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#one instance being that my mom was the one who felt with my hair most of the time then
simpjaes · 3 months
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FIRST DATE ETIQUETTE (p.sh)
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Park Sunghoon is not dull, nor is he the clean cut neighbor your mother thinks he is. Oh, the horrors of if she found out that the man she set you up on this date with immediately took you home and rendered you unable to walk...he'd never be able to defend himself without a swift slap to the head.
៸៸៸ minors do not interact! 
៸៸៸ PARING:  park sunghoon x afab reader
៸៸៸WC: 9.3k
៸៸៸ TAGS: mentions of food (meat), strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, brat taming, mocking and making fun of each other, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky sunghoon, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed
៸៸៸ A/N: what’s that? you’ve read this before? that’s bc i wrote it! I’ve revised the original now to fit sunghoon because I am insatiable in my lust for him. (original title: the bore next door)
smut tags under cut::​​​
SMUT TAGS: dom sunghoon, bratty/sub reader, huge cock agenda (again), he gets the best head he’s ever had, he calls you messy a lot (he likes it messy),  face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting,  dirty talk, wow i can’t believe I actually wrote a condom being used this time!!!!, sunghoon tries to make you moan because his horny brain wants your parents to know, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
23rd street. The restaurant is on 23rd street, and you can honestly say you’ve managed to hit every street but this one. From 13th to 35th, does the street in question even truly exist? Were you set up by your parents?
In short, you have been single since high school. Maybe a few flings here or there throughout college but you never truly settled on one man or woman in a relationship. You’re almost shocked that your parents are pushing so hard for you to find love. They want you to somehow feel the love from the movies, something like they had felt when they met. In this century, unfortunately, love isn’t quite as predictable.
 You can’t just pick a person who has a good job and a decent face and assume love will settle in someday. 
Not only is it not predictable but it isn’t a priority in your life. You have no interest in meeting the standard a man could hold for you, nor a woman, or family member. You’re here to exist in your own way, work your way up through the corporate food chain, and live in a home with over thirteen cats before dying a peaceful death in your late eighties. Why do you need a man to do any of this? Why do you need to settle for one cock, one set of hands, and one personality?
Right, because mom wants you to at least try to experience what love is. Surely, it’s just because she desperately wants a grandchild from her one and only daughter. Sorry to disappoint, but that will not happen any time soon. Children were never a thought in your mind, nor was marriage, a honeymoon, or a burial plot next to another person. Your mother knows this, but the least you can do is show some effort to please her, right? To prove that relationships just aren’t your thing, and you’d much rather have the funds to live a comfortable life all on your own.
23rd street is the small thumb tack on a map where there is a restaurant that holds a very, very, annoying arrangement. 
Your mother had really sold the idea to you. She says the nice neighbor boy next to her seems to be around your age, he brings her the mail sometimes. He seems to have a job, his own car, his own home that sits in a plot next to theirs. His lawn stays mowed, the siding on his house stays clean, and apparently he seems quite lonely considering your mother appears to have watched him enough to know he doesn’t bring any girls home.
At least that she’s aware of.
She doesn’t mention what he looks like and of course, when you’d asked because, in all honesty, that’s the most important thing to you if you’re going to get anything out of this, she simply states that he dresses well, is handsome, and has dark hair.
For all you know, she just set you up on a date with Antonio Banderas. 
What you weren’t expecting though, is to find this restaurant almost an hour late and walk in to find an already half-eaten meal in front of a man who looked at you as if you were any stranger on the street.
 A stranger you were, and so was he, but honestly, he is attractive. That alone made you feel a bit guilty for not having found this place sooner. The idea that the man in front of you did not wait for you shows that he also has priorities that aren’t you. This is probably a huge inconvenience for him too, if anything. 
Imagine your nice neighbor lady telling you to go to a restaurant to meet her daughter? God. The first words out of your mouth are an apology. Not for being late, and not for not even wanting to be here, but for your mother for even trying.
“Sorry about my mom,” you mutter, plopping down into the booth with a sigh. You eye over his food, already knowing that the check will likely be split. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Why the rush?” The man immediately says, pushing an untouched glass of water your way. “I don’t mind that you were late, I was just really hungry.”
You hum at him, waiting for the waitress to come over so you can place the most obnoxious order in the world because you’re really not in the mood to even look at the menu or the prices. Chicken strips and fries, obviously.
“So, what did you order?” You state, eyeing his plate. 
“Steak?” He says it like a question, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and it definitely is. Clearly there is a half-eaten steak that probably costs over twenty dollars on his plate. Still, you were just trying to make small talk.
The man says nothing after this, offering nothing but an awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t take long at all for you to stop caring about the entire arrangement, as if you cared in the first place.
“Look—” You try to offer, and the handsome man in front of you doesn’t even quirk a brow as he sips his own drink. “I don’t even remember your name, and I know my mom is trying to set us up but—”
“You’re not interested, and you have better places to be?” The man finishes for you as he sits his drink down with a gulp that makes much less sound than your own. “That’s fair. My name is Sunghoon, by the way.”
You nod at him, already deciding that you’ll get chicken strips somewhere else on your own so that you can eat them in the comfort of your own home, alone, without a stupidly handsome man in front of you that has, probably, less interest than you do.
“Well, I’m interested, and I don’t have anywhere better to be,” Sunghoon says, shooting his eyes up at you. “And to be quite honest with you, your mother was right. You are pretty.” 
Taken aback, you’re somehow comforted by his forwardness towards you. He acts just as uninterested as you do but counters that demeanor with his words. You can’t imagine that this is how the man picks up women, there’s honestly no way he would win that way. No wonder he is single.  Then again, you kind of do the same thing. You see an attractive person and you act much the same as Sunghoon right now. Uninterested in anything long-term but clearly interested in something. 
“I’m pretty, huh?” You laugh, sipping the water and internally giving this man an extra three minutes to fully sell the idea of this date to you. “Imagine my surprise to walk in and find that I was set up on a date with someone that is actually attractive.”
“Oh?” Sunghoon quirks a brow. “Is this how you return a compliment?” 
You shrug. 
“Is this how a date normally goes for you—you know, where you’ve already eaten your food and would probably rather pay and leave before she even gets a chance to order?”
“No,” he responds pointedly. “Would you rather me throw a tantrum that you were late?”
“You’d be a lot less dull if you did.” You throw back, eyeing a waitress as she heads over. 
Sunghoon watches as you place your order and watches a bit harder at the way you smirk at yourself through nearly everything you say. You must think you’re clever, you must think he’s willing to chase you or something.
“I’m dull?” He questions, staring you down with narrowed eyes when the waitress walks away. “You just ordered chicken strips at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”
You’re taken aback a bit, shaking off his little insults and sitting straight up. Interesting date, truly.
“Okay then, Sunghoon—” You say his name as if it’s a joke or something, but you don’t really let him react to it. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a systems software developer,” he deadpans, swirling his very nonalcoholic water in his hand. “Not that you’d know what that is or anything. And you?”
In all honesty, you don’t really know what that means, but it isn’t hard to figure it out. Assuming he must make programs or something, assuming he probably flew through college in order to do it in the way he seems proud of what he does. In all honesty, it still sounds like such a bore. He must talk in code or something in his free time. 
“I’m—uh—I’m a teacher.” You try to laugh, realizing that you’re kind of putting him down when he very clearly must make more money than you do. 
Only now does it set in that your mother stated he has his own home. One that sits directly beside theirs in a neighborhood that you grew up in. One that you tried to find your own home in but ended up in a shitty apartment in the city because it is all you could afford. Sunghoon must make good money. 
“Oh yeah? What do you teach?” He perks up in interest, no longer acting as if he is trying to insult you and instead offering conversation to you with such ease that you almost forget you’re supposed to be getting through the date in discomfort. 
“I teach everything, I guess. It’s just first grade. I swear, I teach them how to pull up their pants properly more than how to spell words.” You smile to yourself thinking of the loud and obnoxious children you teach five days a week. 
Your job is why you don’t want children though. Your job is why you’d rather stay single. All you hear about is how the third-grade english teacher is fucking the fifth-grade science teacher even though he has a wife who is pregnant with their second child. Sometimes you hear gossip about the students themselves. Who in their right mind as an adult would gossip about elementary school kids? It’s no wonder you’re not a favored teacher. You’re sure they’ve said something about you for not having a significant other or a child on the way too. 
Sunghoon smiles through your endearment towards your class, eyes perking up at the plate of chicken strips on their way to you. He doesn’t say much when you thank the waitress and doesn’t really pay attention to the way you devour the first strip in nearly one bite. 
“Seems like a lively job. I just sit around all day staring at a computer screen…” He begins to drone on about his own job, sounding more like background noise in your head if you’re being honest. You can barely hear him over the crunching of your chicken and you’re a bit thankful for that.
“And I think that it was really worth the—” You interrupt his long string of sentences with a call of his name. “Sunghoon, do you have any other interests?” You ask, sipping your water.
He deadpans at your rudeness of interrupting him. Sunghoon doesn’t often go out on dates, nor does he often get asked about these types of things so, he goes quiet, flicking his eyes down to his hands and then back up to you.
“I like to go hiking, I guess? Watching movies? Sometimes I like to cook—”
Ah. He’s one of those guys. 
“Those are like, the most common interests a person can have. You don’t have any special hobbies or weird quirky things you like to do?” You question, trying to see something in him past the fact that he’s nice to look at and has a decent paycheck. 
“I don’t really have the time to put into other things. When I’m not working, I’m busy cleaning my house or doing yard work since I’m usually too tired during the week to do it.”
“God, you are such a bore.” 
Sunghoon realizes now that maybe you’re not just throwing around banter. Sure, neither of you really wanted to come on this date but he could have used the time away from a computer screen to look at his neighbor’s daughter. If anything, it was an interesting offer, and those don’t come by him too often. He had seen photos of you. He knew you were pretty, and he also should have known you were a bit stubborn with the way your mother warned him before the date.
“If I was so boring, would I be sitting here on a date with a woman I don’t know?” He glares over at you. 
“I don’t know, probably. It isn’t the riskiest thing in the world. What? You don’t have tinder?”
Sunghoon looks down again, because no, he doesn’t have fucking tinder and he doesn’t understand why that matters.  “Why does that matter?” 
“Ah, so we are similar.” You smile to yourself in a small win, and you’re not even sure if it’s even an argument at this point. “No time for hobbies, so no time for dating either?” 
He nods slowly at you, completely confused by the way you go from picking his personality apart to finding some way to connect with him. 
“We can wrap this up then if you want?” You offer, still picking at the food on your plate. “I can pay for mine, so I release you from this arrangement.” 
He just sits there staring at you. What a peculiar woman. Do you really assume he isn’t somehow finding the fun in all of this? In all honesty, this date is going off without a hitch compared to many other dates he’s been on. He has never been on a date where he is criticized, nor has he ever criticized a date himself before.
 It’s almost kind of nice, like a breath of fresh air being able to meet someone who isn’t trying to show their best aspects. Someone who is sitting in front of him being as real as they possibly can be. Sure, you’re attractive, but your lack of interest in this date is somehow—flooring.
“What if I want to stay?” He makes eye contact with you. “What if I want to pay for your overcooked chicken?” 
“I’d be letting you win if you pay for me, but you’re free to stay.” You wave him off with your hand, realizing that the chicken is very dry and wasn’t hitting the spot like you’d been pretending. “So, what now then?” You add with a tilt of the head. 
“Admitting I’m interested in you?” He says it with so much confidence that you’re a little bit surprised, because this entire time you’ve been trying to act as uninterested as possible, despite finding some amount of attraction to Sunghoon.
“Poor you,” You coo, pushing your plate away from you and pulling your almost-empty water closer. “Okay, let’s try and make this worth something then.” 
Sunghoon prepares himself to listen, but honestly, he couldn’t have prepared for what you’re about to say to him.
“Neither of us are looking for anything serious right?” You ask, continuing after he nods. “So,” you pause briefly, thinking a bit too hard on how to word it. “Why don’t we just treat it like a tinder date?”
You’re definitely implying that the night could continue together, only to never speak of or see each other again after the sun rises. 
“Are you suggesting I bring you home with me?” He looks at you with a face you can’t really read. 
“Isn’t that what people do when they’re on a date, find each other attractive, but want nothing more?” You reiterate for him, because he seems to have trouble processing what you’re trying to get across to him. “Unless this isn’t your thing?”
Sunghoon pulls his hand up and pushes his hair out of his face for a moment. He’s thinking about it, barely even realizing that you’ve known each other for less than an hour.
“I didn’t take you for the type of fuck on the first date.” He cocks his head, looking at you in a lazy way.
It feels a little painful that the first curse word he says out loud is describing something that involves you and your offer. 
“I’m not, usually, but it has been a while for me and I can’t help but think we could have fun with it.”
He nods, eyeing you down. “Do you want to drive to my house then? Or do I need to bring you back to get your car?”
“Nah, I can drive. I know where you live, considering I grew up next door and all. I can just crash at my parent’s house once we are done.”
Sunghoon kind of shifts his eyes nervously, looking down at the table and then back at you with a lick against his bottom lip. “Speaking of, your parents—” He pauses, fiddling with his hands. “Look, they probably wouldn’t expect me to be the type to uh, get intimate with their daughter on the first date.”
“Only date,” you correct him, amused. “What, you thought we would meet again after this?”
Sunghoon waves you off dismissively. “That’s not the point. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I’m some fuckboy, and I’d rather them not find out because I’m sure your mom would slap the shit out of me the next time I bring her the mail.”
“Sunghoon—” You snort in a mocking tone. “My mom set you up on a date with me, you’re gonna take me home and show me a good time within an hour of meeting me. Imagine if she found out you’re not as sweet and innocent as she thinks–”
His face goes warm, but his eyes darken a bit as he looks at you. “Listen, I don’t usually do this.” 
“Well yeah, you seem too boring to actually have some fun.” 
Offense taken. 
And when he says nothing else to that, you speak up again, this time a bit more gentle. 
“Don’t feel like you have to. I can go home and we can pretend this never happened.”
“No, no,” Sunghoon assures, making eye contact with the waitress as if to silently ask for the check. “I could use the distraction.” 
He was slim when he stood up, obnoxiously attractive getting into his stupidly expensive car, and even the way he drove in front of you pissed you off. He drove the speed limit all the way to the familiar street of your childhood. What a boring, boring man.
When he pulls into his driveway, you aren’t sure if you should park at his house or your own. You realize if you park at either your parents will wonder why you’re parking in their driveway but not in their living room, or wonder why you’re parked in the clean-cut Sunghoon’s driveway because he would never fuck their daughter on the first date. 
You opt to park a block away, walking to Sunghoon’s house and feeling a bit silly for hiding. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Fitting,” you say as you step into his living room and scan the way he is entirely boring.
“What?” He asks from behind you, watching you judge his space.
“Very monotonous, very you.”
Sunghoon sighs at your constant critiques of him, but he’s smiling through it because you’re still here, and you’re the one who suggested coming home with him.
“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never brought a woman home just to have her insult me,” he laughs, stepping around you and placing his jacket on the end of the couch. “I can imagine that your place hasn’t been cleaned since you moved in.”
You glare at him, slipping your own jacket off and throwing it on his floor out of spite.
“I am a comfortable mess, Sunghoon, and you–” you scan the room once more, “are very clearly uncomfortable.”
He shifts his eyes for a second because, yeah. It’s not that he wouldn’t enjoy having colorful photos on the walls or a couple of knick-knacks lying around. Arguing about it isn’t your purpose for being here though, and he’d much rather skip the banter at this point.
“I can admit that your jacket looks good on my floor,” he takes a step forward, attempting to be as bold as he typically would be with a woman who knows how he is in bed. He’s never had to play off of his own cleanliness though. “I’m willing to make a mess of this house if you take more off.”
Oh, okay.
“Oh, so you can be interesting?” You mock him once again, reaching for the hem of your dress (yes, dress.) and looking at him. “You want to see my clothes on your floor?”
Sunghoon watches you intently, seeing your thighs being exposed more and more as the dress raises. His body is already reacting, becoming more attracted to your witty sense of displeasure toward his entire personality and lifestyle. After all, he’s a computer whizz and you deal with screaming children all day. He wonders why he expected anything less. Little do you know though, he fully intends to have you praising him before the night is up.
“I’d like to see you on my floor,” he answers, reaching for your dress and pulling it up further and above your head. “If I’m being honest, anyway.”
You were trying to go slow with the removal of your dress, mostly to see how he reacts to seeing a woman nearly naked in front of him but damn. You weren’t quite expecting how forward he’s being about it. Here you were expecting to be fucked missionary without any foreplay in a bed with all white sheets, right next to a washer and dryer, socks on, lights off. 
��Oh,” you gasp, slightly out of character in his opinion but his body reacts even more to that. He’s already allowing himself to get aroused so, naturally, his confidence is also bubbling up through each thought and word he decides to say to you. 
“What, you’re shocked?” He laughs, dropping your dress to the floor and scanning your body. “I can admit that I’m a little shocked too.” 
You look at him in confusion, moving your arms over your chest and wondering what the fuck he’s talking about. 
“You wore a matching set for a first date? With a complete stranger?” He mocks you this time, stepping even closer and running his fingers along the hem of your bra. You can feel the warmth from his thumb gently rubbing the skin as he does it and instantly your body tells on you in the form of goosebumps. 
“I’ll have you know,” you’re the one stepping closer this time, “I always wear matching sets, because I like to feel sexy.” 
You’re a liar. You definitely wore them just in case.
He hums, mere inches from your face as he looks down at you. It feels like he’s fucking looming, it feels like he must have his heat set too high or something.
 It gets even worse when his eyes don’t leave yours, but you feel his hand drop from your chest only to hear the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled. He stares at you while he does it, his hair falling in his face at the movement of what he’s doing waist down. For some reason, that does it for you, and you’re already rubbing your legs together as you stare right back at him. 
“I think that’s bullshit,” he smirks, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants and tossing that to the floor as well, and then he brings his face another inch closer, “and don’t think I can’t tell that you’re turned on.” 
You don’t back down, nor do you admit that he’s absolutely right. You just look at him, watching a strand of his hair fall in front of his eyes that are beginning to darken by the second. 
“I’m not turned on, believe me, it’ll take a lot more than–” You’re cut off by him planting his hand directly between your legs, two fingers pressing your panties slightly into you. 
“Hm?” He encourages you to say that again, but you’ve got your breath caught in your throat at his extreme change in demeanor.
Still, he’s looking directly at your face, watching the way you try to think of a lie. 
“You wanna keep pretending that I’m boring?” He asks, sliding his fingers up and pressing against your clit. 
You shake your head, finally dropping the act and blinking at him with empty thoughts. 
“That’s what I thought,” He ticks his tongue at you, now pulling his fingers away and showing you that even through your panties, his fingers are already soaked. “Now take the rest off.”
You do as he says, watching him step away with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. You note that he grabs a condom, which for some reason reminds you that you’re definitely about to get railed into the next dimension if that bulge behind those pants implies anything. 
Standing there with all of your clothes thrown around his living room, you watch him harder than you already had been. He’s slow when he sets the condom down on the table, and even slower when he walks up to you and places a hand on the top of your head before guiding you to sink down.
“Wha–right here?” You ask, feeling the clean carpet offer relief for your knees rather than the hard wood floors of the room over. 
“I said I wanted to see you on my floor, didn’t I?” He smiles, already admiring how shameful you’d appear to be if your parents saw you naked and on your knees for him. 
You nod, looking up at him. When you reach forward to actually lower his pants though, he steps back and continues to create distance between the two of you as he backs himself up to the wall and lounges against it. 
“Crawl to me,” he instructs, wondering if it’s too much for you but letting out a pleased sound of relief when you instantly do it.
Would you normally let a man tell you to do that? No. Would you ever actually listen to a man who speaks to you like this? Fuck no. You can’t defend your actions when you do it and you also can’t lie that you’re absolutely fucking dripping over it. Like, honestly, he’s going to have to deep clean this fucking carpet by the time you leave this house. 
When you reach him, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the very idea of him from this angle. You sit on your knees, lifting your hands to his pants and lowering them before he can try to draw the process out even longer. You can hear him let out a short chuckle at the way you try to be quick with it, and you already know he’s about to say some shit.
“I didn’t expect you to be this eager.” He talks down to you with a deep and raspy voice, one that sounds entirely sensual. In terms of what he says though, honestly, you shouldn’t expect much more considering how the two of you practically roasted each other before this very instant. 
You ignore his words, letting his pants drop to the floor and now reaching to pull his briefs down. You were incredibly unprepared for his size as you watched it stand stiff and raging in front of your face. Not a single hint of precum is seen, and it makes you feel kind of pathetic for how wet you’ve already gotten. It almost feels like a challenge now, to make him feel just as desperate as you do now. 
Thankfully, your throat is fairly trained for sucking men until they’re trembling. Hopefully, all those dudes you’ve fucked around with before come in handy and don’t let you down this time around. 
Sunghoon watches you from above, smiling over the way you stare at his length before finally touching it. He keeps his cool though, wondering how just over an hour ago you were ordering the worst food a restaurant has to offer, scoffing at his job, his hobbies, and now look at you. What a sight. 
“Go on,” he encourages you, pressing his hips forward so that the head of his cock hits your cheek, “let me see how messy you are.”
You roll your eyes at him, gripping the base before closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose. The very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. You’d think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he pushes his hips forward after four whole seconds.
So, he’s not going to guide your mouth, he’s going to hold it there? Okay, you guess. Thankfully, he’s not being super rough with it like you anticipated. If anything, he’s sliding himself into your mouth much as you’d do on your own. 
He hums out at the feeling of your inner cheeks hugging against his length, pressing in more and more with each thrust of his hips until he finally gets the majority of his length past your lips. He can see you breathe through your nose, but he doesn’t feel resistance at all so he presses his hips in even more, essentially until he’s blocking your airways and your throat is restricted around him in a gag. 
Instead of pulling your head back though, he feels your fingers grip the back of his legs, you’re trying. He holds your head there in place, feeling your throat massage his cock in probably one of the best ways he’s ever felt. 
“Shit,” he seethes out between a bite of his lip, “you’ve done this before?” 
The very thought of you letting your throat be used is enough for him to want to keep doing it, but hearing your response as a half-moaned gag vibrating around his length is a whole other story. 
He releases his hands from behind your head just to see if what he thinks you’re implying with those vibrations of sounds is right, and god is he thrown for a loop. You stay there, and even when he pulls his hips back before fucking into your throat once more, you still stay there.
He’s going to lose his goddamn mind because never has a woman been able to withstand this amount in their throat for this long for him. Enough to actually have him a little worried that you’re essentially suffocating on him. 
Sunghoon snaps his hips back, pulling out of your mouth and leaning down just a bit to grab your chin and guide your eyes up to him. 
“Breathe,” he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you’ve won some sort of award. He narrows his eyes at you, “You can choke all you want babe, but you’re gonna have to not be this cock drunk if you want to pretend that you’ve got the upper hand.”
That motherfucker. You’re trying to make him show just a hint of desperation for you and he completely flips the tables on you? 
Before you can even argue again, he’s guiding your lips back on him. You decide that it’s not over yet, he can talk down to you all he wants, but you’re going to be the one laughing at him by the end of the night. 
You allow him to place his hands back on your head, and you kind of like the weight of his cock on your tongue if you’re being honest, but god damn does he have a harsh rhythm. His hips snap languidly but he buries himself deep.  Even when you try to look up at him as your nose presses against his pubic bone, he’s looking down at you so casually. Like he feels okay. Just okay. 
This time, when he pulls his hips back, he doesn’t have to hold your head steady. You chase his length even as it tries to slide from your mouth, and you start to move your head back and forth in time with his hips. You finally receive a moan from him when you reach a hand up and cup his balls, massaging them in one hand as your saliva bubbles out from around your lips.
“So fucking messy–” he chokes out in a surprised moan, praising you for somehow making this feel even better than it already did. 
You hum around him again, feeling the weight of his cock pulse against your tongue and you start to taste more of his precum. Shamefully, you’re starting to want this more and more. You want him to call you messy, you want him to bruise your throat. You don’t mind, now that you’ve seen a snippet of what he’s like when he shows his pleasure.
Just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him. 
“Just like that, yeah,” his moans echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. When you gag, he moans again. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing.”
Then, he releases you and watches with a smirk at the way you pull back in a deep breath before wiping your mouth. 
You’re not sure why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel proud. Maybe it’s because he’s managed to pull out this weird, needy side of you, or maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good looking at you like this after the two of you spit insults at each other all night. 
“Do you want me to return the favor?” He asks, finally unbuttoning and removing his shirt.
Seeing him now, you stare at his chest and toned arms, wanting to grab onto them and feel him do whatever it is he wants to do to you. He, on the other hand, can’t tell if you’re nodding to his question or looking him up and down slowly. 
“You were so talkative earlier, what happened?” He smiles, stepping forward and falling to his knees himself, nudging your legs open in one go as he presses you back against his floor. “Do you want to fuck my tongue, or no?”
He continues to smile at your silence, eyes trained between your legs as he spreads them and then looks up at your face. “No?” 
You shake your head, leaning back on your elbows to watch him and take a breath in.
“It’s hard to talk when you’re like,” you motions towards him, “that.”
He chuckles, taking it as a compliment before snatching a pillow off of his couch and tapping your thigh to get you to lift up. You do so, allowing him to place the pillow under your ass before he settles himself there.
His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers start to trail to your core, slipping through your folds with such ease that your embarrassment shows plainly on your face. 
“Messy,” he compliments, lightly tapping against your clit before lowering his head and blowing softly against the glistening heat you offer to him. “Keep your legs spread for me, darling.”
You still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your slit, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he’s tasting. You’re not sure what it is about him but goddamn, he must know he looks good when he’s pleasuring a woman. 
Despite him asking you to keep your legs spread for him, it appears that he doesn’t trust you to do it because he’s still got one hand prying one of your legs apart and his head moving in all sorts of ways as he allows his tongue to lap every part of you besides your clit. Even his other hand, exploring and gently placing pressure against your entrance– the way he’s doing this makes you want to press forward, it makes you want to do exactly as he asked. 
You roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. You stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. You grind forward, he’s right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you. 
This time though, when you roll your hips back, he takes both hands and presses your legs open as far as he can get them, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. He nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. Now, he’s sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside to taste your plush and wet walls.
God, you’re gonna lose it. Even if you didn’t want to, you’d think the way he’s moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. You moan, pressing forward and back against his mouth as your own fingers fall to your clit. You rub when you press forward, feeling his warm and wet saliva drip from your slit and down to your ass, and you rub harder when you pull back, watching his eyes flutter open and still somehow manage to glare at you.
And just as soon as it started, you blink and his face is right there. You would have let out a shocked sound, because jumpscare much? But you moan instead, because he hovers over you with a smirk and an arm between the two of you, his fingers instantly sliding into you as he attaches his lips to yours with little more than a moan of his own. 
“Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks, licking against your lips and scissoring his fingers open inside of you.
You have, but for some reason it tasted better this time when he prods his tongue against yours. Perhaps it’s because it’s from him, or maybe it’s because you are a little obsessed with the way he navigates sex. 
When he pulls back from your mouth, now losing himself a little bit in the heat of the faces you make when you feel good, he can’t help but give you a moan along with your own. You sound so fucking good when you’re not talking your shit, and god he knew that mouth could do more than be annoying. 
“Open up,” he whispers against your lips, licking your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, “let me hear you.”
You can’t really help it. When you open your mouth, you’re practically panting for him. His arm is moving harshly as he fucks his fingers into you and causing you to nearly lose balance on your elbows, but he holds you there with his other arm wrapped around your waist, still licking against your lip and smirking when you still can’t say anything. 
“Louder,” He instructs, at least wanting you to moan louder for him if you’re going to act like this when he’s touching you. “Let your momma hear how good it feels, babe, go on.” 
Your eyes shoot open after that, and god, he is the fucking worst. Or maybe not, you can tell he does it on purpose. His fingers curling up inside of you and putting intense pressure against a spot that takes every man ages to find if they manage to even remember it.
“Sunghoon,” you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, “can’t you just fuck me already?”
He chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot. 
“Soak my fingers first.” He says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked. 
He continues to suck and bite against your nipple, and that sends shocks of pleasure straight down to where his fingers meet your g-spot. You could come right now if he’d just–
You roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. He moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath. It seems like you like not being able to breath, which is just fucking great for him. Your mom would be so heartbroken, honestly. 
“You think you can ride my cock like this?” He asks, popping your nipple out of his mouth and moving those bites up your neck and to your ear, “Think you can take it?”
You nod with heat rushing through your body, feeling his wrist stiffen up for your pleasure to grind against. 
Fuck, he can feel your cunt gripping his fingers as you work yourself up and it takes everything in him not to pull his fingers from you and absolutely bury himself into the tight heat you’re offering, but he holds back, pulling from your neck and watching the way your brows furrow and your mouth falls slack.
“Yeah, that’s it babe, ride it.” he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.
You shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. You feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit. 
“Let it go for me,” he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain. He moves further back and watches your body soak both him and his floor. “Fuck, yes, such a fucking mess.”
Well, that’s never happened before and the fact that you’re still orgasming is also new. You feel so sensitive, releasing in waves that offer little in terms of self control. Your hands shoot to his arm, gripping him so tightly as you try to hear his moans for you, but to be honest, you can’t hear a fucking thing through this wall of arousal in your head. 
Finally, you open your eyes and he’s just looking at you, smirking at the dripping against his legs and the wet spot on the floor. 
“Messy, messy girl.” He says with a chuckle. “Dirtying up my living room like this? Come on, get up.”
This is the first time Sunghoon has ever had a woman squirt for him, and honestly he’s been trying for ages to let someone experience this through him, goddamn was it sexy to see. You look absolutely fucking gone at this moment, and he might be fucking in love with the image. So badly does he want to see those shaking legs try to stand for him, so badly, does he want to see you fucking buckle.
“Come on,” he says again, not giving you enough time to even think about standing before he’s pulling you up on wobbling legs and pressing your toward the couch.
He watches how you wobble over, shuffling your feet with your knees turned inward with each step. He can’t help but lick his lips, seeing how your arousal drips down both of your legs in a shameless show of how much his fingers alone could do for you. 
“Sorry,” You rasp out as you make your way over, brain fogged from the orgasm and unable to feel much at all outside of the pulsing inside of you. “I’ve never–”
“Don’t worry, I like the mess.” He smiles, snatching up the condom and tearing the wrapper open with ease before rolling it down his length, staring at you.
Oh, right, he still hasn’t even fucked you yet. Fuck, he’s good.
He sits himself next to you, pulling an arm around your waist and guiding you on top of him. He doesn’t even think twice at your shaking legs, soothing them as you follow his hand and position yourself against his long neglected cock being held up with his other hand. 
“Gonna keep that promise?” he asks, still smoothing his hands over your legs and looking up at you. “Gonna take my cock better than you did my fingers?” 
You nod, feeling a pulse of electricity inside of you. Willing you to take more, wanting to be stretched further.
Besides, you know that once you’re seated with his length fucking impaling you, you’ll at least have his broad shoulders to hold onto if you need to stay steady.  
And when you sink down, you hear the sound you’ve been trying to pull from him all night. He lets out a soft moan, almost a whimper if you think hard enough about it, and it ignites a brand new fire in you as you take him in inch by inch. Feeling the searing stretch offer a bit of pain despite the sheer amount of wet you have collected between your legs. 
He can feel you clench around him in the attempt to adjust, and your legs shaking only offer even more in terms of pleasure as you envelope him entirely with your heat. He can’t help but moan, almost unable to keep up his dominant persona with a pussy so sweet wrapped around him. God, he loves blind dates, honestly. 
“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both of his hands now against your thighs as you sit yourself flush against him and wait to adjust to his size, “I definitely like you.”
You fall forward with a small laugh, the irony of the situation a bit too much on top of your mind falling helplessly and embarrassingly fast at how lucky you are to have a mother to set you up with such a man. 
He’s a bit soft at this moment, wrapping both arms around your waist and listening to your breathless laughs against his neck. Loving the way each inhaled chuckle forces your body to squeeze his cock delightfully tight. 
God, You’re pretty, and so fucking annoying. Just his type. 
“I’m still going to fuck you senseless though.” he finally says, feeling your body still at his words as you lift a bit, just to slide back down on him.
“Is that a promise?” You ask weakly, pretending that he didn’t already manage to do it with his hands alone. 
He nods, the softness in his eyes disappearing instantly when he feels the drag of your cunt hug his length. He doesn’t hold back his moaning for you this time though, and he shows no shame in slapping your ass, and guiding you even closer to his chest. 
You stand on your knees a bit on top of him, watching his eyes zone in on your tits in his face. Hopefully, he’s going to keep that promise too.
His hips snap up harshly as his hands grope your ass and spread you apart. He snaps his hips again and again, nearly pulling his entire length out of you each time just to fill you up once again. Stretching you open and loosening you up, the pleasure of it hitting him right in the throat each time with small grunts against your nipple when you bounce at the movement. 
You whimper out, the sounds still echoing throughout his house along with the sounds of your thighs slapping against his. His grunts are deeper, and all of the sounds together sound like a desperate soundtrack of what you’ve always wished sex was like. He fucks you good, despite your legs still shaking, and despite the pain of his teeth biting against your skin now. 
You can’t help it when you fall forward again, hugging around his head as he starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. His thick cock easily pressing against that same spot his fingers had been teasing earlier. You choke out at the feeling, legs jolting and causing you to sit again out of sensitivity.
He doesn’t falter at your failure to stay in position for him, and instead he gropes your ass harder, swirling your hips around him. You can feel how hard he is inside of you, splitting you open and pulsing at a near constant pace. 
