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#and recently she told me that what she remembers best from the thing was me and another coworker hiding in the same spot holding each other
kisses4reid · 3 months
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protect | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
summary - you get badly injured on a case, and the hospital visit ruins your surprise.
genre - fem!bau!reader x spencer, hurt/comfort, little bit of angst and arguing, fluff, happy ending!! reader can bear children (has female anatomy)
warnings - pregnancy, major injuries, mentions of gross hospital things, r uses she/her pronouns, usual criminal minds violences
w/c - 2.2k
a/n - thank u for the request! loved the idea immediately and this is the first time i’m writing abt pregnancy and stuff so pls do not quote me on anything!!! also this writing isn’t my best, sorry abt that. okay bye have fun reading
request - (@ursuu-la) hihihi idk if you're taking requests, but what if u write something where Spencer and a fem reader are dating and she's pregnant, but she's kinda scared(? or nervous to tell Spencer. And maybe she could tell it to one of the girls of the team to find a way of approaching Reid, but then she gets hurt or something happens to her in a case.
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“Oh. My. God.”
You turned your attention from the open manila folder to Garcia’s multiple screens, searching each one for something important, “What?”
“Y/n M/n Reid. You’re pregnant?” Garcia spun in her chair with an angry expression while pointing a ringed finger at the main computer screen. It was your medical history - which you allowed her to search so she could experiment with a new hacking technique - but you had forgotten about your recent discovery.
Your hand was clamped over your mouth as you stared in shock and started rambling through your fingers, “Garcia. I swear, nobody knows - I wasn’t keeping this from just you,” you placed your hands on her shoulders when she stood up in disappointment, sending her office chair to collide with the desk, “Spencer doesn’t even know, please Garcia. Don’t tell anyone.”
Your eyes searched hers for a promise or compromise, but instead you got welling tears.
“Garcia?”
“Y/n, your pregnant with a little Reid! This is amazing- How come you haven’t told him? I’ll have a new little nephew or niece! Y/n!” She squealed and took your hands to spin you in a circle in her small office. You immediately felt nauseous and slowed the excited girl, her hair accessories threatening to fall off in her happiness. You held your stomach and whispered,
“No spinning, I’ll throw up.”
She glanced to her computer screens and shut them down immediately, sitting back down and taking a deep breath. “This is great! Right? Please tell me this is great, you’re already 6 weeks pregnant.”
You bit your lip and nodded, “I mean, I think it’s great but..” You lost yourself in thought.
Last year when you and Spencer got married, you had talked about starting a family many times. But every time you both agreed to wait a few more years in order to save up more money and maybe move into a bigger apartment or even a house. This was not what you planned.
Spencer liked having a plan, it was one thing you grew to love. He was organised and, due to his amazing memory, remembered everything, especially everything about you. And though you two had grown so close you were basically one person, this was the only time you had no idea how Spencer would react if he found out your secret.
“I don’t know how to tell Spencer.”
Garcia grinned, but it was quickly wiped away when she noticed a certain figure in the doorway. You spun on your heel, heart attacking your ribs. Luckily, it was not your husband, but your boss. He stood sternly and started, “We’ve got a case, wheels up in 30.”
You nodded and turned back to Garcia, all she did was wave and whisper, “I’ll text you.”
In the plane, you sat next to Spencer in the aisle seat, stomach feeling queasy and phone vibrating non-stop in your back pocket. You pinched the bone between your eyebrows and squinted at the case files that Hotch had quickly gone over. Morgan was spilling some theories, Prentiss backing him up, when Spencer lowered his head and whispered in your ear, “Are you okay? You seem tired.”
You put on a small smile and nodded, the fact that Spencer had noticed something wrong meant that the rest of the team would notice soon too. You raised yourself and squeezed Spencer’s hand that had been in your lap. You murmured a small excuse me to Hotch and excused yourself to the plane’s toilet.
Spencer began to get worried for your health. The past week and a half, you’d been eating less and then more, and then you’d say you felt sick, and then you were full of energy. You cancelled plans, you slept more, and you had started avoiding Spencer. You were getting sick, and distant, and he hated how you wouldn’t let him help you whenever he asked. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head slightly, attempting to focus on the profile.
Sat on the toilet, ready to double over into the bathroom sink, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through Garcias texts.
What about a baby onesie with Daddy’s favourite child on it?
What about a candle lit dinner?
What about donuts that spell out ‘I’m Pregnant!’
I’ve seen people purposefully burn bread and wait until their husbands understand, maybe that?
Maybe. But right now, that was not what you wanted to think about. On top of the case and the whole pregnancy situation, your symptoms were becoming harder to conceal.
A whole day of analysis, interrogating, leads and dead ends led you to a one story run down house with broken windows and an overgrown yard. You threw the FBI bullet vest over your shoulders as Spencer approached you with a tight smile. His hair was shorter these days, after he finally let you start cutting it, but nothing could change his attractiveness. His cologne wafted into your senses as he went behind you, tightening your vest and patting your back and waist down to make sure you were at optimal safety.
You could almost imagine he knew you were pregnant.
“Remember, if he’s in there, keep your distance. He’s a big guy but silent, and not all there.” He furrowed his eyebrows as he did a last check over of your vest, belt, and the position of your gun. You smiled and nodded,
“I know, Spence. I’ve been here too.”
He sighed and nodded, placing a small kiss on your cheek as a good luck.
You were married, but there was no guarantee you’d both make it out of any case. Every movement could be your last, and every interaction could be your last together.
Morgan slipped through the door after a man picked the front doors lock, Prentiss behind him and you behind her. After you, followed Hotch and Spencer.
“Clear!” Morgan called from the kitchen. You turned right down a hallway, Prentiss disappearing into a small room on the right and yelling,
“Clear!”
You entered the small bedroom, gun high and steps careful. It was an adults bedroom, maybe a teenager. There was posters of horror movies, a thin mattress on the floor and shelves of books and wooden cupboard holding what you believed to be clothes.
“Clea-“
The wind got knocked out of you, your shoulder colliding with the wall to your left and a sharp handle being jabbed into your side, as you plummeted against the floor and hearing a loud thump and shattering glass beside you. Miniscule, rainbow, dots clouded your vision, the adrenaline and the concussion you were sure you had numbing the pain coursing through your veins. You screamed in pain, Hotch entering almost immediately.
You lifted your right arm to point out the window, the glass shattered from where the unsub had escaped.
Spencer entered the room in a rush, eyes running over the fallen cupboard that would've been taller than the both of you, and then your small body in the corner. You held out your arm for him, and he placed his hands under your armpits, jolting back when you screeched in pain. "Y/n, your..." His eyes widened in shock and fear at the sight of your dislocated shoulder. Your right hand clutched to your left side - no doubt trying to comfort a massive bruise or worse.
He gulped, helping you up and throwing your good arm around his shoulders. The sudden movements blanked your vision for a few moments, a small lump forming on the front left side of your temple, and your legs trembled in the sudden need to hold yourself up. "Y/n, we just need to get you to the ambulance, alright?" Spencer told you reassuringly. He didn't know how much you could understand, your eyes were cloudy and your movements spaghetti-like, but he continued to reassure you anyways.
The paramedics set into action as soon as they saw your near limp body strung across Spencer's taller build. You were placed in the ambulance on a bed and before you knew it, there was a heavy clamp on your finger and two paramedics touching you and saying unexplainable things to each other. A short one with a beard came close to your vision, obvious aware it was still slightly blurred, "Agent Y/n. We need to take your shirt off in order to fix your shoulder okay? We need to pop it back in as quick as we can."
All you could do is nod, Spencer making most of the choices for you as your husband - he wouldn't put you through something he knew you would disagree with. They asked him questions, and while the voices came in and out of focus, the adrenaline was wearing off and suddenly your senses heightened. "Is she pregnant?"
The question rolled off the paramedics tongue like a rehearsed poem, and Spencer shook his head like there was no possible way you were. But as you saw needles being prepared, your heart started pounding so fast it got the attention of the professionals. "Y/n, are you still with us?"
To Spencer, you looked like you had just woken up to a bad dream, but there was something deeper - you were not unconcious, if anything you looked alert.
"I'm pregnant." The paramedics glanced at each other and Spencer's eyes widened. The one with the needle placed it down carefully on a table, and before you knew it, you were being pushed through hallways and into a awfully bright room.
You passed out, fear and exaustion catching up to you. But Spencer couldn't sleep. On top of the fact that his wife had just gotten her shoulder dislocated and then fixed, and a slight rib fracture, she was also pregnant.
Spencer doubted for the first half hour of waiting for you to wake up that you actually were. You were saying nonsense, you were injured and the adrenaline... usually causes people to tell the truth. He paced and went over everything that had been happening. The change in your behaviour, the tiredness, the sickness. It was all coming together like a puzzle, and he wondered why he didn't realise sooner.
"Spence?" A small voice called out, and he approached the hospital bed almost immediately.
"Y/n." Spencer smiled in relief, overjoyed that you were alright and breathing. He knew you'd be fine, but anything can be unpredictable. Anyone can be unpredictable. "I'm so glad you're okay."
"What happened?" You tried to sit up but Spencers soft hands encouraged you to stay laying down.
"The unsub pushed a cabinet at you. You collided with the wall and dislocated your shoulder." He explained softly, the doctors told him that the specific pain killers they gave you may cause some loopiness. "Oh." You whispered, eyes searching his face like you had never seen it before, and you smiled. You were here, and he was here, and you needed nothing more. Other than more pain killers.
Spencer bit his lip, and sighed, not sure if it was the right time to bring the blindside up at that moment.
"Y/n, darling, are you... pregnant?"
The small grin wiped off your face and you took some deep breaths, nodding and avoiding his gaze in fear of rejection. Spencer sighed, and pushed his hair away from his face, a smile rising onto his cheeks. Tears welled in his eyes from happiness. "This is great, this is... wow Y/n, I can't believe.." He gulped, "I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner."
Confusing his disbelief for anger, tears started dropping down your cheeks as you sat in silence. Spencer started to worry, "Do you... not want to have a baby with me? Or at all? Do you think I won't be a good father? I know that I've had my problems in the past but I promise I can be a good father-"
"Spencer." You called his name in shock, heart aching over his insecure questions. "I do want a baby, especially one with you. And I don't think you'll be a good father, I know you'll be a great one. I just," you wiped your cheeks and he sat down in a chair beside your bed, taking your hand in his. "I'm scared. I thought that you wouldn't want to have one right now because of our... plan. This is really early and we didn't get to save- and- I thought you'd be mad-" You had started blubbering now, the heart monitor becoming a ticking time bomb for a full on breakdown, before Spencer took your face in his hands and smashed your lips onto his.
He pulled back, smile wide, eyes full of adoration and sorrowfullness.
"Y/n, I don't care about that plan anymore. And I'm not mad." He searched your eyes with his, "I just wished you told me earlier. Maybe you wouldn't have been injured, because god knows I wouldn't have let you go out into the field."
"Spencer, I'm so sorry." You sniffled, placing your other hand on top of his.
"Oh, darling. You don't have to be sorry. I've made my injured and pregnant wife cry, I should be sorry."
You giggled, and leant forward to kiss him on the nose. "So it's really okay?"
"Of course. You just have to heal quickly, and I'll do all the rest."
taglist (open!!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m
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inkskinned · 8 months
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crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.
i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.
in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.
i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.
i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.
plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.
the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.
we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.
i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.
a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.
today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.
loved beyond thinking.
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emberuby · 3 months
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you deserve better | l.hs
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pairing: lee heeseung x fem! reader
summary: heeseung overhears you crying about your asshole of a boyfriend. he'd do anything to show you how much better you deserve.
warnings: best friend's brother! heeseung, age gap (hee is 3 years older), mentions of body shaming, heavy insecurity, toxic ex, infidelity but it's deserved, soft dom! heesung, simp heesung, sub! reader, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, missionary, creampie, sort of angst?, hurt comfort, not proofread.
wc: 4.7k
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“Stop being such a pussy and break up with him already,” Sunoo groaned, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. Hojung slapped him on the shoulder and glared fiercely. She felt a surge of frustration on your behalf at Sunoo's nonchalant attitude.
“Sunoo! That’s not helping,” Hojung snarled, her eyes filled with annoyance as she looked at him, but they softened when she turned back to you.
You looked utterly miserable, eyes red and puffy from crying. Your hair was a mess, and your mascara was smeared in blotchy streaks across your cheeks from constantly rubbing your face.
You had recently discovered that your boyfriend of six months was growing bored of your relationship, especially your sex life. You knew it was a trivial thing to cry over, and Sunoo was right. Breaking up with him would be the simplest solution to end this cycle of misery.
“Come on, I'm just being real. He’s clearly not worth it. He humiliates you in front of his friends, sexualises you in front of them, mocks your weight, and can’t even make you orgasm but has the audacity to say the sex is boring? Hojung, why haven’t we kicked his ass yet?” Sunoo folded his arms across his chest and scowled, imagining the worst possible things happening to your boyfriend.
Hojung looked deflated as she slowly nodded, agreeing with everything Sunoo said. She grabbed your hand softly and looked at you with pure sympathy. “Y/N, I hate seeing you like this. Why are you still with him?”
You hiccuped, feeling on the verge of tears again at her worried tone. Despite hating to burden your best friends with your problems, they had been persistent in getting you to open up about what had been happening since they noticed your change in demeanour over the past few weeks.
You had been unusually quiet and dejected, often barricading yourself in your room. Sunoo and Hojung decided to hold an intervention, and now here you were, tipsy off a few seltzers, spilling everything that had been plaguing your relationship onto them. At first, they were angry with you for not telling them sooner, but now their focus was solely on your cunt of a boyfriend.
“I don’t know,” you sniffed, “I have no idea why I’m still with a man who makes me so utterly insecure. I guess I think…I won’t be able to find someone if I were to leave him. I’ve never had guys go after me so a small part of me thinks I should just deal with this because what other choice do I have?” You knew you sounded pathetic, but at this point, you couldn’t care less. 
“Is that what he told you?” Sunoo asked, now matching Hojung’s level of rage.
You stayed silent, but the answer was yes. Your boyfriend always told you how lucky you were to be in a relationship with him given how dull and flawed you were. Before this relationship, you couldn’t remember having this many confidence issues, but ever since he came into your life, you can’t help but believe his words. Maybe you were so undesirable that this is your one and only chance for a relationship. 
“Snap out of it, Y/N! None of what you said was true. You are beautiful and so incredible." Hojung furrowed her eyebrow and drunkenly yelled, “I will kill that bastard for making you feel this way, I swear!”
“Oh! But if I said that, you’d call me all sorts of dramatic,” Sunoo scoffed.
“Yeah, because you would actually mean it,” Hojung retorted, snapping her fingers in front of Sunni’s face. It made you flashback to your early high school days when Sunoo would go after boys who teased you, usually by physically confronting them in the courtyard.
“I…You’re right. Both of you. I will break up with him, soon. I just hope I’m not such a coward that I chicken out like last time,” you used the ends of your sweater to wipe the tears away from your eyes, not caring anymore about the mascara stains that were being left on the fabric.
“You’re telling me you tried to break up with him before and didn’t follow through?” Hojung gasped. 
Before you could answer, you heard footsteps approaching. Turning around, you saw Lee Heeseung, Hojung’s older brother. Despite knowing he was off-limits, you couldn’t help but get nervous and infatuated every time he was around. Ever since you met him at thirteen, you’ve had a crush on him that was all too obvious to Hojung, not that she ever commented on it.
Perhaps it was slightly more than a tiny crush, but either way, you knew your place and never sought after him. Even if he wasn’t your best friend’s older brother, you knew he was way above your league. He carried himself with a confidence and beauty you could only dream of possessing.
It had been a year since you’d last seen Heeseung. He went off to a university in Europe but came back periodically to visit his family. Now that he was almost graduating and had more free time, he decided to come home for a few months and was staying at your and Hojung’s apartment for the week to catch up with his baby sister. 
Hojung snapped her head up at him, furrowing her eyebrows. “Heeseung! What do you need? We’re having a private conversation,” she scolded. 
Heeseung came up behind her to ruffle her hair, much to her annoyance. “You need to watch how much you drink,” he said sternly. 
“Ugh, I didn’t drink that much. I’m fine. Now go away!” She slurred.
“Fine!” Heeseung raised his arms slightly in surrender, “I just came to get some water.”
Heeseung looked down into your eyes, mesmerising you. You held eye contact for a moment before you got too nervous and tried to find anywhere else to look. Although his stare was rather intense and mostly unreadable, there was a hint of concern etched on his expression. “You okay?” He asked.
You nodded meekly, face heating up at the embarrassment of him having to see you in this state—a crying and babbling mess over a boyfriend who clearly wasn’t worth your tears. You tried to lower your gaze so it wouldn’t be so obvious to him, but it was mostly useless.
Heeseung walked over to the fridge and took out four water bottles. When he came back to the table, you felt him behind you, and the heat emanating off his body was all too noticeable. Your breathing became irregular as he leaned over from behind you to place the water bottles on the table. 
Hojung took a swig of water and suddenly tumbled out of her seat, running towards the kitchen to empty the contents of her stomach into the sink. You stood up to hold her hair back, followed by a worried but calm Heeseung. 
“How much did she drink?” Heeseung asked.
You kept your mouth shut, but Sunoo didn’t seem to have a problem with tattling as he said, “A few seltzers, a bottle of soju, three shots of tequila,” he grabbed a can from Hojung’s side of the table and inspected it, “And a beer?”
“Fucking hell,” you heard Heeseung murmur under his breath. “Hojung, what is your problem? You know you’re a lightweight.”
Hojung just groaned back, too dishevelled to say anything. You placed your palm on her forehead and felt it burn. 
“Alright, that’s enough, let’s wrap it up. Hojung, go to bed,” Heeseung scolded. 
“Sunoo, I’ll call you an Uber and—,” you started.
“No, he can stay and sleep on the couch, it’s too late. All of you go clean yourselves up and go to sleep,” Heeseung instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Heeseung and Sunoo led Hojung back to her room, holding onto her by the shoulders.  
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You were sitting alone at the table now, scattered with empty cans of cheap alcohol and glass bottles of half-empty liquor. It was half past midnight, and although you desperately wanted to sleep, your mind was still plagued with the thoughts of how you were going to break up with the man who was poisoning your life.
You hadn’t even realised that Heeseung sat across from you until you felt him grab the drink can from your hand. He looked over to you disapprovingly, but also worried. 
“Hojung and Sunoo both went to bed, you should too,” he said quietly. His voice was so soft and soothing that it did make you want to fall asleep to the sound of it.
“I don’t think I can.”
Heeseung had heard everything you said, and he was doing a rather good job at hiding just how enraged he was at your scum of a boyfriend. Not to mention how angry he was at the words you said about yourself. It made him want to grab you by the shoulders and tell you in detail just how gorgeous and desirable you were, right after breaking the jaw of the man who made you cry like this.
If it were up to him, you would never cry unless it’s from pleasure from how good he made you feel. 
He snapped out of his crude thought. “Your boyfriend sounds like a real charmer,” he said sarcastically. 
You looked away from him, embarrassed, “So I guess you heard everything?”
“Sorry,” he said all too unapologetic, “I’m not the type to eavesdrop, I swear.”
“It’s fine. I just don’t want you to think I’m pathetic. I swear I’ll break up with him tomorrow.”
“I don’t think you’re pathetic at all, just misguided. You think way too low of yourself.” His stare made you feel so small. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Y/N.”
Your face heated up like crazy. You finally looked back up into his eyes and Heeseung felt amused at your flustered and shocked face. You were adorable beyond your comprehension. 
“You don’t know how many men would do anything to have you.” Present company included, Heeseung thought. 
You shook your head, chuckling weakly, “You don’t have to say that.”
His eyes went dark now, frustrated at how you didn’t believe him. He leaned over the table to grab your hand. It was comforting and far too gentle for you to have reacted by flinching at the sudden touch. “I mean it, Y/N. You deserve so much better than him,” he lowered his voice and whispered, “You deserve to feel good. A man who can’t pleasure his woman is what’s actually pathetic.”
You had no idea what to say at that, your body going stiff at his insinuating words and the feeling of his thumb rubbing over your hand. 
He smiled tenderly at you, trying to soothe your worries. “I could show you what it feels like to be taken care of.” He leaned closer towards you now, and you felt yourself leaning as well. “Come sit over here,” he patted his lap.
You had no idea what you were thinking when you stood up from your seat and began walking towards him, but you felt him pulling you in. In these months of misery and heartbreak, Heeseung’s comforting presence was magnetic and you couldn’t stop yourself from getting close to him.
You stood in front of him, and he gently held your waist to pull you down to sit over his lap, legs scandalously spread in front of his pelvis. You felt yourself heat up even more, especially the in-between of our legs. You were wearing pyjama shorts and a baggy white shirt, no bra. Heeseung snaked his arms up your back and pushed you even closer so your chest was flush with his. 
You were flustered at the feeling of your tits pressed up against him, and your shorts dampening ever so slightly with your arousal. 
“I bet I could be a better kisser than him,” Heeseung whispered. 
Your faces were so close now that one slight push would have your lips pressed up against each other. “We…We can’t do this Heeseung,” you managed to say.
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” He cupped your face, “you’re going to break up with anyways.”
“No, that’s not it,” you bit your lip and reached up, grasping onto his shoulder, “It just feels…I don’t know if Hojung will be happy with me—”
He placed a finger over your mouth, “Shh, enough of that. She doesn’t matter right now, and you do. What is it that you want?”
You leaned into his palm, ever so hypnotised by his stare. You stayed silent, your mind thinking of all the ways this may hurt Hojung. What if she thought of you as betraying her? You’ve always had feelings for him, but what if you succumbed to your desires as just a means of using him to get over your heartbreak? You cared far too much about Heeseung to do that to him. What if he just wanted to use you? 
You were snapped out of your thoughts when Heeseung grabbed you tightly by the hips, making you rub your pelvis against his, not helping at all with your wave of arousal. You held back a whimper. “Tell me, gorgeous. What do you want?”
“I want you,” you finally pushed yourself against his lips. It didn’t take long for Heeseung to hold your head and push his tongue inside your mouth. The way he was using his tongue was making you hazy, not being able to suppress your noises any longer. It was rough and passionate. A fiery passion you weren’t used to. 
“Stay quiet, baby. Don’t want to wake anyone up, right?”
You nodded weakly, but you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to keep that promise. His tongue now latched onto your jaw and you clasped your lips together to hold back your whimper. Your squirming made Heeseung’s cock harden and stand up, and you began feeling sensitive to the feeling of his erection pressing up against you. 
It was almost involuntary the way you began grinding against his crotch, and you felt desperate. His lips were now on your neck and he grabbed a handful of your ass, steadily pushing you back and forth on his thighs. It made you see stars. 
It was embarrassing how you felt yourself nearing your orgasm just by this. You have been so sexually deprived and neglected it made you sensitive to real and passionate intimacy. It was in the feeling of your clit pressing against the fabric of your panties, and Heeseung’s hand inside your shirt playing and palming at your tits. Your nipples hardened at the pressure.
Fuck, you were going to cum practically untouched.
You quickened your pace, your hips beginning to tire as you started chasing the high.
“Are you going to cum, baby?” Heeseung whispered. You nodded meekly, not being able to speak a word. He gripped your hips, halting your movements. “Why don’t you take off your panties and ride my thigh? It will feel so much better.”
Although you were frustrated by having your pleasure taken away from you, you stood up on unbalanced legs in front of him once more. He put two fingers into the hem of your shorts and pulled you towards him. He leaned his head towards your leg and began placing kisses on your thigh as you felt your shorts slide down your legs and eventually pool on the floor.
“You’re fucking drenched,” you felt him place his fingers on the wet spot on your panties and whimpered at the feeling. “Have you ever been eaten out?”
You shook your head. Your boyfriend was the first sexual relationship you had, and he never seemed to be interested in making you feel pleasurable. You weren’t even sure if he knew how to.
“Bastard,” Heeseung murmured under his breath. He was utterly furious at how your boyfriend had practically been using you for his own pleasure like you were some object. He discarded your panties and pulled you back on his thigh.
Your clit came into contact with his thigh. He rocked you back and forth and your mind short-circuited at the friction of his jeans and your sensitive clit. You pressed your lips into his shoulders trying to muffle your moans, not trusting yourself to keep it in.
Heeseung was in bliss seeing you like this, desperate and beautiful and in utter pleasure. He felt his jeans get dampened from where your cunt was drooling on them. 
Because you were already so hot and stimulated, it didn’t take long for you to feel it. The feeling was almost foreign to you since it’s been so long since you’ve pleasured yourself. You were going to cum on his thigh. 
“I-I think…I’m close,” you whined.
“I know, baby,” he cupped the back of your head gently, “cum for me.”
You rolled your eyes back as you felt your orgasm wash over you. You felt it everywhere in your body. You wrapped your arms tightly around Heeseung’s torso, almost like you’d fly away if you weren’t anchored to him. He kept slowly pushing you on his thigh, gently helping you come down from your high.
“Thank you, Heeseung,” you said after you had time to calm down.
“Don’t thank me. Not yet,” he chuckled. You were confused until you felt yourself rise as he picked you up and began walking towards his bedroom.
He laid you gently on his bed and leaned down to press his lips on your forehead. You were prepared for him to fuck you some more, and as much as you were tired, a major part of you was excited at the thought of him wearing you out for the night. You were surprised when he stood back up and grabbed your phone out of his pocket. You had no idea how you got that.
“Open it,” he demanded. You did so, feeling upset at yourself for being so unquestioning and submissive. You couldn’t help yourself though as you had the utmost trust towards Heeseung. 
He went through your contacts and found the man he was looking for. His name on your phone was followed by a sparkly pink heart after it. It made him want to gag. He pressed the call button, surprised at how quickly the man picked up given how late it was into the night. “Babe?” came out of the other line.
He put it on speaker and handed you the phone. You were immensely afraid to take it, still hesitant about your ability to leave this dead relationship. “Tell him. Tell him now or I will,” he whispered spitefully. He wanted to watch you dump that pathetic excuse of a man before he let himself have you fully. 
He couldn’t give a fuck about how the other man felt about his girlfriend cheating on him, but he knew you needed to get this over with. He wanted you to forget your boyfriend and focus solely on him as he took you.
“Y/N, what do you want?” the voice on the phone came out harsh as he was getting annoyed at your silence, making Heeseung clench his fists. How dare he speak to you like that, he thought.
“H-Hi…I called because I wanted to tell you something,” you said gently. Heeseung was sure he did not deserve to hear your soft voice. 
“Okay? Well hurry the hell up, I want to sleep.” Heeseung felt himself holding back from becoming violent.
“I think…I don’t think I can keep doing this.”
“Do what? What are you talking about?”
“I…,” your eyes trailed towards Heeseung, looking for help. He held your hand to help comfort you, but he wasn’t about to break up with your boyfriend for you so he gave you a stern look to continue what you were saying. You decided to rip the bandaid and said, “I think we should break up.”
There was a silence on the other line until your boyfriend—now ex—began raising his voice and cursing at you, “You’re not fucking serious, Y/N. Is this seriously why you called me in the middle of the night? I mean, what the fuck?” You noticed Heeseung clench his jaw. “Go ahead, leave me. You’re just going to come crawling back when you can’t find someone who can put up with how boring you are. Honestly, you are suck a fucking bitch, too scared to—,” Heeseung grabbed the phone out of your hand.
There were tears welling up in your eyes, but you were trying your absolute best not to cry over this prick. You already embarrassed yourself enough. 
Heeseung knew he couldn’t yell in fear of waking up the others in the apartment, so he said as quietly as he could, “Listen here you fucking cunt. Speak to her like that again and I will rip your throat out with my bare hands, do you understand?”
“Who the fuck are you?” the man on the line spat, but you could hear the slight fear in his voice. Your ex has never been a particularly confident man around men who intimidated him. Heeseung’s strong presence was clearly making him feel inferior, even if it was through the phone.
“I said do you understand? Never call this number again. In fact, don’t step or look or breathe anywhere near her, asshole.”
“Are you fucking—,” Heeseung ended the call and blocked his number for good measure. 
Heeseung leaned down and pressed his forehead against your forehead, “How do you feel?”
Instead of responding you grabbed him by his shirt and pulled his lips on yours. You felt like your body would not function unless he was on you. You didn’t want Heeseung to think you were upset over leaving your boyfriend, because you weren’t. You couldn’t give a fuck about him anymore, but fuck were you embarrassed by your cowardly attitude.
You may have been too weak to take action against your now ex-boyfriend, but you mustered up all of your strength to show Heeseung how much you wanted him, and solely him. 
He grabbed your waist and pushed your back on the mattress. You were moaning into each other’s mouths. It was hot and desperate. He needed you just as much as you needed him.
“Fuck,” he groaned, one hand pinning your wrists above you, the other descending down to your waist and grinding into you. You moved your hips up to meet his, trying to satisfy your craving for getting him inside you. 
He kissed you one more time before trailing his mouth down your throat, eliciting louder moans out of you. “Please,” you begged. You moved your hands to try to take off his shirt, forgetting he had them restrained. 
Heeseung let go of your hands, but instead of undressing himself, he peeled off your white shirt, leaving your bare breasts on display for him. He couldn’t hold himself back from moaning, gripping one with his hands and wrapping his lips around the other. It was practically impossible to keep quiet at the feeling of his mouth flicking and sucking on your sensitive bud. 
You felt his fingers yet again, but this time on your bare cunt, making you flinch in sensitivity. “Heeseung…,” you said breathlessly.
“Baby, you’re drenched,” his eyes were like a predator before it was about to devour its prey. He moved down the bed, placing your legs over his shoulders, thighs resting comfortably on his shoulders. He began lapping at your hole, and it felt like this was all that he was made to do. He was meant to pleasure you and now that he has been given the chance, he won’t be able to live without the feeling of your arousal on his tongue.
He licked up all your juices and then moved up to begin sucking on your clit. You accidentally yelped, despite your desperate effort to stay quiet. Heeseung chuckled, and looked up at you, “Baby, I told you to stay quiet. Or would you rather I shove your face into the mattress and take you from behind?”
You clenched at the thought, not entirely sure if you would mind. It didn’t get past him how positively you reacted to his threat. “Next time,” he murmured before continuing the devouring of your cunt. 
Your hand was tightly pressed over your mouth as you felt yourself cum on his tongue, your body shaking as you began to take in the feeling of overstimulation. You don’t remember a time in your life when you’ve had more than one orgasm in a single night. Heeseung climbed up once more and placed a kiss on your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
“You taste incredible,” he groaned, making your face heat up in flames. You couldn’t believe he could say such intimate and coarse things so calmly. He began kissing your neck again, surely leaving a mark for tomorrow. That’s something your future self would have to worry about. 
