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urprettylittlething · 11 months

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In The Shadows

Purge Alternate Universe

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - Okayyyy I've been working on this for like a week and it's the longest I've ever written for one thing, I had a shoulder injury which is mostly healed up now during the week which hindered my progress a little because I originally really wanted this to get out nearer Halloween time, but oh well TT at least its here now right? Lmao, but I hope you guys enjoy it, I tried my best and lowkey kind of hate it, I wished I could've done more or something, but if you have any ideas around this for a possible part 2 let me knoww, although no promises ;) Consider this a massive thank you story, I now have over 100 followers and the likes and reblogs and comments, you guys, I'm crying, I love you all so much <333333 I love interacting with you guys and your comments on my stories or in my inbox <3333 you all make my day ilysm <3 :( AND IM SORRY I COULDNT HELP IT, they're kind of really mean so its more harsh yandere than the soft you all wanted :( I couldn't help myself its a purge AU TT, but I promise ill make something softer in the future <33 sorry this is so long omfg, but let me know your thoughts pretty please <3 and if you actually read all of this ily

summary - Another purge night is here and you think your safe and sound, but let your guard down and you'll find yourself bound.

warnings - purge, mentions of 'off screen' murder, actual 'off screen' murder, kind of gore but reader doesn't see it, blood, rope, reader gets tied up, gags?, tape over readers mouth, they're actually kind of really mean lol, especially Geto, descriptions of panic, anxiety, overthinking, stalker situation kind of, swearing, crying, brief hair pulling, if there's any more let me know ml <3

genre - Oneshot

wc - 7.2k

~spelling and grammar fixed already~

Edit - the top photo 6/11/23

The tip tapping of fingers on keys echoed around the silent room. The occasional footfalls of people around her walking up and down. Picking up books to further aid their studying would slip past the music playing in her ears when they were loud enough.

Every time she would hear someone being a little too loud for the library they were in she would glance up and shoot a half-hearted glare their way.

They’d never see her but it was the thought that counted. A barely audible sigh escapes her as she brings a hand up to massage her cold fingertips into the throbbing skin at her temple.

Nervous nibbling was occupying her teeth and lips, chewing away the flesh and creating tender spots her tongue would soon soothe.

She’d been staring at the same empty document for two hours now. No more than two sentences she was able to come up with before she’d erase them in a fit of frustration.

Abandoned textbooks lay closed behind her laptop, she’d deemed them no use around thirty minutes in, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and search for better ones.

She was antsy, not able to focus on her assignment due in a week's time. Her brain was all fogged up, too many thoughts going through her mind and yet she's not able to focus on a single one.

The purge was tonight. March 21st. And it was currently 1pm.

Why did she even bother to come to the library in the first place? Was she hoping to distract herself even just a little bit before she had to hunker herself down in her dorm for twelve hours?

Maybe. Yes.

Was it working? Absolutely not.

She was too skittish. Overthinking everything that had the potential of happening later and things that have previously happened.

‘Someone's not going to come and try to kill me just because I forgot to return their pen that one time, right?’

The amusing, albeit a little dark, thought did make the corner of her lips twitch just the smallest amount.

Taking off her headphones after stopping her music, she closes down her laptop and starts to move it into her bag.

She spares a quick glance around the few tables next to hers as she stands with the library's books in her arms. Her eyes locked with a man sitting roughly two tables down. Slumped back in his seat.

Gojo Satoru. Bright white and fluffy hair paired with a set of dazzling blue eyes. The ones currently peeking over the tops of his round shades that had slid down his nose as he tucked his head down slightly.

Sitting in front of him and abstracting her view of Gojo only slightly is who she assumed was Geto Suguru. Two peas in a pod and never seen without the other. The long black and silky strands of hair tied up in a half up bun was a giveaway to who he was as well.

Both of them were originally from Tokyo, Japan. Coming over to America over five years ago. Or at least that's what she’s heard from around the place, not knowing them personally. They were the most popular boys in school when she had joined a little over a year ago and they still held the title strong.

She doesn’t think she's ever really interacted with them. At Least not on any kind of personal level. Sure, maybe from a few friends of friends or passing each other in the hallway and being polite to her upperclassmen, but nothing all that memorable.

Which is why this prolonged eye contact is sending a very noticeable shiver down her spine. The smallest twitch of a smirk on his face and she was breaking eye contact, gulping down the pooled saliva in her mouth as she turned around and hastily made her way in between the towering bookshelves.

Leaving the library after stacking the books she’d previously taken back on the shelves, she hastily makes her way down the long corridors. Keeping her head down, her hands clutched tight on the strap of her bag. She passes very few people in the hallway.

Even after pushing through the doors and trekking her way to the dorms at the end of the path, there were very few people loitering around outside. Some of the people she passed looked like they could be stoned, not that she could really blame them. Some looked a little too relaxed and happy and some were just trying to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Like her.

As the doors came into view, and then the stairs, she slowly began to relax, her fast pace lessening up. Successfully getting to the safest place she could for when the purge would start.

It was also a massive relief that her two good friends would be staying with her during the twelve hours of horror. Last time she was by herself there had been multiple scares throughout the night. Nothing too big but something she didn’t think she could handle alone again.

Reaching her door on the third floor she fiddles with her keys for a few seconds before her door clicks open and she pushes her way inside. Closing the door and locking it again for good measure.

It was 1:43 pm.

A few minutes after she had arrived back at her dorm did she realize she still needed to pick up some food items. Being a broke student meant she had essentially nothing in her cupboards or her fridge. And if she was ‘hosting for the purge’ this year, it meant she had to stock up at least a little bit.

‘Imagine trying to hide from a killer and your stomach growls, I think I would just die on the spot.’ She thinks, the smallest smile gracing her face. Humour is usually her way to cope in situations like these. It’s either that or panicking and she’d rather try to save that for the main event.

With a heavy sigh and hesitation weighing her limbs down, she slowly puts her shoes and jacket back on. She can make this quick. In and out. Easy peasy.

With a quick jump while shaking her limbs out to get rid of her last minute hesitation, she quickly opens her door and steps out before shutting it behind her. No going back now. Locking the door behind her, she starts making her way back down the stairs and out the doors, walking in the direction of the food store.

Her nerves were still playing up though, eyes darting this way and that as if trying to find a reason for her to panic. ‘It’s okay, the purge hasn’t started yet, all those things are still illegal.’ Is what she keeps telling herself while taking a deep breath. But the fact they won’t be in a few hours was still cause for some panic.

Arriving at the store, she wizzes around, collecting any good looking snack and throwing it in her basket before hastily paying and leaving. The heavy plastic carrier bag hanging from her fingers gave her reason to think she went a bit overboard.

Her quickened steps and accelerated breathing were all she could hear for a while. Her walk back to her dorm was supposed to be a quiet one, less and less people were loitering around meaning less and less noises to distract her.

Especially from the new set of footsteps that have appeared behind her.

As soon as her mind clocked the extra set of footsteps there, it went into overdrive. ‘Who is that? Are they following me? No, you're being delusional, they're just trying to get back home. But are they? They just appeared out of nowhere. Are they going to try and kidnap me? Rape me? Stuff me in a van? Drag me down a dark alleyway and murder me?’

Her mind was racing, steps quickening and breathing silenced under the new threat. ‘Oh god, what if they’re stalking me? Waiting until the purge starts to come and slaughter me? They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?’

And then they were gone.

It barely registered in her mind that the fast paced footsteps from behind her had vanished. A sharp breath escaped her before her head whipped around on a desperate whim. No one. Not a soul on the path behind her.

Her shoulders sank with relief and a watery laugh broke free from her trembling lips. ‘I’m losing my mind.’ She thought. Even though that feeling in her gut had faded, it never fully disappeared. Her racing heart never slowed and neither did her footsteps.

Y/n hurried back to her dorm, almost running through the doors and up the stairs to fumble with her keys and quickly burst in. Double checking she locked the door behind her, and then checking every other lock on her third story apartment. Only when she had made sure they were all secure could she finally relax.

Her body shivering and hands shaking from the after effects of adrenaline. Her breathing is still a little shaky as she pulls a bunch of pillows and blankets into her tiny living room. Pushing her chair and sofa away to make more space as she lays everything out as neat as she could, making the floor a comfy space for her and her two friends to crash for the purge.

She empties the snacks from out of the plastic bag and piles them in a nice little corner near the TV. A small stack of movies there for when they’re all waiting for the purge to start. Some cards in a pack were also placed there.

The three of them are wanting to be as quiet as possible while the purge is going on. Everything locked, curtains drawn, lights off, TV with no volume and only subtitles, quiet games to play in case they got bored, etc.

They weren’t taking any chances. It was doubtful anything would happen, since nothing really ever did in the dorms. No student here would go as far as murdering somebody, everyone mostly stayed inside, not wanting to risk anything. She only knew of a few people that have snuck out before to rob a few stores, or do some petty revenge like smashing someone's car without getting into trouble.

But overall, it was best to remain quiet. They didn’t want to get murdered because the TV was turned up too loudly and attracted some wrong attention.

It was 5:15 pm.

This is the time her friends arrived. Knocking some made up code on the slab of wood before messaging just for good measure that it was really them outside.

After unlocking the door and letting her two good friends inside her dorm she swiftly closes and locks it again. Relieved greetings transpire as well as nervous whispers about the purge and some small gossip of who they think would actually go out this year and who are likely to stay inside.

The three of them start to make their way around her dorm, closing all the curtains and double checking the locks on all the windows and doors. Especially the balcony and front door.

After they’ve secured the apartment, they turn off all the necessary lights, flicking on a few electrical lanterns and setting them up around the living room, but away from the windows. They’ve left one lantern in the bathroom and one in her bedroom, both turned off, just in case of emergencies.

The three of them settle in a spread out pile on the blankets she put down in the living room. Some snacks are passed around already and a movie is slotted into the TV, playing as background noise mostly while they talk.

Erica, a sassy but kind of dumb girl, with choppy shoulder length hair that had been bleached and dyed a light green. She's donned in a crop top and sweatpants, comfy.

Don, a friendly giant, very kind in nature but also a little muscly. He has short black hair and a sculpted jawline. He also came in sweatpants and a baggy white T-shirt, also comfy.

Her two very good, and only, friends here. They’re in a few of her classes and all regularly hang out together.

“So,” Erica begins after her mouthful of powdered donut. “Who do you think is going to actually purge tonight? Like, actually actually. My moneys on them two hotties in my class.” She finishes, wiggling her eyebrows..

Don hums around his half empty soda can. “Yeah, honestly I wouldn't be surprised if they did.”

Y/n pipes up, “Wait who?” sitting up against the sofa behind her, getting comfy like she's about to hear the gossip of a lifetime.

“Oh, Em, G! You haven’t heard of it? You’ve seriously been, like, living under a rock or something.” Erica says jokingly. Picking apart pieces of her donut and eating them.

Don perks up too. “Really? You haven't?” Y/n shakes her head in denial as Don shrugs. “I get it, it’s mostly stayed in our class, hasn’t spread much further than that.” He says before crawling forward and rummaging around for more snacks.

“So get a load of this right!” Erica sits up too after finishing her donut. Waving her hands excitedly as she tells her latest gossip. “You know them two really hot upperclassmen right?” She draws out her ‘really’ and waits patiently at the end of her sentence for the other girl's confirmation.

When she nods in slight confusion, Erica continues, “There were some major rumours in class that the two of them were late this one day because they were beating someone up. And I don't mean like a few slaps or hair pulling, I mean punches. You know?”

Y/n nods again, this time with furrowed brows and Erica continues, “At first, I didn’t believe it, obviously. But then, the two of them came into class and I swear there were blood stains on their clothes. Blood stains! Not to mention all the plasters and bandages all over their hands! I just had to believe it then! Wouldn’t you?”

After the end of her long rant she slumps back against the front of the sofa and mumbles incoherently to herself shaking her head while pouting.

Don, who had been listening silently, pipes up, “It was true, I was actually there for once.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raise in disbelief at what she had just heard. Fighting, here? She couldn’t help but to doubt it, if only just a little. Stuff like that has never happened here. Or at least while she had been here. It was just unheard of.

And for an attack so vicious to result in blood being drawn, then there must have been somewhat of a good reason for it. That was the conclusion she came to.

“I mean, there had to have been a good reason for it.” Y/n says, “They’re pretty nice people aren't they? It is Gojo and Geto were talking about here, right? They’re really popular here too.” Her eyes darted between her two friends, looking for more answers on this unexpected juicy gossip.

Erica sighs wistfully, “No, it got shut down pretty quick, which I guess is why so little people have heard about it. God, would I pay to see them fight though. Their muscles must have looked amazing.”

They stop talking about it after that, Don getting distracted by the snacks and whining about how she didn’t get his favourite. Erica smacking him with a few pillows and complaining how he’s getting in the way of her movie she was barely even watching.

Their playful banter did little to distract from her inner turmoil. A small shiver went down her spine again. The memory from earlier in the library resurfacing in her mind. Gojo staring her down, the creepy walk back from the shops and now learning the two had at the very least helped in injuring someone.

It could just be because it was purge day, but everything was beginning to creep her out and she was overthinking again. ‘What if he wants to attack me next? What if all of those things were connected and someone really was following me home? What if he wants to kill me? What if both of them want to kill me? Have I ever done anything to offend them? I haven’t, have I?’ She knew these were far fetched and ridiculous, but she couldn’t help but think of them anyway.

Her spiralling thoughts were halted when a stray pillow smacked her in the face. “Oops, haha, sorry.” Erica sheepishly apologized, bringing her hand up to smooth down Y/n’s ruffled hair. Don was laughing in the background.

Y/n was stunned for a few seconds before replying, “Oh, don’t worry. How about we put something else on? This movie is kind of boring.” crawling across the piles of pillows and blankets to reach the stack of movies.

This caught the other two’s attention, eagerly rushing to the stack as well to try and get first pick. Arguing for a few more minutes before settling on a movie they all loved. Snuggling back into their original positions.

This was how the next few hours went before the announcement appeared.

It was 6:59 pm.

At exactly 7 on the dot, the TV went black before turning blue, the government announcing the commencement of the purge. Big bold letters and ‘Emergency Broadcast System’ and ‘This is not a test’ were displayed on the screen.

They were all quiet as it played out. The mood quickly turned sombre.

“Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”

Don gulped.

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.”

Erica huffed.

“Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.”

Y/n shivered.

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am when The Purge concludes.”

She released a shaky breath. The announcement ends with “...A nation reborn.” before stopping. The screen turned black again.

No one moves or says anything. Each of them were frozen in an array of emotions. Fear being the most prominent.

The silence stretched on for minutes. Eerie in its wake, not even being able to hear other people in their dorm rooms like she normally would.

Eventually, after releasing another shaky breath and rearranging herself with trembling limbs, they all snap back into the present.

Don coughs and Erica shuffles awkwardly.

“Cards, anyone?” Y/n meekly speaks up. The other two nod as they sit in a small circle.

It was 7:36 pm.

This was when the first explosion of some kind was heard by them. Each of them froze in the middle of playing their mostly silent game of cards. The noise was distant, but the impact remained.

A scream from a few doors down echoed in the silent space.

They waited with baited breath for any follow up, but when nothing happened, they slowly relaxed. Each of them assumed it was the explosion that must have scared someone. Sometimes it’s better to think of the positive, rather than what that scream could have been for.

A few minutes later a siren bellows in the distance, a few car alarms wail.

Nothing too bad, but knowing that it could mean someone was being murdered out there didn’t give them any ease.

It was 8:02 pm.

This is when the banging starts. Y/n thinks it could be a few doors down again. Erica thinks it’s below them and Don thinks it’s above them.

Wherever it was, it was concerning.

Erica releases a small nervous chuckle. “Maybe someone is just having a good time?” A fake smile plastered on her face to try and mask her worry. Even she didn’t believe her little theory. Not during a time like this, during The Purge.

It was a few minutes later, after they had quietly resumed their game, that footsteps were heard.

Clacking down the hallway.

1, 2.

They were walking at a leisurely pace. Taking their time. Strolling down the hallway and getting closer and closer.

All three of them looked towards the door, as if someone were to burst in at any moment.

The footsteps slow before coming to a stop. Right outside her door.

The three of them hold their breath, bodies flinching when a light knock rings out into the open space.

Complete silence.

Another knock.

None of them had even noticed the earlier noises had stopped, too focused on the potential threat now right outside the door. Seemingly wanting someone to open up.

Three pairs of eyes dart between each other. Silent questions trying to push their way out without being heard. A few panicked half shrugs and furrowed brows with downturned lips later, another knock rings out.

This time it was a little louder.

Barely audible whisperings of ‘you go’, ‘no you’, ‘fuck no’, ‘who even is it?’ cut through the silence. No one wanted to ask the question. To even speak a hint of it lest it result in it coming true.

Eventually after a solid minute of panicked, almost silent, squabbling later. A frustrated and frightened Erica pushed herself up. Taking a very obvious deep breath. Eyes closed and silently mumbling to herself before taking a few steps over to the front door.

She tried to be as quiet as she could but each step sounded like it weighed a ton. Every creek and every wobble made to sound the loudest.

Very quietly bracing her hands upon the door, she leant up on her tiptoes. Peeking into the peephole positioned in the centre of the door.

The two left in the pile of blankets still. Not wanting to even breathe in fear of disturbing whatever was happening in front of them.

A sudden screech of pure panic and fear tore from Erica’s throat. Flailing before landing with a harsh thud on the floor beneath her. Scrambling backwards on her hands and feet, keeping her eyes on the door the entire time.

The two startle and immediately jump up, laboured breathing hindering their lungs from the sudden scare.

“What the fuck? Erica what happened? What was that?” Don frantically whispered. His eyes were also locked on the door.

Y/n also whispered to her, “Who was that? Erica?” her eyes locked onto her friend, not able to bring herself to look at the door yet.

“It was.. Oh god.. The peep..” Erica wheezed out. The fright took too much out of her with her frantic gasps for air.

A sudden bang echoed into the room. A few more followed before they all realized it was coming from the front door.

Erica screeched and threw herself back into a standing position, rushing for the kitchen and grabbing any sharp knife her eyes first laid on.

Don stood frozen in fear. Not able to move or barely breathe from the looks of it.

Y/n wasn’t any better herself. Downright terrified. This was her dorm. Her dorm. Which means whoever was outside, was looking for her.

The banging persisted, the person on the other side seemingly determined to get in. This proved correct when the handle started turning whichever way it could.

She didn’t even realize, terror clouding her senses because when she looked back to her two friends, Don had collapsed into himself, wheezing with little air entering his lungs amidst his panic. Erica was cornered in the kitchen, sobbing, tears flooding her cheeks and ruining her mascara she had in place.

The persistent banging stopped for a second. The faint sound of another pair of footsteps approached from the hallway outside. Muffled talking pursued but it was hard to make anything out, between her pounding heart, Erica’s sobs and the slab of wood in the way, didn’t make for easy hearing.

For Y/n, it seemed there was one second of complete silence. No sobbing, no voices, no distant alarms or explosions, no racing heart, no wheezing lungs. Before chaos sprung onto them.

Suddenly the people outside, because there was another person now, resumed banging on the door. But it didn’t seem like they were ‘just knocking’ anymore. No.

They were trying to break the door down.

She could see it from the way the door groaned and creaked under the relentless kicking. She couldn't quite tell if they were using their feet, or an object, or whatever.

All that mattered was that they were trying to get in. And they were going to succeed.

“Move! Hide! We need to hide!” She whisper-yelled. Rushing to Don and tugging on his arm to try and get him to move. He stared at her for a few seconds before his brain caught up, registering what was happening around him. The real danger he was in right now.

“Hide.. Oh god..” He panted, sprinting for the bathroom, the first place his eyes had landed on.

With Don now searching for a place to hide, she ran her way to Erica. Still trying to be as quiet as she could, in the little hopes that they would think she wasn’t here.

“Erica, we need to hide! They’re getting in!” She frantically whispered to her hyperventilating friend. Trying to shake her shoulders, even resorting to lightly slapping her face to try and get her attention. She was desperate.

“Please!” The sound of splintering caught both of their attention. Heads whipping towards the door starting to cave. She wasn’t all that surprised, that slab of wood was a shitty excuse for a door anyway.

Erica suddenly sprung up and dove for the piles of blankets in the living room. Trying to bury herself amongst them, taking the knife with her.

And now that all her friends had been taken care of, she ran for her bedroom. Trying her best not to stumble and fall in the dark hallway.

As soon as her door came into sight, she gently opened it, gunning for her wardrobe tucked into the corner of the room. Not even looking towards the turned off lantern, she didn’t need them knowing her hiding spot from something so obvious.

It was already messy anyway, so in her frazzled brain she didn’t bother caring where she tossed piles of clothes and shoes in her room.. They’d hopefully think it was like that in the first place.

After quickly clearing a space big enough for her to curl into, she did just that. Situating herself just right, back pressed against the side of the wardrobe, knees tucked to her chest and pressed against the boxes in front of her. She was sitting on old shirts she hadn’t seen for months.

Hearing the door breaking even further, she grabbed any clothes within her reach and threw them over herself. Shutting the door when she was mostly covered, she could have sworn she could hear laughter coming from the hallway.

A loud crash and splintering tore through the air. She knew it was her front door. And now they were inside.

Her hands slowly went up to cup around her mouth, trying to muffle her breathing as much as she could. Her body froze. Even when she already began to feel muscle cramps settling in, she dared not move. She forced herself to breathe slowly. Every inhale a struggle along with a reminder that she was still alive at this very moment. Even if she was convinced she wouldn’t be for much longer.

The thought brought tears to her eyes. The original shock wears from her body and settles into something akin to despair.

Her throat started clamping up, muscles seizing and throbbing with the need to cry.

It was the thudding of footsteps that shook her out of it. Snapping her half way back into a nightmarish reality.

She gulped. Closing her eyes and straining her ears for any information they were willing to receive.

Just as she thought. Two pairs of footsteps.

With every thud of a shoe or a spike in their muffled talking, her body would tremble.

It remained like this for a few more minutes. The footsteps or talking occasionally pausing.

It was during one of these silences, where a different sound was heard. She couldn’t identify the exact sounds, just ones of commotion. They were still all muffled. And then she heard muffled yelling.

It sounded so dulled, between the walls and layers of wood and clothes, she could barely make out anything, her ears straining for any hint as to what was happening. Being left in the dark like this, literally and figuratively, was terrifying her.

And then this horrible, awful noise carried its way between the cracks in the wardrobe. Crunching. Cracking. Stomps.

That muffled yelling from before kept getting cut off. Eventually dwindling down into a barely audible groan. Those thuds never seemed to stop either. Never ending, crunching, cracking, and now wet thuds.

Her brain was trying its hardest to process, to catch up with the information that it has been provided with.

More footsteps, only one pair, accompanied with muffled laughter. And a more distinct sound traveling through the air.

A scream.

Even more laughter, hurried footsteps and pleas of ‘no’, ‘please’, ‘don’ts’.

It was now, with the wet stomps still in the background, her screeching friend, that eager laugh, that her brain had finally caught up.

