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nadvs · 3 months ago

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the power play (part one)

pairing hockeyplayer! rafe cameron x tutor! reader

rating mature 18+

summary rafe is your complete opposite. the only thing you have in common with the hockey player you tutor is that he’s also recently had his heart broken. in a last-ditch effort to make the people who hurt you regret it, you agree to pretend to date.

tags college au. fake dating. grumpy athlete/sunshine tutor. reader is bubbly, talkative, and passionate about literature. very slowburn. he falls first. alcohol use. suggestive moments, but no smut.

power play (noun)

an offensive tactic in a team sport; a deliberate attempt to manipulate someone.

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You hoped it wouldn’t feel the way it used to, but as you sit in the stands behind the home bench next to Lyla, it’s all the same.

You’re watching Beck zip across the ice with a painfully familiar sense of longing hammering into your chest. Falling for him always felt inevitable; you just didn’t expect that he wouldn’t be there to catch you.

When you and Lyla became friends in the ninth grade, you quickly grew close to her family, spending more time at their house than your own, tagging along to watch her twin brother’s hockey games.

The more you got to know Beck, the more you fell under his spell, charmed by his warmth, by every part of him that made him the most captivating person you’d ever met.

He stole your heart. Considering the way he treated you, you were sure you’d stolen his, too.

You spent most of last semester helping him with a class, even though you were in the same overwhelming throws of being a college freshman. Every study session in his dorm room drifted by with an undercurrent of certainty that he felt something, too.

It crushed you to realize that it’d all been in your head. A few weeks ago, you’d met him after his final exam, which he said he knew he nailed thanks to you.

You thought he was finally going to make the move that felt like it’d been hanging over you for years. But all he did was pull you into a side-hug and say, “You’re more of a friend to me than my own sister.”

Thinking about it still makes you cringe. You hate how weak you feel ruminating over this, trying to get over someone you were never even with.

It’s a Wednesday night two weeks into the spring semester, and you’re at the first home game you’ve been to in a while. Although you’ve always loved the loud, buzzing atmosphere of a hockey game, you’ve been staying far away from the campus arena and the man who hurt you.

You haven’t spoken to Beck. And he hasn’t reached out. What he did was an indirect rejection, his way of saying, It’s obvious that you like me and I need you to know once and for all that I don’t like you back.

Since then, every time your best friend has asked you to come to games or parties, you’ve told her you’ve been too busy, using your new position in a tutoring program as your excuse.

You prefer a distraction from Beck, and helping other students with a subject you’re passionate about has done the job.

But you can’t blow Lyla off forever, so now, you’re sitting with her in the stands among a small crowd of spectators.

The championship season begins in a month. Every seat will be full then. But you wish more people were around now. You welcome any noise to drown out your thoughts.

Everyone else cheers when Beck smashes the puck against the back of the net, securing the team’s first goal. You find it hard to join the celebration. Even though you’ve always thought of him as kind, you wonder if he could tell how much you liked him. If he consciously led you on.

For years, you’d watched him date other girls, hoping he’d finally realize you were the right one for him all along. You daydreamed far too much about him, imagining that he’d become your first boyfriend and take you on your first date and give you your first kiss.

The alarm blares to signal the end of the second period, pulling you out the haze you’ve fallen into a thousand times since that day in front of his exam room.

“You want to get some snacks?” Lyla asks.

“Sure,” you reply, doing your best impression of a girl with nothing weighing on her.

Once you walk up to the end of one of the arena’s concession stand lines, Lyla recognizes the people standing in front of you, greeting both girls with smiles and hugs.

Through introductions, you learn that Emma and Gabby are friends Lyla made at a party last semester. After some small talk as the line shuffles forward, Lyla points back to the rink.

“The seats next to us are empty if you want to sit with us,” she offers.

Emma and Gabby happily join you as you settle back in your seats soon after. You gaze ahead at the empty rink as they chat, the 3-1 score glaring above the ice in red neon numbers.

“No way the coach isn’t chewing them out right now,” Lyla says with a shake of her head.

“Why do you know on the team again?” Emma asks.

“My brother, Beck,” Lyla says. “You?”

Emma’s mouth twists into a tense smile.

“My ex,” she says, her voice lowering. “I wish he didn’t play, because I actually really love coming to these games.”

“Bad breakup?” you surmise.

“Brutal,” Gabby chimes in. You can tell by her expression that she’d supported her friend through the fallout.

“I just don’t want him to see me here and think it means something,” Emma sighs. “If he thinks that I want to get back together, it’ll be a disaster. We broke up a month ago and he’s still bothering me.”

You hardly know this girl, and you know her ex even less, but your reflex is to feel bad for him. You’re well acquainted with the pain that comes with caring about somebody who doesn’t want you.

“Oh, yeah,” Lyla remembers. “Rafe, right?”

Emma nods.

“Yikes.”

“Yeah,” Emma laughs.

The three girls share a knowing look, something unsaid passing through them.

You don’t know much about Rafe. On the rink, he’s a strong, aggressive defenseman, a sophomore who spends more time in the penalty box than any other player. You’ve seen him at a couple of parties, too, but never exchanged any words.

You don't understand the girls’ tense reactions to the mention of his name.

“What am I missing?” you half-whisper.

“You’d be missing nothing if you actually came to the parties I invite you to,” Lyla teases.

You can count on one hand how many parties you’ve been to since you started college. But it works for you. A party every few weeks is enough.

“I come when I can,” you reply, nudging her playfully. “Fill me in.”

“He’s a trainwreck,” Emma explains to you. “He has a million red flags that I ignored because I thought he was hot. Literally all we ever did was fight.”

“Yeah,” Lyla huffs, raising her brows. She looks at you. “Maybe it’s actually a good thing you don’t come to every party.”

You consider their words. They must have had a penchant for making a scene, shamelessly arguing in front of a crowd.

“I couldn’t take how mean and moody he was anymore. I dumped him and he won’t let it go.” Emma breathes a laugh. “It’s pathetic. He even called me crying the other night.”

Again, a confusing pang of sympathy for him hits you. It has to be your own heartbreak influencing you. You can’t imagine you’d normally feel bad for a guy described as having a million red flags.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“I’m over it,” Emma says carelessly.

“He’s not,” Gabby murmurs.

The players storm out on the rink again moments later, blades slicing the ice. They’re all so fast and powerful, and knowing that Rafe, the most forceful one of the group, is going through a version of the pain you are is oddly comforting.

A couple of minutes in, he gets thrown into the penalty box for charging an opponent. He skates to the opposite side of the rink, Cameron stitched across the black polyester of his jersey.

He stares at the floor as he waits out his penalty, tense, still. You think that if someone who looks so big and strong can hurt just like you, maybe you’re not as weak as you think.

════════

Rafe swings open the library entrance door with a scowl, irritated as hell that he has to be here. It’s annoying that the athletic department gives this much of a shit about players’ grades. Rafe knows he’s one of the best on the hockey team. He wishes that were enough.

Freshman year was fine, but he barely made it through last semester. He just failed his first assignment in a half-term literature course that was supposed to be an easy A.

Coach wasn’t pleased, saying it could screw up his GPA and deem him ineligible to play. Rafe tried to convince him that he’d do better on the next one, but Coach set him up with a tutor, unwilling to hear him out.

He’s already hardwired into a constant state of anger. Life has always been a storm, and now more than ever, there's no refuge in sight.

He's dealing with a coach who has no hope in him, on top of a painful breakup, on top of a shitty loss last night, on top of the fact that now he’s being forced to talk to a stranger about some boring book.

He can’t catch a break.

He looks at the email on his phone again. Study Room 205. He eventually finds the open door and taps his knuckles on it to get your attention.

You lock eyes with the person you’ve been waiting on for the last ten minutes. You had no idea who was coming up to meet you – just that the athletic department set it up.

But you know him. Or of him, at least.

A second ago, you were thinking about how you’ll have to ask whoever you’re meeting to be on time for future sessions. Now, your mind is consumed by the harsh words you heard about him last night.

“Hi,” you say politely. “Are you here for Lit Arts?”

He nods tersely in confirmation, stepping in. He drops his bag onto one of the empty chairs surrounding the square desk in the middle of the small room. You introduce yourself and when he sits down diagonally opposite to you, he murmurs, “Rafe.”

Discomfort swirls in your stomach. You’d heard something so personal about him at the rink, gazed at him in the penalty box from a distance, feeling like he’s a kindred spirit, and now you have to pretend like none of it happened.

“You’re on the hockey team, right?” you ask.

He realizes he’s seen you before. He can’t figure out where.

“Yeah.”

“I was at the game last night. Tough loss.”

Rafe doesn’t say anything. The clock ticks rhythmically. You clear your throat, figuring it’s best to skip the small talk.

“I took this class last semester. I know exactly how the prof grades, so you’re lucky to have me in your corner.”

Rafe is many things right now. Lucky isn’t one of them.

“Do you have your laptop?” you ask.

He unzips his bag and pulls out his computer.

“You can go to the course portal,” you tell him. He lets out an exhale as he navigates to the webpage. You lean closer to make sure that the class is currently on the book you brought with you.

You pull out your copy of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, page edges littered with different colored sticky tabs.

“Did you get a chance to start the book?” you ask.

He shakes his head. He’s not hiding that he really doesn’t want to be here. Nonetheless, you’re determined to crack him.

“Do you have a copy of it?”

“No.”

You nod slowly, picking up that he planned to coast through the class, not even bothering to buy and read any of the books.

“Do you like reading?” you ask.

“Nah,” he says with a grimace, as if he’s offended you’d assume that.

“You might like some of the books on the syllabus. This class is a lot of fun.”

“Fun,” he echoes with a stare that makes him look like he wants to bolt out of the door he just came through.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you reply with a smile. “Your idea of fun is skating around and getting slammed into walls. I should be the one judging you.”

He gazes at you like you’re from another planet, blue eyes hard on you. It’s nothing short of amusing.

You pull his laptop closer, hovering the cursor over the ‘My Grades’ tab, and ask, “Do you mind if I check how you did on your last assignment?”

“I bombed it,” he says.

As you gaze at the screen, Rafe clues in on where he’s seen you before. With one of the team’s freshmen.

Varsity athletes who live on campus are lumped together in the same dormitory block, and he’s seen you hanging around with Beck, going in and out of his room.

He wouldn’t consider Beck a friend. He’s a teammate and at best, an acquaintance. The guy’s a kiss-ass to Coach, and does everything by the book, skipping most parties and never drinking.

It makes complete sense that a rule-follower like Beck would date a good girl like you. Who the fuck calls a class fun?

You click to see his failing grade percentage for the first assignment of the semester in bolded red.

“Did you get any feedback on where you went wrong?” you ask. You know he’s going to shake his head before he does it. He doesn’t seem to care at all. “You have a whole semester to get your grade up. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not,” he replies stiffly.

“Well… maybe you should worry a little bit,” you say lightheartedly. “I know your coach is serious about grades.”

Rafe figures you must have heard that from your boyfriend. Maybe Beck took this class, too. It’s popular among busy student athletes because it’s supposed to be an easy way to fulfill a humanities credit.

He could just convince Beck to give him copies of his assignments. He’d have to change stuff around, but at least he’d get out of tutoring.

“Did you help Beck with this class?” he asks.

You’re taken aback by the sudden reminder of him, brows knitting together, a shift in your breezy demeanor.

“You’re his girl, right?” he says, as if it’s obvious.

“No. We’re– we’re friends.” You chew on your bottom lip. Tutoring is supposed to be a distraction from Beck, not the topic of conversation. But your curiosity burns in you and there’s no chance of putting it out. “Did he talk about me or something?”

“No,” he says, a bit too harshly for your liking. “I just figured ‘cause you’re with him all the time.”

“Right,” you say. All the time. Like a lost puppy, no doubt. Embarrassment pricks at your skin. “I helped him with another class. We’re friends.”

Rafe cracks his first smirk since he walked into this stuffy little room. You said friends twice, both times with uncertainty.

“You sure?” he chides.

“What?” you say stiffly. “Yes. I am.”

You crack open the book.

“So, A Portrait is about a man named Stephen who navigates the idea of identity,” you say quickly, trying to shake off your nerves. “We should look at the discussion question.”

You shut the book abruptly, then turn your attention to the laptop.

“You need to write a 1,500-word reflection for each book,” you ramble. “You’ll do better if you find a personal connection to the text. Maybe we start there.”

Rafe watches the nervous way your eyes dart around the screen as you scroll. His joke threw you into a tense, awkward panic that he has no interest in being around.

“You can relax,” he says. “I don’t care if you like him.”

You don’t look at him. You thought you were relaxed.

“Well, I don’t.”

You scroll to the question, one word in particular striking you.

What role does Emma play in Stephen’s growth and how he defines himself?

Of course. As if you needed another reason for this to be even more awkward.

Seeing Rafe’s ex’s name makes what she’d told you about him echo through your head again. Despite his teasing, the sympathy you felt for him comes back tenfold.

You know things about him that you shouldn’t. You feel a responsibility to balance the scales, but the air is too tense, the unfamiliarity too uncomfortable.

“Did you take a look at the question?” you ask.

He shakes his head, still slouched back. At this point, his apathy is starting to get to you.

“Listen, I can tell you don’t want to be here, but could you please try to meet me in the middle?” you say.

Rafe’s lips pull into a firm line, but he relents and leans closer to look at the screen. His body goes cold when he sees her name. He’d rather not be reminded of the girl who broke his heart right now.

“Emma is Stephen’s love interest,” you begin, trying to act like you don’t know a thing about his past relationship. “He sees her as something she’s not.”

You leaf through the book, finding a note you’d written in the margin.

“She represents idealization,” you read. You look up at him again. “Stephen sees by the end that she’s just a normal person, not this perfect girl he thought she was for so many years.”

You open a blank document on his laptop.

“We can write up some notes to start us off,” you say. “This prof grades high when you relate to the text. He likes the sentimental stuff, so until you read the book, that’s what we’ll have to work on.”

You chew on your lip again, unsure if you should bring up what you heard in the stands. It feels unethical either way.

“It doesn’t have to be a person,” you say. “It could be a place or an experience. Have you ever thought something was great and then realized it wasn’t?”

Rafe’s stomach is in a knot. The thought of being tutored and having his hand held through a class was bad enough. Now he has to get into his feelings with you?

“I don’t know,” he says.

You look at the blinking cursor, your head cocked in thought.

“Maybe relating it to a person would be easier, then?” you ask.

Nothing can make this easier. Rafe rakes his hair back, gazing down at your hands stalled over his keyboard.

“I get that this is awkward,” you say. “But it doesn’t have to be anything super personal. You could even make something up if you want.”

He only purses his lips, eyes fixed on your hands, as if he hopes you’ll give in and just do his work for him.

You take a deep breath and interlace your fingers on the desk. You figure that if you’re a little vulnerable, he might be, too.

He’s unknowingly feeling the same pain you are and saying the truth out loud to someone who gets it might even be a relief. There’s a risk of it getting back to Beck, but something tells you Rafe’s not much of a gossiper anyway.

“To be honest, yes, I like Beck. I thought he felt the same, but he doesn’t. Between you and me, sometimes I think he took me for granted and led me on. I idealized a friendship and it ended up hurting me. If this were my assignment, I’d relate to the book with that.”

Rafe is thrown off by your sudden honesty. It’s actually refreshing, considering all the bullshit he’s been dealing with lately.

He looks at you wordlessly.

“It’s just an example,” you say with a soft chuckle. “I did well in this class because I found pieces of myself in every book. All you need to do is read the material, find something you can relate to, write a decent report, and you’ll get a good grade. Well, that and prepare for the midterm and the final.”

“This class was supposed to be easy,” he finally says under his breath.

“Can you let me know when you’re going to be done complaining?” you ask playfully, looking up at the clock. “It’s been five minutes and you’re still going.”

Rafe huffs an almost-laugh. He adjusts his posture again, pulling at the collar of his hoodie.

“You really don’t have to be specific,” you reassure him. You tap your fingers over the keyboard again, just light enough to not press any buttons. “If you can relate the character of Emma to someone, you don’t have to say their name.”

Your eyes stay glued to the screen, your shoulders stiff as you wait. You’re acting weird again. The way you said Emma’s name looked like it pained you.

And it dawns on him.

“Should’ve known she’d talk shit,” he realizes. “What’d she tell you?”

“What?” you say, meeting his gaze.

“What did Emma say about me?” Rafe drawls, his deep voice reverberating through you.

Your lips part, but words refuse to form. For a guy that doesn’t like to read, he’s very good at doing it to you.

Rafe leans forward and rests his elbows on the desk. You can now see what makes him so intimidating on the ice. Every edge of his face is sharp now, apathy replaced with intensity.

“Nothing,” you reply. “It’s not my business.”

How did he not clue in before? If you run in the hockey team’s social circle, of course you heard about their breakup.

Emma never cared to keep things private. And you’re so willing to share your own personal stuff because you know more about him than you’re letting on. Because you pity him.

“Come on,” he scoffs, frustrated.

“I met her at the rink last night. She just mentioned you used to date.”

He shrugs impatiently, a silent request that you keep talking. You sigh.

“She said she likes coming to games, but it’s hard to because her ex is on the team.” You grimace. There’s no way you’d actually tell him all of it, all of the insults she muttered. “It’s not worth repeating, but… basically, she told me she broke things off and you won’t move on.”

Rafe nods, lips twisting. The way she’s been ignoring his texts and his calls to try to fix things stung enough. Talking to strangers to embarrass him hurts on an entirely different level.

He didn’t know Emma could be this cruel. This is mortifying. He’s done trying to make things work with her. No matter how hard the loneliness is hitting him.

You slide the book across the desk towards him, desperate to move past the tension.

“You can start reading,” you say. “And you don’t have to buy any of the books. I’ll just lend you mine. I’ll get some notes down for you to work from and you can do the personal connection part on your own.”

You start to type and immediately wonder if he’ll drop the class. You’ve never had that happen with someone you tutored before, but you wouldn’t blame him.

It must feel crappy to hear from a girl you don’t even know that your ex is saying bad things about you. A girl that you have to see every Thursday afternoon for the next three months.

Rafe cracks open the book in the middle to fan through the pages, a weight sitting on his chest. The pages are worn, words underlined, notes scribbled in the margins.

“You put this through the washing machine or something?” he murmurs.

“I’ve read it a few times,” you say simply. You keep typing.

Emma said he’d called her crying. It’s hard to imagine the man sitting next to you crying. It’s weird knowing something about someone that they wouldn't want you to know.

Rafe’s already bored with the first sentence. It’s long and confusing and completely uninteresting. His eyes drift up, absorbing the way your face softly creases in concentration as you type.

Now that you’re not talking at a thousand words a second, he can actually take you in.

You’re the type of girl he’d approach at a party. There’s no doubt about that. But once you’d start yapping about reading like you just did, about finding pieces of yourself in a book, he’d find a way out of the conversation.

Playing hockey at the college level is demanding; he likes the other things in his life to be fun and easy. Keeping up with a girl like you and pretending he’s interested in whatever you’re rambling about would be neither.

As he studies you, he doesn’t get why Beck friendzoned you. You’re pretty. And you’re the same type of person as Beck: straight-edge and so cheerful it’s annoying.

Rafe is typically one to outright say what he’s thinking, but he has the restraint to keep the idea he just had to himself. He needs to sleep on it. He’s done some crazy shit since Emma broke his heart and he’d rather not add to the tally.

You notice him looking at you in your peripheral vision.

“You’re not thinking of dropping the class, are you?” you ask.

“No,” he says. His eyes stay on you for another beat, then find the words on the page again.

════════

You thought Rafe came to your first session in a bad mood. Compared to how you feel right now, he was peachy.

Lyla called you on your way to the library and mentioned in passing that her brother asked about you last night. She said Beck seemed like he missed you, all sympathetic when he asked, is she doing okay?

She’s oblivious to the real reason he brought it up. And it’s irritating. Because he doesn’t even ask you himself. Because he’s right. He knows that his passive rejection left a wound.

“You’re on time,” you say in surprise when Rafe saunters into the study room.

“You talk a lot,” he mumbles. “I’m not interested in a lecture after you told me not to be late.”

Despite your bad mood, you crack an amused smile. You’d ended last week’s session telling him that tardiness was not only disrespectful to you, but to his own academic success. He rolled his eyes, but he clearly listened.

Rafe settles in the same chair as last time, holding your copy of the book he was supposed to read.

“Did you read it?”

“Mostly.”

“What’d you think?” you say with hope.

“Boring.”

“Fair,” you say. You gesture for his laptop. “Let’s see how far you got on the report.”

Your brows drop in disappointment when you see how much he added to the file. It’s a bunch of pasted summaries and disorganized thoughts, taking up only half the page.

You eventually reach the end of your hour-long session and have him read over the assignment one last time before submitting it. You check the syllabus to confirm what the next book is, then shut his computer.

“Try to have more for us to work with next time,” you tell him. “And you should have the next book totally read by then, too, okay?”

You hand him your copy of Pride and Prejudice and push your seat back, ignoring his frustrated sigh.

“You talk to Beck lately?” he asks after a beat.

“What?” you say, face screwing up. You’re reminded all over again of what Lyla said. “No. Why?”

“You’re still pissed at him,” he says. He’s confident, coming to the conclusion himself instead of waiting for you to admit it.

“Why are you talking about this? We had a perfectly nice hour together,” you try to joke.

Rafe finally gives a voice to what’s been swirling in his mind since last week. He’s used to being mad, to feeling spiteful, but the way his ex broke his heart has never made him want revenge more. He wants to hurt her as badly as she hurt him. He wants to make her regret leaving him.

“We should get back at them,” he says.

“I’m sorry?” you say, your chin dipping as you stare at him.

“Hear me out,” he tells you. “We’re going to keep seeing Beck and Emma around, right? We could make it look like we’re better off without them. Make them jealous.”

You squint, waiting for the details. Rafe draws in a sharp inhale.

“She said I’m not over her, right? And you said he took you for granted. If they think we moved on, I bet at least one of ‘em will realize they fucked up.”

You consider it. Admittedly, making Beck think you’re perfectly fine – no, thriving – after his rejection is enticing.

“Okay, how do we get back at them exactly?” you ask.

Rafe scratches the back of his neck. It’s the first time he seems kind of nervous to you.

“We pretend we’re together,” he says.

“You and…” You look over your shoulder, because he must be talking to somebody else who snuck into the room at some point. “You and me? Together together?”

“I know. It wouldn’t ever happen.”

You can’t even be offended. He’s right. He’s a skilled hockey player and undeniably good-looking, but that’s where the compliments end.

Two afternoons of working together and making small talk have shown you that you have nothing in common. And frankly, while you do laugh off his bad attitude, it gets on your nerves.

A relationship would never work, let alone even begin.

“But they don’t know that,” he continues. “All they’ll see is that someone they lost is happy without them.”

Your mind starts racing. The years of pining over Beck, the pain of his rejection, the frustration over him asking his sister how you’re holding up. They’ve all left cracks in your heart.

The more Rafe thinks about rubbing his happiness into Emma’s face, even if it’s bullshit, the more he hopes you’ll be on board. But you’re not saying a word.

“If you’re not in, fine,” he sighs, pushing his chair back to start to leave. He should have figured you’d be too uptight to do it. “I’m just saying I bet you wouldn’t hate making Beck sweat.”

He stands up, but you hear yourself say, “Wait.”

Then you hold out your hand.

Rafe breathes an amused chuckle, flashing the first sincere smile you’ve seen on his face, when he realizes what you’re doing.