He slid off his jeans and groaned as you reached down to cup his cock with your hand, mind going haywire at how massive it felt. You were nervous now to take it in your cunt, but he removed your hand and thrust himself inside you in one quick motion, wrapping your legs around his waist. 
You were both moaning now, your walls blaming around his cock from the pleasure, but partly due to your struggling of trying to take his size. You were still a bit too tight even with the two times he’s already made you cum. He let you slowly adjust to it before increasing his rhythm, pumping his cock more deeply and quickly.
His back was now littered with your scratches from clawing at him. He was pounding into you at a speed that was making it harder to form any thoughts. How could you, when you were having your guts rearranged by the man you’ve been in love with since you were a little girl? You felt his cock throbbing inside your walls, and you knew your climax was coming closer, as well as his.
“Fuck, I’m going to cum baby,” he breathed. He reached down and you felt his fingers playing with your clit, trying to get you to cum at the same time as you. Even if you tried your best to stay as quiet as possible, the sounds of the bed creaking were not going to fool anyone who was awake at this time. 
“Cum inside me, p-please,” you managed to say in between whines. He didn’t object, and you felt your insides become hot as his seed spread inside you, coating your walls. At the same time, you clamped around his cock as you came with him. You gripped tightly at his back, needing him as close to you as humanly possible. 
Heeseung stayed still as he waited for you to calm down, running his hands up and down your waist to help warm you and stop your shaking. He pressed his forehead against yours. It was just you and him in this world, breathing slowly to each other’s rhythm. 
He knew you were exhausted, so he wasn’t about to bring it up now so as to not overwhelm you, but you were his now. You were now forever belonging to him. There is only one thing that will let him live a fulfilling life and it’s to keep you in his life, happy and protected.
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While you were sound asleep, you didn’t even notice your phone vibrating throughout your sound slumber.
LEE HOJUNG [09:27]: i’m guessing you’re still asleep but…seriously girl. i’m glad you’re moving on from that garbage bin of a human (please please please tell me u broke up with him) but did you seriously have to do it with my OWN BROTHER????
LEE HOJUNG [09:27]: i’ll kill him if he hurts you i hope you know that.
LEE HOJUNG [09:28]: are you guys together now or smth?
LEE HOJUNG [09:28]: he’s never allowed back here again don’t argue with me istfg
LEE HOJUNG [09:28]: UGH…YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING 🤮🤮 WAKE UP ALREADY SO I CAN BEAT YOUR ASSES 
KIM SUNOO [10:03]: Yeah…I’m not shocked in the slightest. 
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733 notes · View notes
traveler-at-heart · 8 days
Text
The Doctor's In - Part 3
Summary: Wanda gets a little jealous and you're in trooouublee.
Wanda Maximoff x F!R, Carol Danvers x F!R.
A/N: Part 1 & 2 are recent, so you can find them on my blog. Sorry I'm tired and lazy to link them. Will do that later lol.
Coffee in an IV, that’s what you need. However, drinking it is the next best thing so you get one from the cafeteria and give the other cup to Darcy, who’s yawning in one of the stretchers that people leave in the hallway.
“Bless you”
You hum in acknowledgment, sitting next to her.
“Duty or booty?” she asks when your phone pings.
“Ha, good one. You should do stand up” you say, ignoring her.
“So, it is a booty call” Darcy insists when you begin typing, a smile on your face.
“It’s not. My neighbour was telling me something about her children. You remember them, the Maximoffs”
“The broken arm?” you nod, sipping from your cup. “Ok, so now you text her about her children? To get into her pants?”
“No! Not everything is about sex, Darcy”
“If you really think about it, it kinda is. And you still haven’t told me why she’s texting you”
“I took care of the twins the other day, when she went out on a blind date. With a man” you give her a pointed look. “And I showed them a videogame I loved when I was kid, and apparently helped to create a new obsession”
“Which one? Lara Croft?”
“Spyro”
“The purple dragon? You are such a dork” she says, scrunching up her face. You roll your eyes, ready to give her the middle finger when her pager goes off.
“Karma” you cough up and she glares.
“This conversation is not over!” she threatens, leaving you alone.
You look at the chat with Wanda.
Wanda: They both want to be Spyro for Halloween!
Y/N: Sounds cute! They could have a little Sparks floating around on their shoulder.
Wanda: It’s all they talk about every day, I swear I’m dreaming about dragons.
Y/N: Sorry?
Y/N: I do have a plan to make it up to you.
You’re done with the coffee, at least if you want to get some rest. Still, you pick up a latte and a scone for Wanda, and carry the new videogame as you knock on the woman’s door.
“Oh, hi!” she looks at you, confused.
“Hey. Sorry, I don’t know how you take your coffee. It’s a latte, dairy free” you hand over the cup and the scone. “And I have something for the twins”
“That’s so sweet, but they’re at school”
“Today’s not Saturday?” you say, confused. Wanda giggles at that, making you blush.
“Today is Tuesday. Come on in”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’m sorry” you say, following her to the kitchen.
“I don’t have to be at work for another hour, so it’s fine” she assures you. “Plus you saved me a trip to the coffee shop”
“You know, I’ve never asked about what you do for a living” you say apologetically, only now realising that you’ve barely interacted with Wanda since you moved here.
“I’m an author and illustrator” she says.
“That’s so cool! Anything I’ve read?”
“Only if you like children’s books” the woman smiles.
“Can’t say that I have read any lately. But that’s awesome. I’m a little starstruck, I’ve never met a writer before”
Wanda laughs at that, and you blush a little.
“Oh, before I forget. Maybe this will distract them from dragons” you hand over the new videogame and Wanda arches an eyebrow.
“The solution to a videogame is another videogame?” she says with her mom voice.
“Uh… yes? It’s Crash. It’s really funny. Sorry, it was dumb, forget it” you begin to regret it, reaching for the box, but Wanda does the same thing, her hand landing on yours.
“I’m kidding. It’s very sweet of you, Y/N”
The way she says your name is almost hypnotic, and once again your eyes travel to her lips.
For the first time, you’re willing to admit that it wasn’t the alcohol that made you wanna kiss Wanda.
Still, your hands are touching and you want to lean forward.
Your phone interrupts the moment, and you apologize, thinking it might be from the hospital.
Carol: I’m outside your house :)
What?
“Work?” Wanda says when you frown.
“I’m not sure… I should get home. Sorry”
“I’ll walk you out. If you want to come by for dinner and show the boys the new game, you’re more than welcomed” she offers.
“Yeah, that sounds like fun. I’ll text you later” you promise, waving the woman goodbye.
Carol is leaning against her motorcycle, and she does a double take when you walk out of the house across the street.
“Did I get the wrong house?”
“No” you laugh. “I was at my neighbour’s, I got something for her kids”
“That’s very thoughtful” Carol holds your hand, and you try not to blush at the sudden contact.
“So, what’s up?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to come to my place tonight. I’ll cook something nice, we’ll have a lot of sex and you won’t have to hold back those pretty moans of yours”
“Such a romantic, Danvers” you roll your eyes, but smile nonetheless. “I’m in”
“Alright. See you tonight” Carol says, kissing you. That’s another thing that takes you by surprise, and you don’t know what’s gotten into her.
Walking inside your home, you open the fridge and it doesn’t hit you until you see Billy’s drawing.
You told Wanda you’d be there for dinner.
Crap.
It feels cheap to cancel over what is esentially a -very tempting- booty call, but you’re also aware that you might be thinking too much of yourself. The truth is, Wanda probably doesn’t give a crap about whether or not her workaholic neighbour comes to dinner.
A few hours later, when you’re still thinking of a way to politely reschedule, you get a text from Wanda.
Wanda: I forgot we had a thing with friends from school. Maybe some other time?
Y/N: Yeah, no worries!
You try to ignore the disappointment you feel over not seeing Wanda again, focusing on the night ahead.
Here were the facts:
Wanda dated men, obviously.
Darcy would kick your ass if she even suspected you had a crush on your straight neighbour.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s what is happening.
“I hope you like parmesan chicken” Carol says, as you look around her apartment. The decoration is very modern and you admire the collection of books she has. You’re more of an online article person, but right now you’re reconsidering your stance.
“Smells great” you comment, opening the bottle of white wine you brought. You hop on her kitchen counter, watching as she finishes the food.
“So, what did your neighbours say about that thing you got them?”
“I don’t know, they were at school, but maybe I’ll stop by tomorrow”
Or maybe not, considering you’re developing a crush on their beautiful mother.
“I didn’t know you liked kids so much” she comments and you shrug your shoulders.
“I mean, I’m ok with kids, but these two are really sweet and nice. One of them was at the hospital recently, he broke his arm”
“Really? And how come I didn’t hear of it?” Carol raises her eyebrows, always on top of everything that happens at her department.
“Relax, Ortho Goddess. I drove them there and took care of everything, your intern just helped with the cast” you take a sip of your wine. “I don’t even know if you were at the hospital”
“So, no dad?”
You shrug your shoulders, a bit impatient. You were hoping to push Wanda out of your mind, and Carol kept on bringing her up.
“I’m not sure what happened, if there’s a father in the picture or not… but enough about this. How’s the grant application?”
“It’s hell. But I’m glad Kamala is so committed, I’d go nuts without her”
“Must be nice, to have an intern like that” you say, thinking about the rotation of doctors you get. They’re helpful, but none of them stay long enough to understand the logistics of an ER.
“No more chat about work” Carol proclaims and you laugh.
“Oh, what else can we talk about?“
“You’re right. Maybe we shouldn’t talk at all”  she pretends to think about it, standing between your legs. Your laugh is cut off by her lips on yours, moving impatiently until you let her explore your mouth with her tongue.
“Food’s gonna get cold”
“We’ll heat it up” Carol says, pulling your legs around her waist and carrying you across the apartment. “Let me show you the bedroom”
“We’re skipping the rest of the tour?”
“No, we’re definitely having sex in the shower” Carol says, making you laugh.
As her kissing becomes frantic, and you lose yourself in the feeling of skin against skin, for a brief moment, you forget those green eyes and auburn hair.
The rest of the week goes by in a blur. An accident in the highway keeps you locked in the hospital for 48 hours straight, and all you can manage is sleep and shower between surgeries.
You get to be for eight hours at home before returning for a day and a half shift. The only thing in your mind as you finally get in the car is working out, because you’ve seen horrible situations for the past four days and need to be so exhausted that you’ll pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow.
You go out in a sports bra and shorts, hoping the exercise helps with all the stress. After a good thirty minutes, you return home, sweating and panting.
You turn to the garden hose to pour some water on your face and neck, when you hear someone cursing and something falling.
“You ok?” you run to Wanda, trying to get her garbage can back up.
“Yeah, thanks” she says, looking anywhere but you. “Busy lately?”
“God, you have no idea” you sigh, crossing your arms. “Heard about that crash in the highway? We had like twelve people come in”
“That’s horrible” Wanda says, finally looking at you.
“It’s the job I guess. How are you? And the twins? Did they like the game?”
“Oh, they actually haven’t had…”
You hear a motorcycle pulling up and have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. What’s Carol’s game? The blonde eyes you, and you want to smack that smug grin off her face.
“Sorry, you were saying” you ignore her, turning back to Wanda.
“It’s not important, I have to get back and make dinner” she says, saying goodbye as fast as possible. You turn back home, feeling dejected.
“Was I interrupting?” Carol asks.
“Is that supposed to mean something?”
“I don’t think you notice the way she’s looking at you, Y/N” she insists as you both step inside your house.
“Wanda? Don’t be ridiculous, she’s just my neighbour”
Your perfect, funny, beautiful neighbour who has her life together and no time to entertain a workaholic like you.
“And last time I checked, we weren’t exclusive” you add.
“Why are you trying to pick a fight with me?” she smiles, cornering you against the wall.
“Because, I don’t know what’s up with you, having me over and then showing up out of the blue. It’s very… couple-y”
“Is that so?” she leans forward, her lips barely touching yours.
“Y-yes”
“Maybe I just had a bad week, and I know for a fact you did too. So we can take a bath together, have some pizza and then fuck each other’s brains out”
This time, her lips do actually meet yours and inspite of everything, you give into the kiss.
“Unless you wanna invite your neighbour over to join us, which I’m definitely not against”
“Ugh, you’re such an ass” you break apart, rolling your eyes and going upstairs, laughing with Carol as she follows you eagerly.
They’ll have to move. That’s the only way to escape.
Wanda closes the door, leaning against it, hoping that the image of you, walking in those sinful clothes disappears from her mind.
Of course she had to make a fool of herself, dropping the garbage and attracting your attention.
If only she had gone out earlier, Wanda could have saved herself the trouble of witnessing that mysterious woman, who was very obviously your girlfriend, looking at you like you were an entire meal.
What if she moves in with you? What if Wanda has to see you everyday, kissing the blonde goodbye or hanging around or…?
“Mom” Tommy calls for her, and she has to pull herself together.
“Yes, sweetheart” she forces a smile, looking at her son.
“What are we having for dinner?”
“Well, I was thinking some mac and cheese”
And then, she’ll drown her sorrows in a bottle of cheap wine. Hopefully she’ll dream of you, sweaty and having your way with Wanda.
There’s an unfamiliar weight as you wake up, and as you turn, you look at Carol’s disheveled state.
“Blanket thief” you accuse.
“Shhh”
“Gotta pee”
“No, five more minutes” she pleads, nuzzling against your neck.
“What? Too tired after last night?” you taunt, remembering how she seemed to be insatiable and only stopped when you were too sensitive.
“Well, yeah. I rocked your world. Where’s my reward?”
“I can offer you coffee and scrambled eggs”
“Your fridge was empty, remember?”
“Oh. In that case, coffee and breakfast somewhere nice”
“Deal” she kisses your shoulder, moving to get her clothes.
“I can’t believe we have to be back in three hours” you complain, stretching. The sheet falls, leaving your entire body in full display.
“Maybe we can have something else for breakfast” Carol says, pulling you back down.
After another hour, you finally go down the stairs. You’re arguing over taking her motorcycle or your car when you hear voices outside.
Billy and Tommy are looking curiously at the motorcycle, touching the handle.
“Hey, kiddos” you greet, and they turn around, scared at being caught.
“Wanna get on it?” Carol offers and they nod excitedly.
Carol is busy showing them how it works when the front door opens, Wanda calling for the twins.
“You know you can’t leave the house like that. I am so sorry” she turns to you, but Carol is the one who answers.
“It’s no problem, really”
Wanda gives the blonde a tight smile.
“Come on, let’s get back inside”
“Oh, how long has he had the cast?” Carol says.
“Like a year” Billy says and you laugh, ruffling his hair.
“3 weeks?” you turn to Wanda.
“It’s actually 4. I meant to ask you when is he supposed to get it off”
“Come by the hospital and we’ll take a look. Children’s bones heal faster” Carol says, and it’s very obvious now that she’s inserting herself in the conversation so Wanda acknowledges she’s with you.
“Sure. I’ll text Y/N later”
“Great. I’ll make time to personally check Billy, did I get it right?” Carol turns to the kid and he nods.
“Well, Y/N has been his doctor, so I don’t think that’s necessary” Wanda pushes back, crossing her arms. All you do is look between them.
“Oh, we can both check it out if it makes you more comfortable, after all I am the head of Orthopedic Surgery”
“I thought you didn’t date other surgeons” Wanda turns, and you can finally get a glimpse of how scary she must be when one of the twins disobbeys her. She’s smiling, but her eyes tell a different story.
“I… well…” you mumble like an idiot.
“Time to go, or we won’t eat breakfast. Come on, I’m starving after last night” Carol takes your hand, pulling you away from Wanda.
You’d rather be doing an enema on a patient than witnessing this weird tug-a-war they have going on.
“Come on, boys” Wanda takes them back home, and Carol waves innocently at her.
“Seriously?” you say, ripping out the extra helmet from her hands.
“What? I was just messing with her. Come on, princess. Hold on tight”
Carol revs the engine loudly, leaving your driveway with a smile on her face.
She has the better sense to drop the subject during breakfast, picking out a small diner close to the hospital.
On the other hand, you are unable to stop thinking about everything that happened and, against your better judgement, do something that you’ll clearly regret.
You tell Darcy.
“Wait, wait, wait!” she says, holding her sides. “Your situationship and the MILF next door were fighting over you?”
“It’s not funny” you say, resisting the urge to choke her with her stethoscope.
“It so is. Girl, you gotta pick a struggle”
“You’re useless” you complain.
“No, ok, hear me out” she takes a deep breath, wiping away the tears and looking at you. “So, on one hand, you have a thing with Danvers. Do you really think she got over Rambeau already?”
“Of course not! Which is why I was fine with it being just sex. She’s the one who started doing other weird, couple stuff”
You weren’t an idiot; Carol and Maria had been together for years, and engaged until Maria left to work with Doctors Without Borders. Thought you didn’t know why they split up, it was fairly obvious that they were too proud to talk it out, but they still loved each other.
“Exactly. So, let’s say you start seeing Danvers more seriously, and then Maria comes back. You’re…”
“Fucked” you nod along, starting to understand Darcy’s point.
“On the other hand, you have the hot mom. According to you, she dates men. We have no clue if the father of her children is dead, missing, crazy… Maybe he'll come back eventually”
“And I’m fucked again” you rub your eyes, frustrated. “All I wanted was a way to destress. This is the exact opposite”
“I guess you’re very charming” Darcy shrugs her shoulders, and you’re about to thank her when she adds. “Or stupid”
In spite of everything, her words hold some truth. As you see patients and take care of the ER, you think of a way to fix everything.
Then, your phone pings and dread invades you.
Wanda: We’re in the foyer.
Fuck it, you’ll make sure you get to them before Carol and send them home before they get into another weird ass argument.
You run to find the Maximoffs, taking Billy to get an X-Ray.
“It’s urgent” you tell the technician.
But Carol is three steps ahead of you, because she asked to be informed of any patients that came to get X-Rays over cast removals.
So, by the time you and Billy come back, Wanda and Tommy are in the room, while Carol confirms Billy’s arm is completely healed.
“Hey, thank you for getting that X-Ray” Carol says with a smile and you curse to yourself.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Come on, kiddo, let’s get your arm back” you bring him to the bed, where Kamala prepares to do the removal. Carol forgets her little feud with Wanda for a moment, reminding her resident how to do the procedure.
“Is that a saw?” Wanda says, pale.
“Yes, I know it looks scary but it’s perfectly safe, I promise” you say, holding on to her arm. She looks at you, nodding and you smile, letting your hand drop to her back, rubbing slowly to calm her down. Wanda leans into the touch, her shoulders relaxing.
It’s so easy, to reach out for her.
Carol doesn’t miss the contact, but keeps on observing as Kamala cuts the cast.
Billy moves his arm tentatively.
“It might be weird at first. Try to take it easy the first few days” you say and Billy nods, keeping the cast with all stickers and drawings from his friends.
“That’s pretty much it” Carol says, removing her gloves. “If you have any questions…”
“I’ll call Y/N. Thank you” Wanda cuts off.
“Mom, we should celebrate!” Billy says. “Can Y/N come over?”
“That would be fun…” you begin to say.
“Oh, sweetheart. Y/N is very busy” Wanda speaks over you. She’s not even looking your way and you hate to admit it, it kinda hurts.
“No more running down the stairs, buddy” you say, opening the door for them. The three walk out, Tommy and Billy waving goodbye.
Carol goes after you the minute you leave the room.
“What the hell was that?”
“Excuse me?”
“The touching and the love eyes” she insists.
“You’re the one that made it weird to begin with, Carol” you say, feeling a headache approaching.
“Well, yeah. We have this thing going on and you act like you’re in love with someone else”
“Now hold on” you stop in the middle of the hallway, pointing a finger to her chest. “You and I agreed it was just sex. We don’t talk about the massive elephant in the room because frankly, it’s none of my business. But be honest. If Maria came back right now, would you not to want to be with her?”
Carol takes a step back. This is the first time you’ve seen her speechless.
“I don’t know. Maybe. If she came back, I… she would come first. But that’s just hypothetical”
“No, it isn’t. Because she is right there, Carol”
You point behind her, watching as Maria Rambeau, former head of Pediatric Surgery is talking to Chief Fury.
Carol turns her head so fast you’re shocked she didn’t snap something.
The look of adoration, longing and sorrow in her eyes tells you everything you need to know.
“Go” you smile, squeezing her arm. “You should always go after what you want, Danvers”
She nods, still too shocked to move.
You’ll let them have their reunion in private and will use the rest of your shift to mope about Wanda.
“Go home” Fury says when you stick around long after your shift. “Sorry about Danvers”
“Sir, you knew?”
“I know everything” he shrugs his shoulders and you can’t help but smile.
Of course, Carol drove you here so you take a cab home, which is fine. You’re too tired and distracted to drive anyway.
Truth is, you’re not sad about Carol. The only thing you can think about is Wanda and how she left without so much as a look in your direction.
“This the place?” the driver says and you snap out of it, handing him the money and some extra. “Sweet, thanks. Have a good night”
“You too, man”
After a shower, and eating pizza leftovers, you’re still thinking about Wanda. As you sip from your beer, and look at the tv without paying attention, someone knocks at the door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Wanda”
You jump from the couch, spilling some of the beer on your pants.
“Sorry, if it’s a bad time I’ll come back later”
“No, wait” you run to the door, opening and looking ashamed. “I spilled beer on myself. I seem to do that a lot when you’re around”
“I should have texted, I’m sorry”
“No, you can come over whenever you want. Is everything ok, are you ok?”
“Well, no” she runs her hands through her hair, and starts ranting. “I came to apologize, I was so rude to you, and I have absolutely no right to be. You have been nothing but nice, helpful and kind and I… I was a total bitch”
“Hey, hey, stop it” you take her hand, pulling her inside. “Wanda, it’s fine, I get it. I’m not mad at you”
“You have every right to be” Wanda insists, and you can see she’s spiraling, so you pull her against you, hugging her.
“I’m here. Not going anywhere”, you say against her shoulder. You only let go when you feel Wanda’s breathing going back to normal. You take a step back, your hands dropping to her waist. “Want some pizza and beer?”
“Uh… that sounds good, yeah. Can we sit on your kitchen? That way I can look out the window, just in case the twins wake up”
“Yeah, come on” you take her hand, closing the door as she enters your place.
You stay silent as you warm a slice of pizza and get another beer for you, offering her a bottle.
“I don’t think I’ve drank beer since college” she says, smiling.
“Only fancy wine?” you joke, taking a seat next to her.
“Not even that these days. Listen… I really am sorry and though it may not seem like it, I’m happy for you and Doctor Danvers”
“Oh, that’s not a thing” you interrupt her.
“Was it something I did?” she says, looking mortified.
“No, it was just… uh, never serious. I think she might be fixing things with her ex so that’s the end” you explain, removing the label of your bottle.
“Are you ok?” Wanda reaches for your hand and you blush.
Yeah, I’m ok because you’re here now.
“I am, it wasn’t serious. Honestly, it was just sex”
“Oh” Wanda blushes, and removes her hand from yours, taking a large gulp of her beer.
“I mean, we all have needs, wouldn’t you agree?” you tease, leaning forward as if you’re telling her a secret.
“I suppose so, yeah” Wanda gets lost in your eyes, hoping you close the distance.
And you want to, you really do, but Wanda gave you a hard time and you might make her sweat a little before giving in.
So, you lean back on your chair, smiling mischeviously at the other woman.
“How’s Billy? Happy to be cast free?”
“Yeah, he’s excited about getting to play that dragon game you gave them from the start”
“I guess Crash wasn’t good enough to replace Spyro” you say, understanding the twins. You always had a soft spot for the latter.
“Actually… I didn’t give them the other game” Wanda admits, chewing her lip nervously.
“Why?”
“To be honest, I wanted you to give it to them so I could… I don’t know, have an excuse to see you again”
As Wanda admits her reasoning, red invades her cheeks. Your heart skips a beat at the sweet admission, and you stand up, walking to where she’s sitting.
“You don’t ever need an excuse to talk to me”
“No?” she says, fidgeting wih her bottle.
“You can text me, call me, fax me, page me. I’ll give you my email so you have that option as well” you say, making Wanda laugh.
“I just don’t know what to talk about sometimes, I get nervous”
“Well, we could talk about the weather, how inflation is crazy high… you could tell me about the Scarlet Witch”
“You looked up one of my books?” Wanda says, blushing.
“Yeah, I have it, ready to get an autograph from the author herself”
Wanda blushes even more at that, chewing on her bottom lip. You take another teeny, tiny step towards her, eyes going to her lips.
“Or, we could not talk. There’s plenty one can do without verbal communication. Like bird watching”
“Crossword puzzles” Wanda jokes, following along.
“Kissing” you say, leaning forward until you’re inches apart. You let her decide if she wants to close the distance, and Wanda does, her lips tentatively moving against yours.
She tastes like vanilla and you sigh against her mouth, pulling her close to you.
It’s everything you imagined and more, her pretty sighs spurring you on until your hands go down her sides, and to her waist.
At the movement, Wanda breaks the kiss, making you whine.
“Is this… do you want this to be just sex?”
“You deserve more than that”
Yes, the thought of Wanda naked, moaning your name make you weak in the knees, but you also want to bring her coffee and have lunch together.
“So, does that mean…?”
“Go out on a date with me” you blurt out, trying to catch your breath.
“Yes” she nods, pulling you in for another kiss. This time, you’re not so sure you’ll be able to resist the urge of worshipping her body right in the middle of your kitchen, for all the nighbourhood to watch. “I should go”
“You only just got here” you complain, kissing down her neck.
“And if I stay, you won’t get your beauty sleep”
“Sleep is overrated” you mumble, biting down her neck playfully.
“Ok!” she holds back a moan, jumping as if your touch burns her.
“Did I hurt you?” you say, worried.
“No, it wasn’t pain that I felt” Wanda admits, turning red.
“I’ll behave” you raise your hands and Wanda steps back, not sure that she believes you. “How about next Thursday?”
“That can work, yeah. Let me just check with the nanny”
She walks to the door, lips slightly swollen.
“Sounds good. I’ll see you before that, though”
“Right, because I live across the street”
“And I might need to borrow some sugar” you joke, leaning forward to open the door, trapping Wanda’s body. “Or other stuff”
“I should go”
“You sure?”
“Yes” the woman nods, biting down her lip. Still, she pecks your lips one last time, and takes advantage of how flustered you get to walk out the door.
“Text me when you’re home” you joke, making her giggle. Still, you don’t get inside until she opens her own door, waving at you one last time.
You take your phone, reading a lenghty text from Carol saying she was really sorry about everything. And then another one comes in.
Wanda: I’m home.
Y/N: Come back.
Wanda: I wish.
Wanda: Night, Y/N
Y/N: Night, Wands.
434 notes · View notes
maplesyrupsainz · 3 months
Text
˖⁺。˚⋆˙written in the stars | DR3˖⁺。˚⋆˙
pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem y/n reader (she/her)
genre: social media au
warnings: age gap!!
summary: in which you both meet after break ups and mend each other, or in which the world focuses on the wrong things about your relationship
a/n: kind of an old request i never got round to but i fear i need to break up all the charles reqs with some daniel 🙏 hope u enjoy LOL
request!!!: can i req daniel ricciardo age gap fanfic pls plssss
my masterlist
fc: ruby lynn
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twitter ->
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by yourbff, friend2, and others
yourusername girl's night 🍕
view all comments
yourbff girl what happened last night 😂
yourusername u know im the last person you should be expecting to remember that
yourbff oh okay valid
friend1 so much fun
yourusername ilysm
friend2 single life suits you babe
yourusername 😀 dont remind me
friend3 miss u wish i could've made it
yourusername soon u lil busy body!!!
yoursister interesting coping mechanism
yourusername learned from the best
yoursister 🤨 who me or mom
yourusername ...both
messages ->
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/
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instagram ->
yourusername posted a story
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liked by yourbff, yoursister, and others
yourbff so is he hot
yourusername YES. SO HOT
yourbff YESSSSS I TOLD U SO
yoursister and this is?
yourusername just a friend 😇
danielricciardo posted a story
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liked by landonorris, f1gossip, and others
user1 helloooo???
user2 didnt u & heidi break up??
user3 is this heidi or a different girl
user4 i knew u & heidi didnt break up!!!
user5 so cute
landonorris and who is this?
danielricciardo 🤫
twitter ->
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messages ->
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instagram ->
yourusername posted a story
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, and others
yourbff HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
yoursister happy birthday my angel :)
friend1 haps baps gorgeous
friend2 hbd
friend3 cant wait to see u later!!!
danielricciardo happy birthday❤️
messages ->
txts between daniel & lando !!
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, yourbff, and others
yourusername it's my party i'll cry if i want to
view all comments
user14 omg??? @.user15 look at this
user15 wtf how did u find this
user14 i jus noticed lando AND charles both followed her recently
user16 yo we got a detective over here
user17 SHE'S 22 YRS OLD???
user18 wowwww so young happy birthday i guess
user19 daniel is dating a 22 yr old...?
user20 kind of weird no
yourbff the most gorgeous girl
yourusername i love u
friend1 WOWWW im in love with you
liked by yourusername
danielricciardo hope you had the best time ❤️
yourusername oh i did, tysm for coming!!
user21 what if they're just friends
user22 😂 yea righttttt
twitter ->
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instagram ->
f1gossip
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liked by user20, user3, yourbff, and others
f1gossip daniel ricciardo spotted with rumoured new partner 22 year old y/n y/l/n. the two have sparked controversy recently due to their large age gap.
tagged: danielricciardo, yourusername
view all comments
user31 oh so they are dating.....
user32 who even cares abt their age gap as long as they're happy!!!
user33 frrrr they're both adults soo?
user34 right and they obviously just met recently
user35 im jus glad to see daniel moving on from heidi
user36 i kind of love them together
user37 we should just leave them alone
user38 agree it's literally none of our business
user39 sooo cute he's whipped for her i fear
user40 i love them ... LOL
danielricciardo
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liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, and others
danielricciardo life's been a bit of a whirlwind 🌪️
view all comments
user41 omg sooo cute
user42 the candid pics of y/n omg he's obsessed
yourbff you cuties
liked by danielricciardo, yourusername
user43 awww he deserves to be happy tbh
user44 still not convinced on the age gap looool
user45 get over it...
landonorris ur new better half
danielricciardo shut up loser
yourusername yup🙂‍↕️ lando right for once
landonorris feels like ur bullying me but i'll take it
user46 maybe daniel is her sugar daddy
user47 wtf is wrong with you LOL
yourusername 😂😂😂😂😂😂
landonorris HAHAHAHA
danielricciardo hahahaha no way
maxverstappen1 sugar daddy daniel 🤨😨
yourusername 🩷🩷!!!!! my loveeee
danielricciardo 😍 you fixed my heart
yourusername and you mine🥹
user48 SOOO cute i love that they went thru break ups together
user49 they were meant to be
user59 written in the stars ✨
THE END 🩷
939 notes · View notes
boysmentfs · 2 months
Text
My new boyfriend.