“Ride it,” he instructs, much like he did with his fingers and you follow suit, lifting just slightly and sliding back down again. “Harder,” he demands, pulling his head from your grasp and looking up at you with a wild smirk. 
You look down at him, wondering how pitiful you must look up here. He appears to be loving it though, absolutely in love with the way you struggle to do what you swore you’d be able to. 
Trying again, you begin to bounce on him and he grants you his fingers on your clit for that, moaning at your own choice of rhythm and leaning forward yet again to pop his presumed favorite nipple back into his mouth.
The ministrations of his fingers paired with his mouth sends you spiraling once again into a world of pleasure. The shaking in your legs become more of a driving factor than anything as you ride him better than you’ve ever ridden anyone.
Finally, he’s the one moaning out and trying to string together choked words of praise.
“Your grip is so tight,” he mutters out, kissing up your chest and to your neck, “i can fucking feel you dripping down my legs.” He adds in a moan, losing himself in the way you move your hands through his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck. He wants to ruin you so badly, and he’s already drenched in you. He wants more. 
You knew you’d have him just as desperate as you by the end of the night. Now look at him, muttering out strings of curse words as you do nothing but ride and pet him. He’s melting under you, and you’ll be damned if he comes before you get that second orgasm. 
Shooting your hand to your clit to replace his lazy movements, you work yourself up to your second orgasm and he just watches you, taking in the image of you practically riding him into oblivion until you’re clenching even tighter around him, throwing your head back and shooting your hands to his shoulders as you harshly roll your hips into his. You’re working yourself through it when he starts pumping into you again, short and tight thrusts pushing you through your orgasm until he’s gripping you equally as hard, holding you down on him as he spills out and into the condom in more of a purr than a moan.
You watch him, dazed out of your fucking mind as he bites against his bottom lip and slowly blinks through his orgasm as you. Part of you wishes he just did it raw, wanting so badly for him to make a mess of you like you did to him.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You find yourself with him at your parent’s house just a week later, eating lunch in the chaotic mess of your mother’s kitchen. It’s funny, really, how he’s trying to be polite to her as if he’s not about to take you next door and probably fuck you against an open window just to blow his own cover.
“I told you he was a keeper,” your mother compliments him as she lays a plate of croissants on the table. “Just yesterday he offered to mow our lawn when we head off for vacation this weekend!”
She’s praising him much like you wouldn’t, and you kick him under the table for trying to suck up to her even more now that he’s fucked you several times already. 
“Did he now?” You ask, glaring over at him and then smiling sweetly at your mother. “Guess he is kind of a keeper, maybe.”
His eyes shoot to you and he smiles around his bite of croissant at you. 
“You were right though,” he counters you towards your mother, “she’s definitely a handful.”
Your mother crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking between the both of you. 
“How many dates have you been on without telling me?” She asks, looking at you.
“A few…” If she considers it a date to meet up and fuck every other day this week.
“We had lunch a few days ago.” he adds, backing you up. It’s just that the lunch wasn’t exactly like–you know, at a restaurant, and if she knew that cum was on the menu, perhaps you both would be slapped shitless. 
“So, are you guys going to be exclusive, or?”
Sunghoon looks at you curiously, and you look back at him. 
“I dunno, it’s only been a week, Mom.”
She nods, clapping once before pushing off of the counter and leaving the kitchen. 
It’s silent between you and Sunghoon for a few moments before he speaks up.
“I wouldn’t be against it.”
“Against what?” You ask, looking at him with a raised brow. 
“You know, like, dating. I can’t imagine anyone actually putting up with you besides me, anyway.”
You kick him again from under the table, causing him to wince out in pain before glaring at you. You smile in return though, giving him a shrug and now rubbing your foot against the bruise you probably just caused. 
“I find myself agreeing with that statement,” You laugh thinking hard about your next words. “But for some reason, agreeing with you pisses me off more.”
Sunghoon nods, smiling through the pain of the bruise forming on his shin. 
“Good thing I know how to fix that, huh?” He finishes the conversation, fully aware that he knows how to shut you up and make you love it. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
2K notes · View notes
weirdkpopgirl · 3 months
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My Last | Jaemin Fic #3
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Title: My Last
Genre: College AU
Warnings: mentions of anxiety, self-harm, family problems. please do not read if those topics make you uncomfortable
Word Count: ~16k
Author's Note: Here is the part two/sequel to my Renjun story (My First). I literally started writing this a few years ago and didn't finish until now. Honestly, I wanted to give up on this story because I don't like it very much. But I thought I should for those who read the first story. I still hope you guys like it ^ ^
If you haven't read the first part of this story you can read it here
𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪
Kim (Y/n) thought leaving it all behind would make her happier. But the past two years showed her that running away from her problems couldn't change anything. She and her father moved to his hometown, Busan. She found herself in a different city, a different neighborhood, a different house, and a different high school, marking a fresh new start for her. Maybe she was too optimistic at the beginning.
The students at her new school quickly singled her out as the pathetic transfer girl with divorced parents. No one made an effort to talk to her. But she wasn't too fazed by it. After what had happened at her previous school, she wasn’t willing to get close to anyone again.
Time passed, and she focused on her studies as she had always done. The household was less chaotic with just her dad and herself. They were both quiet people who barely talked to each other, and she wasn't bothered much by that either.
Deciding before she graduated wasn't as stressful as it could've been. After passing the CSAT exam, a few acceptance letters rolled in. She was only able to get one scholarship from a college in Seoul, covering most of her tuition and dorm living expenses.
In the next few months, she was back to where she had started.
Things would be different this time, she told herself. Returning to her hometown didn't mean she was going to encounter anyone from her past, at least if she tried hard enough. But she was wrong.
Her mom, the woman she had hoped to never see again, reappeared in her life. She didn't seem to have changed since the last time they had seen each other. Perhaps driven by a lingering sense of guilt, she found herself compelled to check on her mother's well-being. Yet, she sometimes felt like she was reliving her childhood again. Except this time she was the parent, and her mother was the child.
Her mother's moods were unpredictable, fluctuating between highs and lows. Despite enduring numerous instances of being screamed at, (Y/n) recognized the importance of not being selfish. Ultimately, she was her mom, and (Y/n) was her only daughter. In the end, she was all her mother had.
In addition to her college commitments, she took on a part-time job to earn some money. She picked up a barista position, where she worked throughout the week. Oftentimes she left shifts with the scent of coffee clinging to her hair.
"Hey, you know that customer over there?" Her coworker pointed something out to her one day.
Hesitantly, she looked in the direction her coworker was gesturing to. A boy who looked about her age was sitting at the table near the front window, with another guy across from him. He had short, light brown hair with bangs that made him appear younger. She couldn't deny that he was attractive.
"What about him?" She asked, glancing back down at what she was doing before.
Her coworker nudged her elbow. "I think he might be interested in you. He only comes on the days you're working here."
Out of curiosity, she looked back up to see the slight surprise in his expression when she did, but it was immediately replaced with a smile.
"He's pretty good-looking too!" Her coworker gushed. "What if he asks you out?"
She laughed and rolled her eyes. There was no chance she was going to let herself be charmed by a stranger who she had only seen a handful of times. Besides, she couldn't fathom that a guy would like her.
Despite how her coworker faltered at her lack of interest, she shook her head and didn't bother to look at him again.
"Yeah, like that would ever happen."
┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦
She worked at his favorite coffee place on the weekends. But the café wasn't the only place he had seen her. She didn't seem to notice that they attended the same college. Her name was Kim (Y/n), a first-year student at Myung-guk University. They were both freshmen, so he had seen her in a few of his general education classes.
Jaemin didn't know when exactly he caught feelings. All of a sudden, he just found himself paying more attention to her. With the few chances he got to see her, he used them to take in her features. She had long, chestnut brown hair with bangs that brushed over her forehead. Her eyes were a few shades darker than her hair. She didn't wear any makeup, as the majority of her face was covered by the round, silver-rimmed glasses she wore. She always dressed so neatly, making her overall look fairly minimalistic.
Something about (Y/n) was different from what he was used to seeing. Unlike the other girls who swooned over him every time he passed by, she didn't even bat an eye. In class, she rarely spoke to anyone and always kept to herself in a reserved manner. She seemed disinterested in what everyone else was doing.
At the coffee shop, she was mostly the same. But she was kind to the customers and efficient in her work. Part of him was glad she was always so focused. She had yet to catch him admiring her from afar.
“Why don't you just ask her out already?” Jeno lightly elbowed him.
He was nice as a best friend and roommate. But he didn't know a thing when it came to romance.
Shaking his head, he took another sip of his black coffee. “Not yet, Jeno. It's too soon.”
When he turned to see her again, she was looking at him. He thought it was the first time she had properly noticed him. Trying not to stress too much, he sent her a smile. But instead of smiling back, she shook her head and walked to the back room.
However, he refused to let this one interaction discourage him. He had this gut feeling that told him she was the one for him.. It didn't matter if he had to wait. Good things came slowly, so one could treasure them more.
(Y/n) was like this puzzle, waiting to be put together by the right person. And Jaemin was confident that person was going to be him.
┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦
Since that day, she became more aware of the attractive customer. Once she got a better look, she recognized him from somewhere.
She was pretty sure his name was Na Jaemin. She hadn't realized that they were in the same grade. As if things couldn't become any more peculiar, he was also in a few of her classes. She guessed she had been too focused on staying in her bubble to notice.
Jaemin was talked about quite a bit on campus. Of course, for all the reasons that didn't surprise her. He was charming, the girls couldn't seem to stop whispering about him, and all the guys wanted to be his friend. Other than that, she didn't know much about him, nor did she have the desire to.
From her impression, he was probably just one of those guys who dated too many girls and had a big ego. Maybe she was judging too quickly. Regardless, she decided she wanted nothing to do with Jaemin. He could stare at her all he wanted to at work. But he wasn't going to get a reaction from her. At least, that was what she had told herself.
"One iced americano!"
Her head was down in an attempt to avoid eye contact when she called his order. She heard the chair being pushed back and his footsteps coming closer to the counter.
"Ah, perfect every time," He sighed after taking a sip. His voice was a lot deeper than she had expected. Gesturing the drink to her, he smiled. "Thank you!"
Barely looking at him, she nodded and was relieved when he didn't say anything else. She thought that would be the end of what was barely a conversation. But then in the following week, he came again at his usual time, which was before noon. Rather than taking his drink and thanking her as usual, he stuck around a little longer.
"You're Kim (Y/n), right? I've seen you a few times at university."
Trying to get out of the conversation as soon as possible, she looked up at him and nodded. "Was there something else you needed?"
"Well, not exactly," He gave her that same smile from the last time. "I just wanted to ask if you're perhaps free after you get off of work?"
"Sorry, I have something to do today," She lied, immediately turning him down.
"Oh," His tone deflated. "That's fine, I understand. Another day, maybe?"
She sighed. Why was this guy so persistent?
"Excuse me, but you are a stranger to me, and I think we should keep it that way."
"So…you're saying no?"
"No," She said without thinking and quickly facepalmed. "I mean yes!"
Jaemin laughed, "I see you're a bit confused. I'll just ask next time."
"Wait, don't-" She started to say. But to her dismay, he had already left with his coffee.
She tried not to panic over what happened. Maybe he'd forget about it all when he came by again. But who was she kidding; he probably wouldn't.
A few days later, she was quickly packing up to leave class. Jaemin was there, which made her more nervous than anything. Luckily, he didn't seem to pay any attention to her during the lecture.
But when she went to grab her phone, she noticed a small blue sticky note that wasn't there before.
It would be nice to get to know each other, right? (˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)
She was glad he wasn't there to see her cheeks turn pink when she saw his phone number attached. Why was he doing this? Was he targeting her as his next girl to play with?
She didn't know, and she didn't want to know the answer. Crumpling the paper in her hand, she threw it into her bag and spent the rest of the day trying to shove what happened out of her head.
┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦
Even though she had refused him once already, Jaemin wasn't going to give up. He knew that pursuing (Y/n) wouldn't be easy, but the challenging aspect made things fun. She could put up as many obstacles as she wanted, and he was fully prepared to jump over one after the other.
It was so cute to see her get flustered when he talked to her. She may not think much of him right now, which further motivated him to prove to her that he had good intentions.
Jaemin saw her in the cafeteria one day, sitting alone at the table near the big windows. This was the perfect opportunity, he thought to himself. Without any hesitation, he quickly ordered his lunch and went to stand by the seat across from her.
"It's okay if I sit here, right?"
(Y/n) looked at him as if he was some newly discovered alien. Her eyes scattered around the other people around them who gave looks and made unnecessary whispers. He was used to ignoring them as much as possible.
Don't get him wrong, he thought it was nice that so many people at college admired him, especially since he was just a freshman. But he couldn't help but get slightly annoyed when people tried to hang out with him and acted all fake.
Before she could answer, Jaemin already set his lunch tray on the table. Once he sat down, he smiled at her.
"You and I must think alike," he gestured to their choices of meals for today, which was fish cake soup with udon noodles.
Her fingers tightened around her chopsticks. "Jaemin, why do you keep doing this to me?"
"What do you mean?" He asked and picked up his own utensils to eat.
"I'm not sure what your intentions are," she cleared her voice, "But I can assure you won't get far with a nobody like me."
He would've thought she was joking if it weren't for the bitterness in her tone.
"A nobody? Is that what you see yourself as?"
She nearly choked on her food when he asked her that. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, unsure of how to respond. Thankfully, she wasn't forced to answer when someone interrupted.
“Jaemin, finally I found you!” It was a boy with dark-brown hair and facial features that reminded her of a puppy.
Now that she thought about it, she had seen him on a few of Jaemin's visits to the cafe. She didn't know that he attended this college too.
The guy came over to sit in the empty seat beside Jaemin. So much for having a quiet lunch. The boy looked at her with a sense of familiarity.
"Oh! You're the girl from the coffee shop, right?"
Suddenly forgetting how to speak, she merely nodded. The friendliness in his eyes didn't disappear. "I'm Lee Jeno, an architecture major. I'm also Jaemin’s friend."
"What are you doing here?" Jaemin asked.
"I just got out of a class and wanted to find you. But it seems you're busy."
The light-haired boy turned back to her with an adoring smile. "Well, I’m having lunch with (Y/n). Jeno, isn't it funny that we got the same meal? We already have so much in common!"
Jeno smiled apologetically, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Ah, Jaeminie is a bit weird. Please understand, (Y/n)."
A smile crept onto her lips when his own friend said this. She wondered if Jaemin was going to retort with something back, but his attention was on her.
"Oh, she smiled!"
Instinctively, she clamped her hand over her mouth. "N-no, I didn't."
"Ah, cute. Isn't she cute, Jeno?"
His comments didn't do anything to help the heat that had risen to her cheeks. Jeno shook his head at Jaemin and pushed his chair back.
"Well, I should go to my next class. I'll see you at home later."
He waved to her after getting up from the chair. "It was nice meeting you, (Y/n)!"
She waved back, as it was the polite thing to do. Her panic mode was restored now that his friend was gone. Jaemin looked at her with a concerned expression.
"Are you feeling alright? You've barely touched your food."
She glanced down at her lunch tray. The steaming bowl of noodles was staring up at her. Eating had disappeared from her brain momentarily after Jaemin arrived.
"I'm fine. Just not as hungry as I thought I was," she muttered, placing her utensils down on the table.
That didn't seem to convince Jaemin, but he didn't say anything about it. He folded his arms and leaned forward. "Right, what were we talking about before?"
Dang it. She was hoping he had forgotten their previous conversation, though the chances were unlikely.
"I understand why you might be skeptical about me," his voice deepened. She wondered if he always did that when he wanted to be serious. "But I'm going to do what it takes to prove you otherwise, (Y/n). Just watch!"
No one had approached her the way Jaemin was. It didn't make her any less suspicious of him. Whatever he was going to do or planning to do, she couldn't let him get to her. Over the past two years, she had become more strong-minded. She wasn't going to let anyone easily in again. Following that, Jaemin could try to get through to her. But he would fail.
Because she wasn't going to let it happen.
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Jeno and he had been gaming late into the evening. Close to eight, Jaemin decided to take a stroll to the cafe where (Y/n) worked, thinking of grabbing some coffee. The quiet streets under the night sky provided a calm atmosphere.
Upon arriving at the cafe, he spotted her through the window, wearing her cafe uniform. A small smile formed on his lips, but it quickly faded as he heard a commotion inside. The sound of an escalating argument caught his attention.
Inside, a man stood at the counter where (Y/n) was working. There was a tense exchange, and the man seemed insistent on something. Jeno's protective instincts kicked in as he noticed (Y/n) trying to reject his advances.
"I told you, I'm not interested," she said firmly, attempting to maintain her composure.
"Come on, why not give me a chance?" the man persisted, a hint of aggression in his tone.
She bit her lip in frustration, but tried to maintain her professionalism. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm not looking for anything right now."
The man's demeanor turned hostile, and he reached out to grab her hand. Jaemin, sensing trouble, swiftly stepped in.
"She said she's not interested. Respect that," he stated firmly, casting a disapproving glance at the persistent man.
Startled, the man recoiled, shooting a defiant look at Jaemin. Ignoring the confrontation, Jaemin focused on (Y/n), offering her a reassuring smile. Bewilderment clouded her expression.
"Yah, who do you think you are to involve yourself?" The man scoffed.
"I don’t want any trouble," he said in a low tone. "But you should back off, if she said no already."
The guy scowled, and before he could react properly, he punched him. "I swear, kids these days think they're all that."
Lifting his hand to where he hit him, he was grabbed by the collar of his hoodie. As much as he loathed the guy, he didn't want to fight back because he was older. Thankfully, (Y/n) had come in between them before he could hit him again.
"Stop or I'll call the police!" She warned, holding up a phone in her hand. "You'll be charged for harassment and assault."
In response, he snarled but let go of him. At least he wasn't an idiot to see she was serious.
He pointed at her and him as he made his way to leave. "Consider both of you lucky today."
They both watched as he left grumbling. He was expecting to hear a sigh of relief. But instead, she didn't appear to look any less frightened.
"Oh no, you're bleeding." Her eyes widened with apprehension. She reached her hand but dropped it after a brief hesitation. She headed back behind the cash register.
"Wait outside. Let me find the first-aid kit."
Jaemin couldn’t suppress the smile that crept on his face. But he thought it was best to listen this time. 
The anxiousness in her eyes didn't disappear as she sat in the chair across from him. She still somehow managed to keep her hand steady as she tended to where he was injured. Other than his mother, no girl had ever looked so concerned for him. He tried to maintain some seriousness, rather than thinking about how cute (Y/n) was.
Once she cleaned the blood off, she raised a cotton swab dipped in ointment to his lips. He hesitated, not because he didn't trust her. He guessed he was a little nervous for some reason. But before she could take her hand away, he leaned forward. She winced with him as she dabbed the medicine on his bottom lip.
"I'm sorry,” she apologized.
"It doesn't hurt that much," he said. 
But she shook her head. "Not just that. You got hurt because of me."
"Anyone would've done the same if they were in my place."
"I'm not so sure about that," she disagreed, putting the cotton swab down. "But, thank you."
This was a different side of (Y/n) that he was seeing. But it wasn't anything that he hadn't expected. Even though she pretended not to, she secretly cared. 
"Does this mean you’ll go on a date with me now?" he half-joked, pointing to his busted lip. "To pay me back for this?"
“What—No!” He had to admit, seeing the change in her expression was quite amusing. 
She pointed toward the free coffee she made him. “Is this not enough?”
He sighed and tilted his head slightly. “Can we be friends at least?”
She didn't say anything but looked like she wasn't going to fight him on this.
“I'll take your silence as a yes.” His phone then buzzed in his pocket.
Oh, shi— he forgot about Jeno. "Ugh, I have to go back home." He stood up, grabbing the cup of coffee she made him.
But he didn't forget to wave at his friend. "See you tomorrow, (Y/n)!"
Smiling to himself, he pretended not to see the startled expression when he called her informally. She then smiled and shook her head again.
One point scored for Na Jaemin!
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That evening back in her dorm, (Y/n)’s head dropped to the desk in frustration. She couldn’t stop thinking about what happened the other night. 
She didn’t want Jaemin to see her as easy now. Then again, he did save her from that customer. She wanted to say he shouldn’t have stepped in. But truthfully, she didn’t know how worse the situation would have gotten if he didn’t come in when he did. She had been so afraid of the situation that her whole body was shaking when she threatened to call the police. But she wished she had acted faster before he got hit.
She hadn’t realized how serious Jaemin was about them now being “friends” until the next time she saw him. He’d wave to her when he saw her come into class and continued to eat lunch with her if she was in the cafeteria. He didn’t stop coming to the coffee shop, and started doing his homework there. 
In the beginning, she was quite reluctant. Her social awkwardness had gotten worse, and she wasn’t sure how long he would last being around someone like her. What she didn’t expect was Jaemin not being great at keeping conversations either. While he did start most of them, it seemed that sometimes he’d lose his thoughts and pause. That was when the silence filled in the gap he left.
But he kept persisting, and she had a feeling Jaemin wouldn’t get off her case anytime soon. Her heart was screaming at her, because it was clear that he was putting more effort into their “friendship” than she was. On the other hand, she barely said anything.
Due to her guilty conscience, she eventually stopped using one-word answers when he asked her something. On occasion, she would ask a question back. Slowly, she started to relax when she was around him. But those casual conversations were all Jaemin would get from her. There was an invisible line she had drawn between them, that she had to make sure he wouldn’t cross.
She started to like the days when he came to the café the most. He’d come in and instantly look for her behind the counter. She didn’t understand how someone could consistently be enthusiastic when they came to the same place nearly every day.
He ordered the same thing every time. So much so that it was practically ingrained in her memory. It was always a venti iced-americano, with no water but only ice. In addition, she’d add four extra shots of espresso. She refrained from questioning his order. But she wasn’t sure how anyone could drink so much coffee. However, that did explain how he had so much energy all the time.
Jaemin would come in the morning to purchase his daily drink. Strangely enough, he’d sometimes come back in the evenings when things were slow. He said it was because he thought she might be lonely. Oftentimes, he’d wait for her shift to be over and walk her home. She had resisted at first, but Jaemin had good persuasion skills.
On one of their walks, Jaemin casually asked a question that nearly made her freeze in place.
“Have you ever dated anyone?” His tone was casual. But she could tell he wasn’t trying to flirt with her.
“No,” she replied. In hopes of subtly changing the subject of this conversation, she turned the question to him. “Have you?”
He hesitated briefly before nodding, “Once, a few years ago.”
For some reason, she had expected him to have been in many relationships. With a face like his, she wouldn’t be surprised. She guessed she had judged him too harshly.
“Do you mind me asking what happened?”
She wasn’t sure what brought her to ask. She felt like a similar memory was replaying in the back of her head.
“I was in high school, and I had a crush on this girl in my class,” He started to explain. “It was easy at first. One day I confessed to her and we started dating.”
Jaemin made it all sound so easy. But when the frown on his face didn’t leave, she suspected things were more complicated. She didn’t say anything and let him continue.
“I remember trying really hard to make her happy. She always wanted me to buy her stuff and hung out with a lot of guys. Eventually, I started to feel like she was just using me. So I broke up with her.”
A short silence followed his last sentence. Even though she was afraid the conversation would go in the same direction it did with…
She still asked, “How do you feel now? Do you still think about her?”
“Honestly, I haven’t thought about her once until you asked.”
“Why?” Her eyebrows raised.
He chuckled, “Because I have no regrets. No one should feel insecure in a relationship. That’s why I chose to end things.”
She didn’t expect him to say that. A part of her didn’t want to believe him. But he didn’t appear to be lying. She wasn’t fazed when he told her all this. However, on that day, she felt slightly more daring. She thought it was only fair that she shared a little bit.
“There was a boy I had feelings for back in high school. He was my first love, I guess,” she said, the words escaping slowly. “I really liked him. But it…didn’t work out.”
She didn’t want to get into the details of her pathetic story. Even though two years passed, she could recall his exact words and how he delivered them. They still stung. Just thinking about it again nearly caused her to forget Jaemin was next to her.
“First loves are usually like that,” he expressed sympathy. “I’m sorry that happened.”
You forced a smile, swiftling pushing aside the resurfaced emotions. “It’s not a big deal. I…I’m sorry too—about your past girlfriend.”
“It happened so long ago, and I was just a dumb teenager,” Jaemin admitted, lowering his head.
A few seconds of silence passed between them. In an attempt to dispel the awkward atmosphere, she gently nudged him. “I guess we both have bad luck with love, huh?”
She wished his next works didn’t make her heart flutter.
“I have a feeling that our luck is changing. For both of us.”
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It was difficult for Jaemin to suppress a small sense of satisfaction as she waved to him before entering her apartment building. Following today's events, it felt like (Y/n) had taken a step closer to him—some might argue it was barely a foot. But for Jaemin, that was more than enough.
Upon returning to his home, the lights were on in the empty living room, indicating that Jeno had left them on for him. After slipping off his shoes, Jaemin sought out his roommate in the bedroom, where he found him engrossed in playing a video game on his computer.
Besides Jeno, Jaemin didn't have many friends, but he knew Jeno was someone who would always have his back. It was Jeno who had suggested they move into an apartment before college, considering they haven’t been apart since middle school. Jaemin never worried about their friendship drifting apart. But his assurance grew when they discovered they got accepted into the same college.
“Hey, you’re back?” Jeno took off his headphones as Jaemin entered.
Nodding, Jaemin flopped onto his friend’s bed. A foolish grin spread across his face as he rested his head on the pillow.
“You seem happy,” Jeno remarked, throwing his head back. “Did you meet with (Y/n) again?”
Simply the mention of her name alone brightened Jaemin's mood. "Jeno, do you know what it feels like to be in love?"
"In love? I thought you just liked her," Jeno leaned forward, raising his water bottle to his lips. Jaemin pressed his hand to his chest and sighed.
"I do. But there's this different level of liking when it comes to her. My heart can't stop beating!"
Jeno nearly choked on his water. "Don't tell me you've said all of that to her."
"Of course not," Jaemin said, defensively. "Do you think I'm that much of an idiot?"
"Just wanted to make sure," Jeno shrugged.
Feeling energized, Jaemin pulled out his phone to text her. However, he was pleasantly surprised to find an unread message from her. Kicking his feet up in the air, he beamed and showed Jeno what she sent.
"You see this, Jeno? She finally texted me first!"
"I guess that's some improvement." Jeno's reaction was lackluster, but Jaemin pretended to ignore it.
Placing a hand on his chest, Jaemin sighed, "Oh (Y/n), why are you doing this to me?"
Jeno shook his head and turned his chair back around to the computer. "Yeah. You're in love with her, that's for sure."
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Coming out of his photography class the next day, Jaemin spotted (Y/n) near one of the windows in the hall. Realizing she was on the phone, he decided to wait until she was done.
"I know. You don't need to worry, Halmeoni," she spoke lightly. "I'll pick up her medication after class."
That was the end of the conversation he overheard before she dropped her hand holding the phone, squeezing it tightly. While he knew her personal matters were none of his business, he couldn't help but worry about her. From the brief glimpse he had, she seemed unhappy.
After waiting for about five minutes, he approached her. "(Y/n), I almost didn't see you there!"
She turned to him, the frustration replaced by a small smile. Whether she was genuinely pleased to see him or merely pretending to be fine was uncertain.
"Oh, hi Jaemin. Did you just come out of class?" she asked.
He nodded. "What about you?"
She glanced back at her phone to check the time. "My morning class is over, but I have one more in an hour."
"Ah, I see. Do you want to get lunch with me then?" he proposed, gesturing towards the cafeteria.
"It's okay. I'm not that hungry," she mumbled, absently adjusting the strap on her bag.
Crossing his arms, he leaned down to meet her at eye level. "You're lying. I know you don't eat breakfast, so you have to be hungry!"
"Jaemin—" she blushed and couldn't finish her sentence.
"It'll be my treat since you helped me with my photography assignment last week," he added before she could fully deny him.
This time, he didn't wait for her answer and took her hand to lead them out of the hallway. "Jaemin, people are going to see us and start assuming things!" she stammered.
Rolling his eyes, he continued to walk with her. "If you're worried, we can go out then."
She didn't make any more attempts to stop him. When he looked at her, his heart softened. He wanted to ask if she was okay, but for now, he focused on taking care of her physical health. From the few months they'd known each other, he quickly learned that (Y/n) was someone who neglected herself. Though he might have lectured her once when she said she didn't want to be a burden, he could tell she appreciated his efforts and stopped fighting back.
Jaemin’s goal shifted. He realized that making Kim (Y/n) happy was more of a priority than pursuing her.
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Her phone was flung recklessly onto the bed at the peak of her outrage. The barrage of text messages from her mom made her feel as though someone was drilling a screw in her head. With shaking fists, she glanced over to her desk, where the top drawer held a razor blade in one of the journals. The urge was tempting, yet she resisted, not wanting to give herself another reason to hate on this particular day.
Exhaling, she sat at the edge of the bed, letting her hands grip the frame. Thoughts of whether moving back to Seoul had been a mistake haunted her. But Busan hadn't been any better for her either. Why did she keep contradicting herself like this?
After a few minutes of drowning in her bothersome thoughts, her phone buzzed again. She groaned and reached to grab the device, sitting up straighter when she recognized the caller ID wasn’t her mother.
“Hello?” she answered the phone. Strangely, hearing his voice allowed some of her torment to disappear.
“Did you get home safely?”
She nodded, momentarily forgetting that they were on a voice call. “I did. You?”
“Yeah, Jeno and I went back together.”
“Oh, I see. Is that all you called me for?”
“Why? Am I not allowed to make sure my friend is safe and sound at her dorm?”
“If that’s all, I’m going to hang up now. I have to finish my homework,” she laughed.
Jaeemin sighed, “Alright. Make sure to get some rest before it’s too late.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Dream of me when you sleep!” He sang.
She blushed and quickly tapped the “end call” button. With a bit of effort, she forced herself to go to her desk and open her laptop. She wasn't lying earlier, there was a research project she had to work on.
How could he say those things so casually? It was almost as if they were dating—No, she had to stop thinking like that. She had come to learn that Jaemin just had a flirty personality. But it was hard for her to fathom how someone could be like that so effortlessly. Certainly, she didn’t possess the boldness or courage he did.
Other than that, she was surprised to discover how much Jaemin and she had in common. She thought the only reason he acted energetically when they were out was because of all the coffee he drank. But, other than that, he was a pretty mellow guy.
Regardless, Jaemin was charismatic and kind to everyone. Yet, she felt like he put up his lively facade for the public. When it was just the two of them, Jaemin was a lot calmer. Sometimes they'd walk to one of their homes in silence, the only sound being music played from their earbuds.
Unintentionally, Na Jaemin had become the person to distract her from reality. It felt like Renjun all over again. That was why she had to consistently remind herself not to get too close to the boy. She couldn’t let things get that far.
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On a Sunday after work, she returned to the apartment. Whenever she was at home, her mom mostly stayed in her bedroom, often on her computer or in bed. Before she moved back to the city, her mom ate a lot of delivery food. She tried cooking meals for her, but they always remained untouched in the refrigerator.
Regardless, she tried not to give up. After putting away her things, she walked down the hall and cautiously opened the door to her mom’s room. None of the lights were on.
“Eomma, I brought you some seolleongtang from the restaurant you like,” (Y/n) said hesitantly. Most of the blankets covered her body, but she could make out her messy black hair.
When she didn’t respond, she sighed and took a step closer to the door. She didn’t intend to stay long anyway. “I left the soup on your kitchen counter for you. You should eat before it gets cold.”
“Stop pretending to care,” her mom mumbled into her pillow. “You don’t love me.”
That sentence tugged at her heart. Would she be doing all this if she didn’t love her?
Her fingernails started to dig into the skin of her palms. “Eomma, you know that’s not true.”
“You can’t even say it!” her mom cried out. “You’ve always been so cold to me. You must want your mother to die.”
Clenching her fists, she retorted without thinking. “Of course I still love you!”
Instantly, her eyes enlarged at the sudden volume increase in her voice. She almost never raised her voice at anyone, especially her parents. But her mom had pushed too many buttons that day. She took a step back before she could make anything worse.
“I never stopped,” she glowered at her mom, who refused to look at her.
In the next second, she turned to leave again. Her feet didn’t stop because she knew her mom wouldn’t go after her. It had started to rain by the time she got outside. Yet she still walked around getting drenched like a crazy person. The tears streaming down her face mixed with the rain drops.
A heavy sigh escaped her. At least the clouds didn’t have to hide their misery.
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By the time Jaemin arrived at the classroom, the lecture was just about to start. Slightly disappointed, he made his way to sit in the row of desks behind (Y/n). His lips formed a pout because now he had to wait until after class to talk to her.
He never paid much attention to what the teacher was saying when (Y/n) was there. Occasionally, he’d get scolded by her for doing so. Yet she’d still offer to share her notes with him. When she did this the first time, Jaemin realized (Y/n) only acted cold so people wouldn’t approach her. She might be able to fool everyone else, but Jaemin knew she was a warm-hearted person.
During these times, (Y/n) usually pretended not to notice his eyes that naturally drifted her way throughout the class. But something seemed different about her today. The left hand she used to write was most often seen quickly scribbling down key points from the lesson. Her wrist was barely moving, and her head was kept down.
Once class ended, Jaemin tapped the girl on her shoulder. Jolting up, she turned around to face him.
“Oh, is class over already?”
He stared at her with wide eyes. “Uh, you look really pale.”
“What?” she asked, a little nasally.
His level of worry quickly increased when he reached over to feel her forehead. “You have a fever too. Why did you come if you’re sick?”
She weakly pushed his hand away and slurred her words, saying something about not wanting to miss class.
