunjin? I’ve changed whether you like it or not, and I’m not the girl that’s willing anymore,” You toss your clothing to the side, giving him a downright venomous stare. Loathing. “I’m not yours anymore.”

“In fact,” Spitting poison, you stab your index to his chest, causing him to back up the more you advance forward. “You don’t know shit about me.”

He appears torn. His nose scrunches, and his lips form a squabbled line upon his face, evidently troubled.

Somehow, those actions that normally earned your sympathy only reared your deftly oiled gears more, angrily roaring without fail.

“Because if you did, we wouldn’t be like this.”

Gesturing around, you retreat back a few steps, arms slapping your sides irritably. Meanwhile, the tall man remains silent, attention magnetically directed down at his shoes. And for a swift moment, mere seconds, you feel sorry — apologetic even.

It makes you sick to your stomach.

You exhale. “I’ll go, and not for you. Understood?”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply, biting his cheek as he watches you disappear into another room.

You thank the refreshing scent of peppermint for its momentary relief upon entering the bathroom, practically drenching your face in ice cold water over and over as if it’d clear your head.

For you; you’re doing this for you, nobody else, you remind yourself, prepping a washcloth and your toiletries whilst praying the warm shower water eases your blaring jet-lag.

Yet, you didn’t expect a visitor to suddenly pop in while you were mid-shampoo, and it seemed he didn’t expect it either.

You swore the prolonged eye-contact went on for centuries, absolute terror embracing every aspect of your face through the clear shower door.

“Fuck! Get out!”

Scurrying like a character off a cartoon, Hyunjin manages – through spilling apologies – to blindly ram himself into the door, hands gripping his skull.

Suddenly, he pauses, hesitating.

“Wait but I’ve seen you naked befo–”

“GET OUT!” You scream.

“Okay! Okay.” He hurriedly slips out, leaving you to rethink every decision made with his name involved. A recurring thought at this point.

And with that, you quickly accept that your jet lag isn’t even close to gone and likely won’t be as long as the artist sharing your hotel room is within a six-foot radius.

Oh, and you don’t know shit about ice-skating.

Of course, Hyunjin is a natural on ice. He glides like a snow spirit, freer than ever. Meanwhile, your nails are embedded into your vice of a railing, knees shakily attempting at balancing with little success.

He’s the princess, and you’re the frog. It’s decided. Walking while you crawled, running while you walked. A step ahead that was at some point motivating, now plain humiliating.

The ice rink is jam-packed, citizens and tourists alike savoring the crisp winter, the faded twinkling of lights glittering in the distance.

“C’mon, just one?”

You, clawing the icy edge, confusedly avert your focus to where the voice came from.

It’s Hyunjin, gesturing to his camera while you piece together his request before childishly whining your despair. He lifts his toboggan upward, a few endearing tufts of golden peering out to hang over crescent moon eyes, evidently smiling.

Leave it to this man to test your sanity. How could anybody say no when he looked that cute.

“Fine, one.”

Not like I could run off anyway, you mentally consider, finding the fact your legs are quite literally flailing as a good enough sign to give in.

“Yes!” He chirped happily, hurriedly fiddling with his camera.

Watching him with that kind of expression, you witness your Hyunjin again, fumbling around, so excited about the smallest of things.

It hurts.

“I..” He trails off, voice barely audible whilst winking to see through the lense. “Don’t want to miss a moment of you.”

“What was that?”

The camera flashes, and you wonder if you heard him correctly.

“Oh nothing.” His lips curl into a sheepish grin, easing toward you and unexpectedly prying your hand into his own, involuntarily pulling you along.

Panickedly, you clutch onto any article of clothing available (another goodbye to your no-touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda) similar to the handrails, squeezing your eyes shut while painfully awaiting a harsh slam against rock-hard ice.

A harsh slam that never happens.

You cautiously open an eye.

“One, two, one, two.” He counts steadily, soaring across the ice, unable to contain the huge beam the longer he watches you. Captivating.

You fight the urge to smile, the sensation of wind whipping your hair and his warm, reminiscent touch setting your nerves into a dopamine frenzy, making the routinely frown much harder than need be.

Nevertheless, perhaps staying in Hyunjin’s grasp would’ve been the safer option. Because with confidence comes failure (at least in your book of life), and your knees would’ve definitely appreciated not getting ruined.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin murmurs, sympathetically regarding your black and blue frame, looking worse for wear, skates in hand.

“Amputation has never sounded more tempting,” Grumbling, you hobble to return your skates, the man tailing behind you choking back his giggle, kindly waiting in case you stumble.

From the way things are going, the probability is high. Except, Hyunjin walks on eggshells, worried you might rip his head off in the case he asked the question sitting tentatively on the tip of his tongue.

Keeping himself contained had never been as unbearable as when with you, constantly having to refrain from wrapping your precious self into his arms, witness those warm, beautiful hues blinking at him like globes.

Five minutes into the walk back and your near-face-plant-turned-catastrophe was his last straw.

“Can I at least carry you?”

Your head snapping back was almost comical, ogling at Hyunjin as if he told you he’d been neutered or something.

Insane. He’s officially gone insane.

So have you, apparently. Because after getting all too familiar with the icy side walk for a fifth time, you give in, stifling your thoughts from erupting out of your skull—feeling like your entire earth was slowing down on its axis when he easily swept you off your feet.

Cute, hell, romantic too, until you arrive back at the hotel and the curious looks sent your way have your cheeks burning.

“This is so embarrassing.” You whine, burying your face in your hands. Of course, Hyunjin just laughs.

You missed his laugh.

And he cares for you that night, transporting you from room to room in his arms despite your complaints you could do so yourself (although you secretly preferred it, and no, not because it was Hyunjin, only because of how bruised your legs were).

Plus, the mental exhaustion was practically debilitating, sleep beckoning you into its cozy embrace as the clock ticked on the wall. The man before you knelt in front of where you sat on the side of the bed, gently applying antiseptic to your cuts while you blanked in and out of consciousness.

Any common sense had completely abandoned you. Certainly, since you hadn’t noticed only one bed sat dead center in the room. Nor had you noticed through your half-asleep eyes how sweetly he maneuvered you around, pulling the comforter snug over your body.

His hand strays, wistfully smoothing some hair from off your eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, gathering spare pillows and blankets.

He’ll sleep on the floor.

December 24th – Paris, France.

Apparently, there was much more to this Paris dilemma than just the “going to Paris” part (excluding, y’know, the havoc that’s occurred over the past three days).

This fantastic surprise came in the form of a booked Louvre Museum date, now a bit more like a punishment with your current state of soreness merely rising up from bed. And, in turn, seeing Hyunjin sawing logs on the floor below, an action you were inaudibly grateful for.

You two are a different kind of romantic if that’s what you want to call it, especially when Hyunjin practically barricades the bathroom door, nonsensically shouting that he won’t make the same mistake of walking in ever again.

Sweet gesture, but it gets a tad bit irritating when you have to basically charge the door in order to move the chair situated behind it, making you doubt if it was to keep Hyunjin himself out or keeping you in instead.

Yeah. Different kind of romantic. Exes kind of romantic.

Once 5pm rolls around, you’re already dressed and ready to leave, trying your darndest to pretend you’re doing something on your phone to evade conversation. A middle school move, though your ego is on the brink of becoming extinct anyway.

Seems the final act is when Hyunjin steps out of the bathroom, wearing that tan trench coat he always did.

He notices you analyzing, stifling a very tempting smirk.

“I thought you’d like this jacket. Y’know, since you stared at it all the time.”

With a sentence you watched your endangered ego obliterate in real time, embarrassment swallowing you whole. The cycle is neverending.

Thankfully, at least one factor in your unsolvable equation proves itself useful, the factor being your already purchased tickets, granting an earlier entrance into what felt to be a new world.

A new world you recognized as Hyunjin’s world. Vast, expansive. A place you can get lost in and be okay with. Stories hidden behind gold-rimmed frames, so much to tell if only you’d listen.

He lingers by the Psyche and Cupid sculpture longer than usual. Briefly, he told you about them many moons ago. Their love awakening from something much more tragic, apocalyptical.

What a coincidence.

You spend what feels to be days in there, daylight from the lengthy windows overhead falling dark by the time you’re finished. The temperature dropped exponentially while you explored, ignorant to the frigid conditions till realizing you still had your trek back.

Curse the taxi service for not running twenty-four hours.

“You grew your hair out.” You comment, but it’s not really a comment, more like an observation you already knew and felt the need to point out for some odd reason. The awkward silence is suffocating enough.

Granted, you’d known his hair had grown. You saw him every day coming to and fro from work, so any adjustments he made you saw, some of which you remember loving oh so much.

This adjustment was his hair.

Hyunjin’s lips quirk ever so slightly, fingers straying up to tousle a strand.

“You used to love it when I grew it out.”

He continues to walk ahead, ignoring how you had stalled behind, numb grip desperately clutching your puffer jacket as if it’d magically allow you inhalations.

“You would tie it up for me, and stick my paintbrushes in the bun.”

This time, he spins around, seemingly unaffected by your (both literally and figuratively) frozen finger that simply blinks at him — robotic-like.

Like Hyunjin is a stranger. Like your Hyunjin, the old one you were mad for, is now a stranger.

“And I,” He sniffs in, his exhale causing a cloud of air to comprise in its stead. “Really wanted to marry you.”

There’s your breaking point.

He’s pulled you thread by thread closer to an unthinkable free fall, a freezing free fall. Unfurling your strings of yarn to no point of repair. So as you teeter on the edge, your defense mechanisms kick in. And before you can logically consider your options, you smack him.

Right. Across. The face.

He’s stunned, you don’t blame him for that, but there’s also a crinkle in his brows, a look of utmost hurt beginning to stain any somber expression left.

“You have no right to say that when you’re the one that caused all of this.” Your volume increases, unaffected by the glances from passerby.

You have no doubt the two of you are quite a scene, though common sense had long abandoned you, and no thought but fiery rage curls around you, tendrils alight.

“Why the hell did you want to marry me if you can’t even love me? Quit hurting and confusing me Hyunjin, I can’t keep doing this.” Practically pleading, he pulls his palm from where it babied his cheek, instead retreating to your wrists, keeping you in front of him.

“Listen.”

“No!” You screech, trying your hardest to escape.

“Listen.”

You pause, gingerly allowing him to adjust the scarf over your pink nose and ensure your gloves trap warmth for your fingers.

He bites his lip, gaze dancing across your features.

“I love you.”

You shakily exhale, wishing everything would just stop. Time would simply diminish into nothing but stillness, easiness.

Your anguish and anger was easy, and staying mad was a whole lot easier than this—confronting the pains of meeting him again, nonetheless this trip.

He’s finding the pieces to your puzzle.

You want to hide.

Worst of all? Especially hearing him say the words that ended you two months prior.

Cruel.

“I loved you,” His voice wavers. “More than anything, Y/n. And I still do. But when you said that, I got scared.”

He shakily inhales, the grip on you lessening a bit.

“Because when I say I love you back, that means I have someone to lose.”

It’s hypocritical, you know.

Hell, you know what it’s like to be a hypocrite more than anything right now. From hearing the godforsaken news to sitting in an airplane together after wholeheartedly promising yourself you’d never let him have you once more.

Yet here you were, dragging him by his collar into a kiss.

He kisses you back, like an idiot, childishly grasping his clothing-cladden frame against your face and savoring the small bit of heat huddled between where your lips meet.

His trench-coat, you remember, despite so many adjustments, is the same as usual, and it’s almost comforting to find he smells the same as well—floral, with hints of jasmine (mainly thanks to his favorite perfume). You remember that too.

Guess some things never change.

Perhaps he kept that mug after all, drank from it every day like he used to.

And perhaps, right now, he’s wishing back all the time you’ve spent apart, just like you are. Wishing you would’ve just talked like mature, capable adults. Figured things out.

Newsflash, you’re not mature adults. You’re two broken lovebirds fighting to find their song after being caged together, searching high and low for the perfect pitch when all you needed was a single note, a single start.

Positioning you where an arm wraps around your back, the other holding your cheek, he dips you as if in a ballroom dance, not kissing beneath a street light.

Everything is pretty in Hyunjin’s presence.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” You whisper, nostrils burning the longer you’re surrounded by snow, falling in hefty sheets at this rate.

He hums into your lips, maneuvering his head to kiss away the chilled tears beginning to froth upon your waterline. And in those moments, you feel so fragile, so weak in his touch.

Almost instinctively, his grip tightens oh so slightly.

“I really don’t want to lose you.”

And he laughs, a muffled laugh that nonetheless causes his shoulders to shake before delving further into your kiss, melting away every bit of anguish you felt, all the hurt and ache. Dissolved into nothingness by his lips.

Figures briefly illuminated by the light of the street lamp, you remain ignorant to the encroaching nightfall, the way the stars seamlessly blend with white snowflakes. Something out of a fairytale.

You’re certain you could’ve stood there forever, all numb and freezing cold.

But in love. So very in love.

For him you would’ve stood there. And the you still in denial without understanding this entire story would’ve died before admitting that.

This time, you’re okay with letting him finish the puzzle, create a song as lovebirds.

“You won’t, I promise,” He traces your cheek with his thumb. “Now let’s get someplace warm, shall we?”

Landing an affectionate peck to your burning red nose, he takes your hand, guiding you through climbing snow toward your hotel, sign reading “Hôtel de Vendôme” glittering in the distance.

In your opinion, however, it was too fleeting. A kiss you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for until it actually happened, till you pathetically craved it again and again.

Although, that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy gaining feeling back in your fingers and toes, treasuring the flicker of the fire crackling beneath a brick mantel. A few guests litter the lobby, dishing paper cups of hot chocolate left and right, taking the opportunity the mistletoe hanging above a long forgotten stairwell provides.

Christmas Eve and you’re beside the ex you swore you’d never spend it with, spend any time with generally. So surreal you simply cannot stop thinking about it, enough that you become too distracted to notice the mischievous glint in Hyunjin’s vision.

Well, before he points upward and you notice the dangling mistletoe.

And he kisses you again just like you wanted. Deeper, slower, like separating would cause you to break apart, carving your kiss into his memory for a second time.

Standing there, too lost in him to ever consider anything better than this, you begin to think maybe you’ll be able to finish that stagnant book of yours. Maybe it’ll be about two lovers turned two exes, whose trip to Paris might just have been the cherry on top to hurt feelings and broken love. Because, at the end of their tribulations, Cupid falls in love with Psyche.

And you begin to think—as the clock’s ringing announces midnight has arrived—maybe this Christmas will pass by on a good note.

No, you’re certain of it.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

FIC TAGLIST. @slut4colinbridgerton @armystay89 @shujohajohaminnie @minhosbitterriver @callmedarlingsstuff

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lovelytsunoda · 4 months

Text

i can't get no satisfaction // mick schumacher

summary: camping out in the library after hours, and too stressed to retain information, the student librarian has an idea about how take all of that stress away. and it doesn’t involve reference books.

pairing: college librarian!mick x student reader

warnings: sex in a library, semi-public sex, this is so fucking filthy, mick is a sweetheart but he has a dirty fucking mouth. mentions of masturbation and sex toys. why does this man bring out the feral in me? the terms ‘librarian’ and ‘sir’ used in a sexual context (but in a playful way…for the most part)

authors note: now tell me why I can add a song here but tumblr won’t let me add ‘shallow’ as a song link to my angsty top gun fic and I had to publish it without?

there was a reason she always picked that table. a reason she’d started coming to the library in tight tops and cutoff shorts.

it gave her the prime viewing across the old library, beyond the green tiffany lamps, at the perfectly coiffed head of of blonde hair that rested behind the check in desk.

mick fucking schumacher. he was the reason most girls came to the library, if she was to be honest.

however, there was no time for that today, astronomy textbooks strewn across her table as she poured over star charts. she didn’t realize how late it had gotten, her test review notes only half filled out and an exam creeping up on her.

her ballpoint pen trailed across the computer paper as she recorded the names of the main theories behind how the moon formed, mumbling to herself in an attempt to remember the facts better. she had one Bluetooth earbud in, playing jazz music softly to prevent her mind from wandering.

it was all hands on deck if she wanted a chance in hell of passing her elective course.

two hands clapped down on her shoulders. she started, yelping as her pen trailed a thick black line across her page before clattering to the floor. heart racing, she yanked her headphone out, head whirling to see who had interrupted her.

“oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.”

mick. he stood behind her, clad in tight black slacks and and untucked dress shirt, the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to just before his elbows.

and, oh god, were her nipples perking up underneath her halter top?

“no, no, I should have paid more attention.” her voice was shaking, cracking slightly. “did you need something?”

“we closed like, fifteen minutes ago.” mick said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but I’m not getting paid overtime and I kind of wanted to go home.”

she sighed, massaging her forehead wrinkles with her fingertips. “yeah, okay. sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”

her stomach sank to the floor. she felt guilty for keeping him, and a sense of crushing dread when she realized how little information she really retained.

and under the student librarians gaze, his stunning ocean eyes boring holes into her skull?

she’d be damned to admit it out loud, but she felt horny as hell. she was so stressed with exams, and so wired from trying to study that masturbation was the only way she could get herself to go to sleep: tire out the body, and the mind will follow.

but her fingers didn’t cut it any more, nor did the tiny vibrator her roommate made her buy on a whiteclaw-fuelled trip to the local spencer’s.

“okay, just give me a second and I can help you put all of these away. I feel bad for keeping you now.”

mick helped her gather her things and tidy the table, offering her a metal shelving cart to load full of all the textbooks she didn’t need. they moved in an awkward silence as the blond reshelved the books and she pushed the cart.

“so, astronomy?” mick clicked his tongue, shelving a book on star charts.

“yeah, it’s a shitty fucking elective, that’s what it is. it’s causing me more stress than my actual subject major.” she snorted, sliding a few other books into the shelf. “I’m pre-law, but I’m not even sure if law school is what I want any more. right now, I just want to shut down, if I’m being honest.”

she stepped back from the shelf, moving to go around the cart when mick spoke up.

“so is that why you barely looked in my direction today?”

she stopped cold, her foot thudding against the side of the heavy metal cart. she bit back a curse, stumbling as mick caught her, pressing her body up against the shelving cart.

“I know you have a crush on me. I think it’s cute. you’re cute.” his voice was husky, and there was barely any space between them. her heart was beating faster, heat rising in her cheeks. “there’s a reason I always work at that desk too. seeing you makes my day.”

he was so close to her that she could have kissed him if he wanted to. all she would have had to do was press up on her toes to match his height, and gently touch her lips to his.

“don’t hide from me, pretty girl.” mick whispered. “I know how pent up you are, I can see it in the way your body responded as I ran my hands over your back. I want to help you. let me help.”

she swallowed, thoughts racing as she gripped his arms, looking up into his cobalt eyes.

she needed this.

needed him.

“yes.”

when mick kissed her, it felt like all the air was leaving her lungs. he was intoxicating, the heady scent of his cologne overwhelming her senses. she moaned into the kiss, aching and longing for human contact.

“my sweet girl.” he mumbled, trialing kisses up her jaw and over behind her ear, hands coming up to knead her sensitive breasts as she leaned back against the shelving cart. “when was the last time someone treated you right?”

“s-six months.” she stuttered, panting heavily.

it was pathetic, mick had barely even done anything and she was seconds away from whining for him.

he clicked his tongue, gripping her waist and pushing her back further against the cart. a few reference books fell to the floor, but neither student noticed. his breath was warm against her ear, the tip of his nose brushing her cartilage and making her shiver.

“that’s just won’t do. whenever you came in here, I bet you were thinking about sitting under my desk and using your cute little mouth the keep my cock warm.”

noticing how her body tensed up, the boy changed his tune. “or maybe you’re not into that. maybe you just wanted me to whisk you away to the rare book room and press you up against the bookshelf, have my way with you. our dirty little secret”

ah, yes. that was the reaction he was looking for, her thighs clenching at the thought as he slotted his knee on between her legs.

“that’s my girl.” mick cooed as she grinded against his thigh. “you just need my cock to fill you up, don’t you? those fingers of yours just aren’t the same, are they?”

she opened her mouth to respond, forehead resting against his, when she leaned back too far, the cart tumbling out from behind her.

mick caught her by the waist, smoothly spinning around and returning her to her feet, ignoring the toppled cart. nose to nose, the absurdity of the situation dawned on her.

and she laughed.

and he laughed with her.

that was what she needed from a man. someone who could laugh with her, even during their most intimate of moments, someone who let all the best parts of his non-bedroom personality shine through while also knowing exactly what she needed him to say to get her off.

a gentleman.

and that’s what mick schumacher was.

he carried her bridal style back to the long mahogany table, placing her down gently and sweetly before giving her a sweet kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips.

“so, pretty girl, the ball is in your court now.” mick began, taking her warm hands in his cold ones. “whatever you need me to do, I’ll do.”

“I mean, I’ve heard the rare book room is super sexy. the smell of old books is like an aphrodisiac for me.” she said in a sing-song voice, thinking about his teasing from earlier. “then again, so are the vaulted ceilings in here.”

“I bet I could make you come so hard for me that you can see those stars on the ceiling fresco with your eyes closed.”

“wanna bet, pretty boy?” she was confident in her decision, but there was still nervousness behind her eyes.

she’d felt the way his dick pressed up against the seams of the zipper on his slacks. taking it was going to hurt.

he kissed her nose softly, fingers reassuringly rubbing circles on her skin. “I’ve got you, princess. you just need to relax and let me fuck all of that stress out of your pretty little head.”

she kissed him again, one hand on either side of his neck as she tried to press her body up against his, body flushed with need.

he gently turned her around, guiding her body so that she was bent over the table, the wood cool against her body.

mick playfully smacked her ass over her denim shorts.“such a pretty girl for your librarian, aren’t you?”

instead of the expected response, mick was delighted to get a laugh out of her. her giggles made him high, heat rising on his skin.

“was that supposed to be sexy?” she giggled, one hand reaching behind her to cradle his, thumb passing over his knuckles.

“maybe.” mick chirped. “baby, you’ve gotta let me have my other hand so I can get your shorts off.” she let go of his hand, allowing his smooth fingers to undo the button and gently draw the denim down her legs. “and for the record, I think that librarian is a damn sexy title.”

“but it’s not really a title.” she laughed, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her body, massaging the flesh of her ass before tugging her cotton panties to the side.

he smacked her ass again, cock perking up at the tiny moan she let out. “it can be whatever I damn well want it to be, princess.” his voice was playful, and it made her wet to no end.

she needed this adorable idiot to fuck her.

now.

there was little warning as he slipped two fingers into her, the cold of the rings on his fingers making her squeal as he started to flex his digits.

his fingers were so fucking long. they felt so much better than her own fingers did, that was for sure.

“that’s my pretty girl, taking my fingers like a goddamn champion. you’re fucking dripping, princess.” mick cooed, moaning at the sight of her arousal running down his wrist, the sound his fingers made as he scissored them inside of her. “atta girl, so good for your librarian, aren’t you?”

“yes.” she panted, bucking her hips against his fingers with a cry, reaching back to grab his free hand with the hand that wasn’t holding her steady on the desk. “oh, fuck, sir.”

god, she needed this. and for a nerdy guy, he sure fucking knew how to use his fingers.

she felt his hand come down on her ass again. “what did you call me?” his voice was light, with the hint of a smile behind it. “I want you to say it again, princess.”

“mhm, yes sir, please, I need more.” she exaggerated the moan, a playful smile on her face as she played right into micks hands.

she liked this banter they had going, this carefree way of looking at something most people took so seriously. no, this was an experience that felt uniquely her whereas other guys she had been with just did what they always did, not caring about what she needed to get off.

but with mick, yes, that dominant demeanour was still there, but in a gentle ‘let me take care of you’ way.

and that was sexy as fuck.

she whined as mick withdrew his fingers, tapping her side with two of his fingers. “turn around, pretty girl. I don’t like not being able to see your stunning face.”

while her thighs tingled, her chest bloomed with affection and love at the thought that mick thought she was pretty.

and it was true. the library was dim, the warm lighting from the tiffany lamps framing the flyaways from her hair and the pink in her cheeks. the cupids bow of her lips, and that gorgeous fucking smile.

he was so down bad for her, it made his cock ache.

she perched on the edge of the desk, wincing and attempting to hide her embarassment at the wet patch she was leaving on the old table, the unshaven landscape of her thighs (and between her legs).

goosebumps rose on her arms as she watched mick lick her juices off her fingers, moaning at the taste like it was his favourite thing in the world. sensing the goosebumps, he ran his hands up her arms to warm her up.