She was going to be sick.

They’re hurting them. Killing them.

Her friends.

Her body moved out of its own violation. Shaky hands and feet kicking and pushing their way out of the pile of clothes. Wardrobe door swinging open with a creak.

She collapsed out of it. Slumped on the floor, dry heaving. Her lungs not seeming to take enough air in but yet holding in too much. She couldn’t function. Fear overwhelmed every part of her. As well as grief.

Her ears were ringing and she was left gasping, drool dripping onto the hard floor beneath her as a result of her attempted vomiting. Eyes wide open, blurry when she tapped back into her mind.

Tears, clouding her vision and dripping audibly on the floorboards below her.

In the distance she could hear muffled talking. Two men, she could make out more clearly. Not only that, but squelching, wet, gooey noises seemed to mingle in the air. Gurgling was the next before silence.

A minute passed, maybe two before the footsteps started up again. Those goddamn footsteps.

1.. 2.

But they were slower than before. Steady. Taking their time.

And getting closer.

Her instincts kick in, blinking profusely to try and clear her eyes from the tears, looking up and darting around before landing on the space under her bed.

She wouldn’t have enough time to fix her spot back in the wardrobe. She couldn’t run past them, not even in her best state which she certainly wasn’t in right now. She had considered her bedroom window as an option, but it was locked, which would take time to open. Not even mentioning the fact she was on the third floor, so jumping out would break at least something important. They would be quick to notice as well, and if they came for her, it was likely they would decide to chase her down.

Under her bed seemed to be her best option at the moment, and she was running out of time. Scrambling as quietly as she could, she slid herself directly under her bed, trying to center herself in the middle of it, tucking herself into a tight ball.

The footsteps stopped right outside her bedroom door, she had enough sense to shut it on her way in, thank god. But that clearly wouldn’t be enough to stop them.

Almost as if the person was teasing her, they slowly clicked the door open. The distinct creak she had grown accustomed to over the months making itself known.

Her muscles are tense, tightening in the presence of her predators.

In the dark space from under her bed and in her room, it was obvious when the light from inside the hallway started spilling in the more the door got pushed open. In the vague depths of her mind it registered that they must’ve either turned the hall lights on, had taken one of her lanterns, or were carrying one of their own.

Her lungs were burning with the effort to keep her body running with the little air she was allowing them to have, all for the sake of trying to keep quiet.

It was all too silent once again, only for a second or two before the second pair of footsteps came towards her. A lot more hasty compared to the other ones.

Her breath silently hitched, the new person pushed their way into the room, stepping past their company before a thunk was heard. The sound forced her body to startle, jolting her muscles and kick starting her trembling again. An uncontrollable reaction to the fear she was under, the unrelenting motions causing a deep ache in her ribs.

The sound of rustling was now heard. It seemed they were looking for something. ‘They’re going to kill me. They’re digging around for a weapon to stab me with, to bash my head in, to murder me like they did my friends. I’m dead. I’m dead, I’mdeadI’mdeadI’mdead-’

Her racing thoughts consuming her fear riddled mind failed in picking up the sound of the other pair of footsteps slowly creeping round to the end of her bed.

The person paused, silently crouching down low before a pair of hands reached under.

The sudden tight grip on her ankles followed up by the sudden pull had her screeching. Pure terror flooding her veins. She had been yanked out from under her bed, lying sprawled on the floor and gazing up at the towering man stationed above her.

Her lungs burned, seizing up before a sickening scream escaped her. Fuelled by genuine, unrestrained horror.

They had found her.

One of her lanterns they had brought in illuminated his face in a haunting light. The darkened shadows stretching and contorting behind him to create the most grim image for her mind to paint. Not that it was far off.

A foot standing on either side of her hips, straddling her if it wasn’t for his standing position. Hands nestled comfortably back in his trouser pockets now they had done the job of retrieving her. A comfortable looking long-sleeved shirt adorned his figure. Dark splatters starting from the bottom of his shoes and creeping their way up his legs, tapering off into a few spots that painted one of his cheeks.

An easy smile softly ingrained on his face, followed by gentle looking eyes peering down at her if it wasn’t for the malicious spiral she found herself paralyzed in. Dark locks of hair extended down his back, past where she could see from her position, with the top layers sectioned off and tied back into a bun.

His mouth opened and he spoke. “Well, well. Look what I’ve caught for us Satoru.”

Satoru. The other man must be Satoru Gojo, and this was Suguru. Suguru Geto. The most popular guys she knew, the supposedly kindest. And then staring in the library, the walk back from the shops, the gossip her most likely dead friend had told her.

Her body suddenly felt like it was pumped full of adrenaline. Pushing herself up as fast as she could, using the bed as support all the while stumbling over her numb riddled legs. She took off, running towards the open door she so desperately wanted to pass through.

A sudden arm snatched her from around her waist and she screeched. Pure instinct driving her at this point as she scratched and kicked and flailed in his, Satoru Gojo’s, hold.

The sound of something dropping before his other arm came round, collecting both her wrists in one hand of his. His grip tightened the more she fought. Her body pressed tight against his, her back to his front. His head situated itself on her shoulder, tucking over and pressing his cheek to hers even while she cried and panted and kicked.

She could feel his grin pressing against the side of her face. “Such a pretty little thing we have here. Can’t let her get away so easily now, can we? Not after all the trouble we’ve gone through.” The last part practically whispered into her ear as she turned her face as far away as possible from him.

A little laugh boasted out from Geto. “Of course not.” He strolled over to them, bending down to pick up what Gojo had dropped in order to restrain her.

Rope.

Fucking rope.

The moment her eyes zoned in and processed what Geto was unravelling in his hands she tried to fight back even harder. Eyes flooding with tears that spilled down her cheeks. Short mumblings of ‘no’ being repeated over and over while becoming louder until she was yelling.

“Please don’t do this! Let me go! Please, please.. Stop!” She shrieked while sobbing, convinced they were going to kill her or torture her or something horrible like that.

Gojo walked the two of them to the edge of her bed before forcefully pushing her down, manhandling her onto her front and bending her arms to rest pressing against her back.

She sobbed into her ruffled sheets as she felt Geto fastening the rope tight around her wrists, the rough material digging into and pinching the sensitive skin. Raw and red marks already forming amidst her struggle.

Her legs still hung off the bed, trying their best to kick and hopefully injure one or both of them, but she knew it was a losing battle. None of her landing blows made them falter in any way.

When her wrists were successfully restrained Geto kept them pressed to the small of her back while Gojo let go and reached down to grab her ankles. Pulling them up and bending her legs at the knees while they both worked in finishing the task of tying her up.

When they finally stepped back to admire the work they’d successfully done, Y/n deflated. Tears soaking into her bed in which she rested on top of. Her lungs still burned, having never stopped. The hogtied position she had been forced into leaving her nothing to work with in terms of escaping. Not that she could think clearly anyway. The distress she was under proved too much.

“Oh, Shh Sh Sh… There, there, sweet thing. Settle down for us now. We aren’t going to kill you.” Cooed, who she could only guess right now was Gojo.

Geto reached forward from his position of kneeling on the bed, gentle soothing pets stroking her hair. Her sobbing tapering off into hiccupped breathing even while flinching with every touch. “There you go, good girl. See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He pulled away from her, stepping down off the bed and heading towards the previously discarded bag on the floor Y/n hadn’t noticed before..

Y/n slowly turned her head round, no longer pressed into her sheets. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, swollen from all the crying she’d been doing. Little hiccups and groans left her while her lungs tried to recover. She’d given up struggling right now, it had done nothing but cause her pain as the rope dug and squeezed the skin of her wrists and ankles.

Gojo piped up from behind her, only now feeling the heat from his legs pressing into hers causing her to flinch. “You know, this would’ve gone a whole lot easier if you had just let us in sweetheart.” She could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “Look at where you are now, tied up all pretty for us. Ripe for the taking.” He pressed closer to her at that, voice practically dripping with need.

She whined in fear and started squirming at his words. Panic flooding her senses again for just a second before a sharp tug to her hair had her yelping, halting her movements.

“I thought I told you to quit that.” Geto was back to kneeling on the bed in front of her, his hand gripping tight onto her hair, eyes narrowed.

Her bottom lip trembled, breaths picking up with every second he glared down at her.

“Don’t be so mean, Sugu.” Gojo said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

Geto glanced back at him before humming and letting go of his harsh grip, her scalp burning in turn. “I suppose you’re right. She’ll have plenty of time to learn when we take her back home.”

Gojo hummed and she felt him leaning away from her, hearing him crouch down and fiddle with something from the bag as well.

“Back home?..” She stuttered, voice hoarse and throat dry.

Geto looked back down at her, amusement painting his face. “Yes. Home.”

“Where..” She started, face formed in a twist of concern and confusion. “Please.. I.. Just let me go. I won’t- I won’t tell anyone, I’ll- I’ll leave you alone, I’ll do anything, please..” She gasped out, tears gathered freshly in her eyes again, voice cracking every few seconds.

An amused eyebrow raised with the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth was all she got as a response.

Gojo had come back, reaching round and fastening a strip of duct tape around her mouth in a sudden flurry of movement. Giving her no time to process what he had done until after he had done it.

She cried out, the sound muffled thanks to the tape, worried eyes darting around in panic as she tried squirming again for the third time.

Gojo pressed up behind her once again. “You’re not going anywhere, sweet pea! You’re ours now. We’ve had you picked out for a long time now.” The joy in his voice didn’t fail to put her on edge, his words doing their part in helping the tears gathered in her waterline to finally spill down her cheeks. Wetting the tape situated over her lips.

“He’s right.” Geto replied. Bringing one of his hands up to show what he had collected from the bag a few moments ago. The mobile phone in his hands glowed brightly in the dark room, the lamp from before having been moved, the light now dim.

“We’ll bring you back with us soon enough, but we still have a few more hours to kill before that. And why waste them.” Gojo said, the grin in his voice unsettling her, keeping her frozen in fear.

An easy smile pulled at Geto’s cheeks at that, head tilting to the side to gaze down at their pretty prey.

“Well what are you waiting for then, Satoru?”

A pause. Smile pulling into a predatory grin.

“Have at it.”

#geto x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere geto #yandere geto suguru #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo x reader #yandere geto x reader

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gyuswhore · 1 year

Text

How to Win Hearts for Dummies (the answer is lattes and banana bread)

Idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader

genre: fluff, angst, one sided pining

warnings: slow burn, swearing, shitty bosses, some descriptions of anxiety and breakdowns, one sided pining, reader has issues opening up (lmk if there's anything else)

13.4k words (im sorry)

plot: This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

masterlist

(A/N): repost bc Tumblr wouldn’t show it in the tags!!! Thank you for clicking on this clonking my pants as I hit post ! I started working on this at the beginning of exam season and I’m posting it the night before my last exam 🥲 what a full circle moment. Also pls excuse any inconsistencies or grammatical errors, my beta reader, unlike me, actually cares ab her grades and is in the beginning of exam season and therefore will not be able to read through this monstrosity for a while lmao. Enjoy hehe

Edit: I’ve just realised how many mistakes and grammatical errors I’ve made throughout the fic, serves me right for proofreading at 3 AM after a stats exam. I’ll try to fix them all asap!!!

The camera goes off again with a distinct click. And again. And again. And again.

The camera had gone off innumerable times since Mingyu walked out in another themed ensemble, and you were there, watching, through all of it.

You watched as he kept switching positions, rotating his body and his head. Morphing his features into more variations of dazed and serious than you thought could ever exist.

Standing there, at the portable table behind the main setup, attempting to clean a lip brush that would be needed soon when the inevitable call for-

“Makeup over here! We’re taking 5”

You note your sluggish pace as you snap out of your daze and scrubbing harder with the removal cloth. Snapping your head down, hoping nobody noticed your incessant heart eyes, you realize you were in trouble now.

‘Y/n, you’ve been cleaning that brush since I left 10 minutes ago!’ The senior makeup artist snapped.

You finish up the brush in hand and quickly hand her what she needs, not before rummaging for the tiny pot of lip product you absent-mindedly packed away.

‘Sorry, really sorry’ you choke out before she leaves in her badly concealed irritated expression. You see her make a beeline for a waiting Mingyu, who adorably squats for the woman so she has better access.

This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

It's not that you were overage (your mother begs to differ), but considering you were on your second big girl job and still no sign of a potential lover, the prospect was starting to weigh on your head. The first rattling experience was when one of your closest friends announced her engagement, your thoughts still stuck in a 19 year old you considered she was too young. She was not, in fact, 19, or too young, but a perfectly acceptable age to consider marriage with someone she loved, you had soon realized. You were never one for the dating scene, but you were always one to don your Dr. Love labcoat whenever an emotionally bruised friend would come seeking help. You were good at advice, but awfully bad at applying it yourself.

Coming into this job, surrounded by a plethora of beautiful people, your heart would be of stone if it weren’t to waver.

The gong of unattainability had struck the second you laid eyes on Mingyu, laughing at something Hoshi had shown him on the phone. There he was, hair and makeup-less, looking like he had just rolled out of bed (which he had), and beautiful as ever. Beginning this new chapter with a bang, only problem was that it turned into an 8 month shoot out. Having encountered a number of gorgeous people, you’d learned to appreciate their genetic lottery pull and move on. But never had a single look left you as breathless and unbeared as that one, fateful look at Mingyu. One of the team members was busy assuring you not to worry too much about the pandemonium in the dressing room, that everyone would handle it and you were only asked to observe and help with smaller things as instructed; for now. You weren’t listening too hard though.

You were now adjusted to the chaos that comeback season and 13 men plus staff in a microscopic dressing room brought about. But you will never forget how in the midst of your first rain of hell, Mingyu had asked you to pass his phone.

‘Please?’ He had said, and you slammed your hand with a force of a woman infatuated on the table behind you and (literally) breathed out the first thing you had ever said to him.

‘Here’

He smiled and gave you a quick ‘thanks’.

There was no coming back after he flashed you those irresistible canines, and to this day, you wonder what nation you saved in a previous life to be able to have him know your name, hear it roll off his tongue in his pretty voice as he asks you to fix his smudged eyeliner.

You sigh defeatedly before your mentor slash irritated makeup artist shoves her load back in your hands and instructs you to come inside to pack up. It’s become routine for you now, as you begin to pack up the bigger palettes and tools, handing a ready-to-go-home Junhui the pack of makeup wipes he asked for, zipping up bags and closing tubs of outfits. It's an organized chaos but one everybody has grown to work around.

Mingyu is done before you, as he removes his jewelry and begins to shrug off his jacket. You scramble to find the clothes he came in and his coat, pointedly ignoring the familiar scent of wood. He thanks you and shucks off the remainder of his clothing, he might be used to stripping in front of professional staff, but you look away regardless for your own sanity.

Helping the last stylists hang the final jacket, you grab your bag and get ready to leave in your own car. Mingyu has left, not before throwing a “you did well, thank you!” over his shoulder at the remaining people in the room and leaving for the honking car outside.

***

Your mashing bananas in a bowl at 12 AM when you start thinking. Impulsive baking sessions had become a norm since you started working with Seventeen, needing to keep yourself occupied to stop spiraling. Mingyu was a recurring topic (surprise surprise), but one that quickly faded when you begin to think about what the future holds for you. You start mashing the banana harder. You consider the idea that you can’t complain, being in a position some of the most well seasoned pros had difficulty reaching. Being a single young woman and being allowed so close to some of the most unattainable men was seen as near impossible. You’d like to think it was your skill that got you here but can never seem to fully rule out a processing error.

It’s hard, being stuck in the same place. Your apprenticeship should have ended 2 months ago, but even if it had, you’d still be doing the same thing. The senior artist trusts no-one but a select few to work on the boys for photoshoots, events, music videos. People like you are left to sanitize sponges and clean the fallout.

You crack an egg on the counter and it splits open entirely, falling on the floor, yolk and all. Your inability to grow stays within the idea that you can’t really do your artistry like you want.

And how you never learn to crack your eggs on the bowl.

***

Showing up on the Going Seventeen set, you rush to the dressing room way earlier than you should. Being completely honest, you’re really only rushing because you want to maneuvere yourself to do Mingyu’s makeup before somebody else snags him. This was one of the very few engagements where you were occasionally allowed to take charge on makeup. Not that it was required for the show much at all; intensity and occasion wise. Your rare (possible) moment to (maybe) come into Mingyu’s organic notice was an opportunity never to be dropped by you.

You help setting up everything on the counters as the boys begin to (loudly) file in the rooms. You see Mingyu walk in and move to ask him to sit down once he’s done discarding his coat. He was first in line and you ‘happened’ to be the first one ready to begin working.

‘Is the eye makeup heavy? I just got a sty removed and I don’t know if I should be putting anything on at all.’ He asks as he sits down and you ready your damp sponge.

‘Not really, just smoothing things out. It should be fine.’ you say as you begin to press the compact on his cheek.

Your not really sure why, because you’ve never been able to muster anything above brief replies when in contact with him, but something in you pushes you to keep talking.

‘I’m surprised they even asked for us, they rarely ever do’ you continue, heart pounding so hard you’re afraid he might hear it.

He breathes out a laugh ‘Yeah. They even started advertising the show on youtube and subway stations and stuff, I didn’t know until I saw someone talk about it online’

You smile at his response ‘Well, all of you work so hard, it's about time they pull this to a high scale production’

‘It's never really work if your having fun, we try to be ourselves on here’ He replies, still smiling slightly.

You’re damn near close to collapsing on the floor at this point. This is the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. You opt to smile in response as you start to concentrate on his eyebrows. The rest of his face is done far too soon as you zone out and do what you do best.

‘All done’ you announce as you pull away from his lips, trying not to have yoour gaze linger.

“Y/n! Can you start on Vernon if you're done?’, another artist calls from behind.

‘Yeah, he can come up!’ you reply as Mingyu (regretfully) walks towards hair.

Just because you sew your mouth shut with Mingyu doesn’t mean it applies for the rest of them, you’re quite friendly with all of them and Vernon does well to remind you as he sits down and quips a ‘hey bestieee’ in an elongated greeting.

You audibly laugh ‘That’s another word I’ll be hearing for the next month’

‘Regretfully so’ He feigns sympathy.

‘Be quiet and look up’ you say with a fond smile before you get started on him.

***

You sit on the floor in front of your television, trail mix on the coffee table as the movie plays as background noise for your thoughts - again.

There’s a smile on your face, but you dont notice as you think about the small talk you made with Mingyu today, wondering if it could become a regular occurrence if you learned to keep your heart and mind in check.

You were never one to stand up and take effort to do what was right for you, which is why you were talked into choosing Business Administration by your friend in highschool, who you never speak to now because she decided to ditch you for another group who were more inclined to shuttle themselves to liver failure by partying every last weekend in your entire college career. You were talked into applying to corporate jobs by your counsellors as you started looking for make-up courses, needing to abandon your dream for the second time when you landed a decent entry level desk job. It took years before you decided to choose yourself for once and made the big leap after multiple courses you had took on the side. Life was starting to look bright after getting hired here, but you’re not sure if you overrode a high or if you went back to your old zipped mouth state after you settled in. Never sure if you expected too much or if things really were as stagnant as they felt.

***

Overmanifestation can be a thing. You're not really sure how it works but you’re reaping what you’ve sowed right about now.

You’re currently standing in an offside corridor in a hotel lobby, clad in a pretty white floral dress, and a nervous, fidgety Mingyu standing in front of you.

'I know I'm asking you to do something difficult and I know it seems pointless because I'm not doing anything wrong either that you have to lie about it'

This was supposed to be a staycation with your friends for you to relax and get your mind off things. Your ticket to relaxation has become a nightmare.

'And I understand I'm being super unreasonable but I'm really trying to keep it on the down-low as we get to know each other'

You were waiting with your friends on the couches positively stuffing your faces with the complimentary chocolate bowl placed on the coffee table as a couple other friends checked you guys into your rooms. You were laughing and talking with your group, carefree and ready to have a week of well deserved rest.

That was the plan anyway. Until you see someone across the lobby, also in line at check in. He had an unmistakable toothy smile,and was hand in hand with a concealed brunette.

Your smile abruptly falls in disbelief as you feel your world halt around you.

The same hands come up to brush the hair out of the woman's face to place a kiss on her temple, smiling wide.

The nauseating feeling of ice going down your spine is becoming more and more apparent. You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat but it's like trying to swallow a brick. You lick your lips and attempt to look away but your eyes keep feeding on the picture you painted yourself in your worst nightmares. Realizing you're on the brink of possible hyperventilation, your friend drops her head and asks you if you're okay. You look up at her, not knowing what to say as you realize that nodding furiously will convince her.

Mingyu has a girlfriend.

Of course he would. What were you thinking? This man is one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, why on earth would he be single? You’re unhinged, you decide, for thinking you may have a chance, when the woman turns around and you see her in full. She’s gorgeous.

A part of you still wants to believe that you're officially past the point of sanity and that you've begun to see Mingyu in every tall man. The universe, however, is cruel. He pushes his head up and in your general direction, and locks eyes with you in unmistakable recognition.

He stops smiling.

So here you are listening to Mingyu asking you to keep this a secret from the company, to forget the woman waiting for him in the lobby.

You can only nod in slight motions as he goes on his rant to justify his oath to secrecy, managing a tight lipped smile as you miraculously find your voice, hoarse as it may be.

'Don't worry about it, I understand' - ouch - 'it's none of my business anyway. I'll keep my lips sealed, I promise'

'Thank you, thank you, thank you I appreciate it so much, you don't even know. I'll repay you soon I promise'

'No, please, it's not-'

'No, Y/n I will. You're being really good to me right now and I'm so grateful. I'm sorry for putting you through this while you're off from work and with friends. It's worth to me that your listening and understanding'

You're tired. You want nothing but for him to stop talking. So you smile again and shake your head.

'I'm sure your friends are waiting, I won't keep you. I'll see you soon though!'

And with that he leaves. Back to the lobby where you see him take the woman by hand once again. You watch again as they walk to the elevators, stepping in and disappearing when the doors close. You watch the floor number rise.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

You walk back to your laughing friends before you can see where they got off.

***

Retiring to your shared hotel room with Chaeyoung, you fall back first into the crisp sheets and mattress.

'Why're you so depressed dude, did Mingyu say something to you?' She asks, a slight line forming between her brows.

'I'm fine, I've been up since 5 today it's just fatigue hitting me right now' you reassure, like always. 'I might not go to dinner with you guys, might end up with my face in the soup at some point'

Chaeyoung hums. ‘Take the night off so you can gear up for the rest of the week. I'm letting you off for now but I expect full attendance for eveything else we do', finishing with a mocking stern look.

'Yes ma'am' you feign salute from the bed, mimicking her stern tone.

You've known Chaeyoung for quite a while now, meeting her in your last year of uni. Trusting her as you do, you were never fully able to fess up about your feelings for Mingyu. Fear of judgment wasn't the problem, but more so the strange feeling of shame that overcomes you when you think about talking about it with other people. It's quite beyond you, why you act this way. You loved your friends and you knew they would support you with everything, they'd proved it when you'd made one of the most difficult decisions of your life while leaving your job. But the idea of having the audacity to love someone who could never do the same seemed like a feat of embarrassment.