Your hand slips into his, touching for the first time to seal the deal and shake on it.

“This is insane,” you say. “Count me in.”

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aceofspades-11b · 1 year ago

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WE COOKED IN CHEM LAB TODAY AJCBWJBVEWJBVLKJWBVLKWV LKWVLKWN VLKWV

major missing @ozziesdisco

#prolly one of the best lab sessions maybe like ever #literally snape's potions class vibes were there ngl #shanks brewed something particularly nasty and in a surprising turn of events tried to make me eat/drink it #it's usually me wanting to try various stuff and her just stopping me #but aaj to #turntables #based on my observations I think she managed to make a barely passable draught of the living dead #in her defense tho she was never formally trained as a witch #or was she.......#also we played holi #bc hogyi aaj college vali holi #noobs use gulal while legends make do with nitrate and aniline #cause the ice war apparently wasn't enough so had a bloodbath today #we were short on ice today so #literally the dye was bright orange/red based on how well you did the denitrization #it was funnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

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hoshigray · 1 year ago

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𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : The start of the spring semester is supposed to be fresh and new, not be cramped up in a closet with your frenemy at a party! And what's worse: you actually like the feeling of his lips on yours!?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied that reader is a virgin - first kiss - awakening feelings - virginity loss - kissing/making out in a closet - thigh riding - grinding/humping - sex in shared rooms; college dorms (empty) - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - orgasm denial- clitoral play (sucking, pinching and swiping) - missionary position - protected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, gorgeous, pretty, princess, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Geto, Shoko and Mei Mei - humor bc I'm [not] funny - mention of vaginal pain, spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (i'm so sick...)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: yessirrrr let's get this party started, shall we? >:333 plz enjoy the first part of this series!! and tysm for 5.3k !!! y'all are too kind && happy bday to my gal, jazzy!! hope you enjoyed your special day, jazzy jam c:

❤︎ « next story

“GO FUCK YOURSELF, SATORU GOJO!”

“BETTER THAN FUCKING YOU, Y/N L/N!”

“They’re at it again already, huh?”

“Yeah, man, it’s going to two o’clock. Might as well enjoy the show.”

College is hard enough as is. The fact that you’re now back for the spring semester is tiring enough, wanting to get these classes over with and wrap this up. Spring, Easter, and Summer break are just right around the corner, the cherry on top for this exhausting second half of your junior year. Those are the end goals!

But alas, the semester just started. The students scramble around buying their textbooks and switching courses around, struggling to make final move-in decisions and already stressing over seasonal depression at this time of year. Spring semester, huh? Same old, same old.

Although there are negatives that make it nerve-racking, there are still good things that come with this junior year. Finally over with winter break, you’re excited to be back to living with your roommates, Utahime, Mei Mei, and Shoko! They’re your girlfriends for a reason; missing hanging and stressing with them as they made your college experience much better than you expected.

And it doesn’t end there, either! You missed study sessions at the campus café with your second-year peers, Yu Haibara and Kento Nanami. The two best friends always help with your studies whenever you need it. And, of course, you can’t forget about their roommate and your friend, Geto. The tall, raven-haired Biology major is always looking out for you and paying visits to study with Shoko. There was even a time he helped with a mouse situation in your dorm! Poor Utahime that day – saw the rodent when she came out of the shower.

However, you’re not exactly thrilled to see everyone after coming back. You throwing a middle finger at someone on the opposite side of the pathway should be evidence of such. “Oh, go jump off a cliff, Gojo!”

“Hah! I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction!” Satoru Gojo was the direct roommate of Suguru Geto, best friend of his and Shoko, and was the star player of the campus basketball team. But most of all, he’s the kid you despise with every fiber of your being. “I’d be more entertained with you slipping on some ice.”

“Oh, you wish! I saw you slip on some ice yesterday on your way to Professor Yaga’s class.” You puff your chest with pride when you see the white-haired guy suck his teeth in annoyance. “Made my whole day, what a fucking moron. How about slowing down next time? You were late anyway!”

Snowy brows furrow with a scoff. “God, you really are a perfect roommate for Utahime; the both of you are so tiny and angry at the world around you for no reason.”

Utahime, standing beside you during this yelling competition, decides to chip in after that remark. She almost popped a vein, “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY, SATORU!?”

“You heard me!” He barks a laugh at the two of you, turning around to go on his way. “Heard it’s gonna snow later tonight. Be sure to find a nice, big, puffy jacket and some boots so the storm doesn’t sweep you away, Y/n~.”

“I’ll be sure to shove an icicle up your ass before that, you fucker!” You turn on your heel and stomp your way out of the scene, Utahime following your move. “Hmph! Hate his ass so much…”

“Tch, right there with you.” Your roommate sighs heavily to exude the aggression. “But damn, the way you two go at it is worse than mine.”

She is not wrong; it’s true – everyone within the campus grounds knows how much you and Gojo can’t stand each other. It’s no secret; at least you two make that apparent everywhere you go. This little feud between you started freshman year with you two in the same first-year engagement program. Tiny disagreements turned into narrowed glares, which then pivoted into prominent arguments, and now here we are.

You hoped that freshman year would be the last you’d ever see of that snow-haired prude. Unfortunately, you were wrong. The year after, you were unhappy to discover he’s best buds and roomies with Geto. And what’s worse is that you were ill-fated to share a class with him every semester — especially this one with Professor Naga for Contemporary Issues. Is this the universe’s way of punishing you for something? For what!??

You’ve been a good kid, doing what you can and getting the grades that brought you merit and accolades. So, you don’t get how this one guy with his stupid round sunglasses is getting under your skin. So fucking annoying…

You hate him. You hate everything about him. From the way he immediately gives you a smug look when you walk into the room and take your seat right in front of him. The way he surprises you from behind because he finds your reactions amusing. The way he relentlessly calls your name to get your attention when you’re obviously ignoring him, even when he doesn’t need you for something.

It all makes you heated. You hate Satoru Gojo. I hate him so much!

“…hear me?…Y/n?”

You blink, realizing you were too deep in thought for your ears to pick up Utahime calling out for you. “Hmm? What’s up?”

She pulls out the keys to the dorm from her coat. “So? You coming along?”

Huh? “Where are you going?”

“To Haibara’s get-together?”

Oh, hell no! “No, Uta. I think I’ll stay here.”

The dark-haired girl watches you walk past her when she opens the door. “Why?? It’s the first Friday night of the semester; it’s not gonna be a big party or anything. Just close friends.”

“What are we talking about?” Shoko chimes in after leaving the bathroom, brushing her teeth with sleepy eyes. “Haibara’s thing tonight?”

Utahime nods hurriedly at the drowsy nursing student. “I’m trying to convince Y/n to come!”

The brunette shrugs at the comment, following you two to your room. “Well, it’s not like I’m going either.” She snickers when the eldest dark-haired roommate turns to her with a hurt expression. “Sorry. I already have notes I need to get behind on. You can tell the guys I said hi, though.”

Another sigh leaves Utahime as she puts her bag on her desk. “…Mei Meiiiii,”

“Yesss~?” The fourth roommate calls out from the hallway.

“Are you going?”

“Mmmm, not sure.” Mei Mei comes to the doorframe, her long silverish-blue hair done in pigtails with a green skin-care mask covering her face. “Got a meeting for my club to head to later. And even then, it might still be a while for me to join, depending on if people are hanging out afterward.”

Now is when the Utahime whines to her hands before she turns back to you, sitting on your bed. “Y/n, please, come with me!”

You don’t give in to her cries. “No, think I’ll stay and keep Shoko company.”

But she doesn’t give up. “Please! It’s just a small group of friends and maybe a few classmates Haibara’s familiar with. No biggie!”

“Small group of friends, huh?”

“Yes!”

“You know who else are his friends?” You lift a brow when she does the same. “His roommates: Nanami, Geto, and—“

“Gojo…” Utahime completes your sentence in defeat, understanding why your reluctance is present.

“Sorry, Uta. Maybe next time.”

Now, you’re not saying you’ve never been to the guys’ place before; they reside on the other side of campus where senior housing is (Nanami’s pick because he’s an RA). However, it’s the first Friday night of the semester. Meaning it’s the first free weekend for most students. And you’re going to ruin everyone’s fun by being in the same place as Gojo? Yeah, no thanks.

That is until Mei Mei says, “Actually, I heard from a friend that the basketball team are planning on going out somewhere tonight.”

Shoko adds on while taking out her toothbrush to appropriately speak to her friends. “Yeah, now that you mention it, Gojo told me he probably won’t be at the place in the first place. Something about meeting up with a group for one of his classes.”

All separate reasons from different accounts, yet that only fuels Utahime to beam out of her mini-depression and face you once more. “See? Gojo won’t be there by the time we get there! He’ll be busy with a group project – or whatever – and will hang with his sports buddies. So, you up for it now?”

Your brows trench down. “I…I don’t know—“

If there’s one thing the oldest roommate is good at, it’s not giving up. And it’s because she bats her pretty brown eyes and gives you the most grandiose pleading puppy face she can. It’s the oldest manipulation tactic in the book, yet it works by making your heart cringe.

Of all things to be dragged into now, it was a party? The semester just started, and you haven’t even touched a single piece of reading yet. Is this a good idea? You can’t really go based on the perspective of your roommates because what’ll happen on the off-chance you do see Gojo? The thought of it is already headache-inducing.

Then again, it’s the first time since last semester that you’ll be able to see the other guys. You didn’t say goodbye to Geto and Haibara before break because they were swarmed with finals, and Nanami was gone the moment he found out all his exams were take-home. You’re not much for parties, to be quite honest. Regardless, it would be nice to catch up on the gang and see how they’re doing before we all revert to non-stress-free college life.

You release a sigh through your nostrils before making your decision begrudgingly. “...Don’t make me regret this.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I regret this so fucking much…

Well, this night was going to be quite a drag. Why? Let’s go over the reasons, shall we?

The party that was supposedly at Haibara’s dorm? So, it turns out, there was a change of plans, and to be relocated somewhere else — like outside campus grounds. Screw walking, you and Utahime had to go by car with Geto to go to the party, following down the main street into this big, beautiful neighborhood and parking by a big house. Perfect for housing an event for many people to drink, dance, and vibe.

Oh yeah, that was another thing, too; the many that were attending this fucking party. Word got out about the get-together, so, of course, lots of people wanted to come and celebrate the first weekend. So, not only are you outside campus grounds, but now you’re forced to interact with a crowd rather than a small group of people. You practically have been to every corner of the place to disassociate with people you didn’t know.

So, where are you now? Upstairs in one of the bedrooms, where the bass of the speakers downstairs can be heard. You’re not alone — sitting in a circle with Utahime, Geto, and a couple of other kids who’re present at your university. What’s happening in the room? Just a chill game of truth, drink, or seven minutes in heaven; either you answer truthfully to a question, drink to avoid it, or go to the closet and do what you want with the person who spun the bottle on you.

But, there was nothing chill about the game, and the players would agree to that notion apprehensively. Because you most definitely silently dreaded every second of this entire night. Why? How about asking the person across you that you’ve been glaring at since you opened the bedroom door and saw his face?

Apparently, as word got out about the party, the college basketball team heard about it and decided to come and celebrate. Meaning the whole team is at this party. Let’s say that again: the entire basketball team – all the players – are here to enjoy the party.

The person who stood across from you sat criss-cross with long, jean-covered legs, leaning with his hands behind him, a navy blue sweatshirt, and dark round shades that cover his eyes that you know are looking dead at you. And a smug grin that patronizes you to the core.

You peer to your night, giving Utahime the nastiest look you can. And the eldest could only meekly mumble an “I’m sorry…” with twiddled thumbs.

Satoru Gojo looked at you, and you frowned right back at him. The tense atmosphere between you two was enough to suffocate the other players. Some would try to break the tension by playing the game. But even then, it was still strenuous. One girl rolled the bottle on Geto, to which he picked “truth” and answered her question: “How did you and Gojo meet?”

Even though he didn’t pick the option, he’d take a small swig of his beer. “Satoru and I have been friends since middle school — same with my other bud, Shoko. We’ve been inseparable since, and now we’re here. He can be an asshole, though, so watch out.”

A guy spun the bottle on Utahime and asked, “Were you ever interested in Gojo?” The raven-haired girl clicked her teeth and took a chug, drinking the whole thing in one sig.

“Hmph! I’d rather drink sweat from Professor Gakunaji’s crusty beard and eyebrows!” She’d admit after a burp.

“Ahaha! That’s a sight I’d like to see,” Gojo would chuckle at her insult, prompting a few around him to laugh. “Bet you’d get more satisfaction from it than being with me anyway.”

The senior rolls her eyes before opening another bottle. “Fucking bastard…”

Another spin to the bottle after a couple comes out of the closet all close and giggly. This time, it lands on you. Some bubbly girl who had her eyes all up on Gojo, her nipple piercings able to be seen from her crop tee, was the one who spun it. She asks you, “Y/n, could you please tell me why you hate Satoru so much?”

You couldn’t fight the twitch of your eye. Of fucking course. You’re in no mood to drink, and you barely know this girl to think of being in the closet with her. You exhale through your nostrils, “….We’re friends, to an extent.”

“To an extent?” She asked more questions with a naive tone. “But Satoru's so nice, no?”

Oh, drop it, will you? And why are you referring to him by his first name like you know him? “We’re—“

“They mean that we’re kinda friends, kinda not.” Of course, nothing can be to yourself because the white-haired nuisance went ahead and answered your question. “They’re friends with my roomies, and my friends are their roomies. So, I guess that makes us friends by association. At least that’s the only way to see it since we nearly argued our heads off freshman year.”

You scoff with narrowed eyes, “By association, huh.”

He quirks a brow up. “Mhmm.”

Good God, the more you two throw invisible daggers at each other, the more uncomfortable people feel being in this room. Oh, but don’t worry; the night gets even worse. Three turns later, it was your turn to spin the bottle. And – sit with me here – just guess who it lands on? Bingo! Satoru Gojo.

The hushed gasps that filled the room were telling; it was bound to happen, but no one thought it would happen. The star-crossed haters spun the bottle and landed on each other. And since Gojo doesn’t drink (and he finds the questions rather lackluster), he chooses the closet. The gasps were louder that time, and your blood began to boil.

The first time it happened was uneventful; it’s what you preferred. After the door closed, you told him, “Don’t even think about touching me.” It was just pure silence for the entire seven minutes. You sat on one side of the emptied closet while Gojo was on the other. There were the occasional sniffles of your nose and his loud yawns. But other than that, you two stayed at your respective sides of the closet. Seven minutes of no words, just keeping to yourself and watching the lava lamp in your corner be your light.

You two survived the first set of seven minutes, not a scratch on either of you, to everyone’s thankful stars. Keywords: first set. Because why wouldn’t there be more?

When it got to Gojo’s turn, he spun the bottle and got you! So, here you are, walking into the closet again with your notorious opp. You swore to God this had to be the universe’s way of toying with you as if the start of this semester wouldn’t be a handful to deal with already.

You’re back on your side of the closet, groaning at your hands. It’s okay, Y/n, calm down. You can sit through another seven minutes. You got this! Don’t even act like he’s there…

And so you compose yourself, watching the heated, yellow wax of the purple lava lamp prompt up to the top to cool and sink back down. Six minutes…Five…Four—

“So, let’s say, hypothetically,” your eyelids closed shut for your eyes to roll freely. “I asked for a little something-—“

“I guess I should’ve added no talking, too. Thought that was rather self-explanatory to you.” You shut him down quickly. “And I thought I said don’t even think of touching me.”

“Well, you’re not in control of my brain,” you don’t have to turn your head to know that the fucker is looking at you. “Besides, I did say hypothetically.”

This motherfucker… ”Well, then, I’d, hypothetically, break every single one of your fingers and give them to Mei Mei so she can sell them to all your fangirls.”

“Hah! Nice to know you see me of high value.” He shifts his feet around from their crisscrossed position. “Bet you’d keep one of them.”

You scoff. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself! I’m annoyed just from not looking at you; what the fuck would I need your stupid finger for.”

“Hmmm, I can think of many, like—“

“Do not finish that sentence, Gojo.” Your tone dialed lower; a warning. He notices it, bringing his hands up defensively.

“Jeez, lighten up, Y/n.” He says while leaning against the back wall. “With an attitude like that, no other guy or gal in that room will ever want to be in a closet with you.”

Oh, you don’t say, fuckface! “I barely want to be in this closet with you. Hell, I didn’t even want to be here! I only came for Utahime, assuming it would be a small party…How the hell did you even get here? I thought the basketball team was going out somewhere.“

“Awww, you spying on me, Y/n?” Oh, you hate his fucking snicker, shoving a middle finger in his direction. “We were supposed to be at some restaurant joint, but a few of the crew flunked out on us and said they’d go to some ‘big party,’ then everyone wanted to go, and now we’re here. You know I don’t like alcohol, but I just tagged along because Suguru was here. I didn’t know about you, though.”

You bring your hands to your face to sigh in private. “We gotta stop meeting like this…It’s like I can never escape you.”

“…Is that a bad thing?”

You open your mouth to refute, but no words leave….Huh?

That was…..odd. Why did he ask that question like that: you couldn’t detect a remnant of childish malice he’d been throwing at you back and forth. Even when you faced him, his face was straight ahead. But when you don’t answer, his left eye goes to his peripheral to glimpse at you.

What the…Is he being genuine right now?

You gaze at him briefly before turning away, “I….I don’t know.” He hums to your response. “….Do you think so?”

Gojo shrugs. “Can’t say so either.” You hum back, and the silence takes over once again.

Okay, now things are even more awkward. You came into this closet with irritation, yet somehow, it vanished into thin air. It was the one thing that’s been constant throughout this evening. Now that it’s gone, you can only replay the moment from a few seconds ago in your head.

Is it a bad thing? Why would he ask that? Of course, it’s a bad thing! Has he forgotten how much hostility we have for each other? Jesus Christ….Wait, why did he say he didn’t know either? What does that even mean!!??

“You look nice.”

You—……I’m sorry, what???

The way you snapped your head back to him, you could’ve sworn you heard your neck crack. Holy fuck, why the hell was he looking at you right now? His round glasses shine from the lava lamp, so you can’t see his eyes.

“Wh….What?” It was cold; the weather app said it would snow later tonight. Therefore, the temperatures and winds were unforgiving after sunset. So you took it upon yourself to dress warmly. It was all simple, just a white, long-sleeved halter blouse that matched your black skirt – it was the only nice thing you had outside of regular leggings. And you covered your legs with black pantyhoses but decorated with cute white knitted leg warmers.

He repeated in a singing tune. “You look nice.”

When it came to the white-haired guy in this closet with you, there were rare moments where you felt as though you were shocked by him. This was beyond astounding, the comment continuing to ring throughout your ears.

You blinked at him before averting your eyes down to your hands, trying to distract the increase of heat on your cheeks by intertwining your fingers together. “….Thank you, Gojo.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he’d shrug again, chuckling to himself before adding on. “It’s way better than your other outfits. Baggy old sweatshirts, bags under your eyes even if you’re wearing glasses, sweatpants with stains. You look like a homeless librarian.”

Annnnnd just like that, with the drop of your quivering lip, all the warm feelings you felt for a minute evaporated in seconds. The anger returned with the twitch of a brow. “…Tch, gee, thanks. I can’t say the same for you.”

“Oh, you know you look cute when you’re jealous~.”

You almost busted a nerve. Who the hell are you calling, cute? “As if. From the sound of it, you must be jealous of me; who told you to be looking and criticizing what I wear? Must be rough not being able to wear comfortable clothes all the time, huh?”

“Shut the hell up,” he finally snaps, and you stick your tongue out in victory.

“No, I’ll keep going! I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect, but not everyone wants to put on their best outfits to impress you, not like your fangirls who get their best bras to push up their breasts for you to notice.”

“Huh, you lookin’ at other girls' boobies? Wow, Y/n, never took you as a pervert.” He laughs at your stare of pure anger. “You are jealous, huh? That I’m talking at other girls and not you? Awww, don’t be so selfish; there’s plenty of me to go around!”

You snarl at him. “Ugh, you’re so gross! I don’t want anything to deal with you. So all those girls can have you and rip you to shreds for all I care. Let them know how much of a big fucking baby the wonderful, amazing Satoru Gojo is when he drops his ice cream on the floor and cries on Geto’s shoulders. Or that you’re such a lightweight that you accidentally vomited in Nanami’s cup one time, which he threw at you...Or maybe I should tell them.”

His brows furrow, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would, and then some.” You sneer. “In fact, I’ll go downstairs, grab that red punch, and spill it right on you in front of that girl next to you. I’ll make your hair look like strawberry shaved ice.”

He leans his cheek against his fist with a huff. “I take it back; you don’t look nice at all. So uncute.”

You gasped with trenched brows. “Excuse me!?”

“You heard me, you’re uncute!” Yup, today was the day: you’re going to choke the hell out of this motherfucker. “I feel bad for any guy who'd wound up in this closet with you, dealing with such a little devil.”

“You’re one to talk, dickhead! I’d much rather be stuck in this closet with anyone else — even Geto!”

“Taah, as if! I bet you never even had your first kiss with such an attitude like that.”

Again, you open your mouth to say something, yet words evade you at that very moment. And Gojo catches it quickly. Because his brows raise, lifting his head back up, eyes scanning your face.

Oh fuck.

“...”

Don’t.

“….Y/n,”

Don’t say it.

“You never had your first ki—“

BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!

He couldn’t finish that sentence, thank God, because the phone alarm from the outside rang. Seven minutes are up — this session is up, so you quickly stood up and opened the closet door.

With swift feet, you sit back next to Utahime, your eyes downcast to the bottle, avoiding Gojo’s feet coming around and taking his spot across from you. Your roommate perks at your silence, “You okay, Y/n?”

A nod is offered to her, “Yeah, I’m fine.” No, you weren’t. Your heart was pounding like crazy, your skin dropping in color. And you can feel the eyeballs from across boring into your being. “Let’s just keep playing.”

And so the game carried on from Gojo’s turn. Your eyes could only ever look at the bottle, hoping it would never land on you from there on out. But that would be the easy way out, and – as life is – nothing goes your way when you want it to be.

Because when it gets to your turn, you watch with patient eyes as the glass spins on the cold hardwood floor. One spin goes by, and another swings around. Finally, it stops, the neck of the bottle pointing vertically from you, and your whole figure washes in apprehension with the hushed sounds of exclamation of the other people in the room.

Alas, the bottle pointed to Gojo. It was inevitable – you couldn’t avoid his presence since the last session anymore. You look at him, your brows scrunched with mercy. But he points to the closet with his chin, and you follow his lead to the small space with anxiousness at every step.

Back to your respective stations in the closet. You can only use the mesmerizing wax of the lava lamp as a sort of comfort – a distraction for your nerves that are at an all-time high. Why were you so nervous? All he did was ask if you ever had your first kiss taken.

Yeah, that’s the problem! Why did he have to know that!? Ughhhh, I should’ve just lied or something…Now what? Will he make fun of me for not having my first kiss taken yet? What is this, middle school!?? The thoughts in your head were a battle to deal with, one personal worry after another.

But all that washes away when the silver-haired guy finally breaks the quiet after a minute. “…Wanna kiss me?”

It felt like your heart dropped at that abrupt question; the warm circulation coursing through your body transitioned to an ice-cold sensation. Your breathing stops, and your eyes shoot wide at the person you’re with. “….Wha….What did you say?”

He doesn’t hesitate at your request. “Wanna kiss?”