“you decide how far we go tonight, love. how many orgasms do you want?”

oh fuck.

mick laughed sweetly, seeing the overwhelmed look on her face. he kissed her forehead tenderly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “how about we start with one and see you feel from there.”

“yeah. I’d like that.” she answered shyly, feeling the cold creep in.

the old library was drafty, yet kept to a very specific temperature. she expected to be overheating from how hot this encounter was, but alas, the air conditioning system just had to go and ruin it

“here.” mick said softly, undoing his shirt to expose the silver chain that rested below his sternum, a pendant with an orthodox saint carved into it.

he undid the shirt slowly, allowing her ample time to rake her prying eyes over every perfectly sculpted part of his body, right down to the tent in his pants.

sliding the shirt fully off, he used both hands to drape the soft fabric over her body. she swooned at the motion, letting him flip the collar up against her neck.

“don’t want you catching a cold now, do we, sweet girl?” he said sheepishly, his face flushed pink and a sheen of sweat on his abs as he cupped her face, leaning in to kiss her softly.

“mick.” she whined. “I need you now. I’m aching for my librarian to make me feel good.”

“I’ve got you, princess. I’ve got you.” he hummed, undoing the button on his slacks. he pushed down his boxers, erect cock springing to life.

“holy fuck.” she hummed.

his dick was impressive. all seven thick inches of it, resting against her thigh when she opened her legs and pulled him closer. she wasn’t even sure if it was possible for a dick to be pretty, but if it was, micks cock was the very definition of the word.

“so wet for me. I’ll slide right on home.” mick said, gripping his cock in one hand and running it all along her slicked up opening. now she knew her goosebumps weren’t from the cold, but from the anticipation of what was to come next.

“please, I need your cock.” she whined.

“whatever my girl wants, she gets. you just relax and let your librarian fuck all those little worries away.”

he slid in slowly, letting her adjust to take him inch by inch. the stretch burned slightly, and she found herself opening her legs wider with every inch. she had a white-knuckled grip on the table, her breaths coming out in a mixture of strangled moans and pants.

when he finally slid fully in, his heavy balls resting against her ass, she opened her eyes and changed a look down at where they connected, a moan leaving her mouth.

“that’s just what you needed, isn’t it love? a fat cock to fill you up and make you feel good.”

it was a question he didn’t expect an answer from as he started to thrust in and out of her, hands gripping her thighs to pull her in.

“oh, god!” she whined throwing her head back, breasts bouncing under her top as mick slammed into her. “feels so good, mick.”

“that’s my girl.” his voice was low and husky, but also soothing. his hands on her body was a grounding presence.

her fingernails scraped down his chest, leaving pink marks in their wake as she moaned, babbling incoherently about how good mick was making her feel.

it was heavenly. he overwhelmed every one of her senses. it was an out of body experience, if she was being honest. something out of her wildest dreams.

mick kissed her again, groaning into her mouth as he pistoned his cock in and out of her. she was practically dripping everywhere, but had no time or energy to worry about the mess she was making.

all she could think about was how good she felt with mick inside of her.

“just breathe, darling. you’re doing so fucking good for me.”

he shifted her position on the desk, maneuvering one of her legs over his shoulder. she yelped in pleasure, nails sinking into his shoulders as she screamed a curse.

“fuck, that feels so good!”

the new angle was dizzying, his length brushing up against her spongy walls with every thrust. her eyes rolled back and her vision went blurry from pleasure as she meweled under his touch.

“that’s it, pretty girl. come for me. come for your librarian.”

“oh, fuck, mick, I-“ her words tapered off into a hearty moan, micks shirt lying in a puddle behind her as she wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her head in his chest as she came with a cry of his name, tears leaking from her eyes. “mick.”

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” mick cooed, kissing her forehead as he slowed his thrusts, gently working her through her orgasm. “there we go, you’re safe here. just breathe with me, can you do that, princess?”

she nodded, out of breath as mick gently eased her achy leg off his shoulder and back down to the table. he slid out of her, and the empty feeling made her whine. he gently shushed her, covering her face in kisses.

“mick, you never finished.” she pouted

“don’t worry about it, princess. this was about you. all that mattered to me was that you got your earth shattering orgasm.”

she rolled her eyes, reaching for his still-hard cock. “let me do something nice for you, dumbass.”

and who was mick to complain when she was doing such a good fucking job stroking his cock? her hands were smooth and soft, and the angelic way that she looked up at him, that sweet smile on her swollen lips while her hands worked him to the edge?

within minutes he was bellowing, spurting thick measures of come over her hands and down her arm, his entire body shaking.

“Jesus Christ.” he muttered. “you’re good at that.”

“when you hate giving blowjobs, you learn how to give a damn good handjob.” she smiled softly, unsure what to do with her sticky hands.

mick scooped her up gently, carrying her away from the desk and down the long hall to the staff bathroom. “come on, love. let’s get you cleaned up.”

after they were somewhat presentable (because, after all, there’s little you can do about the flushed skin and sex hair when you’re still in a public library), they gathered the last of their belongings and started to shut the library down for the day.

“what about the shelving cart?” she asked shyly, gesturing to the cart they had knocked over.

mick laughed. “I don’t work tomorrow, so it’s someone else’s problem.”

she watched with a soft smile as mick turned all the lights in the old building off, before he linked his arm with hers and they began the walk out of the parking lot.

“I hate to sound presumptuous,” mick began “but you’ve been here all day and I haven’t seen you leave to get food or anything. you must be starving. there’s an all night diner about two blocks from here, and I’d like to treat you to dinner.”

she smiled, kissing his cheek. “I’d love that, mick. thank you.”

and they both knew that this was going to be the start of something wonderful.

as soon as exams were over, of course.

the rest of the student body’s female population was not going to be happy when they showed up at the library and found that y/n y/l/n had finally captured their librarian’s heart.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @twinkodium @thatsdemko @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck

#mick schumacher x reader #formula one imagine #f1 smut #formula 1 smut #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #mick Schumacher smut #f1 imagine

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aww-canon-no · 11 months

Text

Steddie (Deaf Steve) Pt 2

You asked, so I’m here to give you more. This time from Eddie’s POV.

First kiss, sequel to Shoot Your Shot.

***

Soon Enough

Rated: T

Steve/Eddie

Modern AU, first kisses, Deaf Steve, ASL

(Content warnings: mentions of childhood neglect/abuse)

Eddie has never, ever once believed in conformity. And he’s not about to start now.

(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up is translated in notes at bottom of this fic)

***

Eddie Munson’s life has always been…difficult, to say the least. Born under a bad sign, Wayne liked to call it, but in a kind of affectionate way. The way where he’s holding small Eddie who can’t stop crying and wondering why all the other kids in his class have really nice parents who buy them things and, you know, feed them.

Wayne stepped in when he could. He never failed to show up with food and threats against his brother when he heard Eddie’s tiny, broken voice on the other end of the phone because his dad was too drunk or too high to feed him. Eventually they struck a deal. Eddie’s parents disappeared after signing some scary looking paperwork, and Eddie got to pack all his things and move to Wayne’s trailer which was small compared to where his classmates all lived, but nice.

So nice.

Like washing machine and running water nice.

He won’t have to be the smelly kid in class anymore.

He just didn’t realize how reputations clung in small towns.

So suffice it to say that Eddie abhors difficult things—including difficult people. It’s why, when his little lambs started going on and on and fucking ON about their cool, badass older friend Steve who used to date Nancy, Eddie was determined to never meet him.

It wasn’t just the jealousy.

It was that Steve communicated on a whole other level. Literally. He was Deaf. He went to the Deaf school that wasn’t anywhere near Hawkins and he knew no one, but somehow Steve and his perfect fucking hair was still popular amongst people who weren’t freaked out by the whole, he can’t hear shit, thing.

Yeah, it definitely wasn’t jealousy.

It was the fact that Steve was complicated and he used a whole separate language and Eddie just…had no plans to involve himself in that.

Never mind the kids were over the goddamn moon about being able to know ASL. They communicated with it during campaigns whenever they didn’t want Eddie to know their plans, and—although Eddie actually did look up stuff online about Deaf people (all that stuff about capital D and lowercase d and the community and culture was all very overwhelming) he was pretty sure his little lambs were technically not allowed to make up sign names for all the creatures in their guides.

But they did it anyway and who was Eddie to stop them.

He ended up picking up a few things by osmosis, whether he liked it or not.

But he was determined, damn it. He existed over here, Steve existed over there, and they all lived happily ever after.

Until the afternoon he walked into Scoops Ahoy.

***

Eddie had actually gone in to bother Robin. They were sort of outcast friends. Two freaky little gays at Hawkins High, though she was younger than him and had absolutely no interest in DnD, but they had a shared trauma bond of bullies and bullshit.

He came to a stop when he saw the absurdly good looking guy at the counter who was staring at him in ways no one had ever stared at Eddie. The way that said he had no idea who Eddie was and it was always great to have a fresh start like that.

Then Eddie fucked up by not reading his badge and realizing exactly who was there.

And like Dustin had once predicted, the second he met Steve’s eyes, he was a gonner. There was no resisting him.

He was smitten and the hole was too deep for him to claw his way out of.

He went home and looked up a bunch of videos that seemed suspect as fuck, so in the end he called Dustin who showed up at Eddie’s trailer with an arsenal of websites.

“Can’t you just get me, like, a book or something?” Eddie had asked, feeling intimated and overwhelmed and already kind of tired.

Dustin had given him the bitchiest bitch face that ever bitched. “You can’t learn ASL from a book, numbnuts.” Then his hands twisted into the complicated shapes—all fast the way Dustin kept bragging about—and Eddie assumed he was repeating most of what he’d just said.

Eddie damn-well knew that if he actually wanted Steve to say yes to him, he was absolutely going to have to learn because while the kids said Steve could speak, he hated doing it. And Eddie was the kind of guy who had been rebelling against forced conformity his entire life.

So yeah, he’d rather die than put that choice to Steve.

He learned enough to feel confident going back to the mall. And Robin was once again playing the long game with Vickie who would literally drag Robin into the cleaning closet and rock her world if Robin only asked—but he knew she wouldn’t. But it left the perfect opening for Eddie who walked up to the counter, panicked, and immediately forgot everything he’d learned about ASL in the time he’d been away from Steve’s ice cream counter.

In the end, he remembered a little, then tried to backtrack and tell Steve he’d ask him out when he was a little more fluent.

Which made Steve laugh, and Eddie wouldn’t find out until much later that it took at least seven years of immersion to become fluent so…

Yeah it was kind of hilarious.

For Steve.

Mortifying for Eddie.

The blow was softened when Steve touched him—like actually touched him without reservation or hesitation. And then he told Eddie he didn’t want him to wait. Eddie was fine as he was—that patience with his language could be a thing and Jesus H Christ Eddie was pretty sure he could die right then.

Except if he died he wouldn’t get the chance to touch Steve back, and kiss him, and make him laugh, and make him make other noises and Jesus H Christ he wanted that so bad he could taste it. Because he’d been avoiding Steve for what felt like half his new adult life but he was head over heels smitten in two visits to the ice cream shop.

And he didn’t even like ice cream.

He was lactose intolerant for fuck’s sake.

Anyway, he got Steve’s number and he didn’t wait to text.

But the date did.

They planned for the movies and then…

Wayne got hurt at the plant. He ended up being fine, but it scared the absolute fuck out of Eddie who staying at the hospital until his back hurt from the small chair, and his phone was dead, and he felt like passing out.

The nurses had to kick him out, and Eddie walked out of the room in a fog, and stumbled into the downstairs lobby where he came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a familiar, gorgeous head of hair. Steve was facing away from him with big headphones on, bobbing his head to…music?

Eddie totally didn’t get it, but he couldn’t help himself from walking over and laying a hand on Steve’s shoulder. He felt like shit when Steve jumped half a foot off the chair, but then his face broke out into a soft, sympathetic smile.

‘Hi.’ It was a simple enough sign that Eddie didn’t have to try for that one. ‘You OK?’ He signed slow, mouthing the words.

Eddie swallowed heavily, then shrugged. His fingers felt a little stiff and he wasn’t sure he had the emotional capacity to take embarrassing himself by getting signs wrong no matter how frantically he’d been practicing since the day at the mall.

Steve’s face fell a little more, and Eddie was pretty sure he’d never seen anyone look so…so soft at him before. He walked around the benches toward Eddie, then yanked him into a hug. It was so unexpected that Eddie just…melted. His head pressed against Steve’s headphones which were blaring with music, and Eddie had about a thousand questions but instead he just lost himself in the way that Steve hugged.

It was…a lot.

Of course, it was mostly that Eddie just never, ever got hugged and all the touching he did was imitated by himself and almost never returned, but that was a different trauma for a different day.

For now he just let himself have this. Have Steve. Have the body pressed to his and voiceless permission to kind of shake apart after holding it together for hours, and hours, and hours.

When he pulled back, Steve gave him a cautious smile and Eddie reached up, tapping Steve’s headphones.

‘Hurt?’ Eddie asked. ‘Loud?’

Steve frowned, then rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, turning off his music before pulling them back and draping them around his neck. He shook his head and shrugged. ‘Can’t…hear?’ Eddie was pretty sure that was the sign for hear. Not hearing, which was a little finger twirl under the bottom lip. ‘Not hurt Feel it.’

Eddie nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets before remembering—oh shit, I need those to like, talk to Steve, and pulled them out again.

Steve laughed—but he was maybe one of the only people in the world who didn’t seem like he was laughing at Eddie, and wow what a goddamn novelty that was.

Steve tapped his arm and Eddie looked up at him as Steve curled his hand into a C-shape and dragged it down his throat. ‘Hungry-you?’

He was starved. He mimicked the sign and remembered the lesson he learned online where he had to exaggerate the sign if he wanted to emphasize what he was saying. So he ran his C-hand over his throat a few times, then added, ‘Eat, before, work.’ He met his left wrist with his right wrist once with heavy force. He knew that wasn’t right but maybe it was close enough?

Except Steve was suddenly all red in the face and making a choking sound. Eddie took a step back, but Steve reached out and snagged his arm before he could get too far, shaking his head.

Eddie was pretty sure he was supposed to be mortified but right then he was mostly curious and uh…yeah. Steve was touching him again so that was good.

Steve touched the underside of Eddie’s chin and he made an embarrassing noise which Steve must have felt because his grin twitched a little wider. Then he shook his head.

‘H U N G R Y,’ he spelled very slowly. He repeated his sign, then added, ‘S T A R V I N G?’ He made a little question mark motion with his finger. It was weirdly cute, and Eddie didn’t describe things as cute very often.

He nodded. Yeah. He’d been trying to say starving.

Steve made a noisy sort of huffing sound with some rumble behind it, then squared his shoulders and nodded before raising his right hand. His left signed, ‘Watch.’

Eddie nodded.

Steve made an exaggerated face and dragged his C-hand down his throat with more force. ‘Ok?’

Eddie nodded. Okay, yeah. He could do that.

Steve wasn’t done. ‘W O R K?’

Eddie smiled and nodded his fist. ‘Yes.’

Steve tapped the inside of his right wrist against the back of his left wrist. ‘Work,’ he signed.

Eddie repeated the sign, and Steve nodded, giving him an enthusiastic thumb’s up.

‘Now- go-you-me.’ Steve signed—Eddie was...pretty sure? God he needed to practice more.

But he answered Steve with a happy, ‘OK,’ and didn’t mind at all when Steve took his hand.

Until suddenly he did mind because…

He dragged Steve to a halt and cleared his throat, pulling out his phone with his free hand and typing as fast as he could, ‘What did I say? Before? What did I fuck up?’

Steve’s eyes got wide and he waved him off, but Eddie tugged on him until Steve let out a small groan, snatched the phone, and began to type. Eddie had not one single qualm about reading over his shoulder, and in about five seconds, he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

“I signed what?” he demanded aloud, forgetting himself entirely.

Steve looked over his shoulder, his face kind of…different. Confused? Full of pity at how fucking pathetic Eddie was? Embarrassed to know him?

Was he…

Eddie’s thoughts came to a sudden, screeching halt when Steve cradled his face between his hands. He leaned forward until his lips were practically brushing Eddie’s ear and he whispered aloud, “I’d be happy to fix that problem too.”

Eddie was already pretty sure spontaneous combustion was a thing, and now he was about to be living proof because oh my GOD. Oh my... god oh my god oh my…

Steve dragged a thumb over Eddie’s lower lip, then raised his brows like he was asking, ‘Is this okay?’

Eddie nodded frantically and Steve began walking him backward until his back suddenly hit…oh. It was a tree. The bark was sharp against his bare elbow, but all of that ceased to matter the second Steve’s lips touched his. It wasn’t a wild, desperate kiss of star-crossed lovers in the books Eddie secretly read.

No, it was soft. It was gentle.

It was warm and it was fucking needy as hell but it was also the first kiss in a line of what Eddie was determined to have as many, many, many as he could. As many as Steve would allow.

For the rest of their lives, God help them both.

Steve gently licked into Eddie’s mouth before finally pulling away, and the stress of Wayne being hurt and then him thoroughly embarrassing himself, he wasn’t hard or anything, but there was definitely a sort of humming desire under his skin which were as warm as his hands were because they...

Oh.

He looked down and realized that he’d rucked up Steve’s shirt and was digging his fingers into Steve’s bare hips. ‘Sorry,’ he signed, dislodging one hand.

Steve laughed—a quiet huff mostly through his nose, and he shook his head before stealing a last kiss. Eddie wanted to chase it, but he forced himself to keep his back to the tree as Steve dug into his pocket for his phone again.

‘For now,” he wiggled his phone. ‘Until we can spend more time together and I can teach you more,’ Steve typed out.

Eddie swallowed heavily, then nodded. ‘Why are you here?’

Steve frowned like he was confused why Eddie would even ask that. ‘Dustin said your uncle was hurt. I didn’t want you to be alone when they kicked you out.’

Those words, that simple fucking act of kindness, was almost too much. The emotions overwhelmed him and he wanted to laugh, and cry, and scream, and fucking sing until his throat seized up and he lost his voice.

He stared at the phone screen until Steve dragged a tender touch across the top of his hand, and he looked up.

‘Come home with me tonight. Sleep,’ Steve typed before shoving his phone back into his pocket without waiting for Eddie’s answer. He knew he should probably say no because they hadn’t even had their date yet, but then again, Eddie had never been conventional.

Never would be conventional.

He rubbed a flat palm over his chest. ‘Please.’

Steve’s eyes darkened, just for a second. Eddie panicked before he realized that no, he’d gotten the sign just right. Steve was just maybe thinking of other ways Eddie might use that sign and…yeah.

Shit yeah.

Maybe not now. Not tonight. Not even very soon.

But soon enough.

Steve linked their fingers together and tugged…

And Eddie followed.

***

(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up. Common mistake in ASL- Hungry=Horny. Work=Fuck. Steve is kind of okay with that idea too lol)

#Steddie #Steve Harrington #Deaf Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #modern AU #Stranger Things #dustin henderson #steve x eddie

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readychilledwine · 5 months

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Hi Liz! I have been following you for a while now and I absolutely adore everything you write. You are incredibly talented and deserve all praise for it ❤️

I have never actually requested a story from any author simply because I will devour almost any content by fanfic authors and truthfully it makes me feel a little greedy and I never want anyone to feel forced to write anything. However, I have had this idea since I read one of your stories and I feel like no one else would be able to do it justice like you would.

Essentially, the reader is the youngest Archeron sister and is mated to Azriel (mating bond has been accepted and they have been together for a couple of months now) but she is inexperienced (her first time was with Azriel) and Nesta has been giving her some of her hard core smutty books and now the reader wants to explore some kinks with Azriel (somnophilia, cock warming, wing play, bondage) but she’s embarrassed to bring up the conversation with him. Anyway, she eventually has that conversation with Azriel (he’s all too happy about it because no one can tell me this male doesn’t have a corruption kink) and smut ensues.

First of all, thank you for the endless compliments 💜💜 I'm so excited you're here and have welcomed me into your world for entertainment purposes.

Second of all, I could NEVER deny an Azriel corruption kink fic.

Breathe

Summary - A year of sexual exploration hasn't even began to touch the things Azriel would like to do to you.

Warnings - throat fucking, breath play, references to knife play, auralism, jealous Rhys and cassian at the end, mentions of other explored kinks and sexual senerios

Azriel pushed his fingers further unto your throat, his shadows forcing your hair back as he held your book in his free hand.

“I've been wondering why you've been sending me wave after wave of arousal all day,” he rose a brow a passage involving the male character using a knife to pleasure the female main. “Is this what my pretty little mate reads when I'm away? Her big sister's smut novels?”

He watched as you gagged, drool and spit coming to the corner of your mouth as you struggled to breathe and looked up at him doe eyed. “Want me to fuck you with Truth Teller, mate? Does the thought of coming on a deadly weapon soak your little lace panties?” He chuckled darkly. Mocking your inability to answer.

“You're trained better than this, slut. You know to answer me when I ask you a question.” You whined around his fingers. You could feel the tension in his body, feel his need for stress relief.

The two of you had just began exploring physically together. The bond finally snapped after your 20th birthday. After the Mortal queen and the deathless God had been dealt with. After Elain finally let her claws out of him long enough for him to notice you. To feel you.

He had not pushed sex, knowing from Nesta you were the only one of the 4 of you to hold onto that seemingly special thing so tightly. It had taken a year for you to spread those pretty thighs and let him take you, but after that, you fucked like rabbits. Trying every dirty thing and kink your mind wanted to explore.

Azriel had allowed you to dominate him, whining as you rode his cock and denied him orgasm after orgasm, fingers dancing his scarred wings.

He had tied you from the ceiling his dungeon, harnessed up like a swing and fucked you to sweet oblivion.

He had taken every tight hole, came anywhere he could. Marked you in his scent and musk more times than you two could count.

But you were still his sweet innocent girl.

His little untouched angel exploring your sexuality and urges like an animal in heat sometimes. Your recent needs were punishment. You liked him hurting you, dominating you, watching as you cried. You liked breath play lately, hence his fingers sinking deeper as you struggled, black beginning to form in your eyes until he took those fingers out and slapped you.

“Need you to suck my cock, princess,” he began unlacing his leathers, mind lost in the pleasure your mouth would bring him. “Open. Now.”

You obeyed, throat relaxing and mouth opening as his cock sprung free. Hard leaking and angry from weeks away from you. He pushed in without hesitation, setting a gentle pace as he tightened his grip in your hair.

“She couldn't breathe,” his deep voice began reading from the book, making you whine around his cock as he pushed it down your throat ensuring you couldn't either. “The feeling of the cold hilt in her warm walls causing her to feel wave after wave of shock and pleasure.”

He looked down at you, smirking at the sight of your flushed cheeks, at you swallowing around him as spit pooled the corners of your mouth. His eyes went back to the book. “There was something about the danger, the thrill of this deadly weapon being used to push her to the edge that had her crying out, begging and pleading for more and more as she met every thrust with her hips. Fucking herself harder and harder on her mate's weapon.”

You were aching, dripping for him, and tapped his thigh for a quick breath, watching as he pulled out and looked down at you unimpressed. You panted a few gulps of air before taking him back in your mouth and bobbing your head, hallowing your cheeks and licking each vein on his shift.

Azriel groaned loudly above you, setting the book down before his now free hand joined the other one tangled in your now messy hair. He began fucking your throat harshly. Barely allowing you moments of air as he chased his much needed high.

You could do nothing but hold on for life when he did this. When he lost control for you. He pushed all the way in, gagging you again and held you there, nose pressed against his skin. “Breathe,” he commanded in a moan. “Being such a good girl, y/n.”

Throat fucking as new to you. An unexplored territory you hadn't even considered until he had asked gently. You knew it was more for him than for you, but right now you felt this sense of power as he moaned above you, wings shuttering as his body shivered.