Tommy was Olivia's bff, he was always there for her above all things, they considered themselves almost "sisters" since tommy was not a guy like the others, he was a Twink, brown hair, youthful face, 20 years old, very thin, just like a noodle and clearly homosexual.
Olivia was the typical dumb blonde girl, tall, busty, the same age as tommy and popular but despite all this she always had things going wrong in love, she had recently met a fraternity guy named "Jake" But as expected, their relationship didn't last long and they had broken up a few hours ago, so she sent Tommy a message, so he could comfort her like he always does.
"Sis... I have ended my relationship with Jake, I am devastated... He was the most handsome guy in the world, I can't believe it"
"bestie, why do your relationships always take so little time? I mean, you've dated really hot guys... Hehe, I don't understand why they break up with you, you're beautiful, sis"
"I don't know, Tommy.... I would love to have a boyfriend who actually loves me for a long time, who protects me, listens to me and all that stuff, like you do."
"It's a shame I like guys, bff, because if I didn't, you know I'd be with you, but don't worry, you'll get a nice handsome guy with an attitude like mine!"
"I hope it doesn't take too long for that guy to come into my life, hey baddie, thanks for listening to me <3, now I have to go to sleep, sweet dreams! xoxo"
After that last message, olivia went straight to her computer and looked for something on the black market that could help her with her plan, and that's how he found a pair of red shorts, a chain and some earrings, In the description it said that with those things the guy who will use them would become the most handsome and loving guy in the world, so olivia did not hesitate twice and clicked to buy it.
The next day, the package arrived at her house, but I didn't want it to be so obvious, so I took the things out of the box where they were and handed them another one with a wrapper full of teddy bears and hearts, olivia knew that Tommy, seeing this, would not hesitate to open it, so once she closed the box, she sent it to Tommy's house.
A few minutes had passed since Olivia had sent the box to Tommy's house, When the package arrived someone knocked on the door and left, Tommy went directly to the door and opened it, curious to see the package he picked it up from the floor and began to open it, Tommy, seeing what was inside the box, was surprised. He never ordered clothes online, maybe they went to the wrong house, so he closed the box again, waiting for the real owner to claim it.
Once he left the box on the table, he went straight to the shower, when he finished his shower he grabbed his shirt but something was missing... And that was his special pink shorts, he remembered that he had lent them to his best friend so he thought of a solution, so he remembered that in the package they had sent him there were some red shorts so he went for them, once he used them, he would wash them so that the real owner would not suspect.
He grabbed the red shorts and put them on, It was a beautiful warm and sunny day so he decided to watch some TV, while watching TV he started to feel strange and a little hot, Something in his mind told him no try on what was in the box, the chain and the earrings, so he went for them and put them on, once je had them on he went to a mirror and saw himself, he laughed because he looked like one of her friend's boyfriends, but thin and without any muscle. After he saw herself in the mirror, he returned to the couch to continue watching TV.
And without realizing it, his foot began to enlarge as it became fleshier, his toes lengthened as veins sprouted and some hair grew on them, now he had feet of size 15, large masculine, all their delicacy was gone, now they looked like the feet of an jock.
His legs began to hurt, because they began to thicken and muscle began to come out, now his thighs were big while his calves were worthy of a real man, some hair began to grow on them.
The next thing to change was his butt and his bag, His big butt began to shrink to a decent size worthy of an jock, it was big but not as big as before although it was defined a little more, her pouch, which she was proud of since it was small and delicate, began to grow to a size 15 and also thickened while pubic hair came out, it seemed that she never shaved, but that made him look more masculine.
His designer thong also began to undergo changes, it went from being a red thong to becoming blue designer boxers so that his manhood would be highlighted even more along with his toned butt.
His stomach, which was thin, began to hurt as abdominal after abdominal came out in Tommy's stomach, a v began to be marked on the lateral sides while he gained a beautiful pack of 8 very worked abs, his chest began to expand outwards as two large defined pecs bulged out, a tattoo began to appear on a pectoral, his torso began to lengthen as he became more masculine, his back also underwent changes, it went from being feminine and thin, to being masculine and wide, muscle also appeared there, giving him a very manly back and worthy of admiration.
hiss shirt began to tear due to his large muscles, that was where Tommy reacted and was surprised and ran towards the mirror.
"Omg! What happened to me? I am dreaming? "This must be a dream, yes... I must wake up."
But before Tommy slapped himself, his arms began to hurt as they began to stretch and muscle began to come out, his biceps were now the size of a ball, his triceps were well worked, his delicate hands began to thicken while his fingers lengthened can and they started to look calloused due to all the exercise he did at the gym, wait... Exercise? Gym? He didn't exerc- but before Tommy reacted, two tattoos began to appear on his two muscular arms and another tattoo on one of his biceps.
Tommy couldn't anymore, he was about to cry, so he got the idea to call Olivia, but before he could do that, his face started to hurt.
Tommy's face, which was young, delicate and feminine, began to change as his jaw became marked, giving him a more manly appearance, His lips that were too full from being an expert cocksucker became thinner but still looked kissable, his nose became big and cuter, his eyes that were green began to turn brown, his beautiful blonde hair began to recede as it began to turn black, at the end, his hair ended up with a cut that any jock could have, his face had become the most beautiful, any girl who saw him would die to be with him, Tommy looked in the mirror again, looking at his new appearance, he became somewhat horny, without a doubt his new appearance was his ideal type, all the blood flowed into his bag giving him an obvious erection.
Tommy put his hand in his bag and started moving his hand up and down. He started to think about how many cute guys he could fuck... But as he thought about guys his erection faded, His mind began to give him new memories as a new alpha aura took over him. He began to imagine himself fucking girls with big butts and tits. His erection returned, but Tommy knew this wasn't right... He was... Homo... Homosexual?, NO, he was straight and loved raising beautiful girls with his bag, As he continued to raise and lower his hand he couldn't hold back anymore and he came and with that all his memories, personality and Tommy faded away.
"Seriously, Olivia is lucky to have me as a boyfriend, I mean, who wouldn't want someone like me?" Max said to himself as he flexed one of his arms in the mirror.
Tommy was now Max, Olivia's boyfriend, quarterback of the football team, leader of his fraternity, he loved parties, alcohol, exercising and having fun, max hated homosexuals, he said they could never be real men like him and his "bros."
After pulling up his pants he received a message from his girlfriend Olivia, Olivia knew that Tommy at this point had ceased to exist so she wanted to test out her new boyfriend.
"Hi love! I miss you... I would like to have you here with me, I want you to make me yours... come to my house <3"
"Well, today I'm free princess, to hell with today's training, I prefer to be with my beautiful girl, so you don't miss me so much while i arrived at your house, I'll send you a photo of me, princess ;)"
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Olivia was happy with her new boyfriend, he was affectionate and listened to her all day, just like she wanted.
464 notes · View notes
drdemonprince · 1 year
Text
I routinely forget that periods exist, and its only been like two years since I stopped having them.
The whole concept of them and all the planning and the contingencies involved are just, swoosh, out of my mind. im only reminded that periods are a thing every couple of months or so when one friend or another is in pain and brings the subject up. a friend asked me about how my periods were recently and i was shocked not that she believed i still had them, but that i had ever been a person who'd had them at all.
Multiple friends of mine have gotten hysterectomies this past year, some after long waiting periods, and its got me remembering that my high school debate coach told me getting one was the single best decision of her life. Ive wondered to myself a few times what all the advantages of it are, beyond the obvious prevention of pregnancy piece, and it honestly took me months of thinkkng to remember that oh, oh yeah, right, some people have periods and some periods really hurt and for some people that is probably a factor.
periods are such a non issue for me i forget about what a massive toll they can take on many other peoples lives. and im only a month post op from top surgery, but i can tell its gonna be the same thing w having tits. im gonna forget how much pain and hassle and work it all was.
and I share this because it shows just how mutable human beings are, and how changeable privilege is.
if i can forget about the existence of a bothersome and dysphoric experience i had every month for decades within a matter of two years -- so much so that i forget other people still have to deal with periods -- then someone who grew up poor but now is rich cant ever be trusted to remember what poverty is like. an adult cant be trusted to remember the fear and powerlessness of being a kid. and a trans man can very much be oblivious to sexism and to the lived experience of being a woman, no matter his prior experience, because that is what privilege does to you once youve got it. it clouds over all the worries you no longer have to think about, separating your perspective from that of all the people that do still have to.
and idk, i think thats important for people to remember. no matter what youve lived in the past, if you get a little money, a little privilege, a little power, it changes you, and it makes you stop worrying about many things, and it makes you oblivious.
3K notes · View notes
nnight-dances · 1 year
Text
REPETITION / RARE LOVE
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pairings: kim mingyu x fem!reader (ft. yoon jeonghan)
genre: fluff, angst, suggestive & sexual content
tropes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (except mingyu's the only idiot), pining, flirting
warnings: explicit language, banter, alcohol consumption, borderline jeonghan slander but it's okay because i would die for the man, has been proofread by me once but only barely. kazuha (le sserafim) is your roommate, huh yunjin is present.
WHAT TO EXPECT
it's simple enough: you and mingyu are perfect for each other. you've told him as much but after years of him avoiding the topic, you leave him alone. but when your long-time infatuation with jeonghan gets rejected, you have nothing to distract you from your desire to be with mingyu. all it takes is you making out with the wrong person and a can of beer for mingyu to come to his senses. (about 11k)
OR: maybe you don't hate repetition as much as you claim to.
SEQUEL OUT NOW!
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“why are men on tinder actually vile?” you question out loud, not quite expecting an answer as your eyes continue to read the offensive opener you’d received from a recent match. mingyu, who’s crouched on the desk across from you, frowns.
“y/n, we’re meant to be studying,” he points out, “but also i thought you were over tinder?”
you look at him blankly, “i am! i just gotta finish what i started you know…”
mingyu looks deeply disappointed in you and you slide your phone across to him, “look at this message i just got! it’s disgusting! i don’t need to know if someone’s wet at the thought of—”
“god, y/n, do you have to scream?” he asks as he takes hold of your phone, busying his fingers probably with blocking the guy. you momentarily look back at your screen where the black document meant to be the outline for your final art history paper taunts you.
you sigh, looking down at your phone when mingyu returns it. “i paused your account and deleted the app.” you sigh yet again, “man! if you were gonna uninstall it without my permission you should’ve just deleted my account.”
“you’d just make another one anyway,” he shrugs, “plus, this way when you go back you’ll remember why you left in the first place.”
you grumble something under your breath but resume your attempts at writing. mingyu smiles a little as he goes back to his own work. a beat passes before, he puts his pen down again and when he sees you’re staring at your screen distantly, he asks, “did you talk to jeonghan yet?”
you gasp at the mention of your years-old crush, glancing around you as if you weren’t in a private study room (because apparently the only way either of you could get anything done was while talking to each other). “what?” mingyu continues, “one of us had to address the elephant in the room.”
“wow, you’re just the worst friend ever, aren’t you? it’s like you can’t read rooms at all. i clearly did not want to talk about jeonghan.”
“well, now you are. so you might as well be honest with me. did you think about confessing to him?”
you deflate, stomach suddenly uneasy, “no. i don’t think i will. i don’t need him to know.”
“you kinda do. y/n, look at me,” mingyu knocks on the wood to demand your attention, “it’s the only way you’ll ever have an answer.”
“i don't want an answer.”
“…”
"because i'm going to move on from him!"
"..."
“okay, well, i’m starting to! just watch me, okay? i have the agency to not be completely consumed by my very shallow attraction to a very attractive and impressive man.”
“right. you just used attractive twice in a sentence— and no, i don’t care if it wasn’t the same form of the word, you absolutely hate redundant things. and yet, you refuse to recognize the way out of this pattern of yours.”
“you are so tiring, mingyu, you know that? exhausting, even. i don’t want to do this anymore.” you shake your head at him, suddenly invigorated to finish this damn preliminary proposal of yours.
yunjin cackles as she plops down across from you in the dining hall, finding you scrolling ever so dedicatedly on pinterest. “what’s this?”
you look up at her with a pout, “i need a dress for hoshi’s little party. it’s in two weeks and i have zero options.”
“fuck, i knew i was forgetting something,” she grimaces in her typical huh yunjin way and shifts closer, “i need to find something for that too. can’t just wear a corset and call it day since he’s labelling it a formal and whatnot.”
“he really is the worst,” you agree, pausing to muse over a pretty white dress with red roses all over it. “hmm, what about this one?”
yunjin tilts her head and nods as she looks between you and the dress, probably imagining you in it. then, you sigh, “it’s just i don’t think red is my color like that.”
you’re about to elaborate when you hear a gasp from behind you, “that is simply not true!” you don’t have time to react when a figure slides in next to you. goddamnit, it’s jeonghan, you realize, trying hard to keep it together when his shoulder comes to sit next to yours. “you absolutely fucking rock the color red.”
“i do?” is all you can muster as yunjin chokes out a badly covered laugh. you glare at her, “what’s funny, jen?”
“hah, nothing, i agree with jeonghan, you’d look lovely in red.”
you frown, unconvinced as you scroll some more, feeling dizzy from jeonghan’s presence.
“preparing for hoshi’s party i presume?” jeonghan asks and you nod. “i’m so stressed, i have nothing and it’s approaching so fast.”
“you have time though,” he reassures but you’re quick to protest, “i’m not going to have any time next week because we’re organizing that night flea market. i’ll be running around campus so i need to take a trip this week.” the beauty of going to a college with an isolated campus: peace and you gotta plan every time you leave campus because there’s a singular bus that takes you to the city. it’d be a whole day trip for you if not for mingyu, who thankfully has a car that he can drive.
“ahh, tell me when you’re going into the city, y/n,” yunjin pats you, “i gotta go too.”
you nod and then remember, “right of course, i just remembered kazuha saying she wanted to come too.”
“nice,” yunjin approves, “we need all the opinions we can get. did you get mingyu to agree to drive you yet?”
“i texted him earlier but he hasn’t replied, which is slightly concerning because he may not know how to spell but he does write back very fast.”
jeonghan chuckles, “mind if i join you guys too?”
you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, “you wanna come shopping with us?”
he nods, that sweet smile of his plastered across his face, “yeah, i could use a new formal outfit. i’m tired of wearing the same black suit to everything.” he nudges your side, “plus, you guys could help me out. i can never decide on anything all alone.”
“maybe i should just not go,” you groan with your head in your hands. mingyu rolls his eyes, slapping your back, “why would not go? if your problem’s with jeonghan, he should be the one to stay back. not you.”
you sit back up, staring at the eggs in your plate. beside you, mingyu chugs his glass of orange juice, and you lean against him. “god, i hate him so much. do you wanna go see if the playground’s free?”
“right now?” mingyu looks at the time. it’s 11 am on saturday, still an hour from the time everyone agreed to meet in front of mingyu’s car, which is conveniently parked right across from the playground. as if following your line of thought, he grins, “alright. but you finish your food first.”
you sigh, “okay, mom, i will.”
five minutes later find you racing mingyu for the best swing in the playground— months of visiting the place had taught you the first swing was the only one that didn’t creak too loud and experienced the least amount of bumps during the ride. mingyu’s fast but you’re stubborn so you reach out for his arm midway, sticking your nails into the skin, knowing how dramatic he is about these things.
he gasps, “DO NOT CLAW ME.” strong as he might be, he slows down to rip your grip off. you seize the opportunity, getting a headstart and laugh when you reach the swing before him, sitting down firmly before mingyu can pull you away.
“that’s cheating, y/n, you know it!”
“hey, you’re the one that has an advantage. you go to the gym like eight times a week. i go like thrice a month.”
“sounds like someone’s lazy and whiny to me.”
you smile, “someone lazy wouldn’t win that race. and you’re the one that’s whining,” you point to his stance, his arms at his hips like an affronted toddler. he loosens his body with a pout as he walks over to the second swing. “whatever.”
time passes a little too fast for you two when you’re fighting like this because kazuha’s running over to you, breathless. “y/n! what are you guys doing?”
“zuha, hi! did you—”
“yep, i got your lip gloss.”
you chuckle, throwing your arms around her, “why are you the best roommate ever?”
mingyu scoffs, “what about you being the worst roommate ever?”
kazuha laughs, too nice to agree with him, “hey, that’s not true.” you hit him in the side, “you’re just jealous that you’re in a single. i guess money really does make people lonely.”
“i’d go for a double even if i was that rich,” jeonghan’s voice pops up from beside you. he sure has a knack for appearing out of thin air. “i couldn’t handle being alone.”
“not everyone can love themselves as much as i do,” mingyu shrugs, smugly as crosses his arms. “i’m self-sufficient like that.”
“if you guys are done, we should start moving,” comes yunjin’s voice from near mingyu’s car, “it’s already fifteen past 12.”
“i call shotgun!” yunjin shouts and you’re quick to fight back, “no way, i already called it.”
“if i didn’t hear it, then it doesn’t count,” she teases, leaning against the passenger side. you glare at mingyu, “i called it in front of mingyu! the driver is the one that counts.”
mingyu laughs at the petty fight, “y/n did call it earlier this morning.”
“that’s not fair! mingyu’s obviously going to take y/n’s side, you guys spend every breathing minute together. the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”
you smirk, “don’t be a sore loser, huh yunjin, you can call it when we’re coming back. if you remember to.”
“i hate you,” she mutters as everyone settles into the car.
“i’m open to music requests, dear friends,” you announce once you’ve started off. “but i reserve the right to reject any tasteless songs.”
“isn’t this the textbook example of a tyranny?” jeonghan breathes and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, “hey, the power comes with the seat. it’s natural selection.”
mingyu groans through laughter, “you know you don’t make any sense. just play some music.”
you roll your eyes, “he says as he laughs his fat ass off.”
“she’s just salty my ass is fatter than hers,” he mutters under his breath. the three in the backseat break into laughs at that, all at your expense as you gape at them. such betrayal.
“i don’t know why i call you friends. you’re monsters.”
kazuha pipes in, “y/n, are you calling your sweet roommate a monster right now?”
jeonghan is quick to join in, “honestly, i’d say kazuha is the nicest friend among us here.”
“fine, everyone but zuha’s out to get me right now.” the screaming continues for a little bit longer until yunjin and kazuha tire themselves out and pass out. you chuckle when you look at them, yunjin’s head bobs in the middle of the three until it hits kazuha’s shoulder, whose head then rests on top.
swiftly, you pull out your phone camera and capture the moment, sure to tease them later. as you’re clicking the photos, jeonghan’s face sticks into the corner with a sneaky grin and you shift the angle to include him. enjoying the attention, he shoots the camera a peace sign, followed by a little heart, and then a cheek heart and now he’s a bunny and then—
you pull yourself away abruptly with a shaky laugh, “god, jeonghan, this isn’t a photoshoot.”
he laughs back, “ha ha, sorry, i can’t help myself. it’s so fun to tease you like this.”
you feel the blood rush to your face at that, so you turn to face the road completely, a weak, “fuck off” on your tongue. mingyu silently observes the interaction, not without a little side-eye that you don’t know what to think of. “you should get some rest, y/n, you didn’t sleep last night.”
you frown, surprised mingyu knows that and you don’t get to ask him why he knows that because jeonghan interrupts, “you guys sure are close. i was talking to hoshi the other day, he misses y’all a lot.”
“he does? he can just come talk to us whenever though,” mingyu replies, doubt tracing his tone. “i don’t think we’re exclusive like that.”
“right?” you agree, “we used to be so close to hoshi, too, and then he moved to the other side of campus this semester and now i have like one class with him.”
“i don’t know,” jeonghan says, “you should talk to him about it, but there’s always been something stronger about the two of you together.”
you shrug, “we always end up together. it’s not that deep i think. it’s just how it is.”
the topic ends there as jeonghan agrees and dozes off himself too. you, however, feel eerily awake. awake? no, more like unsettled. something in your nerves is off and you feel on edge. you’re a little spaced out after that, as you finally reach the city circle with all the shops crowded next to each other with a little mall in the center.
as everyone gets off and gathers their things, mingyu pulls you aside with a concerned look, “are you okay, y/n?” his grip on your elbow grounds you a little. you inhale, knowing better than to pretend in front of him, “yeah, just a little uneasy. i don’t know why. probably just tired.”
mingyu looks like he knows something more about your condition, “are you sure? we can take a break at one of the restaurants before shopping if you want?”
“nah, i’m okay, don’t worry. i’m a strong girl,” you smile, reasurring him with a pat to his chest, “i feel better now. thanks, mingyu.”
he frowns, hand loosening against your skin, “you never thank me, weirdo. don’t be so formal.”
“man, there’s no winning with you, is there?”
he chuckles as he pulls you after the others, “no, i’m insatiable.”
an hour into shopping, you realize why you hate doing this. everything is so overwhelming when you’re in the city, so many people, so many clothes. at least you have friends with you as you scan racks after racks, ending up with three potential dresses on your arm. you mutter a prayer in your head that you can find something nice here so you don’t have to walk more. this is already your third store.
the first one is a classic: a little black dress. it’s satin so it sits smooth against your skin and feels soft when you twirl around. it’s a little short for your liking, perhaps too tight against your ass. you turn to the side to get a better look. you take a photo and send it to mingyu, who you’d been going back and forth with. he’d last sent you a photo ten minutes ago: him in a stupid minion onesie. you’d cursed him out real well in response telling him to stop fucking around. he writes back fast.
big gyu: u look good
big gyu: kinda basic tho
you: yea i thought so too
you agree with that, putting the dress aside in case you don’t find anything else at all.
candidate number two is more over the top: a long red dress with little black patterns on it, with a leg slit on one side. getting into it was a whole struggle but you get it on finally. it fits well thanks to the slit which also shows off some skin. you’re hot in it: like literally. the long sleeves don’t help at all. but you look good too, the flare doing wonders for your figure. you pause, sending a photo hoping mingyu would be of help.
however, when mingyu takes longer than a minute to reply, you groan, already sweating a little. concluding that he’s probably changing or something, you peek out your curtain, hoping yunjin was still in the stall next to yours. you call out her name, straining your neck to see if there was anyone else you could ask for help.
you spot jeonghan walking around the shelves near the fitting rooms and before you can hesitate to call him over, he notices your head poking out. he raises an eyebrow, sending your heartbeat into a spiral. “y/n? do you need help?”
you clear your throat, “um, yeah, i need a second opinion on this dress.” jeonghan approaches your corner and you panic when he reaches for the curtain to draw it back. his eyes question you, “can i look?” you let go of it to let him in, a tiny little rational part of you wondering he needed to come inside the room to see.
“ohhh,” he exclaims as he takes you in, “you look amazing. told ya red was your color.”
you turn away from him a little, “this dress is hot.”
“it sure is,” he agrees and you blush harder, “no i meant, like literally. i’m so hot right now.”
jeonghan presses his lips together, giving away the fact that he understands but being the little bitch he is, he chooses the option that makes you wanna combust. he presses two fingers to your cheek and mumbles, “yeah, you are.”
you push his arm off, “yoon jeonghan! you’re such a damn flirt! get out of here.” you force him out of your space and he’s uncontrollably laughing as he lets you. “i’ve another dress to try so wait outside for me.”
“sure you don’t need a hand changing—”
“no, thank you very much!” you scream, greeted with more pleased chuckling. your phone buzzes, catching your attention. you lean down to look at it.
big gyu: niceee thats hot
big gyu: u should get this dress
big gyu: pls
big gyu: pls
you: …girl why are u begging me
big gyu: because.
big gyu: you’re getting this dress right
you: no i’d die of overheating in it
big gyu: and it’d be worht it
you: i dont like how enthusiastic u are about this...
you: wtv this one's rejected.
you: i still have another dress to try
you put your phone down to try the final dress. this one was a purple slip dress with white flower detailing. it was skin tight against your boobs and a little transparent, giving away your black bra underneath. and to contrast, it sat a little loose on your hips which was honestly not the worst look, keeping from the dress becoming too scandalous. you enjoyed this dress the most so far. that was enough, given the track record.
“you done, y/n?” you’re startled when the voice outside is mingyu’s instead of jeonghan. you pull back the curtains in confusion, “gyu? what’re you doing here?” mingyu stops short, “fuck, i like this one.” you flush a little when you notice his eyes settle on your chest for a beat too long. “that’s stunning, for real.”
you laugh. “look at you using big words. but yeah, i think this is the one.” you look over at him, “did jeonghan leave?”
“um, yeah, he said he had to use the washroom when i ran into him on the way,” he mumbles. you nod, a little relieved because you think you’d die if he saw you right now. “anyway, i’m offended you were showing him your dresses and then all i got was a photo.”
“hey, you were taking so long to reply that i had seek someone else out. he just happened to be her.”
mingyu ignores that and tells you to hurry up, “i need your help choosing something for myself.”
“ugh, alright, give me five.”
in the end, you decided you’d get both the classic black dress and the slip dress, you needed more dresses in general. wouldn’t hurt to have more. when you’re done checking out, you find mingyu in conversation with kazuha who’s smiling with a shopping bag in her hands.
“zuha, you get anything?” you ask. she nods eagerly, “yeah! i got this pink dress that jeonghan helped me find just now. it’s really pretty, i’ll show you later in the room.”
you falter a little at that, glancing at mingyu who’d told you he went to the washroom. ignoring the growing unsettling gut feeling, you inform her you’d found something too. “nice, we should have a try-on in the room later.”
“you guys!!” yunjin joins the group, “this is insane. i hit the jackpot and found the sexiest green dress ever.” you laugh, linking arms with her, “you should come over later and try it on with us.”
“ah, the beauty of womanhood,” mingyu grumbles beside you, and you shove him. “you’re not invited, pervert.”
his jaw falls open, “excuse me? what did you just call me?”
you press an index finger into his bicep, “don’t think i didn’t notice you checking my boobs out earlier.” mingyu’s cheek redden at the light-hearted accusation, worsening when jeonghan appears right at the climax of the argument.
“okay, okay, first of all, i wasn’t checking anything out!” he complains, “and-and well, they—”
jeonghan cuts him off, patting his back with an amused smirk, “it’s alright, buddy, it happens to the best of us.” everyone laughs at that, much to mingyu’s chagrin who then becomes pouty for the rest of the walk to the next shop.
“c’mon,” you pull him into the store, “my turn to stare at your tits.”
“god, would you drop it?” he groans as he follows you in. “it won’t happen again.”
you giggle, “it’s okay with me, gyu, because that just means the girls look good.”
he groans again, “i really don’t need to be a part of this.” he wanders off into the store, embarrassed. you let him go, looking at clothes for him separately. turns out shopping for mingyu is harder than the concept of it sounds. it doesn’t help that he’s an expert at criticizing the small detail in every item you choose for him. half an hour later, you’re tired of him.
as if on cue, kazuha calls you to tell you to come over to an asian restaurant nearby to grab lunch. you thank the lords as you pull mingyu away, “there’s nothing here for me anyway,” he grumbles as you meet up with the rest.
entering the restaurant, you spot kazuha and jeonghan at a table nearby. yunjin’s still on her way it turns out as you sit across from them, heart in throat for the worst reason possible: you’re jealous. you may be down bad for jeonghan but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to take a hint. trying to keep the thought from completely forming in your head, you make conversation with everyone, wanting to be better than this.
you want to avoid thinking about it so you’re quick to shut jeonghan off. he’s his usual self, joking around with everyone but he picks up when you’re not as receptive as usual. you hope he just thinks nothing of it, but you know that’s not possible when he approaches you after lunch as everyone else is washing up in the bathroom.
you’re outside alone, waiting, when he slightly pushes your shoulder to draw your attention. you gasp lightly. “jeonghan?”
“can i talk to you for a sec?”
you frown, “yeah, you’re talking to me right now.”
“come on, y/n, don’t be cold. let’s go for a walk.”
“but, the others—”
“i let mingyu know we’ll be back in a few.”
out of excuses, you silently follow jeonghan’s stride through the busy street. he makes conversation really well, easing you up in no time as he distracts you from what was on your mind. it’s illegal how smoothly he then proceeds to drop the act.
you’re laughing about what he’d said about hoshi’s drinking habits just now, when he suddenly goes serious, “i think i like kazuha.”
you freeze up at that, fighting the frown that itches closer, looking at him like you didn’t hear him. heart’s out of control right now, but at least you were already expecting this outcome. “huh?”
“sorry, i just thought you should know. i’m really into her and i was planning to ask her out sometime this week.”
you would love to pass away right now. immediately, you think you hate jeonghan for doing this to you. it’s clear from his behavior that he knows you like him and that he’s apologizing— he’s rejecting you before you have a chance to confess. he likes kazuha. he’s going to ask her out. you should know that.
you sputter awkwardly, “that’s great! good for you, jeonghan. and um, you really didn’t have to tell me. i’m sure kazuha would love to be with you.”
you never want to speak a word to anyone ever again and you're sweating ever so profusely, so you speed up a little, “and we should get going, no?”
sensing your mood, jeonghan follows along but says, “i’m sorry, y/n. i- i know you…”
you don’t let him finish because it would genuinely kill you to hear him say he knows you like him. “you don’t have to be sorry.” with that, you essentially leave your body. you move fast enough to reach the car, wordlessly getting into the passenger seat and yunjin somehow knows better than to fight you.
the car ride back is filled with music. not much chatter. you realize it’s partly your fault and silently dread being back in the room with kazuha, but to your relief, when you reach she doesn’t bring anything up. you’re too tired to do a try-on like you promised and when mingyu asks if you want to come over to his place, you tell him you’re feeling sleepy. and for once, you actually sleep after telling him that.
sleep is not as much of a comfort as you’d hope for it to be: less of an escape, more jeonghan-themed content. something about heartbreak and living the rest of your life, lovelessly.
the next week starts off hectic and you’re thankful for it this once. you could use the chaos of organizing an event to take your mind off things. a small part of you wonders if jeonghan was being merciful by letting you down and timing it so well. knowing him, that doesn’t seem so impossible.
you feel better than you’d imagined you would. you cried like once since the rejection. you didn’t need to worry much at this point, having realizing that it was less important that you’d made it out to be. mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t give up his worrying, especially when he doesn’t see you until three days into the week. and that, too, because he gave up and thought it would be a good idea to invade your room, at one in the night.
his knocking wakes you up fairly quickly, since you’d only put your phone down a few minutes ago. you rush to the door, afraid of waking kazuha up. “what the fuck, mingyu?” you ask at the sight of him.