Have….Have you lost—“your mind!? Why would you ask me that??” You whisper yelled at him so the people outside don’t hear you.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Why not?”

Why not?!? “Gojo, you can’t be serious. Just because I never had my first kiss doesn’t mean I need it to happen this instant! Are you that much of a horndog that you’d ask—“

“Let me explain, alright!?” He yells in whispers back with a hand raised to stop your rambling, and you hold your tongue. “Listen, I’m not asking to be a dick, okay? I just thought that…ya know, being in a place full of strangers, someone’s bound to be in this closet with you and ask you for a kiss.”

Your face screws to a magnificent expression of confusion you could ever contour. “Why are you concerned about who I kiss? It’s not like I’d agree or—“

“Yeah, but like, what if they did, huh?” His sky-blue eyes peek from above his sunglasses. The sharpness they carried told you he was serious about this — like he was serious about you. That…That was so off of him. “What if some weirdo forces themselves on you, and me and Suguru can’t help you in time, huh? I can think of two guys in this room who’d probably do that.”

It takes a few seconds for you to soak in his words, “….So? What are you getting at?” He opens his mouth but stops from saying something, his pointer finger up but back to a fist. You could tell; whatever he was thinking had him in mental turbulence.

He releases a deep sigh before saying, “I’m just…I’m saying, wouldn’t it be better to have your first kiss with someone you know, at least?”

You couldn’t believe he was saying such things to you. “And…you think you’re the one I should….kiss?”

“….I don’t hear a no.”

You wanted to refute that statement — challenge him or prove him wrong! You looked at his face, examining every feature to find an indication that whatever he was saying was just a way to get under your skin. He loves to poke fun at you, so why wouldn’t he use this as a perfect opportunity?

However, you couldn’t find anything. His eyes were sincere, stationed right back on yours. You saw his Adam’s apple move from a gulp, letting you know that he was a little nervous, too. And your gaze drifted to his mouth, the thought of his lips being on yours staining your brain for the first time. It was scary to think about, your heart racing to no end.

“Y/n,” he said your name so quietly that you almost missed it. “Do you trust me?”

What an odd question to ask in this awkward atmosphere. Do you trust Satoru Gojo, the boy you would smack with a given chance? He’s undoubtedly the most annoying person you’ve ever bumped into — a thorn in your side since freshman year. He is such a tactless fool, doing and saying whatever he thinks comes to mind, picking on you like you were a child, and not taking you seriously when you wanted him to. You could list many things that you saw wrong with this guy.

Yet, he wasn’t the worst. There hasn’t been an instance where you felt uncomfortable around him, only annoyance. He was friends with Geto and Shoko; that alone should be enough to tell you he’s someone worth depending on. And even when you two would be tasked to do something together, you’d surely click your tongue and bicker until the cows came home. But at the end of the day, you still knew how to work with one another and get the job done.

In all things considered, Satoru Gojo was an irritant. Even so, he was an irritant you could depend on — to trust.

Breathing was a hard thing to do, taking in air and exhaling excruciatingly slow. You chew on your bottom lip and give him a curt nod. “I…I trust you, Gojo.”

He lets your answer sink in for a bit before he moves his position, his back to the wall while facing you, legs straight down to the ground. He pats on a thigh, “C’mere.”

Hesitance was there for a split second, but you followed his command and quietly maneuvered your way toward his direction, situating on top of his legs. Of course, you were anxious as hell; your ears and cheeks shared a warmth unbearable to host. Your figure being so close to his, you had to be dreaming.

But you weren’t. The hands he placed on your waist prove so, earning a gasp to leave you. His voice is low for just the two of you to hear. “Put your hands on my shoulders…Ya scared?” A slow nod is what you give him, and he chuckles lightly. “It’s okay. Try closing your eyes for me. Relax, I’m not gonna do anything dumb.”

He only said that because of that look you gave him. He is going to do something to you — just nothing too rash.

“Trust me, pretty.”

Pretty? Yes, he just called you pretty. You were used to him calling you dumb names to get you riled up, yet none nearly sweet and fitting the mood like this one. It made your heart skip a beat.

With that, you held back reluctance when closing your eyelids. It made you a little uneasy, unable to see him in front of you, what he was doing, what he looked like while having you on him like this.

Suddenly, you squeak when something softly presses down to your clavicle. It was his lips.

He snickers, “Ya know, I gotta admit.” He brings his mouth up your neck with kisses, your breath shaking with every peck, and your hands clinging onto his sweatshirt. “It’s kinda nice seeing you be all shy on top of me like this.”

“Go..jo...” you flinch at his soft kiss on your forehead, his hands rubbing your sides.

“Don’t do that. Call me by my first name.” You can feel him bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing your bottom lip gently with his thumb. “I know you know it. I wanna hear it with your voice.”

Holy fuck, this got intense way too fast. He brings his nose close to yours, and you shiver at the contact. It only means he’s mere centimeters away. Thank God your eyes were closed now because you swear you’d turn to stone if you snuck a peek.

“S..Sa…Toru—Mmmph!?“

And there it was, the inexorable. Gojo’s lips fleshed with yours softly, nothing too explicit or unpleasant for you. It was a simple kiss, yet it felt so foreign to you. Your first kiss had been with Satoru Gojo. What a momentous day.

It lasted a few seconds, your body stiff and hands balled to fists nonetheless. He removes from you with a soft noise between your lips, the heat from his face taken with him now that you have space to breathe. You open your eyes for him.

“There ya go,” he says with a small smile, stroking your cheek with his thumb while his forefinger plays with your earlobe. “Was it so bad?”You huffed, shaking your head no. Gojo hums, the hand on your waist gripping your flesh faintly. “….Can I kiss you again?”

Your breath hitched. It was a tiny request. One more wouldn’t hurt, right? You nod, closing your eyes again and awaiting his move.

Gojo leans in and claims your lips again, a soft hum from him when his face is back on yours. The next one was a little more risqué than the last, your bottom lip being taken by his playfully. The third kiss was where the mood dialed to a more wanton plane, him nibbling on your lip to allow him access. It’s here that Gojo can’t contain the reins, removing his glasses, “Come here, cutie.”

And you can’t help yourself either, succumbing to these smooches while wrapping your arms around his neck. Gojo’s no better, snaking his hand to the back of your neck and his other sneaking down to your butt.

You break the kiss to inquire, “Hahhh—…you pervert,” your eyes half-lidded.

He puffs a laugh, “Whaaat? I thought you’d like me to be touchy.”

You don’t admit anything to him, just slamming your face to his again. You decided to be a little adventurous and lick his lips. Gojo senses the initiative and takes your tongue to suck on. The whimper you let out was too cute, egging him on to suck and tease the muscle more.

It makes you dwell in the moment more, your limbs no longer stiff, yet your hips subtly move voluntarily. The friction from your groin rubbing on his jean-covered thigh was strangely enticing, your restraint becoming lesser the more you moved. And it gets worse after both Gojo’s hands creep into your skirt and tease your ass with squeezes.

“Ahhh, mmmm, Satoru..” you wailed.

“Relax, baby,” there it goes again, another cute pet name to call you. He really knew how to get you going. “Let me take care of you….Mmmm”

He shoves his tongue into your mouth – not too forceful to scare you, but enough to get that he is impatient. You moan to his mouth, a hand grabbing tuffs of his snowy hair.

His nose is pressed to your cheek like yours, and it’s getting harder to breathe now that things are getting intimate. But it all felt good, and the mood was just right. You rub your chasm onto his leg, which he lifts just a bit to make grazing your groin a little better. And God, the way his hands groped your butt, it turned you on even more.

Ohh fuck, tongues swirl around each other, your head begins to pound, and your ears ring from the heat on your face.. Oh, God, you could feel a hand come up to the top of your stocking, teasing its way down your skin and to the hem of your underwear. Please, please—

BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!

Even so, everything freezes in time, and both you and Gojo stop whatever you’re doing. Lips still on lips, your ass on his lap, and his middle and forefinger barely grazing the crack of your ass. It’s here that everything hits you all at once: you are not the only one here — you’re not even in your room! You’re still at the party you were dragged into, in some stranger’s bedroom closet, smooching with your supposed most hated person.

You immediately withdraw from him, Gojo removing his hands from you to put up defensively. Your hands rush to cover your lips, which are wet from spit. A thousand thoughts run around your head. Holy shit, what the hell was I doing!? Did I really just kiss Gojo? Satoru Gojo!? What was I thinking!!?

And Gojo didn’t say anything, only gauging your reaction to see what goes from here. The light from the lava lamp behind you is sheltered, your silhouette drawn to cover the guy in front of you.

I need to leave. That’s your final thought, taking an immediate stand and storming out of the closet. Utahime noticed you make a beeline to the door, and the roommate pursues right behind you down the stairs. She moves past drunk dudes to grab your wrist, “Y/n! What’s wrong – are you okay?”

It’s time to lie. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired, you know.” You lead her to the broom closet where all the initial guests’ jackets were stored. You grab for yours and put it on, “I think I’m just gonna call an Uber and head back to campus before the snowfall.”

Her face contorts to an expression of worry. “Are you sure? I’ll come with you; this place bugs any—“

“No, no. You don’t have to worry, Uta.” You place a hand on her shoulder before she can move another step.

“When you say it like that, I can’t help but worry.”

Your lips twinge to a smile to display faux comfort. “It’s okay, really. You don’t have to ruin your fun for me. Besides, I saw some underclassmen waiting to speak with you all night somewhere down here.”

Utahime doesn’t buy it, and you knew she doesn’t. But thankfully, she doesn’t try to fight with you and gives you the okay. She watches you open the door before leaving, “Make sure you call or text me when you get to our dorm!”

It made you laugh; the girl can be such an older sister. “Don’t worry, Shoko’s still there, remember? Cya later, have fun!”

“Bye, be careful!” A final warning to you before the roommate closes the door for you.

You spoke too soon. Now outside, snow was already falling to the ground, probably a few minutes earlier since it wasn’t sticking to the ground yet. The little cold flakes touching the skin of your face were almost remedial, evening out the warmth of your cheeks.

You use this moment to recuperate from what transpired in that house. It was so out of the ordinary and was completely weirding you out, but not in a terrible way. It was more like odd-ish, strange, downright out of the norm. The more you think about it, visiting back to the senses of your hands in his hair, his slender fingers teasing the flesh of your butt, and the pillowy sensation of his lips glued to yours while whispering sweet things…..

….Nope, the cold was not helping at all. There goes the warmness creeping back on your cheeks and ears. Let me hurry and get the fuck out of here, grabbing for your phone and unlocking it to find the Uber app.

“Y/n!”

But before your thumb could press on the application, you instinctively turned around to see the door was open again. And the person who called out to you had your breath come to a complete stop.

Gojo closed the door behind him, coming down the driveway while hurriedly putting on his grey Chesterfield coat. “Fuuuuuck, it got cold quick!”

“G–Gojo!” You stuttered when out by the time he could make it to you. “What’s up? What are you—“

“I saw you weren’t in the bedroom, and Suguru told me you headed downstairs. You could’ve told me you were leaving; that fox with bangs was giving me an earful,” he stuffs his hands in his pockets and then curses. “Fuck, I should’ve checked for my gloves before I left….Anyway, where are you heading off to?”

You were a little taken aback. “Uhhh, back to the dorms?”

“Great!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and walks with you down the road. “My car’s over there; let’s hurry before we freeze to death.”

Huh? “Hurry where??”

“Huh? We’re going back to campus, no?”

We!? “Together!?”

“Yeah?”

“Gojo, please!” You promptly removed yourself away from Gojo, standing in front of him. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being all nice now?”

He shrugged “Ehhhh? Are friends not supposed to give friends rides back home?”

“No, not us! We aren’t friends; we’re friends to an extent, remember!?”

“Ahhh, stop being a baby. You act as if you’ve never been in my car before.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, but not when I’m alone with you, dummy! “C’mon, it’s gonna get colder with this snow.”

“Okay, just—Stop!” Your hands go up to prevent him from getting any closer to you. He stops, the fallen flakes camouflaging with his hair. “Gojo….you understand what just happened back there, right?”

He doesn’t say anything, only a single nod.

“So, you know that my mind is going at like a hundred miles per hour right now.”

“….Yeah.”

“Okay….So, just please…I need a minute.” Your face goes to your feet to divert your thoughts elsewhere because you don’t know if you could handle looking at the white-haired man for a mere second.

Gojo looks at you mumble to yourself, avoiding him. He releases a deep sigh, walking towards you and lifting a side of his coat to shield you two from the windows of the house party. “…You’re doing it again.”

His shoes come to your direct line of sight, your heart pounding even more. “…Doing what?”

“The thing where you push people out whenever you feel overwhelmed.” You flinch when his finger grazes the back of your palm. “Don’t do that, not right now. I want you to talk to me.”

What is there to talk about? You could’ve said that to throw him off — be avoidant to this whole conversation. But it’s futile after he brings your chin up to face him.

“Did I make you uncomfortable back there?”

“….No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I….I don’t know.” Honestly, you did not know. Your mind had too much to go through; so many memories and phrases from moments ago hit you all at once. You’re fighting the urge to tremble — not from the cold, but from overstimulation of brain power and senses.

His eyes are still fixed on you, noting you chewing on your lip. “Come with me.” The sudden revelation quirked your eyebrows up. “Whatever’s going on with you is obviously because of me. So, I’d feel like a dick if I just let you leave because of me. Plus, there’s no way you’re getting an Uber from here. Shit is like $20, I checked.”

“Gojo, I—“ he silences you with a kiss on your forehead. The feel of his lips on your skin again almost made you shut down.

“Sorry,” he whispered while placing his forehead on yours. You never really noticed how tall he was until he did that, your heart skipping again. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

Picture it: you are out in the cold with Gojo, snow falling down silently onto your figures, him bringing his coat up to shield you from the world. If you were naive enough, you’d mistake this as a scene from a fairy tale. And how he was looking at you, too; his sunglasses were back on, but you could make out the blue orbs that lingered on yours. It’s as if he didn’t want to look at anything else. Just you and only you.

You don’t know where the hell this side of confidence came from, but you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks and bring him in for another kiss. Cold lips instantaneously warm up at each other’s contact, Gojo leaning into your touch more.

Snow continues to fall and stick, and the music from the house can still be heard from the outside. Yet it doesn’t bother you because it all drowns out in this moment you feel with him. Whatever these feelings you are experiencing are something new — scary, but new. And for some reason, it felt right to have them for him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A sheet of white cascades over the university grasses, students’ cars topped with sprinkles of snowflakes, and the lampposts emit a glow that fits the dark, cloudy weather.

You were back on campus but not in your dorm where you told Utahime you’d be. You did text her when you arrived, so she doesn’t have to worry too much for you. In turn, she texted back that something had come up and is going to another event with Haibara and some other friends. She said she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning; it sounds like she’s having a good time.

The same thing goes for Geto, only that the raven-haired boy called Gojo to say he’d be home in the morning because he was getting “private” with someone he met at the party. “Will be back in the morning. Don’t cause a fire alarm like last time, you dork."

Haibara is supposedly with your roommate, meaning he won’t be back until the morning, either. The only person left to account for would be Nanami, who is currently away for the weekend because he had to visit home to grab last-minute things from break.

That leaves only you inside their apartment – in Gojo’s room on top of his bed with your top and bra down on the carpeted floor, along with Gojo’s sweatshirt and jeans. His bed is like any other twin bed for college dorms, a little impossible to move around for two people and limited positions. Nonetheless, to start things off slow, you lie comfortably on his bed with your head to his pillow as he crawls above you and works from above.

Gojo is straddled on top of you, kissing your lips and sucking on your tongue, evoking the prettiest wails he’s ever heard. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders while his are busy roaming your body.

The kiss is broken when you gasp at the contact of his pinkie grazing a nipple on your breast. “Ahhnn, Satoru, don’t touch…Mmmph!”

“Hmmm, what, gorgeous?” He places his lips from your chin down to your neck, sucking on your skin and leaving ticklish nibbles. “Don’t touch what?”

“M–My ni—Ohhoo!” He gives the hardened bud a tweeze, and your cry results from the sudden action.

He chuckles, “So cute.” Kisses travel down from your collarbone, your breasts, and finally, your other unattended nipple. A whimper leaves your lips at the wet sensation of his tongue swirling around the sensitive nob, and you shriek when he takes it into his mouth. The frequent grazes of his teeth and the tongue pushing your nipple to the roof of his mouth — it all felt surreal.

Yet, it wasn’t as surreal as the next thing he was about to do. Sucking on your tit was the perfect distraction for him to sneak a hand down into your pantyhose, sinking it to the lower regions of your underwear. You gasp at the feeling of a digit pressing on the wet spot of your underwear.

“W–Mmmph…’toru, wait…” you pat him on his shoulder to get his attention, yet he doesn’t lift from your breast yet. “Don’t—Stop, it’s embarrassing—Khhmm!“ Shivers shoot up your spine after Gojo uses his middle and forefinger to go in between your panty-covered folds. Your wetness sticks onto him the more he rubs.

Gojo lets go of your nipple with one last suck, the cool air chilling the wet bud. “Awww, is my lil’ princess shy?” You could only answer in pants and puffs, his blue eyes surveying your entire body laid out for him. “Heh, shit, you look so good...Hmm? Hey, you got a tear down here.”

“Huh?” You follow his eyes down to your tights, bringing your attention to a worn-down incision where Gojo’s hand is between the material and your underwear. It must’ve been from when I was grinding on him earlier today…

The snow-haired boy removes his hand from inside your tights and uses both to make the rip bigger. Your eyes shot wide, “Wha—What are you doing?”

“Making it easier to see your pussy.” He continues to tear a hole big enough for the damp spot of your pussy to be prevalent.

Your face dials up in warmth at the vulgar word. “You could’ve just taken them off, you idiot…”

“Pssh, that’s no fun. Besides,” Gojo uses a thumb to remove the panty barrier to reveal what he’s wanted to see the moment you crawled up on his bed. Your bare cunt, wet substance glistening the pretty folds of your labia. He bites his lip. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty thing you’ve been hiding from me.”

Your hands rush to cover up your vagina, “D-Don’t say such embarrassing things, Gojo!”

“Hey, hey, let me see it,” his hands are used to pull yours aside, your slit throbbing from his gaze without your control. “And what did I say about calling me by my last name?”

It was a force of habit, dummy. “...Just be gentle, okay, Satoru?”

He beams a smile at you, the dimples on his cheek prevalent with his childish manner. “I will, princess! Now, what’s goin’ on here…”

He ditches his head down to your chasm, giving the inviting genitalia a slow lick up to your clitoris. You bucked your hips in shock, jerking at the sudden intrusion of his tongue situating between your slit. He uses his hands to keep your legs still while he sucks and teases your vagina.

You grab for his hair, “—Khhaa!! Ohhh, ohhfuckkk, Satoru, no—Ohhh!!” Your eyes screw shut, mouth open to let your cries fly out.

It only pushes Gojo to keep going, his tongue ravaging your folds as if he’s going to lick you clean. And when he sucks on clit? Holy fuck, you could’ve sworn your soul left your body right there and then.

“Satoruuu!! Ohhhshit, ohhhh…Mmmph,” the noises that come from the commotion below of Gojo’s tongue lapping and slurping your essence were so pornographic to the ears as if they’d melt on the spot. “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum, I think I’m gonna…Nnmmph!”

Gojo hears you; that’s why he removes his mouth from your clit before you can experience your orgasm. You throw an unsatisfied whine at him, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face. “Sorry, cutie. But I wanna have a feel for you first.” He straightens his posture and spreads your legs for him. You follow his hands that land at the hem of his boxer briefs, where a tent protrudes until his erection is sprung out with one fell swoop.

The erect limb you gawked at was definitely something you weren’t mentally prepared enough to see. Your eyes take in every single detail you can: from his pink tip, where precum exudes from the urethra down to the underside of his cock, to the long body curved slightly to the left. A whole living a breathing dick — and it’s Gojo’s dick, of all things. It was oddly pretty, you had to admit.

“Ya ready?” You snap back to reality when Gojo calls out to you as he scoots forward to you after putting the condom on, the cockhead aligning with your labia. You hold your breath at the proximity, “Listen to me, Y/n. Since this is your first time, I need you to take deep breaths and try to relax for me. Think you can do that for me?” You sigh through your nostrils, but you nod. “Heh, good. Now stay still, and let me know if it hurts, okay, princess?”

He lightly pushes his glans to your labia, swirling it around to warm you up before kissing the entrance of your vagina. He begins to propel into you, and you begin to brace yourself for the pain that accompanies his insertion. You grab the pillowcase, your teeth clinging to your bottom lip as tears well up. But you remind yourself to breathe, drawing out as much of an exhale for Gojo to shove the tip in.

And when it does get in, you release the loudest gasp you’ve ever expressed that night! Your body froze stiffly as Gojo plunged more of his length into you; the curve scraping your side caused such an exhilarating spike in your nerves that your walls immediately began clenching around him.

Oh fuck, It’s coming, I’m gon— “Ahhhh!”

And just like that, your orgasm that was avoided before came back in seconds., the walls of your slit fluttering on Gojo’s cock like crazy, electric shocks climbing up to your head and pulling you in for a haze.

The sudden contraction of you makes Gojo hiss, “—Fuuuck, you’re gripping me like crazy…! Damn, you feel so fucking good…” He continues to push himself onto you until the base rises your southern lips and grinds his pelvis, which only fuels your screams even more with the overstimulation. “—Khhh! D-Damn…did you cum, baby?”

You can’t even form a proper sentence, your lower half feeling too full to speak, and your figure trembling from the crescendo.

Your expression has Gojo bend down to laugh. “Never had that happened before. Heh, glad I could make you cum for the first time. Congrats, pretty…” Pillowy lips claim yours again, taking your whines and whimpers as he roughly grinds his hips to you.

Gojo begins moving his hips at a slow pace, letting you adjust to his size and shape. However, the peak has made your entire lower body dial-up in sensitivity, your back arching to him every time your clit is barely touched. Tears have long fallen since he successfully entered inside you.

Jesus, the fucking curve of his shaft was so fucking dangerous! Not only was the feeling of his veins coming to and fro with your inner walls had you twitching, but the way the tip of his cock was scratching and poking every spot that had you humming was so unfair. Especially now, when he changes the rhythm to a faster cadence, you’re bound to come again!

“Ohooo, ahahhh, Sa-‘toru…! Ughhh, Jesus, it feels so….Hooohhh!!” Your words slurred in between kisses, almost choking on your tongue with the slap of his balls hitting your taint.

“Yeah, baby…—Ohhh, shit, shit, shiiiit…!” You feel so good to Gojo; he can’t help but slam onto you with all his might. Your nails were causing eclipses on the skin of his shoulders. He didn’t mind; he knew it was because you were feeling good, too. “Hnngh…How’re you feelin’, Y/n? Hmm?”

“—Eeshh!! I–I…don’t know…” Your brain was too mushy to think adequately, too distracted by what was between your legs.

But Gojo wasn’t buying that mess. “Ohoho, I think you do know, sweetie.” The tall silver-haired boy creeps a hand down to your clit to give it a pinch. You scream, your legs wrapping around his hips involuntarily. “How’re you feeling?”

“—Fuuuhucck!! It feels good,” There, you finally said it. “It feels soo good…Hic–pleaseeee, make me feel good, ‘toruuuu!!”

He puts his forehead to yours before kissing it. “God, you’re so fucking, cute…”

Gojo increases his tempo to an erratic fashion, your howls bouncing off the walls with every plunge of his dick inside you. Your gummy walls clamp onto him while his fingers swipe around your clitoris, and more tears strike down your wet cheeks.