Who are you, y/n? Who are you to have foolish dreams of a girl in love? With someone clearly fit for all things greater than you?

Maybe this was a good thing, you thought, the weird feeling in your stomach returning. Maybe this was the universe telling you to give up and move on, a kind of rejection that keeps your dignity. This was nothing but a reality check, a sign from whatever wants best for you, to bring your attention back to what brought you to Mingyu in the first place.

***

You didn’t see Mingyu for the rest of the trip, which you were grateful for not knowing how you’d react if you had to see him so soon after, that.

Back massaged and head clearer than it had been for weeks, you feel more in control of your feelings and thoughts regarding your life. You hope the conversation with Mingyu was the last stressful thing you’d encounter for a while.

It’s almost comeback season, you realise as you see the new concept photos while scrolling on your couch at home. This meant insanely early mornings for weeks on end, but you had to push through for your own sake. You’d come out of multiple comebacks needing a brace for a month but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Never realising the true meaning of learning through experience, you were enlightened as you entered this new, very hands on field. The concept looked interesting, hoping the scraps of makeup you’d be allowed to do would be fun for you.

That ended up being true when you were, for the first time, asked to do Hoshi’s full makeup for their first comeback broadcast.

Your stumped silence was short lived as you hastily oblige and get the chair ready for him. You’d looked at the demo sheets and face charts too much for someone who wasn’t actually going to be asked to do much, but you see it pay off as you finish his eyes and get started on the rest of his face. It was easy for you to zone out as Soonyoung had passed out not even 5 minutes in, having someone hold his face as you worked.

You felt your chest swell with an indesipherable feeling as you watched him get up with your mastery on his face; pride, was it? You were getting emotional for no reason. Your attention, however, is moved sharply when you hear someone tell Mingyu it was his turn, finding him plopped on your chair staring straight into nothingness as he’d just been rudely awoken from his nap. He doesn’t realise it’s you for a solid minute as he tried to remember his own name.

‘Oh, hello’ he says, sort of confused. ‘Sorry, just give me minute’, he mumbles as he rubs his eyes.

He stretches back onto his seat signalling he’s ready for you to get started. You trying not to feel too much in your stomach as you begin.

You’re powdering his forehead when he says “I know I already said this but I really appreciate what you’re doing”

You know he’s talking about the conversation at the hotel, you were hoping you could avoid it.

“I told you not to worry about it, honest.” You reply, and somehow manage to choke out “It makes me happy that you’re happy”

You can see him trying to fight a smile, “Thank you for saying that”.

You wanted to stab someone. But you opt for gently brushing a base colour across his eyes.

“Do any of us know her, by any chance?” You ask cautiously.

“I dont think so. We met through mutual friends at a Christmas dinner, we didn’t start talking till she had to bring me a bunch of papers I’d left at my mom’s that day.” his face depicts someone reminiscing a fond memory.

It was cute, how it seemed like fate was trying to bring them together. It would've been cuter if you weren’t in a one sided pining with one of the two lovers.

“Well, I hope it works out for the both of you”

No you don’t.

“I hope so too”

You don’t hope that at all.

You felt guilty, feeling all of this. Hated that this was your first response to him wanting to be happy. Never would you have imagined stooping this low, hoping his happiness doesn’t work out for your sake. You’d like to owe it this being your first real infatuation, but you can’t help but wonder if this was really what you thought.

You decided to focus on the good news for today, that you’re finally allowed to do your actual job. You can only hope this wasn’t a temporary advancement, allowing time to tell.

Things remained the same the following day, much to your absolute elation. You were done doing 4 people’s makeup and was just winding down to take a break, quite satisfied with yourself. You observed as the rest of the boys got their hair done and run around, half in their outfits. You stifle a snort as you watch Jeonghan hide Minghao’s socks in his pockets as the boy tried to find them to put his shoes on, the former continuing to sip on his coffee seemingly unaware.

“Y/n, have you seen my socks? The green ones with the leaves on it?” Hao inevitable asks you.

You’re forced to feign confusion when Jeonghan pokes his head behind him signalling you to keep up the charade. He continues to look and you’re just about to have mercy on the poor boy before a to-go cup of coffee is shoved in front of your face.

You look up at the person and it’s Mingyu extending his arm at you expectantly.

“Oh, I didn’t order anything” you start, thinking you’re clearing up a confusion.

“I know you didn’t, got one for you anyway.”

There’s a record screech in your brain as you absorb his words.

“Think of it as me trying to repay the favour”

Oh. I see.

You’re a little embarrassed thinking he’d get one for you in that way, not when he had someone waiting on him. You accept the cup and mumble a thank you as he unexpectedly plants himself on the couch next to you.

“I saw you drinking lattes a lot of the times, so I just got you that. Hope that’s okay”.

Your silent for a moment before replying “Yes!” a little bit too loudly, eyes widening a little realisng your lack of volume control.

He knows your coffee order.

“Yes,” you say again in a normal tone and a slight laugh to cover up your inability to read the room, “They’re my favourite actually”

Kim Mingyu knows you like latte’s. This wasn’t good for your delusional brain.

Your conversation is cut short when the boys are called for roll call before they can prepare for the actual stage. You watch him get up and leave to file into the overstuffed elevators, not before he throws you the most adorable wave you’ve ever seen. You can’t hold back your smile as you wave back and look down at the drink he got you before taking a sip.

***

As it turns out, you did makeup for the rest of their comeback season, and Mingyu, without fail, got you an iced latte every single day before leaving to go on stage.

You tried to get him to stop, but he was rooted in his position and you didn’t have it in you to say no to his pleading eyes. It was a re-charge for you, when you’d seen him break into a happy smile, prominent canines that you’d grown to adore. He’d done more than enough to ‘repay’ you for swearing to secrecy, and you felt like you too, should should repay him the balance.

So here you were, making banana bread in your kitchen again, careful to remember to crack your eggs on the rim of your mixing bowl instead of slamming them on the counter. You’re stirring the flour in when a classified devious thought occurs to you.

These past two weeks were pivotal for both you and Mingyu, daily coffee’s meant daily conversations, which meant getting to know one another more. You’d exchanged phone numbers in the midst of all of this, to which ensued the agenda of staying up till midnight talking to each other about the meaning of life.

Setting down the whisk, you pick up your phone and sent the text before you chickened out.

[You]: I have a surprise for you.

[You]: You wanna come over? It’s better enjoyed fresh lol

[Mingyu]: Ma’am? 👁👁

[Mingyu]: That sounds a whole lot like a booty call

[You]: *attachment*

[Mingyu]: IS THAT CAKE??

[Mingyu]: omw 😮‍💨

You send the location and set your phone down, a jittery feeling going through your entire body. There’s a spring in your step as you slide the loaf into the oven and set a timer. You turn around your kitchen island and register the pigsty that is your apartment. The girls were over the night before and you had done nothing to enlighten the aftermath, pillows strewn across the entire living room and snack wrappers in places you’re not sure how they landed.

By the time you’re done and spritzed the place with some of your nicer perfumes, your taking the loaf out of the oven and on a rack to cool.

Ever the punctual man, you hear the doorbell ring just as your taking your oven mitts off.

Hoping you’ve done enough to your apartment to save yourself from embarrassment, you collect yourself and open the door for him through your ringcam. He’s barely through when your rushing towards your doorway.

“Hi!”

“Hey,” he grunts as he tries to slip off his shoes.

“‘aight, where’s my cake?” he demands once he’s done giving you a quick hug.

You roll your eyes and usher him to the kitchen, “First of all, appreciate how excited you are to see me, and second, its banana bread not cake, sorry to burst your bubble”

He responds to your grumbling with an “Oh come on, you can't put freshly baked goods on the agenda and expect me to pay particular attention to anything else”.

He has his trademarked grin and cheesy stare out on display like its nobody’s business, you want to slap it off of him in the most loving way possible, but you settle with a tiny “shut up”.

“I brought warm coffee this time, thought it’d go better” He sets the to-go carrier on the kitchen counter, following you to where you were attempting to slice the still hot banana bread on a tray.

“Oh, that was a good idea” you say.

“Where’re your plates and forks?” he asks, pulling out the drawers and cabinets you signal to.

It all felt too domestic for your weak heart to handle. Not to say it didn’t warm you to the core how comfortable he felt in your space, you did, more than you’d care to admit. But he needed to tone it down before you required an organ transplant.

You were seated on the floor, butts parked on floor cushions, backs against the couch. The coffee table held all of your goods while you both argued on which movie to watch.

“I can’t believe you haven’t watched any of the Harry Potter movies! No, we’re watching philosopher’s stone, I don’t care!” You shout in disbelief, already typing it into the search bar on the TV.

“Philly-philo- bro I can’t even pronounce it why would I watch that?!” He yells back, snatching the remote from you.

You’re both a giggling, screaming mess on the floor as you keep trying to steal the remote from each other, not stopping until one of you bumps into the table and you almost spill hot coffee all over yourselves.

You decide to call a truce and pick another movie entirely.

Just as you’re pressing play, Mingyu takes a bite of the still (surprisingly) warm banana bread and you watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“This is so good” He says, his faced furrowed as he goes in for another bite. “Did you lace this with something, why is this so good?”

You’re biting back a snarky remark but you let it rip anyway; “It’s cuz these pretty hands made it”

You splay your hands out in front of your face, like your showing him your rings, fingers wiggling and a cheeky smile on your face.

He looks unimpressed as he scoffs. He swallows before saying: “At least you didn’t call the secret ingredient love or something”

“Excuse you, I’m pretty sure I heard you say that in some Gose episode” You remark.

He turns to you, all smug: “So your saying you watch Gose? Like, regularly?”

You immediately turn away from his taunting smirk, “Sometimes, if it shows up on my home page”

You take a sip of your latte before he asks you another sweat producing question.

“Oh, but you pay attention to me the most don’t you? Don’t you?”

He’s poking fun at you, you know that. But a paranoid part of you can’t help but think he’s onto you and your feelings.

So you say something maybe a little bit below the belt.

“You sure have a knack for seeking validation from the world when you have a partner already giving that to you”

The words tumble out of your mouth before you know it. In your defence, you're doing this for a greater cause, but it's still a relief when you see him comically gasp, hand to his diaphragm.

“Just because your alone in life, doesn’t mean you need to be salty about other people receiving actual love” He spits back.

Your sputtering trying to think of a response. Deserved.

He grabs a slice of the bread and shoves into your mouth to shut you up once and for all. You’re left chewing the mouthful and staring at him in shock.

He giggles and takes a sip of coffee, satisfied with himself. When he sets it down he opens his mouth to speak. Closes it again, like he re-evaluating, and finally decides to say something. He’s serious now.

“Ji Eun and I, decided it wasn’t gonna work out between us”.

Oh.

“Oh.”

He blows a raspberry and lets out a meek laugh.

“Yeah, oh. It’s whatever, it wasn’t meant to work out. Better sooner than later.”

You’re trying to find the words to reply or comfort him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask him, being careful to not lace your voice with pity, but more neutral and open. “You don’t have to, obviously, but it might be better to talk about what’s bothering you”

He pauses for a moment before starting.

“She wasn’t sitting very well with the idea that she had to share me. Like at all. She wouldn’t say it but she’d get mildly infuriated when I’d blow the fans a kiss or something, or interacted with the staff too much. I was getting home quite late certain days during comeback season and I’d find her outside the dorm at like 11 PM. It was embarrassing when all of the other members would see her there, obviously upset and basically yelling at me for, for - for literally just doing my job.I guess all the smaller things just started piling and she couldn’t take it. I tried so hard to make sure she felt wanted and secure in the relationship but nothing felt like it was ever enough. She was evasive or confrontational all at the wrong times and it came to a point- its a horrible thought to have in a relationship - but I was terrified she’d do something rash and I’d wake up to my face on articles for some reason - again”

You recollected the past couple years when Mingyu was thrown around in the media for a new accusation seemingly everyday. You weren’t involved with anything regarding the industry back then, but you’d heard enough news to be aware of what was happening.

Your heart swelled with sadness as you heard him talk, he sounded like he was trying- trying hard to be good enough. All for a person who seemed to have their priorities set somewhere else.

“She was amazing; kind and happy and confident. She treated my parents with respect, she was best friends with my sister. I know we only lasted like 3 months but at some point I really considered that she could be the one. But then the problems started and I realized she was only becoming an added factor to stress and anxiety for me more than anything else.

“I liked her because she was so family oriented, and I thought that was what would fit me because I’m like that too. But, I guess I’m just a different kind of oriented? I don’t know. I have a job that’s both interpersonal and unpredictable. There’s days where I don’t wanna get up and do work but I still love it nonetheless. I guess she just expected me to have a predictable, stable 9 to 5. Home in time for dinner, not requiring interaction with too many people; basically everything I can’t be.”

He’s silent for a moment.

You start talking after a couple beats.

“I really hope you aren’t taking this like it’s your fault. She made a choice to put up with your work, knowing how it would be for the both you. You tried your best but she made you feel like your best wasn’t good enough. I dunno about you, but that sounds like a really problematic conclusion. If she truly cared for you and what you love, she would never have been this unsupportive or not understanding”.

He’s listening to you, his expression is blank but you can tell he’s absorbing your words.

“I’d like to think I had realized that. But being completely honest, I’m not really sure when my thoughts go back to me thinking I’m the problem all the time.”

He manages a smile, a wide one, as he looks up to make eye contact with you; “But I know it’ll take me some time to really start believing that it’s not entirely my fault. We just weren’t compatible, and that’s fine. We left on good terms, and I’m happy about that.”

You smile with him as he finishes, but your a little confused when he starts sliding closer and down the cushions.

He sets his head on your shoulder.

You may have shortcircuited right then and there.

“Is this okay?” he asks you quietly, attention finally diverted to the half played movie.

You realise he asked you a question and you have to answer.

“Yeah, this is fine” You breathe out, somehow, by the graces of God himself.

No, you weren’t fine at all. You felt like the universe had flipped a faulty switch, mixed up the scripts, lost the plot, something. But as you get used to the weight of Mingyu’s head on your shoulder, you pray it won’t come back to haunt you in another chapter.

***

Your routine became inverted in the sense that, what you once had to plan out so intricately, is unfolding with no effort from you at all.

You find that Mingyu waits for you to be done with somebody else so you can do his makeup, instead of sitting on another free chair. He’d come to you specifically to touch up his makeup instead of going to an artist he saw closer to him. He never forgot to get you a coffee whenever it was that he saw you.

Mingyu hadn’t slept over that night, instead leaving in his car despite the 1 AM drizzle and your insistence for him to stay until the pour recedes.

Maybe it was better for you that he hadn’t stayed that night. Something about how you grew so close ‘organically’ made you feel like this wasn’t all in your head, that he’s choosing to be your friend.

You’re handing him his clothes as he begins to change, using the excuse to whisper to him;

“I was gonna try a new brownie recipe tonight, if you’re free you can come over?”

“I think I have somewhere to be after this but I’m free after, How’s 6?”

So there you are, back in your kitchen folding chocolate chunks into your brownie batter while waiting for Mingyu to get here.

Your phone dings from the island and you check to see a message from Mingyu sending you what looked like a grocery list; pasta, oregano, garlic…

[Mingyu]: Tell me what you don’t have from this

[Mingyu]: I’m at the store rn hurry up

You send him a list of what you don’t have, realising he intended to have dinner with you too.

[Mingyu]: k thanks

[Mingyu]: be there in like an hour

There’s a warm feeling that’s swelling in your chest, that makes you wanna punch a wall because your so happy. You choose self control, mostly because this apartment is on a lease but also you’d probably break your knuckles trying to punch anything harder than a foam mat.

By the time Mingyu’s here, the brownies are in the oven and you’re almost done with the icing. He unpacks the groceries (and the warm lattes) he bought while you finish up, confirming that he was trying a new pasta recipe tonight. Setting the brownies and coffee down on your usual coffee table, you decide wait a couple hours before starting on making dinner, instead choosing to hear him ramble about an idol he met at an award show.

“So, we start talking before we’re ready to go up- you weren’t there you were working on wonwoo’s makeup- and he starts complimenting me and so obviously I start complimenting him back”

He’s waving his arms around, and setting positions with coasters on the table trying to explain the setting.

“He asks me if I have a sister and I’m like… yes? Which I should’ve realised where this was going because he then” - he pauses to take a deep breath - “this absolute asshat decides it’d be funny to ask me for her number because apparently ‘if you’re this hot, I’m sure any sibling you have is too’ BRO, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY THAT - how are laughing at this?!”

You calm yourself down for a second to clarify, “NO! It’s just hilarious how he thought that was okay to say”

You’re still still giggling in shock when Mingyu calms down, now also laughing incredulously.

“But actually though, please tell me you smacked him” you manage.

“I would have,” he grumbles “I got called to fix my hair cuz I ruined it or something”.

“Oh well, now you know who to avoid next time,” you say as you guide a bite of brownie into his mouth, “Forget about it now, eat sugar, it’ll help”

He chews a bit before swallowing, all while you’re watching him with an endeared smile on your face.

“Y’know, I really thought you didn’t like me when you first joined the team”

You pause mid sip of your coffee, brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“You never really talked me, did you? You were friendly with the rest of them but it just seemed like you never wanted to enter a room if you saw me there”

You’re looking at him in utter shock, this man was mistaking your avoidant (yet also pushy) teenage crush behaviour for dislike.

He’s looking at you expectantly, a little pout on his face.

“I never disliked you, why would you think that? I promise everything was a coincidence, it was nothing like that”

“Don’t get so defensive, kinda obvious you like me now if not before” He laughs at your panicked expression.

He meant platonic like.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that though, I’ve been told I have a pretty serious resting bitch face, it’s gotten me in trouble before” she smile sheepishly.

“It’s fine, you made up for it with that first banana bread” He says before taking another bite of brownie, “Could use more chocolate chunks”

You snort before pushing him with a sock clad foot, “Appreciate me even giving them to you”

You fall back to the adjacent sofa.

It’s quiet for a moment. But you feel like something’s shifted in the air.

You watch as he brings his hand to the same foot, holding onto your ankles. He’s caressing the exposed skin with his fingers, moving them back and forth. His eyes are glued to yours, looking like he’s in a trance. You’re not sure how to register this new change in mood, suddenly feeling like you need to turn the aircon on during the bleak Seoul winter. Just as you're hoping you don’t start sweating, you feel his vice grip on your ankle pull your leg over with a sharp tug. You scream as you lose support of the sofa and fall back.

You sit up in shock to find him leaning with his elbows on the floor, cackling like madman.

“Mingyu, what the fuck?”

“You-” He stops to laugh again, “You should’ve seen your face, PLEASE, it was hilarious”.

You huff before getting up shoving his shoulder with your foot again, “You’ve been playing guest a little too long, maybe it’s time you get started on that pasta”

“Will I be blessed enough to be receiving her highness’s help?” He asks.

He looks like a dream, clad in his T-shirt because he claims he doesn’t get cold. Hands behind him on the floor to give him support as he stares up at you, smiling wide. He’s looking at you with eyes full of stars and glitter.

You muster up the courage to give him a nasty glare, to which he huffs at and gets up, “Such a meanie”.

It’s hard to conceal your smile as his back his turned, sachaying towards the kitchen. You want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

Your washing veggies in the sink when you turn around catch sight of his back as he stood at the kitchen island, sorting the rest of the ingredients. You get the same overwhelming feeling in your chest again, assuming you’re deluding yourself into thinking this is what life could be like with him. In less than 3 seconds, you’ve conjured a timeline of domestic routines, to wind down with him like this every evening.

You’re still lost in thought, still incessantly staring when he turns around and catches you in the act. He does the rude thing and snaps his fingers in front of your face to pull you out of your thoughts, “You okay?”

“Yeah” You say trying to gloss it over while busying yourself trying to find your cutting board.

“Are you sure? Do you wanna sit down at the island and watch me instead. You don’t have to help -”

“Pick a knife, and shut up dingus, it’s fine”

Once your both done eating and cleaning up, Mingyu hugs you goodbye, not before asking if you’d be free for lunch next week before he got busy the following month. You quickly agree, setting a date and time, bidding your (reluctant) farewells.

***

Once back in your apartment you realize how you can’t clean up to distract yourself because Mingyu took it upon himself to clear the space with you before he left. You sigh loudly and retire into your bedroom where you don’t have to think about how empty your living room is.

Changing into your pajamas and putting a headband on, you don’t even feel like turning your music on to do your night routine. You double cleanse, tone, serum, acid and moisturise your face with added purposefulness, taking note of the crevices of your nose and the neglected bottom of your chin. Taking extra time to make sure all of the foam is out of your skin before drying your face with a tissue.

You look at your fed skin in the mirror, and feel a weird surge of tears well in your eyes. Before they can fall you slam your bathroom cabinet to busy yourself to find your melatonin gummies, shoving them in your mouth before switching off the bathroom light and retiring to your bedroom.

Slipping the headband off and sliding into bed, you’re still chewing your gummies to a paste in your mouth. Trying not to notice how heavy you’re breathing you try to find your white noise machine, the one you found advertised for infants, and turn it on before grabbing your book to read for a few extra minutes.

Your staring at the pages like you found them to be blank. You’re phone dings next to you, signalling a notification.

Picking it up you find your mental health app sending you a daily reminder.

You’re allowed to feel your emotions.

***

Winter had run its course as you find yourself in April. You never really liked the cold, having been more sensitive to a gust of wind than the average joe, you were better suited to sitting with an aircon instead of being unable to move in the middle of Korea’s January cold rush. But alas, the cherries are blossoming and your fingers have defrosted.

That isn’t what’s on your mind right now though, as you’re standing in a Sephora, arms crossed and shoulders tense. You loved shopping for makeup, but you mostly chose to do it online unless you really had to otherwise. Parking yourself in the perfume section with the scents mixing together a cocktail of nosehair doom, you really wish you’d worn a face mask. Not to mention the migraine inducing coloured lights and mainstream pop playing in the background (you swear they’ve been playing Side to Side by Ariana Grande on loop since you got here).

These were all, however, peripheral observations for you, as you stare in absolute pneumonic shock at the number written on the price tag of the perfume you’re looking at.

Now, Mingyu is a man of class, high maintenance if you will. You’re well aware he likes to spoil himself, because he has a bank account to back it up.

Your bank account is definitely full and secure, but not enough for you to justify dropping what seems like half of its contents to something only one of the five senses can experience.

Mingyu mentioned in passing how he wanted this perfume a while ago, and knowing that he hadn’t ordered it for himself just yet, you decide to be the amazing friend that you are and surprise him for his birthday.

You may be regretting that right now, but you tentatively pick up the blue, crystalline bottle and spritz a bit on a paper strip before taking a whiff. It smelled good, that’s for sure, and it suited him too. So when the saleslady came to offer assistance, after you excused the last three, you decide you’re going to do this for him.

“Yes, could I have this in the box please?”