He exhaled and grabbed her hand. “Okay. We need to get you out of here.”
Surprisingly, she didn’t put up much of an argument. I guess she didn’t have any energy to do so. She could barely keep her head up when they got on the bus. Wanting her to be more comfortable, Jaemin guided her head to rest on his shoulder.
Honestly, he had never seen (Y/n) so out of it. He wondered what she did to get so sick like this. Glancing back down at her sleeping figure, he felt a bunch of different emotions.
“What are you doing to me, Kim (Y/n)?” he whispered, knowing she couldn’t hear him.
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Slowly, (Y/n) turned her head and let her eyelids flutter open on their own. Her reaction was late, but she was slightly alarmed when she found herself in an unfamiliar place. Her hands pressed down into a dark blue bedspread.
She glanced around, finding herself in a room with a large desk near the door that had a white computer. Where was she?
She blinked a few times, trying to recall what happened and how she got here. Just as she vaguely remembered Jaemin taking her out of class, the door creaked open. She sat up and instantly regretted it. The headache she had from this morning was still present.
“Oh, hi (Y/n).” Jeno came into the room. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Jeno? Why am I…”
The boy allowed himself to fully come into the room. “Jaemin brought you here after your class. You were out for about an hour.”
“Oh gosh. I didn’t mean to intrude like this.” This is what she got for walking home in the rain. Where was her sense?
Jeno waved his hand, brushing off her words. “Not at all. Jaemin was worried when he noticed you had a fever.”
“He was? Where is he?”
“He’s been in the kitchen. Should be coming back soon though.”
Just as he said that, her eyes darted to the door that reopened.
“Oh, you’re awake!” The boy with light brown hair exclaimed.
He was carrying a small wooden tray in his hands. With a tight-lipped smile, Jeno put a hand on his shoulder before passing him. Jaemin didn’t say anything, only giving an odd look to his friend who left the room.
However, the slightly confused expression instantly changed to a brighter one when he turned to her. Carefully, he walked over with the tray and sat beside her feet.
“Samgyetang,” He said, picking up the spoon next to the steaming blue bowl. “Eating will make you feel better.”
“Did you make it?” She asked, leaning forward to see the bowl. 
He nodded and filled the spoon with some of the broth. “I’m going to feed you because I know you won’t eat it yourself.”
How did he know she’d do that? Either way, she didn’t have any energy to protest. Hesitantly, she accepted the spoonful of food. She was surprised, to say the least.
“I didn’t know you could cook.”
“Is it good?” He asked.
She nodded in response. Jaemin lowered his head as he dipped the spoon in the bowl again. “My mom taught me.”
“Oh,” She said, “I can feed myself, Jaemin.”
After some hesitation, he relented and handed her the spoon. “I’m going to stay and make sure you finish at least half of that soup.”
“Yes, mom,” She conceded. Jaemin chuckled as she bit into a piece of chicken.
“Thank you for going out of your way to—do all this,” She said later. He put the bowl and tray aside on his desk.
“How is your headache?”
“Not as bad. Are you going to scold me again?”
“No. But do you mind me asking how you got sick?” A familiar sense of fear came her way.
“I just got caught in the rain walking home the other day.”
Okay, she wasn’t completely lying. But she wasn’t telling the full truth either. Thankfully, Jaemin seemed to believe her.
“I see. You should get some more rest,” he said.
She gave him a quizzical look. “You’re not going to let me leave, are you?”
“That’s right!”
“But this is your bed,” She frowned.
The boy shrugged, “I can just crash in Jeno’s room.”
He motioned for her to lay back down. Reluctantly, she listened to him. Not that she’d admit out loud that she wanted to. The pain eased slightly when her head hit the pillow.
“Better?”
“Better.”
He didn’t say anything more after that. They sort of just remained in their positions silently. She pretended to not notice Jaemin staring at her. Or how his fingertips were tracing lightly over her bangs that were damp with sweat.
She tried to ignore the fluttery emotions that swirled around her heart. In the past when she got sick, she just dealt with it alone. She didn’t want to be more of a burden to the people around her.
This was certainly different from the time when Renjun got sick and couldn’t come to school. Back then, the roles were reversed, and she was doing the things Jaemin had done for her.
Her head was hurting, but she still had most of her sanity. Unlike the last time, she would make sure her memories didn’t repeat. She should’ve been more ashamed that she let this happen in the first place.
But with Jaemin, it felt nice, him taking care of her. Yet another side of him that she hadn’t expected. 
Her perspective on Jaemin kept shifting. And she wasn’t sure what she thought about it.
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As summer came to an end, fall gradually took its place. Which meant that the college autumn festival was approaching. Numerous clubs and activities had been diligently preparing for the event over the past few weeks. While most of Jaemin's classmates expected him to attend, he felt a bit reluctant due to the unnecessary attention and the prospect of encountering girls eager to approach him.
Yet, the idea of going to the festival became much more appealing if (Y/n) was also planning to attend. Day by day, Jaemin found himself falling a bit more for her. A few months back, he had taken care of her when she had a headache, a simple act of kindness that he would have extended to any friend.
A couple of days later, when he went to get his daily coffee, (Y/n) surprised him with free macarons, expressing her gratitude for his care. It was a small but meaningful gesture, signaling that (Y/n) was gradually warming up to him.
On the day of the festival, Jaemin decided to meet (Y/n) after their last classes and suggested going together. Spotting her waiting near the main entrance, he waved, and she smiled shyly in response. Energized by the sight of her, he skipped over.
“(Y/n)—” he began before being interrupted by a girl approaching them. Glancing at the newcomer, Jaemin recognized her as a classmate from his photography class.
“Jaemin? I’m in your photography class.”
“Ah, hello,” he politely bowed his head. “Is there something you need?”
The girl beamed at him, twirling a lock of her hair. “I just wanted to see if you’re going to the college festival tonight. Would you like to go with me?”
“I’m sorry I—” Jaemin started to decline, but his eyes shifted to (Y/n) standing awkwardly beside him. 
He then put an arm around her shoulder. “I’m going with her,” he clarified, pretending to not notice how (Y/n)’s eyes widened in surprise.
The girl's expression faltered, embarrassed by the rejection, but she managed to put on a smile. “Oh…I see. Well, please come find me if you want better company!”
As the girl left, Jaemin kicked the ground in frustration. “Did she not see that you were right next to me?” he quipped, tilting his head to the left.
(Y/n) looked puzzled. “Why did you turn her down? She was pretty.”
“You’re prettier,” Jaemin replied without hesitation. He smirked when he saw her cheeks turn pink.
Tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he suggested, “Let’s go to the festival.”
(Y/n) hesitated before sighing. “I guess we have to now, since you told that girl we were.”
“Yeah. But I was going to ask you anyway,” he shrugged. “Come on, let’s go.”
She opened her mouth to say something and closed it. Jaemin chuckled at her silent agreement. They conversed on the way to the festival, and upon arrival, marveled at the transformed campus with lanterns, various booths, music, and enticing smells of food and alcohol.
“What do you want to do first?” Jaemin nudged (Y/n).
They spent most of their time walking around, pointing out interesting things, and occasionally participating in mini-games. Seated at a table under one of the food tents, they ate some tteokbokki. Despite disliking alcohol, they decided to share a bottle.
Later in the night, they found a spot on the grass to watch a fireworks show. Jaemin asked (Y/n) if she had done something like this before.
She lightly brushed her hand over the green blades. “There was one time when my parents took me to see fireworks on New Year's Eve. I must’ve been eight or nine.”
The dark sky allowed Jaemin to see a smile on her lips, yet a hint of sadness lingered in her eyes. Before he could inquire further, the show began, capturing their attention. The bursts of bright colors were mesmerizing up close.
Expressing a bit of regret, Jaemin remarked, “I wish I had brought my camera.”
(Y/n) looked over at him and smiled. Anticipating his wish, she unzipped her bag, revealing a small, light blue polaroid camera.
“I figured you were going to ask me to come here with you,” she explained, handing him the camera.
Grinning, Jaemin said, “Yeokshi, Kim (Y/n).”
Pointing out the best fireworks, (Y/n) and Jaemin managed to capture a few with the camera. Towards the end, Jaemin suggested taking some pictures together, and to his surprise, (Y/n) agreed to one photo. Excitedly, he flipped the camera around to snap a photo of them.
“Smile!”
Posing together, they managed to fit in the small frame, but Jaemin couldn't help but notice how close they had gotten. Subconsciously, his eyes flickered to her lips, and feeling daring, he leaned a bit more forward to see her reaction. 
She was blushing profusely now. His eyes searched hers, silently contemplating if he should just make a move. He pondered on what to say, or if words were even necessary at the moment. Jaemin’s heart was thumping rapidly against his chest. He couldn’t help but wonder if (Y/n)’s was the same.
Being in such close proximity allowed her to appreciate his handsome features. The mixture of his breath with hers stirred butterflies in her stomach, spiraling in circles. Suddenly, they dispersed, and the nonsensical thoughts in her mind ceased immediately.
Fully aware of the situation, she pulled back, her face and entire body ablaze. "It’s late. I should go," she lied, too embarrassed to meet his gaze.
Avoiding eye contact, she hastily rose to her feet and speed-walked out of the festival, pretending not to hear him call after her. (Y/n) cursed to herself, "What have I gotten myself into?"
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(Y/n) could barely concentrate in math class the next morning. The lack of sleep didn’t help. The events of the previous night replayed incessantly in her mind, driving her to the brink of insanity. Na Jaemin had come close to kissing her, and she almost wished he had. The setting had been perfect with fireworks, a romantic atmosphere, and their proximity. Yet, she had ruined the moment out of fear.
Last night confirmed that she developed feelings for him. The last thing she wanted. She knew from the beginning that being friends with Jaemin was dangerous. Yet, she still allowed herself to be drawn in.
Only when the others started leaving the classroom did she realize that the class was over. As she packed her things, a girl approached her – the one with long black hair, flawless makeup, and impeccable clothes from Jaemin’s photography class. She was the one who had asked him out and got turned down.
“You’re the girl who was with Na Jaemin yesterday, right?” she asked.
Taking a moment, (Y/n) replied, "Maybe."
Despite the smile she held, (Y/n) could tell the girl didn’t like her. Her lips twitched in slight annoyance as she continued the conversation.
"We’re not together, if that’s what you wanted to ask next," (Y/n) asserted, swinging her bag over her shoulder, ready to leave.
The girl's expression changed, and she casually remarked, "Ah, that’s good to know. I was beginning to question Na Jaemin’s taste in girls."
"Excuse me?" (Y/n) stopped and turned back towards her.
The girl spoke nonchalantly, "No matter how I look at it, I don’t think Jaemin would date someone like you. He’s smart, funny, and handsome. He comes from a nice family too. The girl he dates should live up to certain standards, right?"
(Y/n)’s hand tightened around the strap of her bag, and the girl took a step closer, scanning her from head to toe.
"You know, someone who is pretty, rich, and confident. I’d say it would be a loss for him to date a girl anything other than that."
Forced to smile, (Y/n) made a poor attempt to conceal the impact of those words. Mumbling, she said, "I know," and walked away, steering clear of a larger confrontation.
A mix of humiliation and annoyance consumed her. The girl's intentions were clear – to play with her head. Yet, she couldn't deny that the words had struck a nerve. Everything she lacked seemed to be a reason why Jaemin and she couldn't happen. Her feelings were rendered insignificant, knowing he was seemingly out of her league.
Her thoughts then veered back to Renjun. Despite the time that had passed, a part of her wasn’t entirely over him. The lessons from high school echoed in her mind – never allowing herself to get close to anyone again.
In the end, the problem always seemed to be her.
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Seated in the back row of the classroom, he slumped in his chair, grappling with the silence from (Y/n) since the other night. The texts he had sent her remained unread, flooding his mind with various thoughts.
Questions plagued him – was she angry? Did she resent him? Had he acted too hastily?
Admitting to himself that he might have been too impulsive, he chastised his own foolishness. Despite that realization, he couldn't help it at that moment; his feelings for her were overpowering. The looming possibility that she never wanted to see him again felt unbearable.
Though Jeno didn't voice his concerns, it was evident that he was worried about him. Over the past few days, anxiety had taken a toll on him, leading to skipped meals and isolation. He found himself criticizing (Y/n) for her eating habits, realizing the hypocritical nature of his actions. In some ways, she reminded him of himself – a music lover who didn't express it openly, an introvert with an outgoing facade, and someone who concealed insecurities adeptly.
Those similarities weren’t the only reason he liked her though. His affection for (Y/n) stemmed from her qualities as a listener. She patiently listened to his rants about proper skin care with attentive nods. She willingly assisted him with homework, displaying patience even when explanations needed repetition.
In a conversation with Jeno some time ago, he elaborated on the reasons for his deep admiration for (Y/n).
"You've really fallen for her, haven't you?" Jeno sighed in response to his lovesick monologue.
"And the way her eyes light up when she's excited," he continued, sounding like an enamored puppy. "Her laugh is just the cutest!"
Despite the selfish part of him, Jaemin knew he couldn’t impose his feelings on (Y/n). From how things were right now, the chances of her reciprocating his feelings was unlikely.
To be honest, Jaemin wasn’t sure if he was ready to accept that outcome.
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Having successfully avoided Jaemin for the past few days, (Y/n) found herself unable to escape this time. Her mind remained in disarray, and while uncertain about what to think, she knew facing him was inevitable.
"(Y/n), can we please talk?" Jaemin's voice reached her ears, prompting her to grimace before slowly turning around.
"What’s there to talk about?" she mumbled, reluctantly meeting his gaze.
Jaemin's eyes searched hers, seeking something. "Are we just going to act like nothing happened or—"
"It was a mistake," she cut him off, witnessing a hurt expression etch onto Jaemin's face.
"(Y/n)—" Jaemin began again, but she raised her hand to stop him.
"I know what you're going to say. But we can’t be together." She spoke in her sternest voice. "So please, forget what happened."
She concealed the trembling within her, although he took a step closer. Their sneakers nearly touched, and, for once, Jaemin wasn’t wearing the carefree smile she had grown accustomed to. Had she finally pushed him away for good?
Perhaps it was for the best.  Jaemin didn't deserve to be with her who was a complete mess. She dared to look at him once more, observing the hurt in his eyes. She was the one who was causing him pain. She wondered if he would say he hated her and never wanted to see her again. But she should have known he wouldn't.
"(Y/n).” The calm tone he was using strangely made her feel worse. "Will you ever open your heart to me?"
His words carried significant weight, seeking some form of answer. However, she just stared at him, speechless. 
He sighed and began to back away. "I’m sorry. But I don't think we can stay friends like this."
"Wait—Jaemin!" she called out as he disappeared from behind the bushes. "Na Jaemin!"
He was gone, and tears started to form in her eyes. A new feeling of guilt began to crawl up her throat. This pain was different from her first heartbreak, but it felt just as overwhelming.
Was this what it felt like to hurt someone?
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The cafe felt empty without him. A few customers made their daily orders, but it wasn't the same. Jaemin walking through the front door always brightened her day, giving her something to look forward to. Being at work now felt depressing and meaningless.
The hours passed, and there was still no Jaemin. (Y/n) tried to focus on her tasks and not dwell on what happened, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't.
By the time she finished wiping down all the tables, she was ready to officially close up the shop. Her plan was put on pause when she heard someone come in.
"I'm sorry, we're closed," she said plainly, turning around. Her eyes widened when she recognized the unexpected customer. "Jeno?"
The puppy-like boy smiled at her. "I was hoping you'd still be here."
He waited for her to finish closing up the shop, and they went to the park after. Walking along the sidewalk, following the stone circle path, (Y/n) knew Jeno wanted to talk to her about Jaemin. She thought he would be mad since they're best friends and all. If he held any resentment, he didn’t show it.
"I know it isn't really my place to say anything," Jeno finally broke the awkward silence between them. "But I've been worried about Jaemin, and you too."
Why would he be worried about her? She was the one who hurt his friend.
"I'm sorry. It's my fault," she apologized, and Jeno paused briefly before talking again.
"I don't know what happened between you two. But I think there's something you should know." They both stopped walking, and Jeno turned to face her properly.
"Jaemin sincerely cares about you, (Y/n). You can trust me when I say that he's never been so serious about someone."
His sentence was simple but struck her heart when she felt the weight of it. Jeno continued as the emotions started to kick in.
"I won’t tell you what to feel or to give him a chance. I believe all he wants is for you to be happy."
He glanced over at her, and his eyes quickly showed concern. She didn't even know she was crying until the first few tears dripped off her chin. Her lip quivered as more water spilled out of her eyes.
What Jeno said and everything else came crashing down on her like a huge ocean wave. She had forced herself to be blind to her true feelings. She liked Na Jaemin, so much more than a friend. But she had gotten so caught up in the fear of something like Renjun repeating that she didn't stop to think about his feelings. She was inconsiderate of him, who was always so sweet.
"What have I done?" she mumbled.
Jeno placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, (Y/n). Why don't you come back with me to talk to him?"
She wasn't sure if she had the right to see Jaemin after all this. It was already embarrassing enough to be crying in front of Jeno. But if she learned anything from this, she had to pull herself together and push aside her fears. For Jaemin.
After a few sniffles, she smiled weakly at Jeno. "I think I'd like that."
She knew what she had to do now.
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Regret quickly consumed Jaemin after he left that day. His intention was to make things better with (Y/n), and confront things. But for some reason, he just couldn’t stomach her rejection. Now she might not ever talk to him again.
Sitting in the living room, contemplating all that had gone wrong, Jaemin's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of button presses from the passcode on their lock. Jeno was out later than expected. Jaemin exhaled and leaned back on the couch, awaiting his friend's arrival.
What he didn’t expect was to see (Y/n) come in after Jeno.She appeared extremely nervous, and the rims of her eyes were slightly red. Had she been crying? Jaemin questioned why Jeno brought her here, giving his friend a questionable look. 
Jeno simply smiled before heading to their room. “I’ll leave you guys alone.”
(Y/n) and Jaemin exchanged awkward glances. She tightened the grip on the strap of her bag. 
“Jaemin, can we talk?” she asked, speaking quietly, almost as if afraid he'd get mad at her. Jaemin stood up from the couch, smiling slightly, and suggested they go out to the balcony.
The weather was pleasant that day, with the dark evening sky and light autumn breeze. Both unsure of how to start, (Y/n) and Jaemin admired the city view for a bit. Not wanting her to feel pressured, Jaemin decided to speak first.
“(Y/n), I’m sorry,” he sighed. “The other day, I shouldn't have been so cold to you.” 
Quick to shake her head, (Y/n) said, "No, I should be the one apologizing."
Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows, nodding to let her explain. "I never told you the full story about the last guy I liked," she began, resting her folded hands atop the steel railing. "At the time, I was in a… really dark place. And he was the first person who saw the real me."
"When I was around him, I didn't have to pretend I was okay all the time. He was the closest friend I ever had." Her eyes sparkled as she smiled sadly, a smile that quickly faded.
"But things changed after his girlfriend moved and transferred to our school. I overheard their conversation where he said that I never meant anything to him."
Listening quietly, Jaemin noted the fragility in her voice, as if she could break any second. Yet she didn't.
"After that day, I swore to myself that I’d never be vulnerable to a boy ever again. But I realized that was incredibly unfair to you,” she continued. 
"You've shown me nothing but kindness and patience," she murmured. "When all I've done is push you away."
"(Y/n)—"
She let out a deep breath as she finally met his eyes. "The idea of opening my heart to someone terrifies me. But, I think I'm willing to try if it's you."
Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, waiting nervously for a response. Jaemin's outward reaction was slow, but not on the inside. Her words were like a key that unlocked everything he had kept in his heart. 
“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” he said, gently taking her hands in his. “I promise that you’re safe with me, (Y/n).”
She smiled, “I trust you, Jaemin.”
The two have never been in this close proximity before. His breath on hers made her heart race. The two locked eyes for a moment, as Jaemin slowly leaned in. But right before their lips could meet, he paused. She regarded him with a hint of confusion, wondering why he was hesitating.
"Can I kiss you?" he then asked, knowing he didn't really have to but wanting her to be sure.
His question sparked a wave of heat instantly rushed to her cheeks. However, the corner of her lips curled into a small smile as she rose on the tip of her toes, closing the remaining distance between them. Jaemin was caught slightly off guard by her sudden actions. But the sensation of her soft lips against his was enough to make him melt. He knew right away that her touch was something he wanted more of.
Feeling as if his heart could burst at any moment, Jaemin brought his hands up to tenderly cup her face. Their kiss was slow at first, allowing them to take their time and savor the moment. His lips moved in sync with hers, and her fingers gripped the hem of his hoodie as he kissed her harder. Towards the end, he was sure she could feel him smiling into the kiss.
Eventually, they broke away, breathless, lips redder and moist from the sweet kiss they had just shared. Jaemin kept one hand on her cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb.
"(Y/n)," he said her name like a vow. "I’ve been wanting to do that for so long."
She smiled shyly before admitting, “Me too. I should’ve just let you kiss me at the festival.”
Jaemin's heart practically exploded for the umpteenth time when she fully wrapped her arms around his torso. The left side of her face rested on his chest, as she wasn't tall enough to reach his shoulder.
Of course, he gladly accepted the embrace, gently squeezing her. He didn't want to ever let go. She giggled when he pressed a kiss into her hair.
"I'm so in love with you, Kim (Y/n)."
There weren’t enough words to describe how amazing it felt to confess that out loud.
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Subconsciously, (Y/n)'s fingertips would brush over her lips after the previous night. The prior events were still fresh in her mind—her apology and confession, him kissing her. She contemplated whether everything had been a dream she hadn't woken up from.
However, (Y/n) was reassured when Jaemin greeted her with a hug the next morning. She was slightly wary of other people seeing them, but she brushed it off. Besides, she had recently learned that Jaemin gave the warmest hugs.
"Should we hold hands?" she laughed shyly when he asked. He seemed to be giddier about the change in their relationship than she was.
(Y/n) nodded to him and bravely intertwined her right hand with his left one. In return, a gloating Jaemin pressed a quick kiss against her knuckles before suggesting they head to class.
"This is day two of Na Jaemin and Kim (Y/n) as a couple," he lightly swung their arms as they walked on the school campus.
"You're already counting?" she smiled in slight amusement.
Jaemin nodded proudly. "I already marked when our 100th day will be."
"Really? I did too," she said bashfully.
Not many people knew this, but (Y/n) was secretly a romantic at heart. She used to fantasize over fun date ideas and anniversaries. So when Jaemin and she confirmed their feelings for each other, she marked their 100th day on her calendar when she got back to the dorm. She was afraid she was getting ahead of herself, so she didn't intend to tell him. But it was nice to know that Jaemin also thought about those things.
"See? I knew we were a perfect match," he tilted his head back.
The closer they got to the classroom, the more nervous (Y/n) began to feel. What would everyone say when they saw Jaemin and her come in together, holding hands?
"What's wrong?"
"You're not worried about other people seeing us?" she asked.
"They probably assumed we've been together for a while now," said Jaemin. "But either way, I don't care what they think."
Jaemin was certainly a lot braver than (Y/n) was. But she could feel his courage slowly starting to rub off on her. When he turned to look at her to hear her opinion, she gently squeezed his hand.
"Then I won't either,” she said confidently. He smiled and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before they entered the lecture hall.
Jaemin wasn’t surprised by the whispers and looks people gave them when he and (Y/n) entered the room holding hands. (Y/n) insisted that she wouldn’t care about the other people at college who talked behind their backs, but there was still a twinge of guilt in him.
She had gained all this unwanted attention before when they were just friends. Now that they were officially dating, it gave people on campus another excuse to gawk at them. They could spread all the rumors they wanted to, but this was their life, and (Y/n)’s too. Jaemin wasn’t going to let them ruin their happiness.
Thankfully, class didn’t go as slowly as Jaemin expected. Every so often, he glanced over to (Y/n) beside him, thinking about what she said the other day, about her past. He now understood why she was so cold to him in the beginning. But he was grateful that he had finally gotten her to open up. 
(Y/n) tapped him on the shoulder. “Jaemin, class is over.”
“Really?” Lifting his head, Jaemin looked around to see people were indeed leaving.
“I guess you didn’t pay much attention to the professor, did you?” She sighed and crossed her arms.
“How can I, when I have you next to me?” He teased.
As expected, (Y/n) quickly lost her composure when he said that. She got flustered so easily.
“Are you always this direct in a relationship?” she blushed.
“Only for you,” Jaemin winked and held out his hand to her. “Come on, everyone has left already.”
They walked out into the hall, avoiding the occasional stares from passing students. Jaemin felt (Y/n) nudge him when they got outside.
“I don’t have work today,” she said. “Is there anything you want to do?”
Jaemin hummed, pretending to think for a second. Little did she know, he was hoping she didn’t have anything else to do today.
“We should go on a date,” he suggested.
(Y/n) stared at him as if she didn’t hear him properly. “Date? Where would we go?”
Jaemin simply smiled and told her she would just have to wait and see.
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They stepped inside, and the scent of candy greeted them.
“I came here with Jeno once to make cookies. I thought it would be fun to try decorating a cake,” Jaemin said.
“Cake decorating?” (Y/n)’s eyes scattered around the colorful place. Ha, he bet she thought he was going to take her to some cafe.
First off, Jaemin wanted to take her mind off things and destress a little. Considering she spent a lot of her time working with coffee and beverages, he didn’t want to take her somewhere that reminded her of that. It was their first date, and he wanted to make it special. (Y/n) being impressed by his creativity was an added bonus.
“What do you think?” he asked her, just to make sure.
She gave him a nod of approval. “It sounds fun. I just can’t guarantee our cake will turn out too pretty.”
“I’m sure we’ll do just fine,” Jaemin reassured her, gently patting her back. “Come on, let’s go find a table.”
A lady who worked at the store bought them a sponge cake covered in plain white cream. They listened carefully to her directions before they got up to get toppings to decorate their cake. There was an entire room filled with an assortment of candies, sprinkles, fruits, and icing.
“You and your love for sugar,” (Y/n) giggled when she saw Jaemin eyeing the chocolate section.
He smiled sheepishly. “You should choose things you like too.”
In the end, they settled on a few toppings that they both liked and went back to their table. Jaemin had no clue where to start. Luckily, (Y/n) seemed a lot better at cake decorating than she thought she would be. She guided his hand carefully to drizzle chocolate icing along the outer edges of the cake.
By the time they finished decorating, (Y/n) seemed pleased with how nice the cake turned out. Jaemin took a bunch of pictures with his phone, with the majority of them capturing her. He couldn’t help it when she looked so cute in his eyes.
After getting dinner, Jaemin and (Y/n) strolled hand in hand towards her dorm building. Jaemin purposely walked slower, dreading the idea of having to part from her. The gentle glow of the streetlights cast a warm ambiance around them, and the sounds of their laughter mixed with the rustle of leaves under their feet.
As they stopped in front of her dorm, he turned to her with a soft pout. “Do you really have to go?”
A soft chuckle escaped her lips at his newfound clinginess. “I have class in the morning, you know. We’ll see each other tomorrow.”
“I know…” Jaemin mumbled, playfully kicking the ground. 
The smile on her lips grew, as she lightly squeezed his hand.  “Thank you for today. I had a lot of fun.”
“I’m glad,” he said, a subtle giddiness dancing in his heart. He couldn’t help but think of all the other things he wanted to do with her now that they were together.
Their hands remained intertwined, as the two stood in silence for a few seconds. Jaemin’s gaze turned more tender, and he leaned into place a quick kiss to her lips. “See you tomorrow, (Y/n).”
Heading inside the building, (Y/n) couldn’t help but glance back at him. The lingering smile he wore and the warmth in her eyes made her heart beat faster than usual. She wondered if she’d ever grow accustomed to that feeling. One thing she was certain of, was that today marked the beginning of something beautiful.
If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up from it.
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In the weeks that followed, (Y/n) slowly felt more secure in her blossoming relationship with Jaemin. Things hadn’t changed much from when they were friends. He still had lunch with her, dropped by her workplace, and walked her home. The notable change in these moments now included flirtatious banter and kisses. She learned early on that Jaemin didn’t hold back when it came to openly expressing his affection. She wasn’t used to having someone care so deeply the way he did. 
One weekend, they decided to make dinner together at his apartment. Jaemin took her to the grocery store near his place so they could pick up ingredients. He guided her through the aisles, hand in hand, creating a sense of warmth within her.
“I make really good pork belly,” Jaemin mentioned, placing a pack of the frozen meat in the cart. “You’re going to love it.”
(Y/n) smiled, “We should get some kimchi to go with it.”
As they headed toward the kimchi section, the smile on her lips faded when she spotted a familiar figure. She internally cursed as their eyes met. Jaemin observed her complexion growing paler as the person approached them.
“Eomma,” the word slipped past her lips without her realizing.
“Well if it isn’t my lovely daughter,” the woman chimed. “You haven’t been answering any of my texts, I was getting worried.”
Unconsciously, her grip on his hand tightened. She hadn’t seen her mother since their argument. But that didn’t stop her from berating her phone with texts that said all kinds of things. She didn’t expect to run into her mom like this.
“Yeah…I was busy,” she mumbled in reply.
Her mother turned to Jaemin with an intrigued expression. “And who’s this?”
Before she could answer, Jaemin spoke up. “Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/n)’s boyfriend, Na Jaemin.”
As he politely bowed, her mother clasped her hands together. “Oh, how wonderful. She’s never mentioned you before.”
Jaemin was perceptive enough to catch the way she bit her lip. She only ever did that when she was nervous or uncomfortable. While he didn’t know why she seemed so tense, he decided not to comment on it for now.
“It’s a recent thing. We’ve been together for a few weeks now,” he explained with a tight-lipped smile.
She sucked in a breath, observing her mother eye Jaemin as if he were a piece of candy.
“What a handsome face. (Y/n) should bring you over sometime,” her mom said, subtly darting her eyes towards (Y/n). “After all, I am her mother and gave birth to her. It makes my heart ache when she doesn’t visit.”
The indirect jab hidden beneath her mom’s words made (Y/n) feel like a little girl again. She hated it when her mom tried to guilt her because it always worked.
“Sure, Eomma. We’ll visit you,” she said, forcing herself to smile. 
Her shoulders gradually sank once they were a safe distance away. Sensing her unease, Jaemin lightly nudged her. “Are you okay?”
Almost automatically, she nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just finish shopping.”
Jaemin frowned as she pushed the cart forward and walked ahead of him. The way she immediately brushed him off confirmed that something was off. But if she wasn’t ready to talk about it, he didn’t want to push her. 
He was sure she’d open up to him more eventually.
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The unease she felt since encountering her mom that day hadn’t gone away. Her phone hadn’t stopped blowing up with messages since. Though her thumb scrolled mindlessly through her mom’s texts, she couldn’t find the energy in her to respond. Letting out a quiet sigh, she placed the phone down so she could focus on her homework.
“Princess, do you have an extra phone charger?” She glanced up at the sound of Jaemin’s voice.
She couldn’t help but blush a little at the name he used for her. He started calling her that some time ago, and it never failed to make her heart skip a beat. 
He had come over to her dorm after his class to do some studying. But it ended up turning into her doing actual work while Jaemin ranted about how Jeno accidentally poured water on his laptop. While he was a little distracting, she didn’t mind his presence at all. She was so used to doing everything on her own, and having Jaemin around made her aware of the loneliness she had been feeling prior.
Nodding, she pointed toward her desk. “Should be in the first drawer.”
Jaemin opened the drawer in search of the charger. However, his eyes widened when he unexpectedly found a razor blade peeking out from a notebook. His brows furrowed in confusion as he hesitantly picked it up. Upon closer inspection, he noticed brownish-red stains on the blade.
She sat up straighter on the bed, her eyes meeting the back of his head. “Did you find it?”
“(Y/n)...what is this?” he asked.
When he turned to her with the familiar shiny tool, her eyes widened with panic. Curses instantly flew through her head, realizing she had forgotten it was there. How could she be so stupid?
Quickly regaining her composure, she attempted to brush him off. “Oh, that’s nothing. Just an old thing.”
She could sense the skepticism in his eyes, and her fingers instinctively gripped the edge of her sleeve, pulling it down. Jaemin caught that, causing his worry to deepen. Setting the blade down, he moved to sit beside her on the bed. His gaze involuntarily fell to her arm, and she pulled back as he extended his hand.
“Can I see?” His voice carried a softness that tugged at her emotions.
Struggling to maintain eye contact, she bit her lip in hesitation. (Y/n) knew that if she was going to be with Jaemin, he would eventually have to find out about her secret. Nevertheless, she hadn’t anticipated it happening so soon. After a deep breath, she reluctantly rolled up the sleeve of her sweater. She looked down at the series of old scars with a mixture of shame and disgust.
Half of her expected the same reaction from Jaemin. But instead, his expression remained unreadable as he lightly traced his fingers over the faded marks. His touch sent an electric tingle down her spine.  
“What happened, Princess?” he asked, his voice gentle.
She knew that he simply wanted to understand the reasons behind the scars. However, his question brought back memories she had buried deep, almost making her feel sick. Nonetheless, she took another deep breath before starting to open up.
“Ever since I was little, my parents were always fighting and it always made me feel anxious. At some point I started to think that my parents would’ve been happier if they hadn’t had me,” she confessed. “Then I started cutting myself to numb my feelings. And it only got worse when my mom filed for divorce. I always knew it would happen, but it still hurt.”
Tears sprang to her eyes as she thought back to those nights where she felt so helpless and resentful. The only person who was able to pull her out of that dark place was Renjun. But she was brought back into that downward spiral after everything unfolded. Fighting against her mental state had been a long battle that she still hadn’t fully recovered from.
Jaemin listened in silence, his heart aching for the pain she endured. Now he understood why she seemed so unnerved when they ran into her mother at the store. He could only imagine the influence her mom had over her. 