The familiar tingling sensation from before begins to climb up. Oh, God, it’s happening again. “Ahhooo—OhmyfuckingGooood!! I’m gonna cum again, I’m gonna cummm…! Aiiishh, ahhhhh!!”

And there it goes, your second crescendo hitting you like a wall. Your walls twitch around Gojo’s length again, prompting the man above you to impetuously thrust in a harsh motion, evoking more choked sobs from your puffy lips. And when he dwells into a finish of his own, you can feel his limb pulsate along with your contractions withering away.

The two of you heave and pant close to each other before Gojo slumps his body on your nude figure, allowing him to rest while he pumps his load into your stimulated cunt. The sheets beneath you stick to your sweaty skin, the air of Gojo’s huffs tickling your neck.

When you feel your body subsided from the excitement, you two turn to each other. Noses touching each other, eyes locked into each other’s stares.

“….So,” he’s the first to speak in a whisper. “…What does this make us?”

His eyes were so alluring to look at, like looking at the most beautiful azure gems in your adjacency. “…I’ll punch you if you say I’m your girlfriend.”

That has him chuckling in shaky breathes. “Fair enough, but it’d be dumb if we didn't talk after this.”

A curt nod in agreement, “…Is there a thing called frenemies-with-benefits?”

“Pfft, I don’t know, but why not? I wouldn’t mind.” Gojo then decides to get up and finally remove himself from you, slowly taking out his cock with the condom. The bed creaks when he leaves to remove the plastic and wrap it to discard it. “You okay?”

You ponder for a few seconds before coming to an honest answer. “I think so…My pantyhose isn’t fine, though, you fiend.”

He flashes another smile at you, his dimples taking your heart away. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. I’ll get you another pair.”

“You better.”

BZZZT!! BZZZT!! BZZZT!!

Before you could get off the bed, a vibration came from Gojo’s dresser top. It was his phone, the caller ID reading as “punk-boy bangy wannabe”

You blink and give the phone to Gojo after he puts his sweatshirt back on. With raised brows, he says, “It’s Suguru?” His thumb presses the green button before bringing the device to his ear while he puts his limp dick back in his boxers. “Yo. Wassup?”

“Okay, good, you picked up. I’m getting in the elevator right now to grab something from the room real quick. Open the door for me, will ya?”

The white-haired roommate couldn’t express his shock in time because Geto ended the call before he could have the chance. He turns to you slowly, and you can tell whatever he’s going to say isn’t good based on that dumb look on his face. “Suguru's coming up…now.”

Panic spiked up as it rightfully should. You were still braless and topless, for Christ’s sake! And wearing torn tights!? Something you did not want Geto to see in the likes of his and Gojo’s room. “W–What should I do?!”

Gojp quickly scans the room for a plan, immediately pointing to a door to his right. “Hide in my closet!” He hurries to grab the door open. “Quick, grab your clothes and get in here!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…!” You grab for everything in your direct line of sight, making a straight beeline to the closet when you’ve got everything. “Don’t forget my shoes at the front; just quickly hide them somewhere!”

“Okay, okay—“

“I’m serious, Gojo! Do not do anything stupid!”

“I heard you, jeez.” He watches you move around the closet, moving his shoes to one side while trying to hide behind one of his suits. Jesus, you looked real cute even when you were scared. “…Hey.”

You peer up at him, moving his blazer so he could see your complete face. “What?”

“Be careful not to leave your panties here ‘cause I might not give them back.”

The last thing Gojo saw within that second was one of his dress shoes thrown dead at his face. His hands come to his stinging nose and cheek, exclaiming at the pain with a loud groan. “Fucking pervert, quit playing dumb games and get my shoes!”

I take it fucking back. He slams the closet door closed. “So uncute…”

7K notes · View notes

always-just-red · 2 months ago

Note

Multi headcanon request please. The LIs touch their s/os' breast for the first time, but it's an accident. However, instead of getting mad, she gently scolds them "save that behavior for when we're alone".

You always give me such great requests tehe, I had the absolute time of my life with this one. Did mini fics again! Featuring this time: a baking class with Xavier 🍰, a check-up with Zayne 🩺, pottery-making with Rafayel 🏺, casino night with Sylus 🎲, and a VERY serious study session with Caleb 📚

Innocent Little Mistakes

L&DS Boys x Reader

Summary: In which the boys are all menaces, surprising literally no-one 🥰

Genre: Humour

Warnings/Additional tags: female reader, inappropriate touching (but make it ✨COMEDY✨), PDA, slight suggestiveness, established relationships

| Word count: 600-750 words each! | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Xavier ⭐

One more strike and you’re out.

You furiously mix the bowl of cake batter under your arm, all too aware of the chef watching you from across the room. You don’t know why he’s looking at you— you’re not the problem. The problem is beside you, measuring out an ingredient you don’t actually need.

“What’re you up to, Xavi?” you ask with a nervous chuckle, trying not to sound suspicious.

He looks up at you, blue eyes as warm as the oven that’s making everything feel too hot. “Measuring,” he declares with a smile.

“That’s great, sweetie.”

Don’t ask. Just leave it.

Every other couple in the class look sickeningly in love— trading ingredients, utensils, and lingering gazes— all in perfect harmony. Meanwhile, you have a ticking time bomb for a partner. First there was the egg incident: a rogue egg from your table had somehow ended up under the foot of the man one counter down from you, slipping him over and twisting his ankle. Then the man from the couple behind you slipped too: on a butter wrap Xavier had sworn he’d thrown away.

Funny how so many of the things from your counter are going on little, deadly adventures.

You shoot Xavier another wary look. He glances up. Smiles. You smile back. When the cake batter’s done, tipped into the tin and tucked into the oven, you move onto the icing. You whip it up in a minute, lifting a spoon from the bowl and dragging a finger through to taste it.

“Xavier,” you say, nudging the bowl across to him, “mind putting a little more sugar in this? I need to start tidying up.”

“Sure,” he beams.

He can’t mess that up, right? You don’t want to exclude him. With a soft sigh, you start to reorganise your work station: making space for the cake you’re going to decorate. Xavier’s voice interrupts you, sweet like the sugar flowers you’re sorting through:

“How’s this?”

You turn, and the moment you do, something cool scrapes your collarbone. Xavier was holding out a spoon— too close— and it tips at your contact, spilling sticky white icing down past the neckline of your apron and shirt. You feel it, inching down your skin, between your breasts.

You’ve been stunned into silence. Xavier is staring down too, lips parted, spoon still mid-air.

“Don’t just stare!” you find it in you to scold, glancing about for something that’ll help you clean up. “Help me—”

That’s when you feel it: something warm on your skin. Your gaze shoots down and Xavier is wiping his thumb through the mess on your chest. He lifts the icing to his mouth. Pops it past his lips.

“Xavier!” you exclaim on a whisper.

His eyes had fluttered closed, but they open again. His lips are still on his thumb as he looks back at you. “Mmm?” he hums around it, like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

That face is so devastatingly innocent, but you’re not falling for it. You cross your arms and glare.

“You want some too?” Xavier translates.

Before you can stop him, his thumb is on your skin again. “Xavi—!” you protest, but then that thumb is in your mouth, overwhelming you with sweetness. Except… it’s not all sweet. You frown as Xavier’s hand moves away, your nose wrinkling with disgust. “Wha— why is it salty?!”

“Wasn’t it salty already?”

“No! Xavier, what did you…? You can’t just—!”

“Are you okay?” Xavier laughs so lightly it’s almost a giggle. “You look… warm. What are you thinking about?”

He’s leaning against the counter now, cheek settled in his hand. He has the countenance of an angel and he knows what you’re thinking about. His free hand plays with a salt shaker on the counter; it doesn’t look anything like the sugar.

Behind you, someone clears their throat.

…

You walk home from the bakery class a lot earlier than planned, having— and you’re quoting verbatim, here— ‘crossed a line’. Xavier’s at your side, a bowl of icing in his hands that no-one dared take from him, and he hums pleasantly to himself as he lifts a fingerful to his lips.

“You did that on purpose,” you grumble, and it’s the first words you’ve said in a while.

He smiles like butter icing wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

Zayne ❄️

“Zayne, c’mon… it’s not that bad.”

Lower half cocooned by the blankets of a hospital bed, you give your doctor a lopsided smile. He doesn’t grace your statement with a response— at least, not an intelligible one. There’s a tiny hum, to let you know you’ve been heard. There’s an even tinier frown, to let you know he was not amused.

So you got a little scraped up by a Wanderer— it happens! With your own frown, you regard the pulse oximeter that’s biting the end of your forefinger. You wiggle it, even though Zayne had instructed you to keep still. The tiny screen flashes and flickers. He writes… something down on his clipboard, and it feels needlessly dramatic.

“How would you rate the pain you’re currently experiencing?” he asks.

“Zero. Zilch. Nada. I feel great, actually.”

More scribbles for the clipboard, which means absolutely nothing good.

“I mean it, Zayne. I’m fine, really. I don’t even know why Xavier brought me here. Like, what’s the point of first-aid training if you’re just gonna dump someone in the hospi—”

“Please be still.”

You’d started gesturing, and Zayne stares across at the monitor on your finger. He sighs, which you don’t think is professional, then reaches to press a button on it, restarting its progress. You’re obedient this time: sitting still as he goes back to his beloved clipboard. That sigh sounded tired.

The oximeter bleeps. Zayne glances up. Makes another note.

“There,” he says, his eyes still trained downwards as he reaches across you to retrieve the device, “was that really so—?”

The words stop in his throat when his hand brushes your chest.

Just a graze, but his fingers hover guiltily for a moment before correcting their course: homing in on the oximeter, pinching it open. Zayne doesn’t meet your eyes as he returns to his writing. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks that definitely isn’t professional.

This is amazing. “Did you just—?”

He gives an adorably slight shake of his head.

You gasp anyway, utterly scandalised: “Doctor Zayne! You took an oath.”

“Stop.”

“Here I am, weak from blood loss! Vulnerable!”

“Stop.”

“What sort of an establishment is this, hmm? What other twisted, sordid things go on behind the—” and it’s at this moment you catch a glimpse of a familiar figure— “ah, Doctor Greyson! Doctor Greyson! In here, please!”

The man had been passing through the ward, though he stops at the sound of your voice. “Oh, hello!” he greets, peering around your privacy curtain, “Zayne mentioned you were in! It’s good to see you. Well, not good to see you here, but— you know what I mean! How are you?”

“I’m shocked,” you witter on, because you’ve no time for pleasantries, “shocked, I say! Just now, this man here had the audacity to—”

A cold hand clamps over your mouth.

You are— actually— shocked. You blink at Greyson, eyes wide; even he looks like he’s seen a Wanderer riding a bicycle through the hospital. After a moment of tense, awkward silence, he does that face you know so well. His ‘nope, I’m not going anywhere near whatever this is!’ face.

It’s not a surprise when he backs out, leaving you and Zayne alone once more. Your doctor’s hand is still over your mouth, breaching all kinds of ethics, and oh, how the mighty have fallen. This feels like victory. When Zayne’s hand finally drops, you’re grinning.

“Had your fun?” he asks quietly, looking back to his notes.

“Have you? Or do you wanna have another...?” You waggle a finger at your breasts.

Zayne’s mouth is a tight line, and he doesn’t dare look up. Something is scrawled on the clipboard and you get the feeling it’s a distraction. Your very important doctor is writing very important things. Definitely isn’t scribbling nonsense. He clears his throat, then stands rigidly, his face sombre.

Did you take your joke too far? Your heart starts to have some kind of episode as he walks away, and the stupid machine you’re hooked up to says nothing about it, which is typical.

But Zayne still stops at the curtain. Glances over his shoulder.

“Ask me later,” he says with a gentle smirk.

Rafayel 🎨

“This is just like that old movie.”

Rafayel hums a familiar, vintage tune as his hands cradle yours, guiding them up and down, up and down, as a wet clay vase spins beneath your touch. Everything about your partner is relaxed: his fingers, lazy and precise, and his head, settled comfortably on your shoulder. The song is so close to your ear that it tickles.

How the hell is he so calm? Your eyes are fixed downwards, brow furrowed with the sort of concentration you’d usually save for disarming a bomb. Your fingers feel clumsy and dangerous. Your head hurts. It doesn’t help that every other couple in the pottery class are stealing less-than-subtle glances your way: isn’t that—?

Yep! The Rafayel. Creative genius, ‘Da Vinci of our time’ Rafayel, and here you are, ever a moment away from destroying his latest masterpiece.

“Raf, stop…” you mutter, because he’s still humming away, distracting you.

“Okay!”

The song stops. You don’t think Rafayel has ever co-operated so quickly. Which means…

“Woahhh,” he sings quietly, privately, and right on cue, “my love… my darling… I’ve hungered for your—”

“Stop!” you hiss under your breath, untangling a hand from your project so you can swat at his face.

“A long... lonely— ah! — tiiiime!”

The vase is already folding over on itself, collapsing into a sad, soggy heap as Rafayel half sings, half chuckles, catching your hand so he can launch a counterstrike. A wet finger brushes your nose and you gasp, wrinkling your face in indignance. Then you wriggle your hand free, going in for another swat. The artist’s head has left your shoulder. The arms around you are suddenly attacking.

There’s a kerfuffle of hands, slick and sticky with clay. Slapping each-other. Trying to outmanoeuvre each-other. One lands on your chest with a thwap!

You both go deathly still.

Rafayel has stopped laughing, his body a marble statue behind you; you think his breath has actually gone. When his hand lifts away from you, it’s like a delusional cat slinking away from a crime: if I move slowly enough, I’m completely invisible.

What isn’t invisible, however, is the crude clay handprint he leaves behind. You stare down at it, mortified. “Raf!” you scold, and oh gods you hope nobody saw what just happened.

“I didn’t—” he begins, and he’s staring down over your shoulder, too. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t just sit there!” You shoo him away, one hand hovering in front of your chest like you’re not wearing anything at all. “I need something to—”

“On it!”

He can fix this. He can fix this. He practically falls off the seat you’d been sharing as he unwraps himself from you, stumbling up onto his feet. His hands are on his hips as he catches his breath; it had taken a lot of effort not to end up on the floor.

With a glance about, the artist spies a nearby cloth. You see the ‘aha!’ moment— the relief in his eyes as he turns towards it, on a mission. Your hero.

There’s a soft smack!

Rafayel freezes, pink creeping into his cheeks.

By the time he looks down over his shoulder, eyes widening at the bright, wet handprint on his ass, you’re already salvaging your clay vase— moulding it back into a workable blob as you hum an old song, completely innocent.

Sylus 🩸

“So… what are we spending our winnings on, sweetie?”

“A diamond as big as me,” you whisper.

“Is that it?”

Hmm. “A diamond as big as you.”

“Now you’re talking.”

Sylus chuckles, as rich and intoxicating as the alcohol he swirls in a glass as he stalls before his next throw. No-one would dare rush him. His other hand toys with a pair of dice, turning them over each-other, making them waltz about his fingers. The ministrations are practiced, experienced, and— glancing around the craps table— you’re not the only one who’s noticed.

One woman is utterly mesmerised. She takes a sip of her drink, swallowing thickly, and you like to think (delusionally) that you’ve never quite stared at Sylus as shamelessly as that. It isn’t her fault, though. Every person at the table is fixated on the man beside you, and it’s not just because they’ve got stakes in whatever he rolls next.

Sylus doesn’t own this casino— as far as you know— but he acts like he does. He places his bets. Smiles when he wins and smiles wider when he loses, as though in on a private joke. Everyone wants to know what it is. You inch closer to Sylus. Ask loud enough for them all to hear: “What do we need again?”

We.

“A nine,” he answers.

There’s a soft clack as the dice go still in his palm. He’s staring down the forest-green battleground you both stand at the head of. “Here,” he says, lifting his hand towards you, “blow on—”

He’s misjudged the distance, because his fingers collide with your chest. One of the dice rolls from his palm, tumbling down past the neckline of your dress and into your cleavage. It’s cold, but you don’t flinch. You look down in slow disbelief. Then you look at Sylus.

His crimson eyes are fixed on where the die disappeared. He glances up with a sheepish grin. “Oops.”

Oops? Your gaze is a knife at his throat and he thinks if he’s cute enough, you might not use it. You narrow your eyes and purse your lips. Wanna try that again?

Sylus’s laugh is awkward, but he isn’t a coward. “May I just—?”

His hand comes towards you, and though those fingers were never actually going to commit to that little suicide mission, you still slap them away. “No!”

He pouts, splaying the same hand expectantly. With a sigh, your fingers delve beneath your neckline, fishing around for a second. You present the die with an uninspired flourish, and it’s warm when you drop it into Sylus’s open palm. His fingers close around it. He’s smirking to himself as he turns back to the table.

“Lucky die,” he muses under his breath.

“What did you just say?!”

Louder: “I said ‘lucky—”

“You’re a dead man, Sylus Qin. D-E-A-D. Dead. You hear me? The moment we get home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sylus nods dutifully; he’s not going to argue with that particular judge, jury, and executioner. He tosses the dice across the table and they clatter as they roll— the same, indifferent timbre as the chuckle in his throat. Everyone goes silent when they judder to a stop. Everyone leans in, fractionally.

A six and a three. Nine.

The gathering around you give a tentative applause. No-one really knows what just happened, least of all you and Sylus. You both stare at the dice, eyes wide, as a casino employee slides stacks of chips in your direction. Neither of you move when the dice are passed back, too.

It’s your turn, but Sylus has been throwing for you. He reaches forwards to collect the dice— starts to toy with them idly again, but it’s more pensive than last time. They clack, clack, but his mind is far away from them. Ever so slowly, his gaze inches towards you, pondering a silent question.

He’s not looking at your eyes.

Your arms cross. “Don’t even think about it.”

Caleb 🍎

“A Gelidus Dentis.”

Caleb’s voice makes you jump so much you almost drop your pen. “Huh?”

He’s stood behind where you’re sat, peering downwards. “It’s a Wanderer.”

“Yeah, I know it’s a Wanderer, Colonel Obvious. I meant why’re you talking about it?”

“Because it’s the answer? Duh.” He nods at the open textbook in front of you, and your gaze drops.

You’d practically been falling asleep reading through the practice question: some hypothetical about the aftermath of a Wanderer attack. Somewhere with a cold climate. Victims with ice burns. Multiple lacerations. Blah blah blah— you’ve got the idea.

“Please,” you dismiss as Caleb returns to his seat next to you. “It’s a Hoarfrost Wyrmlord. Easy.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I’ve seen one of those guys. That’s not it.”

“Oh you’ve seen one? Big whoop. I’ve killed one. Try, like, twenty.”

He tuts sympathetically as he goes back to his own work: some reports that’re definitely way too confidential for a public library. “Then it’s gonna be really embarrassing when you find out that I’m right and you’re wrong, pips.”

You scoff, making a point of writing out ‘Hoarfrost Wyrmlord’ as confidently as you can.

“Gelidus Dentis,” Caleb lilts in a sing-song voice as you flick to the back of your textbook.

You’re gonna shove your correct answer right in his face, you just need to find it. It should be right… here! Section Three. Question Twenty-Two. The Wanderer responsible is most likely a—

Fuck.

“I told you,” Caleb sings quietly again, signing his name on the bottom of a page, then turning it over.

“It was a Hoarfrost Wyrmlord.”

“It really wasn’t, but it’s cute you still hide your mouth when you’re lying.”

Your hand had lifted subconsciously in front of your lips, and you throw it back down on the textbook. “Oh, shush!”

“You shush!” The measureless galaxies of his eyes are back on you.

You slap his arm gently. He slaps your arm gently. You try to slap at his face, which means he tries to slap at your face. Soon enough, you’re both flailing your hands like two cats determined to bop the other.

Caleb’s paw lands on one of your breasts, and he doesn’t have time to regret it. With an indignant gasp, you give his chest a firm smack!

He stares at you in disbelief. You clear your throat, brushing down the fabric of your shirt as if the matter has been settled. Then you pick up your dropped pen. Okay! Question Twenty-Three: You’re called out to answer a distress signal from deep within a tropical rainforest...

“What was that?” Caleb asks.

You sniff. Say under your breath: “Tit for tit.”

“Come again?”

“Tit for tit,” you shrug. “That’s the saying. That’s how it goes.”

From the smile on his face, Caleb’s delighted. “Uh… I don’t think that is how it goes, pipsqueak.”

“Oh yeah? Hope you’re ready to look like an idiot, then.”

With a hmph, you reach for a spare piece of paper. Fold it in half. Write something brief on the outside, then on the inside. Caleb watches your pen move, quietly enamoured. There’s a click as it retracts. You hand the paper over.

Caleb’s face wrinkles, but he still handles it like it’s sacred. “Totally official dictionary!” he reads from the front. Then he opens it, continuing: “Tit for tit. Noun. If Caleb cops a feel in the library, then I get to… hey now—” he frowns— “this doesn’t seem very legitimate.”

“You dare question the authority of the Hunter’s Association?”

“I do,” he nods. “I do dare. Yeah, you see… look at this.”

He scribbles something down in your dictionary, then passes it back to you. You raise an eyebrow but relent, reading the new addition out loud: “Deepspace Fleet. Proper (awesome) noun. Has absolutely every right to question the authority of the Hunter’s Association.” You toss the paper down. “Whatever.”

Caleb sniggers victoriously as you try to get back to your work. When he doesn’t stop, you give his chest another slap. The sniggering dies out. The space between you goes quiet.

Then he reaches— smacks one of your breasts back. You look up, eyes huge.

“Oh,” he chuckles, “I think I’m gonna like this little arrangement.”

#🖋rach is actually writing #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #caleb x reader #love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads x mc #shen xinghui #li shen #qi yu #qin che #xia yizhou #lads #lnds #l&ds

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slutofpsh · 11 months ago

Text

strip for me.

part three

pairings: hyungline x reader (sunghoon & heeseung)

synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.

wc: 6k

warnings: smut, minor dni, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. this is not proof read.

note: next part will be fivesome with the hyungline so it’ll take time. be patient. please reblog and reply to. it is highly encouraged. thank you so much for your support. part one (here) ; part two (here)

your grip over your phone tightens while a text message flashes through its screen. a one sentence text is all it takes for your whole system to feel thrilled.

‘i’ll see you at the locker's room after my morning practice.’ — psh.

that was all it says. sunghoon’s not the texter type. out of all of them, he’s the least you expect to appear on your messages and so to receive something from him makes your stomach churns.

it’s still very early and after you checked your phone, that’s the first thing you saw.

Park Sunghoon is the team captain of your school’s ice hockey team and every thursday morning, they have practice before going to class. today is that day.

you didn’t reply to him and honestly, you’re contemplating whether to go meet him or not. obviously, something like what happened yesterday may occur. And no matter how bad does it sound, a hint of excitement stirs at the depth of your mind.

despite it, worry and agitation overpowers you. sunghoon is a very mean guy. you’ve done it with the four of them, and he’s the roughest when he’s mad or if he’s trying to punish you.

jake mentioned yesterday that it was a punishment. jay may have didn’t mention it, but his odd behavior was enough for you to conclude that something’s going on.

you spent the whole night thinking of what did you do wrong, backtracking over the things happened the day prior today. even no matter how hard you strain your brain, nothing pops inside your head. nothing. none.

still in trance, a new message appears on sunghoon’s chat box.

