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#dude I cannot stop listening to this
leavemethescars · 6 months
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Your love was foreign to me, it made me think maybe human’s not such a bad thing to be
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saltpepperbeard · 2 years
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Gentlebeard Tenderness Wishlist™ :
Stede playing with Ed’s hair in some way. Whether that’s just simple twirling, intricate braiding, or delicate washing, I want those salt and pepper touches.
The two of them waking up in bed together- preferably shirtless for additional implications, or tangled up together. Or both.
Along those lines, any sort of cuddling. Snuggling up on deck, embracing as they fall asleep, holding each other through bad moments, or spooning during lazy mornings.
Stede massaging Ed’s bad knee, whether it be idly during soft conversation, or the purposeful focus of a scene.
Any and all sorts of kisses. Kisses on the mouth of course, but give me forehead kisses, cheek kisses, tip of the nose kisses, hand kisses, wrist kisses, neck kisses...
And for kissing specifics, a kiss that Stede initiates, and a kiss they can take their time with. The former to complete the circle, and the latter for them to drown in both relief and love.
Them hugging in an organic way and not just a “I’ve stabbed you, you nut” way.
Having a soft and quiet moment together when they’re rebuilding their relationship. Maybe a stargaze on deck late at night, or a beautiful respite right at dawn. The conversations are vulnerable, the air is gentle, and the returning love is palpable in their stares.
One softly thumbing the other’s tears away, or kissing the tears away.
Terms of endearment. I feel like Ed would use “love/lover” on occasion, and I feel like Stede would be a bit more generous with his. But hearing his “dear, darling, my love, my dove, etc” a lot would still hit super hard.
Honestly any sort of portrayal of love between them, be it verbal, physical, or emotional. I just want so much love, happiness, security, and mutuality for the both of them.
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crabussy · 9 months
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logged on to reddit to find ONE image and was immediately inflicted with ten billion radiation directly to my mind
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codgod · 8 months
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do not know where this came from. but i had a vision pop into my head of chip as freddy, jay as the combined entity of velma and daphne (or alternatively lizzie as one of them, ignoring personality differences), and gillion as shaggy with pretzel as scooby. who in this case would be like a purse chihuahua or something so she can still live on gill’s hip. is this anything
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labratboygirl · 9 months
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god i Hate having 2 deal with my little sister every day . i have 2 babysit her like half of every week and she always fucking yells at me and beats the shit out of me and i can never get her 2 stop
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madefate · 2 months
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if you look closely you can pinpoint the second his heart rips in half -
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arcadequeerz · 2 years
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The way some people on this website act and talk a bout things is just exhausting and frustrating.
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lovesickgyu · 2 years
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i think the funniest irony in step back were the lines "girls bring it on," and then "step back step back silly girl,"
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sissa-arrows · 5 months
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Seeing articles and videos about “Israel” arming settlers reminds me of the stories my great grandpa told me about May 8th 1945. How France armed the settlers so they would help the colonial authorities kill Algerians. 45000 Algerians were killed in just a couple days and many more were jailed without proper trial.
The general who organized the massacre said to France “I got you 10 years of peace. But things need to change in Algeria, they failed only because the protests were not simultaneous. The calm is back only in surface, the gap between the two communities deepened. You cannot keep on using violence if you want to keep Algeria and your methods need to change.”
He was right (still a peace of shit cause dude organized the massacre of 45000 Algerians). France didn’t listen to him and 9 years and a half later on November 1st 1954 the Algerian war of liberation started with simultaneous attacks all over the North of Algeria. It started with 1000 men only and 8 years later Algeria was free of French colonial rule.
That’s why I’m convinced that Palestine will be free because Israel is repeating the same mistakes France did. My grandpa keeps telling me that he trust Palestinians to take back their land because that’s the natural order of things and because “Israel” reminds him so much of France. The methods, the lies, the propaganda. And just like Algerian women managed to show to the world what was truly happening and switched the public opinion, Palestinian journalists are showing to the world what’s happening. It cannot be ignored.
Pro Israel aholes reached the point where they have to disguise their protests as protest against antisemitism in order to gather any form of support from the public. Western medias already lost all credibility to the point where they are backtracking a bit. Politicians are backtracking slowly too. Because they are realizing that if they keep up the unconditional support they will fall with Israel (tbh I think they are all falling with Israel either way because whenever the Global South rise the West fall cause the West is unable to thrive without looting and oppressing the Global South.).
Palestine will be free in our lifetime Inch’Allah and we will all share pictures and videos of the liberation. Palestinians are going to rebuild their country and thrive. If Algeria kicked out colonizers after 132 years Palestine can do it because it’s a country of braves. Because nobody can stop a people who fight for liberation when the people are united.
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faerieguts · 1 year
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omfg i literally just had an epiphany in the shower that my ex lovebombs me multiple times and then disappears shortly after and then makes me seem crazy for getting upset. because he always disappears when im going through it!! and like i need someone and then it’s just like silence lol. but he says it’s because i won’t get back with him so i can’t expect him to be there for me. but then a month later he will be like wow shannon you’re amazing and one of a kind i love you i want to cuddle you ooooo blah blah. either that or im thinking wrong but i really think THATS IT. and why i keep ending up going back over and over and over again and trying to be his friend or whatever !! it does make me feel crazy.
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hor3nee · 1 month
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• Fatherhood •
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What kind of dads are the JJK men ?
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CW/TW: GN! Reader, Mentions of crappy parenting, BREIF mention of pregnancy in Geto's, (Lmk if I should add anything else!)
Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji x Reader
AN: Almost cried writing this the baby fever is going HARD rn dude. Headcanons !
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• Gojo •
Menace of a father, but in the good way! Gojo spends his years raising his kids as if he's their best friend, truly and genuinely treats his kids as equals and in a sweet way, allows his children to have complete trust in him. Because Gojo is quite childish himself, he loves playing with his kids, making a fool of himself, and indulging with them.
Has a bit of a bad side to this though, his lack of traditional discipline or making himself the 'adult' in the situation leads the kids to both be very spoiled and not really ever listen to him.
"Sweetheart, darling, my perfect angel, can you please go to bed?? pretty please! Help your old man here, please??"
"Nuh uh!" And with that bout of defiance, he's back to running up to you, like HE'S the child, begging for your help. Because it seems you're the only one who can get the kids in line, and you do.
Plays pranks and teases the hell out of his kids as they get older, always in a loving way of course, but nonetheless loves getting them flustered over his stupidity. Type of dad to do dumbass dances in the middle of a Walmart to embarrass his kids.
• Geto •
Geto is optimum of what it means to be a gentle parent. Cannot, for the life of him, bring it in himself to yell at his kids. He's so soft-spoken, never so much as raising his voice against his children. Geto has children who respond to his voice alone, because it's so lulling, he's familiarized them with it and made them feel safe with it.
Doesn't mean he can't discipline them, of course he can, and he does so extremely gracefully. Whenever you're on your last straw with the kids, fighting the urge to start scolding them and yell, he steps in, smoothly taking over and the kids instantly listen to him.
"We're your parents, honey, c'mon that's not very nice to say, is it? They carried you for 9 months you know. Say sorry." Like magic the kids shut up and come over to you apologizing while Geto stands back, calmly having fixed the situation with ease.
With everything Geto does, has done, experienced etc, he can sometimes feel conflicted. Geto knows what he is capable of, and what he has done, he's extremely self-aware even if he justifies it, and he can struggle to balance the weight of all of it while also remaining a dutiful father.
Despite it, he does wonders keeping it separate from what his children have to see or experience, teaches them respect and kindness and hopes they hold true to it.
• Nanami •
Not a single man on this list fathers as hard as Nanami fathers. He's built for it like no other. Nanami treats fatherhood with his all, he puts his all into it and makes damn certain he does right by it. Stern when necessary, sweet when needed, provides for his kids and refuses to miss any important milestone of theirs.