That power reached a deep set need in your bones, allowing you to relax and enjoy this more with a small moan. “There we go, angel,” he whispered. “Just like that for me. I'm so proud of you.” He began thrusting again, allowing you to hear his pleasure, allowing you to feel that power you had over him. “Keep breathing, baby,” his voice was almost a whimper. “Just keep breathing, I'm right there, y/n. Please honey.”

Him begging had you moaning against him, relaxing your throat further as your watched his breathing pick up, his plump lips part, his eyes scrunch.

Without warning he pushed all the way in, spilling down your throat, as a roar tore through his own. He pulled back slightly, releasing the last of his cum onto your stuck out tongue with a satisfied smile.

He kneeled down to you, shadows bringing him a notebook and pen and he wiped the small bits that hit your face off with his thumb before forcing you to suck that digit.

He flipped through the notebook, a page dedicated to each sexual act and kink you two had explored with a rating and comments from both of you before landing on the page he needed and the adjoining blank one.

“1 through 5?” He asked you gently, removing his thumb and kissing your forehead.

“3.5,” you admitted with guilt. “I only enjoyed it because you do, and it made me feel slightly in control.”

He nodded, writing your response as you two both moved to sit cross-legged from each other on the floor. “Do not feel guilty. I am just happy it ranked high enough to be in the rotation. How about the reading to you thing?”

“4 out of 5. I enjoyed it a lot when you were doing that.” Azriel jotted it down.

“And what the fuck is going on in this novel? Do you want to try knife play?”

“Only with you,” you answered.

Azriel leaned forward, kissing you gently. “It's one of my favorites. I've done it with a couple play partners. I can answer any questions you have.”

The two of you sat there, filling in a few more pages of the book you had started to keep during the beginning of your exploration a year ago, smiling at the things you've already done, going on your list of retries.

Love was free flowing down the bond, soaking the room and fabric in it's scent, filling the Riverhouse with its presence with every passing moment.

Rhys and Cassian sighed from downstairs, tapping their feet on the wooden floors as they waited for Azriel to come give them his mission report.

“This happens every fucking time,” Cassian sat down on the couch. “Is it us? Is fatherhood killing our sex drive?”

Rhys shrugged. “I don't know what's killing your sex drive, brother. Mine is fine. Hince 3 little ones. If you could figure out what's keeping theirs so... passionate, though, I'd appreciate it.”

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x archeron!reader

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kisses4kaia · 1 year

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can you do one where y/n and charlie are friends and he wants to know how to eat someone out so she teaches him (they end up fuckign))

im so high but happy 4/20 to those who celebrate ☀! fem! reader 17+ nsfw . also unprotected sex is mentioned in this, don't do this ! (btw, title has nothing to do w fic i just really love blue banisters🎃) 🕯️

living legend🪶- c, walker ,,

a yawn exerted your throat as you sat on your best friend's couch, a binder full of homework sat neatly in your lap.

"char? c'mere, i don't get this one," you called out to your friend and furrowed your eyebrows.

charlie quickly sat down next to you, staring at the page. "this one?" he pointed towards the question. you offered a small nod of verification.

as the gears turned in his head, trying to figure out the equation, you stared at the deeply concentrated look on his face.

"i got it. it's 13," he broke you out of your trance when he looked at you with a smile. "thanks, char." you gleamed at him.

his eyes flashed to your lips for a split second, seemingly lost in his thoughts. "o-oh, yeah. um, of course. any time," he gulped and looked away from your face.

"...charlie? what is it?" you could read him like a book, he obviously wanted to ask you something.

"n-nothing! nothing at all!" he defended.

you just continued to glare at him with a knowing look adorning your features.

"fine. i just... wanted to ask you something," he looked down at his hands. "yeah? what's up?" you were curious now.

"promise not to laugh?" he stared at you seriously. you put on your best, fake, solemn, face. "cross my heart," you joked.

he scoffed. "well, uh... i was just wondering if you could maybe teach me how to," there was something else at the end of the sentence, but he was so quiet, you couldn't make it out.

"speak up, charlie." you demanded. a deep breath.

"could you teach me how to give head?" he was much louder and faster with his tone this time.

your eyes widened. he kept his head down, not daring to see the expression on your face. a few moments of silent tension lingered in the air.

you broke through it. "i mean... of course. but, like... why me?" you asked purely out of curiosity.

his head snapped up. "wait, really? well, uh, i mean, there's nobody i trust more than you and i just figured you'd be the best teacher... i guess," his cheeks were now turning vermillion.

"homework can wait, i think." you set the binder on the coffee table in front of you. "mhm, yes." he nodded quickly.

"well, uh, foreplay is really important," you nodded, pulling him closer to you. you took his hands into yours and placed them at the tops of your thighs.

he was frozen, terrified to make any movement. you took account of this and used your hands to run his up and down your thighs. "relax," you whispered.

he nodded abruptly. "yeah, yeah. sorry," he shook his head as if to rid his head of every thought.

you smiled. he was fucking adorable. "i'm gonna kiss you, that ok?" you asked, pushing hair behind his ear. "yes, please," he shied.

you leaned in carefully and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. the kiss was heightened as he pushed you onto your back, not disconnecting his lips from yours once.

his hands explored under your shirt, and you were tired of the restricted material, so you threw it off. he removed his lips from yours to simply stare.

"char? everything okay?" you furrowed your eyebrows. "you're gorgeous." was the only thing he said. you felt your cheeks get warmer as his eyes burned holes into your skin.

his hands found the rim of your pants and his fingers danced around the hem. "go ahead, love." you allowed. he looked up at your face for confirmation and you nodded.

he slipped the trousers down your legs, along with your underwear.

"okay, lay in between my legs," he lowered his face in front of your core, taking in the scent and energy.

"go ahead and try something, i'll let you know what feels good, m'kay?" you began to play with his hair. he nodded and locked his eyes onto your face, ready to absorb anything and everything you gave him.

he licked a line up your slit as he took in the delectable taste. god, he could spend the rest of his life here.

a sigh escaped your lips. it's been a minute.

charlie suctioned his lips onto your clit and used his tongue to circle around it. your fingers tightened their grip on his hair.

this caused a hum to vibrate against you. "fuck, you're doing so good," you praised.

the muscle swirled around your folds and tried everything he'd seen in porn on you, and you let him know what he should continue and what he should cut out.

at one point, his tongue dipped deeply into you, causing your back to arch off of the couch.

he ate out you out like there was no tomorrow until you stopped him.

"wait, char. stop," he pulled away immediately and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"sorry, did i do something wrong?" you shook your head. "no, um... i just want you.. inside me?" you asked, closing your legs, feeling shy.

"are you serious?" his eyes widened. "only if you want to-" he cut you off. "are you kidding? i've dreamed about fucking you for literal years," he quietly admitted. it made your heart flutter.

his clothes were all over the place in no time. "have you ever done this before?" you asked him. "no," his voice was soft and almost embarrassed. "hey, look at me." you allowed him to sit back on the couch.

you moved to straddle him. "let me take care of you, hm?" you looked down at him.

he could've cried.

instead, he nodded. you lined his tip up with your entrance. "ready?" you needed one final assurance. "mhm,"

he was big, no doubt about it. he stretched you out beyond belief as you sank down on him.

the sound that elicited him almost made you cum right there. you allowed both of you to adjust before moving.

when you did, he couldn't help but let his head fall into the crook of your neck. you were so warm, so tight around him. he whimpered and whined into you as you grinded and bounced and clenched around him.

"f-fuck, mommy, you feel so good around me," he whined.

the moan you let out at the name was straight out of a porno. you sped up your pace as you attacked his neck and collarbone with hickeys. you were fully aware robbie, kirby, and jill would see them tomorrow. you couldn't care less.

"t's too much, momma! fuck, slow- slow down," his hands glued onto your hips as tears began forming in his eyes.

"you can take it, right? you can be my good boy and take it for just a little longer, can't you?" you wiped the droplets that cascaded down his cheeks.

he nodded. it was all he wanted, to be good for you. "yeah, i can take it. all for you," he said closing his eyes and allowing himself to feel the ecstasy of your cunt around his cock.

"i'm gonna cum, pretty boy. you wanna cum with me? can you do that for me?" you were breathless in your ask. "please," he whimpered.

only a few swift movements of your hips later, your release was staring you dead in your face, along with charlie's. "now, doll." you whispered in his ear and he let out a strained moan and he let out his load inside of you as you came around his dick.

"oh my god, y/n." he chuckled into the sweat-coated area of your shoulder. you couldn't do anything but chuckle back until you both burst into laughter.

taglist; @themostintellectualblonde @dreamtofus @wannabe-indie-sleaze

#nonnieees💗#kai's got mail <3📑#charlie walker #rory culkin #charlie walker smut #this is so cutie im dead #im so sleepy #sorry if this has mistakes !!#im such a sucker for a mommy kink !!😵#scream #scream 4 #kaia writes charlie

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dustofthedailylife · 8 months

Text

A Stellar Birthday

-> Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairings: Jing Yuan, Dan Heng x (gn!) Reader

Summary: It's your birthday, yet there is something that is tainting your mood. He manages to change that, however.

Tags: Fluff, hints of angst at first (but it's really harmless), SFW, kissing, confessions, Jing Yuan being a scheming master, Dan Heng being bad with feelings

A/N: Second self-indulgent birthday fic! This time for HSR. Hope you enjoy :3

JING YUAN

“Hey.” Your employer briefly knocks at the door of your office to make you aware of his presence before walking up to your desk.

“Hello, sir. Anything the matter?” You inquired carefully, because somehow your gut feeling told you that he was about to tell you something you wouldn’t like.

“Yes. I came to tell you that the vacation day you entered for tomorrow… Unfortunately, you won’t be able to take it anymore.”

“Wh-what? Why?” You ask exasperated. You had booked that day off months in advance because you and Jing Yuan wanted to spend your birthday together.

“I know this is really short notice, but Mei came to my office earlier and it’s her birthday tomorrow. Surely you don’t mind coming to work tomorrow so someone else can celebrate their birthday, right? We’d do the same for you.”

Your boss tapped your desk twice before turning around again to leave, not even waiting for your reply.

The knot in your throat became tighter and tighter and all you wanted was to yell after him that it was your birthday as well tomorrow. Yet, somehow you didn’t have it in you to correct him, also because you could feel that you would burst into tears the moment you opened your mouth again.

You bit back a sob as you could feel the burning sensation in your eyes and some tears welled up. You tried to calm yourself by repeatedly telling yourself that it couldn’t be helped and that your birthday was just another day of the year anyway. No need to make a big deal about it. You could always spend time with Jing Yuan on another day as well. Right?

You learned your lesson and will just explicitly mention that you will take time off for your birthday next year, something that you had failed to do this year and that had caused this situation in the first place. Your boss could’ve checked your employee card and would’ve seen that it was your birthday as well, but he, too, had a lot on his plate and it couldn’t be helped anymore.

Once you were back home from work you slammed the door shut behind you and quickly took out your phone to open the chat between you and Jing Yuan.

‘Need to cancel our plans tomorrow. I’m sorry. Let’s do something on another day.’

You typed and hit send faster than you were able to process before turning your phone to silent mode and throwing it between the pillows of your sofa.

The frustrations of the day began to wash over you all at once at that moment and you could feel the lump in your throat grow to a size that made it hard to breathe. And no matter how much you tried to swallow it down, the tears that started to spill were inevitable. You were angry, frustrated, and just wanted to yell at everything and everyone. Because once again you felt invisible. Like no one in the world cared about your feelings and all you ever had to do was to accommodate everyone else. You hated it and you hated that the feeling was so awfully familiar.

You don’t even know how long you had been crying when the sudden ring of your doorbell pulled you out of the hole of self-pity you had dug for yourself.

You quickly wiped the tears out of your eyes and checked your face in the mirror beside the door. Your puffy, red eyes would betray that you had been crying to whoever was standing in front of the door right away.

So, you contemplated whether it was a good idea to open at all or if you should simply act like you weren’t at home. Because you didn’t really want to see anyone in this state either. Or, god forbid, have them ask if everything was alright. Because, frankly, nothing was alright right now.

“I know you’re there. Open up.”

The familiar voice rang through the door causing you to perk up. Jing Yuan sounded worried. You assumed that he had probably tried to message or call you and you didn’t pick up because you had set your phone to silent.

Your hand wandered in the direction of the doorknob, which you hesitantly rested it on, still unsure whether to open or to play dead.

“Please… let me in.” He pleaded in a way that almost made your heart shatter. So, with much hesitancy, you decided to open the door.

You immediately saw Jing Yuan’s brows furrow when he looked at your face. Pushing past you inside, he closed the door and immediately took you in his embrace.

“Tell me what happened.” He urged sympathetically, gently stroking your cheeks with his thumb.

Under sobs, you began recalling the events of the day, ending it with a full-on crying session by the moment you stopped talking again. You seriously wondered if he even understood anything you were trying to tell because of how much you had started sobbing throughout it.

He hugged you tightly, wiping away your tears once again, and reassuring you that everything would be alright. At the moment you didn’t quite see how, but he always remained right, so you simply nodded against his chest.

Once you had calmed down a bit he briefly excused himself, reassuring you that he would be right back with something that would cheer you up. And not even forty minutes later he was back with two paper bags filled with your favorite street foods and two cups of Immortal’s Delight.

No matter what, he always knew what he needed to do. While you got some plates and chopsticks out of the kitchen you suddenly heard the familiar ringtone of your phone coming out of the living room.

Confused you walked over to where you had thrown it between the pillows. You could’ve sworn you had put it on silent earlier, so why was it ringing now?

You fished your phone out and checked the brightly illuminated screen.

Boss.

Why was he calling now? By the Aeons, you sure as hell had enough of him today already.

“Hello?” You picked up questioningly.

“A-ah. It’s good t-that I reach you. Uhm– actually I-I wanted to to tell you that you don’t need to come to work tomorrow. You get your day off. M-my bad. Heh.” He was stammering and sounded more nervous than an alerted Warp Trotter.

“Uh…okay. Thank you.” You paused, walking over to the kitchen, holding your phone to one ear, glaring daggers at Jing Yuan who was happily chewing away at some gyoza and questioningly raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah. Uhm… e-enjoy your birthday tomorrow. Oh, and I-I happened to check our yearly employee evaluation and I’m happy to in-inform you that you’re getting a raise. Come to my office on Friday. O-Okay… bye.”

You didn’t even manage to get a word in before he hung up again. One thing was certain though, something smelled awfully fishy here, and it wasn’t the food Jing Yuan had brought in earlier.

“Who was that?” He asked innocently despite knowing full well who had just called.

“What did you do?” You asked accusingly, crossing your arms over your chest at which he just raised an eyebrow.

“Me? I didn’t do anything.” He acted completely clueless but the twitch of the corner of his lips betrayed the truth.

You knew the influence he had aboard the Luofu. He was the General of the Cloud Knights after all. Never did you expect him to use that influence for such matters, however.

“So… does this mean I can stay the night and the plan to go out tomorrow is back on the table?”

This man was unbelievable.

DAN HENG

“Happy Birthday!” The Astral Express Crew gratulated you in unison.

Himeko placed the cake they got for you on the table in front of you while March readied herself to snap a picture. Mr. Yang stood by and watched with crossed arms and a smile on his face. And Pom-Pom was attempting to admonish everyone to not get any burn holes in or crumbs on the red leather bench.

March began counting down from three waiting for the perfect moment to snap a picture of you blowing out the candles. Followed by claps and more birthday wishes from everyone once they were extinguished.

Well, everyone aside from Dan Heng.

He was silently sitting in an armchair away from everyone simply typing and scrolling away on his phone. He hadn’t even looked up once for hours now, let alone engaged in any group activities.

You told yourself you wouldn’t let it sour your mood, it was your birthday after all. So if he wanted to brood, let him brood.

However, when you tried to hand him a plate with a piece of cake and he just declined the offer with the excuse of not being hungry right now, not even daring to look at you, you couldn’t help but wonder what was up with him.

As you sat back together with the others you occasionally found yourself stealing glances at Dan Heng to see if you could read anything on his face. But it stayed the same. Expressionless and completely unreadable.

Eventually, after you came back from getting yourself and Mr. Yang a cup of coffee, you found the chair he had sat on all evening empty.

Was something wrong? Did he have a grudge against you?

It didn’t go unnoticed by the others either that you grew quieter and quieter as the evening progressed.

March was the first one to address the elephant in the room.

“It bothers you that Dan Heng didn’t join, right?” And she couldn’t have hit the nail more on the head even if she tried.

You hummed in agreement, taking another sip from your coffee. You looked back to the empty chair for a brief moment, while a thousand questions popped into your head once more.

Ever since the Crew had come back from the Luofu he had been more quiet than usual. He barely even spoke a word with you and kept locking himself up in his room for days on end. It would be a lie if you said it didn’t bother you. Because with every day that passed you wondered more and more why he was acting so differently.

“Don’t worry so much. He’s probably just grumpy about something. He’ll be back to normal in no time.” March reassured with an infectious smile, slinging her arms around you in a quick hug. “Now, we should do something about this gloomy mood. It’s your birthday! What do you want to do? More cake? Dancing? Anything?”

In all honesty, you didn’t really feel like partying as long as Dan Heng’s weird behavior was at the back of your mind constantly. Because no matter what you were doing, you kept thinking about it sooner or later again anyway.

“Did… something happen on the Luofu?” You finally decided to ask.

March seemed to be taken by surprise by your question before immediately and hectically waving off that anything had happened. Unfortunately for her, she could be read like an open book. So, you immediately knew she was lying. But why?

What happened on the Luofu?

You nodded, accepting that you wouldn’t get any answers from her tonight, and excused yourself, telling everyone that you would be heading to bed now.

On the way to your room, you saw that Dan Heng’s door wasn’t closed entirely and a streak of light from the inside illuminated the hallway of the cart. You couldn’t help but steal a glance inside, but you found the room completely empty.

Wondering where he went you walked straight past your room, and through some other carts until you eventually reached the observatory and the very last cart.

And this is also where you found him.

He was sitting next to the telescope at the desk, writing something down. When you knocked on the doorframe to make him aware of your presence, he perked his head up to look at you. Yet somehow he immediately almost looked alert.

“What are you doing here?” His voice sounded panicked, almost accusatory.

“I came looking for you when I saw your room was empty–” You began to explain, confused about the hostility in the air.

“Did you go in?” He interrupted frantically, jumping up from his chair with a shocked look in his beautiful turquoise eyes.

“I–what? No!” You exclaimed in disbelief. “What is going on with you?”

“It’s nothing.” He once again waved it off, as usual. And his demeanor left more questions than answers every time he did just that.

“Nothing? As in nothing you want to tell me? Nothing why you keep avoiding me? Nothing why you keep diverting the topic whenever I try to ask about the Luofu mission?” You huffed in frustration. You could feel anger that stemmed from weeks of confusion and unanswered questions well up in the pit of your stomach, making you ball your fists at your sides.

Dan Heng exhaled heavily, diverting his gaze to the ground, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

“Just… talk to me.” You demanded pleadingly.

He took a few steps in your direction, breathing heavily. And before you knew it the air around him began to glow in such a bright blue light, that you had to shield your eyes in order to not get blinded. Sparkles began to form, making the room ooze with magic you had no idea existed.

When the light finally dimmed again, you lowered the hand you had held in front of your face. But what was in front of you exceeded even your wildest imaginations. Long, silky black hair that faded into dark blue cascaded down Dan Heng’s shoulders, crystalline horns had grown on his head, a translucent dragon tail had formed behind him, and icy blue, glowing eyes were staring right at you.

You wanted to say something – ask so many questions that were burning at the back of your mind, but every word you were desperate to speak died on your tongue. You were too stunned to speak.

He nodded, dropping his eyes, and pressed his lips into a thin line with a defeated look on his face.

“There. This is why I didn’t tell you… why I’ve been acting the way I did. Because I was scared you would think I’m–”

“Beautiful.” You muttered under your breath faster than your brain could process that you just said it out loud.

“What?” He asked in disbelief.

“You look… beautiful.” You almost choked on your words, still in disbelief over what you just said. You had never acted on your feelings for Dan Heng because you didn’t know if he felt the same for you and in fear of making things awkward. But there was no going back from it now.

“Like… I truly mean i–mphh”

Before you knew it he had pulled you in by your waist, uniting your lips with an intensity that knocked the air out of your lungs and made you feel lightheaded.

“Oh god, I-I’m so sorry. I just– I didn’t mean to–” He stammered in panic immediately after breaking off the kiss and realizing what he had just done. Lifting his hand up to his lips shaking his head.

“Please do that again.” You immediately cut him off, pulling his hand away from his face and slinging your arms around his neck while pulling him closer. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest at this point and your face felt like it was burning up.

You could smell the bitterness of the coffee he had been drinking all evening on his breath and the familiar scent of his aftershave. Because despite everything, he was still Dan Heng. Your Dan Heng. The one you had grown to love. And nothing was ever going to change that.

And with one last adoring look into your eyes, he pulled you in once more in a silent declaration of love.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about HSR or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng il x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr fluff #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #hsr drabbles #hsr imagines #🍁 dust writes #🍁彡 hsr

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forbidden-sunlight · 6 months

Text

yandere!beezlebub with makima!reader!headcanons

Warnings: manga spoilers for both Record of Ragnarok and Part One in Chainsaw Man, obsessive behavior, violence, and blood.

There may also be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Hey guys, hope you are all having a lovely spooky month so far! :) I will admit that this fic here is probably one of the most challenging ones I've written because Makima....well, she is the embodiment of a necessary evil and does what she wants, when she wants. She cannot be contained unless it is to her advantage. And I honestly think she would definitely shake things up in Ragnarok...especially when not many people realize who she truly is until it is too late.

Shout out to @nunezs-stuff for their feedback and help on this fic!

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let us see what surprises await :)

You were annoyed with your current situation.

You had lost and died in a fight by the hands of someone who wasn’t Chainsaw Man, someone who hadn’t even been worthy to be the devil’s vessel. You did give Denji some credit for using his mind instead of charging towards his opponent.

No…he wasn’t the one you had fought in the cemetery that day. It had been Pochita, and he had heard every single insult meant to finally break what was left of Denji’s damaged psyche. You had dared to speak like that towards the only person you acknowledged as your equal, and you were punished for it.

Denji consumed your flesh, not as Chainsaw Man as you had always hoped if you ever lost against the legendary fiend. The humiliating memory was still fresh in your mind, but that isn’t why you were annoyed. No, you’ve come to accept that you were outwitted by a mangy dog whose scent you didn’t even bother to familiarize. Rather, it is because you were chained and collared as you had done to Denji, but it is not to a human.

A Valkyrie named Brunhilde was the one who held your leash, and she wanted you to save humanity from being destroyed by the gods by participating as a fighter in the Raganrok tournament.

You weren’t given a choice, because you would either follow her orders, including the commands of her sisters, or you would die. Kill anyone besides your target, you would die. Try to bend anyone, human, demigod, or god to your command? You would die.

Quite a conundrum, even when you still have control over your mind and body and Brunhilde says to just be grateful she’s been merciful.

You sighed. Suppose the only good thing in this predicament is that you can have coffee and do as you please without going against your contract with Brunhilde. If you weren’t wandering around Valhalla, you were either holed up in your quarters reading books or put to work to take care of some business on behalf of the Valkyries.

It wasn’t actually there, but you could feel the collar around your neck loosen and tighten at random intervals. The only way to nullify your contract with the Valkyries is to create a new one with someone else who isn’t a mortal, but even then Brunhilde would know as soon as she lost the leash.

So how can you get away from this tiresome role as a Valkyrie’s right-hand woman without getting caught?

Just when this thought passed through your mind, you felt the collar tugging towards the door from your cozy chair. Ah…it must be time. Marking your place between the pages with a laminated bookmark, you stood up and quickly changed into the suit you had worn from your days as a Public Safety officer. Time to get to work. Perhaps if everything goes well…Brunhilde will allow you to take a peek at the human world and see how your idol is faring. Chainsaw Man must be lonely without you around to praise and shower him with affection, the poor thing.