‘don’t even think of ditching me or i’ll be seriously be pissed.’ — psh.

you can imagine his brows hardly furrowed, jaw clenched and eyes cold as ice burning through his phone screen as he tap those words to send you. that was enough to make you feel scared. sunghoon’s not very nice, what more if he’s pissed off?

so before you even get deeply caught into your thoughts, you pushed yourself up from the comfort of your bed and started preparing to go meet him.

on the other hand, the sound of skates sliding through the ice and nonstop smashing of hockey sticks echoes all around the auditorium. players chants and shouts at each other as they try their best to make a score. if you aren’t too familiar with the members, you’ll think they don't belong in the same group.

but they do. it was just a normal practice session, only park sunghoon, the captain and also the team’s ace, are a little bit more worked up at the moment. his eyes dark and his moves are more aggressive than usual.

his teammates that are currently on his team in this game cheered when he made another score. ice splatters as he abruptly tried to make a stop. he pants as he removes his head gear.

“come on,” one long slide and a newbie made it near him. he was panting so bad as he raises his arms. “its just practice man.” he says towards sunghoon.

the old members looks at him in horror, giving a hint not to say anything else as sunghoon faces him with a placid look on his face.

sunghoon kept silent before advancing towards the newbie. he stared right at his face for a while before grabbing him by his shirt, jaw clenching. the other varsities panics and starts to discard his hold, but he was too strong.

“if you can’t keep up with me then that’s not my problem.” he spat and gave this chilling gaze at the newbie. the obvious fear flickers through the younger’s eyes as his mouth hangs open, unable to utter a single word.

“sunghoon! that’s enough.” thankfully, their coach arrived just in time to stop the fight.

from the chairs outside the rink, one pair of eyes watches closely. his half-lidded eyes stares lazily at the scene unfolding, totally unbothered by it. his back rests at the chair and legs crossed, conveying so much dominance.

heeseung saw how sunghoon kept his grip on his teammates uniform, clearly being stubborn. he's not even surprised. typical sunghoon who never listens and always lets his temper control him.

sunghoon gave the poor boy one cold stare before pushing him off as he lets go of his jersey. he, then slides out of the rink.

“hoon.” heeseung calls that made the younger halt his steps.

he cranes his neck and look at him with blank eyes, waiting for what his hyung is about to say. heeseung trailed his gaze from the rink towards him.

“remember not to be carried away.” he reminds him.

“i know.” he shortly replied, still feeling so heated from the practice.

“and don’t hurt her.” he says in a very low tone.

sunghoon scoffs, “i won’t.” his eyes darkens as his lips stretched into a smirk, showing off his fangs. “at least not in that way.”

your head peeks slightly to look while the players are leaving their locker one by one. it’s been almost ten minutes since you arrived the school. as expected, there’s only a few around and the whole building is still vacant.

you’re still busy checking when the hairs on your neck raised, chills running down your spine. a presence can be felt from behind you. slowly, you craned your neck to look over your shoulder.

wide broad chest is what you saw first. you trailed your gaze upwards to see lee heeseung staring down on you with a deadpan look on his handsome face.

a light gasp escapes your lips and tries to step back once.

“u-uh,” you gulped and lowered your head to avoid looking at his eyes. “sunghoon asked me t-to meet him here.”

you have no idea why on earth are you explaining to him. it just feels right to let him know why you are currently here, early in the morning, when your class starts a bit hour later.

“i know.” he shortly replies.

of course he knew. is there something else that he doesn’t know? what you noticed from lee heeseung is that besides being a very reserved individual, he’s also very observant. if the other boys loves being the center of attention, this tall gorgeous boy prefers to be on the corner, watching.

you tried glancing if he’s still looking and after meeting his gaze for a split second, you folded and glanced away.

he sighs heavily, “you guys have at least 45 minutes until our first class starts. don’t be late.” he says under his breath and starts walking away to the direction of your building.

the further he is away from you, the more your breathing stables. something about him intimidates and makes you nervous as hell. even before you can look at him to check if he’s already far away, he talks again.

“y/n,” in a speed of light, you faced him with flushed cheeks.

“y-yeah?”

his blank eyes slightly softens, “he’s in a very bad mood. if he gets out of hand, calm him down.”

his words confused you right away. first, sunghoon’s out of mood most of the times. second, why is he saying these words like as if you know perfectly what to do?

“b-but how..?”

he kept a placid look before turning his back to start walking again, leaving with, “you know how.”

you’re left standing awkwardly. heeseung’s already gone and you haven’t moved an inch. his words echoes inside your head repeatedly. it still confusing you how there’s a hint of confidence lingering through his words.

a vibration from your phone is what snapped you back to reality.

‘come here.’ — psh.

that was your cue. without thinking twice, your feet moves like it has a mind of its own, walking and leading you towards the locker room of the ice hockey team. sunghoon’s lure.

it was quiet and slightly dark. when you made it to the far end, you saw him sat at one of the benches. his head didn’t even whip to look at your way when you arrive, like he was expecting you and nobody else.

his elbows bore on his knees as he was leaning, head hanging low.

“sunghoon?” you calls him using your soft voice.

sunghoon finally lifts his head and look at your direction. there you are. you look beautiful wearing the school uniform neatly, hair brushed and eyes staring at him with a hint of concern.

he didn’t show any reaction to his face that made you feel agitated. heeseung’s words flashes back on you, that he’s in a bad mood. it scares you even more, adding to the tension.

“why are you standing so far, doll?”

his husky voice slightly echoes inside the wide room. its just the two of you here and that thought was enough to make your heart race. his endearment for you stirs something in you. how he always love to call you doll, in a sexy and taunting way.

you trudges closer, but still keeping a safe distant.

his dark eyes burns as he run his stare over you in a very dangerous way. he looks so attractive wearing his just his sweats and a white plain t-shirt, hair still a bit damp from shower. even from a distance, you can smell his manly scent that always makes you dizzy in a good way.

“kneel in front of me.” he demands.

you can feel your knee wobbling as you make your way towards him. slowly, you kneeled down. sunghoon almost lose his mind by the sight of you like this. he almost lets out a low groan when you follow him without saying any words, complying to him. submitting.

he leans backwards, resting one hand to the bench support his weight, the other palming his hard dick. you can see the outline of his cock through his sweatpants and blood rushes to your cheeks.

“take my cock out.”

his request made you blink and look at him. this shouldn’t surprise you anymore. before you come here, you’re expecting that things can escalate like this. but the fear of one of his teammates walking on you, makes you hesitating.

“what if s-someone comes here?”

“i’ll kill them.” he says those words without hesitation that made your heart drop.

“sunghoon—”

“you know i don’t have much patience, right?” his tone stingy and the crease on his forehead tells you that he’s not very happy on you delaying him from getting his desired blow.

you decided to keep your mouth shut and slowly reaches to his pants to pull it a bit, freeing his hardened cock. it was so hard and the tip so red. the sight makes you blush even more. if someone is asked to describe sunghoon’s manhood, they will probably say that its as beautiful as he is.

“go on.” he spat.

you gulped and licked your lips once before leaning in to wrap your lips to his dick. sunghoon bit his lower lip at the feeling of your hot mouth around him. he misses this. he wanted to curse so loud and to just shove it into you, but he stopped himself from doing so.

“fuck, just like that.” he moans and tried to open his eyes so he can watch you bobbing your head, getting your pace.

he saw how your hair covers your pretty face from his view and so he raised one of his hand to gather them and hold them for you.

“i got you, baby.” he whispers that made your core twitch.

you continued bobbing your head and sucking his dick, tasting sunghoon in your mouth. it was a familiar one, something that got inside your mouth a lot of time. later on, you can feel him thrusting his hips, meeting you. he was always rough and loves abusing your throat. he doesn’t care if you gag, he would even love that.

“fuck, fuck, fuck...” he growls and roughly shove his dick inside your mouth.

“gonna use that fucking mouth.” he says, “so pretty. so so damn pretty.” his compliments rings, but you’re too occupied on sucking him good.

there’s something about the way sunghoon moans. his voice whenever you give him immense pleasure serves as music to your ears. it was so erotic and just how he utters dirty words adds up to everything.

when you feel him almost reaching his climax, you’re so ready to accept and take it all. just a couple more deep thrust, sunghoon shoots his hot cum in the depths of your throat. groaning and moaning out of pleasure.

he lets go of your hair and pants while watching you suck him dry, letting out a faint ‘pop’ as you let him go.

“let me see.” he whispers and you open your mouth to show him how you swallowed every bit of it.

“good doll.” his words sent direct tingling feeling to your core, making you rub your thighs.

“we’re not yet done.” he says and stood up from the bench. he grabbed your arm to make you stand and guided you to sit down.

“strip for me.” that familiar line again.

with trembling hands, you try to take off the buttons of your blouse. sunghoon, as a very impatient guy he is, he curses and yanked your uniform, causing some of its buttons to fly off.

“sunghoon, what the he—” your words got interrupted when he pushed your body flat to the bench, making you lay down.

“shut the fuck up.” he says rudely and hovers above you.

his hand searches for your underwear and you whimper when his finger grazes your clit. he smirks, feeling your wetness.

“so wet for me. you’re such a slut, aren’t you?” he taunts that you answered with a faint ‘no’.

you tried to look away and avoid his gaze out of embarrasment for actually getting aroused for such foul situation. he scoffed and roll his eyes before removing your panties aggressively.

“i’m going to fuck you until you’re unable to think straight anymore.” and he aligned his head on your hole.

your brows furrowed, eyes shutting tightly. he traces your slit using his head before finally sliding it all in one go, making you gasp.

“fuck, look at my cock disappearing inside you.” he said and even ask you to lift your head so to see.

he was definitely right. he is fully buried inside you, and the pleasure it too much. you feel so full with all of him. he started pulling it out, only to slide it all back in again.

“u-ugh,” you let out a moan that clicked something in him, making him rut his dick rough and fast.

“s-sunghoon,” you whimpered, lips shaking as he continues to abuse your hole. “p-please slow down.” you plead.

he didn’t listen. in fact, he acts like as if he cannot hear any of your words. he placed both of his hands on your side, face above you as he continue relentlessly fucking you. his silver necklace hangs out from his shirt and now started moving along with his movement, slightly slapping to your pretty face. his brows sexily furrowed, jaw clenching while he utters low curses.

“i’m going to fucking breed you. you want that, doll?” he asks in a taunting way that made you whimper even more.

he scoffed at how you look beneath him. trying so hard not to let out your moan, when he can clearly see how much you’re enjoying and feeling so good from how deliciously he fucks you deep.

“you already have four dicks to fuck you and you still can’t be contented? what a bad girl.” he clicked his tongue and you opened your eyes to met his. it darkens as he started to roughly fuck you.

“you just never learn.” he growls and you can see the hint of anger in his eyes.

it scared you and your hand held his arm in attempt to push him away. but he was too strong. he didn’t budge and yank your hand, dismissing any chances of stopping him.

“who’s my pretty doll?” his grin grew wider, eyes full of nothing but lust for you.

you kept your mouth shut while still looking him straight at his eyes, tears brimming your eyes. he’s dominating you from above and you look so helpless beneath him.

when he didn’t heard an answer from you, he halts his hip from rutting you that made you whine slightly. he gripped your arm tight that you’re so sure it will leave a mark later, eyes piercing.

“who’s my pretty doll, y/n?” he asks in a very low tone, like a warning.

“answer me.” he commands that sent shivers to your spine.

you whined, “m-me.”

a smirk spreads across his face and leans in to connect his red luscious lips to your swollen ones, giving you a messy kiss. a string of saliva stretches when he leans away.

“you belong to me. you belong to us.” his words with so much emphasis that you can really tell how serious he is.

“i will fucking kill whoever tries to take you.”

“sunghoon, wait...” you can see how he’s starting to move in faster pace, almost making you see stars. one of his hand moves and reaches for your neck, slightly choking you.

“hoon—”

“that fucker, who do he think he is?! he’s nobody!”

you gasp and tried to take heavier breaths, trying not to be too distracted by how much pleasure sunghoon’s dick is giving you.

heeseung’s words then flashes through your mind. he said you can calm him down. how? obviously, this is the right time to show that skill.

instead of feeling scared of him, you snaked your hand on his nape and pulled his face closer. his forehead touches yours as you glance straight to his eyes, trying hard not to roll them up due to the imminent orgasm you’re about to have.

sunghoon was caught off-guard at your action. his eyes widen while still rutting his hip deep and rough. you look so beautiful from this distance, your pretty eyes filled with tears, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. all because of him. all for him.

“i’m s-sorry.” you mumbled close to his face.

he was at daze, his movement getting slower but his thrust remains deep, reaching all the good spots of your insides. almost making you crazy. you trap your lower lip in between your teeth, getting totally distracted.

“i’m so s-sorry, hoon.” you repeat your words, this time a little bit more softer.

while your foreheads still attached, you placed a gentle kiss on his face then flash a smile.

“i’m here.” and you heaved a sigh, “i’m yours. stop being mad, please.”

and with that, sunghoon relaxes, his breathing becoming more calm and his eyes softening as they stare at you.

he leans away to drop a kiss at your forehead before connecting them again as he start fucking you roughly. he groans and kisses your lips from time to time, moaning your name along with your sweet whimpers.

“f-fuck, baby. i’m close.” he whispers.

“me t-too.”

sunghoon dicked you down even faster trying to chase that climax. he kisses you, tongue dancing with yours, salivas mixing up. both of you are unbothered, mind filled by nothing but your lust and want to release.

“shit.” he curses as he shoot his cum inside your dripping cunt, your legs starts to shake, cumming as well.

he continued sliding his cock in and out, chasing both of your highs while making out. he moves away and watched how his dick slides out of you. his stares wandered all over your body, eyes full of desires.

“i’m sorry.” he mumbles as he caress your arm that he hold too tight a while ago. it was so red, his hand left a print.

your mouth gapped in amusement. did you just heard thee park sunghoon say sorry? he’s not type to do that. and when did he ever talk in a soft tone?

“does it hurt?” he asks, using that foreign tone again.

you smiled a little, shaking your head to assure him. he stares right at your eyes for a while before dipping his head down for another kiss. your eyes shut as you accept his kisses with no complains.

the bell from the next building is what snaps you back to your senses. his kisses moves to your chin then down to your neck.

“h-hoon, its almost time for our class. we need to go back.” your fingers run through his soft hair.

you wait for him to hiss at you for actually touching it as you are well aware how sensitive he is when it comes to his hair. but none. no complain or side comments about it.

he gave you a few more pecks before finally letting you go.

“you broke my uniform.” your lips pursed while staring down.

he just finished cleaning you up and you’re making yourself look presentable when you remembered how he broke the buttons of your blouse after pulling it hardly.

sunghoon smirks and opens his locker. he retrieves a uniform then handed it to you.

“here, you can use mine.”

the boys and girl’s top uniform is pretty similar, the only difference is the girls are shorter. some even had theirs cropped to style it in their own preference.

you accepted it and removes your broken uniform. he trudges closer then gently took the blouse from your hand so you can wear his easily. his eyes watches you closely making you feel a bit shy.

he helped you wear his uniform. “thank you.” you said, blushing.

he smirks and dips his head for a quick kiss. you’re too surprised to even say anything. you’re just too shock how he's acting right now.

“let’s go. we’re already late. heeseung hyung will be pissed.” and he grabs your things to carry it himself.

you knocked twice at your classroom when you arrived. the two of you are late and you’re silently praying the teacher's not in a bad mood today.

she cracks the door open and your homeroom teacher scans you up and down. her strict eyes watches you, eyebrow raising.

“ms. y/n. you are late.” she says.

“i’m s-sorry, ma'am.”

she was left with no choice but to let you inside. everyone’s eyes are darted at you and its very uncomfortable. your hand unconsciously plays through the edge of your uniform— more like sunghoon's. they gave you a look of curiosity. why you’re late when you’re someone never late for a class and whose uniform is that? clearly, it wasn’t yours.

before you reach your chair, you have to walk pass jake’s. his piercing and playful eyes are darted at you, grin so wide because he knew exactly where you’ve been.

“lips so swollen, sweetheart.” he stated that made you blush even more. some students who seats near him, heard it and gave you this look.

“mr. park.” is what your teacher said the moment you sat down to your chair.

when you look over the door, park sunghoon walks inside at ease. not even bothered that he’s late. his bag hangs over his shoulder while one of his hand holds yours.

“practice.” he reasoned shortly before heading your way, not even sparing your teacher a glance.

he ignored the eyes watching him and focused his stares right at you. the three other boys shrugs their shoulder off and boredly face front. jake’s smirking, jay rolled his eyes and heeseung watches carefully

sunghoon placed your things on the side of your table and leaned down to look through your eyes.

“here, baby.” he says casually then messed your hair before walking to his chair.

lips of some girls from your class are gapped open at the scene they just witnessed. they cannot believe it and wondered what’s between you and park sunghoon. they are beyond surprise and you can’t help but to just shrug it off. what more if they finds out his three other friends are involve too?

the classes continued normally, or that’s what you try to make yourself believe. the stares from your classmates are often darted at you. still not over about the scene a while ago. it was slowly getting annoying.

while writing down on your paper, you heard a chair being dragged to your side.

“hey,” your head looked over jake who just sat down.

“yeah?”

he tilts his head, “did you have fun?”

your mouth hangs open, what happened a while ago flashes back to your mind instantly because of his question. jake saw it and he grins before scoffing.

“you did.” he touches your chin to make you look up, “your face says it all.” he added and grins, masking the emotion slowly igniting inside his chest.

you gulped and licked your lips.

“j-jake,” you called him.

he raised one of his brows, waiting for what you’re going to say.

“about beomgyu...” your word halts.

the instant change on his mood just proves you that he has something to do with how the boys are treating you. his eyes turned cold, jaw clenching slightly.

“what about him?” his stingy tone rings your head.

“its not what you think—”

“jake.” both of your heads whips to the direction of the voice who called him.

lee heeseung stood by the door, watching you both with his heated gaze. his eyes shifts to yours and it sent direct chills. your head lowering as an automatic response.

“y/n, can you grab these workbooks and help me take it to the student council office?”

envious eyes darted at your direction when he ask you that. you can even hear someone commented that why should it be you. his dark gaze he gave you indicates that you have no other choice but to follow him.

you stood up, jake's eyes stayed and never left you. he watch how you walks towards the table, near his friend. jay and sunghoon seems uninterested as they bicker over something he doesn’t care at all.

“which one should i carry?” you asked heeseung.

he used his chin to point the fewer stacks of workbooks, he took the heavier stacks. he’s the first one to leave the room and you stalked behind him. students in the hallways greets heeseung with amusement through their eyes. they don’t even notice you at all. they’re too focused on him.

when you arrived the student council office, he stops beside the door then glance at you with serious eyes. your stomach churns and suddenly felt agitated.

“place those books here so you can open the door.” he instructed that you obeyed right away.

he didn’t even budge from his position when you place additional weight to what he’s carrying. totally unbothered.

you opened the door for him and hold it so it wouldn’t be on the way. he smoothly walks inside and you remained standing by door, looking at him placing it neatly at the table.

his eyes trailed towards you.

“get inside and lock the door.” he says and you saw him loosening his school tie.

you gulped and instantly felt on edge. he watch how you closed the door and he only looked away after hearing the sound of the lock clicking.

“sit down here, angel.”

angel.

you blushed so hard and its a little crazy how one word affects you so much. the somersault inside your stomach added weigh on your emotions. his heated gaze totally not helping.

“heeseung, about beomgyu...” you started.

his face remained blank. unlike jake, he didn’t show any foul mood or anything. but that slightly bothers you more. heeseung is always calm, very reserved. his mysterious demeanor pulls you more into him, digging a bigger space for your curiosity.

“it wasn’t what you guys think. i know what’s happening these days is somehow connected to him.”

he sighed heavily and tilts his head, “we already warned you and sent him a message.”

the way he talks sounded so calm. like nothing can ever make him nervous or anxious. he never stutters and speaks with so much confidence. he knows what he’s saying and that’s makes him more attractive in people’s eyes. what’s sexier than a man who knows what he wants in life?

“he just told me that he’s sorry—”

“if he’s really sorry then he should just stayed away.” he cuts you off.

you licked your lips and was about to talk again when he lets out a strained sigh.

“enough.”

“i j-just—”

“strip for me.” your mouth hangs open and stared at his eyes.

he looked serious as usual. his eyes silently conveying a message that you’ll get in trouble if you don’t obey him right away. without much of a choice, you start to take off sunghoon’s uniform.

he looked at it with no emotion and brows slightly twitched at the sight of a bruise by your arm. it doesn’t really hurt, but it was evident.

“does it hurt?” his tone full of concern.

you’re quite amused at him, blushing.

“no. don’t worry.”

“he lost control, didn’t he?” his hand reaches for it, caressing it gently like it will aid it. he looks at your eyes, waiting for your answer.

“just f-for a short time...”

he sighs and nods his head. this isn’t the time to talk or think about sunghoon’s bad temper. he tilt his chin, asking you to continue. when you’re left with your underwears he stood up then stared down at you.

“lay down on the table.”

your eyes grew big, hesitant to his request.

“won’t they come here? i thought the student body are busy today...?”

he glanced on your eyes once and it was enough to shut your mouth then do as he says. he offered his hand for assistance. his hand are warm, unlike sunghoon’s. he helped you step on a chair so you can climb on the table.

it feels so awkward sitting on it and having heeseung stand in between your thighs.

“lay down. i want to eat you.” he said so casually that made your core twitch in so much anticipation.

you wanted to curse yourself for how your body reacts to them. this isn’t how it suppose to be. you should protest and tell them off. or even get mad because you thought they’re already interested to a different girl. but... why do you find yourself laying back on the table while lee heeseung is gradually taking your panties off?

“breath, angel.” he smirks and you glanced away feeling guilty. he knew you’ve been holding your breath since you climb to this table.

the feeling of being this naked in front of heeseung is so overwhelming, both in good and bad ways.

“eyes on me.”

his command made you lift your body so you can see him dip his head and spit on your already wet pussy. you pursed your lips, doesn’t want to let out a moan.

he lifts his hand and slide one finger inside. you can feel it so long and warm.

“did he stretch you enough for me?” he whispers so close to your cunt, his hot breath fanning to your wet core.

“heeseung...”

“shh.” he glared at you then added another finger.

“god, this pussy.” he groans and leans in attaching his lips, lapping your cunt.

“heeseung..” you moaned and covers your lips, feeling shy by how you whimper. it sounded pathetic.

the feeling of his hot long tongue grazing and slightly getting inside your hole drives you crazy. your thighs automatically closes, caging his head in between.

he looks at you over his eyelashes, one hand pushed your thigh open. he leans away, “keep it open for me, angel.”

he smirks and placed a kiss on the insides of your thighs, “i know it feels so good, but i want your legs open.”

he grabbed both of your hands, making you hold your legs. you whimpered, feeling frustrated that his lips are not latched on your aching core. he glanced at you and smirks after seeing your desperation.

“patience, angel.”

he then dips his head again and started eating you. it felt so good, he was doing it expertly, making your head all fuzzy.

“oh my gosh,” you moaned and throw your head back after feeling a knot forming inside your stomach.

“i’m c-cumming,”

“really? give it to me.”

and with that you released, legs shaking and eyes tightly shut. heeseung made sure he gets all of your juices, nothing spills. you tried to open your eyes to look at him and the scene was so erotic. heeseung put his lips on your hole and suck it.

“uggh.” your eyes shuts and lips shakes in so much pleasure.

he kept sucking and gave your slit one last long lick. after that, he stood up and wiped off his chin. he looked so satisfied. he helped you get up, head still all clouded with the intense feeling he just gave you.

he then took off his clothes and went to sit down at the sofa. the same couch where jay took you yesterday. he rests his arms and watch you intensely.