Walking back to your car you feel a bount of jitter run through you,

Oh, he’s gonna freak out when he sees this.

He did, in fact, freak when he saw it, and his reaction made you want to give him all of the good things in the world if you could see him like this all the time.

He’s smiling ear to ear and speaking in that high pitched voice that he gets when he’s excited. He’s thanking you over and over again, smoothing the box over in his hands repeatedly, looking at the ‘from: y/n :p’ with hearts in his eyes.

“I’m gonna save this for the rest of my life” he says, with determination and a goofy grin.

You snort at the declaration, “Sure, bud”

“I’m serious. What, you wanna bet?” he replies, taking a sip of his, latte, which you proudly credit yourself for swerving him over from Americano’s.

He insisted on going out to eat at this fancy French place a day before his actual birthday as he’d be busy on the day of, but it was risky for him to be seen eating out alone with a young woman at such a fancy place. You settled for a nicer traditional Korean restaurant, that allowed you to book a room away from possible prying eyes and one that you were both comfortable with. You decided to wait till you were back in the car with your post dinner coffee’s to give him his present.

“I’m giving you 3 months before that bottle’s dry to the dregs” You affirmed, “You smell like you empty half a bottle of something off your dresser everyday anyways”

You said it as an insult, but jokes on you because you loved the way he smelled.

“Fine, I’m gonna use this so carefully I’m not replacing it for at least a year”

“A year? What happened to the rest of your life?” you refute.

“I have you for that, don’t I”

What the fuckity fuck.

He’d turned to you, leaning on the headrest, that signature cheesy look; like he was in love or something. Voice dropping a couple octaves as he said it, laced with something defined and strong - enough for it to feel like the weight of an elephant had dropped on your chest.

You gather yourself after looking at him for a couple seconds, jaw unhinged and forgotten on the floor of his car. You chose to grab your cardigan that was neatly folded on the dash, and astral project it to his face across the seat. He’s laughing so hard there’s tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. He falls forward and you see strands of his hair fall to his face, he’d been growing them out.

“Shut up” you grumble in your seat, annoyed at how easy it was for him to send your heart through and beyond your chest.

He’s still giggling like a school girl, and you cave and give him a hint of a smile.

“There it iiiis” He announces, grabbing your face and smushing your cheeks together.

For a moment, he stops to look at you like this, like he’s contemplating. For one, brain rattling, organ exploding, microsecond, you think he might even kiss you.

Instead, he headbutts you slightly rubbing his head swiftly before letting go.

“I might need to wash my hands, I think I got your makeup on me” He mumbles, looking at his hands like a child with mud soaked palms.

“Serves you right, you buffoon,” You remark as you pull out your trusty travel pack of makeup wipes.

Yanking one out of the tab, you pull his hand over and try to wipe the remnants of foundation off, starting from the heel up to each individual finger. It’s silent as you concentrate on getting it all off both hands, he was wearing black tonight and knowing him he’d rub his hand over his pants and get beige foundation all over. You knew because you’d seen him do it one too many times.

“All done” you quip, looking up and catching his stare. He’s smooth to slowly look away and retract his open hands from your lap about 5 seconds after it became noticeable.

You busy yourself by attempting to stash away the wipes to throw out later, closing the pack of wipes and shoving them back into your bag.

He’s watching you do all of this, his stare is burning holes into the side of your head. He’s desperate to say something, but you’re not sure if you want to hear.

“Let’s go back to my place. We’ll stick a candle into a sheet brownie and call it your birthday cake. Oh, we can pick up ice cream too!”, You say, costuming your voice to sound unaffected by his vibe.

And so you did stick a candle in the fresh batch of brownies you both made at 11PM, two hours before his actual birthday. Sitting across from each other on the counter, Mingyu has his eyes closed shut, hands clasped, wearing a ridiculously coloured ‘BIRTHDAY BOY’ headband you found somewhere deep in your drawers.

“You’re gonna get wax on the brownies and they're gonna be inedible, hurry up” You groan, after everytime it seems like he’s done, he clenches his eyes shut again as he remembers another thing he has to wish for.

You’re not actually annoyed, he looks the cutest he’s ever looked, but you would appreciate non waxed brownies.

When he’s finally done, he blows out the singular candle and you clap lightly, “yay!”

You’re pulling out the candle and grabbing forks, dumping a couple scoops of ice cream on before you two start eating straight out of the pan.

Its a collection of groans as you both collapse on your couch, regretting eating all that so soon after dinner. He changed out of his dinner outfit to a T-shirt and pajama pants, he’d started keeping a set of clothes in his car when it started to become routine for him to spend regular evenings after work at your place.

You’re in your own unicorn pajama’s, slumped over on the arm rest slightly. You feel Mingyu scooch over to put his head in your lap, claiming he was “closing his eyes for a minute”.

You knew how lightning fast he passes out, so not even 5 minutes later you start to hear his light snores. As much as you want to wake him up to move him to the bed, you know he can’t stay the night. His birthday meant he had to be with the boys, and needing to head out early tomorrow.

So you give him 10 more minutes, fingers tracing the shape of his features, in his soft hair massaging his head with your nails slightly. He had a little pout on his face as he slept. Things had been hectic for him lately, having a comeback later in the month and the plethora of music and variety shows to follow.

Mingyu had been writing lyrics on the kitchen island one day, sputtering random words as you quipped in rhymes of your own without context, stirring the pot of soup on the hob at the same time.

One particular rhyme you spew out catches him off guard and he barks out a laugh at the ridiculous combination.

“I should put you on song credits for this”

“What do you think my producer name could be?”

He thinks for a second, “Banana bread sounds stupid, um, how’s brownie?”

“Cute, and serious enough” you agree, “I’ll be expecting to see my name on that album, sir”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turn your attention back to the sleeping man curled up in your lap. You wonder if you could fall asleep on the couch too, keep him here with you for the night. Be a little selfish. It’d be nice, making waffles for breakfast when morning comes. But he needed to be at the dorm in the morning, the boys knew where he was but managers that’d come pouring in at 7 AM sharp, did not. And it was best kept that way. The last thing Mingyu wanted, you knew, was people getting the wrong idea. The thought stung a little bit, but you knew not to mix your hopes with what reality was giving you.

So you gather the courage to slowly reign him back from dreamland.

***

Your sitting with Mingyu and Seungkwan on the couches outside the dressing rooms, a little bit before they have to go to perform. You were done with your agenda and was waiting for them to start filing out before beginning to pack up.

“No, because why does he get to eat all the good stuff right out the oven and we don’t, that’s not fair” Seungkwan complained loudy to you, a mildly offended look on his face.

“Stop being such a complain bot, you’re never happy if I have nice things” Mingyu retorts, increasingly nasty looks being exchanged for an argument about freshly baked goods.

“Oh, I’m the hater?! Let me jog your memory, who was the one sulking and shoving me around when Y/n wouldn’t let you-”

Mingyu had jumped up and pulled Seungkwan into a headlock, his poor Americano half flying across the hall as he yells out in disarray.

“YAH!” cued with more noises of struggle and muffled threats.

You chose to embrace the violence by sitting in your seat and laughing as Vernon recorded their antics from the doorway inside eventually circing them for his supposed cinematic effect, catered for the inevitable weverse post that was to come.

Cut to them apologizing and cleaning up the mess of coffee and disregard.

You decide to be nice and attempt to make peace by reassuring Seungkwan, “Come over after you’re done promoting this week, I’ll make up for all the bread and cookies you missed out on”

“If you've finished with your escort duties Y/n, could you please come in and do your day job?”

The voice came from the doorway of the dressing room, your senior makeup artist standing there with her usual mildly inconvenienced expression. It took you a minute to fully understand what she meant by that sentence, your body completely still.

“Offended? What, like I’m wrong?”

You were no stranger to insulting behaviour in work places, but they’d always been revolving around your actual job description. People who didn’t like you knew they had to be smart on how they treated you regardles.

This was different. This felt like you were projected back in time to your solemn middle school days to mean girls taunting you about your spongebob socks, except multiply that by about a thousand.

You feel your stomach begin to churn as that nauseous feeling of shame began to settle itself into your veins.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there but when she slightly raises her voice; “Are you getting up or not?” your hands actively begin to tremble the slightest amount.

You’re making moves to get up by puting your coffee cup down, not knowing what to do except follow commands.

Your interrupted by a voice from behind; “She’s coming in, give us a minute”

Mingyu’s standing there, his expression stoic as Seungkwan and Vernon looked as stunned as you felt. You don’t register it in the moment, but the people in the hall, venue staff and those for other artists have also silenced, watching the scene unfold.

Her lips are in a tight line, her expression remaining irritated as she steps back inside the room.

You realise you need to do something to diffuse the escalated situation. Letting out a breathy laugh, you get up and tell them that you’ll be going inside, trying to keep your expression pleasant and unaffected, not waiting before turning around to spare them the burden of a response. People get yelled at everyday, and this is no different. You aren’t gonna be the one to make a scene out of a regular occurrence.

You know what's coming when you get inside, she’s waiting as she pulls you aside.

“Your behavior has been quite concerning recently, let me remind you of your place here and what you were hired to do. You've been dilly dallying with people who aren't even your friends, and its quite funny that you’d think they are. It's time to wake up from wasting your time making heart eyes at men who are way out of your league. I won't tolerate any more nonsense from you, and trust I won’t be this nice or forgiving the next time this happens”

You choose to nod your head.

“That’s another thing, use your own words. Don’t think other people are gonna be there all the time to speak for you” She spits out, her professional front slowly eroding the more she spoke.

“Yes, ma’am” You say, hoarse voice.

“Louder, next time”, she stalks out as majority of the people in the room also begin to leave for the filming downstairs.

You’re left standing awkwardly in front of the racks of clothes, trying to digest what just happened to you. Looking around the room, you try to figure out what your supposed to do.

Clothes on the couches, eyeshadow brushes on the floor. There’s a torn sponge resting underneath one of the chairs, a couple styrofoam boxes left on the tables from lunch.

There’s so much for you to do, you arent sure how you thought you had time to sit down and chat. But you’re not sure where to begin either. The room is a mess of smells and colours even without the buzzing noise of people getting ready. Tears begin to form as you try to navigate what you’re supposed to do, realising you can’t possibly find a starting point for any of this mess. Before you have time to think of anything else, a hand is holding onto your wrist, small and soft.

It’s Yoona, another one of the makeup artists.

“Y/n, I think it’s best if you go home, it’s been tiring.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her. Just trust me. Go home you’ll feel alot better”

She notices you hesitate for a second, and goes in to give you a hug.

It felt nice, to be hugged by a friend. For some reason, it didn’t feel like she was pitying you, her expression and aura reassuring you that you didn’t have to stand here alone.

“Whatever happened today shouldn't have happened, but you don’t need to think about that right now. Go home and do nice things for yourself, we’ll figure it out later. You have my number, give me a text once you get home. We can go out later if you want, when I get off work, to get your mind off things”

You’re not sure how you’re holding back the waterpark that has become of your tearducts as you hear those words from an unsuspecting friend, you nod with a smile. You feel a little more calm.

You can’t tell if you care enough to consider the consequences of your senior finding out how you’re doubling or nothing on your already posed humiliation. But the only thing you can think of right now is your bed and the ceiling you’d stare burn holes into.

So you, for the first time in a while, chose to choose yourself by picking up your satchel and leaving the chaos behind you as you walk to your car.

***

Just because you were brave where it mattered most doesn’t mean you weren’t allowed to cry.

You had come home, shot Yoona a brief text, and promptly began to sob the absolute Nile into your sheets.

You had never cried like this before, loud wracked sobs coming from a place in your chest you had locked away during a time you couldn’t even remember. You’re breathing after every choked cry is a sputtered intake of life, only to spit it back out as you let out another sob of what sounds like agony. There’s nothing in your head, nothing but the words that were spoken to you as echoes of your own mind. Hypocritical of you to hate them when the same words circled in your head like a mantra every cursed, unfortunate day. She had done you a favour, by spitting out the truth you’d stewed, chewed and kept in your mouth ever since you got here. This was a you problem, to believe that you were capable of things beyond your bracket. You were told by the universe, screamed at by the world, that this was never meant for you, and you chose to ignore it. You chose to be stubborn. You brought this misery upon yourself.

Once you’ve disposed your body weight of tears and snot and burden, you’re left to stare at your innocent sheets now stained with mascara and your sorrows. You crawl into your covers and rest your muscles for a few seconds, head empty. You aren’t sure when you drift off, but you're glad that you do.

You don’t dream for once.

***

You wake up feeling like you drank a gallon of water and went to sleep. Your eyes, nose and throat feel like they’ve been over watered yet dry at the same time. You don’t realise what’s really arising pangs of irritancy in your brain once you figure out the consistent sound is a door bell. You’re doorbell, of the house that you live in.

You’re slow to push yourself up, realising your slept in your day clothes. It’s dark out but you're not sure what time it is, and quite frankly, you can’t say you care enough to check. You need to silence your doorbell first, which can only be done by silencing whatever hell sent individual was playing drums on the button outside.

It’s a record screech in your brain as you peer through your peephole and realise who the aforementioned hell sent individual was.

Mingyu was outside your door.

You don’t realise you look like you crawled out of a sewer till it’s too late and you’ve already opened the door through muscle memory. Mingyu was always welcome in your space.

He was in casual clothes, his hair pushed back from the guessed hands that ran through it, but he was still in stage his stage makeup.

“Oh, were you sleeping?” He asks, eyes a little wide, expression cautious.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go then, you weren’t answering your phone for anyone and you told Yoona you were home but you weren’t opening the door, i was worried. Sorry I ringed it so much I probably should’ve assumed-”

He stops to look at you, and it’s like realizes something before he finally says; “Just wanted to make sure you were okay, I’ll see you around. I’ll leave you alone”

“Wait,” you croak out, licking your lips, conscious of your morning voice, “Can you stay? Please? If you can.”

He stops to look at you, expression changing from sheepish to defensive.

“No! I mean, yes. Yes. I’ll stay. I’ll stay for as long as you want”

You let him in as he slips off his shoes and you lead him to the living room. His presence in the familiar place seems like it last happened eras ago, when he was only here maybe a week prior.

“You know where everything is, I’ll be back gimme like 5 minutes”

You’re scared to look at yourself in your bathroom mirror, so you don’t, and choose to scrub your face looking down at your sink. You change into a sweatshirt and trouser loungewear set, deciding to save your dignity a little bit further as you brush your hair and clip it back with a claw clip.

You take a breath before entering the living room again.

He’s sitting on the floor in your usual place, two steaming mugs on the coffee table, the tabs hanging out of the cup. He made you tea.

You sit down next to him, not really prepared for what you should be saying.

“How long has she been speaking to you like that?” He asks you quietly.

“She was always kinda itchy and uptight and stuff but, it was never like this” You say.

“Regardless, whatever that was, it was, wrong, uncalled for, all of those things” He says, sputtering a little bit.

He stops and sighs. It’s silect for a minute before he turns in his seat to face you, grabbing your folded legs and pulling you to face him too.

“Yoona heard everything she said to you after you went in, she heard it all. And she knows about some other stuff too. If you think, even for a second, that I’m not your friend, I might actually think there’s something wrong with you.

“If everything we’ve been through this past, almost a year, doesn’t amount to us at least being friends then I don’t know what it means to have one at all. You’re the first person in a while I’ve been able to be this open with. You know me better than most people, you’ve seen me at my worst and at my best. I’ve let you read me all you want, because I know I can be an open book if it’s you. I trust you more than I can trust myself sometimes, and I really wish you would trust me too.”

You’re watching him as he says all of this, you look up to make eye contact a couple times, and he’s looking at you everytime you lift your head.

“I do trust you. Probably more than anyone else. It’s myself I don’t trust. It’s hard for me to open up, I’m scared I’m gonna say something that’ll scare you away. And, I just thought maybe she was right today, that I need to realise that it can’t be that way between us, I have a job to do”

“What can’t be between us?”

“I like you, Mingyu. Like, I’m basically in love with you and have been since I fucking met you. I couldn’t believe that you could possibly be friends with someone like me, a confused, all over the place airhead who can’t tell right from left sometimes, forget you ever liking me. All that happened is that we became friends and I thought that this was as far as fate was gonna push us. All today told me was that … that was an overextension too. It was a wake up call that I can’t have everything in life. Things were going too well for us and I was letting myself think it could stay that way forever. I’m sorry for being this way, I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable and out of place. This is the last thing you’d want to hear from a friend and I’m sorry I’m putting you in this situation right now and that you had to go through that today-”

You don’t finish what your saying because you're interrupted. Interrupted by arms pulling you forward and into Mingyu in front of you.

Your both sitting in your living room at 3 AM, on the floor in front of your sofa like you both have so many times. Except now, Mingyu is holding you in his arms, and kissing you so delicately it hurts.

It’s warm, like getting into bed after a long day, the scent of home and security engulfing you as you begin to forget about the qualms of life.

He’s moving his lips slowly, with care and a feeling so overflowing you can’t describe.

He lets go slowly and rests his forehead against yours, his arms are around you tight, legs wrapped around your entire body so you can't escape - physically or mentally.

“You dumbass” You hear him say.

“I love you,Y/n. More than anything. And I need you to know that you don’t have to hide. If you think your thoughts are a burden then I want to carry it for you. I want you to realise you’re not alone. I want you to stop pushing me away. Everytime I want to do something nice for you, you try to push the effort to something else, everytime I try to take care of you, you have this look that makes me think you feel guilty for taking up my time or something. Everytime I think you’re about to ask me to stay the night, you remind me I have priorities and I should go, even though I know you want me to stay with you. I want you to stop caring so much for how other people feel and realise you can demand the same from the universe too. You deserve love and to be treated with care. You need to let people do that for you, love.”

Your looking at him now, your turn to have stars in your eyes.

He loves you.

And you feel it. You feel it in his words, in his eyes, in the kisses he’s leaving on your face, in his arms that are wrapped around you, ready to shield you from the world.

You don’t say anything as you fall into his chest, head on shoulder, relaxed body in the cage he’s made for you. You close your eyes as the tears are burning down your face. Except, this time they’re because your relieved.

You both got up from the uncomfortable floor and moved to your bed, still tangled within each other as you clarified everything else.

You found out that majority of the people who heard it were very upset at the situation, but didn’t know how to approach or confront her.

Seungkwan almost bust a blood vessel after he had digested what had happened, disbelief and threats on his tongue as he refused to get touched up by her during filming, apparently making a point to walk to somebody else. Seungcheol was thinking of trying to bring up the problem to management, considering how Mingyu too was distracted all the way home.

“The rest of them have gotten quite protective of you too, I think. It’s not like I shut up about you”

Apparently the only reason you were asked to start taking charge on makeup was because some of the other senior artists pressured your mentor to stop restricting you. It made you feel a little more secure that it wasn’t just you that felt pushed down.

She didn’t like that you were doing so well, considering it meant she was wrong about you and your abilities. It hurt her ego a little bit that people stopped preferring her to do their makeup or their touchups, how they wouldn’t interact with her the same way.

“Alot coming from a middle aged, married woman, attention seeking like a child” Mingyu added, scoffing with a sour face as he nuzzled into the crown of your head.

“The boys really like you by the way, they’ve been rooting for us since forever” He says, and your heart swells unimaginably so; you felt loved, so so loved.

You scooch up to plant a kiss on the underside of his chin and then one on his lips.

“That makes me happy”

“I’m happy that you’re happy. You deserve to be happy, everyday” He smooches you on the face again. “Oh, and don’t worry about that stinky face I’ll take care of her”

You laugh at the determination in his voice, but you wanted to clarify something.

“Please, let me handle her myself. I’ll ask for help if she’s stubborn but I wanna try by myself first”

“That was hot”

You push his chest away as you bark out a laugh at the random comment, hiding you face, by turning the other way.

He battles that by pull you back into his chest and continuing his atics

“What I can’t call my girlfriend hot. You’re hot. Your the sexiest motherfucker I’ve ever seen” smooch “You’re beautiful” and again “amazing” and again “gorgeous spectacular-”

You don’t fall asleep until the sun has well made its way up the sky, taking the executive decision to sleep in till way past lunch and maybe even take a nap afterwards.

You don’t care how it goes, because your happy just being with him.

***

You met with Yoona a couple days later at a cafe.

“Seungcheol asked us if we were facing the same kind of behaviour from her too. And everyone told him she was stuck up and rude and stuff. He said he wanted to bring it up to management but it didn’t really concern him directly so they wouldn’t listen. He told us to do so ourselves and we thought about it, but we’re gonna need to tell them about that too”

You nod your head as you listen to her speak, it was making sense.

“I dont mind going up to management at all and talking about it. I get that the rest of the stuff is a little too tame to be considered, which sucks because she shouldn’t be talking to us like that at all”

“Mhm, and I was thinking we could vouch for you on how she was restraining you for almost a year. Basically not letting you do your job. That’d be a another thing for them to think about”

“Yeah. Let’s do it asap, how’s this Monday?”

“Perfect, I’ll add everyone to a group chat and let them know”

And go up to management you did, who were surprisingly understanding. Apparently having received multiple reports and even videos of the most recent incident to act as proof. It was working out for all of you, and it proved to stay that way as they responded with a promise to shift her to a different department.

You had gone home that day feeling fulfilled and relieved. Mingyu, a man with spectacular timing had also proceeded to send you a text as a distraction,

[Mingyu]: Kwan wants to come over

[Mingyu]: something about croissants

[Mingyu]: Should he text you ab it?

[You]: yeah ofc

[You]: I’ll order the butter

[You]: you tell him to text me lol

Two nights ago felt like it happened last year with all the unimaginable advances deciding to happen within the past 48 hours. Right now you were more excited for the company you were about to recieve, more concerned with making sure you made the best batch of croissants Seungkwan ever did see.

***

You were in the car with Mingyu outside the company building, waiting until the clock struck 9 to go inside.

Today was the last day you’d think about this, being called up for a face to face meeting with the staff member, so she could formally apologise. The team had planned a dinner tonight, to celebrate the end of her ‘wicked reign’ as Yoona described it.

You were finding friends everywhere, ones that were always there, pulling through for each other as you yourself navigated a new direction of thinking for yourself. You were learning to walk past your anxiety ridden desire to draw lines with everyone, as you took the first step with the dinner tonight. It would be fun for you, and a bond you’d begin to build.

You learned that you weren’t delusional anymore, and that Mingyu did love you the same. It had only been a week or so, but one of the happiest weeks of your life, despite everything. He was teaching you more lessons than he thought he was.

Mingyu squeezes your hand from the driver’s side as it was past 9, “Let’s go?”

“Lets go”

***

Mingyu’s way too enthusiastic as soon as he wakes up, indulging you in a morning (afternoon) makeout session, claiming he doesn’t care for you morning breath.

“Well I do!” you exclaim, pushing him off with a giggle “About your morning breath, stinky”

He clutches his chest in dramatic offense, “How could you? I thought you loved me”

You respond my projecting a cushion to his face.

“Do you want pancakes or eggs for breakfast?” You ask, legs hanging over the bed.