“what the fuck yourself! stop ignoring my messages maybe?”
you groan, stepping outside your room, feeling the cold air hit you in your night clothes. “why’d you have to confront me so late at night? can we do this tomorrow? when i’m coherent and not half-naked?”
mingyu falter as if he just realized the time, noticing your tank top and shorts. “i don’t care. i’ll give you my jacket but we’re doing this right here and right now.”
you sigh, knowing this was coming. “forget it, keep your jacket. i’ll go change and be right back.”
mingyu grabs your arm when you try to go back inside, “how do i know you’re not just gonna leave me here to die?”
“dude, my room’s right here. you can come watch me change if you fucking want.”
he lets you go, flustered when you offer and you laugh as you rush back in. in the darkness, kazuha’s voice startles you, “y/n? is everything okay? are you being abducted?”
“oh god, zuha, you scared me. and no, it’s just stupid little mingyu who wants to have a talk. i’ll settle this. go back to sleep.”
she groans, “god, you guys are just like my parents sometimes.”
you laugh at that as you slip into a hoodie and exchange your shorts for pajamas. when you return, mingyu’s sitting at the stairs in front of your room and you hit him in the back.
“ouch! fuck you!” he stands up with a glare, “also i heard what you said about me. why am i stupid and little? can you just choose one insult?"
“let’s go down if we’re gonna argue. zuha can hear us, too. and did you hear what she said after that?” when he seems clueless, you go on, “she said we remind her of her parents sometimes.”
he coughs, “her parents?? what are we, married?”
you roll your eyes, “married and sick of each other, apparently.”
“being zuha’s parents doesn’t sound so bad honestly. she’d be the easiest child to raise.”
“i feel like zuha would raise you if you were her father,” you laugh, “me too, probably.”
“who’d be the father then?”
your smile falls when an answer occurs to you, you mumble, “jeonghan,” sitting at a bench outside your dorm. mingyu joins you, equally solemn now.
“did something happen between you two?”
“yeah. he rejected me when we went shopping that day.”
mingyu’s eyes widen, “what? you confessed?”
you shake your head, a strained smile, “he already knew. i guess i was obvious, but it’s still driving me insane that he rejected me without even giving me a chance to confess.”
“i can’t believe he did that. that’s conceited as fuck.”
“conceited or impressive, i can’t decide. but he told me likes kazuha and that he’s sorry. i genuinely wanted to die when he said that. he was cool about breaking my heart, too. lowkey fell a little harder for him.” you laugh at your own joke, but mingyu looks unhappy, jaw clenched like he’d tasted something bitter.
you hit his arm, “it’s not a big deal, dude. i was thinking about it the past few days and i realized i barely knew the guy. i just knew what he told me over the last year.”
after a pause, “and he’s one beautiful man, so there was that.” you smile a little.
“but he didn’t have to do it like that. he could just stop flirting with you, you know, or wait for you to come around and confess like a normal person,” mingyu says, “he’s such a little jerk.”
“hey, it’s okay, a little flirting didn’t hurt anyone.”
“yeah but he was leading you on, leaving you in ambiguity by doing that. he should’ve been flirting with kazuha, not you.”
“okay, now that’s starting to hurt,” you whine, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, “but i can’t really blame him, no? kazuha’s so precious.”
“don’t be like that, y/n.”
“what? be like what?” you look up, “didn’t you also used to be into kazuha?”
mingyu bites his lip when you bring his years-old crush up, “when will you forget about that? that was so long ago and it was barely serious. she’s too nice to be my type.” (what does that even mean? you wonder but don't have the time to ask.)
“sure, you didn’t want to change residence halls to be closer to her?”
“alright, how many times do i tell you that i did that because of you? why do you never believe me?”
“it just makes more sense the other way,” you mumble, suddenly feeling teary-eyed and hating that you were feeling teary-eyed, which only intensified the teariness in your eyes. “god, this is stupid.”
mingyu’s arm is around in no time when he notices you curling up, your lip tucked between your lips in anticipation, “hey, hey, c'mon, i thought you said it wasn't a big deal. so how come you're crying?"
“because! i feel lame. and because kazuha’s perfect, by the way. she’d probably cry too if she knew i was crying.”
he pulls you closer, “you’re not lame, y/n. you think i’d keep you around so long if i didn’t think you were insanely cool?”
you breathe through your tears, “you just keep me around because i’m insane?”
“insanely cool! open your ears, idiot.”
“you just called me an idiot. idiots are pretty lame.”
he sighs when he feels his tshirt get damper, your body so weak under his hold. he pats your hair softly, “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but seriously, y/n, you know i’m bad at saying this stuff but i seriously cannot stress enough how highly i think of you.” his hand moves to rub your back, “and you’re so much more than perfect, you know? like sometimes you don’t do a paper till three hours before and still get an A. and then, you come up with comebacks to my arguments in your own unique ways, and trust me, nobody can argue with me like you do.”
you pull away, “all right, now you’re embarrassing me. why do i sound like a bossy nerd or something?”
“you can be that at times. hey, but you forgot the part where you’re hot as shit. and also pretty.”
“i feel like that last part was an afterthought, mingyu,” you bite back a laugh, “you really only keep me around for my tits, don’t you?”
“dude, can you let me wholesome for once? i’m trying to console you, so would you stop playing devil’s advocate?”
“sorry, i’m just,” you hesitate with a heavy sigh and then, you blurt out, "i’m scared i’ll never fall in love. i’ll never find it at all.”
“now that’s some stupid thoughts you’re having,” mingyu shakes you by the shoulders, “you’ve just been blinded by your crush on jeonghan for so long that you haven’t explored anyone else at all.”
“are you volunteering to be my crush right now?” you ask, jokingly.
mingyu’s smirk catches you off-guard, “what if i am? it wouldn’t be the worst thing if i was your boyfriend.”
you feel yourself heating up a little for some reason, head in a daze from his earlier shower of compliments and now this. so instead of trying to make sense of it all, you press yourself into him in a hug. “yeah, it wouldn’t.”
“hoshi, you little shit!” you throw yourself around the guy when you spot him on the night of the flea market, the product of a long and actually insane week. he laughs when he realizes it’s you, pulling you into a hug, “bro, y/n, why is this my first time seeing in you in literal years?”
“i don’t know, i just kinda see you walking around sometimes. maybe if you actually showed up to econ class, i’d see you more.”
hoshi flinches, “you can’t be bringing econ up right now. that class is kicking my ass. i can’t keep showing up to that kind of humiliation.”
the two of you catch up at last, as people swarm around the different stalls set up along the college street. you were relieved after having finished this damn event. cheers to sleep, right?
hoshi tells you all about his new situationship with a guy in another class and how he’s regretting inviting him to the party tomorrow night. “why? believe it or not, people are more fun when drunk.”
hoshi rolls his eyes, “yeah, well, i couldn’t get any more fun. so instead i become incontrollable. an absolute animal.”
“right, i remember that. so you’re scared you’re gonna drive him off? i wouldn’t worry honestly. and if you want, i can keep you in check.”
he narrows his eyes in distrust, “you? you’re not much better than me drunk, okay? i feel bad for mingyu who’s gonna have to take care of you the whole time.”
you gasp, “wow, you’re taking mingyu’s side now? over mine? i thought we had something special.”
“you thought wrong,” comes mingyu out of nowhere, slinging his arm around hoshi’s shoulders.
“why are you here suddenly?” hoshi looks between the two of you, “i couldn’t not come to an event my lovely y/n herself planned, could i?”
hoshi laughs, “nice to see you two as jolly as ever. but also i must take your leave. i gotta go grab dinner soon.”
“hey, why don’t you come with us? we were gonna check out the new outlet the college opened.”
“oh, i would love to but i have plans with someone already.”
you nod your head in realization, “right of course, have fun. not too much, though. leave some for tomorrow.” he leaves with a full-toothed smile and you face mingyu.
he playfully pinches your cheek, “you confront him about missing us yet?”
you raise a shoulder in response, and as the flea market starts to fizzle out thanks to the darkening sky, your stomach grumbles. “let’s eat, please.”
ever since that night— you don’t want to say anything had changed between you and mingyu because your friendship had been long enough that even the slightest shift in dynamics would harmoniously just become the new status quo; the two of you had been through a lot together. but ever since that night, you’d been fooling around with him more, if that was possible.
it was along the lines of: less banter, more flirting? although one might argue that the former was just a derivative of the other. but semantics aside, this is what you know to be true: friends flirt with each other all the damn time.
that’s what you’re telling yourself when mingyu asks you to feed him some of the fried rice you’d gotten on your plate. and it was true: you’re almost a 100% certain that you’d flirted with every friend of yours, and that was just how it worked.
but intimacy came differently to everyone and mingyu’s just manifested in clinginess. he was pressed to your side for the entirety of dinner, and you couldn’t complain about the proximity. it was welcome, even, this form of friendship.
“you’re thinking too hard.” mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your little reflection session. “what’re you even thinking about? you should be all burnt out from all the work you did this past week.”
“i am,” you affirm, “but some things just don’t let up.”
he chuckles, patting your head affectionately as if to persuade your thoughts to let up for a while. it doesn’t help really, only gravitating the direction of the said thoughts toward kim mingyu even more.
“maybe repetition isn’t as bad as i always make it out to be,” you say, chin propped up against your fist on the table. mingyu had chosen a corner table of the newly opened eatery, next to a low window that glowed behind you in the remains of sunset as he shifted to completely face you. the sun had finally set. again.
“you’re right. routine is good for people.”
“but it doesn’t have to stay the same forever, you know?”
“hm?” mingyu can’t help but feel like you’re edging toward some underlying topic. you were like this since he could remember: you’d start off with some abstract and vaguely relevant concept (that had no doubt been plaguing you for a long time) and slowly circle around till he caught onto what you meant. you love playing games with him.
“repetition doesn't have to be redundant? i think there's something more subtle about it.”
he doesn’t know where you’re going with this, “but repetition is literally the same thing over and over?”
“yeah, but the ‘same thing’ itself can evolve,” your fingers knock against his, “i don’t know, i was just thinking about… us.”
“us? i guess we would be a good example of repetition.”
your gaze falls from his to find your hand instead, your fingers wrapping around his wrist until you’ve forced his palm open. his hand in your lap upside down, you pull at the fingers, “yeah, but we’ve changed a lot. for one, we fight a lot less. sometimes when i’m going to tell you a thought, you understand mid-sentence what i mean.”
“yeah, well, that’s what we get for knowing each that long. but really, what’s this about, y/n?” he captures your hand in his expertly, pulling your attention back to his face.
“do you ever think we should be more?”
mingyu breathes a laugh at that, a shiver running down his spine when he spots the solemn look on your face. and then, his smile turns grave. “y/n, we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?”
“have we? every time i’m the one who brings it up and you kinda just shrug it off. no, don’t even try to argue with me. you shrug the serious stuff off. always.”
it’s true, mingyu admits in defeat, mind racing as he considers why you’re bringing this up now. the answer is easy: you were finally available. but he doesn’t say it out loud, like he never does. you’d confronted him about the state of your friendship before, unafraid to wonder out loud what it would be like if you started dating. you’ve received all forms of shut-downs from mingyu before so you figured you were the only one in an ambiguous place about your feelings for him.
if someone was to ask if you like mingyu, you’d probably say yes, but it’s more than that. you know better than to blindly fall for him. witnessing him in his relationships before, you know he can be ruthlessly cold to his partner once he’s out of love. you practice romantic love for mingyu: carefully because too much would definitely be dangerous.
“i have my reasons, y/n.” there it is. the strict mingyu. the rigidity in setting his boundaries was something you admired and aspired for when he exhibited it in the past. right now, you want to punch him.
you’re without a filter with him so it’s unfair when he treats you like this. you let him know as much: “i want to punch you right now. i’ve hidden nothing from you, and yet, there’s this wall you keep yourself behind. is this really one-sided?”
mingyu doesn’t know what to do with you right now, “y/n, why are you—”
“no, because it's not like i can't take a hint. so one minute you're flirting with me and then, you push me away like right now,” you point to his estranged fingers, “but then you act like nothing happened and go right back to being all intimate and touchy.”
“i just…” mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t see the reason for labels. why do we have force ourselves into a restriction like that? we’ve always been above conforming.”
it’s your turn to sigh heavy enough your head hits the wall behind you. wasn’t this just his way of friend-zoning you back into silence? you’ve always been too embarrassed to push him this far because you don’t mean to hurt him. but you feel as though you’ve hurt yourself long enough now.
“so why’d you say that the other night? that it would be nice if you were my boyfriend?”
this leaves him speechless for a few beats and you continue, “that was just because i was heartbroken from jeonghan? you’re playing prince charming for me so i can go back to being your trusty little best friend?”
“y/n, you know that’s not true. i’m not playing anything in your life. i’m just being myself.”
you scoff, “you really are so fucking—”
“why are we actually fighting right now?” mingyu asks through an incredulous laugh, “this is actually so petty, dude, let’s stop. you know i love you, right?”
mingyu’s last resort makes its presence: a non-committal i love you. because at the end of the day, you’re still best friends. what was a little ‘i love you’ in today’s economy? nothing. especially when you’d hear him throw the phrase around all the time.
you stand up in defeat, “fine, let’s stop. you win.” you gesture for him to move to the side and he does so reluctantly when you glare at him like you’re genuinely mad. (you are.)
he follows you out the door, catching your elbow to slow you down. “don’t be like this. i know you’re mad at me.”
“i’m not mad. i'm tired and i just want to go back to my room,” you seethe, walking faster than him. he grabs hold of your shoulder turning you around.
“if you’re gonna storm off, at least go the right way.” you huff softly and let him steer you the right way to your dorm, hands still on you. you spend the way to the front of your room silently, waiting for mingyu to say something but he just does what he does best: take care of you.
as you reach the door of your room, he pauses, apologetic smile on display. “listen, let’s talk more tomorrow? get some sleep.” he reaches for your hair, tenderly running his fingers through the locks. there it is: the soft mingyu, his eyes wide as he stares you down for signs of stress.
his warm arm pressed againsts yours, you realize you don’t want him to just leave. you know the drill: tomorrow morning, he’ll text you to meet for lunch and everything will go back to being unsaid. maybe he’ll bring along seungcheol so you don’t bring anything up again. either way, it’ll be so natural you’ll think nothing ever happened. but you want something to happen.
so your hand settles around his bicep to hold on and partly to keep him in place. you lean in, “let me do one last thing and if you want to stop, i’m never bringing this up again. i promise.”
you don’t give mingyu a moment to react to your words and instead raise yourself up to his level, other hand on his chest, and press your lips to his. you kiss mingyu after the thirteen years that you’ve known him and the ten that you’ve wanted to. you counted the years just as you count the seconds that it takes for him to come to his senses and pull himself away.
he looks less upset than you imagined: more dazed. like he can’t believe what you’ve done. he looks at you with his lips parted and you have to tear your gaze apart, lest you should tear yourself apart with longing.
“y/n, i…” he looks away and that’s enough evidence you need. you step away from him, your easy smile back in its place, not before you pat his arm as it falls from you.
“it's okay. i understand. let’s be friends, mingyu,” you declare suddenly, catching him off-guard. you'd pulled all the stops and if he genuinely was uncomfortable with pushing the line between platonic and romantic, you would respect that.
he begins to say something but you don’t want to hear him speak, at least not right now when the sound of blood rushing to your head is the loudest it's ever been, and you certainly don’t want to falter again. you’ve decided. “good night."
mingyu should feel relieved. he really should be happy that you’re back to normal around him, friendly and playful like you’ve always been. he should count his blessings that you’ve accepted the status of your relationship with him as it is. but as he falls asleep that night, all that comes to his mind is the smile you’d sported as you asked to be friends.
it was all wrong: your lips against his, that was something of his dreams, not a reality he has to be escaping from. it replays in his head, your scent that he’d caught a whiff of now and then, whenever you’d wrap your arms around him. the heat of your skin he’d rationalize as the comforting presence of a friend for days later.
he’ll soon come to know how insanely stupid he’s being right now but until you knock some sense into him, he simply plays along with a sting he hides pretty well. he should, he’s been doing it for years now.
it’s the night of hoshi’s party already and he’s walking over to the location of the pregame, alone because according to a text fifteen minutes ago, you’re still not ready. you’d invited yunjin and some other friends to your and kazuha’s abode to apparently make the process easier, but if mingyu knows anything about the group, you’ve probably spent more time selecting the right song to play than get ready.
the door to dino and hoshi’s shared residence is already open as he strolls in, finding a group already on the floor, taking shots. he makes eye contact with jeonghan who beckons him closer and mingyu takes a seat next to him.
space is scarce so mingyu finds his arm pressed uncomfortably close to jeonghan’s, who oohs at mingyu’s fit, “ooh, you look positively sexy.”
mingyu grimaces, “do you have to put it like that?” he does look … positively sexy, mingyu admits, in the navy blue shirt he wore but— and here’s the punchline— with the buttons undone all the way to right above his navel.
“where’s y/n, by the way?” jeonghan asks, an eye at the entrance as he slides a shot glass toward mingyu. the question irks mingyu for obvious reasons and he keeps him waiting for a minute, waiting to down the liquid in glass (vodka unfortunately for his throat) to answer him. “um, she’s still getting ready. any minute now.”
“ha, that means she’ll be another ten. that’s a shame, i was hoping to pour her first shot.” jeonghan shrugs resentfully.
maybe the alcohol’s working faster since it’s been a while for mingyu, but his mouth runs faster than his head, “why’d you care? i thought you asked kazuha out a while ago.”
jeonghan raises a brow at that, “hmm. i did. but things did not work out so well. what with kazuha feeling guilty about y/n and… well, i also…”
“feel guilty?” mingyu asks, voice strained. he’s annoyed at having to listen to jeonghan’s side of the story. he could not care less about humanizing him and whatnot. he’s watched you suffer for far too long to be empathetic right now.
“yeah. and i thought i might like y/n, too, after all.” jeonghan says it so casually as if discussing his performance in a particularly challenging college course, not his feelings for a person who he’d recently rejected.
the word might pierces mingyu’s ears. the uncertainty behind it is in such stark contrast to his own… feelings toward you that he genuinely feels his breath heat up.
or maybe that’s just jeonghan when he leans over to refill his glass. “drink up, buddy.” mingyu’s just about ready to make a scene right now, shoving jeonghan’s hand off his back but suddenly jeonghan’s standing up, making his way to—
you. you’re here.
almost as soon as he catches sight of you, he looks away, pretending to give the vodka in his hand all the attention in the world, as he puts his lips to it and empties it. head is now light. that’s probably enough for now, he decides as he puts his glass down.
when he looks back up, you’re at the kitchen counter with yunjin and kazuha.. and jeonghan, who’s grinning as he hands out the bottles of fireball to the group, no doubt marketing it so convincingly that you’d think you came up with the idea yourself.
mingyu shoots to his feet, regretting it when his vision darkens but he pushes past, eyes focused on your figure— god, he forgot how hot you look in that dress. he tries to keep his thoughts in check as he approaches you, but it doesn’t help that your makeup’s even more meticulous than usual, eyes glittering and lips delightfully glossy.
he breaks into the space between you and jeonghan, arm against yours, catching your attention.
“my guy!!” you exclaim when you see him and then your eyes trail down to his chest and then back up to his face where his hair sits parted with the help of some gel. “you look like a slut. i love it.”
mingyu laughs, subjecting you to a similar once-over, “you’re one to talk.” your hair’s back in a bun of sorts, a rare occurrence because you seem to prefer have it around your face. he can’t help but pause at your exposed collarbones, the gold shadow you applied there earlier doing wonders to his already dazed headspace.
“is it already that part of the night where mingyu starts hitting on everyone?” yunjin complains, reserving the alternate version of her question (something along the lines of how impolitely he’d been eye-fucking you in front of everyone) for some other time as she nudges you to open the fireball in your hands.
you do so, looking at jeonghan who offers one to mingyu, which he refuses as he leans against the counter, hand silently at your back just in case. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, quietly enough only for the two of you, just in case he wasn’t comfortable sharing.
“nah, i just had two shots of vodka back there. trying not to mix for the sake of me tomorrow,” he mutters, patting your back encouragingly, “but let me know if you need help finishing that.”
jeonghan eyes mingyu on the side as the trio clink their bottles together and get to downing them. later, as things start picking up and more people make their way into the party, mingyu finds your arm. “do you want me to stay close by?” he frames the question in a way that you have an out, because he can tell that you’re still unhappy with him.
but you’re tipsy when your hand interlocks into his, “only if you’re going to dance like you mean it.”
the night goes better than you expect it to, especially since mingyu’s let loose for once. or perhaps… he’s always this carefree when drunk, palms kneading at your waist, keeping you close to his chest, which you try your best to not get too used to touching. he sure knows how to keep you on your toes (sometimes literally) even when wasted because you’re trying not to get too close. for you own sake.
that is until hoshi shows up beside you two, pulling you apart as he introduces you to a friend.. or a partner? you can’t hear in this state and just as you try to lean in closer to hear what he’s saying, you feel a presence at your shoulder, fingers poking you.
you turn to find jeonghan behind you, sloppy smile on his face as he screams something at you. you frown, asking him to repeat himself, hand on his bicep to steady yourself against the movement of the party.
“need to talk to you about something!” his words come at you, clearer. “right now?” you shout back, “what the fuck is it?” your body doesn’t want to stop moving so you groove against his side, and momentarily catching a glimpse mingyu’s heavy gaze on you. you almost completely stop then but jeonghan’s pulling you away, after him to a relatively emptier zone of the house.
you’re breathless, you realize, now that the spell of the music’s been broken. you rest against the damp wall behind you, uncaring as you look around for a liquid to quench your thirst. cunning as ever, jeonghan’s already handing you a plastic cup with a transparent liquid.
you narrow your eyes at him despite how wasted you are. “what’s this?”
he laughs, “i’m glad you’re vigilant as ever. this is water. cold. drink up.”
you comply, your throat throbbing ever so lesser after you’re done and you sigh in relief. “you might have broken my heart but you’re still an angel, jeonghan.”
“ahhh,” he exclaims joining your side against the wall. you frown when you take note of his fingers clasped together, almost fidgeting. yoon jeonghan, fidgety? that’s a first for you.
“actually, that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”
when mingyu looks away from hoshi and his company to see if you were listening and when he finds out that you’re in fact in jeonghan’s embrace, he’s suddenly sober. and when your eyes find his for a moment, something in them changes and he calls out your name like a warning. but then jeonghan’s already leading you elsewhere.
mingyu wants to follow after you immediately but he realizes hoshi’s still talking to him. “hoshi, bro, can i find you in a while? i gotta make sure y/n’s okay.”
but hoshi stops him in his tracks, hand on his chest, “wait. please tell me you told her…?” he trails off uncertainly as mingyu catches on what he’s saying.
“i haven’t,” he admits, eyes still searching the crowd for you, “but i think it’s time that i do. only so much i can take.”
“that’s the spirit, man! okay, now go kiss y/n for me.” hoshi pushes mingyu with a start, not before the the latter shoots the man a glare and takes off in his search for you.
you’re still in that corner with jeonghan, who’s done narrating the past week’s revelations to you, all about his failed attempts with kazuha and his slow understanding of his real feelings about you. you’re far more unaffected that either of you was expecting, arms crossing in thought.
but then you say, “well, that’s fucking stupid. because i’ve realized i wasn’t as down bad for you as i once thought i was.” jeonghan’s smile falls a little with a disappointed sigh. “but,” you continue, “you know what i’m still curious about?”
when your hand creeps up jeonghan’s shoulder, he thinks he knows where you’re going with this. “i’ve wanted know if you’re really as good at kissing as everyone makes you out to be.” jeonghan’s already moving closer to you, enveloping your face in his hands, and his devilish grin’s spills out as his lips find your ear. “let’s find out?”
and that’s how mingyu finds you wrapped around jeonghan, making out like this was your last day living. and for a moment, he considers giving up and letting you have this. he even stops in his tracks in the crowd, his thoughts so easily drowned out by the music if he just lets go.
but his mind’s reeling when the sight of you kissing someone else just pushes him back a day ago when you were leaning up into him, soft breaths risking your lips against his and the way your body pressed into his just right. his feet move without a thought, then, shouldering through the bodies around the two in the corner.
you’re just pulling away from jeonghan to start to say something about how that wasn’t too bad when his body is lifted away from yours with an unannounced jerk. you gasp and then once again when mingyu’s face comes floating in front of yours.
“mingyu,” you breathe, unsteady from the series of events this past minute, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“what the fuck are you doing?!” he screams in your face, hands on both arms to keep you from moving. jeonghan’s walking to your side and you want to say something to apologize but you’re far too infuriated with the man in front of you to think.
“i don’t know! trying to get laid? finding happiness? love?!” you scream back with as much force. you call out jeonghan’s name, “i’m sorry. mingyu’s too drunk to—”
“jeonghan,” warns mingyu when the guy tries to break you free from his embrace, “can i have a minute with y/n.” it isn't a question.
jeonghan has the nerve to say, “maybe not. i wouldn’t leave you alone with her in this state.”
“oh, she’ll be just fine,” he replies and jeonghan simply looks at you for confirmation. but you’re still looking at mingyu, starting to tear up, head throbbing all at once. you stop fighting against his grip and mumble in defeat, “whatever.”
“if you’re going to lecture me about being bad, i don’t really want to hear it.” you’re back next to the kitchen counters with mingyu beside you. slowly, you sit yourself up on the surface, feeling exhausted. “i’ve heard it before.”
“no, that’s not what i’m doing. i just want you to stop and think clearly—”
you groan when you hear the beginnings of a typical you’ll regret this in the morning type talk, you slide off the counter and to your delight, you run into a guy holding up a can of beer for the taking. you’re quick to jump at it, grabbing it up from him and pulling the tab of the can open. just as you put the beer to your lips, ready to chug it, you feel it being pulled away, the next few moments occuring before you can comprehend anything.
suddenly you’re sitting back on the counter and your dress rides up when you feel mingyu push himself in between your legs. at first, you see his face close on yours and then the taste of beer meets your throat. no, it’s not just beer— it’s mingyu. his tongue spills onto yours, beer mixing with saliva and when you try to pull away, his hand at your neck tightens. you sit up straight and you feel his watch digging into your spine.
your head spins when you can finally breathe, inhaling only to cough out. heart in your throat, you look at mingyu in disbelief, “what the fuck!” but he’s already taking another sip of the beer and some of it slides down your throat into your dress, when his mouth finds yours again.
you’re weak in his arms, and the heat between your legs is only so rational. so you find yourself giving in and kissing him back when the liquid runs out, nails finding his scalp, earning you a deep groan that vibrates against your chest. that’s when he pulls away again, eyes finally meeting yours with an unprecedented intensity.
he leans in again, wet kiss against your cheek, followed by a grunted whisper of, “i love you so fucking much, y/n. it’s so hard to watch you run around with other men.”
you want to think you’re hearing things but mingyu doesn’t let you, another kiss right in the nape of your neck that sends shudders down your back. “i want to be yours so fucking bad. want to spoil you like you deserve.”
you swallow against the moan that rises in your throat, to pull mingyu’s face back to your eye-level, “then why aren’t you mine? why’d you push me away?” your voice breaks, betraying the pretense of indifference you try to prop up. his eyes soften, fingers brushing against your forehead.
his lips quiver and he sighs defeatedly. it’s a miracle you can hear him with all that noise around you. but you hear him clear as day against your hair when he finally says, “i’m scared. of loving you too much, of being too much. and i’m scared of losing you.”
mingyu’s imagined telling you these exact words before and how you’d react to them infinite times before but when you giggle into his collarbone, he pulls away with a blank look. your forehead is against his all over again and for the second time night you say, “that’s fucking stupid! if you were going to lose me, it would’ve happened a while ago.”
of all the things he’d imagine you saying in response, this was the simplest option, so unlike your usual overthinking self. maybe it’s the alcohol and adrenaline in your system speaking but mingyu somehow feels comforted, because maybe it really is that simple. it would’ve happened if it was going to. or maybe mingyu’s too drunk to make sense of it all right now.
so his lips are moving against yours once again, without warning, your breath all his when his arms tighten once against around you. you’re laugh grounds him enough to break away. you open your mouth to complain about the distance when mingyu’s back against your skin.
“shut the fuck up,” he groans, the command making you hotter than you’d like to admit. your legs close around his ass, pulling him closer and his hand slips across your boobs. the friction of his palm against the tight fabric of your dress makes you let out an undignified moan into mingyu.
that’s when he knows he needs to take you to somewhere more private for reasons more than one. you’re too lightheaded to move yourself so mingyu’s carrying out the house without a word anyone you two came with. it’s only when the cold air hits you that you realize you’re outside.
you struggle against mingyu until you're back on your feet and stop. “where are we going? i’m— do i know you, mister guy?” for a second, mingyu’s heart sinks when he wonders if you thought you were just making out with a stranger. then, you say, “i need to go back and find mingyu. gotta kiss him.”
ignoring the blush that colors his face, he grabs hold of your elbow, “i am mingyu, idiot. and we’re going to my room.” you shake your head to clear your vision, eyes widening when you recognize him. your hand finds his face with a light laugh, “ah! it’s my big guy.” the name doesn’t help mingyu’s condition at all, so he’s pulling you after him faster than before.
back at the party, kazuha starts panic when she realizes she’s lost hold of you, unable to locate you anywhere within the party. she tugs at yunjin’s sleeve who looks over in concern, “what happened to y/n? i can’t find her anywhere.” yunjin laughs at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “don’t worry about her. i saw her and mingyu leave together earlier. she’s probably in heaven by now, if i’m right.”
“hmm?” kazuha pauses as a thought pops up into her head, “wait… did they…?” yunjin grins knowingly, “yup. it really was high time they fucked.” the former lets out a satisfied giggle, “i know. they were so obvious without even being together. i was getting tired.”
“you were getting tired?!” you gasp at mingyu later in the night, panting against his pillow. you’re on your back and he throws you a tshirt of his to sleep in now that your dress is… demolished. you look at it sadly out of the corner of your eye. “i really liked that dress,” you whine, as he picks the remains of it up with a somewhat smug grin, “planned to wear it out again.”