“ride me.”

with wobbly legs, you walked towards him. once in reach, he slides his hand on your waist and helps you to get in position. your straddle above him, knees bore at the sofa. he hold you and watch how you reach for his hardened cock. you gave it a few strokes before placing its head near your hole.

“oohh,” you can’t help but to moan.

“slowly...” he whispers, face already on your side. his lips grazes your ears dangerously.

the lust took over you completely, taking control of your mind and actions. you are losing it, just wanted to have him deep inside you. lower lip trapped in between your teeth you slowly sat on heeseung’s long thick cock, moaning as it reaches all the right spots.

“u-uhhh,” your stretched moan made heeseung grin. satisfied at how you’re so eager to have him inside you.

“move, angel. fuck my cock into you.” he whispered full of lust like hypnotizing you.

you started riding him, at first with slow pace until you feel more desperate for him. moaning and gasping as you continued bouncing, not caring if someone from outside hear your shenanigans.

“feel so good.” you mumbled.

“oh yeah? ride faster.”

you obeyed, but your poor stamina and the overstimuation makes you feel so weak. you slump on his lap, cock buried deep inside. your head rested on his shoulder, panting.

“tired already?” he asks softly that you responded with a short nod.

he chuckles and placed a swift kiss on your cheeks. “all right. place your hand on the sofa and lift yourself a bit, angel. i will fuck you myself.”

pulling yourself together, you do as he said. eyes half-lidded drowned in your own desires. heeseung watches with a grin and kisses you once at your lips before starting to rutt his cock to your cunt, his hips moving so fast that you make you a moaning mess.

“o-oh my gosh...” and your forehead rests on his shoulder.

“my baby so weak that he needs me to fuck you myself, hmm?” he bit your earlobe once that made you whimper.

the slapping sounds of your skins so erotic. enough to make you feel the knot inside your stomach once again. your grip on the sofa tighten along with your hole, making the man under you groan in pleasure.

“cumming already?”

you nod while biting your lips so hard. he smirks and kisses you eagerly, feeling himself reaching his climax as well.

“cum with me, angel.”

with a few more hard thrusts from heeseung, you came all over his length and not long after, he follows. groaning so hard while kissing you with furrowed brows. he kept fucking his dick in you while supporting you so you won’t fall.

he pulls away to focus on sliding his cock in and out as you rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling at crook of his neck.

“you’re such a good girl for me. for all of us.” you heard him whisper before placing a sweet kiss at your forehead.

“okay class we will have a group research project and i want you to participate properly in your group. i don’t want to hear some complains.” your teacher in your last period said.

the class reacts and gave their own comments. some already rants, the others being happy to do a group project and even say the people they wanted to work with.

you, on the other hand is resting your head on your table. too tired to even give a care about it. thankfully, the teacher after the lunch break didn’t attend and so you had the chance to take a nap after what you and heeseung did.

the thought itself made you blush so hard.

you teacher started announcing the groups. you tried hard to listen, waiting for your name to be called.

“park jongseong, jake sim, lee heeseung, park sunghoon and (surname) y/n).”

you slowly raised your head, blinking while staring in front. confused if you heard that right. did she just call your name? whose your group mates again?

“damn, she’s so lucky. why does it have to be her?” one of your girl classmates whispered to her friend while giving you a glaring look.

you noticed that the class are now moving seats to gather around by groups. still spacing out, you glanced around. waiting for someone to call you.

jake sim then raised his hand while jay pulls a vacant chair near his. the four pairs of eyes darts at you.

“y/n, come! we’re partners!” jake says excitedly.

your mouth fell open slightly while eyeing their direction. jake’s smile is wide, jay’s smirking along with sunghoon while heeseung eyes you seriously.

‘oh no...’ you thought to yourself.

since you don’t want to be scolded by your teacher, you stood up and slowly head to their direction.

“we’re going to have so much fun...” jake stated meaningfully before winking at you.

tag-list:

@shawnyle @kpopslays

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen imagines #enhypen hyung line #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen park jongseong #enhypen jay smut #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jake smut #enhypen park sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon smut

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sturniqlo · 8 months ago

Text

SHY!MATT AND SHY!READER AU

⛧°。 ⋆༺get to know shy!reader and shy!matt༻⋆。 °⛧

both sfw and nsfw

shy!reader and shy!matt are so fall coded

shy!reader and shy!matt who were each others first for everything and i mean everything

shy!reader and shy!matt who always blush after every kiss, whether it be a peck or a make out session

shy!matt who was so so shy (duhh) to go up to shy!reader when he first laid eyes on her, and once he did he was a mess, stumbling over his words, avoiding eye contact and red as a tomato. she found this cute and was also red as a tomato because she had never gotten that attention from a boy before

shy!reader who always gets into her head about not being good enough for him and shy!matt who always reassures her that's she's everything and more to him.

shy!reader and shy!matt who are lowkey 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓼

shy!matt who is always scared that he's going to rough for her during sex even though he's going the perfect pace, having her a moaning and whimpering mess under him.

shy!reader who always covers her face whenever he eats her out while making eye contact with her and shy!matt who slides his hands up her body to remove her hands from her face so he can see how her eyes roll back and how her jaw slacks

shy!reader and shy!matt who always love to go downtown to walk around while sharing headphones (they have the same music taste) and have a picnic in the park. they like to watch the ducks (especially the baby ones) swim around the pond. shy!matt loves to point at the the duck couple and say "look, pretty. that's us."

shy!reader and shy!matt who hate parties. since they're in college, they get invited by their friends to parties here and there. obviously they go together and they're always awkwardly standing in by the door people watching. his arm around her shoulders rubbing it with his thumb. usually after thirty minutes after 'socializing' they go back to his dorm to watch movies. later, he drives her home.

shy!matt who always waits for her outside of the lecture halls, usually he'll have a iced coffee for her and a vanilla scone or a chocolate croissant. when her class ends, she comes out a huge smile on her face knowing matt was a couple of steps outside of the hall and gives his a kiss on the cheek when she reaches him. his face cherry red at the small action of pda.

shy!reader and shy!matt who always hang out in his dorm because she still lives with her parents (she's less than 20 minutes away from campus, and his roommate is almost never there) and he's not ready to meet her parents, not because he doesn't want to, but because he's afraid that they might not like him (even though he's a copy of her) and because he's shy.

shy!reader and shy!matt who say 'i love you' very early in their relationship because they know they've met their match and are locked in for the rest of their lives.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡

an: can't wait to write for this au!! also, i've never seen anyone write this au before but if someone has written it please don't send any negativity to me because as i said.. i've never read anything like this!! anyways, send me any ideas or questions you have about out shy couple :)) [divider creds to saradika-graphics]

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norrissm · 3 months ago

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⌗ tell her you love her — ln4

friends to lovers. lando pining. fluff. lando realises he loves you and he’s loved you all along. a late night confession at a phonebooth, will it change it all? kiss her you fool by kids that fly. ★ LIBRARY

lando isn’t thinking. he’s running.

under the blazing street lights and the cacophony of the night, lando’s footsteps are heavy on the concrete. the cold no match for the fire ablaze within his heart. he had to talk to you.

the realization had hit him like a freight train—hard and unstoppable, leaving destruction in its wake. except the wreckage is only in his chest, where his heart beats too fast, too loud, like it’s been waiting for this moment all along.

he doesn’t care his phone is dead. his car is parked blocks away. he needs to call you.

he needs to tell you he loves you.

it was a story to tell, the way both of you met. the early years of university still fresh in his mind— the day he’d stumbled into the lecture, late and out of breath, sliding into the seat next to you. with a walk too self-assured for someone who didn’t know what was going on.

“what class is this again?” he’d asked you, looking into your eyes for the first time, seeing them roll as you answered. a friendship blossomed from that day.

from that day on, lando has been a constant in your life. study sessions that somehow turned into late-night drives, shared coffee orders written in terrible handwriting, and inside jokes that no one else could understand. you were each other’s plus-one to every party, the first person to be called when something exciting happened, the one to show up with ice cream and bad movies when things weren’t so great.

and just maybe you felt what he did too?

he sprints, sneakers slapping against the pavement, breath short, mind racing. his phone is dead, and his car is too far, but there—tucked between flickering streetlights—a blue phone booth. a small piece of paper, worn out and brown, stuck to it which read “tell her you love her fool”. lando could all but laugh at himself.

he fumbles for change, shoves it into the slot with shaking hands, and dials your number by memory. the silence stretched out louder than he could wait for.

“hello?” you’re groggy voice resounded. “it’s me” lando breathed. grip tightening over the phone. “lando?” your voice confused, questioned. “what is it? are you okay?”

“i love you.” there. he’d said it.

at a phone booth in the middle of the night on a street he didn’t know the name of, his stubbornness out the window and all heed to the wind. how’d he end up here from the bar he was at? he didn’t know. all he knew in this moment of a summer night was all he did. he loved you. that was enough.

maybe, just maybe he was scared too. scared of losing a friend, a partner in crime, a hug that felt warmer than home — someone he couldn’t stand loving from afar.

“you woke me up to tell me that?”

a breathless chuckle escapes him, a mixture of nerves and something dangerously close to hope. “yeah,” he admits. “i couldn’t wait.”

and then he hears it—your smile in your voice. “good,” you murmur. “because i love you too.”

and just like that, the world outside stops mattering.

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bluewxrld07 · 2 months ago

Text

I'm The Problem (Luke Hughes)

Summary: Luke isn't the happiest camper post his shoulder surgery, and he feels at a loss at the fact he needs help doing almost everything. His best friend Y/N has been there every step of the way, but takes a step back after Luke get overstimulated

Warning(s): angst, yelling/cursing, crying, lack of self-worth

"For fucks sake."

Luke was annoyed to say the absolute least.

After getting an injury towards the end of the season, especially during playoffs, he felt like he let down the team at the one time where it counted most.

The surgery went smooth and well, it was the recovery that was taking a toll on him. He was a someone who liked the faster healing process rather than sitting on being patient. Only in certain cases that is, which this one happens to be part of.

He always looked forward to the summertime because he got to see his friends back home, stay at the lakehouse, golf and skate freely without the pressure on him.

Now he could barely do any of that without his injury causing some sort of issue. Don't even get him started on the sling. He hated that thing with a burning passion.

Y/N though, was there to help pick him back up when he needed it most.

She managed to take time off of work for a couple weeks during the week of his surgery to help him, especially since Jack was still in recovery from his own.

Luke didn't think he'd be able to get through anything without her around, she was an angel in disguise for him post surgery.

That was at first.

The more and more Luke figured out he couldn't do while in Michigan, the more frustrated and overwhelmed he began to feel. He couldn't swing a golf club, put on clothes properly, wash his hair, drive a car (or boat for that matter). It was beginning to piss him off as time went on.

Y/N would cut in to help him whenever she could see the annoyance reaching his eyes.

The time he was trying to open one of his meal prep containers, tongue sticking out as he grumbled at it not opening.

So Y/N walked over and softly grabbed it from his hands. "I got it, it's okay." she assures him with a soft smile, opening it with a pop and handing it back to him.

"Thank you pretty girl," he chuckles dryly.

Luke first started off mumbling out 'thank you's and now he barely said a thing when she'd cut in. He would either scoff or stomp away like a toddler.

Y/N understood how helpless Luke felt, as having a knee surgery a few years back that caused her to be bedridden for a month or two. it was hard to see everyone doing stuff for you around you when all you wanted to do was accomplish it on your own.

What Luke didn't know was how exhausted Y/N was. Not mentally, but physically. She was up every night the week post his surgery, making sure to switch out his ice packs, bandages, meds, you name it.

She only got a couple hours of sleep realistically each night during that time. She would never complain about it, because she wanted to make the process easy on Luke.

It was now the summertime in which meant she was done with college for the time being until fall, so she was also joining the boys at the lakehouse as per tradition. Not only to make sure Luke had the help he needed, but to also see her other favorite friends she hadn't seen in a bit as they were all traveling for work too.

It was another early morning in the Hughes lakehouse, she was just returning from her workout session and grocery shopping when she could hear the quiet commotion of some of the boys awake in the kitchen.

She smiles warmly as she sets down both arms that are full of grocery bags, nicely onto the counter. Dylan Duke, Cole and Quinn were all awake and made their ways over to the girl to help unpack everything.

"You're all awake earlier than usual." she jokes, opening a bottle of water.

"We decided to run this morning, and we were the only ones who actually got up at our alarms to go." Cole mentions, making her chuckle lightly.

"Should've came and joined my class today. Totally would've made you sweat your asses off, but totally worth how you feel afterwards." She says after she swallows a sip of her drink.

Quinn gives her a look, and points at her. "Absolutely not, I've seen how scary Hot Pilates can be." he denies as he puts groceries away.

"Oh come on it isn't that bad. You gotta try it before you hate on it!" she argues, Dylan laughing at her statement.

"We choose life sweetheart," Cole laughs. "Besides us men can't be seen dying in a class like that. Let's be real." Dylan adds. Y/N rolls her eyes playfully.

"Besides," Quinn buds in. "Luke was about to go insane if he didn't get out of this house somehow and do something more productive."

Y/N raises her brow. "He went running too?"

The boys nodded. "How'd he feel after that?" she says, going to sit at one of the barstools and crossing one leg over the other.

Quinn puts a hand over his neck and slides it across as if to signal not to ask. She purses her lips. "That bad huh?"

Dylan sighs. "He ended up stopping halfway through and walking the rest of the way because the motion kept killing his shoulder. He was red in the face by the time he got back to the house, and it wasn't just from how warm it is outside."

Y/N rubs a hand over her face. "Did he take any of his painkillers? I left them on his nightstand this morning before I left."

Dylan shrugs his shoulders. "No idea. He was too crabby to talk to, so I have no idea."

"You know I'm not deaf right?" Luke's voice booms into the kitchen, his back turned towards them all as he goes to sit on the couch.

He was dressed in a pair of athletic shorts and a plain navy blue t-shirt, his sling over his body and hair still slightly damp from his shower.

Y/N looks at the boys, trying to hide her amused smile as they are. They decide to keep putting stuff away for Y/N while she looks back at Luke who is hunched over and tense.

She hops off the chair and makes her way towards him and rounds the couch to sit next to the blond boy.

He is staring forward, knee bouncing as if he is contemplating in his head.

"How're you feeling Lu?" she asks cautiously.

Luke just grimaces. "Sore." Is all he responds with.

"Did you take some of your meds?"

"Yeah I did when I got back."

"Why didn't you take them before?"

Luke just lets out a loud huff and rolls his eyes, standing up his spot and walking into the kitchen to join the boys conversation.

Y/N frowns at his mood change, knowing no matter how frustrated he got, he never shut her down like that. Instead of bombarding him she ignores it and stands up herself.

"I'm gonna go shower, and then what is the plan today?" she asks.

Cole scratches his head. "Uhhh I think we're going to do the boat for like an hour or two, and then Jack was saying we should hit up this new juice place. He said it's similar to Jamba Juice or something, but it's like the protein juice things."

She gives a thumbs up before walking away towards Luke's room to grab a change of clothes before heading to shower.

Once she finishes and she's dressed, she heads back down the stairs to now see everyone was awake and music was softly playing in the background as they all conversed.

Jack saw her and smiled before pulling her in for a bear hug. "Goodmorning sunshine."

"More like good afternoon now sir." she chuckles, and Jack rolls his eyes as he looks down at her when they break apart. "Hey I forgot I told them I would join this morning, I like my sleep."

"Oh I know. I said you guys should've just joined my workout class this morning."

Jack snorts. "Absolutely not, I choose life my dear Y/N."

"That's what I told her!" Dylan points out, mouthful of food.

"You're a bunch of wimps." she laughs as she goes to grab the cooler off of Quinn's hands.

"Let's get this show on the road now shall we? We're wasting daylight!" she says before heading towards the sliding door.

They all began to slowly follow behind the girl, her letting them all pass to make sure the door was shut before they left. Luke was the last to leave, his face still a bit more droopy. His eyes caught hers, and she gave him a soft, warm smile. "You ready to go?" she says.

"I'm here aren't I?" he says with an annoyed tone, making her smile fall slightly but she tries to hide it and just nods.

"I brought some of your stuff just incase you start to hurt while we're out there." she says, and he just nods.

"You feeling okay Luke?" she finally asks as they walk side by side.

"Yes I'm fine, stop asking." he says in a short tone, earning a frown from Y/N.

"Watch the tone I'm only asking because I care." she shoots back, and watches his face fall slightly.

"Sorry. I'm sorry you're right. I'm just really sore today." he says with a sigh, and she nods. "That's okay. It's normal. I get it." is all she answers with a tight smile.

The rest of the way onto the boat is quiet between them both, Luke deciding to catch up to Duke and talk with him as they got onto the boat.

Jack helped grab the cooler and Y/N's wrist to help her onto the boat, the girl smiling thankfully at him as she stepped onto the wobbly platform.

She went to go sit across from Luke instead of next to him like she usually would, just to give him a bit of space as she's noticed his mood has been a bit more negative with her.

Luke doesn't say anything as he sees her sit across from him, only eyeing her as he talks to Duke who sits on one side of him. She gives him a tight-lipped smile before looking away and starts to talk with Cole and Trevor, Quinn being the designated driver for the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ouch Trevor! Move your fat ass over!" Y/N laughs out, pushing the boy over to his side of the booth, rolling her eyes as he playfully dramatized her actions with a fake pout.

The other boys get back with everyone's drinks, Y/N thanking Quinn as he handed her what she ordered before she takes a sip.

The group all converses amongst one another, discussing the plans for the summer and all the concerts they have all planned while sipping and munching on food and drinks.

"So Y/N you gonna have any dates while you're out here this summer?" Cole teases, earning a look from her with an amused smile.

"Yeah absolutely not. Remember how that went last summer?"

"Which one? The one that stood you up and said his fish died, or the one that ordered for you?" he jokes.

"Both actually," she chuckles while sipping on her drink.

"Yeah I remember when you texted the chat saying how the dumbass had been already sitting at a table with food ordered by the time you got there."

"Wait what? He already had it ordered?" Jack snorts.

She nods with a laugh. "Oh yeah. Basically gave me the house salad that comes with his order. So didn't even order me something for myself." she says, the guys all laughing.

Luke rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he remembers that day. She felt so annoyed and so pissed off, and she was starving after that ended.

"Never again. If I go on a date at all this summer, it's because it's with the guy I'd actually want to go on one with." she admits, making the boys all snap their heads to her.

"Wait," Trevor says, mouthful of chips. "There actually is a guy you have your eyes on??" he questions, and she nods with a raised brow.

"Who?" Duke pries, and she shrugs her shoulders while stirring her drink.

Her eyes scan the group, Jack giving her a knowing look and she just averts his gaze. "Oh come on you've gotta give us something." Cole groans, and she shakes her head.

"Nope not this year."

"Why not?"

"Because everytime I tell you guys, I feel like I jinx it because then they ghost me right after!"

"I doubt this one would." Quinn hums out, making her snap her head towards him and his shrugs.

"What? It's true!"

"Quinn knows?! Why does Quinn know?" Trevor whines.

"She didn't tell me, I just figured it out." he laughs, and she points at him with a nod.

"He's right."

"Well then now you have to tell us." Trevor begs, and she shakes her head with a laugh.

"What does Golfing look like this week?" she says to change the subject. The guys easily grab onto the bait and start discussing what they had in mind, her eyes drifting towards Luke who sat in the corner of the booth.

He was in his own world, gnawing on his straw as he tries to listen to the group converse. She can tell he is in his own mind.

She lightly nudges his leg underneath the table, causing him to snap out of his daze and look over at her. "You feeling alright?" she asks a little bit more on the quiet side, not to disturb the group of boys in front of them.

He rolls his eyes. "Y/N when are you going to stop asking me that? It's really not necessary." His gaze going back to the boys.

"You just seem off, and I want to make sure you're okay. Or that if your shoulder is bugging you-"

"I'm not a pussy I can handle the soreness and pain that comes with my injury, alright? Knock it off." he snaps quietly, his eyes burning over towards hers.

She looks at him in disbelief, stunned at the words that just came out of his mouth.

"Fuck me I guess." she mumbles back before deciding to ignore his energy, ignoring the look he throws her way after she says that, indulging in the new topic the boys were now caught into.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Once they had arrived home from the juice place, Y/N was at a breaking point.

After how Luke had treated her throughout the day, she began to realize something was seriously wrong with him. She couldn't figure out what it was.

She knew he had been frustrated about his injury in general, but she didn't know why it was getting worse whenever she came around.

The boys all went to sit down in the livingroom as the rain started to slowly come down. The soft patters being heard on the rooftop of the house.

They turned on some country music while connecting the PS5 to the giant TV screen. Y/N had gone into the kitchen to go and grab herself something to eat and something to drink, setting it onto the kitchen island as she also went and prepped Luke's meds he was supposed to take every evening like clockwork.

The glass of water fills up and she tries to hide the shaking in her hands, both from exhaustion and anxiety because of what's going on with Luke.

She shook the tension away that was forming between them, and put on a fake facade while walking over to the boys.

"You going to come and join us for a round?" Cole asks, motioning towards the video games on the screen.

She smiles and nods. "Yes I will. Just give me a few minutes."

Y/N walks towards the other big couch where Luke was sitting with Duke and Jack, softly putting her hand on his good shoulder. He whipped his head towards her before rolling his eyes.

"Hey I have your meds, and I grabbed you a water to help get them down-"

"I don't need it."

"Luke you know you're supposed to take these or you can't sleep." she pries with a frown.

He huffs and decides to ignore her, starting to talk to Duke and Jack again. The boys give her a reassuring look before looking back at Luke.

"Luke, take them. You know how you get without them. If you take them later you're going to get sick." she tries again soft but stern.

Luke still doesn't acknowledge her, so she lets out a huff.

"Luke I swear if you don't take these-"

"Oh my fucking fuck Y/N just stop! I said No!"

"Luke I know you don't want to, but your surgeon says you need-"

"I don't give a fuck! I am sick of taking those and I am sick of you breathing down my neck and forcing those down my throat. Seriously knock it the fuck off!" he snaps, making the room quiet and look at the pair.

His eyes are now staring up at hers with a sharp glare, hers frowning down at him in confusion.

"Luke what the fuck is your issue? I'm just trying to help you-"

"Well fucking stop helping! I don't need your help, or you! You're insufferable! You breathe down my neck at every single moment of every single fucking day and it's annoying. You're like a clingy girlfriend who won't hop off my dick. Seriously stop, just stop!" he yells out, and begins to stand up.

Only when he stands up, his good shoulder hits her hands that were frozen in place with the glass and pills. Before she can react, the glass and pills spill from her hands and crash onto the hardwood floor, glass shattering everywhere.

It was so silent that you could've heard a pin drop. Y/N is frozen as she looks at the mess on the ground, hands shaking as her anxiety increases, hands frozen in their spot where she was once holding things.

She could feel the tears forming, lip quivering.

"Y/N" Jack's voice perks up slowly.

"Y/N are you okay?" Jack asks slowly once again. She snaps out of her daze, and sniffles putting on a fake smile.

She nods quickly and her arms fall to their sides.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine, I'm good. I uh I'm just going to clean this up and head to bed." she says before walking quickly to the kitchen to grab the cleaning supplies.

Jack is the first to stand up and follow behind her to the closet.

She's letting out a few huffs and sniffles when he sees her, shakily grabbing the broom and dust pan. Jack grabs them from her hands and says her name softly to have her look up at him.