Mingyu looks up, a wicked glint in his eye, and you immediately know he’s going to say something of no help.

“I want you for breakfast” He says, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back in bed.

“MINGYU!”

Needless to say, all was well.

#seventeen #carat #svt #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen fluff #mingyu #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu fic #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu #svt x reader #em.writes

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minkkumaz · 1 year

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FISH OUT OF WATER

your gentle boyfriend left you to care for his most beloved fish, along with the tank he's worked on for awhile. but when you tip over the tank, completely shattering all of his work, he snaps.

PAIRING kim leehan x fem!reader WC 1.6k TAGS angst. fighting. blood mention. cutting yourself on glass by accident. jaehyun showing his leader qualities LMAO. OMI NOTE this setup is so cute considering the heart wrenching angst you are all about to read wink wink.

leehan had always been an extraordinary boyfriend to you. he was often calm and gentle, while still loving you to his hearts extent. when saying he would walk across the world for you, you know he would without any hesitation.

but another thing about him was that he was quite practical. dwelling on things wasn’t his forte, and he often wanted to come up with solutions as soon as possible. many people relied on him, so he had to be able to deliver an answer immediately.

whenever you did something wrong, or there was a miscommunication, he’d try to reach out and fix it immediately. this is what kept things between the two of you whole. leehan was truly your missing piece. you’ve never caught him in a bad moment.

one of leehan’s many interests was fish. in particular, decorating tanks and caring for the cute aquatic creatures. you thought it was adorable, and have always encouraged it. so while he was away for the weekend to shoot for his groups jacket shoot, he trusted you to care for his corydora.

the instructions he gave you were very detailed, but just came down to simply feeding them everyday. you knew how important it was that his fish was taken care of properly, so you followed to the best of your ability.

everything was smooth sailing for the weekend. a happy and healthy little corydora swam around freely in it’s habitat. you truly admired how beautiful leehan made the fish tank look. he had worked on this one in specific for a long time, gathering all the right materials from good sources to ultimately pull together something beautiful.

when the night that he would be coming home rolled around, you were in a rush home from your classes. feeding the fish completely slipped your mind, so now you were racing to get home before leehan. there was a chance that it still had leftover food hiding in the sand, but you couldn’t be too sure.

as soon as you jammed your key into the door, opening up to an empty apartment, you sighed with relief. sliding off your shoes and placing your bag by the door, you approached the tank with heavy breaths.

you had left the container of food on the lid of the tank, so you quickly grabbed a little stepstool in order to reach it. lee was giant, so it was normal that you needed a little bit of assistance when doing tasks he’d normally do.

but with your recklessness, the stool folded back underneath you, making you stumble forward. in a failed attempt to save yourself, the entire tank shattered from impact

you fell, barely avoiding the broken glass that slid across the floor from the heavy flow of water everywhere. all of the greenery and sand within the tank scattered everywhere. and to your dismay, the poor fish flopped around helplessly in the middle of it all.

panic washed over you as you scrambled to get the fish back into water. your side hurt like hell and there was probably a little bit of glass stuck to your sweater, but that was the least of your worries. all of leehan’s hard work entrusted to you, and for what?

when you heard footsteps towards the door you almost wanted to start crying. you picked around the floor, pushing the glass away from the corydora to pick it up safely. safely in the palm of your hand, you sprinted to the kitchen to get it in a cup of water.

the doorknob twisted loudly, the glass you held shakily in your hand was halfway full. after hearing a suitcase roll in and a call for your name, you plopped the fish inside the cup and came out to greet leehan with dread.

“leehan i’m so sorry i can explain!” you heaved, placing the fish down in a table.

“oh my gosh y/n, what the hell happened?” he had a shocked expression on his face, hand slightly covering his gaping mouth.

“i– i forgot to feed the fish so i ran home and–”

“you forgot to feed my fish? are you serious? i barely left you for a couple days y/n!” he didn’t normally yell, but thats the only thing he could express right now.

“i know! trust me i’ve been doing it lee but it was just this one time and when i went to grab the stepstool i fell and the whole tank toppled over!” you cried out trying to explain.

“i worked so hard on that tank for months, how could you be so careless?” his words stung your heart, you finally let the tears flow.

“leehan i said i was sorry…” you choke, wiping your face with the hand that wasn’t slightly blood stained.

“fuck, did you even care? was it on purpose?” he groaned, tearing up a little also.

“of course i didn’t do it on purpose i swear it was an accident.”

“give me the fish, i have a spare tank at the dorms. i can’t stay here with you tonight.” he mumbled, grabbing the cup and leaving before you could say anything more.

the silence in your shared apartment was now more deafening than ever. all you could do was cry. this was all your fault, if you hadn’t stupidly forgot to feed his fish and rush home. you soon realized there was a much bigger mess that you needed to clean, so you got to work to distract yourself.

your tears mixed with the tank water as you kneeled to pick up all of the glass, too numb to pay any attention to the small cuts it was leaving. except as a much larger piece gashed through your skin you finally got worried.

“fuck fuck– fuck!” you whimpered, running to the bathroom to run your hand under the sink. it made you much more aware of how hurt your hands got in the whole process of cleaning. what made it worse is that you had no bandages, and you obviously couldn’t contact leehan right now.

the scene from before replayed in your head at the thought of him, making your heart ache. you were sure he didn’t mean it, but there was another part of you that believed he did.

with that, you called jaehyun to tell him everything, still sobbing on the other side. he came to you as fast as he could with bandages. you made him promise not to tell leehan anything, though he really wanted to.

“jeez y/n, i’ve never heard leehan do anything like that.” he sat next to you on the floor of your bathroom, wrapping up your hands lightly.

“did you see him at the dorms?” you mutter.

“not really, i left before he came in.”

“okay.. thank you jaehyun.” you pull away, examining the bandages on your hand.”

“anytime y/n. but i really think you should let me tell him if you aren’t going to yourself.” he sighed.

“i’m just a little scared i don’t know.. it was my fault the tank shattered.”

“but you didn’t mean to! i’m sure he’s just frustrated right now i mean– he cares more about those fish than himself.” jaehyun noted making you laugh.

“i guess you’re right. you can text him. i’ll try to mentally prepare myself.”

“great. i’ll go clean up the fish tank for you real quick and by the time i’m done he’ll probably be on his way.” he smiled at you, making his way out and down the hall. the sound of glass hitting a dust - pan filled your ears.

you went to your room and sat still for awhile, unable to comprehend what happened in the past hour and a half. you missed leehan so much. the spot in bed that was usually filled by a warm body was cold. he didn’t come home as quick as jaehyun said he was, so you let yourself fall asleep with tear stained pillows.

it was late when the door opened and leehan came rushing to the bedroom. you were sound asleep, cuddled into a bundle of pillows. he found you cute like this, but it was different when his last interaction with you was a bad one.

“y/n, my love.” he whispered, shaking your side.

“lee?” you stirred awake, blinking away sleep to look at him.

“love i am so so sorry, i really am.” he stroked the side of your face as you leaned yourself up on your elbow.

“i’m so sorry about your fish tank, it really was an accident.” you weep, clutching onto the sleeve of his sweater, before catching your mistake and wincing.

“baby… your hands. i shouldn’t of left you like that to clean it all up i am so sorry. i take full accountability for leaving you in such distress.”

“it’s okay, i was just so worried you’d leave. we always talk things out when things go bad…” he wipes the tears falling from your face.

“i have no idea what came over me, but that’s not an excuse. i was rude and immature. i could’ve been way more understanding about things.” he exhaled, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders, “of course i was angry, but that didn’t excuse any of the things i said about you. i don’t want to lose such a precious girl.”

“thank you…”

leehan takes your hands, placing soft kisses over the bandages, before letting his lips attach yours. it was gentle, something you were much more used to.

“my little corydora is okay, so don’t even worry. at least i’ll have another tank to busy myself with.” he said, going over to crawl towards his side of the bed and give you a much deserved cuddle.

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vhstown · 1 year

Text

time out (part 2)

[boxer au] — 42!miles g morales x gn!reader

summary: Miles Morales makes boxing history. Your boyfriend isn't there to celebrate.

warnings: angst-ish, hurt/comfort, fluff, description of (boxing) injuries, briefly implied death, gtranslate spanish

word count: 5.3k

a/n: editing this was actual torture. kind of becomes a song fic? song is dreamer by bobby bland if you wanna listen before u read lmao entirely not necessary tho. part 2 of 2 but i might write this au again in the future !

← PART 1 / THE AU

Boxing — you tried to be as well versed in it as possible, learning as many terms and moves and whatever else you could pick up from Aaron when he was helping Miles train for all those weeks. What you weren’t sure of, though, was if a “time out”, or a break, had to be this awkward. What you also weren’t sure of was what on Earth your boyfriend was thinking doing here at midnight training (or splitting his knuckles open, though you didn’t quite know the difference anymore,) right after his tournament had finished.

Regardless, there was nothing you could do about it. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t just leave and “give him space” as you might’ve done before. The weather didn’t look like it was going to clear up anytime soon, and you had no signal or money; it wasn't like Miles would call a car for himself anyway — stubborn.

Miles was sat on the floor against a set of shelves with various things that belonged to Aaron, and you were on an unbearably stiff bench press seat, legs close together so you wouldn’t fall off and your jacket hung around the weight. Cold, uncomfortable, dead silent — the perfect atmosphere for a productive conversation, of course.

Truthfully, you had no idea what to say. Yeah, you’d just talked big game to your boyfriend and scolded him like his mother probably would’ve if she knew what the hell he was up to, but you hadn’t planned anything after that. Miles wasn’t a talker — not by any means. Right now, he was sat on the floor with his legs crossed, stretching uncomfortably on his elbows with his hands in awkward positions to try and not strain them too much. He hadn’t said anything, so you hadn’t said anything either, and now you were stuck without any words and too many thoughts.

It was a lot of unmet glances and quiet shivers, and you tried your best to kill the urge to just... lean over and hug him. As much as you missed him and wanted to let out everything you’d been feeling for the past couple of weeks, now wasn’t the best time — Miles probably couldn’t even hug you with those gnarly injuries anyway.

Miles’ eyes were dull and tired, fixed on the ground or maybe somewhere you couldn’t see. As usual, you couldn’t gauge anything from his expression besides mild annoyance. It was like a constant guessing game. First, why your texts weren’t going through, secondly, where the hell he was, and now you had to figure out why on Earth he was so frustrated. Your luck had ran out with those first two guesses, and his silence certainly didn’t help — again, not a talker. Not even a looker; he wasn’t stealing glances of you anymore, like he was thinking about something. If only you knew what.

The most you could guess was that this was about not winning — but it couldn’t just be that simple. Miles was stupid sometimes, but he wasn’t delusional — he knew that he probably couldn’t beat every single person in that championship when he was just starting to go professional. This wasn’t some kiddish, lofty dream Miles had either — he was serious from the day Aaron got him those gloves, which were now crumpled up in the corner next to you. He wouldn’t throw a fit over nothing.

It wasn’t right to force it out of him though, and you could still sense the stubbornness lingering in the crease between his brows. You resisted the urge to smooth it out with your thumb, instead just killing it with every other thought you deemed “selfish”. Apparently, waiting was just as much of a competitive sport at boxing.

The door rattled as icy drafts bit at your ankles and fingertips. It sounded like the sky was going to collapse from how intense the storm was growing. Miles was just in a tank top, his hoodie abandoned on the bar behind you. You figured he could get it himself; any sort of help always seemed pitying to him anyway.

“I’m training with uncle Aaron tonight — stay home.”

“I can handle myself. How else you think I got this far?”

“You ain’t comin’ to Vegas with me.”

You found yourself reaching for the hoodie anyway. Miles didn’t notice, of course, but you could see the goose bumps on skin even from this far away.

“Hey,” you muttered, making him look up. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up, or sulk some more?”

His mouth opened, but only to let out a breath, before silence fell between you again.

“Fine, I don’t… get it, or whatever.” You continued, fingers trailing into the sleeves of the hoodie. “But I don’t get how I’m supposed to when you’re not talking to me.”

“There’s nothing to get.” It was like you had Vegas between you two again — like he wasn’t even here.

The fabric of the hoodie was warm, and a part of you didn’t feel like letting go of it — if only your boyfriend was in the hoodie too.

“I don’t get why you’d box without wraps, for one.”

“I’m just… frustrated,” he yielded, albeit unhelpfully. “‘S nothing serious, promise.”

Serious enough to have your fingers hanging on by a thread. You noticed his thumb nursing the blackened skin around his knuckles, and his expression seemed even more distant than it was before. It was always some impossible game, and you hadn’t lost, but were drained and out of words for now.

Maybe he’d figure it out for himself; you weren’t too convinced of that. Despite that, it was getting annoying to hear the constant howling of wind and rain outside. Walking over to the shelf, you dropped the hoodie in Miles’ lap. You doubted he had even looked at you, but you didn’t need him to. Right now, you needed something to fill this boring, cold and wordless room.

Looking through the shelves behind Miles, you noticed a picture: a much younger Aaron wearing boxing gloves, a medal around his neck and standing next to someone you assumed to be Miles' dad. You'd never looked at any of the pictures close up, but you noticed there were a lot of old pictures like that, before finding Aaron's collection of records.

Taking the first one out, you put it into the player and carefully set the needle, glancing at the name of the song. His taste in music wasn’t exactly popular, but you’d rather listen to “DREAMER” than “inconveniently timed Brooklyn storm” right now.

Letting out a sigh of your own, you slumped down next to him as he pulled the hoodie over his head, arms going back to being crossed.

"~Dreamer... dreamer... Like a fool, I thought that it could be..." Of course it was a sad song. Blues? The haunting melody made you feel blue. It made the cold feel more numbing than biting on your skin. It made you feel, in general — what, you couldn’t really place.

“…Are we okay?” you muttered without much thought. The urge to talk had come back, and you hadn’t decided if you regretted speaking yet.

"~Dream on... dream on... surely someone, will understand me..."

Miles let out a breath, and it felt like you were exchanging more sighs than words. “Yeah. I just… ‘S not you.”

No “promise”, though. Did that make it more or less honest?

"~What do I say, when I've, oh, said too much? I think by now, I'm wastin' time..."

“...I love you, y’know?” you continued, hating how out of place it sounded. It was as useless as that text you tried to send, but you were tired, and missed your boyfriend, and wished he would give you even a glance.

“~I'm going… oh Lord I'm gone…”

“Love you too,” he mumbled in reply. It wasn’t very reassuring, and it didn’t seem like it to him either, because he reached out to brush your hand against his. You took his hand first — gently, and his thumb pressed into your palm in a sort of silent apology.

You hated how futile it was, and how much you craved it again. You hated you couldn’t be even a little mad at him, and how you were defending him to yourself. Maybe you were both in the wrong. No — you weren’t wrong, you were trying to be understanding.

You weren’t wrong for feeling this way, were you?

“~You are the absence, of my mind…”

You hated how much you missed that boy from all those months ago — even though he was right in front of you. It didn’t feel like Miles Morales was yours anymore, he was theirs — whoever “they” were. His competitors, his managers, the media… It was like there was no trace of the Miles you knew before. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t deny it anymore: that Miles had a dream, and you probably weren’t in it. You hated how you took it so personally.

And you hated how you reached out to hug him, despite all of that.

It was just you for a moment, and you were about to pull away before his arms wrapped loosely around the small of your back.

You hated how you hid your face over his shoulder, and how nice it felt. You hated how warm he was, and how the room was freezing.

You hated how familiar this was.

“~Lord, dreamer… dreamer…”

“Sorry, cariño. Didn’t mean to be an asshole.” Miles’ fingertips dragged uselessly over your back, and you shamelessly tightened your arms around him as he pressed his cheek into yours. You might’ve shed a tear, if it weren't for how heavy your eyes were already with the late hour. Neither of you could go home yet, though you weren’t sure if you wanted to right now.

“~Like a fool… I thought, well, that it could be…”

The long sigh you let out was followed by Miles’ own quiet one before he kissed you on the cheek. His breath warmed your frigid face and brushed at your heart, as he always did. You wished you could be upset, overreact, scream at his face, tell him how you felt all this time. It just always had to end with forgiveness, because now, you couldn’t even remember what you had felt.

And you hated it — not as much as you’d like.

Closing your eyes, you buried your head into his hoodie while the music, the storm and the sound of your own breathing blurred together in your mind. All you were left with were your own thoughts.

This boxing thing didn’t involve you — it never did. He didn’t want you there to see him, or even tell you he was home from Vegas, and now it felt like he was just putting up with you here. It felt like you and him were on opposite sides of the pavement, only walking together to share the same umbrella. He just didn’t want you to get soaked — or hurt.

“I told you not to come today… I’m walkin’ you home.”

He didn’t want you to expect too much.

“Nah, you don’t need to see me train. It’s borin’ as hell.”

He didn’t want you to give up on him.

“I’ll make it big — promise.”

He wanted his dream — did he still want you?

“Just be patient with me, cielo.”

Patient, huh? If only you could be like Rio. It felt like you were just as bad as Miles. Maybe you were — both just as bad as each other.

“Why didn’t you text me? …At all?” Muffled against his hoodie, you hoped your voice didn’t waver. It felt a little manipulative, even if it wasn’t in the slightest, but you couldn’t keep telling yourself things were all good. Miles had been avoiding you, whether that was intentional or not. You were just being open — trying to be open. You hope he’d try too.

The boy in question was silent, before he pulled away, hands lingering at your sides.

“I was…” Miles took in a breath, voice dying out for a moment. “Look, I…”

“~Down the wrong way, on a one way street…”

“I can’t be a boxer anymore.”

It felt like the rain had gone quiet. There was no need for an umbrella between you two anymore. It felt like you’d closed it yourself, walking to the opposite side of the pavement again, watching him and the dull, empty sky from afar.

You were the one that asked him — you wanted him to speak to you, and now you weren’t even sure what to say.

“~You'd think by now, I would have learned…”

“What do you mean…?”

“My contract got terminated.” His voice sounded forced, strangely robotic. Was that what you so wanted to get from him?

“Can’t you just… get signed by somebody else?”

“There is nobody else. I had a contract with Norman Osborn — he basically owns boxing.”

“~I saw a little, but I learned even less…”

Your heart dropped a little — you wouldn’t let it drop any more than that. It made sense why Miles was so excited back then if he got signed by someone like that. Now, that excitement meant nothing. All you could think of was that video, that interview…

“I jus’ hope you watchin’, cause I’m here. Miles Morales made it!”

So he’d just… given up? Miles had given up? Was that it? The end of it?

Boxer or not, you suddenly had the urge to punch him — maybe even punch yourself. It didn’t even matter who was right and who was wrong anymore, because you didn’t even know who was in front of you. It was almost uncanny to see Miles like this, so dejected; that’s what he’d been feeling all this time. As much as it seemed like he was mad at you, or was avoiding you, or lying to you, it was never really about you.

Miles was refusing to let go of his dream — of himself — until right now.

And you didn’t know what overcame you at that moment. Maybe it was Rio’s words, or the fact that Aaron wasn’t here, or the fact that you felt like you’d lost your boyfriend — if he wasn’t going to be stubborn about it anymore, you sure as hell were.

“So you’re telling me nobody else is gonna sign you? At all? You haven’t even looked?”

“You don’t get it, ‘s more complicated than—”

“Baby, look at me for a sec.” Your hand was on his shoulder with more confidence than common sense, eyes were square with his avoidant, dull, hopeless gaze. You haven’t ever seen Miles hopeless before. You couldn’t let him be if it was the last thing you did. “You, Miles Gonzalo Morales—”

“Aight, you don’t need the full name.”

“I do need it, because my whole ass boyfriend changed boxing history.” Frankly, you had no idea what you were saying; it felt like you were shooting in the dark, but you didn’t care if you sounded a little stupid, or over-the-top, because if that’s what it took to get your boyfriend to crack even a little… “His 'legendary left jab'—”

“Babe, where the hell did you get that from?” The look he was giving you was probably more of a “jab” than anything.

“…The news.” The corner of your mouth quirked up despite your best efforts, face pricking with heat as you remembered reading through that Bugle article like it was divine revelation. A little stupid, a little over-the-top, sure, but it was true.

Miles’ lips pressed together, and your face heated more trying to decipher his expression. You didn’t have to, because the snicker that escaped his throat was enough make all the rain and thunder and lighting, and even the song insignificant.

“~I only learn to regret…”

“Miles, I’m serious,” you muttered, rather unseriously, brows furrowing as you tried to smooth out the meekness on your face.

“Legendary?” There was a hint of his usual mirth in his tone, and you tried not to be bothered by it. Anything was better than seeing Miles like that: ridiculous, over-the-top, unserious, but not hopeless.

“Look, it was the Bugle, okay? Some millennial wrote that — like, some lady called Mary.”

“Why do you even remember that?” Anything that could come to mind, you’d tell him. No more silence. Just be yourself. Keep talking.

“I read it, like, a lot, okay? I was really proud of you and I just…”

The smirk fell fast from Miles’ face, and you held back any words you might’ve had. The rain eased back in as a constant patter against the windows — the silence had come back despite your efforts. Your heart started to sink a little again, but all you could offer was an awkward smile.

“You’re proud?” he asked, like you’d just lied to his face.

“Yeah…? I always am, but seeing you make it so far…” It was something you didn’t say enough, you realised. The words echoed in your mind as you found the confidence to look at him.

“…Miles Morales made it, right?”

Another tiny breath left Miles, his eyes closing for a moment as you waited for him to speak. You wanted to backtrack, maybe hope the rain would die down soon so you two could leave — you had sort of snuck out… That wasn’t the point, though. You weren’t sure what the point was right now, and you weren’t sure what he was thinking, as always — again.

His lips pressed to your forehead, and then your forehead was against his chest — somehow.

You still had no idea what he was thinking. Now you had no idea what he was feeling — or what you were feeling.

The room was freezing, but you were sure you were slowly setting on fire. Traces of the awkward smile you had were stuck on your face as your cheek pressed into the fabric of his hoodie, and suddenly every little thing you’d thought about saying to him had disappeared in its entirety.

“Dios (God), am I a dumbass…” he murmured to himself. With no clue what to do, you could only focus on the hesitance in the way he held you close, because of his injuries, you weren’t sure. His fingers were cold, like the air was. You didn’t hate the warmth this time.

The silence returned again, and instead of your heart sinking, it was fluttering wildly. You so wanted to take it in your hands and hold it still, but you couldn’t even hold Miles back.

He did this sort of thing often — used to do this often, when he was stressed for whatever reason. He wouldn’t say if he was, but you could always tell. Sometimes he’d ask, and right now, he didn’t, but it wasn’t like you ever refused; it was nice, safe, and away from the storm — close.

"~Surely someone, will understand me..."

He kissed the top of your head, like he was hoping you’d understand.

If only you could. If only you could understand why your boyfriend couldn’t see it — see how far he’d come, how much he’d achieved, how proud he should be of himself, how neither of you should be here right now.

If only Rio was here to tell him how proud she was. Or Aaron. Or his dad.