Nanami is a calm man but the second work starts piling potentially making him miss his kids school play or something he's arguing with his supervisors and ready to throw hands.
He keeps the drawings his kids make on his desk, alongside a photo of you and your kids. Literally just stares at it while working smiling, unable to wait till he's home with the kids. They are his pride and joy genuinely.
No matter how over-worked Nanami may be though, when he comes home you are basically on vacation. Insists you rest and he takes over literally everything involving the kids.
"Darling, darling no, I got this covered. You take rest. You know I love spending time with my kids." He says with an earnest smile, both kids in his beefy arms just dangling around and playing with their father. He's definitely exhausted from work, but that never stops him.
• Sukuna •
The King of the Curses, as cruel and terrifying as he is, taking pleasure in all sorts of sickness and treating love as pointless, legitimately likes his kid.
He doesn't care about fatherhood, or the responsibilities that being a parent entails, but it's nice having a mini version of himself around. That he likes. An extension of himself and you, it's nice to have around he doesn't mind it. He may act aloof about it, not outwardly showing affection like hugs or kisses, but he clearly enjoys it.
He gets a massive ego trip when his kids cause chaos and disturbances. Points at them laughing with his belly "See that? That's mine."
Sukuna never minces his words though, and his kids have to get used to his bluntness. Again, he doesn't care for the concept of 'parenting', and will in their face call the kid some extreme insults and weak and they have to learn to take it.
On the flip side, Sukuna also never minces his praise, and Sukuna has an abundance to give his kids. Every accomplishment or show of strength that they show he'll let them know he's proud. A good ol' fashioned fatherly slap to their shoulder while he praises them.
He treasures his children, and even if he doesn't put much effort into parenting them, you taking over most of it, he's definitely a present figure in their lives.
• Toji •
Went to get milk, hasn't been seen since.
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cosmerelists · 5 months
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Pros and Cons of Stormlight Characters in the Middle Seat Next to You on a Budget Airline.
As requested by anon. :)
1. Kaladin
Cons: His legs are so long. His hair is so luxurious. His shoulders are so broad. This large, beautiful man is not trying to be in your space, but the budget airline seat cannot contain him. Pros: You started what you thought was an idle conversation, but by the end of your flight, he had diagnosed your chronic pain and become your therapist??
2. Shallan
Pros: Well, she's more of a regular-sized human and she's friendly but quiet. She seems to just want to sketch the whole flight, so no complaints! Cons: Why does she keep staring directly at a space across the plane and sketching the creepiest symbol-headed creatures you've ever seen with her eyes vaguely glazed over like she doesn't even know she's doing it holy shit is this a Twilight Zone situation where there are invisible gremlin monsters on this plane that only she can see and is it your imagination or do you hear humming from somewhere
3. Adolin
Cons: Listen, this is a budget airline, and this guy seems to think it's a fancy spa?? He's got the slippers, the posh eye mask, the luxurious travel pillow, some really nice face creams, and he seems to be video chatting with a girl even though the internet on the plane doesn't even work. Frankly, you're jealous and grouchy about it. Pros: Okay, he actually seems really sweet and he gave you some of his way-too-nice-for-an-airplane snacks. You take it all back; this guy is awesome.
4. Szeth
Pros: He is so still. So quiet. Almost folded in on himself. Barely...breathing? Honestly, you keep forgetting the middle seat is occupied, and how rare is that! Cons: You just...you think you'd feel better if he just blinked. Just once. Please.
5. Lift
Cons: You had to sigh just a little when a little kid plopped down next to you. Also, she goes to the bathroom every five minutes, and comes back with food every time. You think she might be robbing people. Pros: She complimented your butt quite sincerely. You've always been kinda self-conscious about your butt! But apparently yours is the "second best she's ever seen." Feels nice.
6. Jasnah
Pros: Like, is it possible for someone to just be really good at flying? She came in, expertly stowed her luggage, sat down elegantly, did her seatbelt, used a wipe to clean up the tray table and surrounding area, and immediately starting reading some thick tome. Do you have a crush on her? You might have a crush on her. Cons: She glanced at the book you're reading, and you know she judged you for it.
7. Wit
Cons: Does this guy EVER stop talking? Pros: Okay, actually, you found him kind of annoying at first, but that story he told you about the temple and the duck might have healed years of trauma? Did you just realize that you don't have to forgive your mom and that's okay?
8. Renarin
Pros: He sat down and you were like, "Okay. Cute nerd. I dig it." Cons: You just wish he wouldn't scrawl foreboding-seeming numerals on the back of the airline chair in front of him. Is it counting down to...just before the plane lands? What does it mean???
9. Amarem
Cons: He came in and was IMMEDIATELY like, "I am taller than you and so I should have your seat." And then he just...waited? Like he thought you'd just comply??? Pros: He seems intent on pretending that never happened. Fine by you. That guy seems like an asshole.
10. Zahel
Pros: He falls asleep, like, immediately and doesn't stir for the entire flight. Cons: He's just kinda stinky.
11. Dalinar
Cons: He sits down and, unprompted, says something like, "In my youth I would always battle to occupy every armrest but now, after reading The Way of Planes, I have realized that it is the journey, not the armrests, that matter, so you can have them" and then you're like, "Dude, the person in the middle seat gets the armrests that's just common courtesy" and then he looks at you and you look at him and it's vaguely awkward the whole flight and nobody uses the armrests. Pros: Actually, after a while you do take the armrest and the tension goes down a lot.
12. Taravangian
Pros: He just kinda seems like a nice old man, you know? Kinda confused about stuff, but harmless enough. Cons: He falls asleep partway through and droops his head onto your shoulder and drools a bit and you know you sound ridiculous but it feels somehow calculated. Intentional. Evil.
13. Sebarial
Cons: The very second beverage service starts he's all, "Bring me a BOTTLE of wine" and you're like, "Oh no. It's one of those dudes who gets way too drunk on planes!" Pros: You know? This guy actually seems pretty jolly and chill. You catch yourself thinking, "I wish I could pretend he was my uncle." You're not sure where that came from.
14. Rock
Pros: He scoffs at the provided airline snacks and gets out this thermos and gives you the best damn soup you've ever had in your life. Cons: He's just a large, warm man. Very large. Very warm. Not his fault, of course, but now YOU are very warm.
15. Elhokar
Cons: Every time there is plane turbulence, he mutters something about how it's the assassins coming to finish the job. Poor dude must be really scared of flying. Pros: You feel a warm, parental feeling growing in you as you look at this sad, scared man. Maybe your mom was right. Maybe you WOULD be good with kids.
16. Eshonai
Pros: This lady is, just, SO excited to be traveling that it can't help but make YOU excited to travel. Like, you always thought plane travel sucked, especially budget airline travel, be she is so delighted by everything that you find yourself thinking, "You know, it IS pretty amazing that we're soaring through the sky right now traveling to a new land." Cons: Cons? No cons. You wish you could ALWAYS see flying through this woman's eyes.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 3 months
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Heyyyyy you should totally do like Luke with a reader who drives like a maniac. Like they cannot be trusted within ten meters of a car
Love youuuu!! Your work is so good!!
Bad Idea
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
I love this idea sm for some reason, thank you, im glad you like it!!
Warnings: nothing rlly, Luke never joins kronos, they go on a silly lil adventure w Percy
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The first time you drove with Luke, he held onto anything he could as you drove faster than the speed limit, accidentally running onto curbs while doing so. How you never got pulled over before, he had no clue.
"Alright, slow down-" He tried, but you simply just said "We're fine," and continued to the destination. Once you finally reached where you both needed to be, he quickly got out of the car, and reminded himself to never let you drive again.
And somehow, after months, you hadn't been near a car. But now, Percy was asking to be driven somewhere, to meet up with the others. You couldn't deny him, and no matter how many times Luke warned against it, you ended up in the driver's seat.