After witnessing Hades’ death by hands of Qin Shi Huang, the Philistine deity decided that it was time to end this foolish tournament in the next round. Whoever he would be fighting next will not be granted a swift, painless death…that would be too boring even for his standards. Yet when he stepped into the coliseum with the Staff of Apomyius, he froze upon seeing a woman standing idly in the middle, dressed in a suit and tie with [Hair Color] tresses pulled back in a braid. If he hadn’t seen those rings swirling in [Eye Color] orbs, he would have scoffed at the human for being too arrogant…except he now knew this wasn’t a mortal.

His opponent was none other than one of the Four Horsemen in Helheim, a harbinger that fed on mortals’ fear of control ever since Attlia the Hun’s campaign to dominate the world. The Conquest Devil. But why was she fighting the humans whom she wanted to destroy to fulfill a silly fantasy with the Chainsaw Devil? Well, no matter. He’ll just simply incapacitate her long enough to make everyone believe she had died in the fight and take her back to his laboratory as his newest lab rat.

Or so that had been the plan.

The amplified vibrations created from the Staff of Apomyuis to strengthen Palmyra would easily destroy a human’s body even if they were equipped with a Volundr, he had underestimated the Conquest Devil’s regeneration speed because within the moment he saw her body burst into bloodied, tiny pieces, they simply reassembled….and then there was a loud scream from the human’s side, followed by more horrified wailing.

She blinked at him, tilting her head with that condescending smile. “Is it my turn?” She asked coyly.

He scoffed, raising his weapon and to strike again when she suddenly blitzed towards him, pulling her dominant arm back for a strike when he activated Sorath Samekh. The backlash made the appendage fly off, and then it quickly reattached to her body. The dance repeated itself: he attacked, she regenerated. She attacked, he blocked it, and he countered it with another offensive technique that should have killed her….except no matter how many times he should have killed her, someone on the human’s side of the arena either died or screamed in agony as they lost an arm or a leg.

And the more that this fight dragged on, the Lord of the Flies felt his morbid curiosity growing more and more out of control. He wanted her. He wanted the Conquest Devil at his side, but not just as another toy to play with until he got bored. He wanted to know why she was here, how she died, what were her weaknesses and what is the root behind her obsession with the Chainsaw Devil.

Eventually, Zeus had decided to call their fight as a draw that would serve as a tiebreaker. He wasn’t pleased with this outcome, and neither was the Conquest Devil. Beezlebub could see her wanting to finish this fight, covered from head to toe in her blood and wearing a golden collar around her neck with a chain that extended from the arena to the private box on humanity’s side. Brunhilde. There was no one else how would be there, watching this show with a smile and possessing enough power to make the Conquest Devil bend to her will.

Unless….the Valkyrie had no idea the true nature of [First Name]?

He had to resist the urge to chase after her, forcing himself to retreat and take care of the wounds he had sustained from the fight. If it was true that Brunhilde did not know that her right-hand woman was one of the Four Horsemen…this unfortunate outcome to round eight might be a blessing in disguise after all.

He smiled in self-depreciation. Blessing, hm? Nothing ever good comes from those who are around me….but if there is someone who could kill me without having any remorse or becoming attached to the Priest of Gluttony…it is her. He thought, his mind drifting back to the memory of those mesmerizing, empty eyes.

Bonus Content

Brunhilde was furious with the outcome of round nine. Yes, she had allowed [First Name] to fight at half of her full capacity as per the terms of their contract and it was better to take a tie than another loss.

But how in the ever-living fuck did all the secret collaborators of the gods’ campaign to destroy mankind just happened to be in the humanity’s audience? Did [First Name] arrange all of this to happen to take down two birds with one stone? No. That wasn’t impossible. Even if these bastards had betrayed their own species, there’s no way that [First Name] would personally invite them. Not when Brunhilde limited her ‘free time’ in Valhalla, and received hourly reports on her every move.

[First Name] had a damned good sense of smell, but it was her photographic memory, and how she used it today was even worse. Once she had a face and a name memorized, all she had to do was think or say it, then poof. Any physical damage done to her body was transferred to the person whose name left her mouth. It’s why she is still standing without a single scratch on her body.

And seeing random humans getting picked off in the middle of a fight no doubt piqued the old geezer’s interest. That’s probably why he called the fight to end in a draw instead of letting it continue, thus avoiding a panic to occur.

Brunhilde chewed on her thumbnail. Shitshitshitshit! Why do things never go according to plan?!

Taglist:

@swallowtailcherry

@enryegotrip

@onecantsimply

@cassanderasblog

@nunezs-stuff

@justamegafan

@yellow-snark

@the-dumber-scaramouche

@radioactivesweet

@hana-no-seiiki

@thatstrangesheep

@nixes-noxes

@angel-tsugikuni-kamukura

@zodiacs-web

@dance-till-the-death

@deathmetalunicorn1

@dragonempress18

@puffy-bangs

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running-with-kn1ves · 5 days

Text

Sleepy Afternoons

A/N: Teehee ngl I just wrote this as a period comfort fic indulgent for myself. I hope you nerds enjoy it as much as I liked writing it!

CW: AFAB reader on period, jokes of breeding, using a dragon as a heating pad, pretty much just fluff

WC:2000

Synopsis: A lazy Sunday, the perfect start to a week on your period where you'll be constantly pestered by your dragon boyfriend.

A dragon’s hoard in times long before consisted of fine jewels and immense mounds of gold, shiny objects as far as the eye could see. Whether it was stuffed in the depths of a cave or deep in the forest, a hoard barred spikes and “DO NOT ENTER” warnings; whether they were legible or not was never up to the righteous dragon’s responsibility.

Adventurers and bandits never heeded these signs of caution, getting stuck in the narrow holes meant for dragons to shimmy through or meeting their demise through puzzles and endless booby traps-- such monsters were thorough in keeping their treasure safe. Any item that caught the creatures attention could be found in their rich reservoirs, even if they were mere wave-smoothened stones from a lake, an old lover, or a prettily decked-out concubine that was too tempting not to take.

That however, was centuries ago. Dragons, like the rest of us, must conform to modern society, technology too powerful and people too abundant to go around flying and terrorizing just to get one’s hands on a pretty penny.

Your boyfriend, once a ravenous creature with a cave of glittering gems and fine craftsmanship-- that he may or may not have maimed many blacksmiths to steal-- now resided with you in too big of a bedroom. You had argued before buying the apartment; who would need this much space? But his hoarder tendencies clearly made up for the abundance in space. Gaming consoles, silvery granola bar wrappers, aluminum dollar store trinkets, books with glittery covers-- the floor was almost unseeable with his trash and treasure mixed together. He wasn’t necessarily dirty-- in fact every item had its own spot and preferred place, which is why it killed a piece of him any time you threw away something that should not be “decorating” your shared home.

Though as you practically took care of both of you, it was hard to keep up being the caregiver in the relationship. Especially, on your period. Sunday, what a perfect day, to realize you had a whole work week ahead of mood swings and lower abdominal pain, all mixed with the gory massacre you’d face every time you went to the bathroom. Your cramps didn’t usually come in this early of a start, but it seemed like nothing was going quite right today.

“T’s wrong, darlin’?” Your draconic, crusty-eyed boyfriend mumbled into your back. “Somethin’ hurting…?”

He had been asleep since noon, ignoring the stream of yellow shining down on him from between the cracks of the blinds. But with those poor eyes and slightly above average listening skills, he completely ignored the sun and heard your groans of pain as you curled into a ball. The aching in your lower tummy was like hellfire, crisp burning and somersaults of your organs unlike any other pain than usual. Nothing was helping, no cold rags or medicine, it was like your infinite headache and body pains were destined to consume you.

“C’mon baby answer me, I wanna help..” He pouted again.

“Just my stomach..” You downplayed, not sure if you could handle his frantic coddling if he realized you’re period started. The last time you made the mistake of doing so, you had pads stacked to the brim in your bathroom cabinets and tampons in your closets, the mass shoplifting endeavor of his creating even less space in your home. Well, atleast you were set for the next fifty-seven or so cycles.

“I just need to rest n’ I’ll be fine, soon…”

Another wave of pain came through, head ringing as soft nails raked up and down your sweating back.

‘When will this be over,’ you wondered.

Maybe that horrible breeding endeavor your boyfriend was always obsessed with was worth it if it meant you wouldn’t have to suffer through this for nine months. Yeah, just nine months of morning sickness and bloating and growing a whole dragon-human parasite inside of you. But hey… the making part wouldn’t be too bad, and atleast you would be crotch-pain free.

Man, now the pain was really talking through you.

“Yer period, right?” Your dragon wonders, scratching the back of his head. He’s more awake now, and you wish he was still passed out grabbing onto you, even through the sticky sweat from his body heat. “I’m sorry baby…I know it hurts. What’you want me to do?”

“How’d you even know..” You groan, almost annoyed at how keen he is. Next thing you’d know he’d be shoving some pretty pawn shop jewelry for you to hold to distract you from the pain.

“I don’t think.. You want to know. And well there’s the obvious, I noticed you changed the bed covers.”

Oh lord, was he talking about that split tongue-nose smell-ability ‘dragon thing’ again? Could your embarassment get any worse?

“Does that mean you’ve… EVERY TIME? Every time you knew?”

He sheepishly fell into the new sheets of warmth, those dark eyebrows lifted in innocence.

“Sometimes before you knew, I think.”

Officially, you wish your boyfriend was asleep again. Maybe you’d just strangle him to end this mind-numbing conversation.

“What can I do?” He repeated. “Get you more pads?”

“No.” You shut him down as soon as the words left his mouth.

“What then? A snack, more pillows? Now’s the time to be babied, you know. Unless you’d be okay with me coming to work with you--”

You groaned, partly to shut him up and to vocalize the squeezing, contracting inside of you.

His clawed fingers came to cradle your belly, right below your belly button on your pelvic muscle. He rubbed, just gently, back and forth with a slight pressure as your head buried into the sheets beneath you.

“Just this.. is fine..” You murmur, feeling hot, humid breath exhale against your neck, emerald green slits baring into your twisted expression. He was watching you, the way your body reacted, the little signals of discomfort.

You heard a slight flutter of his wings as they adjusted, his body fitting against yours like a puzzle piece; it was nice to be the small spoon again, rather than cradling your needy dragon lover like a cocoon as he so often desired.

The dragon slowly pushed a leg between your bunched knees that stuck together, getting easier access to your tummy. His palm was so warm, as the torso flushed behind you kept a reassuring prresence. You almost turned on your back to get his palm farther against your stomach, the slight pressure and warm temperature soothing the ache in your lower back and groin.

“You know… I could always breed ya, then you wouldn’t have to--”

“Don’t try to convince me right now.” you spat, turning into him as his hand worked magic, the other brushing hair off of your neck and cheek. “That’s not an option, especially right now.”

“Well, at the very least I can make you feel good. Might ease up some of the pain, yeah?” He laid back down to lean in closer.

You sighed; he clearly didn’t understand the discomfort and embarrassment that his oh-so keen intimacy would bring you right now. You loved the sentiment, and maybe you’d be up for it if you weren’t solely thinking about your physical misery, but you barely had the fortitude to look back toward him.

Your dragon buried his flared nose into the top of your head, lined against you like a perfectly shaped heat blanket.

“You wouldn’t even have to do anything.. I’ll do whatever makes ya feel better.” His other hand snakes beneath your hip against the bed mattress, pulling you back toward his body even closer, if possible. The warm, spiked fingers tapping alongside your pelvic bone made your skin spark, your lower stomach buzzing with numbed pain and a fullness that made you want to sleep for another week. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” He frowns. “Your face.. You look so, uncomfortable.”

“Wow, thanks.” You jab, feeling a heated tail slither up your knee, to your thigh. It almost flicked in apology. “Mm.. Just stay my heating pillow and I’ll be fine.”

“I can do that.” The confidence in his voice worries you, knowing he’ll do an unnecessary load of more than you asked for. Your fetal position was gently yanked free, a pounced creature on your back as you’re forced onto your stomach. “I’ll be the best spiky heating pad you’ve ever seen.”

The strong, scaled forearms of your draconic spouse come to wrap around your hips, a burning touch ringing from his skin, worming his way beneath your comfortable pajama pants and shirt, skin on skin as his body temperature rises to accommodate your desires. His forearms seem to ripple against you, fingers tickling your sides as his legs trap against your thighs from above, most if not every length of his body pulsating against yours like a live, scaly cocoon intent on making you his personal plush, and he your sweet, warm monster.

“Feel better baby…” He kissed at the nape of your neck, sandpapery forked tongue popping out to lick away your sweat. “It’ll be over soon.. I’ma make it all better.”

You leaned deeper into the stuffy mattress sheets, the pressure on your abdomen welcomly encouraged as you push as far as possible into his fiery hands.

“I’m betting on it.” You muffle into the pillows, squirming your hips against his his body, warm chest and carved quadriceps surrounding you. The slight pressure of his inner thighs against your hips was welcoming, his mounted position atop of you seemingly odd to an outsider-- but you didn’t care how weird it might’ve looked, as the calm of your gutted abdomen took over.

You yawned into the side of the pillow as you turned your head, lifting your hips just a little to soak in the heat radiating from behind you.

“Awe’d, so sleepy huh? Need a little nap?” the dragon behind you poked.

Who knew a murderous, millenium-old dragon would be sweet-talking you so gently-- just a few centuries ago he was murdering travelers for stumbling just a few steps too close to his prized hoard.

“But I just woke up.” You protest, upset at the sleepiness of the afternoon that was rubbing off from your draconic lover on you. “Got too much to do, can’t lay in bed all day..like you.”

You groan into the pillow as a wave of cramps hit you, only slightly set ajar by the gentle massaging of the skin above your pelvic bone.

“Hrmm.” Your boyfriend thinks, shoving his warmly snout against your neck. “I guess it’s unfortunate that I’m not going to be letting you go then. Not allowed to get up until you feel better.”

You laugh, taking one of your dragon’s toasty hands to your chest to hold onto.

“I’ll be here all week, then.”

It was here you felt the safest, the warmest, the most vulnerable and easily devourable-- well, thankfully dragon’s didn’t particularly have a taste for the flesh of humans. Shutting your eyes, you let the guttural ‘hrmm’s’ of your dragon lull you to thoughtlessness.

“If that’s what it takes..” He presses a deep kiss close to your forehead, relishing in the sweet scent of your hair. The huffs from his nose tickle the back of your ears, such petrichor warmth and humidity so reminiscent of past lazy mornings. “You’re not going anywhere, my diamond.”

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taintandviolent · 1 year

Text

Ouija Board (Tate Langdon x Reader)

Summary: You have a sleepover at your new house, and your friend decides to bring out your Ouija board. But, you’re all teenage girls, so the questions are completely unhinged and un-serious. But, the ghost you’re talking to takes full advantage of the situation. It’s a perfect opportunity, he’s been watching for you weeks. You’re living in his room, afterall.

warnings: 2.9k words -- self insert! female receiving. shameless smut. post-death Tate, ghost sex, cunnilingus, handjob, rough sex, unprotected sex, mention of ghosts/death.

Ao3 link here! Full fic below the cut! 18+.

tagged: @zabelcolin @kaismanwich @elsamars @thewolveswithin @marylovesevanpeters @80strashbag @r-3tro @twinkiemaximoff @milkovich-misfit {dm/ask to be added!}

It was the third week in the new house.

It was the first time that you actually felt at home. Somehow, you’d managed to make two friends from school, which was equally as shocking to you as it was to your parents. In previous schools, you’d always been on the outskirts, bored stiff at the idea of socialising. When you’d announced to your dad at dinner that you’d actually braved the choppy shores of friendship, he’d nearly choked on his coffee.

“That’s wonderful! Why don’t you invite them over for dinner tonight?” Your mom asked, setting her mug down on the table. You rocked your foot back and forth, mulling over the idea. Previously, your days off from school had been spent unpacking and checking around corners, listening to the creaking and whining of an old house.

Your mother was delighted with its age, commenting on the Tiffany glass and wood — but you felt things that had rotted underneath the wood. Things that whispered when your back was turned, or lingered in the kitchen when you went for a glass of water in the middle of the night.

“Okay, sure.”

So that night, instead of flicking the light switch off in your bathroom and making a beeline for your bedroom, you sat on the floor with Jessica, Angie, a dish of pizza rolls and three glasses of grape soda.

You swallowed the mouthful, and nodded. “No, I’m serious. This house is weird. The first week I was here, in the kitchen… I saw a blonde lady with a hole in the back of her head.”

Jessica snapped the book she was leafing through, and turned. “I bet she was murdered. Don’t you have an Ouija board?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, pointing towards the bookcase. “Never used it, though.”

“You’re going to. This is much more fun than going to Town Hall and asking for records on previous owners. Sometimes, they don’t include death certificates — which is obviously what everyone is interested in. That’s the good stuff.” It took all of three minutes for Jessica to set it up. In unison, the three of you delicately placed two fingers on the planchette.

“Okay… so, what do we ask?”

You chewed on the inside of your lip, thinking.

“Is there anyone here with us?” You blurted out.

The planchette skidded to life, circling in the middle of the board. You’d seen it happen in movies, but the actual sensation was an unsettling one. YES. You all exchanged looks, searching for any guilty expressions — but it seemed that none of you had opted to play any tricks. The planchette had moved by itself.

“Did you die here?” Angie asked.

YES.

Jessica gasped. “Ooooh, what if it’s a cute ghost boy like in Casper? Can I keep you?”

Completely enrapt with the idea, she turned her attention to the board, and asked, “Is the spirit in this room male?”

YES.

“Well, that rules out Miss Hole in her Head.” You cleared your throat, focusing on the printed letters. “Have you been the one in my room every night?”

“The one in your room every night?!” Jessica hissed, shooting a pointed look at you. You shrugged apologetically. Angie, who was visibly uneasy with the entire idea, almost fell backwards when the spirit answered.

YES.

“Oh my god!?” Jessica hung her head between her arms, laughing. “It’s probably some old grandpa with a shrimp dick, let’s be real here.”

“Bet. I’ll find out. Do you have a big dick, Mr. Ghost?” You asked.

Again, the planchette zipped to YES. Whoever he was, he didn’t hesitate. Cute. The three of you howled, laughing at the ridiculousness of the question. Angie desperately tried to redirect the conversation by asking the ghost what it wanted. The planchette spelled out HER.

Jessica lifted her fingers, and Angie screeched at her to return them. “If you don’t say goodbye, the spirit will have an open invitation to come into you!”

“To come!?” Jessica mocked. “To come into me?! Oh, the horror — don’t come into me! Pull out first, Ghost.”

Angie scowled. “You’re so gross.”

As they bickered, you stared at the planchette. It was still active, despite Angie and Jessica’s attention being pulled away. It quivered back and forth, as though it was shaking nervously.

Once Jessica’s wandering mind had been reigned back in, the three of you managed a few more more questions; some about murder, some about occult, and some about other ghosts in the house. Eventually, the sun disappeared from your window, plunging your room into darkness, and your mother called the three of you down to eat. Your friends stayed for about an hour after dinner, and they’d seemingly forgotten about the Ouija board. You hadn’t, though. You leaned your back against the door, the coldness of the glass piercing through your cotton shirt. Your eyes trailed up the staircase, following the bend of the bannister as it curved to the left. Before you made your way upstairs to ready yourself for bed, you craned your neck down the hall, trying to listen for the whispers.

You sat upright in your bed, gasping for air. The book clutched in your hand fell to the floor with a thud. You hadn’t even really remembered falling asleep, but the creak of your floorboards had woken you up. You were met with nothing but the silence and glittering darkness of the room while your eyes adjusted. Eventually, the speckles turned into furniture pieces; your dresser, your mirror, your bookcase… everything seemed in order. The clock on your bedside table incessantly blinked 2:34 AM.

Something skidded across the floor, a spinning blur of tan and black. You yelped, throwing yourself up against your headboard. Your room was silent save for that sound of something hard scooting against a flat surface. You took a deep breath, and crept forward gingerly, wincing each time your mattress creaked.

You gripped the edge of your bed frame tightly, knuckles paling. You peered over. In the middle of the floor where you’d been sitting earlier, the Ouija board was laid out. The planchette swept across the board as it had earlier, but this time with no hands to guide it. It zipped across the board aggressively, as though it was trying to get your attention.

“Hello?”

The triangle paused, then slowly drifted to hello.

Dumbfounded, your mouth opened and closed. You were at a loss — because no horror movie had ever given you any idea how to politely hold a conversation with a spirit outside of the traditional setting.

“Um…. can I… help you? Are you here to possess me?”

Stupid. That was stupid.

Watching as the planchette swept across the board, you read the letters allowed.

“L…A…Y…. Lay? Lay. Okay. B…A…C…K? Lay back?” You waited for further confirmation, but the planchette stayed still for a moment.

It started spinning again, quickly spelling out a final instruction. “Close my eyes. Lay back and close my…. eyes.”

You heaved a sigh, and against your better judgement, you did. You shimmied back underneath the covers, pulling them up to your chest, and waited. The seconds were excruciating, and you were sure some horror movie had to have started like this.

The duvet rustled at the bottom of the bed, and all at once, a gust of cold air hit your feet. The mattress gave to the weight of someone, and you yelped at the feeling of clothed shoulders nestling in between your thighs.

A broad hand ghosted across your stomach, fiddling the scalloped edge of your pyjama shorts. It swooped into your inner thigh, then circled down along your knee. Though the actions were soft, you couldn’t help but feel the knot forming in your stomach. Letting out a soft whimper, you bit your lip, clamping down hard. One hand slid up, caressing the curve of your ribs. You writhed. “You’re driving me insane…” you whispered harshly. Had you really been that touch starved?

Lips hovered over your inner thigh, the hot breath washing over the warm skin. A single finger ran along the inside, trailing further and further up. He slowed as he neared you, wordlessly asking for permission.

“Please,” you begged, doing everything you could not to scoot your hips down into him and embarrass yourself any further. “Please…”

He continued. The pad of his finger floated over you, stroking, teasing until the wetness soaked through the threads. The hands disappeared, but only to return to the sides, where they gripped the waistband, tugging them softly off your hips.

You took a deep breath and immediately clamped your hand over your mouth, muffling the shrill whine that tried to escape. Whoever he was, lapped at your cunt like it was a melting ice cream cone, and it didn’t take long for it to start weeping, soaking the green sheets beneath you.

Your chest rose and fell quickly, and your eyelids fluttered, overwhelmed with the sensation. Everything was white and on fire. Your thighs trembled deep within the muscle with every flick of his tongue. Were you really getting eaten out by a ghost? Was that actually happening? You felt silly acknowledging that. His tongue flattened out against your clit and you let out a whine, erasing every other thought. He pressed his face deeper into your wet folds, tongue flicking at the underside of your clit.

“Fffffuck, oh my god.”

You had to know. You swallowed, and tightened your lips into a thin line. You were ready for whatever horrifying visual would meet you. With one final surge of courage, you flipped the covers up, opened your eyes and gazed into the tented darkness. A head of soft, blonde curls bobbed softly between your legs.

“HELLO?!” It wasn’t a greeting, but the boy lifted his head from your cunt. Two dark eyes glimmered at you from beneath the duvet.

“Hey,” he said, chin glistening. “I’m Tate. I used to live here.”

“You’re so…. cute?”

He smiled crookedly, the dimples in his cheek deepening. “Were you expecting Freddy Krueger or something?”

Your head fell back on the pillow like an anvil and a breathy laugh broke your pants. “Yeah, maybe. Jesus Christ…. I don’t know. I’ve never had a ghost between my legs.”

“You liked it. You’re so wet.” He was pleased with himself, you could tell. Reaching one finger up to stroke your opening, he angled his head to watch the way you clenched and squirmed at his touch.

“Was I… were you the one I was talking to with my friends?” He nodded. He shifted his weight, manoeuvring himself up until he was above you, supporting himself with hands on either side of your neck.

“I’ve been watching you since you moved in, Y/N… I didn’t want to scare you away.” He confessed, searching your face. “I’ve wanted you for weeks.”

You were scrambling to keep your thoughts in one manageable bundle. On one hand, this scenario was insane and you were sick to be enjoying it. On the other… sure, he was dead, but he was easily one of the cutest boys you’d ever seen and the way he wanted you was intoxicating. His dark eyes darted from your lips to your eyes, wordlessly asking for permission. You craned your neck up to meet him, pressing into his plush, pink lips.