You never really knew his dad. You knew he’d be proud, at least. He'd probably be beaming seeing how far his son Miles had come, like he did in those pictures with Aaron.

You were proud too. Did that count for anything? Would that change anything? It wouldn’t get him another contract.

You wanted to squeeze his hand, but that was a stupid idea considering the state of it. A lot of your ideas felt stupid as of late. None of them would get him another contract.

It felt like a lot more than just the contract, though; maybe that's why it was so hard. If only he’d tell you.

But waiting wasn’t a game, or a competitive sport. It was nothing like boxing; there was no winner. Waiting was a choice — a promise, that you’d be there when he was ready.

“Just be patient with me, cielo.”

You wondered if he’d ever be ready.

"~Dream on, baby."

You wrapped your arms around him, finally. At the very least, you promised to hold him, if not before, then now. He tightened his grip too, just mariginally.

“I’m sorry, mi cielo.” he started, voice barely audible. “I swear, I didn’t know you actually…” Miles trailed off, resting his chin on the top of your head instead.

“Cared?” you suggested, wondering if he could hear you. “It’s a lot more than that.”

You felt his chest fall as he let out a sigh. “I know.”

“I want you to know.”

“I do, I just… I’m being real dumb and—” You squeezed your arms around him before he could finish his sentence; no more avoidance. What you were going to say after, you didn’t know.

“…What?” His voice was suddenly soft, controlled. It was like he could hear what was going on in your head.

“You ever…" You moved your head away from his chest slightly, so he could hear better. "You ever had a stage name in mind?”

It was the only thing you could think to ask, though you didn’t ask it with much thought at all. Still, things weren't going to go anywhere if you kept dodging the subject.

Miles was silent for more than just a moment — it was enough to guess he did have one. “...Why?”

“Cause… when you get back in the ring, people gotta know you right?” It wasn’t just blind optimism — you decided that you did really believe in him. They weren’t going to see the end of someone like him, not by a long shot — or a legendary left jab. Your boyfriend was one hell of a boxer; it wouldn't just stop here — no way.

“I mean, '17-year-old from NYC' isn’t exactly catchy,” you continued, despite his silence.

Just one loss before so many wins. At his age, a win, against a “long-time champion” no less, was worth a million times more than that Norman guy’s contract, no matter how much of a big-shot he was.

“You think I’m gettin’ signed?” They’d be stupid not to.

“I know you’re getting signed.” Rio's words came back to you, and despite your hesitance, you found yourself saying: “If not, I’ll sign you and go to Vegas myself.”

Patient — like his mom, but also with that fighting spirit. You realised you had to be on his level too — match his energy, his enthusiasm. He’d spent long enough being on his own.

“...Fine, fine,” he shrugged. The edge in his tone seemed to fade as he thought for a moment. “If you’re signin’ me, you’re signin’… The Prowler.”

Miles loved boxing? Screw it, you loved boxing too. You loved boxing more than him, in fact — because it was a part of him. And even when he didn’t love his dream so much, you’d be there to love it for him. He loved all of you, and you loved all of him. That was still true now, even if he was going through something not so lovely.

And soon, you’d have something else to love too. Something new.

“The Prowler,” you repeated, a smile of your own creeping up on your face. “…You sure?” The groan Miles let out was enough to curb your need to annoy him… with love.

“Cariño…" he mumbled. "You ask just to make fun of me?” Miles shook his head, and you just squeezed him around the waist again.

“No, no way. I wanna welcome you to the team, Prowler.” A few firm pats on his back got him to laugh again, and though it was barely, that moment felt worth all those weeks.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m a hundred percent serious. You and your 'legendary left jab' and all.”

“You…” The hint of a smile was in his voice, and his good hand came to pull you closer, pressing the two of you flush against each other.

“Me…?” Your voice was muffled as you rested against the hollow of his neck, feeling the vibrations of his voice as he spoke.

“Can’t believe you’re still here.” It sounded more like he was talking to himself, speaking under his breath. The way it came out, it seemed like something he'd wanted to say for a while.

“Why would I leave?” Why would you ever leave?

“No clue.”

His good hand found your face, and you turned your head a bit so it wouldn't be so awkward to reach it.

“Don't know why I ever thought that.”

You felt his thumb run across your cheek, before pulling away and tilting your face up to meet his eyes.

“Damn, you're beautiful,” he murmured, dipping his head down to bump your nose with his, stoic expression and all. You were just about able to keep your composure.

“You trying to make it up to me with flattery?” It wasn’t like he had much to make up for — in your eyes, at least. The tease made his eyes narrow, but the ghost of a smile was on his lips.

“I can make it up to you a hell of a lot better than that.”

“Morales,” you warned, thought it didn't come out much like a warning. Especially not with how quietly you said it, your face so close to his.

“What?” It was his turn to be annoying. “Lo imaginé…” (I thought so…) You weren't sure you minded it.

It was nice to be joking, and flirting, and close again. There was no need to protest right now — no reason to pretend to be mad. His arm shifted to search for your hand, and you unconsciously laced your fingers together as your faces drew closer. You were already squeezing his hand before—

“Aye…!” Miles hissed, slipping his hand away as you both remembered the nasty, loud bruise that was spreading across his hand. His left hand, you realised, was the one he’d injured — it wasn’t exactly legendary now.

“Sorry…” you muttered, lips pressing together tightly as you took in the sight again. “But that was your fault."

Miles frowned at you almost incredulously as he held his own hand. “Nuh-uh.”

“Time out, Morales.” You couldn’t help it. Or help the smile on your face.

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” You kissed his cheek to really rub it in. No more words from him, it looked like.

After a moment more of silence, and watching Miles nurse his own hand, you spoke up again. “…Are you gonna go back? To boxing?” Miles looked back at you, before nodding.

“Yeah. Eventually, I guess...” He let out a sigh, but it seemed like one of fatigue rather than frustration. You blinked away your own tiredness that was creeping back. "As the Prowler.”

“Got a lot of… prowling to do, then.” He pursed his lips at you in contempt, and you gave him a meek look in return. As much as you made fun of the name, it was pretty cool. “When are you thinking?”

“I’ll wait a little. ‘S too soon." Miles put his less-brutalised hand on your knee, looking at you a bit more earnestly. "Gotta make it up to you, first.”

“Obvio.” (Obviously) You tried hiding your smirk this time, but he caught it anyway.

“Driving me crazy for no reason,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head. The few times you did speak Spanish, it usually wasn't to be sweet.

“A good crazy?” you tried, hoping he'd humour you a little. Maybe he could find it sweet?

“Ni hablar.” (No way.)

Sweet enough to kiss you, anyway. With his better hand, he held the side of your face by his fingertips, pressing a short, chaste kiss to your lips. The feeling was warmer than anything, and you were left with a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as he pulled away.

“Te amo (I love you),” he whispered with his own shred of a smile. You caught a glint in his eye before his expression faded into that same serious look. “I'll fix up, I promise.”

“No need to promise." With your thumb, you finally smoothed the crease between his brows — an old, shared habit. It made his expression soften a little. "Cause you will, and you’ll make it even further next time.”

“Right,” he agreed, hand still lingering by your jaw. “I will. Gimme a time out if I don’t.” A laugh escaped your mouth at that.

"Sure." You met him with your own chaste kiss, your heart swelling as you felt him smile a little against your lips. “I love you too, by the way.”

The record had stopped playing, ages ago, you noticed, and there was another stretch of silence. Total silence, actually — it had stopped raining entirely.

“We should probably head back,” Miles stated as he looked out the window with you, before getting up with a bit of a groan. The two of you needed rest, especially him.

“Yeah,” you murmured, reaching for your jacket. “I mean, I sort of… snuck out.”

His silence made you turn back, only to be met with an unamused look. You tried not to laugh again. “So you’re sayin’ we’re both dead.”

“Pretty much.” He rolled his eyes at your sheepish smile, but you caught the corner of his mouth lift up as he turned to the door. It wasn't like the two of you hadn’t snuck out before — this was just like all those other times, just more… unplanned.

The night time air was strangely cool and breathable as you left the warehouse. Though the concrete was slippery, and you and Miles had to hold onto each other to not fall, Brooklyn was glimmering almost ethereally by the moonlight, the sky clear with any lingering clouds now gone. You hooked your arm in Miles' arm, his hands loosely tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. He’d have some explaining to do to his mom about his hands, and you’d have to creep back into your apartment as quietly as possible — but right now, in the silence hum of the city, you felt that things would be okay. Maybe they weren’t excellent, or ideal right now, but okay was a good start. The Prowler was a thing of the future, albeit near future. Right now, it was just you and Miles Morales, going home together past your curfews.

Ping! Ping Ping Ping Ping Ping Ping—

Way past your curfews.

At the same time, the two of you pulled your phones out, only to be bombarded with notifications of missed calls and texts. You were a short distance away from the warehouse now, and your phones had only just gotten signal. It was 1:02am, and you had walls of texts asking you where the hell you were and to "get your ass home right now" on your lock screen. Miles gritted his teeth, and you didn't want to think about what Rio had to say.

As the pinging died down, your eyes met, the both of you thinking the exact same thing:

“We’re so dead.”

You shot a quick message back and mental prayer, Miles doing the same before hastily linking arms with you again. He returned your sheepish look with his own as the two of you kept walking, trying not to slip in the puddles. It had already been a long night, and it was about to get way longer, but at least you could have each other’s company.

"~All my life, been a dreamer..."

"~Dream on... dream on..."

After all, you could guess that a lot more than just a “time out” was waiting for you at home.

"~Maybe somewhere... maybe somewhere..."

🕸️🔭👾

↑ the song! bobby bland 🔛🔝

felt a bit empty without a message hi this is vee it is midnight and i have to go to school in less than 8 hours ! thriving !!!! also if you're interested i have a post about just the au itself here <3

taglist (ppl who asked anyway 😭): @iissza

reblogs appreciated (like so much i literally melt and die) catch the rest of my atsv stuff here!

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pygmi-cygni · 1 month

Text

Snack

Poe dameron x reader, fluffy blurb, not edited

haha get it cause he's a snack lmao i'll see myself out thanks

You swatted a pair of wandering hands as you cranked on the engine, crescent wrench crammed between your teeth. Hoping a death glare would make up for your temporary muteness, you scowled at Poe. He pouted, prodding again at your sides.

"'M bithy," you mumbled around a mouthful of metal, "go 'way."

The poor X wing hacked up another billow of black smog, and you wedged yourself back into your tiny workspace. Defeated, Poe grumbled away, stomping across the grassland to his ship.

The two of you had been stranded for about an hour as you hastily attempted to fix the faulty engine in your X-wing. One of the mechs had skipped out on a full run-through before takeoff, and you were pissed. This wasn't a difficult assignment; just drills across the Castor Sea, but you'd done one barrel roll too many and your X-wing started to spiral.

Once the adrenaline was over, you were miserably clanking around under the hood, trying to assess the damage while suffering in the heat.

And defending advances from your adorable but incessant copilot.

Poe was a cutie, but he didn't realize that though the ship was gonna be fine, you weren't in a cuddly mood. He'd been touching and nuzzling the entire time you were working.

After the fifth strike you'd had enough.

"Poe, this wasn't an opportunity for a makeout session. My ship is having an asthma attack, and I need to finish this up so we can leave. We can hang out later, promise." You kissed his cheek as an attempt to placate him, before returning to your grimy task.

He tried to stick his hand back in your vest, and you lightly shoved him off.

"Dameron-"

"But I'm hungry," he protested, tugging at your sleeve. You threw the screwdriver on the ground and faced him. He was in puppy-dog mode now, cow eyes sparkling to their full capacity.

"What? The hell does that have to do with me? If you let me finish, we can go get you dinner, yeah?"

"No," he pouted. "I saw you shove a chocolate ration in your vest this morning."

You blinked. What...oh. "Seriously?"

Poe was playing with your tac vest straps. "Well, I dunno, it's hot and I'm tired 'n I wanted a snack, so-"

You groaned, rubbing your face in your hands. You tried to mask the grin twitching onto your face at his antics. Poe was always snacky, you were surprised he hadn't smuggled a few pieces into his ship for the ride.

Sighing, you made a show of undoing your gloves, tucking them into your belt, wiping the grease from your hands, taking as long as possible while Poe practically hopped with anticipation.

Suddenly, you collided with Poe's chest and your flight vest was gone. He was so hasty that it unzipped your flight suit in the process.

You yelped at the sudden exposure, looking at him with a mix of shock and betrayal. He paid your obvious embarrassment no mind, rifling through the pockets in search of the small square of foil.

"Give me my shirt back, I am literally half naked."

He raised his gaze to you, smirking. "Why would I want to do that?" He dramatically dragged his eyes over you, and your cheeks pinked.

"Just- grab your snack and gimme my vest, I'm almost done-"

Poe hummed thoughtfully, tossed the vest on the ground and made a move for you, nibbling and pecking along your jaw. His stubble was scratchy against your soft shoulders. You bit down a giggle at his feathery kisses, wriggling in his grasp.

"Oh, so it was a ruse then, you conniving little bastard-"

He laughed into your neck, warm breath ticklish under your ear. You took the distraction and stumbled backwards a few steps. Poe frowned, grabbing at your waist and pulling you back for another kiss.

"No, but the chocolate melted and you'll be an adequate replacement," he mumbled, lips roving over your grin.

"Adequate?"

He covered your lips warmly, hands curling around your hips. "Give me a minute, I haven't finished tasting. I'll have a better idea soon."

"Just kiss me, you idiot."

i thought it was cute idk lmk your thoughts xox love you!

#poe x reader #poe dameron #fluff #fanfic #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #star wars #star wars sequel trilogy #poe dameron x reader #sweet #kisses

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emry-stars-art · 7 months

Note

Oooh do go on about raven neil and jean 👀 (if you’re so inclined ☺️) - @neil-jostenminyard

*chanting* raven Neil raven Neil raven Neil (and lots of Jean) (quite possibly even jeaneil) (although most of the thoughts are post-ravens lol)

So my personal thoughts about this are also mostly thanks to chats and inspiration/prompting from @jtl-fics and @greenautumnleaves so if you see any additions from them on this post it's most likely also thoughts I adore lol

Anyway this got kind of long so:

I ALSO latched onto Sakavic's statement that Neil wouldn't leave Jean in the nest bc yeah it makes sense and also ow

But just the two of them being partnered up like Riko and Kevin as is common in these aus, and then after Kevin gets out first, they have to stick together and rely on each other even MORE because Riko is pissed that Kevin is gone and probably takes it out on the next closest two idk

But in our imaginings, Renee or Andrew get Jean out quicker than in canon, again because Neil would refuse to leave Jean behind and I can only imagine he'd go so far as to trick or manipulate Jean into leaving. Maybe by being at a certain place at a certain time to get picked up, however he can make it happen. But the issue we run into is that once that's done, what the hell would Neil have left at Evermore, besides Exy that maybe he still loves deep down. But Exy's been so warped being raised on it at the nest that at that point his obsession is barely recognizable.

Kevin might recognize this, because he knew Neil in the nest. Or at least he knew the person that Neil presented himself as. But it's probably more likely that Jean recognizes this, and yeah things are super rocky and weird but Jean can barely even function without Neil. So back a fox goes to rescue their second raven's partner.

They bring Neil back to Palmetto and he and Jean are completely inseparable. Emotionally and physically. Neither of them act like, feel like, or even call themselves "touchy feely" or "clingy" people but as soon as Neil is treated for various intense and mysterious injuries, they're curled up in some hidden place for hours. Even the short time having left Neil behind made Jean almost too anxious to leave his room. Even the short time without Jean - now with more punishment for aiding Jean's escape - was enough for Neil to consider something drastic.

(side note: Andrew now has not one, not two, but three gorgeous tragic boys under his supervision and I'm sure he's handling that totally normally lmao. But it's so obvious to him that Jean and Neil have something going on that any ideas for himself aren't worth entertaining.)

So it's a little easier to ease out of various habits and thought processes because Jean and Neil are doing it together, with outside help. They fix their sleep cycles/rhythms, try a slightly more normal college diet, and most slowly lose their "win or die" mindset in practices. They're still never seen without each other - Wymack had a talk with some of the school board about their schedules and dorm arrangements for the first semester. In reality, he's not sure if he should have them go cold turkey on raven habits or if he should take it slower, but he's doing his damn best to get these boys adjusted to life outside a cult. And Neil and Jean, whether or not they actively realize it, find that step to be the one they absolutely cannot take. Why would they go through the agony of learning to live separately if they don't have to. When no one else understands them like the other, when they've already seen each other's worst so nothing else is worth keeping secret between them. Who else is Jean going to go to when having a better life makes him feel like he more deserves death or punishment and the guilt hits him so hard he can't breathe, much less sleep. Who else is Neil going to go to when he can't let go of his birthright - if he isn't good at what he does (Exy) he literally could just be shot like a lame horse - and he's not allowed to go practice Exy against a wall to the point of tearing himself apart anymore so he forces his feet away from the court to find the only person he knows he'll listen to when they say no.

Kevin, of course, is keeping a close eye on the two, whether unintentionally or on purpose is unclear. Neil still has a mouth on him, he sometimes plays mind games with the foxes like chess against himself, and most of all does not allow anyone to get too close to Jean. Jean is still quiet, having learned not only to take a punishment without resistance but also that Neil will speak first. Neil will resist so Jean doesn't have to. He's safer in Neil's shadow.

Maybe it's a phrase or warning that Neil uses and that Kevin recognizes. Maybe it's a gesture between Neil and Jean that Kevin oversees. Maybe it's just the general demeanor of the two. But whatever it is is familiar to Kevin, not in a "I remember this from them in the nest" way. He can recognize by now that Riko was not good to him, he can acknowledge it even if the rest of him hasn't caught up. He looks at Jean in Neil's shadow and remembers himself in Riko's.

As if Butcher's son Nathaniel Wesninski wasn't already scary enough on his own.

But Kevin won't allow this kind of thing on his court, and he's not good at it but he is still trying to let go of unhealthy raven ideals. If Neil is holding onto some fucked up dynamic, Kevin is going to put a stop to it.

He pulls Jean aside, a miraculous feat. He asks what Neil has done.

"Mistake" might be an understatement.

It could very easily be the longest string of words Jean has said to anyone besides Neil. Kevin doesn't know near as much French as he does in canon - Neil is the one that shares that secret defiance - so it's all clear English, Jean making sure Kevin understands every word. Kevin should never speak about Neil that way again. He knows nothing about them, he shouldn't so much as pretend to understand Neil. Neil is the only good thing that ever happened to Jean. Kevin never cared enough to bring it up in the nest, so he has no right to start caring now.

It isn't great for their already tumultuous relationship. Kevin wonders for a bit if Jean would tell Neil about it - then next practice Neil doesn't even try to work with Kevin, even after the two had made it a point as strikers to figure out how to. He ignores the other strikers entirely, falling immediately and seamlessly into perfect synch with Jean behind him, speaking hardly a word of English the whole practice. Because he knows that will make Kevin even more angry than Neil being actively hostile to his new teammates.

Kevin isn't sure what he was expecting. Chances are Jean hadn't even needed to bring it up for Neil to notice something was off.

As for Andrew, I think he could still pick up a game of truths. He'd need to offer a similar deal as he did for canon Neil, this time for Neil-and-Jean, the entity of the two of them together. I think he could ensure some cooperation by saying he won't force Jean and Neil apart from each other the way some others have muttered about doing. Even if Neil knows by now the codependence isn't healthy, neither of them are ready to give it up.

It probably really throws Andrew to hear that they don't consider themselves to be an item. They're together, sure, but for a raven that doesn't always, maybe even rarely, means "in a traditional relationship". Neil and Jean definitely never offer any clarification. That's no one else's business, even if they could explain it so that a non-raven could understand. Generally I feel like if this is an andreil universe, it's an even longer, stranger, more winding road to get there than in canon.

I'm almost CERTAIN there's more Im forgetting about rn but this has been my taster on raven Neil+Jean, I hope it was at least a little bit coherent, and greenautumnleaves - I hope this comes anywhere close to your galaxy brain ideas on these two lol. Maybe I'll be back with other thoughts later who knows

#maybe i lied. maybe i will make raven neil/jean art of my own accord #because if any other pairing in the series drives me crazy it is whatever tf these two have going on #thank you for allowing me to text dump lmao #not art sorry guys #neil josten #jean moreau #jeaneil #nathaniel wesninski #raven neil au #oh also. i had to throw andrew in there not because of my vanilla shipping tendencies #but because theres far too many ways for things to go so wrong and end so badly for him in universes where he doesnt have neil #so he at LEAST has a bit of something. does this make sense

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joviepog · 1 year

Note

EEE HI JOVIE again i love love your writing and im so glad youve been enjoying my stuff!! anyway, sweet and simple request-- wilbur and reader having an at home dinner night :)) (if u wanna make it silly tommy could be their "waiter" LMAO)

much love !!

EEK I LOVEE THIS IDEA! ITS SO SIMPLE BUT SO GOOD AHHHHHH

-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡—♡-♡-♡-♡-

Lovely night

Who: Wilbur x f!reader

Warnings: i dont think there is anything but if there is just let me know!

Pronouns: She / they

Word count: I have no clue

Requests: @poraphia

Anything’s else: I actually liked how this turned out! thanks for the idea lovely requester!

This story is NOT proofread

Listen to this while you read! <3

Both you and Wilbur aren’t the richest people around. For you, this was absolutely fine. But for Wilbur?

Well, Wilbur is just a bit disappointed about not being able to spoil you as much as he wants. Since you both have met, he’s been obsessed with getting you little gifts and taking you to cute dates. But what he really wants to do is to be able to take you to the fancy restaurant down the street from your guy’s apartment.

He’s told you about this little problem of his and you cant help but giggle every time he mentions it. The conversation always ends with a kiss on the cheek and the same six words. “Wil, i dont need all that!” But lately he wont stop talking about it. He’s been daydreaming about you in a fancy dress and him in a fancy tux. Not the old cheep one he has for all those dumb occasions. No, he wants to be able to give you a bouquet of roses and a ring that means forever. But most of all, he wants to make you happy.

You’ve noticed that this was starting to get to him. Every time you got home he would give you a kiss and a hug -per usual- then he would start talking about this dress he saw on twitter and how beautiful it would look on you. “And that dress would be perfect for that restaurant!” And every time you say that you dont need all that, he looks like a kid being rejected of a puppy.

And so, you set up a plan. While he was gone on tour, you saved up, took cooking classes, and learned how to do your best makeup possible. You called him up one night, “Hi Wil! Are you busy?” There was a slight pause and he spoke quietly, “No, i just have to be quiet.” You gave a soft laugh and spoke quietly. “I just wanted to make sure i have the right day for when your coming back.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Why?” You pouted, “Why? What, I can’t miss my boyfriend?”

He apologized at least 100 times before he woke Joe up. You said hi to Joe and hung up. “I love you Wil. See you soon?” You asked with a smile. “See you soon.” You hung up and silence fell on the room. You had 1 more week. You bought the dress he had mentioned 1,000 times, you made sure Tommy was free, and you made sure the house was clean. You were ready.