Luke sighed heavily as he entered the car, mentally preparing himself.
"Relax, my drivings not that bad."
"Uh, last time I kissed the ground I walked on as soon as I opened the door.”
“Whatever. Don’t listen to him, Percy.” You said, Percy just furrowed his eyebrows, confused at what you both were talking about.
“Hold on.” Luke craned his head and mouthed it to Percy, Percy listened and grabbed onto the back of the passenger seat.
You rolled your eyes, and once you started the car, Percy was even more confused at what Luke meant. You seemed like an okay driver so far.
That was until you actually got on the road, cursing and flipping some people off was the first thing, and driving like it was a game of need for speed was the second thing to happen.
Percy shut his eyes, “this is how I’m gonna die.” He kept repeating, Luke held on tightly and kept telling you to slow down.
“Just- slow down, plea-!“ he yelled, sentence being cut short when you hit a curb, making you say a little ‘oops.’ And continue on.
As soon as the car stopped, they both ran out the car, Percy stumbling out and talking to Luke.
“Okay, dude, I think you need to learn how to drive.” He said, looking up at the man.
“Agreed. Agreed.”
“Y/n, my love, my world, how about we take an Uber back home?” Luke said, looking back at you as you just acted like nothing had happened and you hadn’t just probably disobeyed traffic laws 20 times in the one drive.
“And leave the car here?”
“Uh, listen, I can get someone to drive it over to the hotel.” He shrugged, willing to do anything as long as he doesn’t get back in the car with you.
“Okay. But you’re paying, Castellan.” You kissed his cheek, he put his hands in a praying gesture, “Thank you, Gods.”
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zairene · 10 months
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misc. earth 42!miles morales bf headcanons. <3
warnings: some fluff.
author’s note: i had no idea what to write specifically so i just wanted write some random miles hcs that i had conjured up in my head. ngl this is definitely one of my weaker written pieces, but i still wanted to get it out regardless. </3
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miles is very touchy. some part of his body has to always be touching yours. you both could be sitting down—his hand would be on your thigh or his arm is around your shoulder. you both necessarily don’t have to be directly next to each other. he could be sitting in at his desk, playing his game while your legs are in his lap. (he put a chair next to his so you could be comfortable.)
while cuddling, miles is big spoon. he doesn’t have any against being little spoon, he just likes feeling like he’s protecting you. but if you insist on being big spoon, he’ll cave in after you give him a kiss or two.
speaking of kisses, miles goes weak from that. his favorite places to kiss you on is either your forehead, lips or cheek. (sometimes your jawline too) he initiates kisses most of the time but whenever you do, he can’t help but melt in your arms instantly every time.
miles always indulges in hearing you talk. he could never pinpoint it, but he was in love with your voice. you could be over the phone or in person. you could be rambling about something but then you just stop because you notice the way he’s just looking at you. he hadn’t said anything since you started talking, he just was staring at you with admiration. you would ask him if he was listening to you, and he’ll reply with a, “sí, estoy escuchando.” (yes, i’m listening.) with a slight head nod.
miles is definitely a “yes ma’am” dude. if you tell him to do something, he does it. it’s honestly kinda scary how he’ll listen to your every word. you both could be in public and you notice that your shoe string is untied. you nudge him with your foot and politely ask if he could tie your shoe. he’ll literally bend down and tie it, no questions asked. his mom could walk up in his room, saying something along the lines of, “miles, what are you doing? esta habitación es un desastre!” (this room is a mess!) and tells him to immediately clean it up before she takes his things and not allow you over until he does. after she walks out, he’d shrug and say that his room isn’t even dirty, but once you tell him to clean it he’ll immediately get up and do it.
miles’ love language is quality time. he loves spending every hour of every day with you. and when he’s not with you, he’s in not in a particularly good mood. (he refuses to talk to anyone but his parents) not saying he cannot live without you, no that’s not the case. he‘s just a grumpy kid who just misses his girlfriend. he hates school weeks but loves weekends. and whenever it’s summer, he’s just glad he can spend it with you.
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TAGLIST :: @kisamekiss @kazuminari @planetlunaa @mypimpademia @megurulvr @dreampurpledreams @chinieh @naijagrl @looking4chanel @pixieplush17 @jogeto @laylasbunbunny @jamies-cumslut @sapphicshav
TAGLIST FORM
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mae-gi-writes · 11 months
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rile you up | lee Minho (xo kitty)
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You’re Minho’s latest form of entertainment and he cannot just get enough of riling you up.
Genre: romcom, slice of life, school!au, minho is a little dick
———
“Fuck you, Minho.”
“What a ray of sunshine you are on this fine day.”
You grit your teeth together, almost grind them to nothing, and repeat the words with even more conviction, “I said fuck you.”
”Watch that tongue sunshine, might fall out if you’re not careful,” Minho’s grin just widens at the way your eyes have narrowed into slights. If looks could kill, he would’ve been shot int he head twice, revived, and shot once again. But thankfully for him, your narrow-eyed stare is nothing scarier than a cute kitten ready to take her claws out.
It’s a boring, rainy and muddy Wednesday afternoon and you really don’t want to be here, in English Lit, listening to professor Lau drone on and on about love and friendship in the verses of Lord Byron’s poems and how, if you read in-between the lines and analyze the intonations, the words, the onomatopieas, you’ll find a much deeper definition of Lord Byron’s feelings.
And Minho sitting right beside you is not making it much easier.
“You’ve got a pimple growing on your left cheek,” Minho squints at your face as you turn away, cupping your face with your hands as your eyes find the lock tick, tick, ticking at the far end of the classroom. Thirty more minutes of this torture.
“Can you just stop hyper-analyzing me like I’m some kind of lab rat?I’m really not in the mood for this right now.” You snap back.
“Woah,” Minho sighs before he shakes his head, “you really did wake up on the wrong side of the bed today.”
“And you, my friend, need to mind your own business.”
“Minho and Y/N.”
Professor Lau’s voice causes both of them to wince, physically, before looking up to see the said old man with bespectacled glasses, the book of poems in his hand and his eyebrows raised as though he expected better.
If you’re being honest, you really do enjoy Professor Lau’s classes, normally. Normally.
But not today. Today, you’re having a completely off day. You woke up late, you couldn’t sleep at all last night, and all the coffee had run out by the time you’d made it to campus. Your grades are suffering and you’re currently trying to ploughing through all the assignments without drowning.
And the worst of it all, you miss home.
You miss your mom. You miss your family, your brother with whom you would fight with at every occasion and play Mario kart with. You missed your grandma, your aunts, the food they cooked, the shared laughter, the smiles…
You’re in so deep in your thought process that you haven’t even registered that Professor Lau is telling you off until he calls for your name that brings you back to attention.
“—yes?” Your eyes flit up to Professor Lau’s and a wave of emotion suddenly takes its toll on you. You try hard to blink back the sudden burn of tears at the corner of your eyes, crawling up your throat.
“I was expecting better of your behaviour, miss Y/N,” he says, pointedly looking between you and Minho with pursed lips, “in my office after class. You’re up for cleaning duty.”
Great. That’s exactly what you need. After everything.
Fucking. Great.
———
“These pretty hands cannot clean,” these are Minho’s first words as the rest of the class files out to leave you two alone on cleaning duty and as you had predicted, there are papers all over the place, test papers and pens and pencils, “I’ve taken care of my hands all these years. I am not ruining it just to clean a classroom.”
“You are so freaking dramatic,” you roll your eyes, standing up to find the cleaning supplies that are stacked at the back of the class, in the storage closet, “let’s just get this over with and we can both move on with our lives and I won’t have to see you again for the rest of this week.”
“What’s up your arse, dude?” Minho follows you, one hand leaning on the doorframe as you start pulling out the duster, the cleaning rags and the shiny new broom that Professor Lau is currently obsessed with, “you’ve been acting really weird.”