You’d never been one of those boy crazy teenagers, but you understood the cathartic release that sex brought. It was carnal and natural. You’d only ever slept with one other person, so the hunger was never sated, and you were left quietly fingering yourself after your parents fell asleep. Every time you’d had the chance to have made out with someone though, you tasted them. Deeply. Kissing someone released their scent, the one that only intimate partners got. And none of them had ever been as heady and addictive as Tate was. You tilted your head to get further into his waiting mouth, swirling your tongue with his. You whimpered, sending a moan down his throat.

You reached under, sliding your hands down his stomach. The tiniest trail of hair guided you to the waistband of his jeans, where you made quick work of the buttons. Breaking the kiss only to help with scooting his jeans over the curve of his ass, Tate quickly returned his lips against yours, his tongue moving past your lips eagerly.

Although you were going in blind, it wasn’t difficult to find his cock. Not only did it take up most of the space between you two, but it was hot to the touch, the heat radiating from beneath the thin fabric of his boxers. You pressed your hand against him, getting an idea for the length.

“Huh. So, you weren’t lying about that.” Tate’s hips ground against your palm in response. You reached up, flipping the elastic down so you could slip your hand in, dragging your fingers along the soft tip. Your palm was immediately slick with his precum; the thick fluid coated the soft skin. You used your thumb to smear some of it to the underside of the head, teasing at the ridges. He groaned, burying his face into your neck.

“I didn’t lie about anything you asked me.”

You began stroking him underneath the sheets in slow, full movements and Tate’s breathing hitched, hips bucking forward involuntarily. You sped up, feeling warm droplets dribble onto your exposed tummy. Your thumb pressed into the squishy flesh of his head, not expecting the reaction that followed.

“Mm-uh—please. Please, I want you. Please.” He was begging, whining, and his big brown eyes were filled with a pathetic yearning that made your walls soak even further.

“So do it.”

He wasted no time in completing your demand. He sat up, the covers falling off his back.Tate gripped himself, giving his cock a few pumps before he lined himself up, pressing his hot, leaking tip into your entrance. Snatching the opportunity from him, you bucked your hips up to his, forcing his cock inside. You clenched around him hungrily and Tate let out a throaty whine as he pushed the remaining length into you.

He started out slow, taking his time as he slid in and out of you, but the slick pull of your walls each time he slid out unravelled his concentration. Each thrust seemed a little more desperate than the last, his balls slapping against you, splashing the mixture of his spit and your cum against your inner thighs. Bottoming out inside of you, he arched his neck backwards, letting it hang heavy. “Are you a virgin?”

“Wha — no.” You breathed, adjusting your head on the pillow to look at him. Odd question to ask in the middle of the deed. “Why?”

Tate swallowed, and between pants, said, “Because…. you’re so wet.” He dropped forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His cock was still inside, the girth hitting you at a new angle, and the fullness made your stomach clench.

“I’m going to fuck you hard, okay? Tell me if I’m hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You nodded fervidly, and slithered your hands underneath his sweat-soaked shirt until it gathered. Tate lifted his arms, and allowed you to slip the shirt over them. You tossed it towards the edge of the bed, and raked your nails along his naked chest.

“Please.” It was your turn to beg. Tate backed his hips out, pulling himself from your warmth. “I want it.”

He dropped back down to his hands, getting a tight grip on the mattress behind you. His lips met yours again, hungrily. It provided only a momentary distraction, because the second that Tate started pounding into you, you could focus on nothing else — except suppressing your aroused screams. He scooted closer to you on the bed, angling himself to get deeper.

He was hitting every spot he could, and your breaths quickened as he fucked you closer to the edge. You bit down on your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. He had just started, and you were already about to lose it.

“Are you gonna’ cum? Huh?” Tate asked, now struggling to keep his rhythm. If you were close, he seemed to be closer — and you didn’t feel so bad. Tate reached down, pulling himself out to slide the tip of his cock over your clit a few times before stuffing it back in. Your lips parted in a soundless scream as you felt the unmistakable warmth filling you, the quivering in your legs, and the desperate, spasming arch of your back.

“Fuck, fuck,” Tate chanted, feeling your orgasm as it gripped him in a wet, pulsing chokehold. “Fuck!”

As he spilled into you, Tate fell atop of your body, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. His hips were on autopilot, erratically bucking with each gush. You winced, on the verge of overstimulation. Gradually, his thrusts slowed.

He flopped over on the side of you, one hand stroking the outside of your thigh delicately. He was gazing at you dreamily when you turned to face him.

“So, do I have to bring out the Ouija board each time I want to see you?”

Tate propped his head up on his hand. “You want to see me again?”

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, a taunting smile curling around your swollen lips. “Uhhh… yeah.”

“I can be here every night if you want.” He purred.

“Haven’t you been anyway? Or did you lie about that?”

Tate’s brows pulled upwards, looking hurt. “I told you — I didn’t lie about anything! I’d never lie to you!”

“Okay, shh —“ You silenced him with your lips. “I’ll be right back. I have to pee.”

For the first time since you’d moved in, you weren’t afraid of ghosts as you walked to the bathroom. You were just afraid that the one in your bedroom would be gone when you got back.

He wasn’t, though.

#Tate Langdon #American Horror Story #ahs murder house #tate langdon smut #ahs smut #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x yn #myfics #fanfiction #ahs fanfiction

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allysunny · 8 months

Note

Hello. Can I request a fic with Nanami and the reader? The reader has a toxic family and asks Nanami to be her fake boyfriend at the family meeting. If possible, it could be comforting.

Faking it for the Family | Nanami Kento x Reader

Words: 5.5k

Warnings: Toxic family, mentions of weight (as in, berating and telling someone to watch what they eat), very rude comments from Reader's family, maybe some OOC Nanami? I don't know, you tell me! And please do warn if I forgot something :)

A/N: Aaaa my first Nanami request! I'm so excited about this! I love this man with my whole heart, he's my biggest anime crush of all time! Now, I do warn you, it's been a while since I've touched jjk (it was a traumatic experience, shibuya is my canon event), so if you think Nanami is OOC, then that might be why. But I can also see him being vocal when it comes to someone he cares about, protecting them and expressing his feelings - or at least trying to.

I hope I did your request justice! I'll be honest, I'm very fortunate to come from a very healthy and loving family, and don't quite know the dynamics a toxic one would have. Nevertheless, I did some research, and I hope you're happy with the final result! I also stayed up until like, 2am because I wanted to post this one before I went on a small vacation and stopped writing for a few days! Totally worth it!

“Your what?”

“My boyfriend.” You repeated firmly.

Scratch that, you were scared shitless.

A few days ago, your mother had called you, asking (more like demanding you) to come see her. According to her, only “bad, ungrateful children” abandoned their parents. According to her, you were turning into a “bad, ungrateful child”.

“You don’t call, you don’t visit. It’s like we never did anything for you, is that how you treat the people who brought you up?” She nearly cried into the phone. Victim-blaming was along your mother’s strongest talents, it always had been.

She’d also reminded you that it would be a shame if you showed up single. She gushed about your cousins, how lovely their wives and husbands were, and how you clearly weren’t working hard enough to find a man.

“It’s not like you have much to offer, dear. The least you could do is prove yourself to be useful, make sure you find a nice man and snatch him up. Perhaps if you learned how to cook properly instead of pursuing that silly passion for books… And you need to start putting some effort into your appearance! No man wants a dishevelled woman – look at how well your cousins are doing!” Then, dismissing her whole behaviour, she’d go, “You know I’m only saying this because I care about you, right? It’s for your own good.”

It made you shudder just from thinking of it.

You’d nearly glared a hole into your phone that night, considering cancelling.

You ran all options through your head.

If you pretended you were sick, your mother would just assume you couldn’t take care of yourself and visit you to do that herself.

Hard pass.

If you said you had plans, your father would tell you to prioritize the family who had sacrificed so much to give you a good life, and to stop being so selfish.

Hell no.

No option seemed good enough.

In the end, your parents would always find a way to make you feel inferior and blame you for not being able to attend. You wouldn’t hear the end of it for at least a few months.

That’s not something you wanted for yourself.

You considered your mother’s words.

Going alone seemed like a nightmare alright. But perhaps if you found someone to attend with you…

There was no significant other in your life (the nail in your coffin, just another reason for your parents to berate you, and you it’s not like you could fall in love with someone in a span of 4 days just to introduce them to the family.

And then, an e-mail from a coworker gave you a brilliant idea.

Nanami Kento was one of your coworkers.

You weren’t the closest offriends, but still – friends.

You two went out for drinks after work every so often, sometimes ordering a box of pizza to share while working overtime at the office. God knew how much you hated it, being forced to work longer than expected, but Nanami shared the same sentiment, and it made work more bearable for you.

You didn’t talk much outside of work – Nanami was a private, reserved man, and you never did have the courage to seek him out. So you settled for a few jokes at the office here and there, the occasional smile, and bringing him bread and pastries sometimes. Nanami was quite the foodie. Outside office hours, maybe a “Have a nice weekend”, or if you were feeling brave enough, a meme – it took him a while to get them, but it was amusing to get his reaction through text.

He was smart, kind to a fault, and handsome. Very much so. You knew he was single, and to be fair, you had no idea why. With those lovely, warm chocolate brown eyes and golden hair, he could get any woman he wanted. And God, his physique… You had once tripped and held onto his arm – the man was made of rock. He was a total catch, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasized about your little overtime endeavours to end up with a goodnight kiss, or perhaps something more. In fact, you’d developed a little crush on him, sneaking away during lunch breaks to try and talk to him, catch up, or just know how he’s doing.

That’s why he was perfect.

Your parents would be appeased, and the family gathering would be much more bearable.

“It’ll just be for a night,” You continued, trying not to sound very desperate. You weren’t sure where you stood with him – were you two close enough to ask such a favour? “We don’t have to do anything physical – just maybe hold hands so they can get off my back. I’ll be forever in your debt, please. I need your help.”

Nanami looked at you curiously. You could see his eyes clearly – Nanami had foregone his glasses during lunch break. What was he thinking? Perhaps he was reconsidering his whole friendship / acquaintanceship. Maybe he was simply coming up with a way of politely declining. Nanami had always been to kind to trifle with you or mock you, God, you’re so stupid, why would he go out of his way to help someone he’s not that close with? It was idiotic to ask.

“Never mind that.” You mumbled, quickly shaking your hand, and dismissing the idea. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a weird request and we don’t know each other that well, and – “

“Sure.”

Your eyes must’ve turned as wide as saucers. Sure?

“If it would help you out and ease your mind, I don’t mind it at all.” He replies, the soft lull of his hypnotising voice making your heart skip just a bit. “I do know what it feels like to be surrounded by people you’re not fond of.”

You suppose he’s right. Every year when the company dinner takes place, you find yourself sitting in a corner, hidden from everyone else. It’s the one time of year where you two can actually talk and consider each other more than simply two coworkers. Maybe even relatively good friends.

You beam at him, bowing profusely. There were no words to describe what you felt – this man was willing to be your fake boyfriend for a whole evening?

“Thank you so much! This means so much to me, you can’t even imagine it!”

Nanami simply nods.

“Shall I pick you up at seven?”

Most often, people stared at themselves in the mirror to check their appearance, try on clothes, maybe give them an ego boost. You? You were practicing facial features.

A hard smile for when your mother told you to “Eat less – you’re gaining weight.”

A polite nod for when one father eventually said “You need to give up those silly hobbies of yours – become a real woman, a good wife.”

A dry chuckle for when one of your many cousins gushed about the wonders of marriage, and how amazing it is they got married so young, to fully explore all romantic bliss and life alongside your soulmate – or something. You never made it twenty seconds without appearing bored of your mind and making your way to an empty chair away from others.

You just hoped they’d leave you alone for tonight, or at least stop with the comments. You wouldn’t be able to handle being humiliated in front of Nanami, of all people.

Speaking of, it’s nearly seven, so you grab your purse and make your way downstairs. Your outfit is nothing bland, just like how your parents would like it. A simply yellow jumper and denim jeans – God forbid you wore a skirt too short, or a shirt too flashy in front of your family. You’d be sure to burn at the stake for that one. This outfit was simple and modest and was sure to keep them quiet for a few minutes.

A little ring from your phone broke your line of thinking.

From: Nanami Kento

I’m outside.

You quickly spotted him in his car, and your jaw hung.

He swiftly exited the vehicle, walking towards the passenger’s side and opening the door wide for you.

You don’t know what to say.

So, he does it for you.

“Good evening.” He’s looking extra dashing, with a dark blue polo shirt that hugs his figure ever-so-perfectly, and slacks. His hair is parted as usual, but it seems much more casual, less uptight, less professional. He’s once more refused to wear his glasses, so you can see his beautiful face up close.

His strong jawline, the strong planes of his face, the thin eyebrows that never did much to conceal his eyes – he looked straight out of a fairytale. The fact that he looked so relaxed, out of his business attire and clad in casual clothes, made this vision much more alluring.

“Hey,” You answered, giving him a soft smile. “You didn’t have to do this; I could open the door by myself.”

“Nonsense.” Nanami shook his head, gesturing to the inside of the car. “Shall we go?”

As soon as you buckled your seatbelt, he left the driveway. You’d sent him the coordinates before, so there was no getting lost as long as you followed the GPS.

There was a small awkward silence between the both of you – it was only normal. You and Nanami didn’t hang out that much after office hours, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that you would have no topics to discuss.

“So…” You started wearily. Might as well warn him about your family. There was no way you were letting this man meet them without being prepared. “I should warn you in advance – my family is…. Well, they’re not conventional.”

“Hm? How so?” He questioned you, quirking an eyebrow yet never taking his eyes off the road.

��They… They might make some rude comments. Or say things that make you uncomfortable. I know I told you about it the other day when I asked for this favour, but I just want to reiterate it. They’re… Well, they’re hard to deal with.” You finished. There was no other way to describe your family.

Growing up, they’d been all but supportive. Berating you left and right, making you believe you were as worthless as the trash on the street. Nothing you did ever amounted to anything. Your grades were never enough. Your passions were always overlooked – the books you read “filled your head with crazy fantasies”, the music you listened to “polluted your mind”.

If you left the house with no makeup on, your mother would assume you weren’t trying hard enough. Would say you looked sloppy and dirty, and that it was shameful to see you not even attempt to pull yourself together. And when you did leave the house looking pretty and proud of yourself, your parents would break down your confidence once more, assuring you that you’re clearly trying too hard, and that men don’t want woman who paint their faces as if they were clowns and dressed in skirts so short, they barely earned the name.

Your achievements didn’t matter. Not when your cousins earned scholarship after scholarship, brought home successful, handsome men or women, assuring the family they were well off and didn’t need to worry about much.

To your family, all it mattered was your image. To them, you were the black sheep of the family. No partner, no children, no high paying job, no success. Considering their mentality, how they still associated themselves with you was a puzzle.

Not even once did they stop to consider your feelings.

Moving out had been the best thing that happened to you.

Sure, it was hard at first.

You spent too long in front of the mirror, wondering if you looked good enough. While conversing with others, it was difficult to open up about your passions and hobbies, for fear of being shut down and dismissed.

But slowly, you’d regained control of your life. You went out when you wanted, with who you wanted. You wore the clothes you liked, without worrying about your parents’ hurtful remarks.

Nowadays when you looked in the mirror, you saw a proud young woman, as opposed to the scared little girl you saw in your early years.

Which made returning to them ever so difficult. They managed to turn you back into that frightened little girl you once were, always so afraid of saying the wrong thing, of doing the wrong thing and making them look bad. They managed to destroy all of the confidence and self-love you’d built for yourself all these years.

“I’m sorry.”

It was Nanami’s voice that brought you back to reality.

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry. Clearly, a family that treats you that way does not deserve you.” He said, matter-of-factly. Like it was the easiest thing in the world, to admit the family that spent years breaking you simply wasn’t worth your time and thoughts.

“Yeah, well.” You mumbled, looking out of the window. What could you say? In theory, you knew he was right. He had to. Other friends who knew about your past told you as much. But it was a completely different story to put that into practice.

For the rest of the ride, a silence fell upon the both of you. None attempted to break it.

“Remember our story, right?” You questioned the man next to him. He stood right next to you, tall as a tower and just as unmoving. You could never guess what was going on in that beautiful head of his.

Nanami nodded silently, turning to you.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We can make up an excuse and leave, if you want to.” He said, and for a while, you considered it. It’d be nice to ditch on your family and spend some time with your coworker. But once again, you knew how this movie ended.

Sighing, you shook your head and gave him a weak smile.

“It’s okay. It’s just for one night.”

He nodded once again.

You took a deep breath and stepped forward, ringing the doorbell.

Almost immediately, the door opened, making way for a woman none other than your mother.

She looked so… so… perfect. Annoyingly so. It made your blood boil. It reminded you of how, in her eyes, you were most definitely not perfect.

Nanami glanced at the woman in front of you. She looked like a perfect copy of you. Or rather, you were a perfect copy of her. But there was a clear difference between the two: While she looked uptight, abnormally prim, and proper, way too polished, you looked, well, natural. This woman looked like her only job was to look good, while you were an effortless beauty. He can only imagine what kind of things a woman like this could’ve told you all your life to make you so nervous back in the car.

“Honey!” She chirps in a voice he can only describe as fake. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!” She pulls you win for a hug, mumbling and muttering about how long it had been since you’d last seen her, how unkind of you that was, how you had no consideration for your family. Ouch.

“Hi mom,” Was your hushed answer as you tried your best to hug her back. And then just as quickly, tried to get away from her bone-crushing embrace. “Y-You can let go now.”

And she did, staring right at Nanami.

“Oh.” She very obviously stared at him up and down. There was no subtlety to the way she ogled him, and you felt some strong second-hand embarrassment from her actions. “And who might this fine young man be? Did you finally step up and get yourself a nice man?”

You sighed. This was going to be a very, very long night.

Nanami stepped forward, placing a warm hand on the small of your back, a hand that slowly brought you closer to him.

“Good evening, Mrs.” He said politely, offering his hand for the woman to shake. She did so gladly, showing him a perfect smiled. A perfectly forced smile. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Mom, this is Nanami Kento. He’s… He’s my boyfriend!” The words felt nice in your mouth, natural. It’s like he was meant to be your boyfriend. Boyfriend. That’s nice.

“Boyfriend! Oh! It’s so nice to meet you!” The woman exclaimed, pulling him inside. “Come in, come in! Of course, you’d be late – We were all waiting for you!”

When you told Nanami your family was harsh, he was picturing something very different. Maybe some unwanted jokes here and there. A comment about your major, a joke about your driving, maybe even some embarrassing childhood stories.

He wasn’t expecting this.

“It is such a surprise that our dearest [Y/N] has finally brought someone home!” Your mother announced, sending her daughter what Nanami thought was a rather sheepish smile. “I mean, at some point we thought we would be the family’s spinster, ha!” And then she sent you the most condescending smile, one that made you want to crawl into a hole and cry. Not even after discovering you have a boyfriend (well, a fake one, but she doesn’t need to know), your mother could be supportive.

“Well, I’ve always been full of surprises,” You retaliate bluntly with a tight-lipped line. Nanami slowly brought his hand under the table to squeeze yours, and when you faced him, you were met with a look that meant more than a thousand words. Stay strong. I’m with you, he seemed to silently say.

“Kento – mind if I call you Kento?” Your father interrupted loudly, not sparing you a glance. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a salaryman. I work in the same office as [Y/N].” Was Nanami’s response. You cringed at your father’s attempt to talk more familiarly with Nanami. It felt odd, it felt rigid, and you just knew what question would follow.

“Ah, I see. Well, I sure do hope you’re at least winning more than our [Y/N] here!” The older man blurted, shaking his head in disappointment. “We told her to focus on her studies, make sure she has a nice paying job by the time she finds a husband, but she instead decided to pursue those… hobbies of her, and ended up with a mediocre office job.” Then, as if his rude observation meant nothing, he added, “No offense. I’m sure you’re a hard-working young man, you should aim higher and consider a career in a more lucrative field. Have you tried investing, or finances? If you want to provide a better future for my daughter, you should be prepared.”

Great, now not only was he making rude comments towards you, but he was also making rude comments towards your “boyfriend”. When would this end?

“Dad.” You cut in, scowling at him. How dare he ask such questions?

“What?” He asked, shrugging. As if these types of discussions were as casual as small talk or mentions of weathers. “I need to make sure that this man will provide for you. After all, you refused to go and do something useful with your life – “

“I think what [Y/N] has done of her life is for her, and only her to decide.” Nanami chimed in. “And as her parents, you should be nothing but supportive. It’s not up to you to decide what’s useful or not.” Your cheeks warmed at that. He sounded so clear and straightforward. He managed to do, within minutes, what you had been too afraid to do your whole life.

Your father seemed to dismiss what Nanami had said, waving his hand about and muttering some incomprehensible gibberish.

While your mother fetched the main plate, the room was filled with light chatter. Nanami leaned towards you, lips softly brushing the shell of your ear. It made your heart leap to have him so close.

“You’re right. I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it through the whole dinner without throwing a plate at any of their faces.” He mumbled, hand still squeezing yours tightly. This small comment earned a chuckle from you, and Nanami smiled at the response. To anyone else watching, you two looked like a lovesick couple engaging in some light banter and gossip.

“Ah! Here it is!” Your mother gleamed, bringing in pots and pans full of curry rice, udon noodles, miso soup, and some other side dishes you couldn’t see. For all you disliked your family, you couldn’t lie – family gatherings had the best food. You had once tried to learn how to cook from your mother, but after two failed commands (in her opinion) and a whole lot of yelling, you gave up.

“You should try the curry,” you told Nanami, holding your plate securely to pour some of the food on it. “She might be a witch sometimes, but her curry is to die for.” This last part was only but a whisper, and it got Nanami to smile crookedly.

God, you loved to see him smile.

At the office he always looked so serious, so tense. Nanami hated working overtime, and no matter how nice the company you kept each other ways, you could still see the exhaustion taking over him most days, rendering him cold and distant.

Here, though?

He seemed relaxed to a fault. As relaxed as he could be in a situation like this.

“Honey!” There was your mother again. Great, you were starting to miss her unnecessary statements! “Are you seriously going to eat all of that?” She inquired, looking particularly scandalised and attempting to reach your plate.

“Yes, I am. Why? Is there a problem?” You tried to sound brave, but Nanami was quick to notice the shake in your voice and the way your hand trembled in his.

“Oh, well, honey, I just think you should be careful! Don’t wanna put on any weight, do you? I’m sure Kento here wouldn’t want you to gain some extra pounds.”

Ah, this woman clearly made a mistake.

Nanami cleared his throat and made a poor attempt at trying to conceal the anger in his voice.

“I assure you ma’am, that is the least of my concerns.” He asserted and removed your plate from the woman’s hands. “Your daughter looks amazing, and if she’s happy with herself, so am I. In fact, I think she looks particularly breathtaking this evening, don’t you? You must be so proud.”

He’d pushed your parents into a corner, and all they could do was stammer and babble and look around for any help from their relatives – help that did not come.

“I’m quite the lucky man.” Nanami gave your parents the same kind of pretentious, fake smile they gave to him, and dug into his food.

And what else could you do but smile? Mouthing a quick “thank you”, you decided to get to eating as well. Seeing your parents so flustered had given you a kind of confidence you hadn’t felt in years, not in front of them, and it felt good.

For a few godly minutes, everything seemed to go well.

You were enjoying your food, and Nanami was exchanging pleasantries with some of your cousins. It seemed almost normal, the way it was going. Your cousin Ichigo and his wife, who were both ten years older than you were particularly interested in discussing the best kinds of liquors with your friend. Hiroshi tried to rope him into a talk of cars, and Makoto expressed his hatred towards overtime.

It felt too good to be true.

Probably because it was.

After dinner, you were the first to get on your feet to help clear the table. The quicker you did it, the quicker you could get the hell out of that place.