“So that’s why my relationship with my mom isn’t great,” she continued, fidgeting with her blanket. 
Jaemin could discern the anguish in her expression. “I stopped cutting a long time ago,” she said, glancing down. “But I understand if you don’t like me anymore.”
Honestly, she didn’t know how he could still like her when he saw her hideous scars that only revealed her brokenness. Yet, the Jaemin she had fallen for wasn't like that at all. Instead of recoiling in revulsion, he lifted her chin so their eyes could meet once more. Then he leaned into plant a tender kiss on her lips.
“Nothing can change how I feel about you, (Y/n),” he said with the utmost assurance. “These scars only show that you’ve gone through battles, and came out stronger because of them.”
Jaemin’s sweet words triggered the waterworks for her, and he wasted no time in pulling her into his embrace. This was the first time he saw her cry, and it only made him want to hold her tighter. In fact, he held her in his arms, providing solace for the rest of the night.
While Jaemin hated seeing her in such distress, he was also grateful that she let him see this vulnerable side to her. He knew it couldn’t have been easy for her. He felt as if he had uncovered the final piece of her puzzle. 
Now that she had fully let him in, Jaemin was determined to make her feel more loved than she ever had before.
┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦
{ three years later }
“Jaemin, quit staring,” she giggled. “You have to focus on the road.”
He pouted in response, reluctantly obeying. “I can’t help it, your new hair color is so pretty.”
A blush crept up her cheeks as she subconsciously brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Dying her naturally brown hair to burgundy had been an impulsive decision on her part. She thought that a little change might be nice, and Jaemin seemed to like it.
Time had flown by so quickly. It felt like yesterday when she was insistent on not getting close to Jaemin. And now he had become someone she treasured the most. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.
She had graduated college and secured her first full-time job. While Jaemin was in medical school, studying to become a surgeon. Although his schedule could be demanding, he still made time for her, which she appreciated. 
“Where are we going?” she asked. 
“This fried chicken place Jeno told me about,” he replied, playfully ignoring the way she hastily changed the subject. (Y/n) hummed in response, gazing out the car window to admire the night aesthetics of the city. 
Right when they stepped in the restaurant, they were greeted by the enticing aroma of chicken and beer. The dimly lit ambiance cast a warm glow across the space, creating an inviting atmosphere. The latest K-pop songs reverberated through the air, infusing the restaurant with a vibrant energy that resonated with the bustling city outside.
“(Y/n)!” 
Jaemin noticed the startled expression when she heard her name being called. He glanced in the direction of the voice and spotted a charismatic tan-skinned man with dark brown hair, radiating a lively and welcoming aura.
“Lee Haechan?” she asked, her eyes widening in surprise.
“The one and only.” The boy said proudly, shifting his gaze to the person standing beside her. “Nice to see you, (Y/n)...and who did you bring with you?”
She blushed almost immediately, briefly glancing at Jaemin. “Oh this is Na Jaemin, my—”
“Boyfriend,” he finished for her, casually swinging an arm around her shoulders. “How do you know, (Y/n)?”
“Oh, we go way back since elementary school.” She caught the mischief in Haechan’s smile, and she just knew that he was ready to tease her. 
Thankfully, he held back and guided them to a table. Once they settled down, Haechan told her about how he opened up this restaurant after college. It was nice catching up with him after all these years. However, Haechan seemed to be more intrigued about her and Jaemin.
“So how did you two get together?” Haechan asked, as he placed down two glasses of beer on their table.
She exchanged a glance with Jaemin before answering, “We shared a few classes our first year in college, and he used to go to the café I worked at.”
“Yeah, I was interested in her from the start. It took some time for her to warm up to me.” The soft smile he gave made her heart flutter. “But it was worth it.”
Haechan leaned back in his seat with a playful grin. “Well, Na Jaemin, you must have some charm to crack her tough exterior. I honestly thought she’d never let anyone in after—”
“Haechan,” she said in a warning tone, shooting him a glare. Although she’s moved on from her high school days, she still didn’t like to talk about what happened.
The male raised his hands in the air, feigning innocence. “I’m sorry, I was just saying. But I’m genuinely happy for you, (Y/n), really.”
The sincerity in his eyes allowed her shoulders to relax a little. She smiled at him gratefully, reflecting on how far she’s come since high school. The last time she saw Haechan, she was at her all-time lowest. Now, she was the happiest she had ever been in her life.
Towards the end when they were getting ready to leave, Haechan mentioned a small high school reunion event he was hosting at the restaurant next Sunday.
“You should come (Y/n). I’m sure our old friends would love to see you.”
The thought of seeing her high school friends again was daunting. Haechan noticed the hesitation in her expression and offered an encouraging pat on the shoulder.
“Just think about it,” he said.
Biting her lip, she gave him a small nod and glanced back at Jaemin so they could leave. But as Jaemin headed outside, Haechan held her back for a second.
“You should look him up.” She didn’t need to ask to know he was talking about Renjun. 
Unsure of what to say, she nodded silently and joined Jaemin out in the cool evening air. She was quiet during the car ride back, but Jaemin decided not to comment on it for now.
Later in the night, instead of sleeping, she was on her laptop trying to occupy her mind with work stuff. Yet, Haechan’s suggestion lingered in her thoughts. Though a part of her resisted, the curiosity was overwhelming. So she slowly typed Renjun’s name into the search engine, and she was surprised by what she found.
He had debuted as a main vocalist in an idol group under SM entertainment. She couldn’t believe her eyes as she scrolled YouTube, showcasing his group’s music videos and stage performances. Watching the clips in awe, she couldn’t help but think back to the letter she had written to him before moving away. Seeing that he had not only pursued but achieved his dream filled with her a warm sense of pride and satisfaction. She always knew he would be successful.
Lost in her thoughts, she almost didn’t notice Jaemin entering the room after finishing his shower. It was pretty late by the time they got back to her apartment, so Jaemin happily accepted her offer to sleep over. She became aware of his presence when he came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her. Her lips stretched into a small smile, as he rested his chin on her shoulder.
“Is that the guy you told me about? Your first love?” he asked, viewing the screen in front of you.
Her smile faded as she slowly nodded. “Yeah that’s him.”
A moment of silence passed between them before Jaemin spoke again. “Is that why you hesitated when Haechan brought up the high school reunion?”
“I don’t know, I feel like I’d just make things awkward by going,” she sighed, turning around to lightly brush her fingers through his slightly damp hair. “What do you think?”
Jaemin gently tilted her chin up, meeting her eyes. “I think you should go,” he murmured softly. “I know you moved on, but confronting your past might give you some closure.”
Her lips pressed together, recognizing the validity in his words. Despite that, uncertainty lingered in her expression.
“I could come with you if you want,” he suggested.
Surprised by his offer, she raised an eyebrow and asked if he was being serious. Jaemin nodded with a reassuring smile. “Of course, I wouldn’t let my princess do this alone.”
In moments like those, (Y/n) couldn’t help but find herself falling for him again. He was always so sweet and supportive.
“Thank you, that means a lot to me,” she whispered, caressing his cheek with the pad of her thumb. “I can always count on you, can’t I?”
Jaemin's smile broadened as he met her halfway for a quick kiss. He closed her laptop, and pulled her into his embrace so they could cuddle in bed. Laying there beside him, she could see the love pouring from his eyes.
And with him, she felt like she could take on anything.
┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦
No matter how much she tried to mentally prepare herself for Sunday, her hands still trembled as she stood outside the restaurant entrance. Thankfully, Jaemin was by her side to lightly squeeze her hand in reassurance. After a slow exhale, her hand wrapped around the door handle and pushed it open.
As she walked into the sound of chatter and clinking glasses, she spotted Haechan downing a shot of soju. After placing the glass down, Haechan waved over to you and Jaemin.
“Oh, you guys are here!” the male called out.
Heads turned, and the sudden attention made her cheeks heat up.
“Hey, everyone. It’s been awhile,” she said with a sheepish smile, exchanging a brief glance with Jaemin. “Um—this is my boyfriend, Na Jaemin.”
Just as she said that, her eyes locked onto him almost immediately. He didn’t look too different from the last time she saw him, except his facial features were more defined and his hair was bleached. She wondered how many times he’s had to dye his hair since he debuted.
Instantly, her introduction of Jaemin elicited excited comments and congratulations, intensifying her shyness. Seated among her former classmates, she and Jaemin found themselves bombarded with questions about how they met and other details. Gradually, she began to relax as she and Jaemin recounted their story.
Later in the evening, Haechan encouraged Renjun to perform one of his songs for the group. Although Renjun seemed hesitant initially, he eventually stepped up to the small stage located near the back wall of the restaurant. Soon, music began to play through the speakers, and she observed with anticipation.
It had been so long since she heard him sing in person. As he started with the first verse of the song, a wave of high school memories flooded through her mind. Those days when they would listen to his playlist while waiting for the bus. The summer days when he tried to get her to sing his favorite songs with him, but she was too shy to join in.
She watched as he took the microphone off the stand, reaching the chorus of the song. 
“Tell me why I let you down. Any chance I get I’m breaking down,” he sang with such emotion. His voice was just as beautiful as she remembered.
“I know it’s my fault, but why is it so hard?” Her heart strangely twisted when his eyes found hers. “To tell you that I’m sorry, heart.”
It didn't take much for her to understand that he was singing to her. As he continued with the rest of the song, tears glossed over her eyes. Although she was no longer hurt by the past, hearing him now made her heart swell in emotion. Jaemin was right, this was the closure she had needed.
When the event came to a close, Jaemin suggested they take a little walk. She was a little confused when he guided her across the street and stopped under a large maple tree. Moonlight filtered through the branches, creating a serene ambiance.
“You okay?” he asked, noticing she was more quiet than usual.
She pondered on his question for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I am. I thought I would regret going tonight, but I’m glad I did.”
“I’m glad you did too. All your friends seemed nice,” Jaemin said, placing a hand in his jacket pocket. Initially, she assumed he was just cold, but then his hand emerged holding a small black box.
“What…what are you doing?” she asked, looking at him with a puzzled expression.
Jaemin smiled, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. “I was going to wait, but for some reason, I think now is the right moment.”
Her eyes widened when he got down on one knee, and her heartbeat skyrocketed instantly. A part of her wondered if she was hallucinating.
He opened the box, revealing a beautiful diamond ring inside. She gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth.
“Kim (Y/n), I knew you were the one since the first time I laid eyes on you,” Jaemin began, trying his his best to keep his voice stable, his hand shaking a little. She had never seen him so nervous before.
“Over time, I fell in love with the way you smile, the way you face challenges, and the incredible strength you carry within you,” he continued. “Every day, I am so grateful that you let me into your world. And these past few years together, made me realize that I don’t want to live another moment without you in it.”
By this point, she couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks. Jaemin let out a shaky breath, his eyes filled with love as he asked, “So with that said, will you marry me?”
Through tears, she managed to nod, her voice barely above a whisper, “Yes.”
She wished she could say the word a million times over. What did she ever do to deserve Na Jaemin in her life?
Once the ring was slid onto her finger, they embraced tightly than they ever have before. In the midst of their joy, she spotted Renjun standing across the street. Their eyes met, and the genuine smile they shared conveyed a silent understanding. In that moment, she realized that they both found their happy endings in a way. He went after his dreams, which was all she wanted for him. Meanwhile, she had found someone who cherished and valued her.
Jaemin broke away slightly to wipe her tears. Then he slowly leaned in to give her a kiss, one full of passion and tenderness. Her hands found their way to the back of his neck as she applied a little more pressure to the kiss. 
“I love you, Na Jaemin,” she whispered when they parted, her eyes still watery.
The smile on his face widened as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I love you too, Kim (Y/n).”
The city faded away, leaving them lost in the moment. Before she met Jaemin, she questioned whether she could ever find love or be loved by someone. But none of those doubts lingered in her mind as she stood in his arms.
Though Jaemin wasn’t her first love, he was most certainly her last.
𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡
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yulin-chu · 1 year
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Am I the Asshole for wanting to die?
So for context, I (F17) am a honor student and many of my classmates look up to me for being “smart and kind.” I suppose there is some truth to that, I help some with their homework and one of my writing pieces were good enough to be in a contest. Another thing you must know is I am apart of an anonymous music group. We chat together on Nightcord and we’ve found ourselves much success. The creator(F16), who we’ll call K, Amia(NB16), and Enanan (F17). They are all great people that have their talents. Now on with the story.
What people don’t know is that I’ve always been controlled by the ideals of my parents. The most memorable instance of this is when I said I wanted to be a nurse and insisted on being a doctor instead. They went with that and started claiming I wanted to be a doctor and how good it was for me. They didn’t focus on me, I always changed for what they wanted. They wanted a good daughter with perfect grades and a kind heart, they got one but at the expense of me. I realized that I had nothing. No personality, no interests, and no true friends. The people around me only saw the good girl.
I saw a strange file that was untitled. I clicked on it out of curiosity and I appeared in another world called “sekai.” I met with a girl with grey hair named Miku (F16). The Sekai was the place of my feelings, she claimed. There was supposed to be a song to find myself. I found the silence and the lack of interruption absolutely perfect. It was there I really started to collapse. I made songs about my feelings in hope of finding my true self, of course without my group. The solo songs I made were uploaded on a separate channel and it quickly gained popularity. My group members started talking about it and they talked about how “empty” and depressing it was. I continued making songs for that channel. But no matter how many songs I made, I couldn’t find it. I had rays of hope but it felt it was just useless. Things in my school life suddenly was such a pain. It was harder to fake a smile in front of everyone. My mom was hounding me about school and the future. I ended up cutting off my music group. I went into the Sekai every day for about a week just making songs that might help me find my real self.
Until somehow my music group found themselves in my Sekai. I could recognize them from their voices, it was actually my first time seeing them face to face. They said they were concerned and wanted me to go back. But I didn’t want to, in truth I joined the group because K’s music made me feel the desire to find myself. I joined her and searched for it but it was all for nothing. The only person that will help me is myself. I was not emotionally stable at the moment and said things with complete honesty. I said that we all wanted to die for some reason or another. It was harsh but true, we wouldn’t be making that music if we were happy. They tried to argue all sorts of things but i got Miku to send them away. Miku was concerned for me the whole time. She watched me without saying anything, even if I was sobbing while composing my music, she watched. I know she wanted to help.
I still maintained my life but everything started to ache. There was at a point in time where I completely accepted that I wouldn’t find myself. I still think it’s true but I was given hope, as much as it hurts. K and Amia appeared in my Sekai to help me. They tried to sympathize with me but I already accepted that I lost myself and will never see myself again. K had a song that would save me but in that moment I was completely hopeless and refused. Enanan yelled at me saying I have talented and should live for people that don’t have talent, which honestly doesn’t matter to me. Then Amia said they felt the same way. I was getting sick of them and got angry. K told me she would keep creating music even if it hurts her. She wanted to help me find myself. I asked her why and she told me it was her ego. Her fucking ego. Oddly enough, I accepted it. I wanted K to save me with her music.
Miku said i finally found my true feeling. My feeling turned into a song. And, it turns out. All I wanted was someone to save me. I’m still recovering and finding myself. But Enanan is still somewhat upset because of me. All the stuff I said was insensitive, so am I the asshole?
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1d1195 · 17 days
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EXACTLY WHAT I THINK TOO! Which is why I full on thought you had a brother lol And it's sweet that your sister helps you out! What is your style though or like aesthetic that you tend to gravitate towards?
My dad wants to look more into the native tribes around the area he was born because apparently his grandmother spoke a fluently a native language?! Crazy lol And honestly bestie I support you unleashing extended family DRAMA! It's for the ✨plot✨. Oddly enough I've mentioned to my mom she should do one but she fears it will cause drama on her side and dare I say i would like to see that unfold lol
I LOVE a good deal so whenever I have time/energy I am in there! I forgot that you were like a full on young adult when they were popular which makes more sense because although it was definitely a CHOICE on my end I was a child lol. BUT I understand why you were hesitant and that's okay!
I GET IT SO MUCH ABOUT BEING EMOTIONAL!! And it hard to have so much love to give yet the people who you want to show it too don't accept it or it's just not expressed in a way that feels like its for you. That post right there is such a good example, I loved reading it! And I think overall the act of being SEEN is so fulfilling and craving that is valid! Expressing love or anything remotely "soft" depending on your environment can be draining and sometimes feels embarrassing since your the only one. But it seems you have so much to give because that's natural to you and that's not weird at all. It's hard to be the first one to do things that may seem "weird" but it's YOU, you can't keep suppressing the love that you have, it may feel/sound selfish but trying for yourself is enough! easier said than done you deserve that nourishment that you give to other too!
AND SAM YOU LITTERALLY SAID WHAT MY THERAPIST HAS SAID TO ME HAHA But really though i feel so much and so the instances where I have gotten hurt for sure have closed myself off but I do appreciate you saying those things💗
I had such a BUSY weekend that the book was not on my mind at all lol BUT I DID GO TO A CONCERT AND IT WAS GREAT! I needed that honestly and so worth the lack of sleep lol Which explains why my reply is so late so sorry for the wait! But I hope yours was good at least!
Now... THE BALCONY EXTRA 😭 Tell my why I had a feeling she was going to be pregnant😭 and the way HARRY FIGURED IT OUT 😭 ugh it was so cute seeing how he was trying to not freak out haha and I love the comedy aspect that you add to your stories like that pee joke was hilarious i giggled lol That was such a cute little extra it made my heart feel so warm! Great as always!! Also side note, that divider was so cute!!
Ily so much Sam! Hope the week is treating you well!-💜
LOL style. I think it's called "millennial-retro classic" ☠ I don't think I have style. I am a skinny jeans, cardigan, side-parted hair (granted my hair is frizzy/wavy/curly so I look like a serial killer with a middle part), ballet flats kinda girl. But I'm also a teacher so I feel like I dress like one most of the time. This looks like how I dress:
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I'm pretty reserved when it comes to clothing but I almost don't care? It's just pretty much I buy what I want to buy. I'm a leggings/jeans and t-shirt combo on my days off hehehe. What's your style like?
I don't want to pry into your family life too much but it sounds like you could snag a GREAT deal on your FAFSA if your fam is such a high % Native 👀 Also on the family thread, I love the vibe. I'll let you know if the drama is ever unfolded in my life. I just like the vindication of being right. It's petty and mean of me but the family I love but don't like is often two-faced and I think they could all be knocked down a peg.
I went to an extremely judgmental high school (I know every high school is like that) but I grew up in a pretty affluent/vacation/trendy area and it felt like I was less for not having real Uggs or a NorthFace jacket. Then I went to college and everyone was like "just get it at Target" and I was like "WHERE?!" Eye-opening. The real stuff they don't tell you about college hahaha
I never expect anyone to take my advice but I know since we're so similar it's nice to hear from other people what you want to hear (even if you don't use the advice) it's kind of like confirmation? So of course, do what you have to do and live your life how you see fit. I just don't want you to have any regrets 💕
A CONCERT how nice! Who was the concert for? It sounds like a nice pick me up! My weekend was once more exhausting. My school district has their spring break next week. ALSO I was in the partial eclipse path yesterday and it was SO cool and just what the little astronomer in me needed 💕
THANK YOU SO MUCH. (Tbh I think I'm hilarious--I'm my own target audience) but of course it's so nice to hear that you think my humor fits in well enough to my stories! I really didn't know what to do with them so I thought making her pregnant might be a vibe hahaha I'm glad you enjoyed as always!!
Glad you had a good weekend and hope you're having a good week too!
xoxo
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servin-up-surveys · 6 months
Text
survey #191
Do you have a large dog? If not, are you afraid of them? No, we literally have a chihuahua lol, but I'm not scared of them at all.
Has anyone ever told you that they loved you, and you didn’t say it back? Yes.
Who is your favorite photographer? Anastasiya Dobrovolskaya. She's well-known for a portrait of three different colored hair women holding three differently colored foxes.
Were you shy in high school? Not very, no.
Did the last guy/girl you kissed have any piercings? No.
Do you actually love your parents? Yes. I feel some amount of soreness and aching over my dad, but I still love him.
Do you know anyone autistic? My niece and very likely myself; I'm finally being examined for it next month.
Do you like your girlfriend’s/boyfriend’s parents? I love his mom, even though I very much disagree with her religious beliefs and how intense she is about them. I never got to meet his dad; Girt's told me that we would've disagreed on a whole lot, and he's always described him as having been a hardass, but I certainly still respect him and how dedicated a husband and father he was.
Do you like Polaroid photography? Yeah, it's very aesthetically pleasing to me.
Who was the last family member of yours that died? One of Mom's cousins recently did.
Do you have any gay family members? Yes, another of Mom's cousins, possibly second or third, idr.
Would you be upset if you caught your boyfriend looking at porn? No, I'd only be upset if he tried to hide that fact from me.
What is your favorite type of cat? Oriental shorthairs.
Who of the opposite sex has seen you at your worst? Either Jason or Girt, I can't decide which instance was really my true "worst."
Were you raised by someone other than your parents? No.
What’s the last chore you did? I emptied the dishwasher.
What is your favorite jungle animal? Probably tigers, or clouded leopards. Or red pandas... lol idk, there are so many.
Is your father injured? He has back problems, but that's all I know.
Are you part Native American? Not to my knowledge, no.
What are your pets’ names? Roman, Venus, and Cookie, whom we didn't name.
Have you ever worked two jobs? No.
What are the names of all the dogs you’ve ever owned? Trigger, Angel, Teddy, Dale, Delilah, Cali, Bentley, and Cookie are the ones I count. I think we briefly had Harley, my older sister's former dog, but it was very short-lived, and we also had a dog for like, not even a week before Cookie, and I can't remember what Mom named her in the brief time she was here, she just wasn't for us.
Would you ever get a face tattoo? It's doubtful. If I do, it would absolutely be something very small and subtle.
Who in life have you felt the strongest need to protect? Probably Jason when he had bronchitis, apparently my "mama bear" response only exists for partners and it's weird.
What is the cruelest thing a person has ever said to you? She basically called me a liar about being traumatized because I "did the same thing to her" and don't even get me fucking started on this shit
Who have you most feared in your life? My dad.
What is your strongest reason for your opinion on abortion? What goes on in someone's own body is fucking nobody else's business. You don't wanna share it with another growing life form, that's your goddamn right.
What one natural thing would you most like to see? Aurora borealis.
Do you like the game Tetris? No, it actually really stresses me out lmao
What’s the most rebellious thing you’ve ever done? I'm unsure.
Have you ever wanted to be a model? No.
Do you like your name how it’s spelled? Actually no, I prefer "Britney" since that's how you *actually* pronounce it.
Who was your first online friend? It was Mazzy!
Your last ex: how did you two get together? I actually had a dream of us together and woke realizing "... oh" lmao.
Does your mom dye her hair? Yes, she's self-conscious of her gray so adds more brown occasionally.
What’s the best kind of video game? (Adventure, shooting, etc) Horror is what I have the most fun with.
Do you know anyone who has road rage? My younger sister does.
Have you ever had a controlling boyfriend/girlfriend? No, I ain't playin that game.
Have you ever tried to break up anyone because YOU liked the guy/girl? So actually no. In the situation where my best friend's boyfriend liked me when I was 12, even though I flirted back, I didn't actually want them to break up. I was just being reckless and dumb and not truly realizing my actions had consequences until he was saying he loved me. I also never actively tried splitting Jason and Ashley up, though boy trust me my bitter ass wanted to, but I had just enough self control to not go 100% child.
Do you draw fanart of anything? Not regularly whatsoever, but I have before.
What was the last music video you watched? Did you like it? "Sport frei" by Lindemann, and it was fine, yeah.
What’s a condition you have that you haven’t been officially diagnosed with? I am like 99.99% sure I'm a high-masking autistic, and apparently ever since childhood, some people (including my mother ofc) have wondered, we just never truly looked into it.
Which one of your parents do you think is smarter? I know Mom is.
Have you ever supported anyone’s Kickstarter? If so, what was it? No, but I would if I had my own income and was exposed to one I really liked.
What band has the power to make you cry by splitting up? Oh Rammstein for sure lol, their retirement probably isn't too terribly far off and it already scares me lmao, I need ONE concert.
Would you feel funny if you kissed somebody of the same sex? I've done this before and no, I didn't feel weird.
Can grills be sexy on a guy? I think they're unattractive on anyone.
What’s your favorite comic book/graphic novel? I don't read these and never really have.
Do you prefer original or sour Skittles? Sour.
Do you find it easy to pass the time or do you get really bored? One of my primary depression symptoms is anhedonia, do the math.
Have you ever been in a Catholic confessional? Yes, don't do this shit to your kids btw, I still hold bitterness over being forced into this as a child.
Who was the last non-relative you rode in a vehicle with? Girt.
What was the title of the last song you listened to? "Altes Fleisch"
Who is the lead singer of your favorite band? Obviously Ozzy himself; Till Lindemann.
Do you expect to be married in the next 2 years? No.
Have you ever had an allergic reaction to an insect? No.
Who IMed you on Facebook last? My friend Summer.
Is there an item that you bought on a whim, but now consider it a crucial part of your life and you would or have purchased it again? Possibly, idk.
What flags do you have in your room, if any? None.
What was the last thing you ate? A sandwich.
What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? Hurricanes.
Do you or your parents rake your yard? No, it's very environmentally unfriendly anyway.
If you’re not straight, who was the first person you came out to? Sara.
What do you think of the ‘Healthy At Every Size’ movement/philosophy? I don't agree with this, and mind you this is coming from an obese person. I believe it's perfectly possible to not equate one's worth to their weight (like being fatphobic, which is absolutely evil) while still not encouraging bodies that by definition cannot function in a truly healthy manner. I more so believe in "unhealthy at any size," which is just meant to imply that someone's external appearance doesn't automatically decide their health; everyone's body is different, and what goes on inside doesn't always match the exterior.
Where did you meet the last person you swapped numbers with? She's my boyfriend's mother.
Who was the last person to add you as a friend on Facebook? Ariel, who owns the horses I recently took photos of.
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o-flynn-o · 1 year
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"Keys to Freedom" - Depression
"If you can get your mind out, you can get out."
If you woke up today, you're still walking this earth, and you have breath in your lungs; You still have time and an opportunity to make those good choices and changes.
Time is one of the most valuable resources we have and one thing we do not get more of, make the best of it.
Another valuable resource we have is our mind. Often what occupies your mind will dictate the direction your life starts to go. You should treat it like it's the most expensive piece of real-estate. Don't let just any old thing take up space in your mind. Don't let just any old thing take up your time.
I've struggled with depression on and off through out my life. And like an answer to getting out of poverty, it's a mind set. After a long while of dealing with despair and waves of overwhelming sadness, I didn't want to feel that way any more. I've had some good times in my life. I remember what that's like and I wanted it back.
So I started studying, asking questions, establishing a process of elimination to get to the root cause/problem. And I give God the glory, He has walked me through this whole mess.
So I'm going to tell you about "keys" I found to get out along the way.
Going to "extremes"- Feeling the urges or need to self harm. Feeling the need to make a "drastic" change. Excessive substance abuse.
I found the physical things I wanted to do, like self harm or drastic changes to, my hair, or appearance. Was really my desperate need to change something that was hurting in my heart or my mind. And was manifested in the way of making physical changes. It felt like it releaved something, it helped for a little while, but this was not fixing the real problem. And I didn't have anyone in my life to tell me that's what was actually happening; and leading me out or teaching me what I needed to do.
Other contributors to being emotionally unstable and unhappy:
Just going where ever the wind blew me. Letting life happen haphazardly, instead of being intentional and trying to shape and mold it into something I wanted it to be.
Another key: Be intentional, is not, something I heard or was taught when I was young. I had to stumble through things on my own and fail and fall a lot to learn. I didn't have a close guide to teach me how to deal with things or how to live in a healthy way. I needed someone to pay closer attention and explain emotions, healthy relationships/friendships, and life situations. I think of it like digging a specific channel for water to flow through. So that my life, like that water, would flow down a better path.
Better relationships and friendships: A good portion of suffering or pain came from bad friends or who I was dating. Taking your time and "reading" the person first, figuring out who they are and if they're actually good for you is vital to healthy situations.
Some of this can come from family too. It was kind of unbelievable that some of the most painful roots to recognize as a problem came from people I was supposed to be able to trust. Abandonment, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, mental and emotional manipulation, and in a couple situations physical abuse.
I've had some of the most awful things said and done to me by people I should have been able to trust.
And my answer for that, another key, try to recognize it, and don't let it sink in. Don't let it get deep in your heart or let it embed itself in your mind. Once it happens establish a boundary for yourself, keep it at arms length outside yourself.
And to people reading this; Please stop and think about what you're about to say to friends, family, or loved ones. The power of life and death is in the tounge. For instance saying you're just like your mom or just like your dad or (insert name here). What are you really saying? What is this person you are comparing really like? If the person in question is a narcissist, a liar, an abuser, a manipulator? You are speaking death over whoever you're aiming it at.
It is important speak life, speak things in faith, plant good seeds to take root and help that person grow or get better.
Another key: You can also speak life over yourself. I've had to do that when I didn't see it happening around me. I had to go find it, collect it, and use it daily. God's word is a great source for encouragement and soul food. (one thing, because of the verses that tell us about what He really created us to be.) I also collected things I wanted to hear someone else say to me; in love, in encouragement, in nurturing things I wanted to make stonger about myself. And in helpful common sense, to keep me grounded and focused.
Part 1...to be continued...
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camscendants · 3 years
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The urge to cut my hair is strong today
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messers-moony · 3 years
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My Everything | S.B
Paring: Sirius Black X Wife!Reader
Summary: When five marauders goes to two within the instance of a day. Two children are left without fathers and a wife is left without a husband.
Request: Sirius Black x Wife!reader reuniting and she's Remus sister
A/N: My first Harry Potter request. I got so excited to see this in my inbox and I hope it isn’t the last :)
Perhaps it was the feeling of betrayal she felt when he was finally gone. The fact that everything he’d ever said was a lie. She couldn’t help but think maybe his vows were a lie too. The five Marauders were now two. Only two left. How did this even happen? 
The unbreakable group of five. James Potter, the so-called leader of them all. The mom friend who always made sure everyone was okay and cared for. Sirius Black, the second in command. The mischievous, charismatic troublemaker who was always in detention. Peter Pettigrew, the outcast of them all. The shy and naive boy who gave them all a sense of logic. Remus Lupin, the intelligent and solace of them all. The only boy smart enough not to get caught. Y/n Lupin, the creative and sneaky one. The only one who could sneak and out of the Potions cabinet without Slughorn noticing. 
Now it was just the Lupin twins who, as Sirius called them, the “Linking Lupins.” It was hard in the beginning. First-year was difficult. All they had was each other. Lyall hadn’t really been accepting in the first place, but Hope was always blissfully unaware of her son's problem. All she knew was that he had to go away once a month. Lyall cursed himself out every night that Remus went away, cursing himself for letting this happen to his son. 
The cries of his baby girl begging for her brother. The wails of Y/n pleading for Remus not to go away. Not wanting to let go of him, hearing Remus from inside the room in the basement begging to be let out. Sobbing, crying for his mum or his dad to let him out, praying that the wolf doesn’t take over. Whimpering at how much it hurts the way his bones dislocate and relocate back together in a new way. 
So yeah, first year was challenging. But Dumbledore had a safe place for him to go every evening of the full moon, and Y/n would be there when he woke up every time. Remus relished in the way her hands felt in his. They were so soft compared to his calloused ones. So gentle compared to his often rough movements. Small compared to big. She was everything he wasn’t, and he was happy about that. 
James Potter was the first to talk to them with his flamboyant nature. His eyes were the lightest of browns with spotted glittering green. His smile was perfect and straight. How could someone’s smile be that way at the ripe age of eleven? Despite his aura screaming, “I’m the popular kid, and you’re the loser,” he was actually quite nice. 
Upon looking at James, the Lupin twins both thought of trouble. They remembered the popular kids from their muggle school before this one, how they used to belittle Remus for his scars and how Y/n used to push them away. So, forgive them for being a little cautious around him. It didn’t help that James’ counterpart was the opposite of them both. 
Sirius Black, lanky and confident. This boy had no boundaries and absolutely no limits. If he wanted it, he was going to get it. His eyes were the purest iron, and his smile was white like quartz. Hair black as coal and personality as gregarious as the color wheel. His style was toned back, but his character could’ve put the color wheel to shame with how bright he was. Sirius Black could’ve been the antonym to Remus and Y/n Lupin. 
During second year they found another boy who was being beaten by Slytherins for his scarlet and golden robes. He was stocky, and it seems that he was pretty timid. His blond hair was disheveled, and his blue eyes full of fright. Y/n had stepped in front of him just like she had Remus from the bullies back in muggle school. Her wand was held tight in her grip as she stared at them. 
“What are you gonna do, Loony Lupin?” One of them snarled. 
“Aguamenti.” 
The Slytherins were now covered in water. Damp like they had all taken a shower with their clothes on. Their black robes turned a shade darker. The evergreen accents turned olive, and the silver turned into grey. The main Slytherin boy gritted his teeth, and his icy eyes stared into Y/n’s e/c ones. 
“You’ll pay for that.”
Y/n pocketed her wand in her robes, smiling sweetly, “I’m sure I will. Now, run along before I do something worse.”
They didn’t want to obey, but they also didn’t want to stay in that situation. The Slytherins scurried off like dogs following their owner's command. Y/n fixed her hair with her hand and turned around. She was offering her soft hand to the boy who was frozen, shocked, staring at her. Hesitantly he gripped her hand, allowing her to pull him up. She was only slightly shorter than him. 
“Y/n Lupin.” She introduced, “You are?”
“Pe- Peter Pettigrew.”
Y/n bowed playfully, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Peter.” 