"I got it. It's okay." he says to her in an assuring tone.

She looks into his eyes for a second, Jack seeing the heartbreak hitting her eyes as tears fall freely.

"I got the mess. Okay?" he says one more time, and she wipes her eyes.

"Okay." she sighs before leaving the room quickly and rushing up the stairs.

When Jack emerges from the closet and over towards the mess on the ground, his eyes glared over at Luke who was still standing and facing where Y/N once stood.

"You're a fucking asshole, Luke." he growls out. Luke sighs and lets his head fall.

"That was a dick move. Real dick move bro, she's been there for you the most out of anybody." Duke adds in, Luke running his hands through his hair.

"Well she hasn't left me alone for one fucking minute! I was losing my mind okay? This recovery has fucking sucked." he sputter out, sitting back down and putting his face into one hand.

"Do you know how much shit she has done for you? She didn't sleep a wink when she was one jersey during your first week post surgery." Jack admits.

"What do you mean?" Luke says.

"She stayed up a majority of every night in case you woke up in pain, or in case you needed something other than your doses of your meds. She was the one who would fill the kitchen with your favorite snacks. Your favorite drinks. She was the one who has dropped everything to take you to PT and your surgical follow ups. She hasn't slept since your surgery, because she wants to make sure this recovery is as easy as it can be for you!" Jack bursts, red in the face.

Luke sighs. "Fuck." he winces.

"Dude if you weren't injured right now I'd fucking smack you silly." Quinn scoffs.

"I don't care if you're injured, I'm still debating on doing it." Jack says.

Luke felt like shit. It was all hitting him now.

The times he caught her already awake at five in the morning. The tired red eyes she would have, bags very prominent underneath. The little naps she would take on his lap during the day. Her forgetting to eat because she was so caught up on preparing his food. Missing nights out with her girlfriends to be there for his appointments and PT.

Now he knows he has fucked up in the past, but he really fucked up in this moment. He fucked up terribly.

"I'd be so surprised if you're able to fix this one. You really hurt her, Luke." Jack says, a tired tone being heard in his voice.

"I really fucking hurt her. Fuck I fucked up bad." he groans out, feeling his face get hot and eyes gloss over.

All of their ears perked up when they hear the front door shut, Jack's eyes darting back over to Luke with a scowl as his own face had a fearful look going.

Silence follows as the boys watch Jack drop the supplies in his hands and scurry towards the entryway and open the door.

The door slams shut and Jack comes stomping back.

He points at Luke. "I'm gonna beat your ass." he snaps walking over towards his brother, Cole and Trevor walking towards him and pull him back. Luke stands up.

"What? Why? What happened?"

"She's gone."

Luke's eyes widen, soon rounding the couch and running up the stairs and towards his room.

He slams the door open on turns on the light, frowning when he sees her stuff is still on her side of his bed still in the messy clean form it was in this morning.

He rushes down the stairs. "Her stuff is still here." he says.

Jack is running his hand through his hair while the other is sitting on his hip.

"You better go find her. You better fucking find her, or hope she fucking comes back in one piece. If not, it's your head that will be on a stick by morning."

Luke glares at Jack at his sudden protectiveness over Y/N. "Since when do you get so protective over her? What's your fucking deal?"

"Because that girl is one you shouldn't treat like shit or throw away! She's one that you keep around forever, Luke. That girl is so fucking in love with you and you fucking blew it!" Jack says, his voice raising with every word he says.

Luke freezes.

"Wait, what?"

Jack bites his lip. "Fuck," he hisses. "I wasn't supposed to say that."

"Since when? How long have you known this?" Luke says, his anger now rising.

"No you don't get to fucking be the one who is pissed off! You don't get to act like that!" Quinn buds in.

Luke glares at his older brother. "You knew too? Are you fucking joking? Why-"

"Alright fucking enough! This isn't what we should be fighting about, what we should be doing is figuring out how the fuck Luke is going to fix things with Y/N." Trevor bursts out, making everyone turn over to him in shock.

Trevor throws his hands up in the air. "Yeah I know. Trevor of all people saying you guys need to calm the fuck down, but seriously I'm the only one that is also willing to see that we have a bigger issue to fix right now."

"Luke you need to figure out what you're going to say and do to fix this," Trevor instructs while pointing at him. He then points at the other boys. "You guys can sort your shit out afterwards. Y/N comes first right now."

Luke huffs, knowing he really had to sort his shit out. He royally fucked up badly, and this was the girl he cared about more than anyone else who existed in his life.

Jack was right. She was a forever girl.

He just hoped that she would still be there after all of this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Y/N arrived home, it was late. WayI late.

She knew it was way late when all of the boys were sleeping, and the lights were all off inside the house. The outdoor porch light glowing a dark orange as she approached the front door.

Sniffles left her lips as she tried to stay as quiet as she could while opening the door, silently closing and locking it behind her.

The girl kicks her shoes off and lines them up at the door with all the other pairs of shoes there, setting her keys on the group key hanger before padding into the kitchen.

She turns on the dimmer lighting, hoping to not let it be too bright to wake any of the boys whom were sleeping on the main floor bedrooms.

When she opened the fridge she saw her leftovers that she was going to eat earlier that night sitting right in the smack-dab front, a note adorning the top of the lid.

Made sure nobody touched it. I hope you're home safely

-Quinn

She sighs before placing the note on the counter, opening up the container and grabbing a fork as she decides to just eat it cold to not worry about waking up anyone in the house.

Y/N brings the bowl over to one of the living room couches and eats in absolute silence, her mind running in circles as it has been all night. She thought maybe going for a drive and then stopping at the beachfront of the lake next to theirs would be a way to somewhat clear her mind a bit.

As she sat there alone with her thoughts once more, she couldn't help but break down into more tears.

Her container falls onto the coffee table as she lets the tears fall freely, putting her head into her hands as she lays herself on her side. Her chest feeling heavy as her heart breaks over again.

She couldn't believe Luke had really said those things. Really thought that about her especially.

Was she really that clingy? That much of a nuisance to Luke? Was she just causing more harm than good to him right now? Should she just leave the lakehouse in the morning was the real question.

She didn't know what to do.

Tears kept falling freely as she lay there on the couch, curled into a ball, rubbing her arms up and down.

Her eyes suddenly started to feel heavier, her sobs turning into soft hiccups, tears drying on her face that was red, splotchy and puffy. She let her eyes slowly close, her mind trying to be silenced by sleep.

Which slowly does take over.

Y/N soon is fast asleep on the couch, no blanket or pillow covering her as she was too caught up in her mind to notice.

Little did she realize that her container falling onto the table caused a loud enough noise for the oldest Hughes brother to stun awake and head out to the kitchen to see what was happening.

He squints around, then does s double take when he sees a small form curled up on the couch while little hiccups left their mouth. He walks over, his heart clenching as he sees Y/N shaking from crying so much while being fast asleep.

He grabs her bowl and puts the rest back into the fridge for her tomorrow, then walking back over to the girl and picking her up slowly to not disturb the much needed slumber she needs.

Quinn looks down at her, seeing how torn her face looked even in her sleep. If thoughts could kill in that moment, he was sure Luke would be dead in an instant.

Once he is back into his room, he quietly shuts the door and brings her over to lay in his bed. He sets her down softly and cover her up with his comforter, kissing her head softly. "I'm so sorry he did this to you." he whispers out, knowing she couldn't hear him.

He sighs before standing up and walking over to his side of the bed and getting in. Once his light is turned off he is laying on his side and keeps his distance from Y/N so she has her space, before he himself slowly falls back into a deep slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Her car is here so she had to come back. There is no way she would just disappear." Luke says as he paces around. "She didn't come sleep in my room last night."

"Well I wouldn't blame her is she decided to sleep somewhere else too. I wouldn't want to be near you either after being told all of that." Duke says, earning a look from Luke. His friend put his hands up in defense.

Jack, Cole and Trevor were all out that morning picking up some of Y/N favorites in opes that they could try to make her feel a bit better, while Luke was conjuring up what he was going to do and say to Y/N to at least get on a path towards fixing things between them both.

"Where would she have gone? She hates sleeping in other beds. She says they're not as comfortable, and I'm the only one in the house that has a fan. Because she can't sleep without one." Luke bombards, biting his nails.

"Well I think after how much she cried out last night, her body will be out for quite some time with no fan or your bed needed." Quinn's voice perks up, the boys waltzing into the kitchen with a yawn.

Luke stops pacing and looks at Quinn.

"What do you mean? Where is she? Is she safe?"

Quinn shushes his brother with a look and a hand motion to shut him up.

"Yes she is fine. She's asleep in my room-"

"What the fuck-"

"No don't start that shit. She wouldn't be in there in the first place if you didn't act like a bitch and go off on her like you did last night." Quinn chirps before Luke can say another word. "So yeah she is sleeping in my room. I woke up because I heard her come home, she passed out from crying so much on the couch, so I carried her to sleep in my room. You need to get over yourself if you're going to even have a chance at fixing the mess you made." Quinn admits.

Luke knows he is right. Quinn might've been the more quiet and reserved one out of the three brothers, but when he was mad or driven about something, people listened because he wasn't bullshitting in any way.

Luke decided to keep his mouth shut and put his good hand on his hip.

"So what do I do? Where do I start?" he asks, and Quinn shuts the fridge to turn to his brother.

"You need to apologize. Really apologize, hear her out, and be fucking honest." Quinn instructs. "You want a chance at being with the one girl I know you're just as obsessed with as she is with you, then you need to lay every fucking thing out. Don't bullshit any of it, Luke." Quinn explains, letting his little brother take in his words.

"But for now, you need to let her sleep. She looked so exhausted. Let her sleep and take her time. Don't immediately jump her throat when she so much as walks out here." He finishes before disappearing from the kitchen to go outside.

Duke looks at Luke and nods. "I think he's right. He said it better than I could've."

So that's what Luke did.

He left to go golfing with the boys. He left to go out on the boat. He left to go into town for lunch. He gave her space. He didn't want to do what Quinn said would make her feel pressured. He kept his distance.

Throughout that day, he slowly started to realize just how much her presence was meant for their group. Meant for him. He never realized how important she became for him especially with all of his post surgery things. She did keep him in check for good reasons.

He was stressed out every time he forgot to take his meds. Or when he forgot to do his PT exercises. Or when he especially forgot to switch out his ice packs.

She really did make it an easier process for him. Every single thing she was doing wasn't to be a pain in his ass or cling onto him, it was to make it easier on him.

He groans at the thought, knowing he really wished he could've just shut his trap the night before, but of course his pain and soreness and helplessness made him lash out on the one person who made this whole thing so much simpler for him.

The boys all sat around the fire pit later that night, music playing softly while they all sat amongst one another and talked. The sun was nearly gone, crickets and frogs being heard around the lake as well as a few loons.

The talking simmered when the group heard the sliding door slowly opening, they all snapped their heads over to see the familiar girl's face appear.

She looked like she was fresh out of the shower, her hair damp and face free of makeup as she shut the door behind her.

She was wearing a pair of gray sweats and a UMich Hockey sweatshirt, one that looked like it might've been Luke's that she took a while ago.

Her hands were hiding in the big sleeves of the sweater as she walked down to join them, some of the boys letting frowns form on their faces as they see her face still puffy from the night before.

They all snap out of their frowns when her eyes rise up to look at them with the fakest smile Luke had ever seen on her.

"There's my favorite girl." Jack is the first to speak up warmly, wrapping her up in his arms as she went and sat down. All the other boys warmly greeted and cheered when she sat down, Y/N smiling at them as she took a deep breath.

"I made you one," Trevor says as he hands her one of his famous s'mores. She looks over at him.

"How'd you know?" she asks, and he shrugs with a wink.

"I told you, I've got that twin telepathy." Trevor jokes in a cocky tone, earning an amused look from the girl before she thanks him and blows him a kiss.

"See? Y'all see that? I got a kiss before you guys!" he sings out, making all the guys groan and swat at him as he does a funny little dance.

"I take it back." Y/N says, earning an awestruck Trevor.

"No take-backsies!" he pouts before going to sit back in his spot.

Her eyes never met Luke's, the boy silently begging for her to look at him just once. She never did.

The group all kept on their conversations, trying to distract from the obvious tension going on as they all didn't want to make Y/N anymore uncomfy than she probably felt.

Luke tried hard not to get jealous or annoyed at Jack or Trevor when they would be close to Y/N, as he knew they were only doing it to make her smile and feel better. He just couldn't help but feel that way as he wished it was him making her that way.

But he was the reason she wasn't smiling. Why her face was puffy. So he deserved that at payback. He deserved way worse to be honest.

As the night began to near its end, each boys lowly trailed their ways inside, Y/N and Luke being the last two to be sitting near the fire. Y/N wanted to enjoy the night, as bonfires were something that made her feel anchored and helped her decompress.

Luke kept his distance, only staying on the left side of her across the fire. His eyes hadn't really left her figure the entire night.

At that moment he decided he couldn't wait any longer. The suspense was killing him slowly. So he cleared his throat, watching as she didn't move a muscle.

"Um," he squeaks out. "You-you can take my bed tonight. If you want. I-I know you usually can't sleep without a fan, a-and that you prefer my bed because it helps elevate your back." he stutters out quietly.

Y/N keeps her gaze on the fire, and just nods. Luke feels his chest tighten.

He clears his throat once again.

"I-I um," he starts once more. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry-"

Y/N stands up before he can finish, soon walking away from the fire.

He watches her walk away in silence, watching as she disappears back inside the house. Luke lets out a shaky sigh, before standing up himself and using the pot of water next to the pit to put out the fire before soon making his way back up to the house himself.

When he reaches his room, he prays that she took his offer, the boy wanting to use the excuse of grabbing pajamas in case she was in there.

His bed was empty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day came by quicker than expected, and Luke was feeling at a loss.

Y/N had been ignoring him all day.

He had gotten up before the sun, went and picked up her favorite flowers, coffee and protein iced tea she loves, as well as her favorite bagel spot. He had even drove across town to get her the coffee grounds from a cafe that donates used coffee grounds to use for gardening, as he knows she loves using them when she does her planting at the lakehouse for Ellen and herself.

When she had come down that morning to get herself some breakfast, her face had contorted into all kinds of reactions.

Shock, awe, happiness, confusion, sadness and then nothing. It turned into nothing when she saw Luke creep in and giving her a look of hope.

She didn't acknowledge him once, but he knew he had gotten to her as she did indulge in the breakfast, coffee and iced tea he got her.

That was when Luke knew he had a chance to get her back.

Until the rest of the day had gone on.

She so much as did not look his way, acknowledge anything that had to do with him. She acted as if he didn't exist. Luke didn't know what to do. He couldn't talk to her as she wouldn't even try and be near him.

She either stuck to Jack or Cole's side for the day.

The evening was far from over too, and Luke was just ready to go to bed in that moment.

Especially now.

They were currently out at one of the dive bar clubs in the area, the music was loud and the place was packed.

Which also meant that Y/N was drunker than a sailor on a pirate ship.

She had been dancing and singing loudly to any and all of the songs, having any of the boys come dance with her as time went on. Luke stayed in his spot at the bar by Quinn, who looked very amused by her actions as she was spun around by Trevor.

"Have you gotten to talk to her yet?" Quinn says over the loud music.

Luke shook his head with a pout. "She's acting as if I don't exist."

Quinn uses his lips. "Do you blame her? You broke her heart. Especially after you said you'd never do that."

Luke huffs. "Yeah I know."

"Keep trying. That's all I'll say. You still have a shot. I know deep down she wants you to keep fighting."

"I'm trying. But she makes it so hard."

"She's worth it though?" Quinn trails off, and Luke thinks for a second. He then nods.

"Yeah. Yeah she is."

Trevor then runs up to them, drunkenly stumbling around as he reaches them. "Y/N disappeared outside. I think she's throwing up. I would go get her, but I'm not too far behind her." he says before disappearing back into the crowd.

Luke looks over at Quinn before he makes his way outside, eyes scanning for the familiar figure and spots her over at the corner by the bushes and hunched over.

He scurries over to her, using his good arm to caress her back as she throws up. He then takes her hair as best as he can with the one hand, and holds it back.

When she finishes dry heaving she turns and does a double take when she sees it's Luke.

She stumbles a little as she tries to push him away. "No, I don't want you." she slurs, dry heaving once more.

"Y/N stop focus on getting this out of your system right now. Quinn is coming with water." he says, and she shakes her head trying to get away from his grasp.

She forget that he still has a hold on her hair, and he gently pulls on it to keep her in her place. "You can hate me the most tomorrow, but I'm not letting you pass out after dry heaving for ten minutes. So it's me or the concrete."

"I choose the concrete."

"Y/N"

She drunkenly giggles at her comment, only to be stopped as she starts throwing up again. Luke keeps her hair back, his eyes looking back to see Quinn coming up with the bottled water.

He hands it to his younger brother. "I'm going to grab the boys and the car. I'll be back." he says before jogging back inside.

Once Y/N finishes her second round, she tries to stand straight but wobbles in the process. Luke is quick to catch her, only almost failing as his sling holds his bad arm back from fully being able to stabilize her.

He makes a dumb decision, but in that moment he was more focused on her.

He takes off his sling and lets it fall to the ground, Y/N watching the action and pout when she sees his sling fall to the ground. She points at it. "Your sling. You shouldn't be taking that off." she slurs out with a hiccup.

He shakes his head. "Not my concern right now, I'm more focused on keeping you upright. I don't need you passing out on me again." he tries to lighten the mood, only getting a scowl from her.

"Okay tough crowd." he mumbles, looking behind them to see any sign of Quinn.

"I'm serious-" she hiccups "put it back on. You can't have that off." she hiccups again as she bends down to try and get it.

"Y/N dammit leave it. I'll deal with my dumb decisions tomorrow."

"Like you other decision you made two days ago?"

His heart sinks at her words, seeing her eyes become big as she looks up at him. "Y/N look," he starts. "I'd love to have this conversation, and tell you how much I regret saying those things to you, but I want you sober for that. I'm not going to take advantage when you are probably seeing two of me."

"Hey! How'd you know that? Do you have my vision or something?" she whines, and he rolls his eyes trying to not laugh at her.

Before he knows it, Quinn is pulling around the corner to meet them. Luke brings her up to his car when he parks it, Quinn rushing up to grab her and he frowns at Luke as he looks down at his empty shoulder.

"Dude what are you doing? Put that back on!"

"I will, chill alright? I was more focused on trying to make sure she didn't fall face first onto the pavement." he says as he goes to grab the sling and carefully put it back on, trying to ignore the burning pain going up and down his collarbone.

It was a quiet ride home, as most of the drunk ones were already sleeping, the others just tired from the day they've had.

Once they were pulled into the driveway, Quinn hops out and goes to grab Y/N while Jack and Cole who are both not super drunk but are definitely past being buzzed, grab Trevor.

"Put her in my bed. I'm sleeping on the couch." Luke says to Quinn when they get inside. Instead of arguing, he nods and brings her up the stairs.

Luke follows behind, needing to go and grab some pajamas and his painkillers for the night. Once Quinn has set her in bed, Luke goes to turn on the fan for her watching as she snuggles closer into his sheets.

"She loves you still, you know." Quinn says softly, making Luke turn towards his eldest brother.

Luke gives him a pursed smile and nods, getting the same action back from Quinn before he leaves.

The blond boy slowly, and painfully, changes into a pair of sweats before going over to his bed to grab his pillow only to freeze when he sees Y/N's eyes looking up at him.

"You okay?" he asks.

"You hate when I ask you that, so don't ask me that." she snaps, her words still slurring.

He nods slowly. "I deserve that."

"You deserve a lot worse."

"Yes I do."

She stares at him, her eyes squinting at him as she watches him slowly try to take off his sling for bed. She doesn't miss the way his face winces at the pain he is definitely feeling after what he did.

"Where are you going?" she asks as she watches him head for his door. He points at it. "Downstairs. I'm going to go and sleep downstairs. Give you your space."

"Stay." she says, making him frown.

"Please." she slurs out softly, watching him fight with his mind. She watches as he slowly walks back over and cautiously gets into his side of the bed just incase she changes her mind.

"Just keep your distance." she says quickly and he nods.

"I know."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning Luke was hurting like a bitch.

He tried his best to not wince and hiss when he woke up, not wanting to awaken the girl next to him.

When he finally got out of bed and down he stairs, he saw Quinn and Jack both in the kitchen talking. Jack was sitting on one of the barstools while Quinn was putting together breakfast.

They both looked over when they heard him coming in, seeing him hold his sling out signaling he needed help putting it on.

"That was a dumb move you made." Quinn says, and Luke rolls his eyes.

"Yeah well I was more concerned for her than I was about my arm. I'll live." he shoots back, thanking Jack as he finishes adjusting it for Luke.

"What happened?" Jack asks.

"Y/N was at her throwing up point where she can't end to pass out from dry heaving too much," Luke says before pouring himself a cup of coffee. "So I took my sling off and kept her upright instead of letting her faceplate straight into the concrete."

Jack hums. "You're a dumbass," he starts. Luke chuckles dryly as he goes to sit down next to Jack. "But proud of you." he says before taking a bite of his waffles and standing up, patting the boy on his back.

"I'm off. I'm meeting Sammy for a farmer's market run this morning. So I'll be back around one." he says, putting his place in the sink and then heading towards the front door.

Quinn nods. "I'll be leaving shortly too. Trev and Cole are still sleeping. I think Duker and I are gonna go take up some ice time for a bit." he says, and Luke nods.

Y/N soon comes strolling in, still in her dress from the night before and her hair in a bun as she is squinting her eyes.

She goes to grab a cup of coffee, Quinn handing her a plate of food as she stand over by him at the island. "How you feeling champ?" he giggles, and she huffs.

"Not great. But not dying. I more so just have a headache right now. I think I got most of it out of my system last night." she explains with a dry laugh, taking a sip of her coffee.

Quinn laughs, before finishing up his breakfast. He goes over and kisses her head. "Don't kill him today, yeah?" is all he says, making her give him a look before he disappears.

Y/N just stands there, tracing the ring around her cup with her finger as they sat in silence.

Luke was the first to speak.

"There's um," he clears his throat. "There's some liquid IV in the cabinet. It's the berry one." he says, pointing to the cupboard.

She stands there quietly, taking a sip of her coffee and nodding.

Luke sighs. "Can I say more? Or are you going to leave before I can finish?" he asks genuinely.

"I'm debating." she answers back, not meeting his eyes as he keeps his own her figure.

"Well I'l just talk, and if you've had enough then you can walk away. Yeah?"

She says nothing, which then has him proceed.

"I fucked up," he sighs. "I really fucked up. I know that. I honestly wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to talk to me again."

"Again. Debating."

"And that's okay," he says, not wanting to say how much it would hurt him if she chose that. "I really should not make any excuses for what I said. I've just been in so much pain, and at such a breaking point with all of this. I took it out on you when I should not be doing that."

She takes a sip of her coffee, soon taking a bit of her food. He takes that as a sign that she isn't ready to leave just yet.

"I didn't realize how much you were doing until you weren't there. You know what I also realized?"

For the first time, she looks at him.

"I realized all you were trying to do was make this whole healing process easier on me. Not pester me. Or overwhelm me. Or annoy me. It was simply to make sure I was on the right path towards a faster paced healing process to get back on my feet."

"That's all I was trying to do, and have been trying to do Luke. Because I know how you get. You proved my point when you blew up at me like that." she answers in a monotoned voice. Luke nods.