You were loading the dishwasher, distracted by the background noise of the chatter and the news that played in the television, when your cousin Emiko approached. Emiko was her parents’ pride and joy. Unnaturally beautiful, she had no real talent other than looking pretty and finding a rich man. It didn’t matter – the family loved her for it, and you’d spent your whole entire life being compared to her.

“So! ‘Cus, do tell us, how much did you pay for him?” She asked coyly. There was something poisonous laced in her words. You supposed it was jealousy – despite being seated near her husband, Emiko had spent the entire evening studying Nanami, running her eyes through his broad shoulders and sharp cheekbones, no doubt drooling.

You sighed. There was never much you could do about Emiko. You either ignored her words or played into her traps, and both options tested your patience gravely.

“I did not pay him, Emiko. Nanami and I have been dating for a while now.” You replied casually. Somehow, you could still feel tingles where his hand had previously been. On your hand, on your waist. The memory of his lips against your ear elicited a full-body shiver from you. “And I’ll remind you that he’s just next door, so please be considerate.”

“Come on, no one else’s in here, you don’t have to pretend.” Emiko peeked at you. When she saw no visible reaction, she sighed, waving her hand around dismissively and rolling her eyes at you before turning to face the kitchen door. “Come on, lighten up. It was a joke. But you have to understand – you were never something to look at, were you?” She snickered, taking a big gulp of her wine right after. “How’d you manage to snatch up a guy like this?”

You were done.

This comment had been the final straw.

You knew Emiko to be mean, but this? Assuming you had to pay for a handsome man’s company, simply because she didn’t deem you as attractive? As interesting?

Were you simply not worthy of love?

You felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes, but before you could try to come up with a reply, a familiar voice interrupted you.

“Actually, it was I who managed to snatch her up.” Nanami was standing by the doorframe, casting you the warmest, most lovely, most caring gaze ever. You felt warm to be looked like that, like you were the most precious thing in the world to this man. “I got lucky. When we first started dating, I wondered how the hell such an interesting, beautiful woman would ever look at me.” A small chuckle. “I still do – I don’t feel like I’m worthy of her.”

Emiko was speechless. She just stared from you to Nanami, from Nanami to you, her words somehow losing their power after this confession.

You looked at Nanami and quickly wiped away the tear that threatened to spill. Seeing this, he walked over to you, pulling you closer by the waist.

“I think you’re wrong, Emiko.” He continued, not even sparing her a second glance as his hand lifted your chin up with the gentleness of someone who holds the entire world in their hands. “Not something to look at? I mean… Look at her. How could I ever be deserving of such a beautiful woman?”

You felt heat radiate from his body, and as if it was second nature, you cupped his jaw with your hands. He was so close, so impossibly close. You could make out every single one of his eyelashes, the bags under his eyes caused by sleepless nights working, the eyebrows that were usually furrowed and deep in thought – Nanami Kento was beautiful.

And according to him, so were you.

He searched in your eyes for any kind of signal. A yes, a no. A simply gesture that could change the rest of your night (and perhaps the course of your, well, relationship forever).

It was almost imperceptible when you nodded, meeting his gaze through lidded eyes.

So he dipped his head, and softly caught his lips with yours.

You’d fantasized about this once or twice. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the real deal. Nanami was a good kisser. His lips moved effortlessly around yours, molding like he had been kissing you for years. The hand at your waist brought you close, close, impossibly close, so close that you couldn’t think of getting away – good. Nanami didn’t want you to ever leave his side.

And you kissed him back just as tenderly, afraid to ruin the moment. Your tongue swiped shyly across his bottom lip, and he gave you one of his signature smiles – reserved, contained, but 100% him.

Behind him, he could hear Emiko scoff and leave the kitchen. Perfect. He didn’t want a crowd anyways.

After pulling away for air, Nanami studied your face attentively.

Your eyes were wide and bright, sparkling with what seemed like magic. He wanted to kiss every inch of your face – your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips. He wanted to kiss your soft, plush lips again and again and again. Thank God you’d invited him to be your fake boyfriend. Nanami had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask you out, and while this wasn’t the most conventional date, he was known for being efficient and straightforward.

“Let’s get out of here. You deserve to be kissed somewhere else.” He mumbled in that raspy voice of his that did things to you. You nodded and held his hand as he led you through the corridors.

The goodbyes were ushered, and the promises to call and come back soon were very blatantly fake. Your parents, however charmed by this man at first glance, refused to hide their scowls at this point. They did not like being contradicted. Neither did your cousins – or rather, the ones that had giggled and whispered and made smaller comments at the beginning like “Wow [Y/N], such a miracle, you finally found someone!” and “Oh, Nanami-san, when you get tired of her, please do call us – we’ll be waiting! What? It was a joke, don’t be such a downer!”.

The ride home had been quiet. Peaceful.

You refused to let Nanami go, and he refused to let you go, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain when he placed his big palm on top of your thigh as he drove.

Then, as you arrived to your place, he walked you to the door, silently holding onto your hand.

You gazed up at him, and then at the floor.

“So…” Why were words so hard?

You wanted to ask him a million questions. Why had he kissed you? Had he liked it? Did it mean something to him? Was it just a distraction? Is your friendship ruined?

“I hope you know it is not true.”

“Huh?” You met his eyes.

“Everything they said.” Nanami refused to let go of your hand, drawing slow circles with his thumb. “It’s not true. You’re the most fantastic woman I’ve ever known. You’re beautiful, and smart, and talented, and kind, and so many other things that I want to say but can’t find the words to.” He’d never been good with his words. But you thought he was doing a pretty good job.

Then, he shook his head, running a hand through his now slightly ruffled hair. “I wish I was better at this. My point is – you’re remarkable, [Y/N]. The way you care for others, the way you’re so unapologetically you, the way you’re not afraid to speak your mind and be heard. Those are all admirable qualities. If your family can’t see that, then it’s their fault.”

You could just stare at him in awe.

“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take you out. On a date, an actual date. Not just some simple last-minute overtime office dinner. A proper date, just you and me.”

A date? With him?

“You can say no if you want to. I won’t force you. But I’d like to take you out for dinner. Or lunch. Or anything you want, basically, I –“ He sighed once again. “Point is. I really like you, [Y/N]. I know, I know, we don’t know each other that well, and I don’t expect you to return my feelings, but –“

“I really like you too.” You blurted out without thinking. So, all of this time, your feelings hadn’t been one sided? He too felt the same as you? All those nights at the office, all those small interactions, making the workplace an easier place to deal with, all of the jokes and giggles and antics – he cherished them too? “And I… I’d love to go out for dinner. Or lunch. Or whatever you want, really! The point is,” You gather yourself, smiling like a fool. “I’d really love to go on a date with you.”

In that exact same moment, while you and Nanami smiled at each other like two shy teenagers, the only witness to your awkward confessions being the moon and the lights from the city above you, you didn’t think of yourself as unworthy, as dumb, and useless and a no-good child. The hurtful comments made by your family were far, far away, like they’d happened a lifetime ago.

You saw yourself the way he did. Remarkable. Kind, talented, beautiful, and oh so worthy of love.

A/N: That's it! I hope you liked it! I love this man so much hehe he deserves all the fics! Thank you for the lovely request, I'm so glad I got to finally start writing for Nanami instead of simply reading!

Have an amazing day everyone! <3

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami reader x yn #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #nanami headcanons #nanami drabbles #nanami x reader #nanami kento fanfiction #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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gyu-effect · 1 year

Text

sucker (for you) || j.ww

“IT’S LIKE I’M A SUCKER FOR YOU”

PAIRING || Wonwoo x Female Reader

GENRES || Best Friends To Lovers AU, College AU, Humour, Fluff

SUMMARY || First year in college was always known to be stressful with all the assignments to complete, parties to enjoy and lectures to attend. But for you, it was a whole different type of stress: the conflicting (and growing) feelings of affection towards your best friend. Falling for him isn’t an option, but neither is avoiding him. So what do you do when you are down bad for the one and only Jeon Wonwoo?

Or, in which, one drunk party sends you hurtling down a rollercoaster of love for your best friend.

SERIES MASTERLIST || teen, age

MUSIC || Sucker by Jonas Brothers

WARNINGS || Nothing actually, mentions of alcohol, just drunk!wonwoo being a menace and me attempting to be funny

WORD COUNT || 14.5k (probably my most massive work till now)

A/N || This is the first time I’m seriously writing for seventeen so I’m just going to consider this as my first full length svt fic. Please do tell me your thoughts!! I had a blast writing this one so I hope you all enjoy it as much as i did! Also, advanced birthday gift (or really belated?) to my bestest friend Ni @jaynaur . I hope we continue to be friends for million years more. Thank you for sticking with me for all these years, I honestly couldn’t ask for anyone better.

TAGLIST || @misssugarlips @loevngyuno [thank you for being interested!]

“You are going to burn holes into his face.”

Kwon Soonyoung hissed into your ears, causing you to glare at him. He raised his eyebrows, as though challenging you and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m not staring at him, I’m just…worried.”

“Worried he’s going to end up sleeping with her?”

“Shut up, Kwon.” You muttered, eyes back onto your best friend, whom you were sure was going to regret every single action the next day. If he remembered, that is. True, the last few weeks had been extremely stressful for him, but to see the reserved Jeon Wonwoo you knew become drunk and act this wild was something new even to you, despite being his best friend for more than ten years.

To the eyes that barely knew him, Wonwoo would come as a tsundere male lead, quiet and perfect in every way. A man who had control of all his movement, and thus also every single girl’s heart. Undoubtedly, he was very handsome. But you knew that the man you called your best friend was far behind the romantic hot heartthrob everyone painted him to be. In fact, he probably had a certificate in the loser department hidden in his bedroom. He was nowhere close to perfection and was too laid back in life. What time should have been spent in getting a social life (you were sure he would have been an alpha male if he had just put in a little more effort) was instead used in levelling up in games.

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. He had been on the dance floor for the past two hours, which was definitely not a Wonwoo-like characteristic. Right now he was aggressively moving his shoulders while awkwardly jerking his head. You were a hundred percent sure if this had been any other normal situation, he would have been very much flustered and embarrassed. But the high level of intoxication in his blood must have made him lose all his senses. As you watched Wonwoo pull out another fancy move (much to the delight of the crowd of girls surrounding him), a completely unrelated question popped into your head. Where had he even learnt those moves from?

“He asked Chan to teach him a few steps, but I guess Chan thought he wasn’t serious.” Soonyoung replied. You let out a small ‘I see’, embarrassed that you had accidentally said your thoughts out loud. When had he asked Chan to teach him? Was there any particular reason? And why hadn’t he told you about this before?

“It is quite shocking. I always thought Wonwoo was the guy who always kept to himself and his comic books.” Soonyoung said. To his friends and you, it was definitely a new thing, but clearly the crowd didn’t think so judging from the squeals erupting around him.

“Did he say why did he suddenly want to learn how to dance?” You asked this time. The boy next to you shrugged, nonchalantly chugging down another drink from the red plastic cups. You grimaced, wondering how people even liked drinking. You personally hated parties and loud music but you didn’t mind if it meant hanging out with your friends. But no one mentioned that today’s party would involve even other people. Still, you managed to keep your sanity throughout the party just trying to enjoy yourself with your friends.

“Your guess is as good as mine. I highly doubt that he wanted to learn to dance on the dance floor. Hey, maybe he was trying to impress you?” Soonyoung grinned at you wickedly.

“Excuse me?” You choked on the chip you had just begun eating.

“Everyone can see the uwu heart eyes you two give each other.”

“And this wrong insight into things is exactly why everyone supports the anti horanghae agenda instead.”

Soonyoung pouted at you and you let out a laugh, your irritation melting away at his cute reaction. You patted his back before adding, “Don’t worry. I’m for the horanghae agenda. It’s absolutely priceless to see the disgust on Minghao and Jihoon’s faces. I will always support you in your endeavour just to provoke them.”

“Y/N! I thought you were my friend!”

You laughed once more before turning your attention back to the dance floor. For a second you panicked when you couldn’t find Wonwoo. He was already an awkward man in front of girls (a point girls often misunderstood thinking he was avoiding them because he was a frat boy who didn’t flirt unless absolutely necessary), and you doubted if he would like a drunk mistake to be the reason he stopped showing his face to the college.

Relief flooded you when you finally found him at the corner of the room with some random girl you knew by face (you weren’t that good with interacting but that was beside the point here). But that relief turned back into panic as you watched the girl unzip his leather jacket and discard it, hands moving for his shirt.

“And that is my cue to leave.” You nodded to Soonyoung who seemed to be enjoying this moment. Now you weren’t the type to meddle into your best friend’s love life (which had been non existent till now) but if the said best friend was a shy anime-lover boy with no alcohol control and was about to drunk make out with someone he had just met, you were going to be the supportive friend you were and save the little dignity he might have left after this night.

Picking his jacket up from the floor, you accidentally rammed into the couple, causing both of them to stumble in daze.

“Ah, Wonwoo! I was looking for you! Come one, we need to leave, you have a mini test tomorrow, remember?”

Wonwoo blinked at you in confusion, and you just smiled at the girl before pulling him out of the crowded place. You ignored her screaming about tomorrow being a Sunday and focused on getting the two of you safely out of a room filled with drunk people. It was hard pulling a drunk man who kept stumbling on his own leg but you finally made it out of the stuffy place without losing each other.

When the cool night air finally hit the two of you, you let go of his hand and let out a sigh.

“Thanks.” He muttered beside you, though you were not exactly sure what he was thanking you for, since you were sure he was having a blast back at the party. You glanced at him and tsked, annoyed by his choice of clothing. He was just wearing a sleeveless shirt and skinny jeans, clearly shivering in the cold night air. His hair was slightly messed up and his glasses were hanging at his nose tip.

“You shouldn’t have taken this off.” You said handing him back his jacket. He just draped it around his shoulders before giving you a lopsided drunk smile.

You wondered what all the girls would say when the drunk Wonwoo they had envisioned was nothing like the real drunk Wonwoo you knew. True, he did sensibly drink all the time, but today he seemed to have let go and judging by his flushed face, you were glad you got him out of the party before he committed a stupid mistake.

You began walking towards your dorm when Wonwoo called you.

“Y/N.”

Turning back at him, you looked at him questioningly, asking him to continue.

“Come here for a second.” But before you could walk to him, he himself stumbled towards you, looking eager to tell whatever was in his mind.

You frowned and gently pushed his glasses up so that he didn’t strain himself to see through them.

All of a sudden, Wonwoo grabbed your hand to pull you in closer, filling the few centimetres you had in between each other. Your eyes widened in shock when you felt his lips brush against yours. He immediately pressed his lips on your lips, your eyes fluttering close at the sudden feeling of warmth.

A million different thoughts were running through your head but they all seemed to be drowned out by an exploding feeling in your heart. You inhaled his scent; a mixture of alcohol and the comforting smell that always lingered around him; and felt the world stop for a second.

Wonwoo’s lips moved against yours and that seemed to jolt you back to the present.

Pushing him away as hard as you could, you gasped harshly, wondering what had you done. How could he kiss you? How could you kiss him when he was drunk?

You shook your head violently once, trying to dismiss the thought as an accidental drunk mistake, just like the one Wonwoo was going to commit a few minutes ago back at the party.

And yet, the adrenaline rushing in your veins still hadn’t subdued. You felt like you were the one who was drunk and not him, heart beating erratically at the very thought of the kiss. Fanning your heated cheeks, you dismissed the thought once more. This was a mistake. It had to be. There was no way you could feel such emotions for your best friend with whom, you had just admitted a few minutes ago, you were completely platonic with.

“Come on, Wonwoo.” You muttered, not bothering to grab his hand this time and hoping he would just follow you.

Neither of you spoke as you traced your paths back to your dorms, the silence breaking sometimes only by Wonwoo’s incoherent mutterings. You didn’t even bother looking back to check whether he was right behind you, trusting that the dragging footsteps were his.

“Mingyu!” You yelled as a familiar figure ran past you into the building. Kim Mingyu stopped and turned back at you, looking drunk but not as finished as the man who stumbled into a halt and used your shoulder as a support for his dropping head. You felt your cheeks heat up once more and then and there you decided you couldn’t go on like this even for a second. “Take your roommate up with you will you? I’m tired of dragging him around.”

Mingyu gave you a thumbs up and the two of you bid each other goodbye, and you nearly ran from there, not bothering to see if they had even entered the building. You prayed that the night air would cool your cheeks down because you were sure that your roommate was still awake, judging by the lights you could see from outside the building.

You tried sneaking in quietly, not wanting to disturb the older girl who was still studying. Final year of college was hard with assignments and campus recruitments and you didn’t want to be a burden to a person whom you had labelled as your other best friend.

“What’s wrong?” Kim Taeyeon asked, turning away from her books to look at you trying to hide under your covers as quickly as you could.

“W-What do you mean?”

“You haven’t even removed your socks yet. Did something happen?”

Oh.

“I-” You began and stopped, flustered at how you should continue. Was it his mistake? Was it yours? Taeyeon got up and sat at the foot of your bed, patiently waiting for you to continue. You felt bad that you were distracting from her studies but you felt that if you didn’t get some advice on how to handle this situation, you would lose all your precious sleep (sleep was your real best friend).

“Say hypothetically, your friend gets kissed by her drunk best friend and she kisses him back. What should your friend do in that situation? Pretend like nothing happened? Confront him about it?”

“Wonwoo kissed you?”

“Ye- No! I said a hypothetical friend. What? Wonwoo is such a reserved man. Does he look like someone who loses control while drinking? And do I look like a person who takes advantage of her drunk friend?” You said, glad of the fake character people had created of your best friend.

“So Wonwoo did kiss you. Besides, you don’t really have many friends, let alone a hypothetical one that could be in this situation.”

“Thanks for the reality check.” You muttered. Taeyeon came and sat beside you, patting you as an indicator to go on.

“He-he was drunk.” You babbled, not even sure what or whom you were trying to justify. “He just leaned in and I- I kissed him back. Oh my god. Is that assault? Did I just assault my best friend?”

“Hey calm down, Y/N. You were taken aback. I highly doubt he will even remember what happened tomorrow judging by how drunk he sounds. You don’t need to mention it to him if you feel like that’s going to ruin the atmosphere between the two of you. But if you feel like you are too uncomfortable being with him, then the two of you can talk it out. Wonwoo is a sensible man so I’m sure you both will come to an understanding.”

You nodded, still feeling jittery about the entire situation. Exchanging good nights, the two of you went back to your own routines. Taeyeon went back to her study table while you got dressed for bed. Slipping in under your sheets, you tried to clear your thoughts by taking a deep breath in.

It’s okay. You thought to yourself. He probably won’t even remember it tomorrow. Now let’s just get some good night’s sleep, shall we?

Turns out you had terrible prediction skills.

You had tossed and turned the entire night, worry eating you up as though the next day was your mathematics exam and you had forgotten to study the entirety of calculus. So you definitely did not get a good night’s sleep as you had wished for. To make matters worse, Wonwoo called you up at 5 in the morning for a ‘hangover’ run.

So here you were, sitting on a bench as your best friend jogged up to you, handing you over a drink.

“Thanks.” You huffed, taking a quick sip of the cold drink to cool yourself down. He sat down beside you, arms brushing and all of a sudden you were hyper aware of how close the two of you were.

It was funny how a small action at a drunk college party had changed the entire way you used to look at your best friend. You both had practically grown up together and it had never really mattered to you how close the two of you were (sure you had an aversion towards touch but Wonwoo was…well, Wonwoo). Never did you think you would get flustered when you meet him or even avoid his eye contact.

But this morning when you first came out of your dorm, he was already waiting for you outside. He seemed unbothered by your appearance, and a small part of you was glad because he didn’t seem to remember what had happened. And yet, it took you sometime to be able to meet his eyes again without your cheeks heating up and giving you away.

The two of you jogged for sometime in silence before you got tired and decided to take a break. He had even wordlessly gone and got you a drink and now you were getting a feeling that he definitely did not remember anything. So you decided to ask him about it.

“Did you enjoy yourself yesterday?”

“Huh?” He looked at you surprised. “You mean at the party?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t remember actually.” He replied, pushing his specs up his nose by its frame bridge. The action caused your stomach to flip, as though you had just been dropped from a roller coaster. “I guess I drank too much. Did I go too wild?”

Only when Wonwoo had raised his eyebrows at you did you realise that you had been staring at him. You quickly turned your head away from him, praying you weren’t looking as flustered as you felt.

Had he always been this handsome?

“Uh, yeah kind of? I mean…you were going to make out with some random girl if I hadn't pulled you away.”

“Thanks.” He muttered, sounding embarrassed. You looked at him and he was looking down, unable to meet your eyes. A laughter escaped you when you realised how adorable he looked, looking flustered.

Wait, what?

He looked up at you and smiled sheepishly, muttering a small sorry. Wonwoo continued talking but his voice was drowned out by the wind whistling against your ears. How had you never noticed the cute way his nose scrunched up when he smiled too much or the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed out too loud? Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realised that you had always known these little details but had never put too much thought into it, as though you had taken him for granted.

Wonwoo waved a hand in front of your face, jolting you back to the present.

“You okay?” He asked, sounding a little concerned. “You’ve been slightly distracted since morning. Are you sure nothing happened at the party?”

“Yeah.” You scratched your neck awkwardly, determined to keep a straight face and not look away. There was no way he could know what you were thinking now unless you wanted to make things awkward between the two of you.

He stood up, pulling you up with him and the touch of his warm hand on your elbow seemed to send sparks through your body. The chilly wind whipped through the air, ruffling Wonwoo’s freshly dyed white blond hair. It was almost illegal how good he looked like this, with messy hair and wearing just loose comfortable clothes.

Your reactions seemed to have slowed down because all you could do was stare and gulp at your best friend when his hands slipped into yours, giving your hand a comforting squeeze. You felt your heart beat nearly stutter at this gesture, and he pulled you in closer.

For a second you got a wild sense of deja vu, a small part of you was afraid that the two of you were going to kiss again but Wonwoo just smiled softly at you.

The whistling of the wind died in your ears as you stared at him. You couldn’t feel anything, except for the tingling sensation of where your hands and shoulders met with his. The birds too seemed to have stopped chirping because the surrounding seemed too quiet, and you were sure he could hear your loudly thumping heart too.

A stream of sunlight fell on Wonwoo, giving him a soft angelic glow. Right now, everything seemed so perfect, so perfect that you wondered why you had even thought that he was a big loser in the first place. Because for you right, Jeon Wonwoo looked like a goddamned angel who had graced you with his presence.

And then it hit you.

You felt as though your breath had been stolen away when the realisation finally dawned on you.

You were in love.

You were in love with your best friend, Jeon Wonwoo.

Suddenly everything you had been feeling made complete sense to you. How could you have not realised it until now? It was as though the answer had always been dangling in front of you but you had failed to grasp it. You thought of all the times you had spent with him and while that might seem like normal things between two best friends, you realised that no one could ever understand you so perfectly well, no one could make you smile like he did and no one ever supported you like he did when you were down. He knew you as perfectly as you knew him, like two jigsaw puzzles fitted together without which the picture would be incomplete. And right now, you couldn’t even imagine loving someone as much as you had always loved him.

It had always been Wonwoo but you had never realised it.

“You know you can tell me everything, right?” He asked, his quiet voice causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach as he gently rubbed circles on your hand with his thumb. You gulped, closing your eyes as you nodded a ‘yes’ to him. So that he didn’t suspect anything, you removed your hand from his grasp slowly, the warmth of his touch suddenly gone. You already missed his touch but you doubted whether your heart could take anymore.

Your head was still spinning from the sudden realisation that had hit you like a truck and the only way you could think of clearing your thoughts was by getting away from Wonwoo, the very person who usually stuck by your side in such stressing emotions.

But this was something you would have to deal with on your own. Because you were a thousand percent sure that he did not love you back.

“Wonwoo,” you said, looking at him with a smile. “I'm a bit tired since you called me up so early. Do you mind if I go back? It’s a Sunday and I still have assignments so I would like to catch up with my beloved sleep a bit.”

“Sure, I’m so sorry Y/N-”

“No need to apologise. Thank you for bringing out my lazy ass though.”

You were glad that he got the indication that you wanted some quiet time alone (of course he would, why wouldn’t he?) and the walk back to your dorms was a quiet one too. He didn’t press the matter anymore, figuring out you would tell him when the right time came and you were comfortable about sharing with him.