“Pleasure.” Peter muttered shyly as her group of friends approached. 
Remus swung an arm around her shoulders, “You’re bloody brilliant, you know?”
“Our star.” Sirius swooned jokingly as Y/n punched his shoulder, causing him to pout, “Who’s this?” James queried, looking at Peter, who cowered under the hazel-eyed gaze. 
“Boys,” Y/n smiled brightly, “This is our new member of the Marauders. Peter Pettigrew.”
Peter fiddled with his hands anxiously, “New- New member?”
“Mhm!” Y/n hummed, “You’re our new addition.”
James smiled, “Any friend of Y/n’s is a friend of ours. Welcome, Peter.”
From then it went from four to five. Peter never really stopped thanking them for letting him in. For the first time, Peter felt at home, and it was thanks to Y/n. He realized how kind she was, how creative she was. It was so strange. The group was so different, like extraordinarily diverse, yet they worked together so well. Y/n and Remus seemed to be the brains of things. James and Sirius seemed to be the trouble makers. Peter just did his own thing but always contributed. 
In fifth year Remus started to worry. Everyone was so secretive. They stopped hanging around as much, even his sister. It hurt. It really hurt to see them seeking around on the map that he and Y/n created together for the most part. It wasn’t until during the winter break did Y/n finally realize what they were doing affected them. 
Remus barely cried. Or at least that’s what people made it out to seem. Remus actually cried a decent amount. He was snuggled up in his room. His blanket encasing him, and his arms held around his pillow tightly, gripping it as if it’d leave him like he felt everyone else was. His heart felt broken. Y/n was outside his door, hearing his soft cries, and gently knocked on the door. 
“Rem. Can I come in, please?”
He didn’t say anything, so she just let herself in. The door closed behind her with a click, and she saw her tall brother curled up into the tightest ball with silver streams on his cheeks. Y/n sat in front of him and rubbed the side of his arm. Remus’ eyes continue to release water like a dam that had been broken. He couldn’t swallow it no matter how hard he tried. 
“What’s wrong, Rem?”
Remus didn’t say anything. He just dug his head deeper into the pillow he was holding. Y/n’s hand made its way to his sandy-colored hair. She was scratching at the scalp and smoothing his hair away from his face keeping the strands from getting wet. Her hand hesitantly reached his cheek and wiped away the tears that kept falling. 
She sighed, “Remus, please.”
“You’re- you’re gon’ leave me, aren’ you.” Remus choked. 
“Leave you?” Y/n questioned softly, afraid if she raised her voice any more, it’d make things worse, “I wouldn’t leave you if I was given a chance, Remmy.”
He sniffled, “You- you haven’ been a- around.”
“I know.” Y/n soothed, caressing his cheek, “But there’s an explanation for it. James, Sirius, Peter, and I have been distant. We know that. But there’s a reason for it. You’ll find out soon.”
Remus’ eyes met his sister's warm e/c ones, “Please don’t leave me.”
“Never.” 
He smiled gently. The corners of his lips barely curled, but she knew it was there. Remus had fallen asleep with his sister's hand in his hair. When she was sure he was sleeping, Y/n left the bedroom, allowing him to sleep peacefully. Then she wrote a letter to James where she knew Sirius was staying too. 
One more week, Y/n thought. One more week of this Mandrake leaf in their mouths until they could be done with this. 
It took another month before it was ready. Before they were ready. They were in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom when they started. James started first. When he turned into a stag, they all began laughing. James turned back, pouting. Sirius turned second into a huge black dog. Y/n smiled and petted his head. 
“Very fitting, Sirius.”
Sirius turned back, letting Peter turn next. He was so tiny that Sirius almost stepped on him. James and Y/n sniggered at their rat friend. Next was Y/n, who turned into a graceful cat. Her fur was black, and her eyes were a striking e/c. James smirked and nudged Sirius. 
“Matching animagus’, eh?”
Sirius scowled, “Cats and dogs don’t match.”
Y/n turned back, “Don’t they?”
“Ready for this full moon?” James asked them all. 
“‘Course!”
“Yep!”
“Can’t wait.”
That full moon was better than them all. Remus had people to join him. There was something that he noticed, though. Every time he’d get close to the cat, the dog would growl and stand in front of her. It was like the dog was protecting what was his. Y/n noticed it too. Every time Remus got close, Sirius stood in front of her, keeping him at a safe distance. 
It wasn’t until a quiet night in the Marauders dorm did Remus finally bring it up, “Sirius.”
“Remus.”
“How long?”
Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, “How long what?”
“You know,” Remus moved his hand in a circular motion for him to continue, “How long have you liked my sister?”
“Woah, Remus.” Sirius stated in shock, “That’s quite the accusation.”
Remus tilted his head, “Is it?”
“Yeah. It is.” Sirius replied, “Y/n is my friend. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“So, you not sleeping with any girls for the past year is just a coincidence?” Remus questioned knowingly, “You staring at her during class and parties is just on accident?”
Sirius’ cheeks went pink, “And it’s definitely a coincidence that you always hug her first after every Quidditch match.”
“Okay, fine, fine.” Sirius confessed, “I like Y/n. I have for a while.”
“So why haven’t you asked her out?”
“Excuse me?”
Remus shrugged, “Why haven’t you asked her out yet? You know she enjoys going to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks.”
“Mate, have you forgotten we’re talking about your sister?” Sirius asked, “Like your twin sister?”
“I know.” Remus replied, “She likes you too, you know.”
Sirius’ eyes were practically bulging out of his skull. How in the name of Merlin was Remus so calm about this? He said it so casually as if they were talking about the weather. Sirius expected Remus to get angry or throw a book at him. 
“Are you- Are you giving me permission to date your sister?”
“As long as you don’t hurt her, sure.”
Sirius hesitated before asking his next question, “Can you help me do it?”
Remus smirked, “Casanova of Hogwarts can’t ask out Y/n?”
“Please, Remus.” Sirius begged, “I really like her, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”
Remus snorted, “You always fuck things up.”
“That’s why I need you!” 
Remus just smirked triumphantly. 
“Pleaaaseeeeeee.”
“Alright, fine.” Remus relented, “Just be cool about it, yeah? Take her to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks. She’d enjoy that a lot. Maybe take her to Tomes and Scrolls.”
“You’re a lifesaver!” 
“Yeah, yeah.” Remus rolled his eyes, “Now shut up. ‘M tired.”
The following day Sirius and Y/n did go to Hogsmeade together. She was amazed when they went into Honeydukes together. She picked out some of her favorite sweets and some for Remus since the full moon was a week away. When she went to pay for it, Sirius pushed her hand away, paying for it himself. Y/n wouldn’t stop thanking him. 
Next, they went to Tomes and Scrolls. On any ordinary occasion, Sirius would’ve hated this. Truth be told, he wasn’t really a reader or a book person in general. But for her, he’d do absolutely anything. Y/n picked out some new books and began raving to Sirius about one in particular. So again, Sirius paid for them and told her to find a table in the Three Broomsticks. 
Sirius went to the area where the book she was raving about was found. He grabbed one for himself, planning to read and annotate it for her. Maybe he’d give it to her as a birthday gift or just a random gift. Nonetheless, he knew she’d love it, and Sirius would fall off a cliff if she asked him to. 
Inside he found her sitting with a hot chocolate and a butterbeer for himself. Sirius slid into the booth smiling at her. They talked about everything and anything. Sirius even went as far as to tell her some stuff about his family the other guys didn’t know about. He went on about how he envied Remus and her relationship wanting the same thing with Regulus. 
Sirius told her how he wanted his future to look. How many tattoos he wanted. Where he wanted to live. How many children he wanted. So on and so forth. He was so open and so honest it surprised her. Generally, if someone asked Sirius what he wanted his future to look at, he’d just shrug. Now he was spilling everything to her. 
It didn’t take long after that for them to become official. Remus smiled when she announced it. He was happy for her. Remus could see how happy Sirius made her, and for that, he was grateful that someone could take care of her in his absence. Y/n only wanted that for him too. One day she’d have a family, and Remus wouldn’t be her main priority. That scared her because, for all seventeen years of her life, it was just her and Remus. 
After graduating from Hogwarts, they got married. It wasn’t anything huge, especially with Voldemort on the rise, but it happened. James was Sirius’ best man, and Marlene was Y/n’s maid of honor. Remus walked Y/n down the aisle and gently kissed her cheek before letting her go. Seeing Sirius and Y/n get married made James overjoyed to marry Lily, but that would happen all in due time. 
So what was it that made her feel this way? Was it the betrayal? Was it the dishonesty? Was it the disloyalty? What was it in truth? The moment Sirius was locked away in Azkaban, everything changed. When Remus heard about it, she was his first stop. Inside he saw her with a baby on her lap. Their baby boy, just a year old. He was born only months before Harry. 
Little Perseus Sirius Black. Y/n’s pride and joy. He was everything to her. Remus had walked into the house seeing his broken sister holding her child close to her as he cried. Remus walked in and gently took the child from her arms, allowing her to lean on his shoulder as he held Perseus. The little boy smiled at the familiar face of his uncle. 
“Rem!” 
Remus smiled softly, “Hey, Perseus.”
It took a long time for Y/n to collect herself. Remus had taken a spot in the house since he couldn’t find a place by himself. Y/n worked at the ministry most days, and Remus would take care of her little troublemaker. As Perseus grew, he looked more and more like his mother. The same e/c eyes and h/c hair. The only thing that made him look like a Black was his defined body and facial structure. 
The sharp jawline, the defined nose, the straight cheekbones, the semi-hollow cheeks, and the pointed chin. His features were that of the Noble House of Black, yet he could’ve made his way to look like a Lupin even more. For a while, Y/n worked a lot. She was trying to keep her family afloat. But it wasn’t until Remus said he got a job offer at Hogwarts did she have to stop. Working for her felt like nothing. Every day she was worried about Perseus going to school. Especially with Sirius being out of Azkaban. 
The night that Remus saw Peter Pettigrew on the map, he knew something was wrong and sent Y/n and owl for her to come to Hogwarts. Without hesitation, she did. On the night of that full moon, she was also down in the Shrieking Shack, holding Harry close to her, not wanting him to get hurt. When everything got resolved, she cried. 
Y/n went home that night rethinking everything. A week later, Remus and Perseus returned home. She couldn’t remember holding Percy that tight ever. Y/n was just thankful that he was safe and he was home. That night that Y/n and Remus told Percy what really happened, why his father was never really in the picture. 
A year later is when Perseus finally met his father - well, that he can remember. He was fifteen now, going into his fifth year at Hogwarts when Y/n and Remus took him to Grimmauld Place 12. It felt foreign, and it felt evil. Needless to say, Percy didn’t like the place. Inside, Sirius was waiting for them along with many others. 
When the door opened and shut gently, he knew it was her. For the first time in over twelve years, he’d be allowed with his wife again. The woman he loved and the woman he felt the most solace with. He’d also see the boy that he used to know grown up into a young adult. The young gentleman Sirius always wanted. 
Perseus stood in front of her, Y/n’s hands on his shoulders. Sirius almost chuckled at it. Percy was protecting her even if she didn’t know it herself. He stood in front of her for a reason, to make sure she’d be safe. Sirius stood in front of them, swallowing harshly. 
“Remus, Y/n.” He choked on the last name.
“Good evening Sirius.” Remus greeted politely, “How have you been?”
Sirius shuffled, “I’ve been better.”
Remus hugged him, whispering in his ear, “Don’t fuck this up.”
“Hey, Siri.” Y/n smiled with tears in her eyes, “Hey, love.”
Gently she walked in front of Percy and hugged him tightly. Sirius’ arms went around her waist, and his nose dug into her hair. The scent of her perfume and shampoo calming his nerves slightly. Y/n dug her head into his neck and placed her arms around him. They pulled away and smiled. Gently he kissed her forehead. 
“I’m sorry for believing that you would ever,” She looked down, “You know.”
Sirius picked her chin back up gently, “You have nothing to be sorry for, love.”
Y/n kissed his lips softly. His lips were far from how she remembered. They were no longer soft and tasted of smoke. Instead, they were chapped and tasted of firewhiskey. Perhaps some things never change. Their lips melded together perfectly, just as they did so many years ago. They pulled apart, smiling brightly. She pulled from his embrace to stand by his side. 
“Sirius, this is-“
“Perseus, I know.” 
Perseus smiled nervously; they had the same smile, the same straight smile, “Hi.”
“Hi.”
It was silent for a while as Perseus shuffled, “Are you- are you staying this time?”
“I’d like to.” Sirius replied, “I’m not quite sure the extent of my living abilities, but I’ll be here.”
“I’m- I'm in Slytherin.”
“Okay.”
Perseus looked incredulously, “Okay? That’s all you have to say?” 
“There’s nothing wrong with being in Slytherin.” Sirius stated, “Your heart is in the right place.”
“How would you know?” Percy snapped, “You’ve been gone for most of my life. You don’t know anything about me.”
Sirius quirked an eyebrow, “So you standing in front of your Mather was just a happy accident? You weren’t planning on protecting her. Shall something go wrong?”
Percy looked at the ground, “Someone had to make sure she was safe while you were gone.” 
“That’s not fair.” 
“Life isn’t fair!” Percy yelled, “You left us. You don’t realize how badly you hurt her while you were gone.”
Remus walked back into the corridor to see Y/n frozen staring at her son. Sirius was standing in an argumentative stance. Percy’s eyes were filling with tears of frustration as he stared at the man who abandoned him from the start. 
“You left me. You left mum. You left Remus.” Percy cried, “How did you expect this to go, huh?”
Sirius didn’t say anything, “Did you expect me to be happy?! Did you expect me to hug you and fall into your arms?!” Percy shouted, “Because I’m not. I’m not happy, and I’m not going to fall into your arms and hug you like a naive little boy. My mum deserves better than this bullshit.”
“Enough!” Remus snapped, and Percy froze, “Your father is risking his life to be here right now. To meet you. I get it. I wouldn’t be happy either if my father did what Sirius did. But with things, the way they are right now is holding a grudge really that important?”
“N- No, sir.”
“Percy.” Y/n called, and he stared at her with watery eyes as she approached him, “I get it. You’re angry, you’re upset, but he’s still your father. He wants to be here now.”
“B- But he-“
“I know, my love. He’s going to try and make up for it. You don’t have to trust him right away. You don’t have to say ‘I love you’ right away. He isn’t expecting that.” Y/n wiped the tears from his cheeks, “All he’s expecting is his son. The little boy that he last saw.”
Percy looked down, “I know you aren’t that little boy, and I wish you still were. The little boy that used to make me smile and laugh. The little boy that used to cause mischief around the house driving Remus mad.” 
Sirius smiled, “You’re older now, and that will take some getting used to. I know you don’t remember, but Sirius used to be the only one who could get you to stop crying. He used to hold you all night, sleep with you in the rocking chair.”
“Sirius used to babble nonsense to you while I was at work. He used to take you to the park. Make you laugh by turning into a dog.” Percy sniffled, “Back then, Sirius was your everything, baby.”
Percy hugged his mom tight, “I- I’m scared.”
It was only loud enough for her to hear, “Why, baby?”
“What if- what if he leaves again?”
“He’s not going to.” Y/n moved the hair from his face, “Sirius wouldn’t leave us unless he had to.”
Percy knew what that meant. Sirius wouldn’t leave unless he got killed or died. Percy looked at Sirius’ eyes which were filled with tears from recalling the moments of his past. Y/n smiled reassuringly before Percy allowed himself to hug his father. He was wrapping his arms around his stomach, nuzzling his nose into his chest. 
When they pulled apart, Sirius smiled, “You’re my everything, kiddo.”
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thepenultimateword · 2 years
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Hi!! Can you please write a story about this prompt:
https://just-a-few-prompts.tumblr.com/post/639624968096841728
Love ur writing and I feel like you would be able to do great things with it!!
Thank you! I'll do my best!
CW: kidnapping, mentions of bullying and self-harm
As it turned out, a villain first need your address before he could rat you out to your mom, something that became painfully clear as Villain's brusque stride came to a halt a couple blocks from the the alleyway that was almost Hero's final resting place.
"Ok, kid," Villain said. "Which way?"
Hero sniffled from where he dangled over Villain's shoulder, hair hanging over his face like a curtain and arms swinging limply. "Don' wanna."
"Listen here you little brat--" Villain began but then stopped, suddenly plopping Hero onto the ground in front of himself. Hero thought about making a run for it, but Villain had one hand clamped dangerously around his neck, and Hero wasn't completely sure Villain wouldn't still barbecue him. "You know what, I'm just going to--"
And in one swift movement, Hero's mask was in the criminal's hand.
"Hey!" Hero cried at the same time that the Villain let out a barely audible gasp.
For two sickening seconds, Hero thought that the criminal recognized him. He wasn't sure if he could handle finding out Villain was someone from his life, a neighbor, a teacher, a family friend. His double lives were supposed to be separate--he'd made painstakingly sure of that--and one intruding on the other felt like shattering piece of reality. He'd trained himself to direct people's perception of him in each identity, but maybe in the process he'd split his own perceptions of the world. Villains belonged as masked criminals on rooftops, they didn't belong as regular people in everyday life.
Luckily, instead of crying out the hero's identity, the villain touched his burning fingers to the mottled bruises, all in different stages of healing, inking up most of his face.
"This is what you're exposing yourself to by playing hero?" Villain said. Their voice took up that strange frustrated but non-threatening tone again.
Hero chuckled through the tightness left over in their throat from crying. "What? No. I didn't even get those on the job, their just from school. My mom knows about those. Who knew bullies could make such a great cover story, huh?"
He thought he said it lightly, but for some reason, Villain was still looking at him like he was a wounded puppy. It was getting weird. Villain had never held back on him before, and he seemed the type of person who shouldn't have mercy in his vocabulary.
"And the school hasn't done anything?"
What was even happening right now? Half an hour ago they were beating each other up. Villain was about to kill him! But now the criminal was almost acting tender, and it was...it was... It was just weird!
"It's not exactly like they do it where everyone can see," Hero muttered, "and everyone already thinks I hurt myself, so..."
At the Villain's look, he quickly added, "I don't! It's just a rumor that got spread because I started showing up with cuts and bruises from the heroing. And since the social workers couldn't find anything wrong at home, and no one can prove I'm being bothered at school, everyone's kinda been left at a stalemate. But I mean, that's fine. Like I said, the bullies make a great cover."
It was another one of those instances of keeping his identities separate. [Hero] could fight off the bullies easily, but [Civilian] didn't have that power. If he suddenly got good at defending himself, people might start paying attention.
"I'd kill them," Villain said finally lifting their burning hand from the back of Hero's neck. "Easy solution."
"Yeah, and that's what everyone expects of me," Hero said dryly. "Pretty sure most of the school thinks I'm going to grow up to be the next big serial killer, so... It's satisfying enough to hear them rave about [Hero]."
"Ugh," Villain said, "I didn't know you heroes came this way as babies."
"I'm sixteen!" Hero reminded him.
"Like I said, babies." His expression turned slightly sinister. "Seriously, kid, you have the spirit, but leave this to the professionals until you at least hit drinking age. Most people in this business won't care how old you are. You're just an obstacle they need out of their way."
Hero pursed his lips and looked at the ground before mumbling, "You didn't kill me."
"I'm not a child murderer. Ugh!" He raked both hands through his hair. "See? This is why we're going to talk with your parents. You have no idea what you're even doing."
"I do too!" Hero hated how childish it sounded coming out, and repeated it more firmly and with less of a whine. "I do."
Villain stared at him for a long time, but Hero met his eyes hard eyes determinedly.
"Give me your address," Villain said. It sounded like a warning this time. It suddenly occurred to Hero what giving his address to a criminal might mean. It wasn't just being grounded by eternity by his mom, it was giving Villain all his greatest weaknesses. He'd said criminals didn't care about age to do bad things, so what made him any different? He could be lying. Hero had fought Villain for a few months now; the guy was evil.
"N-no," Hero said and braced himself to be hit or burnt or a number of other painful things.
Villain just raised his eyebrow. "Is that your final answer?"
So this is what it meant to die for the people you loved. Hero thought he'd feel calmer about it, but honestly, he wanted to puke. Still, the thought of Villain slaughtering his mom and then exposing him to the world made him clench his jaw.
"I won't tell you anything."
Villain let out a long sigh. "Not a smart answer, kiddo."
Hero braced themself, only to have their world suddenly tipped upside down as they were slung back over Villain's shoulder.
"Hey!" Hero pounded Villain's shoulder blades. "Hey! Where are you taking me?"
"I may not have much of a conscience," Villain said evenly, ignoring Hero's frantic squirming. "But I draw the line at letting kids get themselves tortured and killed. You don't want to tell me where you live? You'll just have to come home with me."
Hero's stomach lurched, and their brain flashed with a quick montage of all the trouble they were in for tomorrow if they were kidnapped right now. Their math test, their art final, those library books that needed returning, not to mention their mom really would ground them for eternity if they weren't back by morning. They were stupid thoughts, maybe a mask for the real terror making itself known in the pit of Hero's stomach. Still, when Hero tried to protest, all that came out was a lame:
"B-but, my art project--"
"Congratulations," Villain said with artificial gooey sweetness. "You're homeschooled now."
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awakeshedreams · 3 years
Text
sugar and spice ( 1 )
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pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader
setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au
summary :
a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school's resident bad boy.... Jeon Jungkook.
genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension
rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content
warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don't like don't read XD
wordcount : 2.3K
a/n : i've been fighting in a long standing war and I have lost. the man known as jeon jungkook had his foot on my neck for years and today, I have finally submitted to my fate and surrendered to his reign.
yes. after a hundred years, i'm writing again. specifically, writing for bts. particularly, writing for jungkook. its been a long time coming.
life just took over and I transitioned into an adult and kind of grew out of the state of mind I was in before. but. sigh. jeon jungkook has been tormenting me the whole time. it was only a matter of time before i relapsed honestly.
so here I am again. in mind, body and spirit, a different person from who I was before but still the same in the sense that with the way bts have my whole heart, jk will always be the demon in the corner of my room that I invite to bed for a cuddle even though it's (probably really) not good for me.
do not misconstrue. I love him more than I can say. but. sigh. he has me in a chokehold, loves. please try to understand where I'm coming from.
anyways, enough with this ranting. you all came here for the nitty gritty so let me not hold you hostage with my dilemma rambling any longer. here's to the first bts fic i've posted in literal years. introducing- sugar and spice.
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Unless they told someone, no one would have been able to guess it.
At school they were complete strangers.
She was the nice head girl with a clean record, all smiles and straight A’s. He was the mysterious bad boy with a track record, all tatted up with bruised knuckles.
She wore plaid skirts with neat pleads in them and pastel sweaters with bows at the collar. He wore jeans with rips in them and leather jackets with studs.
They couldn't have been any more different.
As far as anyone was concerned, they existed on two extreme ends of a vast spectrum.
What they didn't know was that they shared a dirty little secret.
.
You were a girl with many dirty secrets.
For instance, you used to sell nudes online. It was a side hustle you did.
Not because you needed money.
Your mom was a renowned doctor so there was more than enough of that in your life.
Not because you needed validation from people online either.
Even without the constant compliments and the praises you knew you were visually blessed with a pretty face and a nice body too.
All things considered, you simply thought you had a nice pair of tits and you took pictures of them sometimes.
Posting the shots you snapped online came much later when you heard about this website where people were getting paid crazy money for posting racy things.
‘It’s just so degrading…’ It was one of your friends, June, who sneered, pretty nose scrunched up. She fixed her long ponytail and rolled her brown eyes while looking in the mirror at her locker. ‘Who would do such a thing, am I right?’
She said this, but June was the girl who has slept with more boys than she could count on her two hands. And those were the ones she told you about.
Like every other time, you said nothing. Even when it carried on to lunch with the rest.
‘Pretty desperate if you ask me.’ Mei the stellar track runner shrugged casually as she stretched her limbs like routine.
‘Where are their parents?’ Nina the library nerd shook her head in disapproval as she fixed her glasses so it sat right on the bridge of her nose.
‘Um… I don’t think it’s … appropriate… to talk about ….’ Kiko the one who always carried a cross and bible around mumbled into her sleeve.
All your friends spoke of it in derision and repulsion of course. This was a school for proper children so they were proper girls. At least they were supposed to be.
Regardless the conversation sparked a curiosity in you.
So you made an account and uploaded your first picture. Nothing bizarre. Just your tits in a pretty lace bra.
You made sure to keep your face out of the frame because that was the smart thing to do and you were nothing if not the smartest student in school.
In all honesty, you weren’t expecting anything out of it. In fact, in between work with student council and tutoring your juniors with finals right around the corner, you even forgot about it for an entire month.
It was by a complete whim that you decided to open the app while you’d been unwinding at your desk following a tedious day at school.
To say you were amused by the response you found waiting for you would have be a grave understatement.
You were staring at the four figure digit that now sat in your bank account.
Reading through the comment section was even more interesting.
There were all sorts of people there who had all sorts of things to say. Ranging from honestly sweet to downright dirty.
You had never been brought to tears laughing in her life before until then.
It was just so funny to see people misbehave and lose their minds over a pair of tits.
From then on it just sort of became a thing.
.
But that wasn't the worse of your secrets.
You were making a name for yourself on the crude web months later.
The next step was naturally to move from making taking pictures to making videos. Since you was already in too deep you didn’t see why not.
So you upgraded and opened another account. An amateur one where your touched yourself for an audience.
You were no prude.
You might have never been touched by a boy before but you had touched yourself plenty times. Stress and frustration came hand in hand with being head girl. Since you couldn’t quite vent it out at the annoying troublemakers at school, this was your second best option.
Third was watching porn, but that was mostly when you were extremely bored.
But that wasn’t where that little endeavor ended.
Later on it became a lot more risqué.
.
It all started when your mom hit you with a marriage announcement.
She met a guy on her business trip who she really liked and she was convinced he was the one.
Your mom had a tragic history of being a bad judge of character.
You’ve had this conversation at least five times since you became old enough to understand that boys and girls who were just friends didn’t kiss and sleep with each other.
Most times, it felt like she was doing it because she thought you needed a dad around.
You might have once, when you were younger and your mom was too busy with work to be there. But she worked from home these days and you were soo busy with school to worry about things like that.
This time it was like she was doing it for her. You were glad.
Your mom looked genuinely happy when she spoke about this guy.
Who were you to get in the way?
.
She spent almost the whole weekend in the kitchen. It was the longest you’ve seen her in there in your entire life.
She was excited for the dinner on Sunday.
Mr Jeon was the name of the chosen man.
He was coming over with his kid. A son, his only family. His wife passed away years ago.
You wore the dress your mom picked out for you, something cream in color and off the shoulders that brushed your knees. She looked pretty in her champagne dress. It was different from the office slacks and loose blouses you were used to seeing her in.
You stood by her at the door while the guests came through.
Lifting your head from a polite bow, you found herself staring straight into an achingly familiar pair of glinting dark eyes and went completely still.
‘Sweetie,' Your mother said sounding delighted, a soft hand on your stiff shoulder. 'This is Mr Jeon and his son Jungkook.’
Ah. Fuck.
‘Jeon dear, this is my daughter. Isn’t she lovely?’
.
Dinner was a mild affair, with small talk and the occasional clinking of cutlery on fine china.
From the outside looking in, you probably looked the picture perfect family already.
Only if no-one looked close enough.
Arms crossed, tongue in cheek. Your discomfort could be detected from miles away.
The two adults were oblivious.
The dark eyed boy with the slightest wave to his nape touching, brow grazing, ear covering onyx hair sat across you though; he took note of this with a passing glance and wordlessly returned to his food.
Jeon Jungkook had a countenance that betrayed his reputation.
Even though you’ve never talked, you knew plenty about him and you were sure he knew a lot about you too.
You went to the same school.
Dressed as he was in a crisp white dress shirt buttoned at the wrist and dark tailored pants with a fine belt on, it might have been hard to tell what kind of person he really was.
You lifted her gaze from your plate to look study him wordlessly, idly twisting the noodles with your fork.
People either called him the black sheep or the dark cloud but for you, Jeon Jungkook was the school’s resident lone wolf.
He smoked in the secluded areas on campus, sometimes playing his guitar. Beat up people who got on his nerves, sometimes using his guitar. Slept in class the rare times he was there, many times on his guitar.
Being his senior, you had never seen any of any of that for yourself. But you received plenty reports weekly to come to a sound conclusion.
There was no way people hated him enough to join hands in solidarity and make this all up.
It was quite the contrary actually. He had an alarming number of fans.
On the surface level you couldn’t see why. Most times you saw him, he looked bored out his mind and honestly, intimidating.
Maybe it was the tattoos. Or the ripped skinny jeans. Or the leather jackets with studs.
Maybe it was the domineering height and fit frame and structured face.
Maybe it was the intense dark eyes or the silky ruffled hair.
Even then, you failed to see the irresistible appeal in him. All those things that made him up only added to his unapproachable aura.
Bottom line was, he was bad news.
.
You didn’t want to be a spoil sport.
But how much of a thug your mom’s boyfriend’s son was shouldn’t be something that would make her like him less.
They were both their own people. Right ?
It was just that you just didn’t want her to be shocked and devastated if something happened later. When it happened.
Yet it seemed the serious conversation would have to wait.
After dinner your mom suggested you head to the living room to chat over wine and cheese.
You stayed back to do take out the dishes.
Earlier, your mom had stood to do it instead at first.
‘Don’t bother with that, dear.’ She reached for the plates in your hands. ‘Let me do it.’
‘It’s okay, mom.’ You smiled a little. ‘This is your night. I’ll meet you in the living room.’
'Sweetie...' Your mom looked close to tears. ‘But there’s so much of it…’
‘Jungkook,’ his father's voice had cut through the moment. He was a serious man in a crisp suit with a stoic countenance. His voice was just naturally authoritarian without him trying ‘Give her a hand.’
Jungkook stood, almost robotically.
‘It’s fine.’ You said. Politely. Nicely. Tightly. ‘I can handle this much.’
You left without another word.
That had been moments ago and now you were done with cleaning.
You stood at living room entrance for a while, taking in the scene.
The two adults were exchanging moon eyes and whispering in each other’s ears at the love seat.
Jungkook was sitting on a solo seat, but he was on his phone, completely unbothered by what was happening.
Your mom seemed to think it was the perfect time to pull out the photo album right then and there upon seeing you.
It was embarrassing but at least you knew you didn’t have to worry about the pictures spreading at school.
Jungkook was looking, picking up a picture occasionally to rove over, but he wasn’t the type to do that.
He also wasn’t the type to stare but you felt his glance shifting to you and lingering multiple times.
Once, you caught his eyes and he just stared at you across the coffee table wordlessly with a curious tilt to his head, idly flipping a picture of you dressed as a knight in glitter shining armor for Halloween at eight in his hands.
Honestly, it was starting to get annoying.
But you endured. For your mom’s sake.
.
Your alarm went off at exactly ten.
As subtly as you could, you excused yourself with an apology to the guests, saying you weren't really feeling well.
In hindsight you probably should have used a better excuse.
Your mom was notorious when it came to worrying, especially when it comes to your health.
Also, you probably should’ve locked the door before undressing just for good measure since people were over.
But in the moment, you were too busy setting your camera up where you were kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed to be concerned about that.
That day you were testing out a new toy.
.
Distractedly, you took note of a couple of people asking you if that was your boyfriend’s shirt you had lifted over your tits.
You ignored them.
Couldn’t a girl own an oversized tee without getting any flack?
Trivial comments like that aside, a good majority of the audience are fawning over how wet you were and how perfect you bouncing tits look being played with.
Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut.
You were sitting there, knees raised to your chest and legs splayed, your gushing pussy in full display where the toy was stuffed deep into her tightness, vibrating pleasantly.
‘I’m close…’ you mumbled throatily, squeezing your tits and pinching your stiff nipples in between your moving fingers. You moved your hips move faster, feeling the toy buzz against fluttering walls. You took a hand off one of your tits to rub at your engorged clit. ‘Fuckfuckfuck…’
Deep in your high, you didn’t hear the door open and close with a foreboding click.
You only heard your name being called by a deep, smooth voice through the heady haze.
Instantly you stilled.
When you snapped your head to look over her shoulder Jungkook was there, hands in his pockets, leaning against your doorframe with his sleeves drawn up to his elbows, muscle roped, inked skin on full display.
When he tilted his head to the side a little, appraisively, you dared to say as a quaking chill ran down your spine and your entire body felt like it was about to burst into flames, a bit of his hair fell over his face.
His eyes were like two black in the dark as he took you in, dragging his gaze up and down your exposed body languidly.
In the back of your mind, you wished the ground would part and swallow you whole.
‘Your mom,' he starts, capturing your attention wholly, dark gaze finally flickering to your face, his voice suddenly lower, hoarser. ‘She sent me over to check on you.’
It took you a moment to realize where you were, who you were, who he was.
It was like a bucket of cold water had been dropped over your head.
Jeon Jungkook, the school's resident trouble maker, soon to be your step brother, just walked in on you fingering yourself in in front of a recording camera.
Well. Yeah.
You gulped.
You were royally fucked.
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depending on the response I get I might ( most probably will ) delete this. not because I'm ashamed of my work. because I'm embarrassed of myself. I really swore to never write again and here I am. sigh. yes, I have seen my previous works and noticed just how terrible they were and this is a big reason why. so sorry for putting you through that. a million apologies.
also, that's right. I have adopted a new style which might not be to everyone's liking. another reason why.
anyways, if you liked this filth ( i know it seems mild but I can tell you it's very likely gonna get worse ) please idk uh... fuck this isn't ao3. hm.
like and drop by in the ask box if you liked it and want to see more. it makes me happy. its like serotonin fuel to me.
have a nice day. see you next time ( maybe ). stay fresh. yeah. 💜💜.