-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-

“I’m two hours away.” he spoke and you could hear the boys in the back teasing him.

you fake sighed, “I guess i’ll just wait here. all alone, and sad, and-“

he stopped you, “Yeah i’ll try to hurry up.”

“No take your time, darling.”

he sighed, “All i want to do is get home and hug you.”

“Aweeee.” you put another fake eyelash on, “I miss you too baby.”

“Wilbur! The taxy is here!”

you laughed and he scoffed, “I’ll see you soon darling.”

“See you soon.” you hung up and looked at yourself in the mirror. you looked amazing. you hair was fixed, and the dress fit nicely just like wilbur said it would. everything was perfect.

2 hours: Tommy got there with a suit and a tie that was ties badly

1 hour 30 minutes: You and tommy set the table and clean the house. you fail to figure out how to tie tommy’s tie

1 hour: you start dinner and Tommy calls phil to help him tie his tie.

30 mins: you finish up dinner and you get out wilbur’s favorite wine

20 mins: you double check everything for 10 minutes

10 mins: you wake up Tommy from his nap and cehck to make sure you look good.

5 mins: you triple check that you look okay and you serve the food.

1 minute: You light the candles

0 mins: You hear a knock.

“Is that him?!?” you say with a cheerful smile. Tommy smiles, “No it’s the mailman.” he jokes. you roll your eyes and open the door. Wilbur has the biggest smile on his face and he’s holding flowers. You close the door behind you, not wanting to ruin the surprise, and jump into his arms. he gives you small kisses all around your face and neck; your giggling at his touch. he finally lets you go and you were so excited to see his reaction.

His eyes widen at the sight of you in the dress and he begins to ask questions. “YN? Where did you-“ you stopped him and grabbed his arm, interlocking your arm in his. you yelled out to tommy, “Ready!” tommy opens the door and the smell of delicious food swept through the door.

The sight of warm lighting and wine glasses were shows on the small table. Warm jazz music was playing and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of Wilbur. His mouth was agape and his eyes completely widened. He turned to look at Tommy, who had his hair slicked back and a napkin on his arm (still holding the door open he cleared his throat.) “Welcome Mr. Gold and Ms. LN. I have your table ready right over there. He nudged his head towards the table and you and Wilbur walked in. Tommy quickly close the door and pulled out the chairs for both you and Wilbur.

Wilbur sat down, still in shock, and looked at his plate. Tommy spoke up, “You see, we already served you food because your girlfriend here, preordered. Wilbur laughed and Tommy grabbed the wine glass. “Tell me when to stop.” He started to pour the wine and Wilbur told him to stop about halfway, you did the same.

“Anything else?” Tommy asked.

“That’ll be all. Thank you.” Tommy winked at you and nodded his head. As he walked away you turned back to Wilbur. “So?” His mouth is still slightly open but soon enough, his cheeky smile appeared back on his face.

“Well, i feel like I’m a bit underdressed.” You both laughed and spent the rest of the night talking while Tommy took photos of both of you.

What a lovely night.

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bobeni · 2 years

Text

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎O23 ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ፧ ‎ ‎EGGS AISLE ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏♡ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎

✶ users! › denji, m!reader.

✶ synopsis! › it could no longer be simply considered a coincidence; with how denji always seemed to pop up at the same time, at the same little store, just to see you.

✶ wrdcnt! › 1,586.

✶ cw’s! › fluff, possible ooc here we go, simp denji, trio stuff in the beginning, this is probably unnecessarily long lmao. i used they/them for the reader for one line, btw.

“Aw crap, we’re out of cereal and milk again! I’ma head out to the store to get some more!” Denji shouted as he zipped past two lazy bodies to the front door, snatching his hoodie off the rack with poorly disguised eagerness.

Aki sighed, looking up from the creased daily newspaper. “Again? That’s the third time this month.” His orbs followed Denji’s haste movements to shrug on the clothing.

The blond barely spared him a glance as he tried to fix his bedhead, “Yeah, yeah, I know, right? It’s bogus how Power keeps eating it all.” He feigned understanding just as said girl squawked at the blame now delivered to her shoulders. “What the fuck? I haven’t even touched the cereal since two weeks ago!” She yelled, mouth full of her breakfast, unfortunately it was just amalgamation of bacon and eggs.

“Ya can’t fool me, Powy, I know you sneak around in the middle of night, scarfing that shit down.” The gobsmacked look on blonde’s face was one Denji could remember for centuries.

“You bi一” as she was prepared to scream her indignation, she was stopped in her tracks by Aki’s agitated groan, followed by Denji’s so-called reassurance.

“Don’t worry, though,” the boy flicked the lock open, stepping an inch outside the apartment with every syllable. “I’ll make sure to replenish your stash, so don’t wait up!” Denji grinned at that last part, officially saying his leave to the both of them, the door narrowly missing his behind with how fast he tried to shut it.

With the boy off and out, Aki’s eyes lingered on the door. But they began to narrow in suspicion, prompting him to rise from the coach and walk into the kitchen for further investigation.

However, his investigation ended as soon as it started. The man found not just one, but several boxes of cereal, moderately filled. As well as the milk, as far back in fridge as it was, half full. This made his face scrunch up in confusion as he shut the fridge and leaned against it to turn his attention to Power一who now had a lap full of Meowy, clearly had to have been ruffled by the morning ruckus and sauntered out of their bedroom.

“Power,” Aki started. She nodded in his direction, still stuffing her face. “We’re still good on breakfast一he’s not just ‘going to the store,’ is he?” He wondered aloud, sighing at the thought of Denji pulling some shit.

“Yes, see!” she jabbed a finger in the air, “He’s up to something. Something... I can assume is very stupid.” Then Power just pets a purring Meowy as Aki shakes his head at it all.

Geez, that was close, Denji thought as he strolled down the sidewalk. It was getting real tiring having to think excuses pertaining to various foods they did or didn’t have. Many apologies and more to his family, but he couldn’t let them know the reason why he had those excuses for where he was going一especially not Power, god, he’d probably never hear the end of it.

Oh, what was the reason exactly?

He has a crush.

That’s right, the reason why he began waking up early in the morning and trying to make sure not a single hair was out of place一well, in his own unique way一was because someone is after Denji’s heart. And he’d so let them take it if they pleased.

One day when it was actually his duty to do some shopping, at this little grocery store a few blocks down from his apartment, is where he met you.

He was only there to gather the items on the short list that Aki handed over to him that morning, but when you stepped up next to him while he was eying two freaky looking fish, and the shy offer for assistance flew out of your mouth, he found himself a bit touched.

“But you don’t even work here, though?” was what he said back then, now eying you.

“Do I have to work here in order to help out some clearly indecisive guy?” The little chuckle that you ended your rebuttal with was unfortunately cute enough that it made his heart jump in his chest. When you leaned over to help him pick the better fish, his heart was absolutely drumming at how close you were and how easily his hand could slip into yours.

He didn’t say a single word of complaint when you offered to help him finish up his shopping; he just let his cheeks burn a bright pink while he trailed behind you with two baskets and hearts for eyes.

After that day, every other week or so he’d pop up at the store, yearning to see you, while also juggling his best attempts to make his appearances look normal and coincidental.

It was a flawless plan in his mind. Every day you two seemed to be getting closer and closer; then soon, he couldn’t deny the hope that lingered.

Even if it should’ve been embarrassing一considering how easily he fell for you after only meeting a handful of times. But he couldn’t really find it in himself to give a fuck.

Denji smiled proudly, maybe he could finally get to do all the things couples do with you.

Meanwhile the blond was gushing, it didn't occur to him that had already arrived at the store until he heard that familiar bell’s jingle giving him the signal.

Then he let his eyes wander, searching the store trying to pick you out of the bustling crowd of shoppers. He stumbled upon right when he almost missed you; you were crouched down by a vending machine, mashing away at the buttons.

With a little bit of pep in his step, he made a b-line for you.

“Good mornin’, [name].” Denji jostled the keys in his pocket when he tried to wave. You looked up at the approach and softly smiled at him. “Hi there, Denji. You doing some shopping again?” you made casual conversation as you were inserting money into the slot. Pink dusted his cheeks as he immediately responded with no, in his head. But in real life he stuck with a shy confirmation and told you that he just needed some cereal.

But as you were prepared to say something else, you were interrupted by two bags of chips spilling out of the bottom.

“Holy shit, what did you do?” Denji was cackling at the surprise you exuded.

“I don’t even fucking know,” you chuckled, pushing yourself up from the ground. “But how perfect is this?” the smile on your face was too warm, too soft, he almost ignored the next words that came out of your mouth.

“One for me, and one for you, Denji.”

You held out a bag for him and he stared in disbelief.

“You’re... gonna share with me?” He hesitantly reached for the bag, awaiting your next answer.

Still smiling you told him exactly what he wanted to hear, “I’ll always split stuff with people I like. Obviously.”

Obviously, you said. You also said that he’s one of the people you like. Obviously.

He was so glad it was obvious to you because he clearly missed a chapter or two一but he didn’t care, this was what he was hoping for the entire time. Maybe he’s got it.

“[Name]...” Denji called as you were already munching on your bag of chips. You immediately caught his eye, humming as you wait for the moment the boy was ready to speak.

“I... I just want ya to know that I really, really like you.” The blond laid his heart out on the table. “And I wanna date you and一nd take you out someday...?” He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the chatter of civilians the longer you kept quiet. And he was actually so ready to bolt out of the store right about now if this goes down a road he hadn’t hoped for.

But there you go, exceeding his expectations again.

“I know,” is what you said.

Denji’s eyes snapped open at that and you laughed at the shock written all over his face.

“You know? Wha一Whaddya mean you knew?” Because of the shock, Denji’s voice also was getting louder so you took his hand and led him outside to avoid any suspicious eyes. Though you were laughing along the way, Denji was angry pouting as he tried to shush you.

Calming down a bit, you stuttered out apologies before confessing. “I’m sorry, Denji, but it’s not like you tried to hide it or anything一” his mouth fell open. “I coulda sworn I was being subtle!” That was one of his most natural build ups for a confession, like, ever.

“You have the subtlety of a puppy,” you covered your face as you snort. “But that’s okay because it’s one of the things I like about you.” He flushed red underneath your teasing gaze.

“So... ya really do like me then?” Denji didn’t take his eyes off of you this time. This new smile of yours formed cute little crinkles around your eyes and he thinks it’s one of his favorites.

“If I say yes, would you be my boyfriend?” The sly question had Denji’s heart doing flips. He’d love nothing more than to wear the title of your boyfriend and to have you as his.

So he answered with a kiss.

✶ notes! › i actually completed this holy mf shit i did not have hope. i still think it’s literally too long for my original plan but whatever i’m kinda happy with what i came up with.

#✧ ˖ ⠀ sin’s joint . ❜#i. ֺ ۪ 𝅄 ▸ ⠀ the sky just seems so blue . ❜#ִֶָ𖤐˚ ⠀ csm.#ִֶָ𖤐˚ ⠀ denji.#csm x male reader #chainsaw man x male reader #denji x male reader #csm x black!reader #chainsaw man x black!reader #male reader #black male reader #male reader insert #x male reader

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chosos-lesbo · 2 years

Text

locked out of heaven (university au)

fratboy!mingyu x fem!reader

synopsis: you never thought you’d call him for anything other than sex, but after locking your keys in your car at 2 am, he’s the only one who answers.

word count: 2.9k words

warnings: cursing, (badly written) smut, oral (fem. receiving)

a/n: kinda inspired by me locking myself out of my car the other day (thankfully not in the middle of the night). also, i am obsessed with the idea of mingyu being a frat boy lol. also, this maybe kinda shitty because this is the first thing i’ve written in like a year lmao

“fuck, why is nobody answering?!” you exasperated, looking at the list of calls you attempted to make, but to no avail.

you’d think that someone would answer after 6 missed calls, but it couldn’t be soonyoung. you called almost all of your friends in your contacts; hell, you even called wonwoo. but those bitches wouldn’t answer the phone.

being stuck at a kind of creepy gas station at 2:30 on the morning was most certainly not ideal. when you had gotten out of your car to get gas, you’d thought that you left your door unlocked. however, after pumping the gas and trying to get back in the car, the door didn’t budge when you pulled the handle. the thought of how careless and stupid you could be caused tears to start building up in your eyes.

you scanned your phone, trying desperately to think of who to call. your eyes landed on someone that was probably going to be your last option; someone you would prefer not to call in your current situation: kim mingyu. you and mingyu have been fuck buddies since the start of the semester. you just so happened to meet at a frat party on rush night; how you didn’t ever notice this hot man until junior year was bewildering.

that night the two of you hooked up, exchanging numbers afterwards, and it ended up lasting till around halloween. one thing about your relationship though, you almost never called first, making this even more awkward. however, this gorgeous man was your last resort and hopefully your knight in shining armor.

you pressed the call button, holding it up to your ear. after four rings, the tears started to burn in your eyes, losing all hope, but the universe was on your side this time as mingyu answered.

“hey, love. i would never expect-“ he began, but was cut off.

“oh, thank fuck!” you cheered, with a sigh of relief. you choked back at the now tears of happiness.

“what, were you really that horny?” he chuckled, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“not exactly.”

“oh then, what is it?”

“so um, i locked myself out of my car at a gas station, and nobody was answering my calls,” you sniffled, wiping the stray tear that fell on your cheek. “i was wondering if you could pick me up.”

you could hear mingyu clamber out of bed, sounding like he hit the floor. “jesus, mingyu, don’t hurt yourself,” you scolded with a light chuckle.

“oh my god, y/n, i will be there as soon as i can. text me which one you’re at, but don’t hang up, okay?” mingyu rambled, sounding like he was shuffling around and then a jingle of some keys.

“okay.” you followed his orders, putting him on speaker and sending your location.

the sound of his car turning on brought yet another sigh of relief, and you finally felt comfortable enough to sit on the hood of your car.

“you still okay, love?” mingyu asked after a few moments. the simple pet name made your heart swell and cheeks heat up, but you’d never admit anything to yourself or others the possible feelings you had.

“yeah, thank you again,” you replied, a small smile forming on your lips. “even for a frat boy, you’re really sweet.”

“hey now, watch the stereotypes,” he scoffed in a joking manner. it was silent for a couple minutes before he piped up again. “okay, i’m turning onto the street.”

you hopped off the car, fixing your hair, and adjusting your clothes before his arrival. sure enough, 30 seconds later, a black jeep with a Lambda Chi Alpha license plate on the grill turned into the parking lot. mingyu pulled up to the gas pump directly in front of yours, putting the car in park.

you ended the call before you jogging to his car, climbing into the passenger’s seat. you sat there for a couple minutes, twiddling with your thumbs before anyone said anything.

“okay, so what do you plan on doing now? am i taking you to your apartment, or something?”

“we can’t exactly do that when i don’t have my keys, and my roommate is asleep. i called them countless times, but they never picked up,” you whined. the panic started to set in again; even though you finally had someone here, you had no fucking clue what you were going to do now. “god, i’m so fucking stupid. how the fuck does this happen?!”

“woah, it’s okay, y/n. this happens to everyone at least once,” he cooed, rubbing your back. “how about this: you can spend the night with me, and i can take you home in the morning. then, we can figure out the situation with your car.”

“okay,” you croaked out, your breathing starting to even back out. you smoothed your hands over your pants, leaning back into the seat. mingyu suddenly grabbed your hand, slightly startling you. he mumbled an apology with a shy smile, squeezing your hand.

you’d assumed he would’ve let go, but he didn’t. well, he did let go for a moment as he shifted gears to start the journey home, but his hand quickly intertwined itself with yours almost immediately.

you couldn’t help the blush forming on your cheeks at the sweet gesture. if you were being honest with yourself, you had began to develop feelings for him following the long conversations shared after sex.

you stole a couple glances on the short ride to his place, admiring how the streetlights would illuminate his features. he may have caught you once, causing your cheeks to heat up as a grin formed on his lips.

he parked and climbed out the car, and you only had a chance to open your door before he was there, offering you a hand. you accepted, stepping down from the jeep; he shut the door once you got out, locking the car.

you followed him the short walk down the sidewalk and to the front of the chapter house. even though this was definitely not your first time here, being under vastly different circumstances, you found yourself just sort of standing there after slipping your shoes off. thankfully it seemed all the others were asleep in their rooms, or at least just hanging out in there.

you looked around as if you were discovering what it looked like for the first time. you took a long exhale as you shoved your hands in your jacket pockets and began rocking back and forth on your feet. mingyu had began walking down the hall, but he must’ve felt you not following him. he stopped and turned around, giggling slightly at you standing there so cutely.

“make yourself at home, love. i’m gonna go grab you some clothes to change into,” he called as he continued along to his room.

he came back in less than two minutes with clothes in hand, which you accepted and went to the restroom to change. he may have seen you naked before, but something felt different right now.

once you got in the bathroom, you wanted to keel over after seeing your reflection. you looked an absolute wreck with hair going every direction, mascara that ran down your cheeks, and eyeliner smeared practically to your ears.

you washed your face and ran fingers through your hair to get the fly aways under control. after finishing washing up, you changed into the set of clothes that smelled of his detergent and cologne.

you stepped out of the bathroom, hugging your old clothes to your chest. you saw mingyu on the couch in the living room, scrolling on his phone. you coughed, gaining his attention as he set his phone down on the arm rest beside him.

“thank you for picking me up,” you say, getting flustered as his gaze was completely focused on you. “and for not saying anything about how much of wreck i looked.”

“i mean, sometimes you look like that after i fuck the shit out of you,” he replied, a shit eating grin. you gasp, throwing the clothes you had in your hands at his head. “i’m kidding. well, kind of.”

“whatever,” you muttered, biting back a smile. you went into his kitchen to grab a plastic sack to throw your clothes in. you return to the living room to find him standing up, arms stretched over his head as he yawned. the way his shirt slightly rose to expose some of his tummy and the muscles in his biceps had you biting your lip again, but for another reason.

he peaked an eye open, looking right at you. “i could feel you staring at me.”

“i can’t help it when you’re that pretty,” you shrugged, happy that it was his cheeks heat up this time.

“okay, well, i’m tired and ready for bed so,” he paused, walking towards you slightly. he crouched down slightly, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he lifted you. “let’s go to bed.”

“oh my god, mingyu!” you exclaimed, giggling at his antics, holding onto his waist for dear life as you hung upside down.

he jogged upstairs and into his room, kicking the door shut. he threw you down on the bed, climbing over top of you. his strong arms on either side of your head, and his eyes just boarded into yours. you expected him to kiss you harshly, but he crouched down to peck your forehead before falling beside you.

he rolled onto his side, wrapping an arm over top of you and pulling you to do the same. when you did, your eyes met his; this eye contact was different from how it was times before, at least if your memory serves you right. it would’ve made you insecure if it wasn’t for the gentle smile on his lips.

you took advantage of this moment to admire his features as well. the way his hair that had grown quite a bit since the beginning of the year, or the way the apple of his cheek became a bit more prominent because of his grin. you went back to look in his eyes, and as expected, he was still staring directly at you.

“not gonna lie, with you looking at me like that, i’d think you were gonna confess your feelings for me,” you mumbled, laughing lightly. you don’t even know why you said that, but honestly, that’s what you were hoping he would do.

he just laid there for a moment, slightly taken aback. he didn’t say anything as he shifted to lay on his back, now staring up at the ceiling.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said-“

“i do like you, y/n. a lot, actually.”

now it was your turn to lay there flabbergasted, which the surprise only lasted for a moment before the joy overwhelmed it. “good. me too,” you replied, sitting up. you swung one of your legs around, straddling his waist before falling onto him.

one of his hands landed on your hip, the other behind your head, as you kissed him. when he began to kiss back, it started out innocent, but his grip on your hip became tighter as his tongue slipped in your mouth. the other hand started tugging at your hair, causing you to moan into his mouth.

as the make out session continued, it slowly became more heated as you began to grind on his crotch. it seemed to flip a switch in his head, and he flipped you over, quickly moving on top of you. he quickly took his shirt off as you did the same, followed by your pants.

you laid there in your panties that most definitely did not match your bra, but it didn’t matter as the look in his eyes did not falter for a moment.

“you’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned, pulling you up slightly to meet your lips again.

it didn’t last long before he started kissing down your jaw and onto your neck. he found the sweet spot like he did every time and sucked on it, causing a moan to leave your lips. he continued to leave his mark as he worked his way down your chest. he reached underneath you, unclamping your bra, and threw it on the floor beside the bed.

he got lower and lower until he met your clothed pussy. his hand began sliding up and down your thigh before he paused for a moment, looking up into your eyes.

“do you want to do this?” he asked, waiting for your consent.

“fuck yes,” you answered quickly, raising your hips off the bed, so he’d be able to get them off easier.

he pulled them off with two fingers on each side, throwing them onto the floor. he kissed and licked his way up your legs, slowing down once he reached the most tender part of your inner thighs. he sucked on the sensitive skin, licking over your stretch marks and the fresh marks left there. he pulled your legs over his shoulders as he got closer to your cunt. his eyes looked up at you as his tongue met your folds, watching your eyelids flutter and you hands grip the bedsheets.

he found your clit, slightly sucking on it before teasing your hole with the rough pad of his finger. he licked over your cunt again before inserting two digits into your greedy hole, eliciting a moan of pleasure from you.

he continued pumping in and out of you with his fingers, slowly adding another, playing with your clit with his tongue. it wasn’t long before the coil in your stomach started to become tighter, and your moans becoming more sporadic. in this moment, you hope his frat brothers are asleep because if not, there’s no way they couldn’t hear what was going on.

mingyu’s mouth left your clit, but his thumb quickly replaced it, not allowing for your climax to slip away. he knew you were close.

“come on, baby. be a good girl, and come on fingers,” he commanded, which seconds after, you released onto his fingers with one last loud moan.

you panted for a moment as he pulled his fingers out, sucking your juices. he shifted, allowing your legs to fall on either side of him as he reached up to kiss you again. the way you could taste yourself on his tongue made you moan again, and you could feel his clothed length rubbing on the inside of your thigh.

“i want you inside of me,” you whined, breaking the kiss.

“i thought you’d never ask, baby.”

he quickly took off his boxers, freeing his member that dripped of precum down the angry head. he reached onto his bedside table, grabbing a condom. he quickly rolled it on and aligned his cock with your entrance. he sank in slowly, bottoming out in you, filling you so nicely like he did every time before he slowly started pumping in and out. the curve of his dick hit at just the right angle every time, causing a long series of moans to fall from your lips.