“What?” You scoff, proceeding to hand him the broom because you know he’s never going to be the one on his hands and knees cleaning the floors, “I’m not. I’m just tired.”
“No, you’ve been acting off all week. You’re all snappy, your dark circles are so prominent you look like a walking zombie and you keep asking me to go fuck myself,” Minho rolls his eyes, “also, how do you use this?”
“Jesus chri—“ you make a move towards him, grabbing the hand holding the broom while struggling to circle his back and grabbing the other, “you keep that thing steady, then you brush the dirt from this one—“ you grip his hand and shuffle it over the floor in a sweeping motion, “until it goes into the pan. Got it?”
It's only then you realize the warmth emanating from Minho's back. If you move a little closer, you could press your cheek against him. He smells like something citrus and fresh mint and man.
Somehow, it makes goosebumps explode all over your skin. You step back abruptly, noting the heat searing through your palms where you had touched him just as he turns to face you, "you seem to be a natural at this. Why don't you do it?"
"I'm gonna take care of the floors," you're glad for the distraction that comes in the form of the rag, for there's a knot of heat in the middle of your chest and you're not quite sure how to deal with it, "let's just get this over with."
There's a long moment of silence as both of you focus on your tasks, which helps to calm down your nerves. Somehow, the sound of Minho's brush is conforting to hear.
Until he speaks up, "so you're gonna tell me what's wrong?"
"Why should I tell you, of all people?"
"Because there's nobody else around and seeing you all mopey makes me actually feel bad for you."
You wipe off the dusty corner by the teacher's desk, "Do you have any ounce of decency in you somewhere?"
"Not when you're involved," Minho snickers.
You whip around, throw the balled-up rag at him and smirk in satiafaction when it hits him square in the head, "ow--what the fuck, Y/N?!"
Glad that you managed to piss him off, you turn and continue, "oops sorry. My hand slipped."
It's not ultimately Minho's fault that you're more anxious, more easily irritated than usual. So you can't really take it out on him. But he doesn't make it any easier either.
Thankfully, the rest of the cleanup goes smoothly as butter and he parts ways with the excuse that he needs to go find his aupposed lunch date, to which you merely rolles your eyes and headed for the dining hall alone.
It doesn't normally bother you to be alone. On the contrary, you relish in those silent moments of freedom without having to hear an earful from Kitty and Q, or having Yuri complain about yet another one of her life's family miseries.
But as you find a vacant seat by the door, you can't help but suddenly feel a little small in a room full of people who seem to be right where they should be. And something in your heart constricts and clenches so hard it causes a soft sob to die at the back of your throat.
You grip your spoon a little tighter and bite down so hard on your lip that you feel the tangy taste of blood.
It feels lonely.
------
You're kind of sick.
Not physically sick.
Just sick of hearing christmas carols ringing all over campus. Sick of smelling hot chocolate in the air, sick of seeing luggages being dragged on vacation.
Sick of being here.
For an international student, returning home for Christmas was never an option. The airplane ticket is too expensive for your familt to afford, and you wouldn't ever impose that on them. But if you had to admit to that selfish part of you; you wished you were privileged enough to get to fly out at every chance you got.
Alas, that is not the kind of life that you live.
So when the doorbell rings at seven-thirty in the morning on Christmas Eve, you're more than surprised to find none other than Minho standing by your door with his hands in his pockets.
"Wh--Yeah? What do you want?" You frown upon noticing the lack of luggage behind him. Knowing Minho, he packed like a diva.
He hums and peeks inside your flat, causing you to shuffle into his peripheral vision, "what do you want Minho?"
"You're not packed."
"Wise observation, smartass."
He brushes past you and strides inside, taking his shoes off casually by the door, "why not?"
"None of your business."
He throws you an exasperated look, "you gonna keep being like this?"
"I don't know, are you gonna keep annoying the hell out of me?"
He can't help the grin that spreads over his face at that, "you're fun to mess around with."
"Well for your information, it's not fun. Not for me," you don't hesitate to walk over before grabbing onto his arm and tugging over to the door, "really. I'm fine. Now leave."
"I'm surprised you're not going home for Christmas," he continues as you're pushing him out of the door.
It stings, "why?"
"International kids usually do," he folds his arms, proceeds to lean into the open doorway and you got another whiff of his scent, "what? Daddy didn't want to pay for you this time?"
"My dad died. Two years ago."
There's surprise first, that flashes through his eyes. Then realization slowly dawns.
There’s some kind of weight in your chest. Like your heart has just broke.
"What?" You laugh but it's dry and twisted, "cat got your tongue? Too shocked to speak? Poor little Y/N, who doesn't have a father to pay off her credit card bills, right?"
"I didn't know--"
"Of course you didn't. You never asked."
"I'm--" he swallows, looks away, "—sorry."
You scoff, "don't. It's okay. I've been over it for the past two years."
It's not what he says but rather the way he looks at you that makes your insides shrivel up with dread and fear and the idea that he'll never look at you the same way ever again.
Because the thing is, no matter how much Mjnjo teases you, bullies you into oblivion, you do enjoy the attention, the banter. It's almost as if it's better than just being ignored altogether.
And amidst all his teasing and his annoying personaity, there are bite and smidges of Minho's kindness smattered in-between, flecks of tenderness that makes your heart soar, your brrath
To have such a man look down at you, pity you, makes you want to be sick.
"Y/N--" you cut him off before he can even try to make it up to you, "it's fine, Minho. Just drop it--"
"Wha--I said I was sorry, don't give me that look--"
"I said drop it!" You swerve around on him, anger bubbling from deep within your chest as blood pulses through, rushes through you, "for one goddamn second, can you just leave me alone?! I don’t need this—this constant bullying of your part! It’s tiring and it’s just so goddamn frustrating and humiliating so will you just stop?!”
The shocked silence that follows your sudden outburst is heavy. If the tension had been thick before, it’s now so hard you can barely cut it with a knife. You try to regulate your staccato breaths, try not to let your body take over your mind as you focus on breathing in, breathing out, breathing in. Breathing out. Just like that.
Calm. Like water. Like you’re a river that never stops.
“Just go, Minho,” your words are bitter. You can barely look his way, an overwhelming surge of irritation, guilt and hurt swimming through you.
Thankfully, the young man seems just as surprised as you are and leaves without even a backward glance. That’s when you finally cave in and allow your legs to crumble to your floor. Pressing your head against the door, your body instantly gives into the sadness that crumbles through you like used up tissue, soaking in all the tears that are suddenly cascading down your cheeks without restraint.
You cry yourself to sleep that night.
———
“Minho, I’m really sorry about my behaviour.”
You stare.
Your reflection stares back.
Shit. This doesn’t feel right. You close your eyes, exhale a soft breath, and open them once more only to find a set of familiar brown eyes gazing back at you.
It’s just the day after Christmas and though the majority of your friends were still off campus, you’re well aware that a certain Korean young man has decidedly stayed back because of his mother’s offshoot shooting commercial.
However, you still hadn’t gotten the guts to go back and ask him for a formal apology yet. Did you even need one when he’d been the one prodding you with a stick like he would with a nest of aggressive bees?
Oh well. You decided you’d be the bigger person and make the first move. As always.
So you look back to your reflection with renewed determination, take a deep breath before forcing the words out, “I am really sorry for my shitty behaviour, Minho, I should’ve—no,” you shake your head, start again and clasp your hands together for good measure, “I’m really sorry if I offended you in any way, I was hurt—no. God. I sound so pathetic.” You can’t help but curse at the mirror.
Inhale. Exhale. Deep breath. And you try once more, this time adding a small smile.
“I’m really sorry for everything that I said. I was being a bit insensitive and wasn’t in the right headspace—“ you break off with a frustrated snarl, “god! Why is it so hard to apologize to the dude?!”