“i couldn’t risk that. you looked too good in it,” he chuckles to himself as he jumps into bed with you. you sit up, feigning anger as you slip the cotton over your head, warming up when the smell of mingyu greets you. “i don’t know if i could resist seeing your tits out like that.”
you hit his chest hard with a lighthearted scoff, “i knew it! you’re such a pervert. not just a pervert, you’re also a brute.” you groan as you rub your thighs together gingerly. mingyu props himself up, pulling you down into a hug, rubbing your back. “sorry, does it hurt a lot?”
“it’ll hurt more in the morning,” you relax in his arms, pressing a loving kiss into his hair, “should’ve known you went so rough. asshole.” you giggle when he pulls away in disbelief at the last insult.
“how could you—!” you roll away from him, laughing. he shifts closer, caging you against the wall behind you, “hey, you can’t say stuff like fuck i knew you’d have a big dick and then expect me to go all vanilla! do you know what that does to a guy?”
you shriek in embarrassment, “don’t bring that up now!” your ears redden when mingyu forces you by the chin to look up at him. “besides, where do you think the nicknames like big gyu and big guy came from?”
mingyu’s jaw falls open at the revelation and you break out into a fit of laughter at his mindblown expression. “how- how long have you been thinking about my di-”
you hit him to stop him, “ever since you kept pushing me away,” you run a hand down his side, sly grin on your swollen lips, “and i had to come up with something if i wanted to get myself off alone.”
with an exasperated groan, he falls against you, suffocating you as his body goes limp above yours. you let out a gasp when you feel him hardening against your leg and he speaks into your neck, “you’re seriously telling me i’ve been missing out on taking you like this for… for how long now?”
you kiss his cheek, hand slipping down his boxers with a soft exhale, “a while. and if you hadn’t come to your senses today… well, i’d all but given up on you today. when jeonghan kissed me, i was just going to—”
suddenly your breath escapes you, mingyu’s hand around your throat and his lips on yours with a loud grunt. he stops your hand in its movements, “please tell me you’re not talking about jeonghan while— fuck!” he gasps when you bite his lower lip to protest his hand on yours. his hand gives way and you’re palming the tent in his boxers again, pushing him down against the bed, so thankful he doesn’t have a rooommate in times like this.
you place a kiss at the corner of his lips and trail down his chest, shirt long gone, before muttering, “forgive me?”
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
i really want to write a more wholesome ending but have not the time or energy right now, so i'll be back with a shorter spin-off/ epilogue of sorts about how you and mingyu as a couple work out, how your friends react, some skinship, etc.
anyway, this is my official announcement that i've become a baby carat :] didn't know how much i was missing out on before svt so this is very fun. so far, jeonghan's my favorite little guy, although as is clear from this... mingyu makes me do things. on the roster are: minghao and joshua. hopefully there will be more svt fics in the future. no promises <3 goodbye friends and foes!!
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pitchsidestories · 3 months
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the favourite II Aitana Bonmatí x Reader
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masterlist I word count: 2349
a/n: hi everyone, this oneshot is a longer one, so get cozy. <3
The golden hour has just begun in the beautiful city of Barcelona, you were finally done with correcting your student’s paper, so you were able to continue reading the book on the sofa, which was the perfect way to clock off of work in your opinion.
The happy mood slightly shifted when you thought back to the phone call you had with your girlfriend earlier that day. Aitana told you she was injured and that she was coming back home this evening.
You felt guilty, because partly you were happy about the fact that your lover was about to return to you, this year has been a lot for her work wise, and you rarely got time to spend together as a couple, apart from you trying to be there in the stands at every home game or final. It didn’t surprise you that the midfielder’s body was exhausted from all of this.
On the other hand, Aitana loved playing football so much, so it would be hard to not see her doing what she was so passionate about. You realized reading at this point was impossible, there were too many thoughts running through your mind.
“Hola, mi amor.”, you greeted her warmly, as you heard her opening the front door.
“Hola.”, the football player replied in a cheerful tone which tried to hide the disappointment the brunette felt.
Immediately you jumped off the sofa to give her a much-needed hug. “How are you? I know you had to leave national team camp early.”
“It’s nothing too bad, don’t worry.”, Aitana reassured you with a weak smile on her lips.
“But I do worry a little.”, you admitted concerned while running a hand through your girlfriends open hair, something you knew she liked, because it had a soothing effect on her.
You caught her looking at the papers which were still laying on your kitchen table, so you added quickly:” Sorry, I’ll take those to my office.”
“No, it’s fine. Stay, you’re busy.”, the midfielder slowly shook her head.
“I’m actually done with going through them. My students wrote about their role models, and I spotted some familiar names quite a few times.”, you remembered, smiling fondly at the memory.
“Oh really? Like whose names?”, Aitana looked up curiously.
“Like Patri, Alexia, Salma, but you’ve been mentioned the most. Wait-”, you counted them off on your fingers. You proudly showed your girlfriend the texts which were about her.
“I didn’t know your students cared so much about football, specifically women’s football.”, the midfielder muttered amazed, while devouring the handwritten pages.
“I know, the view definitely changed in recent years… Remember when we were at school and no one seemed to care about women’s football?”, you asked, thinking back to the time when you and Aitana met for the first time. You were best friends in school, always stuck together. Until things changed in your teenage years.
Unhappily, your girlfriend put the papers back on the table: “They always said that we can’t play with the boys.”
“Or that we would never be as good as them.“, you added. “Which I was okay with because I always preferred books over balls, but I admired you for not listening to these voices.”
You had loved a good football match when you were younger, but you never had the same burning desire to play that Aitana possessed.
“That’s all I ever wanted to do, kick a ball around.”, Aitana shrugged and even though a lot had changed since your school days, you felt reminded of the younger Aitana. The quiet girl that defiantly fought for her right to play football.
You smiled softly: “I know, and it got you very far.”
“I never knew it would.”, Aitana replied, clearly lost in her own thoughts about her career.
“But it did.” You took a deep breath. The idea that had been floating around your head since you read the papers started to take form on the tip of your tongue. “Could you do me a favour?”
“Sure, which one?”, your girlfriend answered quickly.
“Maybe you could visit my class to talk a bit about your life as a football player? It would mean the world to them. You’re clearly one of their favorites.” You nodded in the direction of the pages piled on the table.
Aitana did not answer. She stared at you speechlessly until she found her voice a second later: “Your students want to see… me?”
She looked so surprised that you had to bite back a laugh. “Yes, they would love that.”
Aitana beamed: “Sure. Of course I’m coming.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
You leaned over for a quick kiss: “I really appreciate it.”
“It’s a pleasure.”
“But for now…”
Your girlfriend raised her eyebrows in expectancy: “Yes?”
“Cuddles?”, you asked innocently, ready to wrap your arms around her.
“Please.”, she smiled. You threw yourself against her body, tightly hugging her.
Laughing, Aitana let herself fall backwards against the armrest of the sofa so you could lay on top of her.
She started to run her fingers across your back: “This is nice.”
Your girlfriend paused for a moment, before adding with a smirk on her lips:” But not as comfortable as in our bed.”
“You’re right let’s go to our bedroom.”, you agreed as you helped her getting into a standing position.
“Coming.”, Aitana answered. With a soft sigh the midfielder landed on your double bed.
“This is so much better.”, she declared, eyes closed. The bedding felt pleasantly cool underneath her body while you laid down next to her.  
“Perfect.”, you mumbled. Grinning you continued:” Do you want me to read out to you a little?”
“Sure.”, the football player nodded, there was nothing in the world she found more soothing than listening to your voice.
“Okay.”, you happily obliged to it. After a couple of pages, you realized that your girlfriend was becoming sleepy. Quietly you put your book on the nightstand.
“Sleep well, Tana.”
“Night.”, Aitana whispered before inevitably sleep took it’s hold over her.
In the mornings you were always the first of you two to get up, as you needed to be ready for school. Much to your own surprise you realized that the midfielder was awake too:” Good morning.”
“Morning, amor.”, she replied, before placing a sweet kiss to your mouth.
“You know that you can still stay in bed, right?”, you muttered blushing. After all those years the brunette still had that effect on you.
“I know, but I couldn’t sleep anymore.”, Aitana admitted smiling sheepishly.
“I guess I’ll make two cups of coffees this morning.”, you remarked.
“Please.”, your girlfriend responded. When the dark-haired woman was holding the warm drink in her hand, she thanked you with another kiss.
“You’re welcome.”, you replied, enjoying one of the rare mornings you both had together.
You wished you could enjoy that moment for a little bit longer but looking at the clock on the wall you cursed under your breath:” Oh shit, I need to go!”
“Have fun. I’ll see you later.”, Aitana winked at you.
“Bye.”, you blew her a kiss, before making your way out of your home, ready for another day with your classes which were all dear to your heart.
The day arrived when Aitana was about to meet them for a lesson, you beamed excited at her:” Ready, love?”
“Ready.”, she nodded, your girlfriend was glad to have some distraction from her injury for at least the upcoming two hours. For a second you pressed her hand encouragingly, before leading her into the classroom.
“Good morning, everyone. Today we’ve a very special guest.”, you announced cheerfully.
A young girl with blonde hair called Imma sat in the front row and gasped audibly: “Oh my god, Aitana!“
She stared at the football player with widened eyes.
Your girlfriend smiled politely before introducing herself: “Hi, I’m Aitana Bonmatí. I’m a football player for FC Barcelona.“
“Can we ask her some questions?“, Jordi asked curiously. You knew that the lanky boy had vast interest in all kinds of football, no matter if the players were male or female.
You nodded, watching as his eyes sparkled in excitement: “Sure, that’s why she came.“
“Go ahead.“, Aitana prompted, trying to get the children to ask questions.
Imma raised her hand hesitantly: “From where do you know, Miss y/l/n?“
Your girlfriends gaze subconsciously drifted into your direction. You shared a smile for a split second.
With an eye-roll, Jordi complained: “That’s such a boring question, Imma!“
“I think that’s a very good question. We went to school together years ago.“, Aitana answered the question truthfully.
Jordi snorted: “Was she reading books back then too?“
You had to stop yourself from telling him, once again that reading was not only good for them but also a lot of fun. You tried to encourage your class to read every chance they got.
Before you could say anything, Aitana grinned: “Oh yes. She always loved books.“
“But I can play a bit too.“, you added innocently.
“Yeah. She’s pretty good.“, your girlfriend had to agree.
For once, Jordi was silent, looking from you to Aitana and back. A challenging smile appeared on his face: “We need to see that after class. But how did it feel to win the Ballon d’Or?“
“Amazing. It was a great honour but I couldn’t have done it without my team.“
“And you also won the Champions League!“, a red-haired girl interrupted with a big toothy grin.
“Yes, that was amazing too.“, the football player nodded.
Julias cheeks turned almost as red as her hair from exhilaration: “So cool!“
“I’m lucky to have such a great team around me.“, you heard Aitana say and you almost grimaced at how humble she was in front of your students.
Julia immediately followed with the next question, not allowing your girlfriend a break: “Do you have a favourite teammate? And is it Rolfö?“
Aitana laughed, surprised by the question: “I have a lot of favourite teammates. And Frido is one of them. She’s great, very sweet.“
“Like a team mum?“, Imma piped up.
“A bit, yes.“
“That’s cute.“, Imma commented happily.
“But we have a lot of people who can step up as team mums.“, the midfielder continued.
“Aitana, how’s your injury?”, Jordi changed the subject to a more serious one.
“It’s not too bad. They just wanted to be careful, so it doesn’t get worse.”, the midfielder waved it off in a reassuring way.
“Oh, good.”, he sighed relieved.
 “So now I’m here and can hang out with you guys.”, Aitana clapped enthusiastically her hands.
“Exactly.”, you smiled proudly at her.  
“Sorry, did you want to continue, amor?”, your girlfriend looked at you expectantly.
“No, I just wanted to say that the class is ending soon.”, you shook your head.
“Any more questions?”, the football player turned her attention to your students again.
“Can we play now?”, Jordi asked her innocently.
“Of course. Let’s go and play some football.”, Aitana agreed, her eyes mirroring the excitement of the little boy who was very thrilled to play with a Barcelona player.
On her way out, she couldn’t help but to tease you in front of the children:” Let’s see how good your teacher still is.”
“I’ll show you!”, you laughed.
“Prove it.”, the midfielder gave you a playful challenging look.
One of your students was handing you the football, so you did one of the football tricks you still knew before kicking it into the empty goal, making the boys and girls erupt into a loud cheer.
“See? She didn’t forget anything.”, Aitana said, her voice full of admiration.
“Wow.”, Jordi followed your moves with the football amazed.
“Not, bad, right?”, Aitana questioned him amused.
“Not as good as you are though.”, you whispered into her ear.
“Oh, if you got paid to play football all day, you’d also be good.”, she stated firmly.
“Yes, but I love my job, just look at their eyes.”, you replied, your girlfriend did what you asked her to do. The girls and boys faces lit up while playing football in front of one of their idols.
Afterwards she looked back at you in adoration: “I only must look in your eyes. You were made to work with children. They adore you.”
You weren’t even a big Taylor Swift fan, but your friends and the older students were and there was a line in one of her songs, which you quietly sung to her, before you looped the ball over the midfielder:” You know how to ball, I know Aristotle.”
“Excuse me?! What was that?!”, Aitana’s mouth fell wide open.
“I don’t know how I did it either!”, you confessed.
“That was impressive as hell!”, Jordi told you.
With sparkling eyes, Imma demanded: “Do it again!“
“Yes, do it again.“, Aitana smirked.
“Like this?“, you asked before trying to play the ball over the worlds best female footballer again. This time, you were less lucky and the ball came at the perfect height for Aitana to easily head it back to you.
“Oh no, it didn’t work.“ Julia sounded slightly disappointed.
You shrugged, trying to use the opportunity to teach your students a valuable lesson: “The good thing is, one can always try again.“
Aitana instead winked at them: “Don’t worry, I’ll teach her at home.“
Imma frowned in confusion: “At home? Do you two live together?“
“Are you stupid? She called her amor earlier!“, Jordi groaned.
The smaller girls eyes widened: “She did?“
“Yes!“
Aitana smiled at you, subtly linking your pinkies together: “She’s my best friend but also my girlfriend.“
“Oh.“ Julia made a delighted sound.
Jordi rolled his eyes: “They love each other, it’s so obvious, girls.“
And then he was back to kicking the ball around. Julia and Imma quickly chased after him, trying to get the ball.
You and your girlfriend stood in comfortable silence, still holding hands and watching the children run around you.
In this moment you were hit with the realization that this was exactly all you ever wanted from life.
484 notes · View notes
spidybaby · 5 months
Text
Not The Romantic Type | Part Three
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Part One | Part Two
"Aren't you nervous?" Fer asks, hands busy helping Pedri fix his smoking. "I'm about to colpase from the excitement."
"I feel like I'm going to cry myself to sleep, but in a bad way, I can't believe that I'm actually on the top three to get this."
If you ask him, only in his dreams he was able to be on the top three of the most likely to get the ballon d'or.
He improved so much over the years, he worked more on perfecting his game to be able to classifie into the best players.
He remembered the Golden Boy award, Messi won one before winning his ballon d'or. Now he's following into his idol footsteps.
"Mom wants a picture of you on the suit." Fer says as he snaps a picture of him. "Venga, let's go get some food, we still have that meeting with the constructor."
Pedri thank the designer, changing into his normal clothes back to meet the new contractor.
Fer and him are partnering in a restaurant, he trusted his brother as a chef for his whole career. It was obvious he was trusting him with something this big.
"We need an interior designer." The constructor tells them. "I know you have a vision of how you want this to look like. However, I feel that with a little help and more inspiration we can make this amazing."
"Vale, if you think it's what we need, then let's do it!" Pedri says excitedly. "Fer will be the one meeting up with this person since I'll be at the field."
"No problem, I think my girl will be the one. Not that I'm talking bad about the guy, but she's just a star when it comes to modern luxury style."
"Perfecto!" Fer smiles, "Let's meet up with her, I'm so excited."
Pedri was excited about everything, the ceremony in France, the new project, the possible winning of the Champions League.
He was focused on the field and nothing else. That's why Fernando decided to be the caregiver or the project, so Pedri would be all into his element.
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The dressing room was euphoric, the players happy about winning the semifinals, they're playing the final at home.
"Visca al Barca" Gavi yells.
"Visca al Barca" they all second.
"And let's all celebrate to our next Ballon d'or, the magician Pedri." Ter Stegen shakes him. "Vamos Pedri!"
They throw all the water they can at him, making him smile and laugh at how much support he has from his friends. His second family.
After the celebration Ferran invited Pedri to a little party he planned. "No lo sé, tiburón. I'm kinda tired and I have to meet with the designer to measure the tux"
"A little party never killed nobody." Ferran insisted, but he denied. He needs rest and peace.
"Vale, pero me lo debes." He hugs him tight. "See you around, pepi."
He drives home, passing in front of the place where the restaurant will take place. He can't help but feel pride, this feels like an extension of their parents' hard work.
Fer was laying on the couch, checking some ideas the ID (interior designer) sent them.
"Hola, tonto." Pedri pulls lightly his brothers hair. "Are those the ideas this girl sent you?"
"Si, look at this, I love this idea she has." Fer pass him the iPad. He sees the ideas, loving all of it. "She's amazing, first thing and I'm already in with everything."
"Yes, this is cool." He checks everything, loving every idea. "When are you meeting her?"
"I think tomorrow." Fer gets up, walking to the kitchen and pulling out food. "But don't worry, I'll update you on everything."
✨️✨️✨️
"So, as you can see here." The constructor pointed to the ceiling. "We thought about lighting that can be dimmed as the sun light goes down."
"My brother and I loved that idea, specially because we have that at home recently installed and I think it will go so well."
"Perfect, our designer will come any minute now, she told me traffic was hectic and she was just a block away but stuck."
"It's okay, I get it. It took me an hour and a half to get here today, so I can't blame her." He laughs, interrupted by his ring tone." Excuse me for a second."
The constructor kept looking at his structure with your design. The sound of heels makes him turn, you were walking fast while holding your iPad and a few more things.
"I'm so sorry, Marc." You apologize, leaving your things on the desk. "I think today is not my day. Is the client mad?"
"Not at all, Y/n." He pats your back. "He's an amazing dude, super relaxed. You will hit it off real quick."
You smile relief. You didn't want to lose this client, specifically because Marc told you they wanted to expand if the first restaurant goes well, meaning you will expand with them.
"Let's meet him them." You nervously giggle. "What's his name again?"
"Fernando, he's a chef."
Before you can even connect the dots, Fer walks into the room, saying goodbye to the person on the line.
"Fernado, so nice you're bac. This is our interior designer, Y/n."
You smile at the sight of him. Haven't seen him since the breakup. He has more facial hair, and he's stronger and definitely more mature looking.
"We know each other." You smile, still surprised at his presence. "We go way back actually."
Fer is as astonishing as you are, opening his arms to greet you into a hug. "It's been a long time no see." He laughs, hugging you tight. "Gosh, I can't believe you're our designer."
"I can't believe you're my clients." You laugh. "Let's leave the talk for later, I want to explain this to you, and then we can use the time."
He nods, letting you explain every part of your ideas. He can't deny that even if it wasn't you, he loves the ideas and can't think of any way to make it better.
You ask him about colors, measurements, textures, and different stuffs you will need to prepare yourself for your work.
"Perfect! We can't say that this meeting was a success." Marc happily says. "I'll keep working while you two chat a little, excuse me." He wayves goodbye while Fer and you say goodbye.
"Entonces," Fer says, picking your side like he used to. "You're a well-known designer." You nod, smiling.
"And you're a well-known chef, Mister González." You laugh. "It's so nice to see you. How have you been?"
"It's been good, I'm older but I think wiser." He hands you your iPad. Helping you with some things. "What about you?"
"I mean, you can tell how I am. I got my dream job and I feel like nothing can go better than this." You shrug.
Fer wants to ask. He needs to ask if you have someone or not, but he doesn't want to intrude into your private life.
"So, how's the family?"
"They're good, nothing to report." You nod. "What about your family? How are Rosy and Fernando? How is the Tasca going?"
You can't help but miss them, specially Rosy, she acted like a mother to you, always worrying about you, taking care of you when you were sick.
"Mom and dad are so good. They are healthy." He smiles at the thought of them. "The Tasca is doing good. This is a little extension of it, but bigger."
"I'm so happy for you, Fer." You hug him, happy about him, making his dream of having his own restaurant come true. "How is Pedri?"
Fer is speechless, he didn't think you will ask about him, not after the way you two ended things.
"Bueno, no le va mal." He laughs. "He's on top three to win the ballon d'or, Barcelona is on the UCL finals, la Liga finals. He's at the top."
You smile, you're happy he is getting all the awards he deserves. He's always been amazing at his job.
"I'm happy for him." You nod. "Even tho I haven't really been aware of the team. I've been busy lately."
"Maybe you can catch up, he's also in this with me." Fer smiles as big as he can "and he's single." He elbow you.
You laugh at this, blushing a little at the confession. You did hear some rumors about him and some girls, deep down wanting for it to be just that, a rumor.
"Don't know why that's important." You giggle, looking down. "We been over for a long time now."
"Well, if you want him back, he's available to be picked."
"Fer." You laugh. "He wouldn't pick me, specially with all the girls he's probably getting." You look away while saying that.
He always got girls, and nobody could deny that. In your mind, they were girls who were hotter than you, prettier than you, more experienced than you.
That was something that made you feel insecure, not that he was engaging with them in any way, he always ignored them or just straight up blocked them.
But you had that little insecure voice from time to time that told you that he had better options and that you needed to step up.
"Don't say that." He says in a serious tone. "You were the best thing Pedri had."
Fer wasn't lying. After you left, Pedri went down a very dark path. He was going out, drinking, bringing girls home.
Everything to make him forget about you. Girls who looked nothing like you, who acted nothing like you.
Girls who went after his money and his fame. They were doing everything they could to show they were with The Pedri from Barcelona.
You on the other side, always made sure to be cautious about not getting recognized. You never wanted the attention that came with being his girlfriend.
You were with him since he was that Canarian guy at Las Palmas, that skinny boy who made it big.
You were there before the fame, before the fans, before the name. But you were his past.
"If you say so." You exhale. "I will send you a virtual look of everything with all of the things you picked."
The change of subject makes Fer think you may not be as interested in his brother as he thought you would be.
Maybe you moved out and didn't want to let it out. Maybe you changed your likes and now you're not up for a footballer.
"Thank you, I'll see you here next time I pass by?"
"You will, I'll be here a lot more."
With a hug goodbye you both walk out to your cars. You wave him as you enter your car, getting a honk from him.
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Fer can't even believe the picture he's seeing. He thought Pedri was being honest with him when he said that no more one night stands with random girls whom the club invite to their parties.
He can't help but feel embarrassed about talking to you all this past days about how much Pedri would love to have you back.
But now his little brother is on all the magazines and gossip news of Barcelona and Spain as a taken man by this random influencer who obviously posted more about being at the party.
One part of him can't blame Pedri, he was in a committed relationship since he was sixteen, he obviously went out and went crazy after the break up.
But six years later was a little too much for him to keep his crazy behavior. He had a chance of winning the girl of his dreams back.
Fer can't help but think about you. If you see this news and pictures, you will definitely think all he's been saying is a joke and that he's playing with your feelings.
And how right he was, you can't help but feel anger. He's been spending all this time changing topics to Pedri.
"Pedri was busy but says hello."
"Oh Pedri can't wait to be here to see you."
"When you're back together, I'll be the happiest brother in law you will ever have."
Was he teasing you?
You don't even want to go to work today. You want to call in sick and spend all day in bed thinking about how stupid you are for believing Fernando's words.
But you won't. The breakup didn't stop you back then, and it won't now.
You will walk with your head up, ready to work in your nice outfit. You won't mind, you have so much to lose, he already lost you.
He lost you.
You didn't lose him.
"Buenos días!" You say, giving Marc his favorite coffee order as usual. "Any news I should now?"
"Well, the Calcutta Gold Marble is taking longer than expected but after that nothing to worry about."
You nod, leaving your things at your little station. "As always with Calcutta."
"By the way, Fernando was looking for you. He's outside talking with David." You nod, thanking him and walking to where Fer is.
You know he's about to mention the picture. He can't help it but be so obvious about things. But you will change the subject as much as you can't.
"Hey, boss." You smile "heard you wanted to talk to me."
"Hey, how are you?" He plays with his necklace.
"I'm good. I had a very nice sleep." You smile. "I want to tell you, the Calcutta Gold Marble we picked for the bar area is taking more time. Don't worry about it. That's normal with that material, but just a heads up."
He half smiled, not sure how to approach you. He wants to say sorry. He wants to kick his brother.
"I'm sorry." He spat, can't even think straight due to the blame he feels. "You probably saw the picture and -."
You sigh, not wanting to have this conversation this early. "Fer, let's focus on what we need to focus."
"I just feel like I need to apologize."
"You don't. Let's move to what's important here. Your restaurant."
He understood quickly, not bringing the topic again. That made you relax. Before this project you were fine not thinking about Pedri. You are fine now.
You focus on making this project happen. You wanted Fer to have the best reaction when he sees his project finish.
✨️✨️✨️
"So, are you nervous about tomorrow's match?" The press guy asks him. "It's the finals for the UCL, and then you have to go to France for the Ballon D'or. You have a pretty crazy schedule."
"Bueno, I think I've always had a crazy schedule." He laughs, making the interviewers laugh too. "But I'm not nervous, I trust my team, I have a big trust in all the work we've been doing. We trust out Mister, so to me it's about focusing on staying healthy, making goals and winning."
"Walk us through the process you have for your next trip to France."
"Joder, it's not that much. If I'm honest, I have the tux, have the shoes, have my family, don't think I need anything else."
"Pedri, we got many requests to ask you if you don't walk with a ballon that night, will we see you walking with a special someone?"
He half smile at that question, knowing he fucked up by getting too close to María at the party.
"I don't have a girlfriend. If that's what you're asking." He shrugs. "I'm single. And probably the only lady I will be going to hug during the ceremony and after is my mom. Thank you."
He walks away, mad at himself for allowing this to happen again. He knows this girls just want the hype attached to his name. Specially now, with all the winnings of the club.
"Dude, you okay?" Gavi asks, noticing his frown. "What did they say?"
"They asked if I'm walking out that fucking auditorium with someone, es una putada, I will celebrate the week I don't get linked with some random girl."
Gavi lift his eyebrow. "Si, but the rumors don't just appear." he scuffs and turn to his locker.
"What do you mean?"
"Pedri, you used to be out and about with a different girl every other week. You flew this girl to Manchester. When you came back, you had this other girl in a new hotel. You're doing this to yourself."
He can't even argue because it's true. He did all those things. He flew all these girls. He fucked up his reputation.
"Me cago en la puta." He threw the towel at the inside of his locker. "I just wish I can have some fucking privacy."
"Then don't involve yourself with girls who only care to expose that they're with you." He hits him with his jersey. "Dude, you can go out and find a nice girl who will want a relationship and not just sex and a picture."
He nods, stresses about the topic already. Gavi is right. So is Ferran when he advise him not to mess with every girl that flaunt at him.
And when Fer tries to get some sense into him finding someone to settle to. Someone who will be happy to welcome him after a long day, someone who wants to grow a family with him.
He doesn't want that. Not without you.
He agreed to move out that day when you asked him to be happy, to find someone who would celebrate all his victories.
But he had that. He had you.
He lost you.
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The game was about to finish, the extra time about to finish.
The Bayern had a corner. So they have to step up and prevent them from scoring. Just two minutes more and that's it.
"Vale, a ver." He yells, catching up the attention of the players near him. "Marc, just this cover up and the Champion is ours, please catch it." He makes them laugh. "Fermin, cover Davies. Gavi, cover Saliba. I'll cover their number 10."
They all nod, positioning themselves. They were nervous, this was their chance. This was their final chance.
When Marc let the ball go, Gavi was at the right place at the right time. He hit the ball with his feet, making it go out of the goalkeeper area.
Raphinha runs away with it. Getting the ball as far as possible from their area. Just when he's trying to make a assist to Pau, the referee blows the whistle.
Pedri runs to Gavi and Fermin. Hugging them while screaming. The public was as static as they are, cheering for them.
They won. They got the Champions League.
He look over at where his family is, they're screaming and jumping. Everybody is, the whole stadium is.
Running to his parents open arms. He can't help the tears of happiness as he hugs his family.
Feeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrr added to his story
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You are happy for him, you can't lie to yourself like you do to other people.
You feel proud, he got everything he ever wanted, he got la liga, he got the Champions and he's probably will get the Ballon.
And he did what you asked him to do. He got himself someone to celebrate all that with. Someone who will make him happy.
The sour taste in your mouth haven't left since you saw that picture of him with that girl at the party.
He left you behind, like you asked him to.
You tried to focus on the work you were doing, turning the tv off to pay more attention.
You can't, your mind goes back to the way things used to be. He made mistakes, and you accepted all those mistakes because you loved him.
While he is at his party, with his family and his new girl. You are trying to forget about the memories of him.
You fix all the things Fer asked you to fix in the design, making the things he wanted as similar as possible as he explained.
You texted him, asking him if he was able to come see you to approve everything so you order the material.
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Fer answers you while he opens the door of his home. He was still ashamed about the picture situation. He could sense the change in your attitude before and after that picture.
"I need your help, I don't think I can walk upstairs by myself." Pedri whine, he drank more than he should, making him dizzy.
Fer helps him, carrying him while walking upstairs. "Pedri. You need to help me just a bit."
He feels bad, he doesn't want to celebrate alone. All his teammates with their partners and kids and he's alone.
Yes, he has his parents, his brother, this family and friends. But he needs a hug at night when he gets insecure. He needs a shoulder to cry.
He craves intimacy, not sexual intimacy. He wants to feel secure with someone to the point of trusting all his worries and deepest secrets.
He wants someone to know his family, to sit at his parents' table and have a relationship with them.
"I'm sad," he confess. "Am I allowed to be sad?"
Fer can't even understand where this is coming from. He never saw signs of Pedri being sad or never heard anybody telling him to suck it up.
"Pepi, you can be sad." He reassured him. "Why are you sad? Tell me"
Pedri just shakes his head, not even sure how to approach the topic. "I miss my life back when I was twenty."
Fer understood, his brother carries a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, especially now with the whole <he needs to bring the ballon d'or home just like Messi>
"How can I help you, pepi?"
"If you have a magic wand that can bring me back to when I was happy and didn't have to fuck a girl every night to feel something, please use it."
He frowns, not sure how to reassure his brother. He knew Pedri felt alone. He can tell. He told him off about his sex life.