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livingonfanficseyra · 2 years
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We deserve to see the Sharmas from the book!
I had promised myself that I won't post anything negative about the show because there are a lot of things that I believe they could have done better! (to say the least!)
But one thing that makes me furious is the way they portrayed the Sharma family, especially how they completely almost ruined the characters, Mary and Edwina!
Point number one, in the entire Bridgerton series, there are only two functional families and they are the Sharmas and the Stirlings (if you're okay with Francesca and Michael's story)
BOOK SPOILER: In the rest of the series, every story has main leads with toxic family members, from Simon's dad, Sophie's dad and stepmom to Penelope's mom, Philip's parents, Gareth's "dad" to even Lucy's family!
And they decide to ruin one of the only two beautiful families! 🤦‍♀️
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Second, about Edwina, I completely agree with @onlychaosnosense 's post! It's a real shame what we've had to endure for a love triangle and I don't want to go into all that again. Though I will say that I really missed the book!Edwina who bookish and knew what sort of man she wanted to marry.
Third, coming to Mary Sharma. Mary is my most favorite character in the series (who is not a main hero/ heroine!)
Mary Sheffield/Sharma is a character that is truly an inspiration, both to be kind like her in real life as well as to write a character as brilliant as her, someday. Let's be real, Mary is a stepmom who was the polar opposite of the cruel, stereotypical stepmom that we grew up reading and watching. It was so damn refreshing to see that and I have never felt so much respect for Julia (even though that quickly faded after I read AOFAG).
We don't get to see a even a shadow of the kind, caring and gentle Mary from the book in the show and I don't know if it was a conscious decision to hide Mary as much as they did. Also, I don't know if it was just me or did you think that in almost all the scenes with Mary (few as they were), we get to see the back of Shelley's head more than her face?
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Mary Sharma in the book knew her daughters which makes me question the whole plot wonder why she never noticed Kate's feelings. It is true that she was heartbroken from Mr. Sharma's death, but she was not Violet Bridgerton never made Kate feel that it was her sole responsibility to find a husband for Edwina in the book. She loved and cared for both Edwina and Kate and wanted the best for them. She wanted Kate to focus on finding herself a husband and even played matchmaker between Kate and Anthony (Anthony calling on the Sharma's the first time, just before the fall into the Serpentine).
I won't go into the whole business with the Sheffields in the show! 🙄
I am sure that we could find a lot more instances where they did a disservice to all the three characters and the beautiful bond they shared, and I think the major reason might be because they are trying to sell the show to a larger audience who is looking for drama (and steam).
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That being said, I am not saying that there were no beautiful moments in the show with the three of them. Like I shared in a previous post, I absolutely loved the scene where Kate applies oil on Edwina’s hair. The scene in Episode 8, where Mary and Kate finally have a proper conversation was heart wrenching. And there were a handful of scenes where we could get a glimpse of the real characters.
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I just wish that we had more of those scenes and better arcs for the characters. Sad to say, but the writers really underutilized the talents of Simone, Shelley and Charithra. I really believe we deserved better.
If you've reached till here, thank you for listening to my ramblings. I would love to hear your thoughts! 💖
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denkamis · 3 years
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Can you please write a fluff one shot about a sk8 the infinity like his girlfriend/boyfriend/s/o falls asleep on him
to anon: omg first request omgomg thank you so much for sending one in! i wasn’t sure which sk8 character you were referring to, so i decided to write one for both reki and langa! hope you don’t mind hehe <3 this is the one for reki, the one for langa will take a little bit longer bc of valentine’s & other requests but i hope you like this one regardless!
warnings: none, just some fluffy times with the best boy. reader is gn!
word count: 1.3k
sleepyhead. (reki x reader)
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Late nights were certainly not a rare occurrence with your boyfriend, Reki. He was filled to the brim with energy and passion that practically flowed out of him like a geyser. Not that you were opposed to that at all, you found that it was one of the qualities that made you fall for him in the first place. Though, you worried that he wasn’t taking into consideration his own personal health during these late night excursions. Take for instance tonight, as it was slowly approaching two thirty am, it seemed that the redhead had no clear intention of stopping his work.
The two of you were cooped up in his workshop behind his house, Reki singing along to some “cool jams” as he called them. In reality, it was his Spotify playlist of the “best 2000’s alternative” music like Sk8er Boi by Avril Lavigne and Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low. You were barely hanging onto your string of consciousness, the mere idea of sleep sounding like absolute heaven at this very moment. You were propped up on a stool in the corner, the stack of skating magazines Reki had given you to flick through in case you got bored now sat in a neat pile off to the side. You had read each one of them front to back twice already tonight.
It wasn’t that you didn’t love spending time with Reki. You enjoyed listening to his midnight ramblings of whatever came to mind. His ideas for new boards, designs for stickers, and other creative ways to beat his future S opponents were usually his topics of interest. No one really noticed how much of an imaginative person your boyfriend was. He could be impulsive and over excited at times, but his fantastic mind and his willingness to create made your heart soar. Not only that, but he was fairly handy when it came to fixing up and assembling his own boards like he was some mad scientist waiting for one of his many experiments to go right. You indulged him as much as you could, you really did enjoy his company. Even if you would much rather be curled up beside him snuggling in bed rather than hear Reki precariously make his way through the lyrics of Check Yes Juliet for what seemed like the seventh time.
“Reki,” you spoke up finally as the analog clock on the wall indicated the current time of two forty-three am. Reki looked up from Langa’s custom longboard, hair bouncing about despite already being contained by the headband he wore everyday. “Yeah?” he asked, throwing a glance over his shoulder only to see your weary eyelids and tired expression. His entire demeanour melted, lips jutted out in a tiny pout upon seeing his poor baby so tired.
He backed away from his worktable, dancing and tiptoeing across the floor to avoid stepping on any spare parts or tools he had left lying about his mishmash of a workshop.
“Is baby tired?” he cooed, sawdusted fingers beginning to tug and pinch at the corners of your cheeks. You groaned in annoyance, your sleep deprived state causing you to be a tad more irritable at this hour. “Reki,” you repeated in a more serious tone, ember coloured irises meeting your e/c ones. His calloused hands moved to cup your face, warmth enveloping you in a way that felt like home. The scent of pine and the remnants of orange crush soda invaded your senses. He smiled at you with that goofy face of his, the one that Langa constantly teased for being weird. Maybe it was your sleepy nature, but he looked even more gorgeous in the harsh LED lighting of his garage. Tiny strands of his auburn hair fell in front of his face as he tilted his head to the side, his smile growing as he watched your eyes begin to droop.
“Please. Let’s go to bed,” you asked of him as kindly yet firmly as you could. Reki clicked his tongue a bit, thinking for a moment before delivering a cute peck to your nose. “A few more minutes! Then we can head inside, grab a cookie or two and crawl into bed together! It’ll be just a jiffy okay? Here, you can even set an alarm,” Reki was already reaching for his phone in his hoodie pocket so that you could do just as he suggested. He stopped in his tracks as he felt your hands clasp around his hoodie, pulling him close so that you could hug his torso. He laughed at how clingy you could be while being so sleepy, his hand patting atop your head as a form of affection.
“Wow, you really are.. sleeping,” Reki’s voice trailed off as he looked down to be greeted by you completely passed out against him. Your arms held your boyfriend close, your face buried within the fabric of his yellow skater boy hoodie. Soft snores escaped you, your breathing slowed and calm as you finally let your consciousness slip out of your ever fleeting grasp. Reki’s face began to bloom with colour the longer he stared at you, panic setting in as he realized what was truly happening.
You had fallen asleep against him. Oh shit. Oh god. You were asleep against him. That meant you were so comfortable that you just so happened to pass out in his arms. Reki bit back a giddy smile, warmth cascading through him in a form of nothing but love radiating solely for you at nearly three in the morning. His heart thumped rapidly against his rib cage. No matter how long he had been with you, he kept discovering new things about you that made him absolutely lose his mind. You falling asleep against him definitely being one of those many things. You looked so peaceful, so unbothered and safe within his embrace. This warmth you had given him overtook his will to keep working, his hands moving your hair out of the way of your face to kiss your forehead.
“Sorry for making you stay up, sweet baby,” he apologized in a quiet tone. His hands moved your arms to around his neck, using his strength to lift you up and wrap your legs securely around his waist. “I can’t say I’m not grateful for you being here for me, though. You could have left too, yet you stayed here for me,” Reki spoke to your sleeping form. The fact that you had stayed up with him this late made him even more grateful to have you. Reki grunted a bit as he adjusted to the newfound weight of you around him, your hair getting in his mouth and his eyes squinting to find the light switch so that he could flick it off before leaving. Reki was always careful with you, handling you as if you were a sort of glass figurine he barely even had the permission to touch.
“You look so damn cute like this, y’know,” he continued to speak as he maneuvered his way about his house, trying his best to subdue his footsteps and make as little noise as possible. He didn’t want to wake up his mom or little sisters. “Man, I’m so lucky. Seriously really lucky to have someone like you in my life.”
In your sleep, you subconsciously nuzzled your head against his chest. He melted a bit, holding back a tiny noise of happiness as he began to beam like an idiot holding his partner. You were the most amazing person, the person who made him happy every single day without fail, the person who picked him up no matter how much he bailed or got hurt. He loved you more than anything, and he wanted to treat you as well as you treated him. Even if it meant carrying you to bed after a late night of him talking your ear off about skateboarding for three consecutive hours.
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all works © denkamis 2021.
tags:
@meilbox
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you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy
Summary: Spencer's gay. He joins the BAU and befriends the team, but it is 2003. It's a secret he has to keep. He just didn't expect it to be this hard.
Tags: gay!spencer, coming out, hurt/comfort, insecure!spencer, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, dad hotch, protective!hotch, protective!derek, childhood trauma TW: one instance of explicit homophobia, but it is referenced a lot, as is Spencer's internalised homophobia at the start of this fic. A shit ton of heteronormativity but tbh that's just canon lol
Pairing: Spencer Reid/OMC, Spencer Reid & Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner, The BAU Team & Spencer Reid
Word Count: 6k
Masterlist // Read on AO3
Consider this my contribution to pride month 😌 I've waited so long to post it and I'm so glad I'm finally doing it because it's definitely one of my all time favourites <3 Gideon is here somewhere but just like with all my early season fics he's not really part of the plot I combined my moreid and gen taglists bc it was hard to know the audience for this, but just ignore it if you're not interested!
you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn’t do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore. — richard siken, a primer for the small weird loves
Spencer has only told one person in his whole life.
His mother guessed. For as long as he can remember, she’s used gender neutral pronouns when talking about his future partner, read him all the gay literature she could find, promised him that he’s perfect just the way he is.
The trouble is that Spencer only believes her until the first grade, when Ryan Sampson shoves him over in the playground and calls him gay. His mom had only ever used that term in a sweet, loving way, taking care to associate such words with positivity, as long as his dad wasn’t around to hear. When that word comes out of Ryan Sampson’s mouth, it is not said with sweetness and love; it is said with venom, and Spencer learns quickly that his mom is wrong. He is not perfect just the way he is.
And so, he keeps it a secret. When his mom notices him getting uncomfortable at the mention of future partners, she stops bringing it up, though she refuses to give up the diverse education she provides for him outside of school. His dad tells him that one day he’ll be a strapping young man and marry a nice girl in a church, and Spencer nods along. He ignores the way his stomach turns with anxiety at the thought. Ignores the screaming match his parents have that night. Ignores the fact that it started because Diana chipped in with ‘or boy’.
He’s in high school by the time he’s twelve, and the only part he’s grateful for is the absence of pressure to get a girlfriend. His dad’s out of the picture now, and Spencer tries not to let himself think that maybe if he wasn’t like this he might have stayed. Diana’s so out of it most days that she doesn’t remember what she noticed about him when he was a child, only recalling the last few years of shoving himself so far back in the closet he can hardly see the door anymore.
It feels like he’s lost his last ally.
(He hates that a small part of him feels relieved she doesn’t remember; that he almost feels assured by the fact that the last person to know who he really is has forgotten. There is only this version of Spencer Reid now. No other exists.)
He makes the mistake during his second undergraduate degree. He’s just turned eighteen but he is already a doctor and, fortunately, this alienates him from most of his peers, but someone manages to slide past his defences. Ethan Miller is twenty, in the second year of his (first) undergraduate degree in Chemical Engineering, and he’s nice. Spencer doesn’t have a lot of experience with friendship, but they get on well and Ethan makes him laugh. For the first time, he feels comfortable in the presence of anyone other than his mother.
They slip into an easy friendship: waiting for each other after class — Spencer back in the undergraduate buildings now he has his first PhD under his belt — and going out for ice cream and pizza and Thai food. Ethan goes to parties while Spencer studies, and then they reconvene to watch Doctor Who and play cards.
For almost a year, Spencer keeps his secret carefully locked up, hidden behind the mask he’s perfected after so many years. Even though he’s eighteen, nearly nineteen now, he doesn’t try and explore that side of himself. No, that’s far too risky. He doesn’t try and pretend any other way either, he just stays silent and lets people’s assumptions lie for him, but he can’t help the longing that claws up his throat when he locks eyes with a passing guy on campus. One time, he’d seen two men kiss on a bench in the city, and he’d run back to his dorm and had a panic attack. Why couldn’t he have that?
The feelings don’t stop, and he doesn’t know how to make them. He hates that he isn’t normal, but still longs for the touch of a man, the feeling of being wrapped up in strong arms, of being kissed by dry, chapped lips, and falling asleep to a heartbeat approximately 11% slower than that of a woman’s.
It’s a constant battle inside him, emotions raging, and he struggles to control it, suppress it, tame it.
He pays a sorry price.
Ethan makes him feel comfortable, and that turns out to be a detriment. He relaxes around the other boy: he tells him about growing up as a pre-teen in a high school, about how a child feels living 260 miles away from home, even about his mother’s illness.
And one day, it slips out. They’re on the beach, lying on towels as they look up at the blue sky, talking about what their futures will look like: Ethan will be a successful chemical engineer in Berlin, and Spencer will work for the FBI, profiling serial killers.
“You’ll have to marry a German girl,” he tells Ethan. “It’ll be tough to convince an American girl to move all the way to Germany as soon as you graduate.”
“Yeah, and what about you? You’ll be off fighting crime around the country, not much of a life for a family.”
“Oh, I imagine my husband will be the type to—”
“Husband?”
Spencer freezes. It shocks him as much as it shocks Ethan. He doesn’t even pay much attention to Ethan’s disgusted face and his outraged tirade. He hears slurs and insults, hears him say that he can’t believe Spencer tricked him like this, that he was probably waiting to make a move on him, that he was never to look in Ethan’s direction again, but Spencer is frozen in time.
He’s never allowed him to think much about what his personal life might look like in the future, but he’d said ‘husband’ on instinct, without thinking, and it’s clearly something he actually wants. Ethan’s words sting, but the moment brings about a realisation Spencer is thankful for; it instigates a journey of self-discovery and self-expression, of the joy of living as your true self.
He loses his first and only friend, but he gains something much more valuable. He visits gay bars — nervously sipping a non-alcoholic drink in the corner at first, before soon becoming confident enough to respond to the men who sidle up to him and ask for his name. He lets go and dances the night away, sometimes going home with one of the many dance partners he acquires during the night, sometimes heading back to his own dorm happily alone.
Makeup and dresses and skirts and heels make their way into his wardrobe, and he befriends girls and drag queens and other gay men who encourage him to be exactly the way he is. And the best part is, he never has to come out to any of them. All of them know, and that’s good enough for everyone.
The fun comes to a sad sort of slow, however, when he joins the BAU. Everyone knows law enforcement’s relationship with the LGBT community is less than adequate — Spencer’s seen it with his own eyes: butch lesbians and men in dresses getting roughed up by angry police officers for ‘lewd behaviour’ or ‘drunkenness’ when they’re just being themselves. It’s not safe for him to tell anyone, so he doesn’t.
He still goes out with his friends when he’s in town and wears makeup and dresses and crop tops when he’s at home, but presents as rigidly straight Dr Spencer Reid to his team at the BAU.
The hardest part about it is that he loves his team. He’s known Gideon for years — and he wouldn’t be surprised if he suspects something after coming over to his house unannounced one night, only to have a man other than Spencer open the door — but he settles into a comforting dynamic with Hotch. He can’t help but see him as something of a father figure, and he knows Hotch has a soft spot for him, always looking out for him and taking him under his wing without a moment’s hesitation.
Elle, JJ, and Penelope all take a shine to him, too, teasing him without a hint of malice in their tones, only the kind of playful kindness that reminds him of his mother. He forms a special bond with Penelope and they spend hours watching Doctor Who together and geeking out on all the areas their interests overlap, and the comfort he feels with her matches the comfort he’s found with his new group of queer friends.
(She doesn’t hold a candle to Ethan, he decides one night, after he’d cried at a movie she’d made him watch and she felt so bad she made him hot chocolate and jam toast and cuddled him until he felt better.)
Derek becomes a brother to him. He puts him in a headlock at least once a day — which Spencer has been reliably informed by multiple sources is a very brotherly thing to do �� and teases him relentlessly, while simultaneously being fiercely protective of him. Enough so, that Spencer sometimes wonders if he even has Hotch beat in that department.
He loves his team and his team loves him. It should be simple. It is still 2003.
He comes in one morning late for a briefing, his shirt buttoned wrong and his hair is a mess, and he’s fairly sure that his attempt to cover the hickey at the base of his neck with concealer has been ultimately unsuccessful. It’s obvious why he’s late. Gideon is too engrossed in the case file to notice, but Hotch raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face as everyone else immediately takes to teasing him.
“Who’s the lucky lady, pretty boy?”
Elle raises an eyebrow to match Derek’s shit-eating grin, “Someone definitely got some strange last night.”
“When do we get to meet her, Spence?” JJ asks, smirking as he takes a seat.
He’s bright red — as if he needed to look any more debauched — and Spencer tries to ignore the hurt that seizes his chest at the reminder of his need to stay quiet. This team respects him, and he can’t throw that away just because Spencer gets too comfortable.
God, he wishes Penelope was here.
“None of your business,” he mutters, trying to keep his tone light. He fails.
Naturally, Hotch notices and swiftly moves the briefing on, and Spencer keeps his gaze locked on the case file, not missing the absence of a reprimand from his superior. He’s constantly thankful for the older man, but in this moment, he wishes he could hug him.
(A voice that sounds dangerously close to Ethan’s rises up and taunts him in his ear: he wouldn’t want a dirty homo like you anywhere near him—)
Derek doesn’t let up on the case, continuing to bug him about the special lady in his life. He does concede that it could’ve been a one night stand, which is one front he’s right on, but a couple more concessions are necessary before Derek comes close to the truth of last night.
Eventually, Derek stops, and Spencer notes that the cessation of comments comes suspiciously close to the last time Derek and Hotch were alone together. He doesn’t have it in him to feel angry at Hotch for stepping in when he had it handled; doesn’t have the energy to act as though his pride is wounded, because really, neither of those things are true, and he doesn’t need to add another item to ‘Spencer Reid’s List of Things He Pretends to Be.’
The situation is forgotten, and time moves on.
Things change when he finds his first proper boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the giddying rush of emotions it turns out to be, and Spencer spends his days smiling as he daydreams his time away.
His name is Oscar Wilkins, a History professor at Georgetown University, and Spencer falls quickly in love with him. Ever since their mutual friend had introduced them at a gay bar one evening, they’d spent all their free time together. He’s kind and gentle and understanding of Spencer’s hectic and unpredictable job, and he finally has the chance to experience everything he quietly and shamefully longed for as a teenager.
The only downside is the silent breaking of Spencer’s heart that the most important people in his life can’t meet his boyfriend. He longs to show Oscar off, to hold hands in front of his team, lean up to press a tender kiss to Oscar’s lips. He wants to put a framed picture of the two of them at the Washington Monument on his desk to remind him of why he needs to get through the hard days; he doesn’t want to have to sneak out of the hotel room he shares with Derek to whisper hushed, loving goodnights over the phone.
But he’s too scared. Too cowardly.
It’s different being who he is with his gay group of friends littered with wlws and drag queens and other gay and bisexual guys. They understand.
But Derek and Hotch are two extremely masculine, alpha men: Derek’s a ladies’ man and Hotch is married to a woman he met in college with a baby on the way and both have a strong and dominant energy that still sometimes manages to intimidate Spencer even after all these years. And Elle and JJ are lovely — some of his closest friends, really — but sometimes they remind him a little too much of the mean girls he went to high school with.
The hardest person to keep his secret from, though, is Penelope. She’s his best friend and he desperately wants to give her all of him, but he’s so scared. He’s lost a best friend to this secret before, and even though he’s certain she’d be fine with it, what if she accidentally let it slip to Derek? What if Hotch found out and didn’t see him in the same light anymore? What if the girls started teasing him? What if Gideon didn’t want to mentor him anymore?
The fear paralyses him. And it’s a cycle he doesn’t know how to break.
Fear, though, doesn't stop everyone from noticing his daydreaming, his dopey smile when he checks his messages, his urgency to get home where he would’ve stayed until the small hours of the morning before. As excellent as he is at hiding his sexuality, he’s fucking terrible at hiding the fact that he’s in love: it was easy enough to pretend he was straight, but hiding something this all-consuming is an impossible ask.
Derek comes over to perch on the edge of his desk one afternoon, sighing as he sits down. “Pretty boy, this is getting ridiculous,” he says, snatching Spencer’s attention away from his phone. “You’ve been grinning like an idiot for the last twenty minutes as you’ve texted Future Mrs Reid. When are we going to meet her?”
(He hates the new nickname the team has given his mystery significant other, although Oscar had found it hilarious. “It’s funny because when we get married, we’ll hardly be able to tell,” he’d argued through his laughter. “Neither of us will change our name because of our academic profiles, and we’ll both still be ‘Dr’. Our wedding rings will be the only indicator.”
Spencer hadn’t argued back, because he’d been too tongue-tied and flushed pink at Oscar’s use of ‘when’ in regards to their hypothetical nuptials. It was only made bearable by Oscar kissing him gently and tucking him under his arm, not embarrassing him any further as Spencer had sort of anticipated, warmth settling over his chest at the thought of their future together.)
“You won’t,” he replies, perhaps a little too curtly.
Derek starts at that, clearly not expecting it. He definitely should’ve tried to play it off as a joke. “What— should I be offended, pretty boy?”
You wouldn’t call me that if you knew who I really am.
“That’s up to you, Derek,” he says calmly, although he still can’t meet his eyes, “but you won’t meet the ‘Future Mrs Reid, so I think it would probably be best if you left it alone.”
“Damn,” Derek mutters under his breath, clearly pissed off and probably more hurt than Spencer ever intended. “Suit yourself.”
And with that, he gets up and leaves his desk. Spencer’s only solace is the text message he sees on his phone when he picks it back up: I love you so much. You know that, right?
The light-hearted ridicule comes to an abrupt halt after the incident with Derek, and it’s clear that he had been the biggest contributor to the teasing. He’s thankful that the jokes have stopped, but he wishes desperately that it didn’t come with the growing distance between him and his team. Loneliness takes the place of his previous irritated anxiety, and he isn’t sure what’s worse.
It all comes to a head at the end of a case in Michigan. They’re stuck in the lounge of the small inn they’d stayed in the last few days, a snowstorm having blocked them in and grounded the jet, although Gideon had long since retreated to his room. The fire’s going and they’re the only guests around, so it’s cosy enough, but Spencer can’t help but feel sick at the idea of another night away from home.
It’s only been two weeks since he’d snapped at Derek, but the chasm between him and the team is only widening with each passing day. He knows it’s not a case of ‘pick a side’, but the team’s morale relies on light-hearted banter and teasing, and him not being a part of that anymore has only brewed awkwardness. Everyone’s trying to give him space when space is the last thing he wants.
Oscar’s keeping him company over the phone at least, but it’s not quite enough to quell the loneliness swimming around his stomach, and the 'discrete' sideways looks he gets from the team only make him feel worse.
“At least it’s nice and toasty in here,” JJ sighs as she takes a sip of the hot chocolate the kindly inn owner had made for them all.
Elle hums in agreement. “There are worse places to be grounded.”
“I dunno, man, I just wanna get home,” Derek says, not taking his eyes off the fire. Spencer can’t help but agree.
“Oh, come on,” Hotch muses, considerably more jovial now the case is over, “we’re here, and that’s not going to change any time soon. We should make the most of it.”
“It’s at least nice to be somewhere sort-of Christmassy now it’s December,” Elle points out. “We could be stuck in a dingy police station like we probably will be next week.”
“Ooh, I noticed that Jemimah and Kiran started planning the Christmas party last week,” JJ says, smiling at them. “I offered my help, but they seem to have it covered.”
Hotch raises an eyebrow“That’s probably a good thing. You don’t need more work on your plate.”
“Not gonna argue with that,” she murmurs, smiling as she brings her mug to her lips again.
Spencer doesn’t miss that Derek is still stewing on the opposite side of the room.
“Are you looking forward to the Christmas party, Spencer? Will you come?” Hotch asks, clearly trying to rope him into the conversation, which he appreciates. He’s been making a lot of effort with him the past few weeks, and it’s just about the only thing that’s getting him through each day.
Before he can reply, though, Derek erupts from the other side of the room; an already pissed-off man being pushed over the edge. “He won’t even let us meet his fucking girlfriend, Hotch, he’s not gonna want to come to the Christmas party!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air as he glares at Spencer with a stormy expression raging across his face.
Suddenly, Spencer can’t stay silent anymore, and his retort shocks himself just as much as it does everyone else. “I don’t have a girlfriend!”
It might be the loudest he’s ever shouted in his whole life. He’s always been quiet and restrained, the type to state his feelings as calmly as possible no matter how he’s feeling on the inside. Even in the biggest fight he’s had with Oscar, his voice was barely loud enough to qualify as a shout.
There’s a brief stunned silence, but Derek quickly slices his way through it, voice raising to meet Spencer’s fiery emotion, fierce and loud. “Oh, don’t even go there, Reid, you’re really gonna try and argue that? You’re gonna lie about her as well as not let us meet her? What a boyfriend you are.”
“I don’t! I don’t have a girlfriend!” he repeats, voice catching this time as tears rise unbidden to the backs of his eyes and all the emotions of the journey he’s taken with his sexuality over the years flood him in a wave of intensity he’s not prepared for.
“You’re fucking lying—!”
“I have a boyfriend!” he yells. “Alright? I have a boyfriend. I’m gay.”
The anger and emotion quickly dissipates, and he’s left standing alone in front of the team he’s put so much effort into hiding this from, watching shock spell out across everyone’s expressions. He’s never felt smaller than he does in that moment, and he quickly grabs his phone before running upstairs to his room, locking the door behind him.
“Oh God, Oscar, I fucked up so bad,” he cries over the phone as soon as his boyfriend picks up.
“Hey, hey, breathe, baby,” Oscar says gently, but Spencer can hear the anxious concern in his voice, “it’s gonna be okay, I promise. I’m here. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“I just— Oh God, I just told the team.” A new wave of horror rolls over him as he realises what he’s done. Times might be changing, but it’s still only 2006, and he doesn’t know each and every nuance of his team members’ political positions and, fuck, he hates that his existence is a fucking political position.
Oscar’s been so understanding of his reluctance to not tell the team, even though Spencer’s met pretty much everyone in his life. He isn’t sure what he’s done to earn such a gracious and understanding boyfriend, but he’s not about to question it.
“Baby, I know it’s scary, and I know you’re really worked up right now,” he counsels, voice soft and reassuring, using the nickname he knows Spencer loves the most to make him feel as safe as he can from 700 miles away, “but it’s probably not as bad as you think. From what you’ve told me about the team, they love you so much, and even in the case that in the past they've had some issue with gay people, I can't imagine they’d ever actually think of you any differently when it comes down to it, Spencer.”
He’s crying too hard to reply, and Oscar understands immediately, gently transitioning into a story about his day that slowly starts to calm him down, and by the time he’s wrapping it up, his tears are starting to subside.
“Thank you, Ozzy,” he whispers into the phone, lifting himself up off the floor and making his way to sit on the bed instead.
“You know I’d do anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs warmly. “Do you want me to stay on the phone for a bit?”
“Yes please,” he whispers again, holding it as close to himself as possible, drawing all the comfort he can from his boyfriend’s voice.
He lies there listening to Oscar’s voice and trying not to think about the disaster downstairs for a good ten minutes before there’s a tap at the door.
“Oz, there’s someone here,” he says, voice panicked.
“I think you should probably speak to them, baby,” he urges. “I’ll stay on the phone with you while you do, if you like?”
“Please.” He gets up from the bed gingerly, keeping his phone tightly gripped in his right hand as he slowly unlocks the door with his left, revealing Hotch on the other side.
“Hey, Spencer. Do you mind if I come in?”
He’s riddled with nerves, but Hotch is smiling warmly, and he’s never said a harsh word to Spencer, so he steps aside and lets him into his room.
Hotch quickly notices the phone in his hand, visibly still on a call. “Is that your boyfriend?”
Spencer nods.
“Do you mind if I talk to him?”
His brows knit in confusion and his lips part slightly in surprise, but it’s all he can do to hand the phone over, watching Hotch carefully.
“Hi, Spencer tells me this is his boyfriend?” Hotch inquires politely into the phone, his tone still warm. “I’m Hotch, Spencer’s boss.”
He can vaguely hear Oscar speaking on the other end of the line, and he worries slightly that Oscar will somehow give away the familial feelings he holds for Hotch, but the conversation doesn’t last long enough for the anxiety to really take over.
“Everything’s fine here, I just want to have a conversation with Spencer, so is it alright if we hang up and I talk to him alone for a minute? He can call you straight back afterwards.” After a brief pause in which Oscar says something, Hotch looks back up at him. “Are you okay with that, Spencer?”
He nods hesitantly, and Hotch says a quick goodbye to Oscar before surging forwards and wrapping Spencer in a hug. It catches him off guard, but he doesn’t waste any time in burying his face into Hotch’s neck and soaking in the comfort and warmth that always radiates from his father figure.
“Come on,” Hotch says softly as they pull away a good minute or so later, “let’s sit down, shall we?”
“You’re not mad?” Spencer can’t help but ask, the question burning his tongue as anxiety — however quietened from Hotch’s hug — still swims around in his stomach.
“There are many things that could make me mad, Spencer,” he says earnestly, “but this is not one of them. I would never be angry at you for being who you are, okay? I might… I might be overstepping here, and if I am, then tell me and I’ll back off, but I’ve always seen you as a mentee, and over the years that’s developed— well, I see you more as a son these days. And part of that is wanting to protect and support you no matter what you do or say or who you are.”
Spencer wastes no time in diving back in for a hug, clinging onto Hotch for dear life as he hugs back, rubbing his back gently.
“I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us sooner, Spencer,” he says in a voice soft with affection and regret. “But I’m so glad you’ve told us now.”
He only presses closer at that, tears springing back to his eyes. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He knows what he’s implying, and even in a roundabout way, he’s glad he’s telling Hotch.
“Oh, Spence,” he sighs sadly, “you couldn’t do a single thing to lose me. I’m in it for the long haul.”
“Really?” he asks, hating how insecure he sounds.
“Really,” Hotch promises, pulling away as Spencer does. “Now, you have a whole team of agents downstairs who are feeling very sorry for themselves and really want to see you.”
Nausea rolls in his stomach and panic springs back up as he looks at Hotch, desperate for some sort of grounding. “Are they angry at me? Do they hate me now?”
“No one hates you, Spencer,” he says firmly. “I promise you that. Everyone just wishes that they’d made you feel more welcome and comfortable. We all hate that you felt you had to lock up something so integral to who you are, and we can’t help but feel we played a part in it.”
“No,” he protests — the last thing he wants is family blaming themselves when it has nothing to do with them, “it’s not your fault, it’s just…”
Hotch nods. “I understand, it’s okay. Now, do you want to go down and see them? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it might help ease your mind to see that they really don’t hate you.”
Spencer pauses, taking a moment to think. “Can I see Derek first?”
“Of course,” Hotch says understandingly, and the comforting smile that crosses his face makes Spencer feel safe and taken care of. “I’ll send him up?”
Spencer nods and Hotch hugs him once more before leaving the room almost reluctantly. He wastes no time in picking up his phone and sending a text to Oscar. You were right. Hotch is fine. He’s just sending Derek up before I go and see the team but he says that no one’s angry and I think I believe him. Thank you, Oscar. I love you.
Not even half a minute goes past before his phone lights up with a text back. I’m so glad, baby. Call me later, okay? I want to make sure you’re okay before I go to bed. I love you more.
Before Spencer can argue that actually, he is the one more in love with the other, a hesitant knock sounds on his door. Nerves suddenly flip his stomach, and he clenches and unclenches his fists a couple of times before forcing himself to cross the room, revealing a very worried and regretful-looking Derek.
“Oh, pretty boy,” he says sadly, before crushing Spencer in a warm and tender hug. Immediately, he relaxes into the arms of one of his best friends, and relief courses through his blood at Derek’s reaction. “I am so sorry that I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that you were gay or had a boyfriend. That’s completely on me. I don’t care who you love, Spencer, I just want you to be happy, okay? And if this guy makes you happy, then that’s fine by me. But if he ever lays a hand on you or—”
“Derek, Derek,” he laughs, “it’s fine I get it. Thank you, though, I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier and for snapping at you in the bullpen that time…”
“I understand, Spence,” he promises. “It’s in the past, okay? And I’m sorry for pushing so hard. I mean, I’d love to meet him but if you don’t feel comfortable or you don’t want to, that’s fine, too. It’s your life, man.”
“No, I… I think I want you guys to meet him. It’s been so hard to keep him away from the people I consider my family, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. Maybe after Christmas, we can all have dinner or something.”