“The dude’s standing right here.”
Shocked, you swivel around only to find none other than the said question in person leaning against your doorway, eyebrows raised and a semblance of a smirk lining his lips.
“M—Minho,” you feel like slapping yourself for sounding like a stuttering goldfish. Quickly, your hands smooth down your sweater, hiding them in the big bell sleeves as your eyes find everything — anything, to get off his face, “what—what are you doing here?”
“I was looking for you, actually.”
“Why?”
You’re still not looking, deciding that the faint crack in your dorm room is much more interesting.
Minho’s footsteps approach as he strides close, close enough that you get a whiff of his expensive cologne and restrain yourself from sighing out loud.
The bastard smells too good, you feel like crying.
“Why?” He scoffs, “isn’t it obvious?”
“Not really.”
“Alright. Fine,” you’re still not looking at him, which is why you almost jump out of your skin the moment you feel the gentlest graze of his fingertips at your jaw.
“Wha—“ you stutter, eyes flashing up to his on instinct.
Dark brown meets swirls of maroon. You almost lose your breath.
In the mid-morning light with sunshine falling over half of his face, Minho looks like he’d just walked out of some fashion magazine.
“What are you…doing?” You manage to murmur out. Barely.
It’s hard to concentrate when he’s right there, in your personal space, looking a little too dashing for his own good.
“You’re right. I was being a selfish dick to you two days ago,” his grip on your chin is firm, his dark eyes even firmer, “so I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way.”
You laugh, “wait—is Minho actually apologizing? To me?”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“But this is a legendary moment,” you fake a mocking gasp at him, “I should record this right now.”
“Don’t make me regret it, Y/N.”
Chuckling, your eyes crinkle up as you allow yourself to roam over his features, “okay okay, I’ll stop.”
Minho fidgets and doesn’t say anything back. Weird, considering that he has a comeback for everything. You feel his hand drop from your chin as he takes a step back, lips pressed together and face looking like he’s uncomfortable being here.
Do you make him uncomfortable? It’s not a sight you’re used to seeing. Something tugs at your heartstrings but you try and ignore it.
“What is it?” You ask instead.
“There is…” his eyes dart away, “something I need to tell you.”
“About?”
His hand drops. Instantly, cold swoops in.
“About me. And you.”
You squint, “Minho I swear, if this is one of your stupid jokes again—“
“I like you.”
You blink.
He gazes back. His eyes. They’re gazing straight at you. Focused. Intense. Hot.
So hot it causes a flame to burst in your chest.
Wait…your mind backtracks, what?
“You—“ your mouth opens. Closes. Opens once more, "I'm sorry--what?"
His eyes answer in his stead. Dark orbs swirling with a depth that makes your skin explode in goosebumps. You realize, all too soon, how close you are, how -- if you want -- you can diminish the space between just with one single step forward.
"I like you," he says it honestly. Somehow, you relish in the way he says it. Clear and transparent. No inside games, no beating around the bush, "maybe more than a little."
You sense a but. "And?"
He rolls his eyes, "and maybe I just don't know how to show it."
"You mean, acting like a five year old boy who bullies his crush for fun because he likes her?"
"Something like that."
"Okay," you drag out the word in hopes that it will hide the way your heart suddenly skips a beat, the way your legs feel weaker at the knees, "so what--what now?"
"Well, that's the part where you tell me you like me back--" Minho catches himself upon seeing you raise a brow at him, "--or not. Your choice, your rules, doll."
Doll? You can feel the flame bursting through your chest and squeezing your heart. It aches so much it hurts, though it seems that your smile can't help tugging at the corners of your lips as you watch him and despite his seeming nonchalance about the whole matter, there's the slightest sheen of pink that gives him away.
Cute. Your brain chants.
"Well," you tilt your chin up in what you hope is a confident manner, "you normally take a girl out to dinner first."
"Is that a yes?" Minho smirks.
"Did you hear what I said?"
"Yes, yes I heard alright. Fine," he sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "tomorrow night. Dinner. Be ready by six. I'll pick you up."
"Tomorrow? But wait I--"
"You better be there, doll."
And with that, he swivels on his feet and walk away while whistling a soft tune, leaving your heart flooded with a tide of mixed emotions that erupt through your chest and butterflies running along your skin.
---
Minho: I'll come pick you up by six. Be ready then. Wear something cute but casual. Nothing fancy.
Y/N: i like how you're telling me how to dress up when you're the one who's supposes to be wooing me.
Minho: oh you don't have to worry about that.
The way he replies so smoothly has goosebumps running along the back of your neck and you squeeze your hands into fists. You're still sitting on your bed, trying to digest all this new information as another flurry of messages burst through your phone, probably fron Kitty's latest reaction your news.
Kitty: what?! Minho?! And you?! He asked you out?!!! Omg how did I not see this coming!!!
Y/N: i thought you were a matchmaker.
Kitty: well YEAH before he went and ruined it!!! Anyway, what are you WEARING?!
Y/N: i have absolutely no idea. He said something cute but casual, so I'm guessing there's not gonna be any fancy dinners or anything.
Kitty: omg!! Minho and casual doesn't sound right. Maybe he really is trying to woo you!!
Y/N: should I wear shorts? Pants? A skirt?
Kitty: definitely no pants. Maybe that cute skater skirt you wore to Yuri's party last semester?
So you do. The skirt's baby blue colour contrasts well with the simple white tshirt you decided to wear with it, and throwing on a beige cardigan and some white sneakers complete the look. You add a small blue bow into your hair to match, and take one last look at yourself in hopes that you're looking exactly how Minho wants you to--
No. That's the wrong way to go about it. Minho likes you. Yes. You. Not the girls he's always so uses to seeing. You don't have to impress him.
That’s how you meet him right outside your door, with your newly-found resolve as you catch the simple white tee and ripped jeans, hair styled just the way he likes it, just enough to make every woman’s heart swoon.
His eyes do a once-over, “not bad, Y/N. You clean up nice.”
“Not bad?” You scoff, “I’m sure there are much better adjectives to use.”
He grins, “we’ll see.”
Minho brings you over to the Han river by electric scooter, with you standing in front and holding on to the handlebars as he guides you across the street even though it’s technically illegal for people to do such a thing. But with the wind in your hair and Minho’s warmth at your back, you don’t find yourself complaining.
“Han river?” You raise a brow at him as he parks and pays for his e-scooter ride, “really? So cliche.”
“The Han River is a classic,” he looks at you pointedly, “and I’ll have you know, I’ve never brought anyone here before.”
“Ooh, does that mean anything?” You wriggle your brows and he scoffs, looks away, “shut up.”
You weren’t expecting him, of all people, to be a fan of romantic gestures such as this. But when he parks his scooter in favor of walking alongside you by the trail — even with his multiple complaints about the dirt being too dirty and people needing to revisit their wardrobe fashion — you can’t help but wonder how much effort he’s putting into just being with you. Because knowing Minho, walking on crushed grass and having his shoes in dirt is quite a big deal.
“Look, do you want to be swooned or not?” He replies when you ask him the question, even looks offended that you’d dared ask such a thing, “I thought girls loved it when boys brought them here.”
“Yes I know that,” your grin is so wide that you’re surprised it hasn’t broken your face in two yet, “and don’t get me wrong. I love it, but I never thought you—of all people — would bring me here, of all places. It’s just not…”
“Not what?” He scowls.
“Just not you,” you confess, and then, seeing that his frown seems to take a permanent fixture on his face, you quickly add, “so the fact that you’re doing it…thanks. It means…something. You know?”
Heat springs through your cheeks at the sudden confession and you quickly look away, anywhere, but not before glancing at Minho to see that he has a faint smile dancing across his lips.
As the evening wears on, you get to talk about everything and anything; from worries about your future and the rigorous routine of adult life, about which game box is better and which restaurant serves the best korean noodles, which Minho argues does not exist, considering that every single noodle joint in Seoul is a pro in making them.