"I know that now. And I'm so grateful for that and for you. Especially after having that realization," he says. "I hated hearing how you haven't slept, and how you have put me first. If anything don't do that again. For my sake. As much as I love you for that, I need you do make sure Y/N is healthy first."

Y/N ears perk up, and she looks at him with a frown. "What did you just say?" she says softly.

Luke furrows his brows. "I need you to put yourself first. Your health."

"You said you love me."

Luke's eyes widen, and his heart freezes. He did not even realize he let that come out.

He clears his throat and he feels his ears heat up, seeing her face change slightly. "I um," he squeaks. "Yeah. Yeah I do love you. I think I always have, but after realizing all of this I think it made me realize I loved you more." he admits, his voice shaky as he looks at her.

"Luke."

"I'm serious, Y/N." he says. "I know you hate love bombing, but honestly that slipped out. And I am just going to own it because it's nothing but the damn truth."

Y/N just stands there in disbelief. Luke continues. "I want you to know that I truly and deeply am sorry for saying all of those things. You're not clingy. You're not annoying or a burden or any sort of negative impact on my life." he says, slowly getting closer to her. "If anything I do need you. And I want you as mine and mine only. I don't want any of those stupid guys from last summer to be the type of dates you have this year. I want us to figure our shit out, and I want to give you the proper dates you deserve."

Y/N looks up at Luke. "You've got a lot of making up to do, Hughes. A lot."

Luke takes a deep breath. "I know. I know I do."

"You broke my heart."

"I know."

"You called me things."

"I did, and I'm sorry for that."

"Yet I love you too."

His eyes could've popped out of his head. "W-What?" he cracks out, and she give him a small smile.

Before he knew what was happening, she flicks his forehead hard and then smacks his cheek. "Ouch, hey!" he says in awe, and she points at him.

"You deserve that," she says. "But I got those out of the way so I could finish with this."

She lightly grabs his jaw and places a chaste kiss on his lips. He groans when she pulls away far too short for his liking.

"No. No more. Because you have a lot of shit to fix first."

"Roger that."

"I love you."

"I love you too, and I will spend the rest of my life proving it."

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basicknowledge · 10 months ago

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📚「 @friendshipwins」 asked:

"Pop quiz! Cheren's been working waaay too hard lately! So, should he: A) grab a bite to eat with Bianca, B) go with Bianca to Striaton Restaurant, or C) let Bianca treat him to a great big meal?"

Cheren considers his options carefully, taking much more time than either of them knew he needed. Slowly, he leans back in his seat, tenting his hands under his chin.

"You know, Teach, I'm not entirely sure we covered this subject in the lessons. Decisions, decisions..."

He takes another eternity to tap his finger to his chin before adopting a resigned smile and an exaggerated sigh.

"Well, you know what they say; when in doubt, make your best educated guess. So I suppose... I'll have to go with A. How's my final score?"

#◎unforgettable|(ic)◎#◎class in session|(rp)◎#friendshipwins

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xinganhao · 2 months ago

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cherry on top 🍒 mafia boss!seungcheol x reader. (3)

being in a situationship is already pretty hard. being in a situationship with a petty mafia boss who has never dated before? much, much harder. previous chapter + masterlist.

💰 Expense report filed by mafia financial officer, Lee Seokmin

SUBJECT: Personal Expenditures – S.Coups re: Civilian Target

CATEGORY: GIFTS / SURPRISES

Custom Silk Scarf (Monogrammed with "S.C.") – $1,350.00 └ Ordered from Paris boutique. Civilian target wore it once, commented: "It's soft, but why is his name on it?"

Limited Edition Vinyl Record (Frank Ocean – Blonde) – $880.00 └ Gifted after argument #7. Civilian target was seen smiling while playing track 14.

Midnight Ice Cream Delivery – From Rome, Italy – $4,700.00 (incl. private courier) └ Civilian target said: "You could've just gotten Häagen-Dazs." Boss replied: "This has basil. It’s romantic."

CATEGORY: DAMAGE CONTROL / APOLOGIES

Floral Arrangements (x12) from 12 Different Florists – $2,160.00 └ Delivered over 48 hours post-miscommunication re: "flirting waiter" incident. One bouquet was left untouched in the hallway. The rest were used as Instagram story props.

Therapist Retainer (Anonymous Booking, Civilian Target) – $3,000.00 └ Civilian target has not claimed these sessions. Boss insists it's "just in case she realizes she needs help processing me."

Reimbursement for Civilian Target’s Broken Mug (accidentally knocked over during jealous argument) – $25.00 └ Mug was shaped like a cat. Boss replaced it with an expensive glass tumbler. Civilian target was not amused.

CATEGORY: SMALL & QUESTIONABLE EXPENSES

Custom Engraved Bullet Pendant ("So You Think I’m Scary, Huh?") – $300.00 └ Intended as ironic gift. Civilian target laughed, wore it once to annoy him. Boss framed photo.

Spotify Premium (Family Plan – Only One Member) – $15.99/mo └ Boss created 17hr playlist titled "if i die it’s her fault but i’d still thank her." Civilian target unknowingly listens to it often.

Gluten-Free Baking Class (Online, Gifted to Civilian Target’s Aunt) – $220.00 └ She mentioned her aunt wanted it. He took notes. Civilian target unaware of mafia-funded culinary education in progress.

Donation to Shelter Where Civilian Target Volunteers – $5,000.00 └ Made anonymously. Boss requested they name a puppy after her. They did. Civilian target unsure why a rottweiler named "Beloved" exists.

CATEGORY: UNAUTHORIZED PERSONAL SPENDING

Rental of Entire Rooftop Restaurant for "Casual Talk" – $12,000.00 └ Civilian target refused to show up. Ate ramen alone at home. Boss sat through three-course meal with two phones: one for business, one specifically for her texts and calls.

Suit Tailoring (New Lapels for Better Hug Experience) – $900.00 └ Boss: "She said my suits were stiff. I made them hug-friendly."

Jet Fuel Surcharge – Roundtrip to Seoul, 3 hours total visit – $15,700.00 └ Purpose: "To see her smile."

TOTAL EXPENSES TO DATE: $49,250.99

RECOMMENDATION/S: Immediate financial intervention or a mandatory sit-down with Boss regarding boundaries, budgets, and basic human dating behavior.

👂 Surveillance transcript filed by mafia soldier, Chwe Hansol

DATE RANGE: ███████████-███████████ LOCATION: Civilian Target's Apartment, Unit 13S BUG #7: Living Room Lamp (Active)

TRANSCRIPT 001 – 23:43 HRS

S.COUPS: Why is there a toothbrush that’s not mine in your bathroom? YOU: Because I live here. And sometimes people visit me. It’s called having a life. S.COUPS: Who visits you? Give me names. Socials. Blood types. YOU: You are so exhausting. [SOUND: Footsteps. Fridge opens.] S.COUPS: Don’t change the subject. That toothbrush has a blue handle. Blue is a masculine color. YOU: Oh my god, are you jealous of a toothbrush now? [SOUND: Prolonged silence. Soft muttering.] S.COUPS: ...It’s suspiciously ergonomic.

TRANSCRIPT 004 – 07:12 HRS

YOU: Why are you folding my laundry? S.COUPS: Because you do it wrong. YOU: What does that even mean? S.COUPS: You mix textures. Cotton with wool. It’s chaos. This is what chaos feels like. YOU: You literally blow up cars for a living. S.COUPS: Yeah, but strategically.

TRANSCRIPT 008 – 14:09 HRS

YOU: Why is there a bag of gummy bears on my pillow? S.COUPS: You said you liked them. YOU: Once. In passing. S.COUPS: I take notes. On everything. You also like your coffee with oat milk and you talk in your sleep about octopus documentaries. YOU: That’s creepy. S.COUPS: It’s called “caring.” YOU: It’s called surveillance. [SOUND: Muffled laughing, presumably from YOU.]

TRANSCRIPT 015 – 00:03 HRS

YOU: Did you pick a fight with your own underboss because he liked one of my photos? S.COUPS: He put a heart and a fire emoji. That’s a double reaction. It’s aggressive. YOU: You are so—so emotionally constipated. S.COUPS: You say that like it’s a bad thing. YOU: It is a bad thing! [SOUND: Struggle noises, unclear. Presumed YOU threw a pillow at S.COUPS and he retaliated by tackling YOU on to the couch.] NOTE: Possible physical altercation turns to intimacy. Redacted for discretion.

TRANSCRIPT 017 – 01:26 HRS

YOU: Stop staring at me. S.COUPS: I’m memorizing your face. Don’t make this harder than it is. [SILENCE FOR 13 SECONDS.] YOU: ...Why is there a tiny blinking light in my lamp? S.COUPS: Oh no. YOU: Did you seriously bug my apartment?! S.COUPS: Okay, first of all, you’re being very judgmental right now. YOU: Because you’re a lunatic. S.COUPS: I'll give you one guess as to whose fault is that. YOU: Take the damn bug out of my lamp, you psycho! NOTE: S.COUPS neglected to turn bug off. Argument ensued; redacted for discretion. Intimacy ensued. Also redacted.

END OF AVAILABLE TRANSCRIPT. ADDT'L NOTE: REQUESTING TO BE MOVED OUT OF SURVEILLANCE DIVISON ASAP.

📓 Therapy session notes filed by Dr. Boo Seungkwan, licensed psychiatrist affiliated with ████████ Syndicate

SESSION: 3rd of prescribed 10-week cycle

INITIAL OBSERVATIONS: Patient arrived precisely on time, wearing a tailored black suit, slightly wrinkled as though he'd been pacing before arrival. Hair unkempt, hands clenched for most of the session. Eyes noticeably tired. Declined water. Brought a half-eaten bag of gummy bears, claiming "They calm me down. She likes them too."

Presented with guarded posture, alternating between overconfidence and sudden emotional vulnerability. Exhibits hallmark signs of high-functioning control dependence, paired with emotional suppression and limited interpersonal processing tools.

SESSION THEMES

1. Obsession with Control: Patient admits to bugging the civilian target’s apartment ("It was for her safety") and maintaining a detailed log of her daily habits. Claims these measures are a form of care. When asked what he fears would happen without this control, he replied, "She might stop needing me."

Expressed frustration when civilian target expressed autonomy: "She does things without telling me. Like she has a life or something." Tone was sarcastic but undercut with genuine confusion.

2. Difficulty Processing Emotions

Patient struggles to name his emotions beyond anger and protectiveness. When prompted to describe how he feels when civilian target smiles at him, he paused for 47 seconds before muttering: "Like I'm about to combust, but in a good way?"

Displays discomfort with perceived emotional weakness. Used humor and territorial possessiveness to deflect.

Quote: "She called me emotionally constipated. That's unfair. I feel things. I just don't show them. I'm not a chihuahua in a sweater." (Analogy unclear.)

3. Devotion to Civilian Target

His attachment is intense and deeply internalized. He referenced at least eight specific events he organized to make her life easier, ranging from "tailoring suit lapels for better hugs" to "funding her aunt’s gluten-free hobby."

Refers to her as "the only thing that makes me think twice before pulling a trigger."

Appears to be undergoing identity shift: from feared mafia boss to a man attempting—often poorly—to be emotionally available. Indicates willingness to grow, albeit via unconventional and often unhinged methods.

Notable Quote: "I don't know what being a boyfriend means. But if it means checking all her windows are locked and ordering her ice cream from Italy when she's sad, then I'm already trying."

TREATMENT PLAN

Begin cognitive restructuring around concepts of emotional intimacy vs. surveillance.

Introduce grounding techniques for obsessive behaviors.

Assign weekly "emotional vocabulary" journaling.

Strongly recommend cessation of all illegal tracking devices.

PROGNOSIS: Patient displays exceptional loyalty, obsessive commitment, and a deep desire to improve for the sake of the civilian target. Progress will be slow, as foundational emotional processing tools are underdeveloped. However, signs of potential are present.

Patient left session saying, "Don't tell her I cried. But also, maybe do. I don't know. What would make her like me more?" Then insisted that I forward these notes to her, threatening to cease sessions otherwise. Will have to consult with mafia leadership.

DIAGNOSIS: High-functioning attachment disorder with control dependency and romantic maladjustment. Currently treating with compassion, sarcasm, and an iron will.

NEXT SESSION SCHEDULED: ████████

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

#seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines #seungcheol smau #scoups smau #svt text imagines #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt smau #seventeen smau #── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine #── ᵎᵎ ✦ series: cot

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hockeyluvrr · 3 months ago

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I know love || lh43

series masterlist main masterlist

summary: Luke Hughes has always been your best friend—until one summer at the lake house changes everything. One almost-kiss, one broken moment, and suddenly, there’s a distance between you that even time can’t fix. But when Luke starts his first NHL season, fate gives you one last chance to get it right. Will you finally close the space between you, or are some love stories meant to stay unfinished?

warnings: miscommunication, pining, feelings of regret and all that jazz, eventual fluff though but mostly angsty

author’s note: I actually love this one, it combines two of my fav versions of lukey…UMich lukey and summer lukey 😩 also I truly believe this song is so luke coded but it might just be because I’m in love with him or something idk 😭

word count: 2,422

There was something about Luke Hughes that made it impossible to stay away. Maybe it was the way he always found you in a crowded room, his eyes lighting up when they met yours. Or the way he’d throw an arm around your shoulders after a long day, acting like it was second nature. Whatever it was, it made it difficult to ignore the tiny ache in your chest whenever he smiled at you.

You met Luke your freshman year at UMich. The introduction had been casual—one of your friends dragged you to a party, and somehow, you ended up in the kitchen, laughing over how awful the beer tasted. Luke, dressed in his usual hoodie and backwards cap, leaned against the counter and smirked.

“Not a fan of cheap beer?”

“Not a fan of beer in general,” you admitted.

He handed you a bottle of water instead, and that was the first night he really looked at you—like he saw you, not just another face in a room full of people.

Over time, it became something more. Late-night study sessions in the library turned into coffee runs before morning classes. Game nights at his apartment turned into movie marathons where you both ended up asleep on opposite sides of the couch. He was one of your best friends, the person who could read you without you saying a word.

And maybe that’s why it hurt so much.

Because no matter how much time you spent with Luke, there was always space between you. Just enough to keep you at arm’s length.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was everything.

———

The campus was buzzing with excitement—UMich was heading to the Frozen Four, and Luke was at the center of it all. He was always the last one off the ice at practice, the first one in the locker room watching film. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the weight of expectations pressing down on his shoulders.

“You should sleep,” you murmured one night as he sat beside you in his apartment, head resting on the back of the couch.

“Can’t,” he muttered. “Too much going on in my head.”

You hesitated before reaching out, fingers lightly brushing his wrist. “You’ll be okay, you know. No matter what happens.”

Luke turned his head to look at you, something unreadable flickering across his face. For a second, it felt like the space between you was closing, like he was seeing you in a way he hadn’t before.

But then his phone buzzed, and whatever moment that had been disappeared.

“Jack’s calling,” he said, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “I should take this.”

You nodded, swallowing the disappointment curling in your chest. “Yeah. Of course.”

It wasn’t the first time. And it wouldn’t be the last.

———

Summer at the Hughes’ lake house was supposed to be easy. Sun-soaked days, late-night bonfires, early morning swims when the world still felt half-asleep. It was a tradition—Luke, his brothers, and a revolving door of friends who came and went, all drawn to the water like it was calling them home.

This year, you were part of it.

You had barely stepped out of the car when Luke pulled you into a hug, arms tight around you like it had been months instead of weeks since you last saw him. The feeling of him—warm and familiar—lingered even after he let go.

“Missed you,” he admitted, his voice soft enough that no one else would hear.

Your stomach flipped, but you forced a smile. “Missed you too, Hughes.”

For a while, it was easy to pretend nothing had changed. Mornings were spent on the dock, your feet dangling over the edge as Luke sat beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. Afternoons were filled with boat rides and half-hearted attempts at wakeboarding that usually ended with someone face-planting into the water. And at night, when the air was thick with the scent of bonfire smoke, you and Luke always ended up next to each other—knees bumping, fingers almost touching.

But that space between you? It was still there.

And then, one night, it wasn’t.

———

It started with a game of truth or dare.

The group was sprawled across the deck, a mix of empty bottles and half-eaten bags of chips between them. The game had been harmless at first—stupid questions, ridiculous dares. But then Jack’s girlfriend grinned and turned to you.

“Alright,” she said, eyes twinkling. “Truth or dare?”

You hesitated, feeling Luke’s gaze on you. “Dare.”

Her smile widened. “Kiss someone.”

The group erupted into cheers, and your stomach twisted. You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, your mind racing through your options. There were a dozen ways out of this—you could laugh it off, could kiss someone random and be done with it.

But then you looked at Luke.

And Luke looked at you.

The world narrowed to the space between you, to the way his lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as you leaned in, the air thick with something unspoken.

Your breath mingled with his. His hand twitched like he was going to reach for you.

But then—

“Look, a shooting star!” Jack announced, breaking the moment like a snapped thread. The group all turned to look up at the sky, and just like that, the moment was gone.

Luke pushed himself up, muttering something about getting another drink before disappearing into the house.

You exhaled sharply, your hands trembling as you curled them into fists.

It was almost something.

Almost.

And that was the worst part.

———

After that night, something shifted.

Luke wasn’t avoiding you, not exactly. He still sat next to you at breakfast, still threw you into the lake when you least expected it, still nudged your foot under the dinner table when Jack was telling some ridiculous story. But there was hesitation in the way he looked at you now, a flicker of something unsure that hadn’t been there before.

And you? You felt like you were walking a tightrope, balancing between pretending nothing had changed and wanting to grab him by the shoulders and demand to know what the hell that moment had meant to him.

But you didn’t. Because if Luke wasn’t saying anything, why should you?

That was the problem with the two of you. You were always waiting for the other person to make the first move.

And then, one night, you stopped waiting.

The bonfire was dying down, most of the group already slipping inside for the night. You lingered on the dock, the cool wood beneath you grounding you as you stared out at the dark water.

Luke found you like he always did.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, sitting beside you.

You huffed out a laugh. “Something like that.”

Silence stretched between you. Not uncomfortable, but not easy either. The weight of everything unspoken sat between you, thick as the humid summer air.

“About that night—”

Luke started speaking at the same time you did, and you both broke off, staring at each other. He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

“You first,” he said.

You swallowed, your pulse roaring in your ears. “Did it mean anything to you?”

The question hung between you, heavy and dangerous.

Luke inhaled sharply. “Of course it did.”

“Then why did you leave?”

His jaw tensed. “Because, I—” He exhaled harshly, running a hand through his hair. “Because I didn’t want to ruin anything.”

You blinked. “Ruin what?”

“This,” he said, gesturing between the two of you. “Us.”

Anger flared in your chest. “Luke, do you even hear yourself? You think avoiding how we feel is going to fix anything?”

His brows furrowed. “How we feel?”

And that was it. That was the breaking point.

You stood, your hands clenched into fists. “I like you, Luke. I’ve liked you for so long, and I’m so tired of pretending I don’t. But if you don’t feel the same way, just—just tell me. Stop leaving me in this space between nothing and everything.”

Luke looked stunned. Like he hadn’t realised it was that simple.

Like he hadn’t realised how much this had been breaking you.

You shook your head, turning away. “Forget it.”

You didn’t give him the chance to respond. You just walked away.

And for the first time since you met Luke Hughes, he didn’t follow you.

———

The rest of the summer passed in a blur. You and Luke barely spoke.

It wasn’t like he was ignoring you outright—he was still there in the periphery, still laughing at Jack’s jokes, still competing against Quinn and the guys in wakeboarding. But he wasn’t there with you. Not the way he used to be.

And you? You didn’t know how to fix it.

You thought maybe he’d pull you aside before you left, maybe say something—anything—to make sense of what happened that night on the dock. But when the time came to go, Luke just hugged you the way he did everyone else, murmured a soft ‘see you later’, and let you walk away.

No mention of the fight. No apology. No confession.

Just silence.

And maybe that was your answer.

———

Luke was officially in the NHL.

You saw the news everywhere—on social media, on sports channels, in the excited texts from your friends. He was doing it. Living his dream.

And you were proud of him. You really were.

But you hadn’t talked since that night at the lake. Not even once.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about reaching out. You had typed out messages more times than you could count—‘Hey, congrats, Hope you’re doing well, I miss you’—but you never sent them.

If he wanted to talk to you, he would.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

———

It was Jack who invited you.

You weren’t sure why—maybe he missed having you around, maybe he just wanted you to stop looking like someone had ripped out a piece of your heart and run off with it. Either way, he sent a simple ‘Come to the game. No excuses.’ text, and somehow, you found yourself in the arena, watching Luke skate across the ice like he belonged there.

He looked good. Happy. Like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

And maybe that should have been enough for you.

But then, after the game, Jack pulled you through the halls of the arena, past reporters and players until he stopped in front of a door.

“He’s in there,” Jack said, giving you a pointed look. “Fix it.”

You barely had time to process what was happening before Jack knocked once and walked off, leaving you standing there as the door swung open.

And there he was.

Luke.

His hair was damp, his tie loose around his neck, his eyes widening the second he saw you.

For a moment, neither of you said anything.

Then, his voice came, quiet but certain.

“You came.”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “Yeah. Jack kind of forced me.”

His lips twitched, like he wanted to smile but didn’t know if he was allowed to. “Still. You’re here.”

You nodded, shifting on your feet. “Yeah.”

Silence. The same silence that had sat between you for months.

And then—

“I was scared.”

Your breath caught as Luke exhaled shakily, his hands clenching at his sides.

“I didn’t know what to say that night,” he admitted. “Didn’t know how to tell you that I—I felt the same way. That I have for so long.” His throat bobbed. “And then you walked away, and I let you, and I hated myself for it.”

Your heart pounded. “Luke…”

“I thought maybe it was too late,” he murmured. “That I lost you before I even got the chance to have you.”

You inhaled sharply. “It’s not too late.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, like he was finally seeing what had been right in front of him all along.

And this time—this time—he closed the space between you.

Luke’s hands hovered uncertainly before settling on your waist, his touch warm even through the fabric of your coat. His eyes flickered across your face, searching, waiting—like he needed you to give him permission to finally, finally close the space between you.

So you did.

You surged forward, hands fisting in his jacket as his lips met yours.

And just like that, every unspoken word, every moment of hesitation, every aching second of being apart melted away.

Luke kissed you like he was making up for lost time—like he regretted every second he spent pretending he didn’t want this. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, and you sighed against his lips, letting yourself fall into him.

When you finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“I should’ve done that a long time ago,” he murmured.

You huffed out a breathless laugh. “Yeah. You should have.”

His grip on you tightened slightly. “Let me fix it,” he whispered. “Let me be what you deserve.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, really look at him. His eyes were so open, so full of everything he had been too afraid to say before. And for the first time, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty. Just Luke. Just you.

And this time, you weren’t letting him go.

———

Luke didn’t waste any more time.

He called you after games, sent you random texts about things that reminded him of you, FaceTimed you when he got back to his apartment just because he wanted to see your face.

And then, one day, he called you with a simple request:

“Come visit me.”

So you did.

New Jersey in the winter was cold, but Luke’s apartment was warm, and his arms around you were even warmer. The second you stepped inside, he pulled you into him, mumbling a soft, ‘missed you’ against your hair.

You smiled. “I was gone for like a month.”

“Too long.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled in your chest.

Luke had always been a constant in your life—your best friend, your safe place, your almost. But now?

Now, there was no more almost.

Just love. Real, undeniable, steady love.

And it was everything you had ever wanted.

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