“you always take me so well, baby. your pretty little pussy is so fucking perfect,” he groaned.

the lustful sounds coming from him and you felt like heaven, and god, he never wanted to forget this feeling. the way your nails dug into his back, leaving bright red scratches over his toned back, and the way he knew his grip on your thigh would most likely leave a bruise that he’d probably feel guilty for later.

his pace became faster and sloppier as he began to reach his climax, but his thumb met your tender clit, rubbing quick circles over it. the way he knew your body like the back of his hand never ceased to amaze you. your walls began to clench around his cock, causing almost a growl to fall from his lips. he knew you were close behind him, so he didn’t hold back and released into the condom. he continued through his high, and you were seeing stars as the orgasm finally hit you.

a long sigh left your lips as your eyes rolled back into your head. thankfully, you didn’t pass out this time like you have in the past; that sure as hell gave mingyu a scare, thinking he went too far.

he slowly pulled out, your cum slipping out onto the bed as he did so. he quickly disposed of the condom as he got up to get a rag to clean you up. he threw it in a hamper on the side of the room before falling in bed beside you.

he laid on his back, and he pulled you to his side, allowing you to lay your head on his chest. you could hear his steadying heartbeat as you traced small shapes on his tummy. he gently ran his fingers over your back as you both laid there in silence for a moment.

“would you want to be my girlfriend?” mingyu asked quietly, his hand stopping. the thought of you rejecting him still crossed his mind, causing a lump to feel like it was building in his chest.

“yeah,” you answered, cheeks heating up slightly. you were glad he couldn’t see you right now because he probably would take the opportunity to tease you.

he raised up for a moment to turn the lamp off, but he settled back into his original position. it wasn’t long before he could tell you’d fallen asleep with your even, slow breaths and the cute way your feet would slightly twitch in your sleep. he kissed the top of your head, pulling you in tighter if possible before drifting off to sleep too. he’d deal with his brothers’ noise complaints in the morning.

#mingyu x reader #frat boy!mingyu #frat mingyu #seventeen fanfic #seventeen #kim mingyu #university au #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut

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jebewonmorelike · 1 year

Text

Devil by the Whiteboard

wc: 4.2k (so i was way off lmao) pronouns: none used; n/a warnings: MEAN!hanbin he is not nice so be forewarned but the ending suggests he can possibly be fixed maybe but no promises; being alone with a mean person in a hallway; light swears; angst but only towards the end; i wrote that they go to an academy but it could be a university it doesn't change the story summary: booksmart!reader is ready to finally win the scholastic decathlon, but a series of coincidental unfortunate events that couldn't possibly have anything to do with studentbodypresident!hanbin threaten to ruin their chances once more. ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ guys i did it, i finished my masterpiece. i hope you like it. academic play on the title of the txt song, i know-- clever. the scholastic decathlon is inspired by the one in high school musical. also pls don't make fun of me for not knowing how science or chemistry works, i was literally advance in science but my chem teacher in high school was on academic probation for being such a bad teacher and we all nearly failed our regional exams so. anyway pls excuse this or lightly roast me in the tags or comments. i hope you enjoy mean!shanbin... this one might need a part 2... or a prequel. or both. I'M SO EXCITED I FINISHED THIS OMFG I HOPE YOU LOVE IT!

(part two— “i didn’t think you had it in you”)

It's 7 P.M. on a Friday and there's nowhere in the world you'd rather be than at the Regional Scholastic Decathlon Finals. You're about to partake in your favorite extracurricular activity: more academics. There's only one thing you wish you could change...

"I'm so honored to be competing as a team leader in the Regional Scholastic Decathlon Finals," Hanbin says into the handheld microphone. "And I'm even more honored to be competing against who I believe to be the most worthy opponents."

You fight the urge to gag at the Student Body President standing next to you on the makeshift stage.

"And you know each other well, I've been told," the announcer adds with a laugh. "You and (Y/N) are something of academic rivals, yes?"

Hanbin laughs, smile lines on his cheeks only adding to his innocent, clean-cut image. "In the most respectful way. Wouldn't you agree, (Y/N)?"

There are, in truth, very few things you'd agree less with. Coming from a private academy for gifted students, there were several different Scholastic Decathlon teams at your school. The Green Team, the Red Team and the Yellow Team had all already been eliminated this semester, which left the Blue Team (led by Hanbin) and the Pink Team (led by you).

There had also been a new Purple Team formed at the beginning of this year, but they were disbanded when the headmaster found out the "experiments" they were conducting in the science labs were a bit unorthodox.

You honestly weren't sure how much of a "worthy opponent" the Pink Team was at this rate. The Blue Team had won Regionals for three semesters straight and it didn't seem like their streak would end any time soon...

Not with Sung Hanbin on their side.

You glance at the walking, talking cinnamon roll standing next to you and wish fervently that all his teeth would fall out. "Right. Respectful," you chime quietly into your own microphone.

"And (Y/N)! It seems this is always where the Pink Team meets its demise under your leadership," the announcer notes, a bit too happily if you're being honest. "What makes you think you can beat Hanbin this time?"

The audience of family, friends, and teachers laughs awkwardly at the dig of a question. You swallow nervously, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before you answer.

You and Hanbin were total opposites, both competing for the tile of top student since your first year at the academy. He was friendly, outgoing-- a networker, even. When the election for Student Body President came around each year, there weren't any votes cast for anyone except Sung Hanbin (and you knew that for a fact since you were the one counting them). You were more of a behind-the-scenes overachiever. Acing every class, developing plans and putting them into action, and keeping your head down in the hallways to avoid any unwanted social interaction.

Though President Hanbin had been asked to recite a speech for Teacher's Appreciation Week, it was Secretary (Y/N) who had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning writing it.

"I don't think I can beat Hanbin," you say finally. "But I do think the Pink Team can beat the Blue Team. I think that's what you meant to ask, right?"

There's a moment of uncomfortable silence before Hanbin grins, extending his hand for you to shake. "I couldn't agree more. This event is about our teams, not us. Every team member has worked hard to prove their abilities tonight."

You watch as the audience absolutely melts at the handsome boy's charming smile and his words of camaraderie that were merely a more attractive repackaging of your previous reply. You pull your hand back from his as quickly as possible.

The announcer smiles in admiration at the boy to his right. “You are entirely correct, Hanbin. My mistake. And what a wonderful sentiment for you to share with us.”

It barely even phases you anymore: the hold Hanbin could have on people. Maybe you’d have been captivated too, if you weren’t the one person who--.

“(Y/N)?” The announcer prompts, his tone indicating that this isn’t the first time he called your name. “Any words for your team?”

“Oh,” you mumble, mentally shaking off the embarrassment of daydreaming during a regional competition. "Let's do our best! No matter the outcome, though we will strive for a good one, I'm incredibly proud of the work my amazing team has done so far this year and you all should be as well. Fighting!"

"That's just swell," the announcer replies rather unenthusiastically. "Hanbin?"

Hanbin nods, smiling graciously at the announcer and the crowd. "We've put in so much time and effort this semester and I truly believe our labor of love has blossomed into a winning fruit. And, even on the chance that we don't take this win, I will still be so proud of that fruit that is my amazing team. Fighting!"

The audience applauds and the scream sitting in your throat is now desperately trying to claw its way out. Instead, you just smile.

"Hanbin has such a way with words, doesn't he?" The announcer muses to you.

"He does," you agree politely, muttering under your breath, "If that 'way' is stealing them."

"Then let's get this Regional Final started!" The announcer's words are met with applause as you rejoin your team behind your table.

"We've got this," your teammate Maria encourages, patting you on the back gently. "It's our turn to win!"

You nod, smiling at your team and giving them two thumbs up. "Let's win this! Fighting!"

The first subject of the Super Relay is mathematics, an event where each team's members must rotate in a line to solve a new equation while racing against both their opponent and the clock. As the team leader, you are last in line as you will have the least amount of time left on the clock to solve your equation.

Unfortunately, Sung Hanbin is also at the end of the Blue Team's line. While you're better at economics, history, literature, and geography, Hanbin has a slight leg up on you in the math and science departments. But you had been studying overtime and, even if you didn't manage to beat his time in this round, you were confident you could follow closely enough behind that your team would not be hurting for points.

As soon as both teams are set in their positions, the announcer raises one arm. "On your marks, get set..."

"Go!" He signals, lowering his arm as Maria rushes to the shared whiteboard.

Her equation flashes on the screen and you exhale with relief. Maria was the weakest at maths on your team, so she always went first in relays so the other four team members could make up the time. This equation is fairly straightforward and in her wheelhouse, so you're able to relax for awhile.

Each team member finishes their equation, placing their markers on the whiteboard shelf and joining the end of the line until it's finally your turn to solve. David throws his marker down too harshly and it falls to the ground, rolling to the other team's side.

Hanbin is now racing up to the whiteboard for his team, but on his way he bends down and reaches under the chair that your team's marker has rolled under. After a moment, he resurfaces; marker in hand as he smiles at you sweetly, holding it out to you as you run up to the whiteboard.

"I think you might need this," he jokes politely. You give him a nod and tear off the cap as you quickly memorize your equation, smiling to yourself as you realize you've practiced this exact problem in a workbook just last week.

"And look at this sportsmanship from Sung Hanbin!" The announcer commends. "He's the Student Body President for a reason, folks."

You put your marker to the board, attempting to copy your equation as you ignore the adoring audience's endless mumbling about Hanbin. As you write, however, you suddenly realize that the marker in your hand isn't producing any ink.

Panic flows through you as you scribble it desperately against the whiteboard trying to get the ink flowing again, but your efforts are fruitless. You turn to the announcer in a frenzy.

"Please, my marker isn't working!" You exclaim, looking to the judges' table for assistance.

"It worked fine for the previous team member," the announcer contests, watching as you show him the lack of ink. "But, yes, it seems to be out of ink."

He walks to the judges table as your heart sits in your stomach, terrified that some fluke could completely ruin your team's chances of finally beating the Blue Team. You glance over at Hanbin, who, much to your surprise, is looking back at you concernedly.

A judge brings you another approved marker and you resume solving your equation frantically, despite the judge relaying that you would have ten seconds added to your permitted time due to the mishap.

After about 45 seconds, you check Hanbin's progress and your spirit is renewed when you see how quickly you've caught up to him. You're now only two lines behind him in the equation and you can tell Hanbin is caught off guard by your speed.

After another thirty seconds, Hanbin steps back from the whiteboard and nods as he double checks his math. He circles his answer and lays his marker down on the shelf, running to the stop clock and hitting his team's timer.

The audience cheers at the Blue Team leader's probable victory, but you don't let it throw you. Another nine seconds and your answer is circled on the board as you run to the buzzer and stop the clock. Your team surrounds you excitedly, praising you for your focus during the stressful situation and your noticeably quick solving of the equation.

After the judges finalize the results of the mathematics portion of the Super Relay, they hand the announcer a script card. "The results are in! The winner of the mathematics Super Relay is... The Pink Team!"

Your team starts to cheer, jumping up and down ecstatically around you as you remain absolutely shocked at the unexpected win.

You watch as the announcer's eyebrows furrow confusedly, rereading the script card to check if the result is correct.. "Huh. Mathematics is usually where the Pink Team has the most trouble, but with the additional ten seconds added to their time clock... The Pink Team wins by just 0.45 seconds."

You can't help but notice that the announcer looks concerned by the results, but before you can analyze him further you're pulled into your team's celebration. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Hanbin chewing his lip nervously at the Blue Team's defeat.

You're halfway through the Science portion of the Super Relay when your beaker begins to boil. You watch as it bubbles furiously when it's merely supposed to be simmering on the hotplate.

You hover your hand over the hotplate, panic turning into confusion when you feel a low amount of heat that couldn't possibly be boiling the solution in this beaker. Unfortunately the alternative to a hotplate turned up too high was much worse...

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," you whisper, taking the beaker off of your hotplate with your gloved hands. As expected, the beaker continues to bubble over even after being removed from heat and you stare at the mixture in horror.

Where had you messed up?

You look around at the different tubes on your table, reading the labels of each vial carefully to see if you'd poured in the wrong liquid by mistake. You check each empty tube, verifying that they were in fact the liquids you had thought they were.

But there's one label that catches your eye in particular. The side of it is sticking up slightly and, cautiously, you peel it off to reveal another label underneath.

Glycerin.

Thankfully it wouldn't kill you, but it was a huge nuisance. You'd have to remake the solution and, as you glance at the time clock, you realize your prospects of finishing are hopeless.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1...

Hanbin hits his team's buzzer in the knick of time, the crowd erupting into applause for the school's golden boy. You chew your cheek, willing yourself not to cry as your team members begin to comfort you. Just as you compose yourself, you hear shouts coming from the other side of the room.

"(Y/N) couldn't even finish the experiment!" One of the younger Blue Team members taunts, smirking at you. "Pink Team is going down!"

"Maybe they should consider appointing a new leader," another Blue Team member jeers. "(Y/N) is clearly--."

"That's not very kind, Ilsung," Hanbin interrupts, placing a hand on the shoulder of both of the younger team members sternly. "Everyone here is trying their best and, unfortunately, mistakes are very easy to make under pressure."

"I didn't make a mistake. The--," you start to correct, but Hanbin has already stepped up onto his metaphorical soapbox once more.

"Whether we are winners in the competition or not, we are the losing team if we don't treat our opponents with the respect they deserve," Hanbin concludes, turning back to face the audience.

"Once again, Sung Hanbin proves his humility and kindness," the announcer coos as Hanbin shakes his head to politely deflect the compliment with a smile. "Exactly what we'd expect from the Fall Regional Scholastic Decathlon champion."

"What!?" You exclaim. "He didn't even win yet!"

"Anyway," the announcer continues as the judges hand him the results, "the winner of the science portion of the Super Relay is... The Blue Team! Obviously!"

You laugh hopelessly. "Obviously, he said."

"It's alright," David reassures. "Double the points in the final Humanities portion. The Blue Team has nothing on us!"

You nod, smiling reluctantly. "You're right. We can still win this! I believe in all of you. Let's do this!"

Pink Team is ahead 44 to 36 when you finally step up to the podium to answer your set of twenty humanities questions. Hanbin steps up to his podium, picking up his buzzer and breathing deeply in preparation for the upcoming questions in his weakest area.

You pick up your buzzer, placing your thumb on the trigger comfortably so that it doesn't cramp when you press it rapidly.

"Good luck," Hanbin says, smiling at you cutely.

"Yeah," you manage to reply without throwing up. "You too."

You fire off the five economics questions easily, hitting the buzzer a full second before Hanbin each time. You're on a roll and you don't have any intentions of slowing down.

"Now we'll move onto literature," the announcer prompts, rearranging his script cards.

"One second, please," Hanbin calls suddenly, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "This is embarrassing but I think there's something in my shoe. Can I be allowed to remove it?"

The judges look at each other momentarily before nodding. "Quickly," one agrees.

Hanbin bends down, untying his shoelace and shaking out his shoe. You look out at the audience, who are all both visibly and audibly fawning over how adorable the Blue Team leader is.

"So endearing, that Sung Hanbin," the announcer remarks fondly.

Hanbin finally hops back up to his feet, nodding at the judges and the audience respectfully. "Please forgive me for the delay."

"No worries at all. Let's jump right back into it then," the announcer segways. "Question six: What is the name of the collection of 85 articles written by Alexander Hamilton, John Jay—.”

You smile as you press your buzzer, but confusion sweeps over you when Hanbin’s buzzer sounds first.

“The Federalist Papers,” he answers, but you can hear a bit of uncertainty in his voice.

“Correct,” the announcer says. “Question seven: Name the correct order of the three cantos of The Divine Com—.”

You press your buzzer, Hanbin’s buzzer ringing out again.

“Inferno, Purgatorio, Paradiso,” the Blue Team leader answers correctly again.

You go through five more questions like this— knowing the answer to them all immediately only to somehow be beaten by Hanbin’s buzzer.

“Um, excuse me?” You ask before the start of the history round. “I think… I think there’s something wrong with my buzzer!"

The announcer turns to the judges who allow the complaint with a nod. "Please test your buzzer several times," the judge on the end requests, gesturing for you to proceed.

You press the button on your buzzer and hear it ring. You press it once more and it rings again. The third time you press it, your cheeks heat up with utter embarrassment. You could've sworn it wasn't working just a moment ago...

You smile uncomfortably. "I'm sorry," you apologize quickly, mortified as your bottom lip tucks between your lips shyly.

"It's okay," Hanbin answers, smile lines appearing on his perfect cheeks. "I know this last section is usually not my best, but I promise it's just because I've been studying so hard. I would be thrown off guard too!"

The audience laughs at his humorous compassion, your error only making way for another opportunity to boost Hanbin's morale. You swear you feel yourself shrinking down, down, down to the size of an ant as Hanbin gets every last point in the final round of the Super Relay.

You pressed the buzzer in the middle of every question.

"It's okay, (Y/N)," Maria says, resting her head on your shoulder. "I'm sure all of that stuff with the marker just threw you off. That wasn't your fault."

You shake your head, completely perplexed by how this had happened and now also beginning to questioning your sanity. "I was pressing the buzzer," you assert, fighting off another round of tears welling up in your eyes as the adrenaline of the competition wheres off.

"I pressed the buzzer every time."

"We'll get 'em next semester, (Y/N)!" David encourages. "And they'll never see it coming."

You force yourself to smile, not wanting to to show the team your real emotions. Had you really not been pressing the buzzer? Were you actually going crazy?

"Mm," you agree quietly. "Pink Team: Spring Regional Scholastic Decathlon Champions! We'll make it happen!"

Your team all puts their hands into the circle, shouting, "1, 2, 3: Pink Team on Top!" After saying your temporary goodbyes, you walk through the empty hallway behind the gym and hang your lab coat up on the designated rack. As you secure your lab coat on the hook, you hear a mumbling coming from around the corner.

"Here's five hundred," you hear a familiar voice say as you tiptoe quietly to the end of the hall. "I'll get you the other half by Monday."

"Are you kidding me? You said you'd have it in full! Should've known the kid that was paying me to help him cheat in a Scholastic Decathlon would end up screwing me."

You peak your head out slowly around the corner, taking care not to make any loud sounds that might get you caught.

"Guess that's on you then. By Monday."

As the two men start to go their separate ways, you duck back behind the wall and try to control the rampant beating of your heart. You desperately attempt to silence your breathing as you hear one set of footsteps approach, closing your eyes and exhaling with relief when they continue down the hallway and past your hiding spot in the adjacent corridor.

With your hands over your eyes, you rub your face as tension bubbles to the surface. "Oh my god," you squeak out as the interaction you just witnessed sinks in.

Suddenly, something slams down above your head on the locker you're leaning against and rips you from your thought spiral.

"I'm glad you're finally starting to see my appeal," Hanbin says with a smirk, both hands pressed firmly against the locker on either side of your head. "But I think god might be a bit too much, even by my standards."

You swallow nervously, having had the displeasure of being confronted by Hanbin like this numerous times before. You look around to check if by some miracle there's anyone still lingering in the hallway that's witnessing this.

"Just me," Hanbin seemingly reads your mind. "That's not a problem, is it?"

"Y-you--... You..." He tilts his head expectantly, waiting for you to stop tripping over your own tongue. "You cheated?"

"Oh," Hanbin coos mockingly. "Did I?"

You nod, feeling your bottom lip shake. "You paid that announcer to give you all the answers."

"What?" He asks, face scrunching up in confusion. "He didn't give me the--... You think I, the reigning Regional Champion, need someone to give me the answers? Come on, (Y/N), I know you're smarter than that."

You blink back at him silently, watching as his face lights up in amusement.

"Do you actually have that little self-confidence?" He asks, shaking his head at you in amazement. "You really think your marker just happened to stop working right when it was your turn to solve? Or that the glycerin tube was just coincidentally mislabeled?"

Your lips part as Hanbin pieces the truth together for you.

"You and I both know you pressed that buzzer first every single time," he says earnestly, pouting at you sadly. "Are you really that insecure that you'd believe you were going crazy before you'd believe that I'd rigged your buzzer while I was fixing my shoe?"

"You... you..." You attempt to protest, but once again your stammering proves why you're always just Hanbin's ghostwriter.

His eyebrows furrow in concern and it's unnervingly genuine. "Seriously, (Y/N)? Now you're kind of just making me sad."

The patronizing from Hanbin is the last straw. He can steal your words, he can call you names, he can even sabotage your efforts...

But the moment Sung Hanbin begins to pity you is the moment you can no longer just stand there and take it.

"I'm gonna tell everybody," you threaten, but your voice comes out far too soft and shaky for him to take it seriously.

"I'm sure you are," he mocks, smirking at you. "I'm sure this time you won't just suck it up like you always do."

You lean forward, your face now just a couple inches from Hanbin's and you swear you see just the smallest flash of panic in his eyes at your action. "You're right," you agree. "You're always right, Hanbin."

He stares back at you, unmoving.

"That's why I'm so disappointed," you admit, sentiment suddenly shifting. "It wasn't my lack of confidence that made the possibility that you cheated unfathomable to me. It was honestly that, even after everything we've been through, I've always thought a bit more of you than that."

Hanbin leans back, hands falling to his sides as he continues to frown at you.

"I really don't like you, Hanbin, and I don't like always being in your shadow, but the truth is: you make a much better leader than I would," you confess, everything you've wanted to say now flowing freely out of your mouth. "And up until tonight, I thought that if I had to stand in a shadow, at least it was of someone who on some level deserved to be casting one."

Hanbin just blinks, his lips parting slightly as you study him. When he continues to refuse to react, you turn on your heels and begin to walk back down the hallway in the direction that you'd come from. You're halfway to the doors when Hanbin's voice suddenly rings out behind you:

"Join my team next semester."

You turn around quickly, one eyebrow raised in shock. "What!?"

"You heard me," he replies calmly.

"That's--... That's ridiculous! And your team is full anyway."

"Not for you, it's not," Hanbin quips, walking up to you.

"But--... But--."

"Come on, (Y/N). You just said it yourself: you were never meant to be a leader," Hanbin says as he stops in front of you. "But you're smarter than me. That's why I needed to set you back. There was no way I could've beaten you fair and square this time and you know it."

You stare at him wordlessly, wondering what you did in your past life to have to suffer the acquaintanceship of such an infuriating man.

"Even being thrown off by your stupid marker, you knew that equation like the back of your hand," he continues definitively. "If you had spoken up about the mislabeled tube. If you had trusted yourself about the buzzer..."

"But you knew I wouldn't."

He nods. "So join my team. Anyways, I... I could really use you," he says, a sheepish look on his face that you've never seen him wear around you before. "Blue Team is always able to win Regionals because I know how to beat the Pink Team-- I know how to beat you. But we always lose at Sectionals because the smartest person at our school was on the team we just beat."

You bite your lip, chewing on Hanbin's words as you feel both intensely offended and unfortunately flattered. But you could never let him know the latter. "What about anything that I just said makes you think I would join the team of some cheating asshole?"

To your surprise, he just laughs. "I've never heard you swear before. It's kind of..." He clears his throat, trailing off before he finishes his sentence. "If I'm being honest, your sudden display of willpower is kind of throwing me."

"Well I hope it throws you into another dimension, you self-righteous prick," you respond, turning back around furiously and continuing to walk down the hallway towards the exit doors-- shaking your head at the audacity of the boy called Sung Hanbin.

"Then can I pitch an alternative?" Hanbin calls as your fingers grip the door handle.

You pause, not realizing the mistake you've made as Hanbin's voice ricochets off the walls of the gym hallway:

"Go out with me."

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