"We're the city of noodles and gimbap, obviously there's more than one good noodle stop."
"You speak like someone who hasn't tasted Uncle Cha's food yet. You know, the snack from across the road to campus."
Minho's nose wrinkles, "nah I'm good--"
"Oh no you don't," you grab onto his arm before he has a chance to run away, "nu-uh. Let's go get them right now, actually."
Surprisingly awed by Cha's cuisine, Minho has no other choice than to grumble out a faint agreement. It's no secret that it makes your day.
"But the environment--" Minho shudders, "I think I saw a cockcroach scuttling about in there."
“Oh yeah,” you let your eyes follow the wall and trail back up to him, pointing at his face, “there’s one.”
Shoving you playfully, he pulls out his tongue in such a childish manner you can’t help but burst out laughing.
You decide to take the walk back along the Han River even if it makes a detour, stopping by a coffee shop to grab some hot chocolate. The city lights now illuminate the city like stars scraping the earth’s surface and you can’t help but feel amazed by how beautiful the scenery is, with the wind trickling through your hair and soft music from busking sessions in the background.
“I’ve never actually walked along the Han River before,” you confess to him as you gaze down at the black waters sloshing against the river edge, “thanks, Minho.”
He has the look of a satisfied five year old child who got a gold star for his best behaviour, “you’re welcome.”
“Who knew you’d be the one to bring me here?” You jostle his shoulder playfully before taking a sip of your hot chocolate.
“What’s that you’re implying?” He frowns.
“That you’ve surprised me and my expectations.”
“And that’s supposed to be a compliment?” He looks horrified and dramatic, “you’re harsh, Y/N. I’ll have you know, I haven’t—“ he stops himself just in time for you to swoop in and push, “yeah? You haven’t what?”
“Nevermind,” he sips his own drink and you notice the way his ears have turned red.
You giggle, “tell me, have you gone on dates before?”
“Wha—of course I have! What kind of question is that?!” You keep on laughing and laughing at his face, shaking your head as you try and muffle your chuckles the best you can, “oh god—oh my god, you never have. It’s written all over your face—“
“You talk too much,” he mutters into his drink and turns away from you, ears as red as a fire engine.
You nudge him, smiling, loving that side of him that he’s never really shown anyone before. Because you all know the cool, confident Minho. But this, this side of Minho is uncharted territory.
And you’re all here for it.
“Why not, though?”
His eyes narrow as he looks back at you, “what?”
“Why haven’t you brought anyone out before?’ You fidget with your cup, glad that it’s warming your hands so you can busy yourself with something, “because I’ve seen you, with different types of girls. All the time—“
“Yeah that didn’t mean anything.”
“But you still went out with them.”
“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”
“What?” Heat flushes through you, “no, I just—“
That’s when you feel it. His hand, fluttering up to yours. He pries your hold from your cup gently before bringing it down between you, fingers entangling with yours like they’re meant to be there in the first place.
And when your eyes flutter to lock onto his, there’s liquid warmth in those pools of brown, a tenderness you’ve seldom seen before.
“This is new too,” he murmurs then, “all of this.”
Your heart skips a beat. There are no words to be said.
You swallow thickly, look away, and don’t miss the soft chuckle that falls from his lips as he keeps swinging your hands back and forth between you, his smile a permanent fixture on his face. One that your lips mirror faintly as you keep walking back towards your dorms in comforting silence.
———
“Was that romantic enough for you?”
Minho’s question is met with a chuckle from your part as you finally reach your dormitory. A few stray students are still studying deep into the night, some already asleep on the deep blue couches in the common room as you make your way through, hands still entertained from earlier.
Your heart has been skipping and rollerblading into ecstasy ever since.
“Hmm,” you hum, even tilting your head in thought, “guess so. Though if I had any complaints—“
“You wouldn’t tell me, because there aren’t any,” Minho finishes for you, “right?”
“Oh i have plenty, but I’ll keep it for another time,” you flash him a mischievous smile. You’ve reached your corridor by that time, your words causing Minho to shoot you a suggestive look.
“another time?” He repeats with a cock of his brow.
You bite your lip and look away to avoid the fact that there’s a faint, yet growing smile on your face, “yeah. Maybe.”
The said young man’s lips pulls into a small smile, “I can work with that.” He murmurs, and something warm pools in the middle of your chest.
It’s hard to control yourself around Minho especially when he’s not being a little shit. Because the fact is; he’s very enticingly charming and likable.
“Well, that’s me,” you’ve reached your door then, glad that for once your dorm room is free of activity since both your roommates have gone home for the Christmas season, and turn towards Minho.
“Thanks you, for tonight,” your cheeks are warm with heat but you can’t resist grinning up at him, “I had more fun than expected.”
Minho sucks in a dramatic breath, “wow. I think i finally got a compliment out of your mouth.”
“Trust me, that’s me being nice.”
“I know,” he flashes a grin at you and before you know it, his arm has gone up to press against the doorway, caging you in and suddenly making you feel smaller than you are already. His body heat rolls into you in waves, the scent of his boyish cologne making you dizzy as your body leans into him unconsciously.
“So,” he breathes. He’s so close, so close that if you move just a little, your noses would brush, “since I’ve taken you out on a date, do I get to kiss you now?”
Air stills in your lungs. Your teeth find your lower lip.
“It depends,” your whisper is so soft he barely catches it, too enthralled by the way your mouth curves and moves with the words, “will you take me out again?”
“If her highness wishes,” Minho chuckles, tilting his head so that your noses brush. Electricity zaps through your body, goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, “I’ll take you wherever you want.”
Your eyes lock. There’s warmth, want. Desire swimming through his own pools of brown.
“Sounds like a promise,” you breathe, “so when will that—“
“Y/N.”
The way he says your name has a knot tightening in your stomach. Your body tenses in anticipation.
He’s gazing at you as if he’s only just seeing you. His lips are so close, you can feel his breaths on your lips. Hot against cold. He smells divine.
You’re so lost in your own daydream that you respond a few seconds late, “y-yeah?”
“Do me a favor?”
One hand cradles your cheek. You freeze.
“Hm?”
“Stop talking.”
And before you can do anything else, his mouth presses against yours.
Fireworks explode. Behind your eyelids. Through your body. Blood races and your brain goes fuzzy with want and desire as Minho’s other hand wraps around your waist to tug you in, his other hand clasping your jaw firmly as he kisses you. Once. Twice. He’s a good kisser, yet so gentle and tentative.
You’re taken by surprise for a few seconds, before you finally melt into him and kiss him back. A sigh escapes you as your hands go up to wrap around his neck, and the groan of satisfaction he lets out makes your entire nerves buzz with delight.
Tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, longer, you let out a gasp against his mouth as he pulls you even closer still, as if he can’t get enough of you. You haven’t realized you’re pressed to the door until your back meets the hard wood underneath and you yelp softly at the way his tongue swipes over your bottom lip to ask for entrance.
He kisses you softly, yet so firmly as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, satiated. His hand at your hip moves up, tracing the back of your spine, the side of your rib cage before brushing against the corner of your bra and making you squirm while your hands curl into his hair. You tug, causing a grumble to echo out of Minho’s chest. His tongue darts in and you part for him like melted butter so that he can kiss you and ravage you without restraint.
Everything falls away, with only Minho being your anchor. You smell him, feel him against you, and want nothing else other than the dizzying rush that makes your stomach erupt with fireflies.
Your mouths part with a pop and he takes this chance to nip at your jaw, littering kisses down your neck before suckling on a soft patch of skin. Your body reacts instantly, curving into him as your lips part in a soft, minuscule moan. That’s enough to snap him back to attention.
He gazes up at you, chest heaving and all heavy breaths. His lips are swollen and red and just so beautiful. Hair tousled like he’s just tumbled out of bed and you quickly decide that’s the look you love best on him.