Not shaming him, but making him understand that the pattern he was following was not healthy at all.
"I can help you by not leaving you alone." He hugs him, pating his back lightly to calm him down. "I'm here, always will."
He helps Pedri take his clothes off and get into bed, he wants to check him in case he feels down again.
Once Pedri is passed out, he tries to plan something, how can he help him?
He picks his phone to text his mom that they're home. He sees the last text he sent is to you. The light bulb on his head turns.
He can help him, he's not with anyone, not that girl at the party and is done with the playtime every other week.
If he asks him to go to the meeting and approve the things you need, you can meet and reconnect.
He just needs his brother to be ready tomorrow to meet you. He knows he still thinks about you, and you might still do the same.
He texts you, asking you to meet at four p.m., by that time his brother will be up and fresh to see you.
Feeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrr added to his close friends
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"I don't even want to be near a drink in my life." Pedri makes a disgusted face, he needs a whole gallon of water.
"Finish the drink so we can go."
The drink looks bad, very bad. Even tho it was just a tea with no sugar. "Maybe I'll just go brush my teeth."
Fer feels excited. He wants his plan to go well. He's anxious but happy. He knows it's about time you two make a move and solve what needs to be solved.
"Vamos, big head." Pedri smack the back of Fer head. "You drive, I can't do nothing yet."
The trip was not as long as usual. The streets were lonely and Fer was driving slowly. He confirmed you were coming before leaving the house.
When he parked, he noticed Marc's car parked in front of the building. To his luck, the parking lot was being modified, so he needed to park in the nearby building.
"Oye, I'll find somewhere to park. There's a little office, white door to the left. Wait for me there."
He does as he's told, walking with his head down. Still feeling the pain from all the drinking he did.
"Hola?" He asks, opening the door a little before entering.
He looks at all the things on the walls, the chair textures, the floor wood, the bar design, the lamps options.
He's in love with all the ideas, with the little real-life version of what the restaurant will look like. With the little pink pen notes the designer left. The door opening can't bother him. Looking at all the planning that they made in so little time.
You can't even blame him, you weren't paying much attention either. Focusing on answering Marc's text about something related to a change that needed to he approved as soon as possible.
"Hola Fer. Sorry I haven't gotten a chance to greet you properly. I've been so busy with all this little things."
You open your bag to search for your iPad, wanting to show him everything quickly to move out and not waste more time.
Pedri turns quickly, the sound of your voice amazes him. You're there after so long. After all this time.
"Hey about the Marble, I think it's best if we just switch the whole piece. This is taking so long." You won't turn, he won't say a word. "Fer?"
The two of you are just standing there, looking at each other, no words in between. Nothing.
Pedri thought a lot about what would happen if he ever saw you again. Definitely all that planning went out the window the second he heard your voice.
You practice too, what if you find him in a bar some day in Barcelona? You wouldn't mind it. But you're minding it very well.
"Hola." You finally say, voice breathless and gone.
His eyes are rooming you up and down. He can't help but point at every little detail that's different about you, different in a good way. You feel the heat coming up your cheeks. He's there, looking more mature, more handsome.
You shake your head, you have one job to do, getting the changes approved to the project move forward.
"Is your brother coming? Because I really need him to approve this for me." You grab your iPad, tying to look uninterested.
"Oh, I can approve it." He extend his hand and you hand him the device. "Just explain to me what this is exactly?"
While you explain every little detail about the changes, showed him how it was before to compare and to see if he likes it.
He likes everything, but there's something about the way you talk, something about the way you smell, you didn't change that perfume you love.
"I like your hair." Your hair is longer. He loves that. You always talked about wanting to let it grow to try new hairstyles.
You smile, the closeness not helping the situation. "Thank you." You say softly.
You might act calm, but from the inside, you're about to burst because of the way he looks. It's a good thing he changed his style.
Also his perfume, he's using the same perfume you gave him once, he didn't change it. And that facial hair is gone, he's shaved and clean.
"Do you like how everything is, or do you want to make any more changes?" You ask, trying to act professional.
"I mean, you're a star. This looks amazing." He praise you. Making you feel a wave of pride. "Fer will love this."
Your smile grows, you're happy he likes the changes. But you like even more the way he's praising you work like never before.
"So how are you?"
You close the iPad, sending Marc an "approval" copy of the digital prototype. "I'm good, been working hard and I've been busy with it." You shrug, not sure what else to say. "Congrats on the UCL, I heard you guys won."
He smiles, winning the game with his two goals was more than he ever expected. "We did, thank you."
"two goals huh?" You tease him. Feeling a little confident.
He rolls his eyes playfully. Laughing at your teasing. "I'm kind of proud of that, I'm in my Messi era? Or something like that."
You both laugh, you missed this, miss having someone to joke to. You back away from his circle, haven't seen his friends since then, when you are in Tenerife you won't go to his parents Tasca.
You missed having someone from your past in Barcelona. Someone who knew you before the city, someone who knew you as well as he did.
"That's great." You pat his arm. "I guess I'll see you around." You walk with him to the entrance. "Tell your brother I'll text him, I still need to show him some things."
"Sure, if not, you can text me. It won't hurt if I get a little more involved." He throws the jab at you, noticing your little lip smile.
"I'll ask your brother to send me your number." You say, stopping in from of the exit door. "Bye." You walk over the construction area, he can't keep his eyes away from you.
When he's out, Fernando is waiting for him in his car, the smile he has, knowing what he did. He acts as if nothing happened, he couldn't find parking and wait for you.
"Hey, was everything looking good?"
Pedri scuff, shaming his head while smiling. "Hijo'puta" he jokes, hitting him in the head. "You didn't told me she was here"
"I wanted to surprise you."
"Joder, she looks beautiful. Her smile hasn't changed at all, and her eyes, mierda, are shining like crazy."
Fernando is happy hearing Pedri talk about you, he haven't seen him this happy in a long time. Haven't talk about anyone like this in a long time.
"Her perfume, Dios mio. She hasn't changed that perfume, the same since we met." He's still rambling about you. "You didn't tell me, why?"
"I thought it was for the best, plus you were finding out once you started coming."
"Would it be crazy if I confess that I might be in love still?"
The smile on their faces is comical. Fer knew he never forgot you, and Pedri was just admitting it out loud.
"No." He laughs. "You have one more chance, dude. Don't blow it."
And he doesn't.
Every chance he gets now, he will visit the place. He will be there even tho there's nothing of interest happening.
He loves making small talk with you. Having you explain everything you do or everything you order.
It's weeks and weeks of him doing this, bringing you a coffee or drink every time. You can't help but smile at him, still remembering your order of drink.
Also if he has training in the evenings, he will bring you something to eat for lunch. Worrying because you don't give yourself a little break. In his words.
"This is what I was telling you the other day. If you put this on the bar, it will look better than this other one." You show him, thinking he's playing attention.
"Let me take you out on a date."
You smile, not sure what to say. You want to accept, you still have feelings for him. But you don't want to feel what you used to feel when you were with him.
"Please, I know a place you would love."
"Pedri, I don't think it's a good idea. We are working together and if this doesn't go well its just going to be awkward for us."
"It will not, please just give me a chance." he beggs, grabbing your hands. "If you don't like it or you don't feel good I promise I will back off."
His hands on yours, thumbs caressing your fingers. You want to say no, not repeating the pattern. But you want to give him the chance his asking.
"Vale, but you have to promise me that you won't wear those ugly skinny jeans."
He laughs, he knows how much you used to hate those kind of jeans. Always asking him to let you into his closet to get rid of them.
"If you want to you can dress me, I'll be Ken and you can style me all the way."
You shake your head no while laughing, "I don't think you'll like me throwing half your closet."
If you had. A chance back then, those Jean shorts and skinny jeans were a must in the out of the closet list.
"Let's go tonight, I'll pick you up and everything."
You nod, writing your address in a pink post it. Thing that make him smile, you loved leaving little notes for him everywhere in his house or car.
"pick me up by 8?" You ask, making him nod. "Te veo entonces." You kiss his cheek goodbye.
You do your best work trying to act normal. When you're on your car you let a big scream. You were excited.
It's been six years, obviously it was nerve breaking.
You hurry home, you have time to calmly change and get ready. You picked a nice outfit, nothing too casual or too formal. The perfect middle point.
You have a long everything shower. Making sure to be as smooth as possible. It's not like you're thinking about doing anything but just to be sure.
Pedri was doing basically the same thing, making sure everything is clean and nice for the night.
He even make sure his car is in neat condition, asking Fer to go to a car wash to get it ready.
"You look fine, niño." Fer reassure him again. "vete ya, or you'll be late."
"Deseame suerte."
"You don't need it, just don't fuck this up and you'll be fine." Fer laughs.
You pass around your livingroom, you boots heel making a sound with every strep. You wanted this to go well.
The doorbell made you freeze. You check mentally if everything is good. Check yourself on the little mirror before opening the door.
"Hola, guapa."
"Hola." You blush a little at the compliment. "What is this?"
He hands you the small bouquet of your favorite flower. "A little souvenir from me, to you."
You small at the little game of words, you taught him that. Every time you got him something you used to say that to him.
You like how he tries to fix the past by not making the same mistakes, he bought you flowers, like you say you wanted back then.
"Gracias, get in, I'll put them on water."
He checks your house, he can't deny that he loves your taste, always did. You have a beautiful house.
His eyes land on a specific blanket, he gifted you that on your second anniversary. He remembered that you wanted the blanket and since he was winning some money on Las Palmas. He went out and got it for you.
"You still have this?" He caresses the material. Memories of how happy you were when you got the gift.
You check what he was talking about, smiling a little when you see what he means. "I do. I love that blanket." You grab your bag and stand next to him. "Plus, I usually watch movies or take naps on the couch, so it's the perfect location."
You walk to your door, making him follow you. "I didn't think you had it still."
"That means you don't have any of the gifts I've ever given you?" You joke, knowing most of the things you gave him were clothes.
He thinks for a second, he does have a ring you gave him for his birthday, he loves that ring. Or the bracelet with an eight engraved.
"I do." he smile, he had everything you gifted him. "I have the ring you gave me when I turned eighteen."
When you walk to the car you see a black Lexus. "Where is the Porsche?" You ask as he opens the door for you.
"Had to upgrade a little bit."
You see a crazy clean car, smelling fresh. You laugh a little, he was never this clean with his car.
The drive to the place was confortable, he asked you about your past works and you asked him about football. The usual.
Dinner was fine, you did liked the place and the food. He was right about it. He even ordered dessert and acted as if the waitress had forgotten the other one just to share it with you.
"It was amazing, thank you very much." You say, turning back to face him as you reach your front door. "I had so much fun"
He steps closer to you, hands on your waist. "That means this is me winning my chance with you?"
Your breathing accelerates. His closeness is making things to you. The tip of his nose is touching yours. You nod at his question, unable to say something.
He smiles, he can tell by your accelerate breathing and the way your hands are on his arms that you don't mind him being this close.
He lay his head on your shoulder, hands on your back and thumbs caressing your sides. Your hands roam his arms. Scratching lightly.
"You have practice tomorrow." You say as you finally get some sense back into you. "And it's getting late."
"I think they will be fine without me there. I just won us the UCL."
His breathing on your neck is tempting. But you want to take things slowly, you want to take baby steps with him.
"I don't." You try to think of an excuse on why he can't stay. "I don't have an extra toothbrush."
He laughs, understanding the message. He wants to go slowly too, proving that he's not the same one who hurt you.
Plus, you are not one of his one night stands, he doesn't want you to feel like one. "Oh no! That means I have to go home." He kiss your collarbone and pull away from you.
You fix a piece of his hair, hand on his arm, securing yourself. "I like your hair like this." Your nails brush his hair. Making him close his eyes at the sensation.
"I'll come see you after training." He pulls away from you. "I really want to take you out again, I missed this."
"I would love that." You kiss his cheek goodbye. Entering you house and waving him a quick goodbye.
The whole trip home was him and his mom on the phone. He always trusted Rosy with anything, her and his father were the first people he calls when something good or bad happens.
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He's mad, throwing his phone on the coffee table next to him.
He doesn't understand how people get to judge him based on things that are not related to football. On the field, he does the work. He makes sure he does assists, he even got some goals like the two of the last game.
He's good, he won't say otherwise. It took him so much effort to admit that he's as good as everybody else and saying he's not is unfair to his work and progress.
"Don't mind the things people say on the internet about you."
"I can't help it. Those random dudes on x saying things about me as if they know me."
"Their opinion don't matter." You pull him by the shoulders. He lays on top of you, hiding his face on the crock of your neck. "Don't let a random person affect your day."
You two have been seeing each other for three months, he makes sure to always go check on you after or before practice.
Always bring you something, some flowers, some coffee or a drink. Something to eat. Named it, and it'll be there.
He loves how much you two progress, and you love how much he showed you he changed, how much different he is from who he was back in the day.
"Don't go to work today, stay with me." He pouts.
You smile, nails scratching his scapl. "I have to go, either way your brother will be blowing my phone with questions and worries about every other thing."
"Block him." He jokes, knowing that Fernando was a perfectionist and wants this project to be as perfect as possible. "Seriously do." He kiss your shoulder before getting off of you.
"If I do I'll be fired." You joke back.
He makes a face. "They can't fire you. I'll get you back in." kissing your lips as he hugs your waist, head on your lap. "I don't want to do anything today."
Your fingers scratch his head, trying to calm him down. "I'll be here later, we can watch something on tv."
He nods, loving the feeling of your hands on his hair. Calming down from his frustration. He missed that, the level of confort, not needing to hide to feel intimacy, he missed feeling happy with a girl.
"I wish I could stay, but right now, I'm the one who calms your brother down when he gets perfectionist with every little detail." He understood, enjoying the feeling of being in your arms.
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"Am I crazy or are the lights way too yellow?" Fer asks, judging every little detail he feels is wrong. "And the material, do you think is okay?"
You wanted to laugh, this was a very common thing with clients, they all freak out with the progress.
"Fernando, please don't worry. I promise this would look amazing in a few weeks when things are more placed and organized."
He nods, going to question Marc about something he thought was not right. You move to your office, wanting to organize your things.
You answer Pedri's text, and he told you he was bored and lonely without you. You laugh and answer with a picture of your messy desk.
You hear a knock on your door. "Can I come in?" When you see who it is, your eyes light up.
"Oh my God! Hello." You say happily.
"How are you, nena? I missed you."
"I've been good, working like crazy. You know me, kinda workaholic." You laugh. "How are you? How's Fernando and how's the Tasca doing?"
"We're fine, the Tasca is doing great, a lot of people. You need to go back and pay us a visit." Rosy says, taking a seat next to you. "Fer told me you were working with them, I'm so happy for you."
You love Rosy, she was like a mother to you. She took care of you when you needed it. She cooked for you, she went to your high school graduation when your family couldn't.
She was special to you, really loved her like a family, the same with Fernando. They were family.
You got away from them after the breakup, you needed space and so did Pedri. You thought that invading his space by being near his family was wrong. That's why when you were on Tenerife you didn't went out to see them.
"I am, I didn't know it was them when I got into the project. I'm happy I did. I've missed them."
You talk for a while about different topics, mostly her telling you about all the things that happened all this years.
You also told her about your years, how you ended up with this job and how it was. It was nice to have the talk you two had.
"I missed you, I miss my daughter." She confess. You smile at that. You missed them too.
"I missed you too, sorry I didn't come back to your place. I thought it was the right thing to do after the breakup."
"I get it." She grabs your hands. "Pedri also told me that you guys were trying to see if things work out again."
You smile, nodding. "We are, I feel like we both want that and I feel this is the right thing to do."
"I hope it works out for you two, I want my girl back." She hugs you.
You two talk a little more until Fer went looking for his mom. You grab your things and walk with them to the entrance. You all say goodbye to Marc, asking him to text or call you if he needs anything.
You say goodbye to them, saying that you will call Fer to meet up for lunch on another occasion.
✨️✨️✨️
"Do you want a little smoothie?" You ask Pedri as he walked downstairs. "I made a banana and strawberry one."
He nods, walking over to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder and your neck.
"I have training at two." He says in a raspy voice. "And I have to pack, will you help me, preciosa?"
You nod, passing him a glass with smoothie. You kiss his forehead and fix his hair a little. "We can work on your luggage after training. I have a meeting and I can't keep missing work." You bop his nose.
He smirks, he knows you work hard, but you have been missing some days of work thanks to him. You didn't have that much problem since they were the one who hired you, and Marc was okay with your working from home.
"I'll pick you up after practice." He smile, kissing you. "I'll get us some food and we can watch your favorite movie while you help me."
You both enjoy your smoothies, talking a little about different topics. Not caring about anything else but each others company.
He planned to ask you to go to the ceremony with him in Paris, he wanted you there, he needed you as much as his family there.
He went to practice, the technical team and his teammates organized him and Gavi a little celebration for good luck.
"I need to know what cream this dude is using because those bags under his eyes disappeared in no time." Raphinha jokes. Hugging him.
They are all in the bathroom, having a chat while getting clean and fresh to go home.
"He's using vitamin love." Ferran jokes from the bathroom. "He's a lover boy now."
They all hit Pedri's head while congratulating him about being in love. He enjoys the messing.
"Venga, this is not a crazy new." He says, fixing his hair.
"It is." Fermin says, hitting the back of his head. "You were the whore of the group and Ferran is here, take that in."
"Mira capullo, I'm a saint." Ferran yells.
"Joer', it was not that bad." He tried to justify himself.
"It was." Gavi says. "That why we are happy that you have a stable relationship. With someone you love and who loves you." Gavi hugs him. Making all the others hug him too.
After the shower chat, he left looking for some flowers, looking for some fresh food from your favorite place, your favorite dessert.
He knocks on your door. When you open, you're greeted by a big bouquet of flowers, you smile taking them from him.
"Hola." He smiles. "You look so pretty." He close the gap between you two kissing your lips. "I have our dinner in the car, ready to go?" You nod, putting your flowers in a pot before leaving with him.
Your relationship has improved, you love the effort he's making.
When you broke up, you told him he didn't have time for you, that he never gave you flowers, he never cared for you to feel like you matter to him.
He wants to change that. He wants you to feel validated, and he wants you to feel loved. Because he loves you and would change a thing about you.
"I have a little something for you." You say, picking the little box and putting it in your purse. "Let's go, guapo."
He asks about it, questioning you about the content inside the box. You told him that he has to wait until later to find out.
When you two arrive at his house, you help him with his bag. Talking about something you saw on tv the other day.
"I forgot to tell you, Gavi and Ferran say hi." He says as you walk into his room. Food in hand. "And Ferran wants to know if you can unlock him on Instagram." He laughs.
You laugh with him, promising you will do it later. You left your phone charging downstairs, so he had to wait.
"Do you know what you want to take?" You ask him, your eyes fixed on the screen as you search for your movie. "It's cold, and you have to have some outfits just in case. What if you got an outing that needs something formal?"
He nods. "I have a list on my phone of what I want to take, some cargos, a bumper jacket, the suits are being taken by Dolce."
He pulls a luggage, opening it on the bed so you can help him pick the clothes and help him with organizing.
It was a fun time. You ate while organizing and feeding him most of his food to help him some more.
"Oye." He calls your attention. "I want to speak with you about something."
You nod, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He was standing in front of you. "Tell me."
He takes a deep breath. He needs to be prepared for a bad answer in case you don't feel comfortable with the invitation.
"I want you to know that no matter what, you can say no, and I'll be okay with that." He began saying. "I want you to come with me to the ceremony." He says.
He takes a few more breaths. Trying to prepare himself for the question. "I want you to come with me and my family. I want you all there. My mom, my dad, Fer, and you." He grabs your hands. "The thing here is, I know our relationship is not established as in right now, but I want to know if you would like to come with me as my girlfriend."
You smile. Thumbs caressing his hands.
You need to talk with him before compromising yourself again.
Yes, he did progress. Yes, he did change. Yes, he was better.
But you can't swipe things under the rug. You can't be one of those who start over without making peace with the past.
"Can you sit down with me?"
He nods, taking a seat next to you. He thinks you're saying no, preparing himself for that.
"I want to talk to you." You began. "Before answering your questions, I need you to compromise with me on something."
He nods, already agreeing with whatever you want to say.
"I need you to compromise and tell me if you ever feel like what we have is bothering you. If what we do is making you question our relationship. I want you to be honest with me. To trust me and to be straightforward with how you feel and how I make you feel."
He's surprised, he thought he was getting bad news but no.
"If we are doing this again, Pepi, talk to me." You giggle. "I want your honesty, I want your opinions, I want the long run with you. But I need a compromise." You grab his hands. "I'm not getting younger, I want a family, I want someone to come home to after a long day, after a sad day or just after work. Someone to spend my weekends with watching something or reading a book. And if you can't do that or simply just don't want to. It's okay." You smile at him. "Just be honest."
He frees his hands, grabbing your cheeks and kissing you. "I promise you that I will be the most honest person you'll ever know." He smiles. "I promise that you never were a bother and never will. I want the same as you, I want everything."
You hug him tightly. Sitting on his lap as his hands roam up and down your back.
It felt right. It felt necessary.
You finally got your past to be friends with your present.
"Now about what I asked, if you could answer." He says, giggling a little.
"Yes, to everything." You kiss his lips.
"Also about the gift?" He asks, curious.
"Yeah, you'll wait more than just a few minutes." You say, caressing his cheeks. "But I'll be worthy."
✨️✨️✨️
"Do I look fat in this tuxedo?" Fer asks.
Everyone in the room takes a look at him, questioning if it was the nerves of the situation or if he was serious.
"No." His father says, he wanted to laugh but kept it.
They continue helping with getting ready, leaving soon after everything seems under control.
Pedri and you were alone, finishing with your clothes and looks for the gala. You reassure him that his tux and hair looked good.
"Amor, everything will go the way it is supposed to go." You kiss him quickly. "Trust yourself."
He nods, hugging you to calm his nerves. He can't deny that he's not feeling as confident as he says in the news or interviews.
A knock on the door makes you separate. "Pedri, ready?" His manager asks.
He nods, taking a last look of himself in the mirror. When he's about to leave, your eyes caught the glare of the little box in the nightstand.
"Wait, your gift." You say, walking to the furniture and grabbing the box to take it to him. "Open it before we leave."
You were excited for him to see what's inside. You kept it a surprise until today, knowing he would be less nervous like this.
"How?" He asks, taking the tux bow out of the box. He recognized the piece. "I thought I lost it."
You smile. The bow has a meaning for him. He bought it before leaving to play for Las Palmas. He spent a good part of his savings on it.
"You told me, before leaving the island, that this was the bow you were going to wear when you got your first ballon d'or." You help him with taking the bow he has on and putting the new one in place. "And tonight, this is happening."
He feels his eyes getting teary. He can't help but think about his little self buying the bow at the local shop.
He knew back then that no matter what, he was going to work hard to get into that nominations and into the podium.
And he did.
"Te amo." He kiss you quickly. "Ahora vamos por ese jodido balón." He laughs, making you laugh. (I love you. Now let's go get that damn ballon)
pedri
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pedri De las mejores noches de mi vida ❤️
Thank you Culers for all the love and support. Without you, this wouldn't be happening. This is not only mine but yours too ❤️
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fcbarcelona Our winner 🏆❤️💙
ferrantorres grande hermano ❤️8️⃣🐐
leomessi felicidades Pedri 🐐 bienvenido al club de campeones 💪🏻
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🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl @mbappe-pedri @coco6514 @coco657 @gavisfanta @jajajhaahaha @urmotheris @dessxoxsworld @girlidekanymore @lanussysworld @largavidaalsol
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pers1st · 6 months
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remembered
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pairing: alexia putellas x reader
notes: this is so short ugh i hate this tbh but oh well, little angsty, mentions of injuries
You remembered every single trophy, every single victory, every loss, every draw, every team, every teammate, as you sat on the countertop of your kitchen, watching your girlfriend hum along to the Rosalía song playing over your speaker system as she stirred the pasta you had been cooking for a while now. Alexia was still wearing the sweats she’d worn on the plane back from the most recent champions league match, one that you had, once again, sat out for. With an ACL injury over two years ago and not a single minute back on the pitch due to the never ending list of injuries added to your knee since, you had sat out for a lot of matches. Every one of your teammates knew that it took a toll on you, but more than anyone, Alexia knew. She had seen you the very night of your injury, although it had happened during an international break. She had seen you cry and thrash in her arms, she had seen you when you’d gone into surgery and when you’d come out of it, she had seen every step of your recovery, had been present for every moment another doctor shattered your heart, she had picked up every broken piece of it and attempted her best to hold you together when you couldn’t. Still, you felt nervous to tell her. Still, you didn’t know how she’d react- whether she’d understand.
Alexia bled for football in a way few did - it was her whole life. 
“What’s on your mind?”, she hummed, lifting her gaze from the stove as she looked over at you fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt that hung over your body.
You shook your head.
“Not now, Ale”, you sighed. You had a plan for this. You had laid out every step of telling her how you’d announce the end of your career soon. However, one thing you hadn’t taken into account were your emotions, and how easily your girlfriend of five years could read them.
“You’re scaring me, amor. What’s wrong?”, she asked, her tone filled with worry and her eyebrows furrowed as she let the wooden spoon simmer in the pot, instead taking a hold of your hands, immediately stopping your fidgeting.
“It has nothing to do with you, Ale. Promise”, you murmured, taking a deep breath in to avoid your tears from falling, knowing that your girlfriend would abandon the food within seconds and force the words out of your mouth before you suffocated on them. But you had prepared Alexia’s favorite pasta with so much effort, wanting to welcome her back with something to make up for your lack of presence with the team recently, that you didn’t know whether you could take it.
“I don’t know why, but that’s making me feel worse”, she chuckled, squeezing your hands as she tried to find your gaze.
“I’ll tell you when we eat, okay?”, you asked, wanting to find a common ground with her and immediately, she nodded. That seemed to calm you, as you breathed a sigh of relief. Alexia understood that it was a serious matter, yet she didn’t push you. Maybe she’d understand that your knee had simply had enough. Maybe she’d understand that you had had enough.
The cartilage in your knee had, at one point, been down to only twenty percent, and through two very painful surgeries, the doctors of your club had been sure you’d be able to be integrated into the sport again. Yet, you had sought another conversation with one of the doctors who’d stayed behind in Barcelona, in the hopes of having some clearance on whether you actually would, at one point, play football again. The man had been insistent that this was a conversation to be held while more people, most importantly, your girlfriend was present, yet you had insisted on answers and had been told the one thing no athlete ever wanted to hear. 
It’s very unlikely. If I were you, I wouldn’t push for it.
“All done, no?”, Alexia asked as she lifted one of the noodles from the pot for you to taste, gently placing it in your open mouth. You hissed at the heat in your mouth, yet you nodded. 
“Sí”, you agreed, hopping from the countertop as best as you could, to take the plates from the table you’d already sat when she’d texted you she was on her way home.
After plating up the food, you took Alexia’s phone, shushing the woman’s protests as you changed the music to Taylor Swift.
“My monologue, my music”, you smiled, filling your girlfriend’s glass with water as you sat down across from her, taking a deep breath.
“Mi amor, you’re scaring me”, Alexia huffed, but you shook your head no, poking at your food for a second.
“I’m going to retire, Ale”, you started, missing how Alexia’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as she searched for words. Your gaze was fixated on your plate, not knowing whether you could look at her right now, whether you could take her disappointment. You had been through so much in the past few months (really, it had been years), your girlfriend’s disappointment wasn’t something you were particularly searching for. Still, you knew you would have to accept it as she remained silent.
“I saw the doctor yesterday. He said if he was me, he wouldn’t push it.”
At that, you looked up at her, practically seeing her wires spin.
“Screw him, bebita. He’s not you, he’s not an athlete, he’s not-”
“Ale, I’m tired”, you interrupted her, a single tear rolling down your cheek. You knew she wouldn’t understand.
“I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much. Every time I go again, it ends in pain and more time out and- it’s too much. I’m done, Ale. I’m done fighting”, you said in one breath, dropping your fork onto your plate as you pushed your chair back.
“Wait, amor!”, she exclaimed, and made her way over to you within seconds. You didn’t know whether she was going to yell at you, silently disapprove or try to change your mind, but you didn’t have the energy to fight her embrace as she tightened her arms around you, letting your head fall into the crook of her neck as more tears escaped your eyes.
“It's okay, mi vida. You’re okay, I’ve got you.”
Well, you certainly hadn’t expected that- her words in your ear only encouraged you to cry harder, to finally let go of all the weight on your shoulders as you sobbed into her shoulder. You didn’t have any way to fight the tears anymore, completely letting your guard down as you cried and cried. It seemed like hours, and if you were any more stable emotionally, you might’ve cursed yourself for letting the food get calmed, but if your girlfriend minded, she didn’t say as she wordlessly led you to the couch after what seemed like hours.
“Are you sure, bebita? I just- I don’t want you to regret it”, Alexia sighed, your hands in hers as she gently stroked your thumb.
“Sí, Ale. I’m sure. It’s going to suck, but I can’t cling onto nothing anymore. I need something to do other than wait for a potential comeback”, you spoke, your voice hoarse from all of the crying.
“Have you thought about this? Like, for long enough to be sure?”
You nodded. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about since the follow up appointment of my surgery”, you huffed in an answer. 
“Amor, why didn’t you tell me?”, Alexia asked, her eyebrows furrowed as she held your hands, still intertwined with hers, closer to her heart. You could feel it beat through her hoodie.
“I didn’t think you would understand”, you mumbled, suddenly insecure about what you had been so confident in before. Alexia was one of the most empathetic, most understanding people you’d ever met- and although it had taken her a while to get the gist of your knee problems, and hours to research every surgery in detail, you doubted yourself now- if anyone understood the toll this has taken on you, it’d be the person who had been there for you through it all.
“Mi vida, I don’t know what it’s like, for you. But I’ve seen you in pain for such a long time. I just want you to be happy, and I thought that you would be happy once you were back on the pitch. That’s why I pushed you. But if that’s not what you want, I understand. After everything that you’ve been through, I will respect whatever you want to do. And if you don’t want to play anymore, we’ll figure something else out”, she spoke, her voice firm yet gentle at the same time. You couldn’t help but lean into her at her words, the weight being lifted off your chest at once.
“Thank you, Ale. Thank you so, so much”, you whispered into her shoulder, letting her hug you once more.
“Of course, bebita. I’ll always have your back. You’ve had an amazing career, and you’ll be remembered for that, forever. No matter what you do next, I know it’ll be great.”