If only he knew.

As soon as you got back to your room, you plopped yourself onto your bed, not even bothering to take off your clothes. You were glad Taeyeon wasn’t there in the room currently, because you were sure you might crumble if you met any other human being, Taeyeon or Wonwoo included.

A sigh left your mouth as you processed everything that had just happened. A small accidental drunk kiss which could have potentially ruined your friendship was now actually going to ruin your friendship.

There was no way that he loved you back. Sure he loved you platonically but never ever in a romantic way. He had never dropped a single hint nor did he ever give you a second to doubt that he might have feelings for you. Hell, you were pretty sure you weren’t even his first crush.

And knowing Jeon Wonwoo, you were pretty sure he would still be unbothered if you showed up naked in front of him. If he didn’t remember what had happened yesterday, there was no way he would know that something between the two of you had changed, right?

Groaning internally, you cursed Wonwoo for kissing you and setting off explosions of emotions in your heart.

Taking a deep breath in, you calmed yourself down.

Come on, Y/N. You thought to yourself. You can solve coding problems but you can’t solve this little emotional problem? You’ve been through worse! You can do this!

Okay, step one. Avoid Jeon Wonwoo for a while.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder but you were sure that this little crush (you decided to call this dump load of love as little crush) would disappear if you avoided him like the plague. If you were away from his warmth, handsome face, not-so-funny funny jokes and his overall caring demeanour, you were sure you could beat this fluttering emotion (life was a competition and you were not going to lose). Of course, you wouldn’t be able to avoid him forever without making him suspicious so you just had to avoid the times only when the two of you would hang out, instead of with the group.

Step two. Research on the type of girls Wonwoo might like and avoid those characteristics.

You whipped out your phone to go through your gallery, hoping to find some hint about the type of girls he hung out with, even if it was a five minute interaction. You had a whole gallery dedicated to him because the amount of blackmail material you had collected on him was completely worth it. Scrolling through some of the pictures you had secretly taken of him (all for blackmail purposes), you felt a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

He looked so adorable, his then shaggy hair falling partly over his eyes, but nothing could stop the sparkle in them as he smiled at the new kitten he had just rescued. He looked ethereal, causing your heart to flutter at the memory of him smiling at you as you snapped a quick photo to commemorate the occasion of him getting his hundredth cat.

Wait, what?

That wasn't part of the plan. You weren’t supposed to fall for him harder, you were supposed to see the kind of girl he likes and maybe laugh at some of the troll pictures you had taken of him. You did laugh at some of them, but now, instead of them being downright funny you could feel a warm sensation of adoration as you laughed.

“Fuck you, Jeon Wonwoo.” You muttered, throwing your phone across the bed and screwing your eyes shut in defeat. That’s it. You were down bad for him.

“Yeah, I was kind of waiting for that to happen.”

You sat up straight faster than the time Taeyeon said your results were posted right in front of the campus. Immediately, you scowled at the newcomer who took this as an invitation to stride into your room, closing the door behind him as he dropped on your bed beside you.

“How did you even get inside the girl’s dormitory?”

“I didn’t see you in the mess so I asked Taeyeon about it. She said you were probably bawling your eyes out about something in your room and she herself gave me a pass to enter the dorm.” Kwon Soonyoung explained himself and you rolled your eyes. “So spill the tea sis. Why do you want to fuck Jeon Wonwoo that badly even though we kind of knew it was going to happen eventually?”

“Why won’t you tell us?” Soonyoung wailed, shaking you aggressively. You rolled your eyes at his dramatic behaviour, partially embarrassed as some students passing by looked at your group curiously. You wondered if this was the right time to pretend that you didn’t know either of them.

“First of all, I did not agree to tell you anything. You just assumed it on your own. Second of all, there’s no way I’m telling you, Seungkwan and Chan.”

You had been suspicious when Soonyoung said he would round up his emotional support buddies but you did not expect it to be Seungkwan and Chan, definitely some of the biggest anti-secret keepers. Hell, you might have even considered telling them if at least Seokmin was there.

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, grabbing his iced americano and standing up. “It was kind of obvious she wouldn’t tell all of us, Soonyoung. At least you could have heard the secret and told us behind her back.”

“I’m still here Seungkwan.”

“Your point?”

“Come on, Y/N.” Chan urged, his expression that of a genuine friend who was ready to listen to you. “If something is weighing you down, you can always tell us. I promise you that I’ll tape up Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s mouths so that they don’t spread it.”

“Yeah, we promise too.” Seungkwan said, Soonyoung agreeing beside him. You sighed for the millionth time that day, debating whether or not you should risk telling them. You really needed some advice on this matter, especially from someone who knew both you and Wonwoo well. But before you could even open your mouth to speak, Soonyoung cut you off.

“Do you have a crush on Wonwoo?”

Your silence seemed to be enough for them.

“Wait, that is the problem? I’m sorry, but did you just realise it now?” Seungkwan asked. “I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at him. I thought you had it figured out a long time ago but you were just keeping quiet about it.”

“I-I just realised it yesterday! And it's all his fault! He drunk kissed me-”

“Wait, wait, wait. He did what?” Soonyoung jumped up excitedly, as though he was the one who had been kissed by Wonwoo. “He kissed you? Wonwoo fucking kissed you? The Jeon Wonwoo I know?”

“Relax, Soonyoung. It’s not like they had sex or something.”

“Seungkwan!”

“Do you want to ignore your feelings because you are worried that this might ruin your friendship with him?” Chan asked, currently being the only logical one in the group. “Or do you want to take this a step higher but you don’t know if he likes you back?

“I don’t know. I…don’t want to ruin our friendship. I don’t want to ruin anything between us. Wonwoo doesn’t even like me that way, it’s obvious.” You said nervously, not even sure what you wanted. “But now that you say it, the first option looks more appealing.”

“Hey, don’t be like that.” Soonyoung swatted your arm. “Because I’m a thousand percent sure that even Wonwoo likes you. I’ve never seen him look so whipped for anyone who isn’t you. Not even at anime girls.”

“And we all know your inference skills are god tier judging from the last mafia game where you kicked out doctor Mingyu just because you were a thousand percent sure mafia Seokmin was a citizen.” Seungkwan reminded him.

“Yeah, you are really bad at this Soonyoung.” You muttered in agreement, but your mind was occupied by what he had said. Wonwoo looked whipped for you?

“Not to disagree with Seungkwan but I think Soonyoung might be right? I’ve honestly never seen Wonwoo be more comfortable with anyone other than you.”

You looked around your surroundings, the bench and tree you four were sitting under resembling the one you and Wonwoo had sat on just this morning. You replayed the entire scene in your head once more. What would have happened if you hadn’t realised that you were in love with your best friend? Would everything have been normal between the two of you? Would the drunk kiss just turn into a laughable memory for the two of you to share later on?

Thinking back reminded you of how comfortable the two of you were together, the main reason you were in love with him. Then you stood up, making up your mind.

“I’m not going to chase him.” You said firmly, giving a bitter smile to the three boys around you. “I can’t afford to lose him or even make him feel uncomfortable. Thank you for listening to me and bearing my secret. I guess you guys will have to become my emotional support buddies too.”

“Y/N, we can probably think of some way-”

“Maybe stalk Wonwoo and find out if he likes you-”

“Or just take slow steps and-”

The three of them burst into suggestions, causing your heart to clench. You were glad you had such wonderful caring friends, how much ever annoying or sarcastic they were at times. You waved them a final goodbye.

“I’m fine, really. I’ll keep you guys updated. Thanks for your time but I need to sort out my feelings for now.”

You ignored their protests and walked back to your dorm, the heavy weight burdening you caused your shoulder to slump more with each and every step. If you thought yesterday night had been a whirlwind of emotions then today had been a tsunami. Not only had you realised you were in love with your best friend of many years for the longest of times but you had almost immediately doused that fire in your heart in order to not ruin your friendship with him. Taking two such big decisions in a span of a few hours was enough to melt anyone and you felt like a ticking time bomb that could explode any moment now if you didn’t get some proper rest.

Finally, you reached the corridor of your dorm and froze, a familiar figure standing on your door with a huge packet in his hand.

Jeon Wonwoo raised his hand to knock on your door when he just happened to turn his head in your direction, blocking any chance of escape now. He immediately broke into a smile, face lighting up as though he was waiting for you. It definitely did nothing to stop your heart from stuttering or to stop the smile that automatically appeared on your lips.

All of a sudden you realised what you were doing, and cleared your throat awkwardly. This definitely wasn’t a way to stop your crush on him.

“Hey Wonwoo.” You said softly, unlocking your door and beckoning him inside.

“Hey, how are you feeling? You weren’t at the breakfast table so I kind of got worried and bought you some of your favourite food.” You didn’t know how warm Wonwoo could make you feel with his small gestures until now and you were glad that you had just sat down on your bed because you were sure your jellied knees were about to give away.

Wonwoo followed suit but only after pulling the small coffee table towards your bed and placing the packet on it. You could feel his body heat despite the two layers of clothes between your skins. The familiar smell of his softener comforted you and you turned your attention onto the food, hoping it would act as a distraction from the fact that Wonwoo was just a few centimetres apart from you.

“So what did you get me?” You asked, rubbing your hands as the aroma drifted to you.

“Your favourite of course. Sushi.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “But sushi is your favourite though?”

“What are you talking about, Y/N? I thought we both liked it?” Rolling your eyes at his grinning face, you unpacked the packet yourself. The smell of the sandwich hit you before you had even taken it out. Wonwoo had bought you egg sandwiches and your favourite yoghurt. Only after you had taken a bite did you realise how hungry you were after all that thinking and skipping breakfast.

“So,” Wonwoo said after finishing his sandwich and picking up a yoghurt. “Are Soonyoung and Seungkwan bullying you?”

You choked on your food as laughter escaped you. “W-What?” You laughed, looking at him and Wonwoo was smiling at you too. “Don’t worry, they aren’t that mean to me.”

“Good to know. In case they try to rope you into their illegal cult, let me know. I’ll get you out of there.”

“Sure, after all, you are my knight in shining armour.” The words were out of your mouth before you could even control yourself. You thought you saw Wonwoo’s smile falter for a fraction of second, but his eyes still had the same expression so you ignored it, thinking maybe it was just your imagination.

“It’s good to see you laugh. You looked so tense in the morning.”

“I did? I guess I was still reeling from the aftermath of a drunk Wonwoo.” Which…wasn’t a lie technically. He leaned back on your bed, grinning at you with all his teeth on display. Was it that amusing? “Don’t do that ever again. It could have been a disaster.” (It already had, in your opinion)

“Tell me about the random girl I was going to make out with.”

“What?” The question had taken you aback as that was the least expected one from him. The Wonwoo you knew wouldn’t have wanted to delve into the details of what he would consider an embarrassing course of action. He wasn’t even sounding concerned or worried right now. If anything, he seemed interested.

“The girl I was going to make out with. Do you know her? Was she cute?”

And you felt a bubble of annoyance burst at the pit of your stomach. Why was he asking you that? And why was he so interested in her all of a sudden?

Amidst the thousand questions popping up in your mind, you were slightly aware that right now you were probably feeling a bit jealous. Never had you thought you would get jealous if Wonwoo had a girlfriend but seeing him so interested in someone when he had never even looked at you as someone he might consider as his date, even for prom back in high school was making you feel jealous.

“Why?” You asked cautiously, careful not to show your annoyance in your tone. Apparently jealousy was another feeling you would have to check now, whenever you were with him.

“Simply. I vaguely remember her being cute so I wanted to get to know her more. To see if she's my type.”

“Well then why don’t you ask some of the guys for her number? Joshua might know.” You said, clearly annoyed now. Standing up, you began picking up your empty cups and wrappers. “Sorry I interrupted you two then. You could have found a potential girlfriend but I ruined your chance for you to sleep with someone.”

Now you were sounding just plain bitter. Walking towards the trash can, you took a deep breath in, trying to calm yourself down. You cannot get jealous now. Especially not when you had literally just found out your feelings a few hours ago. How much ever it hurt listening to your best friend ramble about some hot girl he wished to have more than a hookup with, you had to pretend to be the supporting best friend and not get in his way.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo’s voice came from behind, laced with worry. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

Yeah, you made me realise I have feelings for you which isn’t technically something wrong ‘you’ did.

“No it’s just that,” you turned towards him and forced a smile on your face. He looked so worried that you cursed yourself for getting your jealousy on the way and nearly hurting him. “I feel like you're not appreciating me enough for all the hard work I did yesterday night.”

“I bought you breakfast?”

“I knew there was something suspicious when you said you were worried I didn’t have breakfast.”

“Don’t make me such a bad best friend.” He said with an exaggerated sadness but you were more fixated on the last few words he had said.

There you go. Best friend. That’s what he would always see you as and that’s what the two of you would always be. Never anything more than that and never crossing the thin line between friendship and love.

But still that didn’t stop you from accepting his hug. His warmth engulfed you as his familiar scent took over your senses. It was so comforting that you almost melted in his embrace, his touch giving you comfort for the first time in the day although he was the one who had caused you the distress.

It reminded you of the million times you had hugged before this. Sometimes it was because of happiness and sometimes it was to provide comfort to each other. Jeon Wonwoo had been your saving grace, the anchor to your ship in the vast ocean of challenges and hardships just like how you had been his. You couldn’t think of any future without Wonwoo, it seemed to be impossible to have come so far without him as your best friend.

You loved him so much that even thinking about it made your heart clench painfully. How could you not? He was everything you could have ever wanted for and with this thought you hugged him back tightly, as though never wanting to let go.

“Don’t worry.” You whispered back. “You’ll always be my best friend.”

You walked into the lecture hall fashionably late on purpose (but still before the professor, you were not going to taint your record though you had already prepared an excuse about Monday mornings being tough), hoping that all the good seats would be taken and you wouldn't have to sit beside Wonwoo.

But as your best friend was faithful and loyal to you, he had saved you a seat right beside him.

“Here, Y/N!” He patted at the seat beside him when you pretended that you didn’t see him and was going to go past him. Giving him a smile as a thank you, you sat down beside him and unpacked your things, wondering how come you never noticed how good Wonwoo looked in casuals.

The class went by faster than you had expected and very soon the professor was giving the project details for your first semester.

“It will be in groups of two and you are free to make your own groups. Just give me a list of your group names by the end of the day please.”

There were collective groans from everyone and even your mind was in a whirlwind. Two people meant that by default you and Wonwoo would be a group together. But that would also mean you would have to spend extra time with him, and that would thaw your plans of avoiding him.

So before Wonwoo could ask you whether he should write the two of your names and submit or you would, you turned back and grabbed Seungcheol’s hand.

“Seungcheol!” You beamed at him, your smile a little bit too bright (you could see even he was terrified by this sudden outburst but you ignored it.) You knew he and Jeonghan would probably pair up together but this was your safest bet of finding a person who would agree to be your partner since the four of you were already close friends. In that way, you wouldn't completely be leaving Wonwoo in the dark since he could pair up with Jeonghan. “Do you have a partner yet?”

“Er, not yet? But me and-”

“That’s great. Then you can be my partner!”

Silence followed as the three men stared at you. Somehow, you felt Wonwoo’s shocked and probably betrayed expression so you didn’t dare to turn towards him but kept your eyes on Seungcheol. He and Jeonghan looked confused at this but neither of them seemed to want to ask you about it either.

“Uh, okay? If that’s what you want. Then I guess Jeonghan and Wonwoo can be teammates.”

“Okay, students!” The professor’s voice boomed and the four of you turned your attention back to him. You could feel Wonwoo’s eyes still on you as though waiting for an explanation but you ignored him. A small part of you was a little sad as you had done pretty much every project with your best friend and the two of you always had a mutual understanding of things which made it easier to finish them but you were still glad that you wouldn’t have to see him much in this way. Once your feelings were completely gone (if they were), you would then apologise to him and hang out with him just like the good old days. “Since some of you complained that two people is too less for the project, I’ve decided to change it to four.”

Oh no. Oh no.

It was as though the universe was determined to foil each and every single of your plan to avoid Wonwoo and make you suffer. Why did he have to change it like that? Hell, when all of you had complained about the individual power point being too hard and begged him to change it to a group assignment he had just lectured you all for being terribly irresponsible students. So why now? You were even willing to listen to your professor ramble for an hour about the need and requirement of responsible citizens for the society if that meant not pairing up with the cute guy sitting beside you.

“Y/N.” You heard Jeonghan call you out and you turned slowly to the three of them. “Let’s four pair up together, okay?”

You nodded, laughing awkwardly at the turn of events. So much for avoiding Jeon Wonwoo.

Wonwoo opened his mouth to speak but right at that time you heard the professor say ‘class dismissed’. Yelling a ‘later’ at him, you picked your things up and darted out of the room, not even bothering to dump your things in your bag.

You tried running out of the classroom but people seemed to think it was fine to chat and take their own sweet time, blocking the entrance.

“Um, excuse me. I need to get-”

“Y/N, wait up!” You heard the familiar voice yell at you. “You forgot your computer textbook!”

Now that made you stop. Why did you forget it? Slowly, you turned back towards Wonwoo, a sheepish smile plastered on your face. He smiled at you, as though unbothered by the fact he had practically run away from him.

“Thanks, sorry I left it behind.” You said, noticing that even he didn’t have the chance to put his things in his bag and was carrying them in his hands.

“Crowd not letting you go?” He asked, eyes scanning the crowd before they landed back on you. He let out a sigh and pushed his specs back again, you now finding the action very endearing. He held out his books to you, making you look at him in confusion.

“Hold these.” He said, dumping them in your arms.

Then before you could ask what’s wrong, Wonwoo got down on his knees and reached out for your now untied shoelaces. You felt heat creep up your neck as he continued tying your lace, unbothered by the fact that almost everyone was now staring at the two of you. But that was who Wonwoo was, wasn’t he? He never let others' comments or views affect him much and you had always admired him for that.

Jeonghan let out a wolf whistle when he was done and stood up, taking his books from your hands. “Shall we go?” He asked, casually stirring you away from the crowd (but that didn’t stop you from giving a death glare to a smug Jeonghan and a now giggling Seungcheol).

Wonwoo helped you push through the crowd, which wasn’t much considering the fact everyone had parted to make a way for you two as though you were a couple walking on the red carpet. You could still feel your ears burning and as soon as the two of you turned towards a less filled hallway, you gave him a slight push.

“What was that?” You demanded, not sure whether or not you should be mad at him. It wasn’t that he had never tied your shoelaces for you before; he had and had even scolded you for being so careless. But him doing it now in front of everyone made it feel somehow different. It felt like something a boyfriend would do, not a best friend.

Wonwoo raised his eyebrows at you before speaking .”You are the one to talk. First you avoid me in the class when you always sit beside me. Then after that you all of a sudden want to pair up with Seungcheol? I get it I’m weak at coding but still-”

“It’s not because of that.” You blurted out, then cursed yourself mentally. How were you supposed to explain this to him? You should have known from the beginning that your plan would be foiled because Wonwoo was too observant for his own good.

“Then what is it? What is making you avoid me? Did I say something to you at the party? Did I do something wrong? Because if I did, I’m sorry. I really am. But unless you tell me, I won’t know what it is and I can’t even apologise or make amends to you properly!” He snapped, clearly done with your behaviour. You felt that there was a hint of panic laced in his voice, but maybe it was just your desperate imagination hoping he wasn’t that hurt.

But why wouldn’t he be? He had all the right to. Hell, if you had been in his place you too would have been mad at this unexplainable behaviour.

“I’m sorry Wonwoo.” You muttered, looking at your feet. “I just- I just don’t know where to start. Something happened and it’s overwhelmingly a lot to take in to be honest. Believe me, it’s killing me not being able to tell you too but I just can’t. Not until I’m sure. Not until I’m ready. Please believe me.” You were practically whispering by now, the tears threatening to spill out. Either way it was still your fault if your friendship got ruined.

You felt his strong hands grip your shoulder gently, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey.” He said softly, causing you to look up at him. Wonwoo was looking at you concerned and yet so lovingly as though he would always be by your side no matter what. You felt your knees go weak as your heart gave another painful squeeze, reminding you why the two of you were in this sudden sticky situation. “It’s okay, alright? I just…don’t know how to fix this if I don’t even know what’s the problem. But it’s okay. You don’t need to force yourself. I’ll just…I’ll just try to remember or ask someone what I did-”

“You didn’t do anything-”

“No.” He said firmly. “I know I did something. That’s the only explanation to this, Y/N. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.” Now he sounded miserable and helpless. You could see that he was blaming himself for whatever was happening between the two of you right now. You could see he was worried about you and what he might have done.

And it hurt you seeing him like this.

This was all your fault. You shouldn’t have thought of avoiding him. For your selfish feelings to disappear, you had nearly ended up hurting Wonwoo more. How could you even think of such a stupid idea in the first place? There was no way the two of you could be separated.

Then as though by impulse, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. His comforting body heat engulfed you once more, making you almost crave for more of his touch. The fact that you hated hugs unless they were from Jeon Wonwoo lingered in the back of your mind but all logical reasoning was lost when he hugged you back.

You felt safe, and as pathetic it sounded, you felt content and loved. As though this simple hug was more than enough for you and you didn’t need to be labelled as a couple. It felt dumb now, thinking how you thought you could even survive by avoiding Wonwoo.

“Oh, Woo.” You whispered, using the nickname you had picked a long time ago for him. “Please don’t beat yourself up for this. I won’t stop you from finding out on your own. But I don’t think I can tell you about it now. “

He gently patted your back and you closed your eyes, enjoying the moment as you felt yourself relax at his touch. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me now.”

The two of you stood like that for quite some time, just enjoying each other’s presence. You were sure he could feel your heart hammering but neither of you seemed to want to let go.

“Just promise me one thing.” Wonwoo broke the silence first, and you hummed, urging him to continue. “You won’t ever choose Seungcheol over me as your partner just because I’m bad at coding.”

“Hmmm.” You pretended to think, breaking away from his grasp. “But I might consider choosing Jeonghan though.”

“Good luck with your new best friend then I guess.”

“Wonwoo come back! I’m just kidding!”

“Hey, you okay?”

Seulgi’s voice snapped you back to the present, making you realise that pretty much everyone (five to be specific) were staring at you.

“Uh, yeah.” You cleared your throat and sat up straighter, wondering if you had missed any question. “Sorry. Just a little…tired.”

Taeyeon’s eyes flicked to yours and an unspoken understanding took place between the two of you. You were so glad that you had such a mature roommate who always took care of you.

Usually, you loved attending your club meetings. After a long day of studying it seemed the most relaxing way to unwind without locking up yourself in your room. Your clubmates were fun and great friends (making it more like an open-discussion-for-all-your-troubles club). But today, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t concentrate on today's debate session of three eyes versus three legs.

The Science club, or as known to the world as the Science Fan Club, had been opened by Kim Kibum, when he got into an argument with the real Science Club president, Kim Jungwoo and got kicked out of the Club with a ban for life sticker on his hand. And he, being a young man full of burning passion (and petty spiteful revenge) decided to start a science club of his own.

And like any other great (self-proclaimed) leader, Kibum too had faced many tough challenges on his way. For starters, there could not be two clubs with the same name so he had to get a little creative. And secondly, no one was willing to join this club so at the end he practically had to beg (read black mail) some of you to join.

So now there were just the six of you in the club, but somehow that made this club of yours more endearing. Kang Seulgi, Kim Taeyeon, Lee Taemin, Kim Kibum and lastly Boo Seungkwan was definitely saved under the favourites list in your contacts (Except Taemin because he had been saved under the ‘never call unless absolute emergency’ list).

Kibum let out the most dramatic sigh ever as though he was the one facing the crisis of being in love with his best friend and not you. “Y/N, you know you can tell us everything right?”

That definitely increased your confidence because Kim Kibum and Boo Seungkwan were notoriously not called the ‘gossiping besties’. It wasn’t a secret that if either of the two (and if your luck was bad maybe even both) got hold of your secret, you could pretty much expect it to be printed in the next day’s newspaper for it to be announced to the entire world. The only way to escape this was by bribing them, which was basically just agreeing that whatever they did or said was right (as though either of them even needed anymore ego boost).