The curfew bell sounds and he curses.
“Minho,” you murmur when he leans in, noses brushing to capture your lips into his once more. You sigh, eyes falling shut as he takes your next set of words away.
It’s almost as if he’s drunk on you, as if he just can’t get enough.
The thought makes you shiver. Your heart swells with emotion.
“Minho,” you murmur once more against his lips. He groans, pulls away onto to bury his face into your neck and humming, “yeah?”
“Curfew’s in two minutes.”
“I know,” he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses over your collarbone and you can’t help but whimper and cradling his head closer to you despite trying to make sense of your thoughts.
“Y—You should go,” you stutter out but it’s almost like you’re talking to yourself. He’s clearly in his own world, suckling onto your skin and leaving purple marks to claim you as his. He pulls away, groaning appreciatively at the sight you make.
“Do I really have to go?” His dark eyes — darker than you’ve ever seen them — flickers over your features. There’s a kind of hunger to them that makes you shiver.
“Yes,” you stammer out, heart almost bursting out of your chest when the boy merely tugs you close before he rests his head atop yours. He holds you, breaths you in, and your eyes close on their own accord, taking in the moment like it’s the last.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” his whisper grazes the shell of your ear and you shiver. He pulls back and there’s the kind of crooked smile that makes your heart tighten, “goodnight, Y/N.”
“Good night, Minho,” you murmur and dropping a last kiss atop your temple, you watch him walk away, raising a salute with his hand as he does so.
———
A/N: GAHHH IDK WHAT I WROTE AND I GAVE UP AT THE END I HOPE IT’S ALRIGHT BUT ANYWAY I’VE BEEN OBSSESSED WITH MINHO THESE DAYS.
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hugshughes · 9 months
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behind my back N. Moyle
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Nolan Moyle x Hughes!reader (Quinn’s twin)
synopsis - Luke finds out about your secret relationship with his captain, and he is not happy. He ends up causing your relationship to crumble under his emotions but soon is whipped back into shape and realizes the world doesn’t revolve around him, and that he should want your happiness, not try to end it.
wc - 2.9k
contains - reader is quinn hughes’ twin sister, suggestive themes close to the end, making out, kissing, shouting, lots of cursing (luke has a potty mouth), i made luke a bit mean for parts of this, crying, reader is shorter than nolan, mentions of eating/reader eats, lmk if i missed anything!
an - hey! first post on this new blog! i hope you like it, please don’t mind any errors this was slightly proofread, and i don’t love this but i warned to post something and noticed the severe lack of Nolan fics on here! (i kinda wanna make maybe a smutty part 2 so lmk.)
-
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Is the first thing you hear when you answer an incoming call from your little brother. Your face drops and Nolan must’ve noticed because he’s looking at you with a confused look on his face, mouthing ‘Are you okay?’ to you. You don’t respond to Nolan.
“What Luke? What’s up?”
You think you know what’s up. You have a gut feeling that what’s up is that you are in a relationship with his captain, a secret one at that.
“‘What’s up?’ Are you joking? You’re fucking Nolan behind my fucking back. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
You can’t respond, you don’t know how to. You open and close your mouth, making eye contact with Nolan again, who looks very concerned now.
“What? You can’t speak now? Your mouth won’t open? It was open fucking wide for my fucking captain, wasn’t it? God, what the actual fuck is wrong with you? You can’t keep your legs closed for one second, can you? Fuck!”
“Luke I- I’m sorry.”
You mewled out, he had just practically slut shamed you, there were tears all along your waterline, just waiting to fall off your lashes and down your face.
“Oh, you’re sorry? That’s nice, but it doesn’t take away the fact that you fucked him, does it? When he decides he’s done with you it could fuck up the team’s dynamic! Have you even thought about me for two seconds?”
“All I have done is thought about you, Luke! I wanted to tell you the second it started but I knew you would react like this! Like- like you would flip the fuck out! I really fucking care about him Luke, please just listen to me!”
Luke just wouldn’t stop, he kept shouting cruel things, and Nolan just couldn’t take watching you sit there, sobbing, while you’re brother used you as a punching bag. He grabbed the phone from your hand and put it to his ear.
“Hey Luke! Man-”
Luke scoffs, angrily laughing then huffing out a sigh.
“Of course she’s with you! What the fuck, dude?”
“Luke man please, neither of us planned for this to happen. We really fuckin’ care for each other. She’s been torn up about you not knowing for months, please hear us out.”
“‘Us’? Oh my God! ‘Us’? That’s fucking funny. I cannot believe either of you. God, fuck! When you two decide you're done having fun it’s gonna fuck shit up, big time. Fuck you, and her.”
Luke hung up the phone. You buried your face in your hands. Nolan put your phone down before he pulled you into him, his hand running up and down your back while the other cradles your head.
“I’m so sorry Nolan! I just fucked up everything, fuck!” He just shushes you, rocking the two of you back and forth on your bed.
-
It was three days later. Nolan called you last night and said how the last two days of practice had been shit, the tension very thick. He told you how he needed to put the team first with the upcoming playoffs, and how that meant he needed to be able to be the best captain he could be, meaning no bad blood between him and his teammates, so he broke up with you.
You have been so completely tore up. Laying in your bed in the dark in a sweatshirt you didn’t want to have to give back to Nolan. You hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday morning. The sun was beginning to set as you stared at your ceiling.
Your roommate has been an angel, talking to you, sitting with you, bringing you water, and offering you food. Luke had texted Jack about the situation, and Jack had texted Quinn about it, leaving the most mature of the Hughes’ boys to text you, and your mother.
Quinn had asked if you were okay, and felt terrible for you when you informed him of Nolan ending it because of Luke. Your mother had texted you, asking if you were alright, getting the full story from you before sending a long-winded message to your baby brother, reading:
“Luke Warren. I cannot believe the way you’ve treated your sister. Your words were not warranted in any way whatsoever. Have you noticed your sister’s level of happiness in the last 7 months? She went from always uninvolved and cut off from us to an absolute light of a girl. When I called and talked to her today she sounded absolutely broken down. When I say get your head out of your butt Luke, I mean it. Your sister deserves to be happy Luke, just as much as you do, and if you’re okay with taking that away because of a hypothetical problem that happens between her and Nolan, I am very disappointed. You better realize how ignorant you’re being and make this up to her. She loves you, Luke, so much. She is still the girl who let you sleep in her bed whenever you had nightmares, the girl that would shout at your brothers the second she saw you being left out. She deserves this Luke, and you need to realize that, because now Nolan’s broken up with her, and I don’t know if she is going to be okay.”
That being the first thing Luke saw on his phone after practice definitely surprised him. He let out a curse the second he saw his first two names in a text from his mother. The more he read, the shittier he felt. When he reach the end though, he was confused. ‘Nolan broke up with her?’ Was his only thought. He quickly looked around the locker room, trying to see if Nolan was still there, but he wasn’t. Nolan had felt like shit all of practice, Luke still barely talking to him. He left immediately after practice was over, going straight back to his place.
Luke cursed again, he got ready to leave and quickly walked back to the house so he could drive to your apartment. Once he got there he waited not so patiently before your roommate finally buzzed him in. He ran up the stairs and down the hall to your door, knocking loudly.
Your roommate let him in, not without mumbling ‘the fuck do you want, bitch?’ and rolling her eyes at him. She let him go back to where your room is, after making sure he wasn’t here to shout at you again.
You’re not surprised when you hear a knock on your door, but you are when you shout ‘Come in’ and see Luke standing in your doorframe. Your eyes widen, your heart sinking into your ass.
“Oh.”
It’s all you could say. You felt frozen, assuming Luke was here to be mad at you some more like he was over the phone. The more you look at him, you realize he doesn’t look mad per se, he looks like a kicked puppy.