After a short amount of contentment, Alexia spoke again.
“Although, you might give Jana and Bruna a heart attack”, she laughed.
“I know. I don’t know how the team will take it, in general”, you gave back. This was another thing that had been cursing your mind for a while now. After a great time with Lyon, you had finally come to Barcelona three years ago, wanting nothing more than to finally close the distance between you and Alexia. With that, however, you had found a new family, and people who meant more to you than you could ever explain. Despite your foreignness, and your teammates from the US constantly making fun of you whenever they could find a video of you attempting to speak Spanish, this group of women had taken you in and transformed this city into what you hoped to be your forever home. Even when for the better part of your stay in Barcelona, you had been sidelined, on the injury bench or in an operating room.
“Well, it’s not like you’ll be gone, no? You’ll stay here, with Barça.”
“Sí, I will. But I won’t be at training, won’t be at every match. It will be different”, you huffed. You had no clue what you would do after your career- an after-football never having existed in your mind, but you knew that you wanted it to have something to do with the sport.
“They'll still support you. They all love you, especially the younger ones. They look up to you so much, mi vida. It will be okay.”
You believed Alexia. Because if your girlfriend was anything other than caring, gentle, and empathetic, she was also honest. If she said it would be okay, it would be okay. Despite the fact that you had no idea what you were going to do with your life, you knew that as long as you had Alexia, it would be okay.
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minniesmutt · 3 months
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☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮
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☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HAN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: GHOST!HAN, MEDIUM!READER, MASTURBATION, SEX TOYS, PERV!HAN, EXHIBITIONISM (?), POSSESSION, PENETRATION, UNPROTECTED SEX (?), MULTIPLE ROUNDS (2), MULTIPLE ORGASMS, DOM!JISUNG, PET NAMES (BABY, BABE). THE WORD “PERVERT” IS JOKINGLY THROWN AROUND, LMK IF I MISSED SOMETHING! ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.8K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog
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     The moment Y/n stepped into the apartment to tour it, she knew there was something in there. The relator did disclose someone had recently died in the apartment —which explained the lowered price compared to most units in the building. And she’d have to be crazy to not take that deal.
     A month after moving in, is when she actually noticed it. She’d always been more sensitive to the dead, seeing ghosts and the like. Never really interacted until now. 
     It was a long day after work. She was sitting on the couch watching one of her shows, trying to destress. Then she saw him. At first, she felt his presence and turned to him. The ghost had zero clue she had actually seen him. 
     “You know I can see you, right?” she asked him
     He blinked and took a moment to realize she was talking to him. 
     “Me?” he asked, pointing to himself 
     “Is there another ghost here I don’t know about?” 
     It was a very weird friendship from that point on. It was like having a pet. Jisung was always there, never left, a good companion. He just wasn’t as expensive as a pet. Oddly, he became one of her best friends and she told everything to him. And who was he going to tell?
     “What’s one thing you miss about living?” Y/n asked him one night as they were watching an anime he suggested.
     “Besides coffee and food; sex,” Jisung admitted 
     “Really?”
     “Yeah. Speaking of sex, you’re loud.”
     “Do you listen to me masturbating?” Y/n looked at him
     “Not by choice? I haunt this small one bedroom one bath unit. It’s hard not to hear,” Jisung defended himself. 
     “Perv,” Y/n joked and threw a pillow at him, just for it to go through him. 
     Jisung was very good at being able to take energy to take somewhat of a physical form. He was able to sit on the couch and chairs and pick up small items. Still was able to walk through basically everything and stuff mostly phased through him. Helped a bit that Y/n was a natural medium so he could pull from her to stabilize himself in the land of the living. 
     “Me?! I’ve seen some of the guys you’ve brought home! They are into some weird grade-A pervert things.”
     “I can’t even defend them because you’re right,” Y/n sighed, “They all suck in bed anyways.”
     “I know. Need I remind you of last weekend?”
     “No.” Y/n flushed, remembering when the guy she invited over in the midst of being just absolutely desperate for an actual cock.
     The guy had left after he finished and didn’t bother helping her get off and he was just an ass the whole time. Jisung watched the guy leave not even an hour later. He locked the apartment door after him before going and checking on her. 
     He didn’t think much of just walking through the wall into her room, only the be met with her fucking herself on a dildo. He should have left after but he definitely didn’t. She didn’t even notice his presence until after she finished.
     “You didn’t need to watch,” Y/n sighed
     “I mean, it was kind of hot,” Jisung shrugged 
     “Perv,” Y/n called him again
     “I can’t even really deny it now.” The two laughed as they switched their topic to the dumbass shit the mc in the anime was doing at the moment. 
     Three in the morning, Y/n was turning in bed, unable to sleep, and thinking about her earlier conversation with her ghost best friend. At the time the incident happened, she was shocked at him but thinking about it late at night, it was kind of hot.
     “Fuck,” Y/n groaned, dipping her hand into her pajama pants and panties. Rubbing circles into her clit slowly. 
     She could feel Jisung close by in the small apartment. Not in the bedroom, but close. Y/n moved down to push a finger into her, eyes shut as she went through rubbing her walls and thrusting her finger in and out. 
     It wasn’t enough though. Even after she added a second finger into her, it wasn’t satisfying. She pulled her fingers out and sat up, grabbing a dildo and lube bottle from her bedside drawer and stripping herself of her pajamas and panties, rubbing lube on the toy before slowly pushing it into her, imagining her ghost roommate instead. 
     Jisung heard a noise coming from her room. At first, he thought nothing but curiosity hit. He stood outside her cracked door. Then he heard his name being moaned from inside. He went into the room and his jaw dropped at the sight. 
     The pretty girl that had moved into his old apartment in the wake of his death, was laying stark naked in his old room fucking herself with a toy, moaning his name. He didn’t know ghosts could get hard until now. 
     His eyes raked all along her body from her pretty cunt to her perky nipples. He was frozen. Not knowing what to do. Should he say something? Would she let him fuck her instead? Could he even fuck her?
     “Please, Ji. Wanna come,” Y/n whined as she pumped the dildo in and out of her. 
     If he could be in any more shock, he would. She was really fucking herself to the thought of him. God he wished he was alive. 
     Y/n sensed him in the room now. She was too wrapped up in her pleasure to look for him. Her legs opened more, slightly hoping he was watching her fuck herself again. The thought alone turned her on more. Suddenly she felt it get colder near her bed before it dipped down at the end. She slowed down and opened her eyes. 
     Jisung was leaning forward on the bed, eyes glued to her cunt. “Keep going baby,” Han told her. 
     Y/n felt shy all of a sudden. Legs closing to his view but he was quick. Pushed her legs open, sitting between them now. Y/n looked at him with wide eyes, no longer even trying to use the dildo. 
     “Don’t get all shy on me baby. Do you need me to help you get off now?” Jisung pushed the dildo into her again, a whine escaping her
     “Please, Ji. Need your help.”
     Her hand fell away as Jisung took over. Using all the energy he had to hold the base and quickly thrust the dildo in and out of her, watching as her hands moved to play with her nipples and head threw back into her pillow. Then he got an idea. 
     He didn’t know if it would work. But if he could phase through walls and sit on the sofa, he could try. 
     He worked the dildo with one hand as he pushed down his sweats. He was glad he did comfy and was going through the afterlife in a hoodie and sweats. His cock sprung free before he pushed the toy deep into her. 
     He took his hand off the toy and pushed himself into it, stopping when he got to his pelvis. Slowly, he pulled out, testing to see if the dildo would come with him. And it did. 
     Jisung smiled as Y/n looked down. Her face went red when she realized he had possessed the dildo. All thoughts left her as he harshly pushed back in, hands holding her hips. Her eyes went wide while Jisung fucked her. 
     His hands were cold on her skin. They left a trail of goosebumps on her skin as they ran up her skin and grabbed her breasts. Nipples hardened more under his phantom touch. 
     Her back arches as the toy hit a particular spot inside her. Legs shaking the longer he fucked her, not losing any stamina. Hips rolling against his before she finally came. Cursing and calling his name as she gripped her sheets. 
     Jisung slowed his pace down to let her come down from her high. He pulled the toy out and his own dick out of it as well while she caught her breath. Jisung looked over the faux cock covered in her juices. He really wished it was his dick instead that was covered. 
     Y/n focused on him staring at the toy. His own cock was still hard between her legs. 
     “Ji,” Y/n called to him. He focused back on her, one hand still on her breasts. 
     “Can I… please let me fuck you babe.” He squeezed her breasts. Y/n moaned before mumbling a “yes” for only him to hear. 
     Jisung wasted no time pushing himself into her again. It was an odd feeling at first. To feel full but not at the same time. Didn’t stop her from feeling him pounding her sensitive hole. 
     Y/n could only imagine just how good he was when he was alive. How she wished they met when he was still breathing. Probably would have saved so much heartbreak and shitty one-night stands. Especially with the way he was talking. 
     “Fuck. Wish I could feel you,” Jisung groaned, leaning over her and groping her breasts. 
     Everything around her was hot but cold at the same time. She was sensitive from the first orgasm on the toy but the odd feeling of Jisung inside her was doing more than she thought it would. 
     One thing she quickly figured out Jisung was a hundred percent a shit-talker during sex when he was alive. Proven by the way he was mumbling about “no one alive is gonna make you feel this good” and the “got you all pretty on my cock, huh? Like having your ghost roommate fuck you silly?”
     Definitely not Casper the Friendly Ghost but he could at least prove his shit talk. He did indeed have her fucked silly at the current moment.
     “Gonna come Ji,” Y/n warned him as her fingers reached between her legs to play with her clit
     “Give it to me baby. Wanna see you come for me,” His eyes watched where he disappeared in her and where she was playing with her clit. 
     Y/n bit her lower lip as she came for a second time that night because of her horny ghost roommate. 
     Jisung didn’t stop until moments later. He was burying himself in her before pulling out. He definitely felt the motions of an orgasm but when he pulled out, nothing followed nor did he feel anything come out. 
     “Damn. No more creampies,” He tsked after a minute once they both came down from their highs. 
     “You poor thing,” Y/n giggled as she sat up on her elbows. 
     “Maybe I should possess your next hook-up,” Jisung joked
     “They’d probably fuck better if you did.”
     Y/n for up on shaky legs to clean up so she could get some sleep. 
     “It wasn’t weird? Fucking a ghost?” Jisung asked once she came back to her room and tossed her pajamas back on. 
     “Kinda. But in a good way,” Y/n answered as she lay down under her covers
     “I wish I was still alive,” Jisung sighed as he lay next to her
     “Me too. But, we could probably have a lot more fun with you being a ghost.”
     “Who's the pervert now?”
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☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR
☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback
© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE
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i-love-oldermen · 3 months
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|Now you know my name| pt.1
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A/n: I know it’s been a while but Ive recently started watching the boys and fell on my knees for this man. Literally on my knees for him, I love him so much.
Summary: After having a long mission all you wanted was a shower along with a sneaky link but What happens when you take a steamy shower pic and send it to the wrong person?
Warnings: Language, homel@nder (such a cunt)
Smut will happen in pt.2 I promise
Word count: 1.5k
Some of the basics you just joined the boys and have became close with Frenchie, Kimiko, M.M, Hughie, and even Annie. For some strange odd reason Butcher never seemed to be interested in you or even care to remember your name. You’ve tried being nice and understanding towards him but he either ignored you or walked off. That’s when you decided you weren’t going to pay attention to him anymore and for 3 whole weeks you haven’t.
You couldn’t think of Butcher at this exact moment though, the only thing you thought about was finishing a stupid mission to get some intel and get out quick. You sat with Frenchie and Kimiko in the van right behind Butcher who was driving. Everyone was busy talking who was doing what, when Hughie turned to you.
“You remember what your job is right y/n” he seemed nervous but serious.
To be totally honest today wasn’t the best day for you and you weren’t having it he told you your job over and over today least to say you were tired of it. Sure you were the youngest but you weren’t dumb.
Sarcastically you say “ You know what Hughie after the million times you told me, I don’t fucking remember”
The van got silent for a moment. Hughie was in shock along with M.M and Frenchie.
“Oí whats the matter with you” Butcher roughly says while looking in the mirror to look at you.
“Can you just drive” Rolling your eyes you avoid the gazes from everyone else by looking out the window. You see as Butcher he goes to say something but you just put on headphones and ignore him.
————————————————————————
After an agonizing car ride, the van comes to a full stop. You took off your headphones and climbed out of the van, Frenchie holding the door gave you an apologetic look. You pull down your pencil skirt fixing your blazer as well.
“You okay, mon amour” he put a hand on your face.
“Yeah Frenchie don’t worry about it” you gave him a comforting smile and turned to close the door.
The job today was to get into vought and plant a bug in Stan Edgar’s office. The seven haven’t seen your face around enough to remember it so you were the one going to sneak in.
Frenchie was hooking you up to a mic and camera so if you were to need back up you could get it within minutes. “Okay you should be able to get in and out with little obstacles” Hughie reassured you. M.M handed you the bug which you put in your phone case as Hughie did.
“Okay I think I’m ready to go” you were confident you were going to be able to do this.
“Aye don’t screw it up”
You turn to Butcher. He has a dumb smirk on his face that you want to punch off his face but you keep your composure while you put in your ear piece before walking away.
You pulled out your phone while walking in the building typing a message.
‘You’re such a cunt William , fuck you’
While walking through security and getting a pat down, you see Annie walk by she gives you a smile and a head tilt on which way to go. You are escorted by security up to the elevator. You had a cover as being an important investor to vought but you wanted to meet the man himself. Stan Edgar. Feeling your phone vibrate in your hand you look at it to see a message from Butcher. Without unlocking your phone to see the message you show it to the tiny camera connected to your shirt.
You hear through your earpiece, it’s Frenchie telling you to ignore the English man so you do putting your phone down to your side.
When you hear the elevator ding you are met with none other then Homelander. He has a disgusted look on his face as he looks at you. You start walking out of the elevator when he speaks.
“Have we met before”
You don’t know what to say almost to stun to speak so you just smile “No I don’t think so, maybe at a charity event”
You give a smile to reassure him. He looks you up and down seeing his expression change you change the topic. “Hey would you happen to know where Mr.Edgars office is?”
“Oh sweetheart you’re on the wrong floor” you cringe at the ‘sweetheart’ part feeling your skin crawl.
“Here I’ll take you” he states not making it seem like a question at all.
In your earpiece you hear Butcher -don’t fucking get in the elevator- he sounds furious so you take out your earpiece and take out earrings to cover it up and shoving it into your purse. Now your team can only see and hear you.
Homelander steps into the elevator holding the door for you, giving you an overwhelming smile “so are you coming or not”
You smile back to him before stepping inside the elevator. “Thank you so much for showing me”
He holds the smug smile on his face “No problem sweetheart” you cringe at the name again as your smile dies down. It becomes awkwardly silent as the building floors ding, you hear your phone starting to blow up. Homelander turns to you “You can answer that if you need to” you give him a head nod “oh it’s nothing important” he starts to speak as the doors open.
You take a step out quick not wanting to be with him a minute longer, leaving homelander in the elevator by himself. Thanking him you hurry to Stan Edgar’s office, he’s not in his office according to starlight. Quickly you pop in putting the bug under his office desk. You rush out of the office to be greeted yet again by the bitch in red white and blue.
“He wasn’t in there was he” he’s staring into your soul, taking a step closer to you.
“Oh no he’s not, my assistant was texting me that he rescheduled last minute” you smile to him hoping it would make your lie seem more believable.
“You’re a lying bitch” the supe threatens backing you into a corner with a freighting grin on his face.
“Excuse me”
“I do know you, you’re one of Huggies little friends aren’t you”
You try to shove him but he doesn’t move “I don’t know what you’re talking about” He pins your arms down.
“You’re lying, I can tell” His eyes start to glow red, when starlight comes into view.
She rushes to your side as she yells for him to let you go. He lets go “Oh hey starlight” he tries to play it off.
“Miss why don’t you come with me” She puts an arm around your shoulder, leading you back to the elevator. When inside the elevator and the doors close she turns to you with a worried look on her face.
“Did you really take out your earpiece”
“Yeah but Annie-“ you try to justify for yourself but she cuts you off.
“Y/n that was really risky, if it weren’t for Hughie who knows that homelander would have done”
“Okay im sorry” you didn’t mean it you still finished what you were suppose to and nothing that bad happened. You open your phone to see you have 10 messages all from Butcher.
Ignore the dumb cunt.
Don’t get in that fucking elevator.
You’re stuck with homelander how is that not in your fucking brain.
Y/n get out.
NOW.
Bloody hell stop being a cunt.
You’re going to get killed.
GET OUT!
He’ll KILL YOU!
Get the bloody hell away from him.
You have a shocked look on your face turning your phone to Annie. She has a puzzled look before grabbing your phone and looking at the messages. She’s shocked too. She covered your camera mouthing how she’s so shocked and didn’t know Butcher was this upset, totally agreeing with her as you are still in shock.
As the elevator doors open you separate now at the main floor, you step out of the elevator giving her a small wave. Walking towards the front door, you see a person you recognize pretending to read a newspaper. As you meet his eyes Butcher drops the paper and starts walking over to you. You stop walking standing in place in shock. He grabs you by your wrist before practically dragging you outside the building. M.m pulls up with the van before Butcher shoves you inside following you in climbing in the backseat. M.m drives away and that’s when Billy starts yelling.
“What the bloody hell were you thinking” he yelled.
“I think I planted the fucking bug” you yelled back at him getting into his face.
“You almost died y/n”
The van got quiet. Butcher had never said your name ever. To stunned to speak but still boiling with anger. You try to turn away putting on your headphones.
He pulls them off “I think the fuck not”
“Oh so now you want to act like you care like you’re my daddy”
You continued on “You treat me like shit just to care now, fuck you butcher”
Hughie tries to intervene “Guys come on-“
You turn to him “Hughie thanks for the back up but I swear to fucking god-“ you feel a hand go across your face. You hold your face.
You here Frenchie in the back of the van “oh shit”
You turn to Butcher “Did you just fucking slap me”
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lucy90712 · 3 months
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Hey so for Jude Bellingham can you write like Jude cheating on reader, he is very distant with her and she tries to make plans or asks him things like how has ur day been but he either just gives her blunt replies or just completely ignores her. Reader finds out he cheated on her via his phone and she confronts him and she admits it. Then reader leaves him and moves on with someone else (not a footballer just someone random) and Jude regrets what he has done but it is too late. Like pure angst and please make it long! Thank you!
A/n: the timeline on this doesn’t really work but just ignore that
Part 2
Sitting in a restaurant alone waiting for someone to show up is embarrassing. It's even more embarrassing when people know who your boyfriend is and are very clearly judging you and thinking about what might be going on in your personal life. Then the most embarrassing part of it all is having to leave after sitting there for an hour. 
No text no call and no answer. After getting home from the restaurant I stayed up for as long as possible to try and wait for Jude to come home so I could ask him why he didn't show up to the date he planned and invited me on but by 3am he still wasn't home. The next morning he wasn't in bed but he had clearly been home and then left for training but he still hadn't even read the texts I sent him last night. He did post on his Instagram story which explained where he was, he was at a party with all of his friends. I'd love to say that's the first time he's done this but it isn't in fact he's done it countless times in the last few months. 
~~~~~~~~~~
Valentine's Day
Two hours ago I got ready in a cute dress and did my makeup ready to go out to dinner with Jude. He's been so busy recently so we haven't spent much time together but he promised me we'd spend Valentine's Day together, he got us a reservation at my favourite restaurant and told me to dress up. That's exactly what I did now I'm sat here still waiting for him to get home two hours after when he said he'd be home. 
It hurts to be left just waiting I was looking forward to tonight and getting to spend some time together as I've missed having him around. He made this move to Madrid out to be the best thing for us but ever since things just haven't been the same. He's always busy and when he's not he chooses to spend time with his teammates instead which I understand but at the same time he's neglecting me and our relationship. I tried to bring this up but he shut me down and promised to spend more time with me which is how we ended up with this date but clearly it's not that important to him. 
Close to 3 hours later Jude finally came home and looked at me incredibly confused when he saw me all dressed up. 
"Where are you going?" He asked 
"On a date with you remember you said we would go out for dinner because it's Valentine's Day" I said 
"I'm so sorry baby I completely forgot this week has been crazy I promise I'll make it up to you another day but I'm so tired is a movie night instead ok" he said 
"Yeah its ok" I lied 
Birthday 
As always I woke up to an empty bed and Jude having left for training. Today isn't any normal day though it's my birthday so all my friends are coming over and we are going to go out for lunch together then hopefully Jude and I can do something together this evening even if it's just watching something together on the sofa. When I grabbed my phone from my bedside table I had loads of messages from friends and family wishing me a happy birthday and my social media was filled with edits done by Jude's fans which were all so sweet. The only notable missing thing was a text from Jude but that's ok he might've been running late and forgot. 
I forgot about Jude as soon as my friends arrived as they all spoiled me far too much but I had so much fun with them. It was nice to be distracted from real life and stop worrying about when Jude will be home, if he will remember it's my birthday or if he still cares about me at all. Once I got back home Jude's car was already in the driveway so I smiled and happily made my way inside to see him. I wasn't expecting Vini and Eduardo to be over but there they were sat on the sofa playing video games with Jude. 
"Hey y/n happy birthday" Vini said 
"I didn't realise it was your birthday Jude didn't mention it but happy birthday" Eduardo said 
"Thanks guys" I said 
"Where have you been babe?" Jude asked still not saying happy birthday 
"I was with my friends they took me to lunch" I said 
"That sounds fun" Jude said going right back to his game 
His friends tried to leave saying he should spend time with me but he said it was fine and that I wouldn't mind so they stayed. While they all sat down stairs having more fun than I was I did some work with tears streaming down my face. My own boyfriend doesn't care about my birthday his teammates cared more than he did. 
Anniversary 
"Happy anniversary love" I said when I found Jude in the kitchen this morning 
"Happy anniversary" he said 
I tried to give him a kiss but he dodged it and went to start packing his things as he has an away game later today so he's leaving soon. 
"I'm sorry baby I've got to go I'll see you later though" he said as he left leaving me all alone yet again 
~~~~~~~~~~
Today is a day I always like to forget. Both of my parents died in a car accident two years ago today so it's always an emotional day for me and my siblings, we would like to spend it together to distract ourselves but as I'm in Madrid we can't do that. Instead my friends invited themselves over so that I'd have someone with me which made me feel so much better. They came over early so early that Jude was still here as he hadn't left for training yet. He was doing his own thing as the girls all sat with me and let me get out all my emotions now by telling them memories I have with my parents. 
"You know they'd be so proud of you" one of my friends said 
"I just wish they were here to see all the things me and my siblings have done all thanks to their constant encouragement" I sniffled tears still falling down my face 
"Why are you crying babe?" Jude asked as he walked down the stairs 
"Just thinking about my parents it's the anniversary of their death so I'm just a bit emotional" I said 
"I'm glad the girls are here to make you feel better then I'll see you later ok" he said 
With that he left and my friends all looked at me with an expression I didn't quite understand.
"How long has he been like that?" My best friend asked 
"Like what" I questioned 
"Like you don't matter he didn't even hug you before he left even after you told him why you were upset which he should know anyway dates like this are important for partners to remember" she said 
"I mean it's been a good few months he missed our Valentine's Day dinner he didn't wish me a happy birthday until like 5pm and we didn't do anything on our anniversary" I said finally thinking about how badly he's been treating me
"Girl he doesn't deserve you he's taking you for granted and you don't deserve that" one of the girls said 
"I hate to say this but you need to break up with him clearly he's given up on your relationship and now I might be wrong but wrong but it seems to me like he's found someone else" another said
They were right for months now I've been at the bottom of his priority list and he's nowhere near the Jude I used to know and love. There is no affection there anymore it's like the love we once had is gone. He also has definitely been distant and he's never home so there is a possibility that he could be cheating on me. That's a thought that I'd put in the back of my mind and didn't want to think about but now that someone else that has mentioned it I can't let the thought go. Whether he's cheating or not things definitely aren't how they used to be and I need to get out of this relationship before it's too late. The girls all offered their support and said I can stay with them for as long as I need which gave me the confidence to actually talk to Jude later today. 
When Jude arrived home all the girls left and they wished me good luck which I definitely need as I'm nervous to actually have this conversation even though it needs to be done. Jude went straight to get in the shower so I decided to look at his phone because he told me the password but I have never used it as I trusted him at least until now. It took just seconds of looking for me to find texts between him and this one girl who he had clearly been seeing for months now. He kept saying he would break up with me but the time wasn't right yet and that he wasn't in love with me anymore which hurt to see. I wanted to cry but I held back my tears and instead just sent myself screenshots of everything and then deleted the evidence so he wouldn't know that I knew. 
After his shower Jude took ages to come back downstairs but when he finally did he was looking at his phone and smiling it made me wonder if he was talking to her the girl he'd apparently fallen for. He quickly noticed me staring at him and he just stared back not having a clue what was going on. 
"Jude we need to talk" I said 
"Oh ok is everything alright?" He asked 
"I'm just gong to say it I know what you've been doing and don't lie to me I have screenshots I just want to know when you fell out of love and why you did this instead of just ending things" I said barely holding back tears 
"I don't know it all just happened I'm sorry I should've handled this better I didn't want to hurt you but clearly I haven't done a good job of that" he said 
"Yeah you really have hurt me I should've known when you forgot about our valentines reservations but I was foolish and believed that you were just busy now I know you were with another girl" I said 
"I'm sorry" he said 
"I don't believe you Jude if you were sorry you wouldn't have let this go on for so long it's safe to say we are over I wish you well but please don't try and contact me again I need to just move on" I said 
With that I gathered my things and just left. I left my key, the memories and what felt like half my heart but it had to be done I had to get out of there before I got hurt any more. It's time to move on and start a new life with people around me who truly care about me. 
~~~~~~~~~~
1 year later 
"Come on amor let's go" Carlos called from downstairs 
"Coming" I said running down the stairs 
"Oh wow you look gorgeous" Carlos said 
"Thank you you look good too" I said 
He kissed my cheek and grabbed my hand so we could head out to the car that was outside to pick us up. Just a few days ago Carlos won the French open so we are going out to celebrate. I met Carlos not long after I broke up with Jude I wasn't even looking to date but I just happened to meet him on a night out with my friends and we just clicked. He understood that I wasn't ready to date properly but he didn't give up on me so when I was ready we went on a date and the rest is history. My plan definitely wasn't to date another athlete in fact I wanted to just have a normal life and date a normal guy but I couldn't just let Carlos go and I'm glad I didn't. We have been together officially for 6 months now and they have been the best 6 months of my life he always treats me right and he makes it known how much he loves me. 
Carlos has a lot of friends in Madrid so he decided to come here and celebrate his win with me and my friends as well as his before he goes back home to be with his family. There wasn't really any time to prepare anything so we are all just meeting at a club in town that isn't just open to the public so there shouldn't be lots of people there. All our friends were already there when we arrived as we got caught in a bit of traffic but they didn't seem to mind our lateness they congratulated Carlos on his win and we all went inside. 
As we walked down the stairs all my friends turned to me at once and I wondered what was going on for a second until I saw what they had seen. Jude was right there along with a few of his teammates. I haven't seen him since our breakup which is somewhat of a miracle seeing as I still live and work in Madrid and he has become part of the city. I knew one day we'd meet again I was just hoping it wouldn't be in a day like today I don't want to be thinking about him or to talk to him while celebrating Carlos as tonight shouldn't be about me or my past relationship. Carlos knows everything that happened so once he saw Jude his hand reached for mine and he gave it a comforting squeeze which made me feel a little bit better. The thing is I don't miss Jude at all I'm so much happier now but what he did still hurts me so seeing him for the first time since is a bit painful. 
"We can go somewhere else if you want" Carlos said 
"No it's ok tonight is your night plus he shouldn't affect my life now that's the past you are my present and future" I said 
"Ok as long as you're sure but you are sticking by my side all night" he said 
Jude's POV
"Is that y/n?" Vini asked 
Him saying that caught my attention so I looked in the same direction as him and there she was with all her friends and a guy by her side. I recognised the guy as Carlos Alcaraz the tennis player who just won the French open and a the guy y/n has been dating for at least the last few months. I found that out when late at night after we lost a big game I stalked her Instagram and saw a photo of them together on her private account that she forgot to remove me from. Since that night I have kept an eye on her Instagram I usually check it at least once a week to see what she's been doing and how happy she is without me. 
Since the night that she broke up with me I regretted making all the dumb choices I made that led to that point. Within days I broke things off with the other girl I was seeing and I have been alone ever since I just can't bring myself to see anyone else because they aren't y/n. It sounds stupid because I'm the one that ruined everything I'm the reason she's with Carlos and not me but she was the one I just didn't realise how much I loved her until she was gone. My mum has always told me not to take things for granted as once they are gone you'll realise their true value and that's exactly what I did with y/n I didn't realise just how important she was to me until I made some stupid decisions and let her go. 
I watched her with Carlos for a while and she seemed genuinely happy which made me realise that she hadn't been that happy with me for a long while before we broke up. It was clear to see that she loved him and I could tell that he loved her too because he looked at her the way I did when we first got together. It hurt to see her so happy with someone else because I know I could've had that but now I won't get to share any moment like that with her ever again. I deserve everything that has come to me I made bad choices and as much as I regret them now it won't change anything. 
I have to let her go because for her to be happy I need to not be in her life as much as that hurts. They say if you love her let her go and that's what I need to do let the one go because as much as she might've been the one for me I'm not the one for her. 
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moonlinos · 8 months
Text
Invisible string (pt. I)
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♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader / Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader
♡ Synopsis: With your terrible history of boyfriends during high school, you swore off love and vowed to get through university without a relationship. Things are great: you’re in your junior year, in an uncomplicated arrangement with a friend with benefits, and living in a nice sharehouse with two amazing roommates. But things begin to change once you meet Lee Minho, a student in your new class who vows to change your perspective on love.
♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, eventual smut, light angst, pining, jealousy, strangers to friends to lovers, friends with benefits
♡ CW: Swearing, sexual themes and discussions, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking
♡ Word count: 16.4k
♡ A/N: This is a three-part story because I can’t shut up. The second part will be posted sometime next week, and I’ll link it here. I’ve been writing all my life and have written for maaaany fandoms, but being on Tumblr as an active reader of SKZ fics made me want to write for them. So, yeah, guess this is what I’m doing now.
part II →
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You are woken up by Hyunjin shifting beside you on the bed. He groans, arm reaching to mess with your already closed curtains. You chuckle.
“You know, the curtains won’t close any more than that.”