Spencer smiles shyly. “Well, Oscar’s a great cook, so I reckon we could work something out.”
Derek grins, throwing an arm around his shoulders as he immediately jumps back into teasing him as they make their way to the door to go downstairs and see the rest of the team. “Ooh, lover boy’s got him a chef, hey? What else does this Oscar have going for him?”
Spencer chatters eagerly about his boyfriend to Derek, barely skipping a beat when he joins everyone downstairs, his friends taking his cues and joining in with the conversation seamlessly. He’s had enough fuss for one night, and the warmth and understanding on everyone’s faces tells him everything he needs to know.
“Do you have any pictures of him?” JJ asks, raising an eyebrow with eager expectancy as they all settle back into their seats by the fire, a warm and unbelievably happy feeling settling in Spencer’s stomach.
He blushes, digging out his phone from his pocket and unlocking it. “More than a few, I think.”
He finds the most recent picture of his boyfriend — a candid shot of him cooking in the kitchen, spatula aloft, and a huge grin on his face — and hands the phone around.
“Oh wow, you like them buff, huh, pretty boy?” Derek teases as soon as he gets his hands on it, and Spencer’s stomach twists in a sudden bout of fear, expecting to see some hesitancy or even disgust on his friend’s face. What if he thinks that Spencer has a crush on him? What if he’s uncomfortable around him now?
But if Derek’s having any of those thoughts, they don’t show on his face. He’s smiling widely and openly, all the pent-up anxiety and frustration borne from hurt gone from his body language, and he looks completely comfortable sat next to Spencer, his arm stretched out behind him on the back of the sofa.
They sit happily around the fire for a couple of hours, settling into a happy, intimate familiarity Spencer hadn’t realised was missing when he was hiding something so integral to his being from his family, and he’s still smiling when they finally part ways to head to bed, the clock ticking closer and closer to 1 am.
He gets ready for bed quickly, brushing his teeth and throwing on the top he’d stolen from Oscar the first time he’d stayed at his place; a welcome change from his worn and wrinkled suit. As soon as his teeth are brushed and the lights are all off except for his bedside lamp, he pulls out his phone, knowing there’s one more thing he has to do before he goes to sleep.
“Spencer?” Penelope’s voice sounds down the line, clearly concerned. “It’s almost 2 am here, are you okay?”
“I’m gay,” he says, getting straight to the point. The main reason he ever kept it from her was because of his fear of it accidentally getting out to the team rather than fear over her reaction. After all, multiple of his drag queen friends are also hers.
“Oh my God,” she says in that small voice she uses when she’s not actually talking to you, before finally actually replying to me. “Spencer, I’m so happy you told me!”
He doesn’t miss her choice of words, or the way she says them and he tilts his head suspiciously. “You already knew, didn’t you?”
She sighs. “Yeah. I’m sorry, a couple of months ago I saw a text from Oscar on your phone when you went to the bathroom during one of our Doctor Who marathons, and it wasn’t hard to figure out the relationship.”
“And… wait, you’re not mad at me for not telling you sooner?”
“Spencer! Of course not. I was waiting for you to be comfortable enough to share it with me. I felt awful that I knew without your consent but I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to catch you off guard or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s fine that you waited, baby genius, I’m just so happy you told me now. What finally gave you the courage?”
“Well, it might have slipped out in front of the team this evening,” he admits sheepishly, “and the only reason I never told you was because I was scared that it would slip out somehow — accidentally, of course, I didn’t think you’d tell anyone on purpose — and now everyone knows. It’s been killing me not to tell you, Penelope, it really has because I love you so much and you’re my best friend and I trust you with my life, it’s just…”
“Whoa, slow down, Spence,” she laughs fondly, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me, I understand. But I’m glad you finally told everyone and you can be yourself completely with us, now. We all love you no matter what, you know that right?”
“I do now.”
“Good. You should get some sleep, baby boy, it’s late and you’ve had an emotional evening.”
Spencer smiles. “Yeah, I know. You should, too, Pen. I’ll see you when we can finally make it home, okay? Love you.”
“Love you, too, 187,” she says softly, and Spencer can hear the smile in her voice. “Goodnight.”
As soon as he hangs up, he settles down into the bed, turning off the light and pulling the duvet up over his shoulders before dialling one more number.
“Hey, baby,” Oscar says, voice as gentle and caring as it always is, although thicker with tiredness now. “I take it everything went okay?”
“Yeah,” Spencer murmurs, already feeling tired as the safety he always feels at the sound of Oscar’s voice settles into the fibres of his being. “It went so well. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”
“I can’t wait either, sweetheart. Are you in bed now?”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “Can you talk to me as I fall asleep?”
“Anything for you, Spence,” he says softly, before transitioning seamlessly into a story about the professors on campus, and his gentle comfort and the knowledge of the unconditional love his family has for him finally lulls Spencer into the best sleep he’s had in weeks.
taglist : @criminalmindsvibez @moreidstrobed @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @sbeno22 @temily @enbyspencer @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids (add yourself to my taglist via this form!!)
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angsty-omi · 3 years
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was she just a friend?
hajime iwaizumi x Reader
tw: very slight domestic abuse, insecurity, no happy ending, swearing, suggestive themes, and no editing prior.
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when you first started dating hajime, you had accepted the fact that he had a really close girl friend. how could you not? before you guys made it official he made sure his concerns were met with. this should’ve been the first red flag, however, you were blinded by love.
at first, it was subtle. she’d tag along with you guys on your walk home, which you didn’t mind at all. most of the trips, she’d make fun of iwaizumi and reminisce when they were kids. which, in turn, made you laugh. a lot. and usually after she got home, you and iwaizumi could spend the sunset together. his large calloused hand would wrap around yours, and he’d bring your hand up to peck it. your heart grew bigger by the minute.
then, one day after she left, both of his hands gripped your jaw, and soft lips were pressed against yours. you smiled into the kiss and added more pressure. as he pulled away, you instinctively moved forward for more. that made him chuckle, and grabbed your chin once more. however, this kiss was more passionate. you could never forget that night. it was purely blissful.
for the next six months, life felt like paradise. there was a consistency of “i love you-s,” cuddles, and even sex. but, as they say, happiness is only temporary. on your sixth month anniversary, you and hajime had planned a fancy dinner date on the bay. you showed up early, with excitement written on your face. you were currently wearing a satin maroon dress with a black trench coat on top. as you sat at your table, you pulled out a box out of your pocket. it was a promise ring. you rubbed the circumference of it, trying to ease your nerves. was this moving too fast? you were certain that you couldn’t love another the way you love hajime.
as the hour strikes, he still hadn’t showed up. you repeatedly checked your watch, and even asked other people’s in case your time was wrong. you texted hajime multiple times with no response. anxiety started bubbling in your stomach. what if hajime’s hurt? what if he got into a car accident? what if a UFO came down and kidnapped him? you prayed to yourself that none of those things were true.
before you even realized it, another hour went by. and at this point the waiters were passively suggesting you to leave, due to their full house. at first, you were weary, what if hajime shows up? you thought. although, you complied with the waiters and left. you called him so many times with no pick up. before jumping to conclusions, you decided to text her.
y/n: hey, have you talked to hajime recently?
her: nope! but i can text him if you’d like!
y/n: sure
you rolled your eyes at her message, she acted like he’d answer her and not you. you were his girlfriend for god sakes. obviously if he could text someone it’d be you... atleast that’s what you thought before you got a notification.
her: oh he just said he’s at home, was there something you needed?
that text broke your heart. he’s at home? worst of all he texted her back and not you? you just left her on read and headed home.
as you slammed your phone on the bed, you got ready to sleep. slipping into one of hajime’s shirts and a pair of underwear you tuck yourself in. while drifting, you inhaled his shirt and it smelled like him. his cologne had a wood musk scent to it which you adored. and before you realized it, you were crying. crying yourself to sleep.
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the next morning during school, you did everything in your power to ignore hajime. you skipped the lockers, lunch, and even prevented going to bathroom in case he was there. who could blame you? you were still upset after being stood up.
“miss y/n, could you grab these papers and send it to the office please?” your teacher asked.
you picked up the hefty amount of sheets and went on your merry way. with your guard down roaming the hallways, you failed to notice her and hajime at the end of it. as you both looked up from a long distance with eye contact, you simply turned around and took a detour. you could hear sneakers quickly catching up to you. it was hajime.
“hey baby i haven’t seen you all day,” he wrapped his arm around you.
you ignored him and continued looking straight ahead.
“hey are you okay?”
silence.
“y/n if you’re going to act like this and not tell me what’s going on, i’m going to go.” hajime said with a stern voice. you bit your lip, trying to hold tears back. you nudged yourself off of him and replied “fine.”
how could he be mad at you? and why’s he acting like nothing happened?
at the end of the school day, hajime was waiting at the gates for you. you caught sight of him and sighed. you couldn’t hold it off any longer. as you approached him, you saw her peeking out next to him. of course. with annoyance, you started walking home, with them behind you. the walk home was silent, excluding the loud footsteps trailing behind you. as soon as she turned for her house and a couple more steps, hajime grabbed your wrists and gently pinned you on the wall.
“tell me what’s wrong.”
immediately, tears start falling down your face.
“how could you forget about our sixth months?”
at this point, iwaizumi’s face turned pale. paler than a sheet of printer paper. he quickly kissed your tears, and rambled apologies.
“i can explain, that day hachi had some major family issues. her dad had just left the house to get drunk, and her mom was out of town. she needed me to come over, so i rushed.”
“so then, why didn’t you text me back?”
“what?”
“you heard me”
“i gave my phone to hachi because her dad broke hers.”
you gave a confused look. her phone wasn’t broken, she literally texted you and to think about it you never said her name aloud or in your thoughts.
“what? i literally texted her the night of and she said you texted her back saying you were home”
“hachi wouldn’t do that.”
did he just assume that you would lie? what reason would you even have to lie? you pulled up your phone and showed him the messages.
“this was probably a misunderstanding, are you sure your connection was good? some of them probably didn’t send so it looks bad” he casually said.
you were just in so much shock when he said that. how could he? why did he? your head started to feel stressed so you just walked away. not wanting to hear his idiotic excuses anymore. he trailed behind you and wrapped his arms around you.
“please don’t leave us on bad terms, i’m sorry i won’t do it again” you felt tears on the back of your school uniform.
“i guess it wouldn’t hurt to forget this one instance” you thought to yourself. so what did you do? you forgave him.
poor little naive girl.
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after you guys made up, he decided to have a make up anniversary. you guys cuddled up on your bed and watched many sappy romance movies while ordering your favorite place. this was way better than an expensive dinner. you were just glad he was in your arms again and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
you got up from the bed with his arms dragging behind to go into your dresser, where you hid the box. as you were about to turn around and suprise him, his phone rang. who could be calling at this hour? you know who. hachi.
“don’t pick it up” you frowned.
“please babe just give me one second?” he pouted.
you nod in a agony. as he answered it, you could hear dramatic tears on the other end with a concerned hajime on the line.
“are you okay?! he did what?! i’m coming right now”
as he ended the call, he buckled his pants back on.
“you’re kidding right?”
you hid the tiny box behind your back.
“what are you talking about y/n?” he frustrated, clearly stressed out.
“this is our anniversary and you’re going over to see another girl?”
“y/n, she’s my best friend and you know that. plus she’s home alone and her dad just broke a window.”
“then can i come with you?”
he shook his head, “i don’t think she wants anyone to see her in that state right now”
“except for you, hm makes sense okay”
“can you please not be insecure for like one day?” his fingers ran through his hair.
your eyes widened, “are you fucking serious? you’re the one that made me insecure! first i dropped the whole dinner phone text thing even though there was obvious evidence hachi was trying to sabotage us, why can’t you see it?!”
“y/n, at the beginning of our relationship you acknowledged that i had a close girl friend. and with that, the dinner thing was just a misunderstanding. stop bringing that up or else.” he aggressed.
“are you seriously threatening me right now?”
“if you leave right now.. t-then we’re over!” the words just slipped out of your mouth. both of you guys were in shock. you were just so relentlessly depleted from this argument that you decided this was your solution.
he furiously opened the door, “hajime wai-” you were cut off by the door slamming shut. tears were flowing like a waterfall at this point. you gave yourself some time to breathe and reevaluate. you couldn’t lose hajime, he was your person. your light. your yellow. you put on your sneakers and ran to hachi’s house, knowing he’d be there. you grabbed the promise ring alongside so you could beg for forgiveness.
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your breath was ragged, damn were you out of shape. but at the end, you got to your destination. as you analyzed the house, there seem to be no windows broken, but the front door was opened slightly. you knew she was lying from the start about her dad smashing things. you slowly walked in as quiet as possible and could hear sobs in the other room. as you pressed your ear to the door, it was hajime’s sobs. your heart felt so much guilt, sayings like “i love her so much” and “how could she just say that?” were the only phrases you could comprehend. then there was silence. as you opened the door, prepared to make up, you couldn’t believe your eyes. hachi and hajime’s face were about a half an inch away from each other. they both looked up at you.
“nice intact windows, take this stupid fucking ring, you’re dead to me iwaizumi” you chucked the box at him. as he looked at the box, it had been embroidered ‘promise’ on it and he knew what that meant. you quickly made your exit through the door with hajime closely behind you.
you stopped in your tracks, “please just leave me alone” your voice now dainty.
“y/n, plea-”
“please what? please forget about what i saw? i knew it i fucking knew it. you know what, this whole time you made me like the bad guy when it was YOU. you made me like this, and the worst part is I STILL LOVE YOU.” you punched jabs into his chest. obviously it didn’t hurt him physically, but emotionally it felt like a million swords were stabbing him repeatedly.
“please stop this, is there anyway you can forgive me? please?” he sobbed.
“i’ll do anything”
“would you leave hachi for me?” you asked sharply.
his hesitation was all you needed. in his head he answered yes, but it was like his vocal chords stopped working. deep in his heart, he knew you deserved better. so he stayed quiet.
“go to hell, go fuck hachi or something see if i care.” but you did care. you just wished that he fought just a little bit for you. but he never did and you had to accept it like a champ.
before this all happened, you had dreamed about iwaizumi hajime and yours’s future. but now it’s all ruined.
you’re left heartbroken and lost $350 on a ring that had no meaning.
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watevermelon · 4 years
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Patience is a Virtue | Shinsuke Kita x Reader
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✧ Summary: You lost track of the days that you were in love with Kita. He was so much more than just the team mom that many outsiders dubbed him as. He was the wielder of cold-logic and held the bluntest of words at times, but he showed his own special brand of care for each member of the team. What you hadn’t expected was for him to especially care about you.  ➳ Warnings: Language because twins lmao ➳ Tags: Childhood friends to lovers; mostly fluff and humor; Atsumu being a little shit; friends trying to be match-makers; mild jealousy on Kita’s part; introspection and some character development
✧  Masterlist
---xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx---
As the manager of the Inarizaki volleyball club, you were no stranger to the antics of your generally loud team. And while this was usually elicited by the twins, with most of the team ahem especially Suna being no help (since many would rather film then break-up the fight), you were almost a pro at keeping them calm to the public eye.
You grew up alongside most of the members of the team, a strange connection between all of the players. From advanced classes in junior high to being literal neighbors to some of them, you were long-term classmates with many of the members - including the captain himself.
Kita was much more than the doting team mom than people gave him credit for. Yes, he was often the face of the team, the voice of reason that handled the interviews and other press coverage, but this all came from a place of stone-cold reason. He had strict routines and never cared about doing things without practical rationale. Kita had a mature way of thinking, often compartmentalizing both people and emotions, to the point that it made people his own age not relate to him.
Even the quiet Suna, the analytical little shit who loved to poke fun at said captain, had honestly admitted that he thought Kita to be on the robot-side of the emotional spectrum. 
And, despite all this, Kita was the long-term object of your affections.
It was all the little things that made your crush on him grow. From his proper speech, the blunt words no matter to whom he was speaking to, or his unusual brand of care he extended toward his teammates, Kita was the foundation of Inarizaki that you fell for. And when he was named captain of the volleyball team? You almost cried alongside him, reveling in the rare fit of pure happiness that he was gracing your eyes with.
You remembered the last time you walked home together, for once not being called away on separate duties as captain and leading manager. He treated you to ice-cream and walked along you side-by-side.
“Mint chocolate-chip with two cherries.” He told the street-cart vendor confidently, knowing your favorite flavors by heart at this point.
You ordered for him in kind, receiving the treat from the vendor as Kita paid for both of your orders. Anyone else would be contesting it, but you knew that Kita would not take no for an answer. He did stuff like this all the time with you, you were better off not fighting it. This was not the hill you wanted to die on.
But you were surprised when Kita licked at your ice cream, smiling as he tasted it and maintaining your gaze head-on. The shock on your face must have been evident since the smirk on his widened. You reached for the cone in his hand, only for him to lightly slap it away.
“Should I be asking with a pretty please or something?” You asked with a playful pout.
“No.” Kita replied, before lowering it to your eye-level.
Did he want you to lick it? While he was holding it????
Wordlessly, you followed his silent command and felt the minty taste of your afternoon snack on your tongue. Kita watched the action, eyes following your tongue as he shot you a friendly smile. He pulled away before you could get that much more, before licking your ice cream again.
Was that an indirect kiss???
“My, you two make quite the couple.” The vendor commented, clasping her hands together as she watched your interaction.
“We’re not dating.” Kita answered, squashing any hope you had from that interaction.
He was just?? So confusing??
You had so many little moments like this over the years. So many that had you often questioning deep into the night what truly was your relationship with the blunt captain of Inarizaki. You fell for him so many years ago, it made you wonder when was the last time you really thought of him as just a friend. Did he truly not know about your feelings?
But Kita was smart and on just as many occasions, you wondered if he knew the truth but simply did nothing about them. If he could read the twins with little effort, there was no doubt he understood your feelings long-ago, but decided not to act.
At least, that was your reason behind not openly admitting it to him:
That Kita knew you had a crush on him. And since he did not feel the same, it was better off if he did not address them.
And so you never brought it up, stewing in silence for years. 
Eight years was a long time to be in love alone.
“You should just give up on him.” Jisoo, your fellow Inarizaki manager commented one day. She was in the same class as the twins, a year your junior.
The both of you were lounging outside in the courtyard for lunch, a humidly hot day that made the two of you especially lazy this particular school-day. Only a few more hours more and you would be free of classes, liberated of any schoolwork and finally enjoying the weekend.
You were mindlessly scrolling through your phone, looking at the different posts on social media from your various friends. Atsumu had posted of his serve practice the day before, his comment section flooded with various hearts by his fan-club of all things. Osamu’s private Instabook was of food while Aran’s had posted one of the day’s blue skies.
“Why would I do that?” You asked with a sigh, already used to her trying to guide you away from him. You understood why, it was hardly a smart decision to hold onto your feelings, not that you really cared.
“Aren’t you tired of it by now?”
But was that a good enough reason at this point? You were a third-year and about to graduate. If there was one thing that was constant throughout your entire life in the farming prefecture you called a home, it was that you had feelings for the captain.
The sky was blue. Summer was hot. You liked Kita.
It was that simple sometimes. And while there were moments that hurt your heart, it was not like you had any head-space to even try to stop.
“Maybe.” You answered candidly, “Honestly, I wouldn’t even know how to. But I don’t want to either.”
“I worry about you, senpai.”
“What can I say?” You tried to joke, even with your sad smile. “Kita has my heart on lock-down.”
“We’re all going to the twins’ party this weekend, why don’t you try talking to some of the guys there?”
“Not this again.” You complained as you put your phone down on the table.
“Come on!” Jisoo pushed, “I’m sure there’ll be someone there that peaks your interest.”
You raised a brow in response, doubt evident on your face.
She teased, “It could also be on a purely physical level.”
Laughing at her statement, you said. “Like that’s any better.”
“A little smooches here and there never hurt anyone.”
“Now I’m worrying about you.”
She giggled, before continuing. “Just think about it. First guy tonight who hits on you, give him a chance.”
While you would have dismissed the thought immediately, there was something rather playful happening in the pit of your stomach. As if, for once in a long-time, you wanted to feel the puppy love of just casually flirting. Of grinning and laughing along with someone's advances and actually enjoying one these parties; rather than just sitting on the couch playing Mario Kart waiting for Kita to hopefully show.
“I don’t know, maybe.”
She sighed loudly, happy to have cracked you a little. Jisoo continued with a teasing grin on her face. “Oh right, I forgot. You’re a masochist.”
“I could’ve told ya that.” Another voice broke out, the familiar setter of two-tone hair taking the seat next to you. He picked at one of your french-fries, eating it with no preamble as Suna took the seat diagonal from you, next to Jisoo at the picnic table outside. 
For someone who spoke a lot of game about not being caught up with the twins, Suna tended to hang around Atsumu quite a bit.
“I am not a masochist.” You defended from Atsumu’s words, earning an eye-roll from the other female manager.
“Why else would you agree to manage a team with the twins?” Suna quipped before taking out his phone, probably scrolling through social media as well. Atsumu shrugged in agreement, a smirk on his face.
“Also, tell that to your love life.” Jisoo countered, playfully moving her lunch out of Atsumu’s reach before the setter could commandeer some of hers.
You quietly pushed the rest of your fries in his direction, appetite long gone on this overly humid day. Doing this sort of thing was actually quite natural with the twin, sharing food and hugs were a normal thing with your friend.
“It’s not that bad.” You argued.
“Wait, have ya ever dated before?” Atsumu asked.
“Have you?” You countered back, the setter was infamous for his many… romantic encounters. But the young man had yet to ever put a serious label on any of those instances, at least not to your knowledge.
He rolled his eyes in response, turning to Jisoo instead to continue.
“Come on senpai, not even a smooch?” She pushed.
You felt your face flush at having been called out, “Well....”
Atsumu turned his body toward you in his seat, his insufferably confident smirk back on, “I could help ya with that.”
You pushed away at his shoulder, “You say it like it’s a problem.”
“Ya savin’ it till ya get married or somethin’?” He asked, genuinely curious. Even Suna turned to you, looking up from his phone in interest.
You turned to Jisoo, the conversation taking a dangerous turn. If you said yes, their curiosity would definitely be spiked. And it was not like you could lie to them and say it was some random person in your class - you knew these boys for years, but they also knew you in kind. 
Yes or no?
The other manager did not even try to bail you out and your silence was already tantamount to an answer.
“Aww. How cute of ya, (L/N).” Atsumu chuckled, reaching to pat your head. You slapped it away before he got too close. For someone younger than you, he was quite the brat. Years of being friends long stripped away any formalities apparently.
“Looks like our heart-breaker manager is actually very sentimental.” Suna commented, a brow raised in your direction.
“Heart-breaker?” You questioned in genuine confusion.
“Come on, (L/N)-san.” Jisoo answered this time, “She’s had her heart set for so long, she hasn’t even seen the other boys she’s curved.”
“How is that possible when no one’s confessed to me?”
Jisoo laughed while Atsumu absently tapped his finger on the table, “Even I know that ain’t true, (L/N).”
“Whatever.” There was no reasoning with your underclassmen when they were this dead-set. No one had confessed to you before, right? At least none to your memory, they were just being instigators as usual?
“That doesn’t answer the question why ya sittin’ here single.” Atsumu stated.
“He obviously has feelings for you, but she’s too much of a wuss to confess.” Jisoo stated it plainly for you, then turned to look at Atsumu with an expectant face. “So it’s either because he hasn’t noticed, which I doubt, or he’s not looking for commitment.”
“Ah. And it’s someone we’ve known for years, huh?” Suna deduced, words come out slowly.
You straightened your back in surprise and shot warning looks toward both boys. This was getting too close, they were starting to put together pieces of a puzzle you hadn’t even willingly handed to them. And knowing these little shits, they were not going to let this go until they found out.
Atsumu inclined his head for you to continue while Suna’s eyes never left your own. Suna was smart all the time, but with being associated with the twins constantly, it was easy to forget that fact. And since the trio acted like idiots so often, you tended to forgo how truly analytical even the Atsumu was. 
This was not good - so not good. It probably would not take them long to deduce the person at this rate.
“I swear to the highest volleyball gods out there,” You spit out as your turned to the other manager, “I will fucking smite you off this planet if you say another word.”
Jisoo burst out laughing immediately, almost choking on her lunch as Atsumu grinned at your warning, the exact opposite response you wanted.
“Strong words ya got there.” He commented, body still angled toward yours in interest. “Looks like we hittin’ a lil too close to home?”
“Don’t even try it.” You responded back, turning away from his inquisitive eyes and back to your phone.
Needless to say, they didn’t listen.
Suna backed up in his seat, eyes glancing between you and the setter. “No commitment, huh?”
Meanwhile, Atsumu was rapid-firing questions. “Is it a second-year? Third-year? Is he on the volleyball team? Do we know ‘em personally?”
You smiled at his now peaked curiosity, the setter almost looking like a small puppy waiting for a treat. But you refused to answer, no doubt sure that they would tell the captain the moment they found out the truth. You turned to Jisoo, who was smiling away at Atsumu, but otherwise sat thankfully quiet.
Atsumu was firing off specific names now, hoping to get any response from you.
“The bastard’s gotta be on the team.”
“Bastard?” Jisoo laughed at the nickname.
“Shut up, Atsumu.” You countered, attempting to poke harshly at his forehead to stop. But he just grabbed the hand in one of his own, holding it in his lap as he continued to spit out names.
“Is it Aran?”
“Will you stop?”
“‘Samu?”
“I will murder you in cold blood.”
“... Is it me?”
You tried your best to pull your hand away, now realizing his tightening hold on against the skin of your hand. How long had you been sitting there holding hands? You felt a natural rosiness rise to your cheeks, not really because of the recipient, but because you were doing so in public with some guy.
Instead, you poked the setter’s side roughly, earning a deep groan, but freeing your hand in the process. Packing up your belongings, you stepped out of the picnic table and stated, “Lunch is almost over, we should get to class.”
You walked away with a small wave, the boys turning to the now only female occupant of the lunch-table.
“So…”
“Nu-uh.” Jisoo cut off Atsumu, moving to leave the table before she accidentally said anything.
“Throw a man a bone here! Or at least help him bone.” Atsumu murmured that last part under his breath, “Ya don’t even have to verbally confirm it - is it me?”
Jisoo paused as she stood, books in hand already. The look she threw him was mischievous, but otherwise she left in silence.
Unfortunately for you, all you were thinking about during class was that conversation you just had. Kita sat on your right in your next few classes, the mild Ōmimi behind the both of you. The last thing you needed was to linger on their teasing words of smooches and marriage. You couldn’t confess your feelings, imagining anything else?? You could only imagine the bright blush at the simple thought of it.
And apparently, you hadn’t hidden it well.
“Something wrong?”
There were still a couple more minutes until the teacher would return. And so you were sitting in the classroom with Kita alongside you, other students milling around the room. He was so damn good at reading people and you cursed that he was using it against you now.
“Just thinking about some stuff Jisoo said at lunch.” You tried to wave off.
“You’re blushing.” Kita stated bluntly, putting his book down as he spoke to you. 
He was never one to sugar-coat his words.
“Am I?” You put your palms to your cheeks, as if to feel the heat. There was no point in trying to lie to him. “She was teasing me about boys.”
“Oh. Are you dating anyone?” Kita asked.
God, this was awful. 
There was nothing worse than your crush asking about your crush.
“No, not yet.” You shook your head negatively, turning towards the window on your left, at least trying to hide your expression.
“Yet? Are you looking to date soon?”
You wanted to scream.
“Um, not in the near future.” You tried to deflect, “But it could happen!”
“Of course.” He smiled, “I packed extra onigiri for lunch, but I couldn’t find you. I’m not sure if you still want it.”
“Ah, I would love to! If I’m not imposing, then yes.”
Kita shook his head, “I packed it for you.”
“You’re so sweet sometimes.” You said honestly, taking it and munching down.
“You usually either forget your lunch or eat junk.” He stated plainly, making you suddenly blanch at his cold-words. I mean, he wasn’t exactly wrong either. You thought back to the lunch you had today, literally just water and french fries that you ended up giving to Atsumu.
“Ha, well.” You trailed off before settling on, “Thanks for always taking care of me.”
Kita’s small grin widened as he looked you in the eyes, “It’s my pleasure.”
When he said things like that, it easily set your heart aflame. It was so simple, such small interactions that you would have to squint hard to find anything underlying in his words. But you wanted to. You wanted to feel needed and also give to the captain as well.
The blush you had earlier was probably nothing in comparison to how you looked now, you were sure. And, with Kita being the ever smart cookie he was, there was no doubt that he spied your inflamed reaction.
Was that conversation over? Was he expecting a response?
Maybe the volleyball god’s did have mercy on your poor soul, since your teacher walked in then and thankfully brought your conversation to a halt. You tried not to outwardly seem relieved, turning to the front and taking out your notebooks.
Your mind wandered in and out of the lecture. There were moments that your gaze just happened to meander over to the captain to your right. It was one thing to suddenly notice you were staring at him, but another thing entirely to be caught in the action. Kita would usually just smile at you kindly, before nudging his chin toward the front of the room toward the teacher.
Even later during volleyball practice, your eyes would casually dawdle over to where the captain was standing. Whether he was watching the team with careful eyes or participating himself in practicing spikes, your eyes usually just found him.
But today was not the day to let down your guard.
Atsumu and Suna were paying careful attention to you. And now it was no secret where your gaze was pointed to. Suna smirked when he realized, but Atsumu clicked his tongue and mentally filed it away for later. Jisoo once snapped playful fingers in front of your face, grabbing your attention to flip the scoreboard.
When it was finally time to clean, Kita helped you collect the left-over volleyballs and roll the hammock into the proper storage room. You did so carefully, making sure not to accidentally touch his skin lest he back off from the motion. But the kind, neutral expression he shot you went straight to your heart.
“Let’s get the scoreboard next.” He instructed, the both of you moving to opposite sides of the wheeled board.
And you would have, if Atsumu had not thrown a casual arm across the captain’s shoulders.
“Hey, do ya mind helpin’ ‘Samu over there?” He motioned with his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to his twin who was not looking at all.
Slightly suspicious, Kita did as asked anyway and went with the grey-headed twin to mop the floors.
“What was that about?” You asked as Atsumu pushed the scoreboard along with you.
It was only when you entered the storage room alone that he replied, “So Mister No Gaps Kita Shinsuke, huh?”
“What?!” You fought the inward need to slap yourself, high voice and exclamation enough to show that he was right on the money. “You asshole, how do you know that?”
“I didn’t need anyone to tell me that.” He emphasized, gesturing at your eyes with two fingers. “Ya kept starin’ at ‘em the entire practice.”
You huffed frowning, “That obvious, huh?”
“Yea, he probably knows too - especially if Suna and I figured this shit out.”
That didn’t help at all.
“Great.” You leaned against the nearby wall and put a palm to your forehead.
Atsumu crossed his arms, “So why haven’t ya confessed to ‘em yet?”
You scoffed and shot him a flat-expression, “Because he doesn’t like me back?”
“What? He said that to ya?”
“Well, no.” You hesitated, but explained. “I mean, he definitely knows I have feelings. And Shinsuke has never been one to beat around the bush. If he hasn’t addressed it, it’s probably because he doesn’t want to make it awkward…  since he doesn't feel the same.”
“I think you’re a dumbass.” Atsumu stated back, sighing heavily. “Kita don’t think like that and we both know it.”
“Why else would he be waiting it out?” You asked, “This is the same Kita that told us he doesn’t understand how people feel nervous.”
“Jesus, (F/N). He was talkin’ about volleyball.” Atsumu groaned, raking one of his hands through his piss-blonde hair. “Kita’s human too. Maybe he’s not sure how ya would respond for the same reasons.”
“I don’t know if love advice from the school’s resident fuck-boy is a good idea.” You jabbed instead, a playful smile on your face.
Atsumu put a mock-offended hand on his chest, a smirk finding a way on his face before he squashed it down seriously. He took a step toward you until you were less than an arms’ length-apart, “Fine, have it your way. Stew in silence until he finds someone else.”
That struck a silent chord in you.
“Honestly, that was kind of the plan these past few years.” You admitted, turning your head toward the ground. “If he could find his true happiness with someone else, then I would be happy for him.”
Atsumu must have detected your seriousness, since he hesitated to say his next few words. “Don’ be like that. Stop bein’ an idiot - he likes you.”
“Shut up.”
“Come on, (L/N).” Atsumu levelled with you, “Ya standin’ here like ya ain’t the only girl he’s ever withstood.”
“Wow, what a feat.” You muttered as you sighed.
“Fine, if ya don’t believe that. Aren’t ya’ll best friends anyway?” Atsumu asked, “I’m sure he’d do anythin’ to keep you close.”
You hesitated, but agreed. Your relationship, no matter if he reciprocated your feelings or not, you were best friends. But if he didn’t feel the same and you said something? Would there ever be recovering from something like that?
Atsumu drew you out of your thoughts before he lost you further to your over-thinking, “You’re a real catch. Anybody would be lucky to have ya.”
“Oh?” You shot a withered smile at him.
“And I’m not just sayin’ that to put the moves on ya.” Atsumu joked, earning a light punch to his shoulder as you walked past him to leave.
“Yeah, yeah.” You said before turning back towards him, remembering to say. “None of this leaves this room. You hear that?”
“Yes ma’am.” He mock-saluted, a second later a loud ahem ringing through the room.
You tensed up and turned toward the door, seeing a blank-faced Shinsuke standing in the open doorway. Atsumu was always surprised, albeit much less worried than you were. Was your secret finally out?
“Am I interrupting something?” He asked, before you pushed shouted a loud No! and brushed past him back into the gymnasium.
Atsumu tried to casually exit the room as well, before his captain’s voice rang-out again, “Care to explain what that was about?” 