“Yeah Y/N.” Seungkwan leaned in close, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You can tell us everything, you know.” As though he didn’t know it.

Internally, you were strangling Soonyoung (and cursing yourself) for even thinking of bringing Seungkwan for your emotional support.

“Nothing. I’m fine!” You gushed, looking at Taeyeon for support.

“Hey Y/N. Your boyfriend’s here.” Taemin cut either of you off and you whipped towards the door, only to see your best friend standing there casually, leaning against the door frame. When your eyes met his, he smiled and waved at you, causing your cheeks to heat up.

You immediately looked away, standing up and packing your things as an excuse so that no one saw how flustered you were by a simple gesture.

“Er, I’ll get going.” You muttered, once again running out of the room, but this time instead of running away from Wonwoo you were running towards him.

“Enjoy your date!” Seungkwan yelled after you and you shut the door with a loud bang, hoping the noise would drown him out.

Note to self: search up how to hide your friend’s dead body.

“Hey Woo.” You said, slightly breathless as the two of you began walking towards the dorms. “Did you have something to tell me?” Wonwoo had never come to pick you up from your clubs so to say you were confused would be an understatement.

“Yeah, kind of? I have something to give you rather.” He said, stirring you away from the path that led to the dorms and instead walking towards where all the canteens were. “Do you want to have pizza with me?”

“Did Seokmin give you his extra ‘regular customer’ discount coupons?”

Wonwoo laughed, shaking his head in a no. “He wouldn’t give them to anyone even if the world was ending.”

“That’s true. You are treating me right?”

“I bought you sandwiches and yoghourt yesterday.”

“I think I’ll just have dinner in the mess.”

“Fine.” He raised his hand in defeat, still smiling. “Do you want to eat at Pizza Hut or at my dorm?”

You thought about it for sometime and realising how tired you were, you decided to have it in his dorm instead (your plan of avoiding him was practically forgotten by now).

Fifteen minutes later, the two of you were huddled on his bed slouching over the coffee table, as you dug into the pizzas you had ordered. For a few minutes neither of you talked, finishing the first pizza in a record breaking time (you were a slow eater) until you opened the second box.

“God, what is this?” You asked, picking up completely green pizza. It looked like an overgrown shrub had been smashed and dumped on your pizza. Wonwoo shrugged beside you, taking a slice out of his own chicken pizza.

“You ordered it. Not me.”

“But why is the pesto sauce so green? And why is it dripping over like that?”

Wonwoo laughed at you before taking out a few napkins. Taking the slice from your hand, he placed it on the napkin and gently placed it back on your hand. He then placed more napkins on your lap. “Don’t spill on the floor, please. It’s a hassle to clean up.”

You looked at him curiously.

“What? Don’t tell me you want me to feed you too?” He joked but that made you even more curious.

“Will you, if I asked you to?” You teased, waiting for him to give his usual nonchalant look.

“Yes.” Wonwoo said without missing a beat, causing you to freeze halfway as the pizza was about to enter your mouth. You cleared your throat awkwardly but he remained unbothered and went back to eating his pizza.

Of course he would say yes. You thought to yourself. Friends can feed each other. Especially since we’ve known each other since we were toddlers. Cursing yourself for finding double meanings of his words, you cleared your throat.

“Hey Woo?”

“Hmm?”

“What would you do if I kissed you?”

This time, Wonwoo froze before turning to you, panic very much evident in his eyes.

“What?” He asked, his voice sounding higher than usual.

“Accidently of course.” You added hastily, worried that he might misunderstand the situation. “Like, like by mistake? What would you do then? Like would you kiss me back because of the heat of the moment-”

“Y/N.” Wonwoo interrupted you, setting his pizza down. He was looking at you bewildered and you could feel the familiar heat rising up your cheeks once more .”Where is this coming from?”

“Nowhere!” You squeaked, keeping your eyes on your pizza so that you didn’t give away anything. “I just recently read a best friends to lovers fanfiction and something like that happened, so I just wanted to know what would have been your reaction.”

Wonwoo seemed to have bought your lie because his expression changed to a frown, as though thinking hard about it.

“Well…” he began cautiously, as though this was a sensitive topic he was treading on (which it was). “If the best friend liked the person who kissed them, then I guess they would kiss them back? Or maybe, maybe not because they might be thinking of how this was just taking advantage of them. Though if the first person kissed them, even if accidentally, wouldn’t that mean they too like them?”

“I guess…” You said, uncertain whether this meant he liked you or not. Damn Jeon Wonwoo for not dropping clearer hints. You thought of what Soonyoung, Seungkwan and Dino had said. Could it be true? “But Wonwoo, I asked what would you do?”

Never did you think you would see your best friend blush but here he was, ears turning slightly red at your question. Had you stepped out of the line too much?

“Me?” He mumbled, taking a big bite of the last pizza slice as though he was trying to avoid your question. Then, he looked up straight into your eyes before answering, causing your stomach to give a lurch. “I think I’ll do whatever happens at the spur of the moment. But I don’t think I will ever kiss you back for too long.”

Even though he had already mentioned that he wouldn’t want to take advantage of you, hearing that he wouldn’t kiss you coming out his mouth still hurt you. Nonetheless you nodded and smiled at him as though agreeing with his thoughts and turned your concentration back to the pizza. It felt awfully soggy in your mouth now and even the warm food wasn’t enough to make you forget the tight, suffocating, squeezing pain in your heart.

Silence engulfed the two of you once again until Wonwoo interrupted it.

“Hey.” He said, causing you to look at him. His hand gently cupped your chin, swiping his thumb at the corner of your lip to get the pesto sauce off. Your stomach somersaulted at the action and when his eyes met yours, the two of you froze.

You could feel your cheeks warming up, almost the temperature of his hand as Wonwoo stared at you, mouth opening and closing at a loss for words. He too turned the slightest shade of red, both of you mirroring each other’s flusteredness. He quickly jerked his hand away from you, rapidly wiping them on the napkin as he cleared his throat awkwardly. You were sure that he could your heart beating rapidly, threatening to jump off your chest.

What was wrong with you today? What was wrong with him today? Why did he have to do those small gestures and make you feel like a mess in front of him? He had already ruined your plan of staying away from him and now he was going to even ruin your facade.

Quickly drinking your glass of water to calm yourself down, you stood up and dusted your hands, indicating you were done.

“Er, let me help you clean up.” You pointed, and he nodded, distracted and unable to meet your eyes.

For some reason, seeing the usually emotionless Jeon Wonwoo look so flustered made you crack up a bit.

Ha! Serves you right for roping me into this wild goose chase for your heart!

You let out a giggle, and he looked up at you confused. “What is it?”

“Nothing. That beanie looks ugly on you.” You lied. Wonwoo faked a dumbfounded look at you and you sniggered once more, moving towards his bathroom to wash your hands. But once you entered, you felt a sigh of frustration leave you as you took in your surroundings. His laundry pile had grown so much that you were amazed he even was wearing clothes right now.

“Wonwoo.” You said, coming out of the bathroom. He was busy setting up his xbox and just nodded at you to go on. “Why is your laundry bag on the verge of exploding?”

“I’ll wash them later.” He said, his attention on the game he was playing.

“Then I won’t hang out with you anymore. You know I hate smelly guys.” You joked and this turned his attention back to you. He threw the controller back on the bed and walked up to you.

Whenever the movies showed the scenes of the guy walking up to the girl and pinning her against the wall, you couldn’t understand what made it so romantic. For you, it was just borderline scary to see a person advance on someone else like that.

But as Wonwoo walked up to you with that stupid grin on his face, you realised what those movies might have hinted at finally. Your stomach felt like you had just been dropped from a rollercoaster and you quickly backed against the wall. But that didn’t stop him and it made you wonder when the hell had your best friend become this hot.

You backed against the wall, until your back hit the wall. Wonwoo didn't stop until his body was pressed against yours, face inches away.

His messy hair fell over his eyes, but it wasn't enough to cover the mischievous glint in them. His long sharp nose nearly brushed against yours as he stared softly at you, causing your stomach to do flip flops. It was the first time you had noticed how soft and inviting his lips were. Wonwoo still smelled the same comforting smell, and you could swear you would have melted then and there if it wasn't for the growing heat in your cheeks keeping you rooted to reality.

"What was that?" He said, his voice almost a low rough whisper which shot shivers down your spine. Any chance of escaping was lost when he placed two muscular arms on either side of you. If you weren't sure if he could hear your abnormally loud heartbeat, you were now sure that he could definitely feel it because of how close you two were. "You don't want to hang out with me?"

There was faux sadness in his voice, indicating that he was only playing around with you and you would have laughed if you weren't trapped between his arms.

"Yeah." You muttered, trying to look anywhere except his eyes. You felt like your legs might give away from the intensity of his stare. "Not only do you have poor choices of clothing like that ugly beanie but you are also smelly."

Then before you could add on, Wonwoo pulled you into a lung crush hug.

"Yeah! Let's be smelly together!" He yelled as you tried wrestling away from him.

"Jeon Wonwoo! Let me go"

You tried your hardest but finally gave up, allowing him to collapse onto the bed, pulling you with him. You let yourself melt in his embrace as you took in his scent again, the safe feeling of his strong arms around you making you feel like you were on cloud nine.

"Stay like this for a while?" He whispered and you found yourself nodding, unable to let him or the moment go either.

So this was what it felt like to be in love.

“I was waiting for you.”

The voice stopped you on your tracks and you turned to see the one and only Lee Taemin, leaning against the huge door frames of the canteen. You were already running late due to your extra study session in the library and seeing Taemin first thing in the morning definitely wasn’t a good omen.

“What do you want?” You asked nonchalantly, eyes searching the canteen for your friends instead.

“Nothing. So yesterday I was observing you and Wonwoo.”

“You were stalking us?”

“No! It's because of the shoelace incident, okay?” You internally groaned, making a mental note to slap Wonwoo once more. “Anyways I caught you guys hugging-”

“So you were stalking us.”

“Please dont report me to the police. My career is on the line.” Taemin begged you, about to get on his knees. You rolled your eyes at his dramatic antics. This is why they said choosing your companions was very important because you had no doubt that he had learnt all of this from Kibum.

“Anyways, have you ever got the feeling that you’ve got Wonwoo wrapped around your fingers?”

“Excuse me, what?” To say you this hadn’t piqued your would be a lie, this was the second time you were hearing this. Could it be that he actually liked you too? But then again, Wonwoo was an extremely loyal friend so of course he did everything and anything for you.

“Yeah. He’s like…totally in love with you. He always looks like a simp whenever he’s around you.”

“Um…” maybe calling Wonwoo a simp was a bit too much because you had spent years with him and he did not react towards you the way he usually did when he simped for someone. “Yeah, thanks for the information. I’ll keep it in mind.” You gave him a smile and then muttered underneath your breath. “You are worse than Soonyoung.”

“Hey I heard that!”

You ignored him and walked towards the table where food was being served. Filling your platter, you finally located your friends and went to sit with them. Wonwoo had already saved a seat for you beside him and you placed your plate on the table before sitting down on the cold steel bench.

“Hi, Y/N.” Joshua, who was sitting opposite to you, greeted you. You smiled at him before turning towards Wonwoo.

“They ran out of yoghurt.” You complained to him, to which he placed an unopened pot on your plate.

“You said you would take a detour to the library today so I knew you would be late and miss out on this.” He said, when you gave him a surprised look.

Before you could thank him, Mingyu cut you off. “What about me? I told you I would be late too but you didn’t save any sausages for me!”

“You said you were going to be late because you were planning on sleeping in. How is that the same thing?”

That didn’t stop from Mingyu pouting and you let out a laugh. Somehow, Mingyu’s misery always seemed to be your joy like some sort of sadistic person but luckily the latter didn’t mind at all. He just smiled back at you, equally enjoying.

“Hey Wonwoo, can you try not to be so obvious in front of us?” Seungkwan said, pretending to puke over his food. You turned to look at the male beside you but he was already staring at his food so you turned to Seungkwan instead.

“Obvious about what?”

“Nothing. He was just staring at…someone.” Jeonghan snickered, causing you to raise an eyebrow. You once again turned your attention back to Wonwoo and when he refused to look at you, you nudged him.

“Are you staring at the girl?”

Now he looked up at you confused, as did everyone else at the table.

“Which girl?” Joshua asked, looking a bit too excited for your comfort.

“Er, that girl Wonwoo was about to make out with? Soonyoung saw them too. Are you talking about her?”

Silence filled your table which wasn’t something you had expected. You thought the guys would have been excited that Wonwoo was finally interested in someone but instead they were looking at him in confusion.

“Uh, no. I, uh, decided she wasn’t my type.” Wonwoo said and you nodded, a small part of you feeling relieved. “By the way, um, is everyone coming to tonight’s fest?”

A collective ‘yeah’s and ‘of course’s went across the table and you nodded too. Your college fest was something everyone had told you to look forward to from the very beginning of the year and you were excited to see what it was about. Luckily for you, first years didn’t have to do anything and could just enjoy the festival. You were especially looking for the fireworks display at the end of the festival, which the chemical engineering and art students were in charge of (you were not sure what the chemical engineering kids even did to help in this but you were a computer engineer major who avoided chemistry whenever you could and just accepted whatever you were told).

“I heard,” Jeonghan said all of a sudden leaning towards the table, “that you need a date to be able to watch the show?”

“Don’t spew nonsense, Yoon- Ow!” Seungcheol was cut off by Jeonghan very evidently kicking him underneath the table, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

“Where did you hear that from?” You asked and he blinked at you innocently. The whole table looked interested in this brand new piece of information.

“Didn’t you see the event name? It’s ‘sparks in your heart’. A senior told me that only those who actually understood would be allowed front row seats.”

Now you didn’t have an argument about that. Was it true then?

If you had been told any other time that you needed a partner, you would have chosen Wonwoo in a blink. But now you weren’t sure if you could do that, since he was so interested in that girl. It stung your heart but you knew that if you asked first he wouldn’t refuse and you didn’t want to force him.

“Then I guess I need to leave to find a partner.” You said standing up with your now empty tray. Wonwoo didn’t even try to stop you and you pushed back the sadness lapping at the corners of your heart. No need to be upset over such a small thing.

“Y/N, do you want to go with me-” Wonwoo began but you cut him off with a smile. Knowing him, he would probably put your feelings above his and you did not want to be that friend who got jealous over best friends relationships, no matter how much you liked him.

“It’s fine Woo. You should go out with her. This looks like the perfect opportunity.” Saying that, you bid everyone goodbye and walked out of the canteen, trying to focus on how exciting today’s events were going to be. It wasn’t like he was going to hang out with her all the time right? Just the fireworks event would be enough, right?

You giggled at the thought of Wonwoo trying to ask someone out and wondered what would be her reaction. There was no way she would refuse him, right?

After all, in your eyes Wonwoo was perfect (and judging by the number of girls in his fan club, others agreed with you too. In fact, you realised bitterly, they had seen the boyfriend-material potential in him before you did.) He was sweet, handsome, tall, smart and a bit awkward at times which made him more endearing. But maybe it was because he was your best friend, or maybe it was because you were totally whipped for him that you found him so perfect. Even his flaws were perfections for you. Whatever the reason was, you knew the painful truth that no one could possibly take the place of Wonwoo in your heart.

And maybe, maybe a small part of you wished she would turn him down.

“How does this look on us?” Seungkwan and Chan asked, as they picked up matching couple masks, causing Soonyoung, Seokmin and you to snort with laughter. You were hanging out with the four of them (Seokmin had been pulled into your group of ‘emotional support’ after Seungkwan and Soonyoung complained that their trio booseoksoon was incomplete with only boo and soon so eventually he was even let into your secret).

The whole evening had been a blast for you, hanging out with the most chaotic crew of your friends group was definitely the best idea. They had made the entire evening more lively and you could feel a smile already tugging at the corner of your lips, knowing full well that Chan and Seungkwan were definitely up to something.

You sighed contently, as Soonyoung and Seokmin offered to help them look more couple-like. And this evening would have been just perfect, if only all of your agenda tonight wasn’t avoiding Jeon Wonwoo.

As soon as you heard what Jeonghan said, you confessed your thoughts on what Wonwoo might do to Soonyoung, who in turn called upon this mini gang who knew your secret for a solution.

So in conclusion, you were back to plan one: avoiding Wonwoo.

You had managed to dodge him the entire evening even though you were missing him a lot. No matter how much your group of friends tried to keep you distracted, it was like every single small thing in the fest reminded you of the times you spent with him some way or another.

You dearly wished you could go back to the days when you were unbothered by his presence, when your heart didn’t race by his mere actions or when your cheeks didn’t heat up at each and every compliment. It was like a part of you was missing, a very important part which wasn’t letting you enjoy and that’s when you realised how much you truly cherished and loved him.

Come on, Y/N. You thought to yourself. It’s not like you and Wonwoo were attached at the waist even back at school. There are many events you two spent without each other. Or were there?

So far you hadn’t bumped into Wonwoo or any of your other friends luckily, and you really hoped the entire night would pass by quickly in this manner. The night was a bit chilly and you were damn sure your best friend was going to wear one of his extra soft sweaters which always made him look tiny and made you want to collapse into his arms.

Presently, you found Seungkwan and Chan asking you the same question of how they looked, but this time Seokmin and Soonyoung had added more party stuff to their looks, like some goofy sunglasses and pompom earrings.

“You look like a desperate couple trying to fix their almost blown up marriage.” A familiar deep voice spoke from behind you as you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder. You froze for a second when the comforting scent hit you, and then finally looked up to see your grinning best friend at your side.

Except that he wasn’t grinning at you. In fact, he wasn’t even looking at you and you felt your stomach drop. Had you taken the game too far once again? At this rate you were pretty sure your friendship would be over by tonight.

Even your gang of friends seemed to be taken aback and for a second you were worried one of them; mostly Soonyoung or Chan; might blurt out asking how he had found them, making it obvious that they had been trying to avoid him but Seokmin was the first to recover and he burst out in laughter, pulling Mingyu into a (random) hug.

“Right? That’s exactly the look we were trying to go for!” Seokmin said.

“Ooh, let’s take a picture and then do Joshua and Jeonghan too.” Jun snickered, causing even you to laugh, making you almost forget that Wonwoo was right beside you.

The rest of your friends moved towards Seungkwan and Chan (fourteen people made it hard to actually fit in one small stall together), and so did you but Wonwoo’s iron-like grip prevented you from moving. You looked up at him once again and he still hadn’t looked at you, but you could see his jaws working.

“We need to talk.” He said and you gulped at how calm he sounded. It felt like the calm before the storm and you were really worried about what he was going to say.

“But- But the fireworks event starts in five minutes!” You protested and he looked at you now.

“Do you even have a date?” He asked. and you looked down at your feet, muttering a ‘no’.

“Well, neither do I. Come on, I found a better place to watch it.” Saying that, he stirred away from the crowd. Before you knew it, you were out of the ground where the fest was taking place, the cool night air causing you to shiver despite your jacket. You turned slightly and saw that you were right, Wonwoo was wearing a sweater.

It reminded you of the night he had kissed you.

“Are you cold?” Wonwoo asked gently, his tone completely changed now and somehow you felt relieved. Maybe he wasn’t angry after all. He probably didn’t even realise it.

You nodded. But what can he do about it? It’s not like he has a jacket or-

Wonwoo pulled you in closer to his body, your back hitting his chest and you felt your cheeks heat up. He wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you into his warmth and you couldn’t help but snuggle closer to him as though by reflex. He was still stirring you away from the fest, but now he was walking slower than before, as though making sure you didn’t accidentally trip over him.

Your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest, almost melting into a puddle because of how he held you, each touch causing goosebumps to rise up your arms (you were glad for your jacket now).

“Where are we going?” You whispered, though you were not sure why you were whispering. Maybe it was because you felt that talking loudly might ruin the mood he had created between the two of you, how much ever platonically he saw it.

“You’ll see.” He whispered back, his breath hot against your ears.

And now you saw where the two of you were heading to. It was the uphill part of your college campus where you and Wonwoo had rested the day after the party. The bench where you had realised you had feelings for him.

In a way Wonwoo was right. You definitely would get a better view here.

Finally, the two of you reached the designated spot and he let you go finally. You took a few steps away from him and looked away, trying to cool your cheeks.

“Y/N.” He called you and you turned towards him. Wonwoo covered the distance between the two of you in just two strides, and you found yourself in his embrace again. “Y/N?” He asked again.

“Yeah?” Your voice shook but you didn’t have it in you to pull away from his grip, to fight against this wonderful fluttering feeling anymore. He looked so beautiful, so beautiful, the moonlight giving a soft glow to his face and yet bringing out his sharp features. You let out a breath, feeling the entire world disappear as though it was just the two of you right now.

Wonwoo raised his hand and pushed his specs back up his nose bridge, causing you to flinch. You immediately regretted your action because he closed his eyes shut, brows frowning as though he had finally realised everything.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was strained, and it broke your heart hearing him like this. “Why didn’t you tell me what I did? I made you uncomfortable and you- and you-”

“Stop it, Woo.” You whispered, cupping his cheeks. His eyes fluttered open and when they met yours, you felt your heart swell with love. “You didn’t- I mean-”

“I’m so sorry Y/N. I'm so, so sorry. I should have realised it earlier-”

“No. It’s my fault too. I didn’t tell you anything.”

He pulled you into a hug, tightening his arms around you as though you might disappear if he let you go. You too clung on to him like he was your lifeline, burying your face into the crook of his neck. You shut your eyes close and somewhere far away, you vaguely heard someone shout that there was a minute left till the countdown.

“I- I have something else to tell you too.” He mumbled and you gently rubbed his back, urging him to go on. The cold had almost disappeared and you would have given up anything to freeze this moment. “Y/N. I love you.”

You froze at his words but Wonwoo went on. “I- I- know I shouldn’t be but I just couldn’t- I just can’t help it. I love you. I love you so much till the point that I can’t imagine a world without you. Even thinking about it makes breathing hard.”

He let out a hollow laughter and you broke from the hug, your hands still on his biceps as you looked at him but he refused to meet your eyes, choosing to stare down instead at the small gap between the two of you.

“You don’t have to respond to me. I just wanted you to know…that when I kissed you it wasn’t because I was drunk or something. I truly love you and I will always treasure you. I know I’m- I’m pathetic.”

“Jeon Wonwoo.” You exhaled and he finally looked back at you. “I kissed you back. Wonwoo, I kissed you back.”

“But that was because it was in the heat of the moment-”

“And then I realised how much I love you. I love you Wonwoo and you are the reason I cannot go to bed without thinking how I will probably end up messing up our relationship. But I can’t stop loving you either.”

Wonwoo blinked at you, as though mulling your words in his head. The two of you stared at each other, until you dropped your eyes down, unable to meet his soft gaze anymore.

“You know,” he said, causing you to look up at him. Down at the ground, the countdown had already started. “I’ve always been whipped for you. It’s like I’m a sucker for you.”

The countdown hit one and you felt Wonwoo jerk you closer to him, his lips crashing with yours. Your heart exploded along with the firecrackers in the sky, but all other noises drowned out when he pulled you in impossibly closer.

It reminded you of the first time you both kissed. But somehow this was different. It felt like there was more feelings in this one, making it more sensual. Wonwoo moved his mouth slowly and softly against yours, his warm lips on yours making your mind completely fuzzy.

He smelled so good, and you clung onto his neck as he rubbed soft circles on your back.

Finally the two of you broke apart, breathless but smiling at each other. Crowd below was clapping, causing you to grin more.

“How are you such a good kisser?” You asked, pretending to be suspicious. Wonwoo just laughed and brushed his nose against yours.

“You missed the fireworks because of me.” He said and you shook your head, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips which caused him to chase after yours.

“It’s fine. I saw different sparks this time.”

He rested his forehead against yours, staring at you softly, nearly causing you to scream internally not to look away.

“I can’t believe the prettiest girl in this world is in love with me.”

“You better believe it Mr.Jeon because now I need to fight off all your fangirls.”

He laughed, and you realised you had never heard a more endearing sound before.

“Don’t worry. I’ve been warding them for all these years just for you. Won’t be hard to do it for a few more years.”

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

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