“I’m sorry.”
You almost laugh out of surprise. You find it hilarious that he’s apologizing after the verbal abuse you took from him just three days ago. You don’t reply, looking him straight in the eyes, raising your eyebrows in expectation, needing him to say more.
“Shit, I- I am such a dick. It was so fuckin’ selfish of me to say that to you. I mean, yeah I would’ve liked to have known but uh, it was still so shitty of me. Please, please forgive me. And I know that I already fucked things up and that you probably won’t accept this but still, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking and when Grano accidentally mentioned you guys I just flipped out. The shit I said was wrong, I don’t think anything I said is true, I know it isn’t. I just, I’m so sorry.”
He looked absolutely pitiful. He was on the verge of crying. You stood from your bed and moved to him, wrapping your arms around him, he clung to you.
“Lu, don’t cry. Okay? It’s alright, what you said was shitty, but I should’ve just told you, alright? It probably would’ve saved a lot of screaming and tears. I’m glad mom got the stick out of your ass, huh?”
Luke lets out a teary laugh. Nodding into your shoulder, even though he was much bigger than you, he was still your baby brother. The way you were holding him made you think of when he was 5 and you were 7 and for six months he stayed in your room almost every night because he would have nightmares, and even if he didn’t have nightmares sometimes, he just felt safer with his big sister.
“‘M so sorry. Was gonna try to talk to Nolan after practice but he was already gone, so I just came here.”
You let out a sigh at the mention of Nolan. You were assuming that Luke doing this was also him telling you that he was okay with your relationship. But, after all the drama you weren’t sure Nolan would let you just run back into his arms.
“I dunno if it’s even worth it talking to Nolan, I don’t know if he’ll want to get back together after all this drama. He might just be good with it now.
Luke felt like absolute shit. None of this would’ve happened if hadn’t have been so irrational. He let out a sigh, pulling away from you.
“I am gonna go get you food, okay? I’ll get you tenders from Skeeps, huh?”
You laughed at your little brother’s effort.
“Lu, it’s Wednesday. Skeeps isn’t open.”
His face quickly fell. But he quickly shook it off.
“Whatever, I’m going to get you somethin’. Text me if you want something specific, okay?”
You nodded and laughed as he quickly left your room, saying bye to your roommate who after came to your room to see if everything was okay before hugging you.
Luke is gonna get you food, but he is also gonna call Nolan and apologize, and make him go to your place and be your boyfriend again.
The second he’s in his car his phone is to his ear, waiting for Nolan to pick up. He knows there is a chance Nolan won’t pick up, but he’s pushing that out of his thoughts. He almost gives up on the phone call but on what was probably the last possible ring, Nolan answered the phone.
“Uh hey man, what’s up?”
Nolan is very confused as to why Luke is calling him, knowing he’s barely sent him a glance over the last two days.
“Hey, Nolan. Bro, I’m so fuckin’ sorry. It was really shitty of me to say all those things to you guys and I was a real dick. I was acting totally out of nowhere because I was just really shocked I think.”
Luke took a pause, waiting for Nolan to say something before he took the conversation in another direction.
“Oh, um wow man. Yeah um it’s okay man, we should’ve told you. But uh, you know I broke up with her last night?”
“Yes I know, please go be her fuckin’ boyfriend again. She is so fucked right now. I didn’t even fucking realize how much happier she’d been recently, and now that I know you caused that, I can’t be the one to take that away from her. And I already talked to her about it but she was worried you might not like, want to be with her still. Bro, please go get her back.”
Nolan sits shocked. Shocked about Luke’s change of heart, and shocked that you believed he wouldn’t want you still. He stood from his seat on the couch of his living room and quickly grabbed his keys and put on his slides before practically running to his car, only wearing a tank top, sweatpants, and socks in the frigidity of January nights in Michigan. He says a few more things to Luke before he hangs up.
Nolan is barely thinking about anything when he parked in the lot of your building and was a little surprised at how quickly he was buzzed in.
Your roommate answered the door when Nolan quickly knocked, letting him in and telling him your whereabouts. You were surprised at how quickly Luke had gotten food when you heard a frantic knock on your door.
“You don’t have to knock Luke, just come in!”
“Uh, not Luke.”
You turned to face your door from your seat at your desk where you were lighting a candle, one Nolan had gotten you multiple times because you burned through them so quickly.
“Oh, Nol hi.”
Nolan standing in your doorway left you stunned, his grey sweatpants and black tank top that highlighted his huge arms made your mind go blank. You are thankful you spent a few minutes brushing your hair and cleansing your face after Luke left.
“Hey, um Luke called me, told me everything he told you probably.”
You suck in a breath, nodding. You stand and fully face him, but before you can even say anything, Nolan’s already wrapped his arms around you.
“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t’ve ended things. I was just so nervous about Luke hating me and being captain but I really should not have done that. I’m sorry baby.”
You held him, running your fingers through his long hair.
“‘S okay, baby. Made total sense okay? But, I think now that my brother doesn’t have his head in his ass, you should be my boyfriend again.”
He pulled away from your neck to look at you, now taller than you, looking down at you, which was so hot.
“Yeah? I think so too.”
The way he said it was, so hot. He is just so hot. He looks from your eyes down to your lips, and then back up, and you swear your knees almost buckled. And when he leaned in and kissed you, he was practically holding you up.
Even though you’d only been broken up for probably 26 hours, it felt like so much longer, and the sweet kiss quickly turned into a makeout session. You walked Nolan back until he was sat on your bed as you sat down and straddled him, not breaking your kiss.
Nolan’s grip on your hips is tight as his tongue slips past your lips, causing you to gasp. Your hands clutch Nolan’s dark brown hair, tugging at the locks when you feel the tent in his pants grow beneath you, pulling a groan from him.
Nolan was about to start rocking your hips against his hard-on when your door was practically thrown open, the knob on the other side hitting your wall. You immediately pull away from Nolan, almost falling off his lap if it wasn’t for his strong grip on the backs of your thighs.
When you both see Luke, Chick-fil-A bag in hand, standing frozen at your doorway you don’t know what to do.
“Fuck, Luke! Knock or something!”
You quickly stand up almost tripping over Nolan’s feet as you practically run over to your door, pushing Luke out and then standing on the outside of your door as you close it.
You stand, back pressed against your bedroom door as Luke looks at you with a look that would normally be funny, but right now you’re just a little pissed, flustered, and dazed. You both just stand, staring at each other. Both trying to grip the fact that Luke just walked in on your very heated makeout session with his captain, his captain.
“Oh my God, what the fuck? I think I’m gonna puke, yeah, I’m definitely gonna puke.”
You slap his arm, giving him a look that reminded him of your mom, which made him smile.
“I cannot believe you guys are... ugh. I cannot believe I brought you food just to see that when I opened your door, you are truly disgusting.”
“I hate you so much. You are the worst. What did you get me?”
Luke laughs out loud at that, giving you your food before he claimed he had to go so he could bleach his eyes before the sight of you and Nolan set into his memory. But after that, he hugged you and told you he loved you, saying that he’ll see you when you’re not being so gross.
You walk him out, shouting that you love him as he quickly walks down the hall of your apartment’s floor. You talk to your roommate for a minute, then decide it’s time to go back and see your man. The man in question is kicked back on the pink fluffy blanket decorating your bed, a sight to see.
“Hi, baby.”
“Hey, is he gonna be okay? Didn’t mean to give the kid trauma or anything.”
You let out a laugh, reassuring Nolan that your brother is just dramatic, and not traumatized. Then you snuggle up next to him, eating your Chick-fil-A and feeding your fries to Nolan as you both talk about everything, from what new song you wanted him to listen to, to making plans for the summer, him staying at the lake house for a few weeks, you coming with him to New York to meet his family, it was all so exciting. You’re definitely glad that the secret was out because now you can be with him, like really be with him.
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