The setter had two options here: either brush it off or fan the flames that he knew for a fact was there. You were the obvious party, openly staring at the captain like your eyes belonged on him. But Atsumu knew that those feelings were not as unrequited as you thought. 
He remembered some club-room talk not that long ago. It was normal for the guys to discuss their preferences, something that Atsumu was rather vocal about on multiple occasions. Aran was just looking for someone he could cook while Ōmimi stated he liked girls who were generally very kind. Osamu preferred someone who was a bit meeker while Atsumu loved ‘em vocal, even bratty to the point of talking back.
“Of course, you would.” Suna commented as he dressed.
“What the fuck do ya mean by that?” The setter bit out.
“As in the fuckboy thinks he’s a girl tamer.” Suna snarkily replied.
“Well, when a girl has a mouth on her. I want to put it to good use.” Atsumu said with a smirk, earning a loose towel to the head, one that Osamu had just launched from across the room. Aran sighed and grabbed it before Atsumu could whip it back. Kita nodded toward his counterpart in quiet thanks.
Many of the others were still dressing after practice this day, it would be annoying to have to break up another fight between the twins then.
“Can ya be less of an asshole?” The grey-headed twin asked.
“Wha? I’m speakin’ the truth!” Atsumu defended, “Not every girl is like that anyway.”
“And who would the infamous Ratsumu have his eyes on?” Suna asked, genuinely curious but not missing the chance to poke at the setter.
Atsumu frowned, but continued anyway. “No one, right now. But I still got eyes, ya know. Ya can’t tell me our manager ain’t a cutie.”
“She would rather hand you a new asshole than ever date you.” Suna said, to which Akagi laughed.
“Careful, ‘Tsamu.” Osamu playfully warned, “People might think ya like (L/N)-san.”
“What can I say, she’s single and hot as fuck.” Atsumu replied off-handedly. 
It was a plain statement, but you could almost physically feel the temperature change in the club-room. Aran was glancing between the captain while the rest wondered why it was suddenly dead silent.
Osamu wondered if his prayers had been heard and he would soon be an only child.
“I suggest not saying that again.” Kita stated over his shoulder as he buttoned up the rest of his shirt.
That was a clear enough warning to everyone in the room that you were off limits. Suna had remembered this instance as well, in the present day reminding Atsumu after lunch not to push any buttons. It was clear then that Kita had no tolerance to any shit he was going to pull and now the pining was mutual on both your ends. Suna reminded him again and again during class to just let you and Kita sort your feelings naturally.
Pfft.
Was Atsumu going to be a little shit and try to sew some discord?
Hell yes.
“What can I say?” Atsumu feigned being casual, even shrugging as he exited the quiet storage room. “A pretty girl and a young guy enter a closet alone together, you know the rest.”
The glare he felt on his neck could have been enough to snap it with this much pressure. But, Atsumu digressed. He was doing the both of you a favor anyway, pushing you together when you both already had feelings for one another (albeit with some mind games interspersed).
Atsumu almost laughed when Kita grabbed your hand when the two of you walked home together. 
Kita knew what the setter was doing. What buttons he was trying to push, what he was trying to imply with you. The captain knew it all and he was still getting pissed off.
True to everyone’s assumptions, Kita knew about your feelings for him. The extent and duration, that he was not sure of. But he knew that you have thought about him in a romantic light for quite some time. Lingered looks and purposeful touches, on both your ends, was not something he could easily ignore.
What made Kita wonder was why you hadn’t said anything at all?
You were often pretty straight-forward as well. Not exactly in terms of romance, but you when were interested in something you tended to speak your mind. Whether it be a new show, some shounen anime you were following along with, you always shared it with him.
And for that fact he was always grateful.
Many of the others your age tended to be warded off by his way of thinking, branding him too mature or even too cold at times. To think that even the sarcastic Suna had nicknamed him as a robot, it was interesting to see that was how most people saw him.
But you didn’t.
Or at least, you saw passed his cold exterior and were just a freely-spoken with your mind. Kita’s blunt way of speaking had casualties sometimes, but you usually voiced if his blunt speech was too much. There were times that, if you were inadvertently hurt by his words, you would say it out-loud.
He remembered the last time this happened, not even a month ago. The two of you were hanging out under the shade of a tree, about to go out to a team hangout when you exited your back porch wearing a blue sundress. It flirted high above your knees and showed off the creamy legs of yours that he loved to trail his eyes over.
You looked breath-taking.
And so he said:
“Is there an occasion I’m missing today? I thought we were just going out with the team.”
The disappointed look on your face was immediate and it did not take a genius to figure those were the wrong words to say. But what he was not sure is where it went wrong. Logically, it made sense. You were going to walk at least two miles to the train and then from there a mile to the arcade. And most of that time you would all be standing. Would you even be comfortable doing all this walking in sandals?
But you didn’t get offended or draw away from him from these smaller misunderstandings.
You were always ready to knock some sense into him if need be.
“Not even a compliment on how I look? How mean.” You said with a frown, “I tried a bit more because I don’t usually get the chance to.”
“I know, but I want you to be comfortable considering the walks today.” Kita lightly grabbed your elbow as he stepped closer, “Besides, you always look beautiful no matter what you’re wearing.”
Your blush was palpable, Kita was almost sure he could fry an egg on your forehead, if the redness was any indication of temperature. 
“Let’s save this dress for another occasion. Preferably where only I see these.” He glanced down to indicate your legs, to which you sputtered and allowed him to guide you back inside the house.
And instead, he picked a pair of light-colored shorts and a loose summer-blouse. Kita knew you had a pair of black-and-white sneakers that would go with it anyway. You commented how it was almost scary that Kita knew your wardrobe, but he stated it simply:
I like what you wear. And I think it looks very agreeable on you.
It was simple and he stated it thusly. And from your reaction, it seemed as if it had made your day. From the beaming smile on your face to the new skip in your step, it was clear to him that he had amended the situation properly with your guidance.
But he still had the same issue: Kita thought he was being clear as day.
There was no one else he was spending time with like this. No one else whom Kita was expressing interest in like he was with you. From sharing ice-cream to hangouts alone with just the two of you, he thought his way of flirting with you was obvious? His actions alone should have been clear that he was showing his own interest in you.
And so if Kita was being clear with his feelings, why hadn’t you said anything?
This was not something he could just say and retract, either. The last thing he wanted to do was put your entire friendship on the line just to lose you. What if you actually did not feel the same way? But from your constant blushing and obvious gaze on him, you liked him too? But why hadn’t you said anything? Were you expecting him too?
He almost groaned aloud at this line of thinking.
Nothing had him flustered quite like you. Kita was confident both in school and on the court, a sure faith that no matter where it was. It was not a baseless arrogance, but more like a calm trust that he knew what he was doing was right.
And yet…
When it came to you, that brand of confidence simply withered away. Not always a bad thing, you often caught him off-guard with your own kindness and rarely did you ever truly fight. But there were times that he sorely wished he knew what was going on in that head of yours.
Like why hadn’t you said anything to him regarding this tension?
Or better yet, why the hell were you whispering with Atsumu in the gym closet?
The setter knew all about your being off-limits. Kita made it very clear that day and it seemed even then, the message did not totally receive in the asshole's mind. Or rather, it probably did, Atsumu just decided to ignore it.
And so on your shared walk home after practice, Kita gently grabbed your hand and did not let go. You almost jumped in surprise alongside him. Not that you hadn’t held hands before, but it was usually called for in the context. Navigating one of the twin’s parties, through a crowded group, or just to guide you somewhere.
But never had he held your hand for no reason.
Kita just smiled, hoping this would send a clear enough message to both you and the meddlesome boys behind you.
Meanwhile, Atsumu had to stop himself from cackling aloud. Osamu was ready to question his brother over what the hell was that about, but Suna assured him that it was best not to get involved at this rate. Aran simply sighed, but waved goodbye and goodnight to the rest of the team.
Your smile was a mask to your inward screaming, only to be silenced to a blank void. Your mind was comparable to that picture of spilled milk - the only thing inside as if the very act was an enigma. You had no idea what to say, what to do in this situation as you both continued to walk along.
For someone who was an athlete, the skin of his hand was surprisingly soft as it encased your own. You felt your hand unconsciously squeeze his and feared that the act would have him pulling away, as if waking him up from his act. But Kita squeezed back, a fond expression reflected back at you.
The two of you walked home together whenever you had the chance, unless called for by other duties. So this was usually normal for the two of you. Conversation was just easy, ranging from school or recent events, and even if one-sided you had no issues with simply speaking to the captain. And yet today…
Kita and you were both completely silent.
You couldn’t even tell if something else was on his mind, a neutral look on his face as he looked ahead. Was this action to show that he was reciprocating your feelings? You hated being unsure like this, but there was too much vulnerability to simply lay-out what you wanted to say.
Even on the train, Kita sat next to you quietly but still held your hand over his knee. You watched the action, before trying to level your breathing as to not freak out. But Kita kept going about his day, even taking out his phone to check a few texts with the other hand.
It was meant to show this was entirely on purpose.
Only when your house popped into view during something conspiratory popped into your mind - Did one of the boys tell him?
You felt the small seed of hope grow further. Was it just a coincidence that the day Suna and Atsumu found out about your secret was the same day, after literal years, that Kita found out as well? And that maybe if he knew now, was he reciprocating in some way?
You moved to glance at him in the corner of your eye, but he was already looking at you.
The both of you stopped short of the gate, but you hesitated for a second to say anything. There was so much on your mind and stewing in silence was the exact opposite thing you wanted to do. Before you could even think of words to say, your captain made the first move again.
Kita tenderly reached for your other hand, holding both in his much larger ones. He brought them up together and shot you a gentle smile, “(F/N), your hands are so soft.”
It came out like word vomit.
“I like you, Kita!”
SHIT.
Maybe you read him wrong?? If he was going to make a move, why was he looking at you so surprised??
“And here I was, wanting to say something first.” Kita said as he chuckled lightly, his hands gliding the rest of the way up your arms. “I like you, too.”
You didn’t even have time to overthink, Kita wasting no time and pulling you towards him. Quickly raising your hands to his chest, you steadied yourself against him as he held you in the close embrace. His smile was almost blinding - not from the size, but rather the genuine feel behind it.
Your hands slid upwards, folding behind his neck as your faces drew closer together. One of his hands gently carded in your hair, lightly guiding you to him. You closed your eyes in silent anticipation, long awaited joining finally happening with only stars as your audience.
The skin of his lips slotted gently against yours and you silently relished the feel of the prolonged peck. You pulled him closer, silently nudging him to go the step further. Kita smiled in response, making you beam right back at him. It was honestly hard to deepen the kiss further, expressions pulled from your shared grins. You were two idiots smiling at one another, foreheads pressed together as you struggled to deepen your impassioned kiss.
“I’ve waited so long to hold you like this.” Kita whispered against your lips, one of his hands resting around your waist.
“Me too.” You replied in a low vice, eyes still closed as you just felt him.
He watched your cute expression, from your rosy appearance to the way you deliciously leaned your body into him. Kita felt his eyes shutter closed, savoring the feeling of you two finally joined. You moved together in tandem, softly at first, and then with a swift intensity that made you cling to him even further - as if Kita was the only solid thing in this suddenly swaying world.
The world was constantly moving, either too fast or too slow or too much at times. Until finally, in Kita’s arms, it finally felt right.
“I’ve liked you for a really long time.” You confessed.
“I know.” Kita responded simply, “Me too.”
You almost wanted to laugh, but withheld it from possibly breaking the atmosphere. “Is it really that simple?”
“Yes.” Kita said as he smiled, moving to place a light kiss on your forehead. “I was honestly… afraid to say anything in fear of your response. But now we are both aware, right?”
You grinned back and stretched on your tippy-toes to kiss his cheek, “Yes.”
“That’s it then.” Kita stated as he leaned his forehead back against yours, “You’re mine. And I’m yours.”
You whispered back, “Sounds like a deal.”
His insistent mouth parted your eager lips, sending wild tremors crawling up your spine, evoking sensations you had never known you were even capable of feeling. And as the swimming giddiness spun you round and round, you steadied yourself to kiss him back just as passionately. With a swipe of his tongue against the crease of your lips, you parted your mouth eagerly.
There was no battle, no insistent fight between your two appendages. There was only Kita, eagerly roaming around your mouth as you sensually rubbed tongues. You openly moaned at the feeling, not even noticing the noise until Kita was smiling in response.
You blushed at the realization, but Kita only complimented the sound. “Make that noise again for me.”
Your smile dropped to a more sultry smirk.
“You’ll have to earn it.”
Kita felt his eyes comically widen before dropping to a half-lid, “Oh?”
“My parents aren’t home…”
“Oh.”
Kita placed a kiss on your forehead just to lean away, one of his hands dropping to grab your own. You hurried along with his pace, suddenly breaking out into a faster walk in the direction of your home.
“Let’s make up for lost time, shall we?”
BONUS:
“No way.” Jisoo commented on the sight before her, nudging Atsumu standing next to her. The twin’s party was ravaging around them, but there was an unlikely and yet very likely couple that had just walked through the door. And while it was normal to see the two of them together, it was the first official time as an exclusive couple.
Walking in was Kita and you, hands clasped together like this was oh so natural.
Akagi greeted the both of you with a smile while Aran waved you guys over to the living, where many of the other team members were playing a game. Kita guided you through the party, joined hands proudly on display for all party goers.
Atsumu held out a hand in Jisoo direction’s, causing her to frown but nonetheless place some lost yen in his open palm.
But seeing you smile and share a kiss openly with the captain, Jisoo didn’t exactly mind losing this bet.
---xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx---
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floralseokjin · 3 years
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final sleigh drabble #2
❛ it’s Christmas day night...❜
original oneshot here // drabble index here
kim seokjin x reader smut  4,179 words 
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It was Christmas Day night. You’d spent most of yesterday and today at Ana’s parents’ house. It was different to how your own family celebrated the occasion but lovely, nonetheless. Her family always made you feel welcome, no matter the instance, and you were really grateful that they’d let you spend Christmas with them, like you’d already said, because your parents were spending the holiday season abroad. 
Now, just gone eight, you and Ana were getting out of an Uber outside a familiar house. Seokjin and Yoongi’s. You hadn’t seen your co-worker, since the weekend. The weekend of nonstop sex. You’d only parted because he had a train to catch, promising his mom he’d visit for a few of days before Christmas Eve. The sex had been so good it had taken him a while to remember said plans actually, and when he had, he’d unbelievably tried getting out of them just so he could stay and fuck you even more. 
“You want to ditch your mom to continue getting your dick wet?” You asked him with severe judgment, both of you naked in your bed. It was Sunday morning. Yes, that was correct. He’d stayed over practically 48 hours nailing you over and over again. And then some. 
“Don’t say it like that,” he whined, feeling instantly guilty. “I just don’t want to leave you. I’m having too much fun.” 
“We can still have fun when you get back.” You murmured suggestively, running a hand down his chest. You were not ready to give this all up quite yet… 
With a raised eyebrow, he seemed intrigued. “Even more fun than right now?” 
“We can try.” 
You hadn’t known if it was possible, the weekend had been very fun to say the least, but who knew. You’d definitely give it your all... 
You’d spent the last few days messaging each other sporadically, but there hadn’t been too much conversation. You mean, you’d never talked a lot before the sex, so why would you start after it? But seeing his face right now, as he opened the door, you practically beamed. 
“Merry Christmas, ladies,” he grinned, outstretching his arm to gesture you both to step inside. 
Admittedly, you weren’t expecting him to invite you over tonight. He’d been back since Friday but you hadn’t made plans to meet again yet so when he’d text you this afternoon, asking if you and Ana would like to come hang out with Yoongi and him, you’d been surprised. Excited, yet surprised, but obviously you’d played it cool. 
Ana had been a little reluctant. She had slept with Yoongi a couple of weeks ago after all – and hadn’t seen him since. But, obviously Seokjin had run this idea by him? They’d both decided it together, right? So it was fine. Plus, she needed to support her best friend. If she wanted you to get boned again, she needed to come! You couldn’t turn up on your own. Not that she needed much convincing after the initial unwilling... Secretly you thought she was hoping for a round two with Seokjin’s best friend... Who knew, maybe he was too... 
Ana stepped in first and as you followed Seokjin pulled out a small piece of mistletoe from behind his back. He held it up between you both, taking you by surprise. A good surprise though. “Oh,” you uttered, wasting no time in reacquainting your mouths. 
“He’s been planning this all day.” It was Yoongi’s voice, coming from somewhere ahead of you, but you both ignored him, kissing just a little longer. 
Ana scoffed. “Surely no planning was needed. It’s holding up some mistletoe.” 
“Mmm. I missed you,” Seokjin hummed, breaking away to snake an arm around your middle. 
“I missed you too,” you grinned, aware Seokjin was dialling up the amount of yuck to piss your two friends off. 
“Jesus, you guys.” Yoongi sounded like he was about to be sick. “I preferred it when she hated you.” 
Seokjin turned to the other guy, sounding vaguely annoyed. “She never hated me. It was a misunderstanding.” 
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, man,” Yoongi chuckled. “Ana, let’s leave them to it. I’ll get you a drink.” 
You watched as they walked off together, towards the kitchen. Seokjin was the first to turn back to you, an eyebrow raised. “How much do you wanna bet they end up hooking up again?”
You were both on the same wavelength. It was obvious something was going to happen. “She hogged the entire bathroom getting ready.” 
.
“Have fun, you guys,” Seokjin sang as Yoongi and Ana made a less that inconspicuous exit from the living room. It was three hours later. They’d lasted well, but obviously the need to get in on again had won. 
Seokjin turned to you immediately, sat next to you on the sofa and gave you a wolfish grin. “Finally, we’re alone.” 
You were no sooner in his lap, mouth glued to his. Moving your ass a little as you broke apart for a much needed breath, you felt the familiar impression of his erection. “You’re hard already?” You raised a judgmental eyebrow. 
“Why do you sound so shocked?” He questioned indignantly. “My dick has missed you insanely.” 
“Just your dick?” 
It was a playful remark, you didn’t mean anything by it, but Seokjin lowered his gaze, giving you a small chuckle. Instead of answering he kissed you again, his tongue pushing its way inside your mouth as his hands gripped your ass and rubbed you against his groin. Instant pleasure zapped up your body and it wasn’t long before you were grinding on your own accord, fists clutching his white t-shirt, which you had to admit, outlined his chest perfectly – You’d been trying not to stare all night. 
“Do you want to go upstairs too?” He panted against your neck, teeth nipping the flesh sharply and you bit back a moan. He was already so tuned into what you liked. “I really need to fuck you.” Pulling back to get your answer he saw the look on your face. “What’s that face for?” 
“It’s turning into a sex party,” you moaned. You couldn’t all be having sex upstairs, it seemed... You couldn’t think of the word. 
“An orgy?” Seokjin wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 
“Behave.” You needed more people to turn it into an orgy.
Seokjin’s mouth was back on your neck, kissing down your throat, to your collarbones and he sunk his teeth into the thin skin gently, causing your breath to hitch. “Well, do you wanna fuck down here?” 
His dick was so hard underneath you, you rubbed against it some more, despite your objections. “No! What if one of them catches us?” 
“Don’t be stupid. Yoongi is definitely balls deep by now.” 
You whacked his back and he yelped in surprise. “That’s my best friend you’re talking about.” 
“I didn’t say who or what he was balls deep in.”  His reply didn’t impress you and so he grumbled. “I wish I was balls deep in you right now... Don’t give me that look, it turns me on when you’re pissy.”
Unable to stop your grin, you leaned in. “You must be constantly turned on at work then.” Pressing your lips into his, you bit down on his bottom lip. His hiss soon turned into a moan – and then a whine. 
“Let’s take this upstairs. There’s a bathroom between our bedrooms. It won’t be like our headboards are hitting the wall in rhythm.” 
“Fine.” You couldn’t hold out much longer anyway, and you both made your way upstairs, yelping loudly when Seokjin slapped your ass. You glare didn’t do much to discourage him, laughing loudly as he wrapped his arms around your middle and directed you to the door to his bedroom. 
“At least they’re being considerate and playing music,” he said, the music loud enough to block any other noise going on inside Yoongi’s bedroom... Thank God. 
“I feel like I’m back at college,” you whined as you stepped inside Seokjin’s room. 
“Huh? Did you and Ana make a habit of hooking up at the same time? Hot.” 
You pushed his arm. “No.” Chuckling, he made his way to the bed, sitting on the end, but you were too preoccupied with checking out his room. It was a lot larger than you imagined, walls cream, some covered in artwork. His computer was the main attraction, multiple screens, an unnecessarily large gaming chair and some other things you weren’t familiar with, mainly character figurines. His bed cover was a grey check pattern, a throw draped over the end with a couple of cushions against the headboard. Very clean. 
“Your room’s cute,” you commented. 
“Cute?” 
“Yeah.” Turning to look at him you smiled playfully. “So, I guess this is where you jerk your dick to fantasies of me.” 
He scoffed. “I don’t need to fantasise anymore. I have memories stored away in the wank bank.” Tapping his temple with his index finger he looked more than impressed with himself. 
“Gross!” You cried. 
“Come here,” he groaned, fed up with stalling, and he leaned over and grabbed you, causing you to squeal. “Or are you just planning on being a cocktease the whole night?” The sound wasn’t like you – but Seokjin had become good at making you act in ways you weren’t used to so far... 
Which is why you found yourself on your knees for him, sucking his dick, his jeans and underwear around his ankles. “Your mouth is fucking magic,” he grunted, head falling back, his perfect, thick neck on show as you glanced up. You felt the urge to take him deeper, pushing him closer and closer to the back of your throat, ignoring any noises of reluctance it made. 
“Fuck.” Seokjin choked, his fingers running through your hair to collect it in his fists. “That’s it. Take it all.” He pushed his hips up, stuffing your mouth for a few gloriously unbearable seconds before easing up. You lifted off, half of his dick still in your mouth as you caught your breath. He looked down at you with half-lidded eyes that seemed to eat you up. “Do you like choking on my cock?” 
Nope. He was not doing this. It was infuriating what his words did to you, and you immediately swallowed him again, ignoring the way your underwear stuck to your damp skin. He was going to have a field day when he felt you... 
Gasping for air not soon after, you had no choice but to pull off him entirely, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You were drenched in spit, so was his cock. You watched him kick off his clothing, naked from the waist down and you made moves to follow, reaching for your shirt and pulling it over your head. 
“Let me see those tits. I’ve missed them.” He murmured, and you complied, unhooking your bra to reveal yourself to him. His eyes instantly glazed over.  Confidently, you cupped the soft flesh in your palms, massaging yourself, putting on a show, and as your thumbs brushed the hardened peaks that were your nipples he practically growled. “Oh, fuck. You want to end me.” 
Laughing, you stood up, pushing your skirt off your hips, leaving you in just your tights and panties. He followed with his t-shirt, now fully naked. You’d never get enough of his body. “Come up here,” he whined. “Let me taste them.” 
Sat in his lap, you let him grope you, his mouth making out with your chest like it could kiss back. The sensation was so intense you quickly became weak at the knees and you clung to his neck, grinding against his thighs like nobody’s business. Unable to take it any longer, his hands slipped behind you, into your underwear, and he felt the silky fabric with a groan. Soon enough he was wrestling with your pantyhose again. 
“These fucking things. What the fuck. You’re doing it on purpose now.” 
“Am not,” you insisted. (Maybe you were). “I need to keep my legs warm.” With a furious tug you heard a rip and looking down you saw his damage. “Seokjin! You laddered them!” 
“Ugh. Just get them fucking off already, I need to feel you.” 
Asshole, but wet and desperate you quickly pulled then off, giving Seokjin a great view of your ass in the process. The underwear you had on had a cut-out at the top of your ass, revealing a “cleavage” of sorts. He seemed to appreciate the sight very much, giving you a playful smack and now you were very confused. Was he an ass man like you’d originally thought, or a tits guy? He was probably both. Greedy. 
You slipped the panties off too, settling back down in Seokjin’s lap, who instantly started running his fingers over your heat. You pulsed against him, desperate for some stimulation. 
“I swear to God you get wet so easily.” 
Says the guy who’d grown hard from a kiss? Okay... “Are you complaining?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. It’s stroking my ego.” 
“Your massive ego.” 
“Behave, or I won’t fuck you with my massive dick.” Okay, now he was just bragging. His smirk was annoying you. He looked way too sexy. 
You were expecting him to finger you for a bit, make sure you were stretched out enough for him, but all he did was dip his fingertips into your entrance, content with what he’d felt and then he was shuffling out from under your body to grab a condom from his bedside drawer. 
“God. I want to fuck you so much,” he muttered a few moments later, sliding the latex over his length as you securely sat on top of him again. You kissed him sloppily, letting him angle the head of his cock against your entrance. Impatiently, you pushed down, surprising yourself – and him – when you took him whole. 
You sat there, both breathing heavily as you started to adjust to him, walls clamping down like no tomorrow, which must have been torture for Seokjin, if his expression was anything to go by. 
“Shit. You got tighter,” he panted, reaching for your mouth again, trying to calm himself with kisses. You attempted to do the same, beginning to slowly grind back and forth, getting used to the full feeling. It wasn’t painful, just a little uncomfortable, but you were no longer scared of his monster cock. You’d had a fair few goes last weekend and you were now a near enough pro, so without further ado, you started moving for real. Up, until he was almost out of you and then down, slamming into him. You just about knocked the air out of Seokjin’s lungs, but he soon steeled himself, grabbing the tops of your thighs to keep you safe as you started bouncing up and down, riding his dick like it was the easiest thing in the world. In this moment, it was. 
Seokjin started groaning pretty quickly, his jaw clenched as he watched your every movement, his chest and neck patched with red. You clung to his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as you flung yourself back. 
“Shit. Y/N!” He panicked, hands coming out to hold your lower back, afraid you were going to fall backwards off the bed. You were still sat on the edge after all, but of course he was strong enough to hold you tight, letting you lean back as far as possible to fuck yourself along his cock, the squelchy, sticky noise music to his ears. 
“Mmm. I missed this cunt so much,” he moaned. 
You wanted to tell him he was being a big baby, it had only been a few days but his vulgar words were having the desired effect on you yet again. You were like putty in his hands, especially when he started thrusting into you, meeting your movements with a thud. “I want you to cum on my dick.” 
Fuck. You were so close, his words only helping, but by now you were getting tired; out of breath and sweaty. “Seokjin—!” You moaned, voice breaking at the second syllable, and you leaned forward, collapsing into his chest. 
“Take it easy,” he murmured, hands dragging up your sweaty back. “Want me to take over?”
You grinned drunkenly. “No way, I’m enjoying myself too much.” 
Seokjin chuckled, pressing his mouth into yours. “Make yourself cum.” He whispered against you, thrusting into you still as he grabbed your ass, digging his fingers into the flesh. “You can do it, Y/N. Grind on me like you mean it. Grind all over me.” 
You listened, rutting into each one of his thrusts, holding on for dear life as your sensitive clit rubbed against his groin. You were both so sweaty and hot, your fingers sliding down his back, unable to grip on until you dug your nails into the skin. He hissed, thrusting into you harder. It seemed like Seokjin liked a little pain, too... 
“Baby, go a little faster,” he panted, kissing your neck, and you sped up, grinding into him messily, chasing your high like something possessed. You were so turned on, so sensitive, it only took a couple more minutes, a strangled cry leaving you as you tensed in his arms, your orgasm rocketing up your body.  “Ngh, fuck. Fuck.” 
Seokjin stopped his thrusts, letting you gradually come down, and soon enough your body relaxed, almost turning into goo as the pleasure warmed its way all throughout you. You lifted your head up, staring Seokjin straight in the eyes, both of you panting like crazy, and without a word he lifted you, flipping you over, your back to his mattress before he crawled over you. He wasn’t done yet – and neither were you. 
As he pushed inside you again, his hand found its way around your throat and he looked down at you carefully. “Is this okay?” 
You nodded, voice hoarse as you replied. “Yeah.” 
It wasn’t the first time he’d asked or done this – last weekend had been a lot, you still weren’t over it, and right now you were still so horny and desperate for him. You also really liked the feeling of his grip around your neck as he fucked you. 
“Fuck,” you breathed, feeling him start to thrust harder, faster, his palm tightening around your neck a little. You folded your legs at the knees and widened them, wanting him as deep as possible. 
“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he grunted, kissing your mouth in a frenzy, all tongue and teeth. His whole body was pressed into yours, pushing you into the mattress, his pelvis beginning to rub against your mound. You were still a little sensitive from your first orgasm, but you could already feel yourself a little needy for another. If he kept this up he’d have you coming again, and he knew by the way you started to meet each one of his thrusts, moans starting to slip from your throat – louder and louder. You hoped Yoongi still had his music on... 
“S-seokjin,” you stammered, hands sprawled across his back as you felt that familiar sensation again. “I’m going to–ngh–”
He moaned in reply, pushing into your harder, using his pelvis to get you off, and you held your breath, willing your orgasm to come. Your walls clenched around him, making it harder and harder for him to drag his cock inside of you, but he fought it, continuing with gritted teeth until he heard you cry out, your body stiffening under his. 
It wasn’t as strong as your last orgasm, but seemed to knock you for six, heady dizzy as you felt Seokjin kiss down your chest, slipping out of you carefully. His tongue circled one of your nipples, his hand cupping the other breast as he groaned softly. His erection bobbed against your inner thigh. 
“Coming on my cock twice. You’re amazing.” He awed, lifting his head up to smile at you. He sounded drunk. You felt drunk. 
“Well, I do try.” You joked, voice soft. 
He chuckled, and then his voice grew serious, eyes large and black, still very much turned on. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.” 
It was pretty obvious, his dick burning a hole against your leg. “Your cum.” 
His eyes widened, obviously not expecting you to be so upfront, and you took great pleasure in that. 
“Where?” He whispered. He didn’t bother to wait for your reply. “Mouth? Can I come in your mouth,” he asked. 
Your stomach dipped with urgent need, and you nodded your head rapidly. “Yeah.” 
He sat up instantly, moving to kneel over your face. He tugged the condom off, jerking himself off a couple of times before his eyes met yours. “Tongue out.” You obeyed, keeping your eyes open as the weight of his cock pressed against your tongue. “Good girl.” 
Okay, that was new. He hadn’t called you that last week, and instantly you felt your gut squeeze. You sucked the tip of his cock, eager now for him to cum in your mouth. As you did so, he started jerking himself off, eyes fluttering closed as his head lolled back, Adam’s apple bobbing slowly. His movements grew quicker, matching his breathing and then he hissed, body tensing up. 
“Fuckkk.” A couple of drops of cum landed against your tongue and you swallowed them, ready for more. You sucked him for all he was worth, your gaze never leaving his face, and even once he was done, you kept on lapping him with your tongue, digging the tip across the slit. 
He shuddered, making a strained noise and he pulled back, his cock falling out of your mouth. “Shit. I’m sensitive,” he laughed, collapsing next to you. You were both out of breath and sweaty, but wholeheartedly satisfied. 
“That’s gotta be the best yet?” You asked, grinning from ear to ear. 
“I think you may be right.” He agreed, pushing his hair out of his eyes, exposing his forehead. You wanted to reach over and kiss him, but you stopped yourself. “You were riding dick like a pornstar.” 
“Shut up,” you whined, pushing his shoulder. How embarrassing. 
Laughing at your reaction, he sat up, propping himself up with his elbow. “If you want the bathroom I have one over there.” 
You followed his thumb to a door on the right of his room. “An en suite? Very fancy.” 
Seokjin shrugged. “Yoongi has the main bathroom, so.” You didn’t move, tired more than anything, peeing could probably wait. Seokjin’s brows furrowed together. “Are you okay though?” 
“Of course,” you laughed. “I feel fricking amazing. I’ll be sad once this ends.” 
As soon as you said the words you felt funny. Seokjin looked surprised, voice low with... what was it, concern? “Who says it has to end? Do you want it to?” 
“...No,” you answered after a pause. 
Truthfully you didn’t want it to end just yet, you were enjoying yourself, you were just unsure of what was happening between the two of you... You’d  both confessed something back at the office last week but you were still uncertain what exactly it was. What had you been expecting? To fuck once and then that would be it? You liked having sex with Seokjin, it was fun, and you liked his company (most of the time). You liked him. He liked you. Maybe you didn’t need to put an expiry date on this thing. It was fine to see where it went. You didn’t need to turn it into a big deal. You didn’t need an outright answer for everything. It was fine to just live in the moment. 
“I don’t either,” Seokjin smiled, looking mildly relieved by your answer. 
“I just... when work starts back we won’t have much time to meet up like this.” 
“I’ll make time, trust me.” He kissed you then, hovering over you, lips warm and soft, a far cry from earlier, and the thought made you giggle. 
“What?” He asked bemused. 
“You know, you turn pretty demanding when you get horny.” 
He raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
“Like, bossy and all, I don’t know, domineering.” You shrugged, feeling a little awkward. “It’s hot.” 
He smiled, chuckling softly as he kissed you again, a hand cupping your face. “It’s not too much?” He murmured. 
He didn’t sound surprised by your revelation so something told you he was aware of how he acted. Which made it even hotter, to be honest. 
“I like it.” You told him, biting down on your bottom lip. 
Eyes darkening, he hummed, his gaze running down your body. “So how about I tell you to spread those gorgeous legs so I can eat dessert?” 
You repressed the urge to laugh out loud. Dessert?! He was such an idiot. “Right now?”
“Yes. Right now.” Then he paused, rubbing his nose against yours, his tone softening. “Yeah?”
With a massive grin, you spread your legs. “Be my guest.” 
A third orgasm? You weren’t going to turn that down. 
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 Written 2020 - 2021.  Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021
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