“I keep telling you your bed is in a terrible position,” He grumbles as you turn to face him with a smile. “Who thought placing a bed right under a window would be a good idea? Mornings are fucking hell here.”
You shrug. “Well, it’s not my house so I didn’t exactly have a say in that matter.”
“I told you a million times I could help you move it.”
“And I told you a million times Mrs. Choi doesn’t like for us to mess with her furniture,” You explain, turning under the sheets so you could face him before bringing your fingers up to pinch his cheek. Hyunjin scrunches his nose. “Speaking of which, you need to leave. You know her rule: no—”
“No boyfriends spending more than two days at the house,” He interrupted you with an eye roll. “I’m not your boyfriend, though, so that rule shouldn’t apply.” He shrugs.
Hyunjin has been one of your best friends since you first met over two years ago. It was Hyunjin’s first college party and one of the many times your housemates had dragged you along on a night out. His friends had dared him to try and chat you up, arguing it would be hilarious to see him get turned down by an older girl. What they hadn’t expected, however, was for Hyunjin’s clumsy attempt at flirting to be so endearing to you; his pink cheeks and bowl-cut hair made him look like a helpless kid despite his height towering over you. Before you knew it, you had spent the entirety of the party talking to him about everything and anything, only stopping once your housemate Eunha emerged from inside the house to drag you home with her as she desperately tried to dodge a rather insistent guy’s advances. After that day, you and Hyunjin became almost inseparable.
You can’t quite pinpoint when you began hooking up. It was meaningless in the best sense of the word. It was simply something that had happened. All you can remember is that Jisung had recently bleached Hyunjin’s hair after yet another dare from his friend. It had started with cuddles, which turned to kisses, which turned to touches, until you eventually slept together for the first time sometime last year after an excruciatingly stressful exam period. It had never once gotten weird between the two of you; the line was always clear: you were just friends who hooked up due to convenience. Everybody had needs and stress and shit complicating their lives, and fucking your best friend was far more practical and safe than going out to look for a random hook-up whenever you needed it.
You find yourself smiling at Hyunjin once again. His now long black hair fell in his eyes as he stretched his arms over his head.
“Yes, you’re not my boyfriend, but how am I supposed to explain what we are to a little old lady?”
“Doesn’t she always say she’s super modern?” Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at you with a chuckle. “Maybe she’d like a situationship of her own and you’re depriving her of that by keeping this knowledge to yourself.”
You roll your eyes at his words, attempting to push him off your bed. “Why did you sleep here, anyway?”
Hyunjin sits up on the bed, a pout on his full lips. “I had a shitty date. I was sad and lonely. Glad to know you were paying attention to my story.”
“Hyune,” You sigh, ‘When you tell me said story while fucking me, can I really be blamed for not remembering anything?”
Hyunjin flicks your forehead lightly. “Yes, you can. At this point, it’s like our thing to vent about bad dates during sex,” He argues before getting up from your bed, finding his shirt, which had somehow been thrown over your study desk.
“You mean it’s your thing,” Correcting him, you get up as well, turning to fix up your sheets. “I don’t even go on dates and you know that. The only thing I vent to you about is how awful academic life is.”
Once you turned to face him again, Hyunjin was busy messily tying his hair. His brows promptly furrowed as he took in your words. “Remind me why you literally never leave the house again?”
“Just don’t want to get distracted. Getting my degree is more important than getting a boyfriend.” You lie with a shrug.
Your history with relationships was something you kept secret from everyone you met after high school. You feel embarrassed, as if it was all somehow your fault. After five failed relationships where you had been the one to be broken up with or cheated on, you began to accept that maybe the problem really was you. Maybe something about you makes men want to yell at and cheat on you. Perhaps you are just bound to be a distraction until they find someone better.
Which is why you don’t date.
Would anyone go through the hassle of reading a long, tedious book if they already knew about the bad ending?
Hyunjin rolls his eyes at your answer, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your degree isn’t going to keep you company when you’re eighty and alone.”
“Well, my degree isn’t going to wake up one day and suddenly decide to leave me either,” you refute, earning an annoyed groan from your friend as you walk past him to leave your room.
“You literally never have fun, though. All you do is go to class, work, and study. You should at least pick up a new hobby,” Hyunjin insists as he follows you, walking into the kitchen-living room area. “Go out more, stop avoiding college parties like the plague before it’s too late to experience the joys of watching your friend throw up on some random person’s couch.”
You make a face at the offers, grabbing your mug from the cupboard. “Why would I want to see that? Besides, I have hobbies.”
“I meant a social hobby. Sitting in your room watching fucking iceberg videos isn’t sociable,” He explains, and you let out an aggrieved gasp. Your iceberg videos were educational and entertaining, thank you very much. Behind you, your housemate’s bedroom door opens, and you turn to watch as she stumbles out of her room, looking half-awake. “Soojung, don’t you think she should get a new hobby?” Hyunjin addresses the blonde girl, who stares daggers at him.
“If I say yes, will you two stop speaking so loud?”
Hyunjin slams one hand on the kitchen counter, his other pointing a finger at you. “See, she said yes. You’re outnumbered, now you have to stop spending all your free time holed up inside your room.”
Soojung groans, stepping into the kitchen and shoving Hyunjin to the side. “He’s annoying, but he is kind of right,” she mumbles.
Truthfully, you did feel bad about having essentially wasted three years at university by actively avoiding parties and invitations any chance you got. The only parties you did attend, however, only served as an irritating reminder as to why you shouldn’t put yourself in those situations. Parties and bars only meant desperate college boys. Desperate for sex, for attention, for a potential relationship. For someone’s heart to break. You had met Hyunjin at a party, for fuck’s sake. Who knows just how south things between you two could’ve gone if he had become interested in you romantically?
But, as much as you hate to admit it, Hyunjin is right. Your life is essentially an endless loop of studying and working. You only socialize when your roommates are home, when your few friends come over, and when you and Hyunjin hook up. But you aren’t ready to step out of your comfortable bubble of avoidance, so you settle for the best thing you can think of.
As Hyunjin rummages through your fridge like he lived there and Soojung stirs her coffee blankly, you loudly set your mug down on the counter. “An elective course,” you announce.
The both of them turn to face you with the same puzzled expression.
“The fuck?” Hyunjin questions, and you roll your eyes.
“I’ll take an elective,” you explain matter-of-factly, “The university offers a lot of great courses in things I’m actually interested in. It’ll be a way for me to get out of the house without having to watch a friend of mine puke on a couch or whatever atrocity it is that you said.”
Hyunjin slams the fridge door closed, earning a scolding scream from Soojung, and walks over to where you’re standing. He pulls you into a tight embrace, and you can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “You’re such a fucking nerd, what the fuck, but I’m so glad your hermit life is coming to an end.”
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The elective course you choose is Japanese. It’s a language you’ve always been interested in learning, and while you know the class is merely introductory, you figure it will be fun to learn some phrases and expressions. You might even find yourself wanting to learn more in the future, and you’ll undoubtedly be glad you took this class during university.
Even if that means having to endure Hyunjin calling you a weeb.
You are able to begin attending classes a week after signing up; the lessons lining up with your work schedule to a T. The professor explained that, since you had joined the course late, you would likely need some guidance with phrases and words the class had already been taught. You didn’t mind, actually feeling excited in the morning despite your boring routine classes since you knew you would be doing something new you enjoyed in the afternoon instead of simply killing time around your house until it was time for you to work.
You walk into your first class ten minutes late, mentally cursing Eunha for being so good at telling stories about her weirdly entertaining life that it made it physically difficult for you to drag yourself away from her. You mouth a brief apology to your professor before scanning the room and scurrying over to the only available seat. 
You sit down in haste so as to not disrupt the class any further, swinging your bag over your chair and accidentally knocking over your seatmate’s water bottle all over his side of the desk. Luckily, the bottle lands on the soft surface of his notebook, barely making any noise. Unluckily, said bottle had been filled with coffee, staining his notes a faded brown color. You silently gasp, instinctively reaching out your hands to fruitlessly try and dry the pages that are now sticking to each other.
“I am so sorry, what the fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you continue to inspect his notebook frantically. “I’ll buy you a new notebook and another cup of coffee as soon as class ends, I promise,” You whisper to him, your eyes boring holes into the stained pages as you watch the bitter liquid slowly dissolve some of the black ink. At this point, you’re rambling out of nervousness, but you can’t seem to stop, adding, “Hell, I’m so angry at myself for what I did I’d bind you a new notebook and brew you some fresh coffee myself.”
You mentally berate yourself for your word vomit. It was just your luck that you would make someone hate your guts on the first day you attended a class.
After what feels like minutes of silence from him, you are prepared for the imminent burst of rage bound to come your way, the guy’s wrath more than likely stirring inside him as he sits beside you and watches as you foolishly shake the piece of paper, hoping it will miraculously return to its untainted state.
However, what you aren’t prepared for is the small burst of laughter that leaves your seatmate’s lips; it’s quiet, but you’re close enough to him to be able to hear it.
You furrow your brows, finally mustering the courage to look up at him for the first time.
“Did you…” You trail off. You feel a strange sensation inside your chest as your eyes meet his. It was something you had never felt before, a small burst of a fluttering that briskly washed over you before disappearing just as quickly. Like a pinwheel was placed inside of you and a strong wind had suddenly started blowing. You shake your head, returning to the matter at hand. You are probably just experiencing some anxiety due to what has happened, you argue mentally. “Did you just laugh at me?”
As you finally take him in properly, the guy before you looks as dazed as you felt just now, courtesy of your minor panic attack; his lips agape and his round eyes blinking while his dark pupils are fixed on you. You two remain that way for a few seconds in an impromptu staring contest that causes the peculiar feeling to bloom inside your chest once again.
When he finally speaks, his voice is soft. “You… offered to bind a notebook for a stranger,” His lips twitch into a grin. “It was a little funny.”
You open your mouth but promptly close it, unable to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make you appear like more of an idiot than you already do. You sigh. “Sorry,” you mumble, your voice low as well. “I say stupid shit when I’m nervous.”
He waves his hand dismissively. “It’s okay. I’m—”
“You two, on the back,” your professor calls out in a louder voice, however still keeping her calm demeanor. You and your seatmate turn to look at her. “I’m going to teach a few new phrases useful for traveling now. How about you two talk after class? This is actually quite perfect. Minho is one of my best students, so he could help you catch up to where we are.” She offers the two of you a small smile, and you feel your cheeks burn.
This class wasn’t mandatory, and you didn’t need it to get your degree. It is still a class, nonetheless. Ever since high school, you’ve always hated people who disrespect their professors by brazenly talking or sleeping during class.
“I’m sorry, professor,” You muttered. Beside you, your seatmate — Minho, as he was just called — scoots closer to you and whispers something you don’t understand under his breath. You look at him, confused. He chuckles, and you feel his breath on your cheek. It makes the odd fluttering return.
“Gomenasai,” He repeats more clearly, his voice louder, “It’s ‘I’m sorry’ in Japanese.” He offers you a smile, and you soak in just how good-looking he is. Ever since you first raised your head to look at him — when the pinwheel inside your chest rapidly spun and unexplainedly made you feel nervous — you knew he was a handsome guy, but his soft smile and calm eyes made him look even more annoyingly pretty.
Before you’re able to do it yourself, your professor speaks again and pulls you out of your trance.
“In this case, Sumimasen would be a bit more appropriate,” she corrects Minho, who clicks his tongue and mutters something under his breath. The woman chuckles at his reaction. “It’s okay. This is also something you can explain to Y/N after class.”
As the class went on, you couldn’t help but notice how Minho didn’t take any notes. Your mind latched onto how you ruined his notebook and how it was your fault that he couldn’t properly study during today’s class, so you couldn’t find the courage to offer him some paper so he could take notes.
After almost an hour of unrelenting guilt swallowing you up slowly, you place your hand on Minho’s shoulder as soon as the professor announces class is over after assigning the students a small written assignment.
“We could talk outside? If you want,” you offer him, feeling the now-familiar nervousness come back, making your mouth speak faster than your brain can even think to rationalize, “There’s a bench I really like outside this building. It’s a good spot. There’s a nice shade, and it’s secluded enough that people don’t bother me when I’m studying. Or googling how to bind a notebook.”
Minho lets out a brief chuckle. “Okay. I would love to talk on your favorite bench.”
You blink at him. “I don’t have a favorite bench.”
“Hm, it sure sounded like it. You listed some good attributes of that bench,” He argues, a grin etched onto his lips.
“I told you I say stupid shit when I’m nervous.”
He raises an eyebrow at your words. “You’re nervous?”
“Of course I am. I never bound a notebook before.”
Minho lets out a hearty laugh this time, his head thrown back and his eyes turning into crescent moons before he shakes his head. He picks his notebook off the table, showing you the crinkly light brown-tinted pages. “It’s dry now. I actually kind of like it, gave the pages a sort of vintage vibe. You don’t have to bind me a new notebook,” He reassures you, placing the small book into his bag. “As much as I would love to see how that would turn out.”
And just like that, your nervousness fades away. You smile at Minho, asking that he follow you over to your favorite bench.
The two of you talked for almost two hours. During that time, Minho helped you catch up with the vocabulary and phrases you had missed in class. When you asked him how he was able to know so much off the top of his head, his lips curled into a crooked grin as he sheepishly told you that he had been taking Japanese lessons since he was in high school. He explained that because he procrastinated signing up for an elective course, the advanced class was full by the time he got to it, so he decided to go for the introductory one instead. You chuckled and questioned why he would choose to spend his time on a course when he already knew everything being taught. He shrugged and explained that it was nice to have at least one class in which he didn’t have to try and that the fact that it made him feel smart also helped.
Not even your shift at work was able to make your conversation stop flowing, as Minho offered to walk with you to the coffee shop upon realizing it was near his apartment.
That was one of the many coincidences and things in common you found to have with each other that day.
It started with ordinary things like the fact that Minho had three cats back home just like you and how he had been collecting plushies since he was a child, while you had started your own collection as soon as you had access to money of your own. Or how your favorite authors were Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë — Minho swore you would die if you saw the special edition books he had back at home.
Then, it became a bit more amusing as you found out that Minho had worked at a convenience store chain when he first finished high school, and it was the same one you worked at for your first job after starting university. And you both had worked there for exactly a year and two months before quitting. You then told him about how you ended up attending this university after your top three choices turned you down, and his choices were the same as yours. And just like you, he also got rejected by his top three options, which led him to attend the same university as you.
You two couldn’t hide your bewilderment, eyes widening and lips bursting into laughter as these linked facts kept spilling out during your conversation. It was strange, you thought, but in a comforting way. It was almost as if you two had been living weirdly similar lives, all while having no clue about the other’s existence.
The two of you approach the small coffee shop while talking about your degrees. You try your best not to bore Minho with your ‘existential crisis-inducing psychology talks,’ as Hyunjin always put it, and you mostly listen to him as he talks about programming. He tells you that his dream is to develop cozy games that people can jump into without much thought, simply to relax. He says he knows how stressful life is and that people sometimes need something they can mindlessly do to get their minds off of shit. You resonate with it more than you care to admit, as cozy idle games are one of your favorite things to do while locked inside your room.
“So I do these freelancing gigs to make money but I’m actually set to start my first quote-unquote real job in two weeks,” he beams as you two stop in front of the coffee shop. Minho’s eyes lit up the moment he started speaking about his degree, and although you didn’t understand most of the terms he used, it is always endearing to watch someone talk about something they’re so passionate about. “There’s this guy who’s graduating soon who recruited me and a friend for a project he’s working on, so it’s not technically a job and we’ll work in his living room. I’ll still get some money and the chance to actually develop something, though, so it’s better than nothing.”
You smile at him. “If you like programming as much as your words led me to believe, I’m sure it won’t even feel like a job.”
Minho’s ears turned a faint shade of pink, and he scratched his head. “Sorry, I talked your ear off about shit you don’t even understand.”
“I think everybody likes to hear people talk about things they like,” you assure him, “It was a good talk. I still can’t believe we have so many things in common. It was kind of funny how they kept coming up.”
Minho chuckles, bouncing on the heels of his feet. “Guess the universe is giving us signs that we should be friends.”
“It seems like it.”
That day, you work with a persistent smile engraved on your lips. You can’t remember the last time you felt so good about meeting someone new. Despite your awkward first encounter, you found that talking to Minho was as easy as talking to an old childhood friend. It felt refreshing. The last friend you made was Hyunjin — whom you were so grateful to now for pushing you out of your comfort zone — and after that, you had unknowingly closed yourself off.
Minho had managed to open up your mind to the idea of letting someone in almost comically fast. And you loved that.
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It’s been a month since you’ve been attending Japanese classes, and your studying sessions with Minho — which always turned into long conversations on what now had really become your favorite bench — were a weekly appointment, much like having him walk with you to work twice a week.
Today, however, Minho stopped you with a hand on your shoulder as you made your way toward your usual spot. When he asked you if you would like to study at his favorite bakery today instead, his eyes rapidly blinking as he looked at you through his bangs which had grown to slightly cover his eyes since you met him, you just couldn’t say no. He stammered as he promised that the place was even closer than the one where you worked, so you wouldn’t be late for your shift.
You smiled at his apparent nervousness, finding it endearing. You knew all too well how stressed you felt when offering something new or initiating plans with a new friend, and Minho seemed to be the same.
“Good thing you made this offer today, on my day off,” you bumped shoulders with him. “It’s almost like you knew.”
You begin walking, and Minho gently pushes you to the side so that he’s the one walking on the edge of the side of the sidewalk. You shoot him a questioning look, and he blinks at you again.
“Sorry, force of habit,” he chuckles, “My mom taught me a guy shouldn’t let a girl walk on the street side. I know it’s old-fashioned and probably made me seem like an ancient guy who wouldn’t let his wife work or something. Sorry.”
You shake your head. “No, it’s kind of sweet. I never had anyone do that with me.”
You feel the pinwheel twirl inside your chest again.
The two of you approach a familiar building together. You furrow your eyebrows as you take in the floral curtains on the windows and the pretty font adorning the store sign of your favorite bakery. You think about how it would be nice if you two came here on another day. Maybe you could use that opportunity to finally introduce Minho to your other friends.
You only realize Minho has stopped walking when he calls out your name. When you turn around, he’s standing in front of the bakery with a smile.
“This is the place.” He points toward the white door with a nod as you return to where he’s standing.
No fucking way.
“This is your favorite bakery?” You ask, although it is a stupid question. Minho nods. You play with the strap of your bag. “Okay, this is starting to sound ridiculous, but I swear I’m not lying. This is my favorite bakery, too.”
Minho’s eyes widen at your words, and his lips curl into a smile again. “Shut the fuck up.”
“I will not,” You chuckle.
Minho opens the door and the two of you walk inside, the familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods bringing back great memories you made in this place. You often come here with your two roommates; it’s close enough to both your house and university that you can skip out on taking the bus, the atmosphere is always relaxing and comforting, not to mention the delicious cakes they sell. You smile to yourself as you remember Eunha scuffing down far too many slices of their chocolate cake after a nasty breakup a couple of months ago, tears streaming down her face so violently that the poor little old man who owns the shop appeared to check up on her.
“Their lemon cake is my favorite.”
“The lemon cake is what made me—”
You and Minho speak concurrently, with you unable to even finish your sentence before you both freeze for a couple of seconds in front of the only small table available at the crowded shop.
He’s the first one to move, pulling out his chair a bit awkwardly. “We should…” He trails off before clearing his throat as you sit down before him. “Should really make a written list of things we weirdly have in common.”
“At this point, I think it’d be easier if we made one of what we don’t have in common.”
You two settle for the obvious choice of two pieces of lemon cake with a cup of coffee for him and a glass of cola for you. Minho almost looked offended when you informed him that you hate coffee, wondering out loud why you even worked at a coffee shop before ensuring he could change your mind with just the five amazing facts about coffee he thought about off the top of his head. You shrugged him off with a grin. You couldn’t deny the irony of being a barista and having to make endless cups of a drink you despised daily, but you were sure Minho could never change your mind about coffee.
You two talked about your improvement in Japanese in the last month until the waiter returned with your order. Minho insists you’re a natural and could be on his level in a couple of years if you tried, but you roll your eyes at his compliments. You’ve never been naturally good at anything. That wasn’t about to change now.
“You know,” Minho begins once the waiter steps away from your table, looking around the coffee shop. People slowly started to leave as it got later in the day; the place was now much quieter, and the atmosphere even more cozy. “I used to think I would meet somebody in a place like this.”
“Like, in a romantic sense?”
Minho hums, still looking out to his side. You notice his side profile is really pretty, and you have to hide your smile by sipping your drink.
When he returns his gaze to you, he’s the one smiling. “Yes, in a romantic sense. Like being destined to meet someone.”
“Look at you, a hopeless romantic,” You roll your eyes with a chuckle. You never thought of Minho as someone like that. He seemed rather methodical, always following a routine and too engrossed in his codes to be preoccupied with something like love.
Minho furrowed his brows. “Why the eye roll?”
“I just don’t believe in that stuff,” you shrug with a small smile, “Stuff like destiny, soulmates, love…” You trail off, taking your spoon and poking the slice of cake in front of you. “Love has the awful tendency of being bad.”
Of course, you once believed all those things. Doesn’t everybody? But love has shown you time and time again that those are things reserved only for some people. And, clearly, you are not one of them. So why believe in it?
“It’s the most amazing thing in life,” Minho’s voice almost startled you as you were so deeply entranced in your thoughts.
You don’t lift your head to answer him, instead drawing mindless shapes on the icing on top of your cake.
“What is?”
“Love,” He replies in a soft voice. When you finally look at him, you’re surprised to find Minho’s deep eyes already looking at you, a small smile adorning his lips. “Love is the most amazing thing in life.”
You freeze.
You tear your eyes away from him, gaze focusing on the plate in front of you again.
You were careful with your rules. No parties, no bars, no talking to your male co-workers unless absolutely necessary, and no male friends unless they were in a relationship or proved beyond a reasonable doubt to only be interested in you platonically — which was what Minho was. So, why did him bringing up love make you feel so nervous?
Under the table, you unwittingly bounce your leg. This was stupid. Minho has been your friend for a month now; you see each other twice a week, and you talk for hours, always so comfortable around each other in a way that is still so new to you. He has never flirted with you or treated you in any way that led you to believe that he wanted anything more than to be your friend. You will not let your foolish trauma ruin what was proving to be an amazing friendship. He was simply sharing his thoughts on a topic. That’s all love was: a conversation topic.
You force out a chuckle as you snap yourself out of your senseless panic and look up at Minho once more. “We can just agree to disagree?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, something you can’t quite pinpoint swimming in his deep eyes as he looks at you. Instead of breaking the silence, he scoops up a piece of cake with his spoon and raises it like a glass. You shake your head with a giggle as you realize what he’s doing, toasting your spoons together at the center of the table before you both eat your spoonfuls of cake.
“You know,” He speaks as soon as he’s done eating, his eyes having never left yours. “Love can never be bad. I don’t think so, at least. It never makes anything worse. It can only ever make things better.”
You hum and shift in your seat, lowering your gaze toward the table. The truth is, you hate talking about love. That — coupled with your shame regarding your past relationships — is the reason why you never indulge in this type of conversation, even with your own mother. But years of swallowing down your thoughts and opinions whenever the subject was brought up only caused a buildup of emotions in your throat. So much so that you only realized you were talking once you were midway through a sentence.
“Love can make so many things worse,” you affirmed, your eyes following the polka-dot pattern on the tablecloth, “Losing someone is bad enough, but put love into that equation, and it just worsens tenfold.”
Minho nods. “By that logic, you can say that having someone by your side is always good, but if it’s someone you love, it makes it better tenfold, right?”
You let out a chuckle as you realize you two could go back and forth about that subject for ages.
But it felt good to finally speak out your feelings on the matter, so you continue, “Love can’t be that great if people can so easily fall out of it and for so many different but equally stupid reasons. You’re suddenly not attractive to them anymore, or you have different opinions, or they love picking fights but hate it when it’s the other way around…” You trail off, swallowing down a lump in your throat as you speak out of experience. But Minho didn’t need to know that. You lift your eyes. “Not to mention falling in love with a new person all while supposedly already being in love with someone.”
“That’s not genuine love,” Minho shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, as if it was his first time hearing of such things happening. “Real love is unconditional and understanding. Real love makes the person you love beautiful simply because they’re them. Real love doesn’t allow you to hurt the person you love because it feels like you’re hurting yourself as well.” His expression softens, and his eyes lock onto yours. “And real love makes it so that you can only see the one you love. You can’t possibly fall in love with someone else if you’re truly already in love.”
You gnaw on your bottom lip, nodding slowly. You hate the fact that part of you is desperate to believe that what Minho said was true. And you hate it even more that an even bigger part has already dismissed every single word that left his lips.
Desperate to shift the subject from Reasons Why My Exes Left Me — which only leaves you feeling sad and pathetic — back to Love Is Amazing, you decide to try and lighten the mood.
“Okay, but then explain to me how love is so great when you can just have sex with anyone, and it feels the same either way?” You question him with a teasing grin on your face. Minho shakes his head with a smile and eats another bite of his cake. You continue, “Be it a stranger at a party you met ten minutes ago or the love of your life, sex will always be sex. Therefore, you’re wrong, mister Love-Makes-Everything-Better.”
Minho chuckles around his mug, eyes closing as he almost spits out his coffee. His eyes are like crescent moons when he looks at you again, clearly amused by your words. “Well, yeah, of course, sex will always feel good no matter who you’re doing it with. It’s sex, and sex feels good,” He shrugs dismissively. “But sex with love is different. You aren’t just fucking, just fulfilling your own desires selfishly. Love makes sex better because you feel good simply by making the person who’s so important to you feel good. It makes you want to melt into the other person and become one with them because close isn’t close enough when you’re in love.
“Touching them feels like a gift, like heaven. Tasting them feels like heaven. Hearing their voice in their most blissful state feels like heaven. The trust and connection you feel in that moment is heaven, and that’s only possible through love. You can have sex with anyone, but you can only make love to someone you love, and those are two different things. That’s how love makes sex better. Therefore, I’m not wrong.”
As you take in Minho’s words, spoken so casually, like it was common knowledge, they leave you speechless. You watch him as he smiles triumphantly when he realizes you aren’t going to refute him — because you can’t refute him.
You berate yourself mentally as you notice the familiar feeling of arousal wash over you as you repeat his words inside your head. Not because it was Minho who said those things, but simply because that kind of sex sounded so good. Good in a way you had never once experienced before. Like heaven, as he had put it.
Your experience with sex has always been simply about fulfilling desires. You thought that was all there was to it.
Until now.
And even so, with your ex-boyfriends, it was always unbalanced. Ninety percent about their pleasure and only ten percent about yours. The first time you had a guy go down on you was the first time you had sex with Hyunjin, and by that point, you had already had five boyfriends. It felt weird when it happened, and you remember Hyunjin whining about how you didn’t have to ask him every five minutes if he was really okay with doing that. It had always been different with him, the good kind of different. He had never been selfish during sex; if anything, Hyunjin was too much of a giver, sometimes forgetting about his own pleasure in order to focus on yours. You thought that was the best sex you could ever have.
Until now.
Because, even with Hyunjin, there was never a genuine connection. It never felt like a gift to touch him and have him touch you. It was never anything more than sex, more than something you both did because it felt good and it was easy. He slept in your bed, and he cuddled you until morning came, but it had never once felt anything close to what Minho described.
You can’t help but wonder if Minho has ever experienced that. You desperately want to ask him, but you two aren’t close enough for that yet.
You also can’t help but wonder why you spend the rest of the evening raging a war against yourself as your mind is consumed with thoughts of what it would be like to experience that kind of sex with him.
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It’s late in the night on the following Saturday, and your phone incessantly vibrating under your pillow rudely demands your attention just as you’re about to fall asleep. You squint your eyes as you type in your password. You sigh as you see Hyunjin’s name on your screen because of course it’s him.
Hyune: I’m outside open the door Hyune: please open the door? quick? Hyune: mrs. choi is gonna kill me if I use the intercom pls I don’t wanna die Hyune: I’m in my pajamas do you know how humiliating this is
Hyune: and I’m highkey pissed off Hyune: I WILL sleep on the bench outside your house if you don’t let me in and then I’ll die and who’s gonna live with the guilt? Hyune: you Hyune: OPENM TEH DOOR
You roll your eyes at his dramatic texts, stepping out of the comfort of your bed and padding across the floor as quietly as possible so as not to wake up your roommates. You open your front door and speed past the hallway and Mrs. Choi’s home, reaching the outside door in record time. It’s something you’ve done more times than you care to admit in order to let Hyunjin into your house. Your tenant was a sweet woman, insistent that she was modern and understanding of ‘young people’, but she despised people coming into your home any later than midnight.
You step outside, finding Hyunjin pacing back and forth like a creep in front of your house. True to his words, he stood in his checkered pajama pants and a black t-shirt. His hair was in a ponytail, the strands messily sticking out everywhere like he had tossed and turned in bed before coming here.
“You look like shit,” you speak up, causing him to jump and let out a gasp. You chuckle as he scowls at you, climbing the few steps to reach the door.
“I had a fight with Mingyu,” he grumbles as you two walk toward your front door. “He told me I spilled paint on his favorite shirt, which is fucking impossible since I don’t even paint anywhere near his shit.” 
“I mean, you are a messy painter.”
Hyunjin shoots you a look as you close your front door behind you. You take off your shoes and walk toward your bedroom in silence. This was routine. Hyunjin knew the rules: no knocking on the outside door, no buzzing the intercom, no shouting from outside, keep your voice down in the hallway, no talking until you reach your bedroom. It was all automatic at this point.
His voice is louder when he speaks again inside your locked bedroom. “First of all, I am not a messy painter. The paint is messy, not me. Second of all, if Mingyu wasn’t a fucking idiot, maybe he wouldn’t leave his favorite shirt on the floor of the living room right by my art corner,” Hyunjin huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, “If that’s how he treats his favorite shirt, I feel bad for his girlfriend.”
You let out a chuckle, which is cut short by him pulling you into his arms. “Hyunjin, that analogy makes no sense.”
“Yes, it does. You treat your favorite shirt like shit, you treat your girlfriend like shit,” he states matter-of-factly before pulling you into a kiss.
This was routine. It was all automatic at this point.
Hyunjin kisses you like he’s angry. Because he is, and that’s one of the reasons why you two do this. You let out your frustrations during sex. You complain, and you let off steam until you both feel okay again. It’s been this way for a year and some months now, and you never once thought anything of it. It was beneficial for you both, so why change or question it?
But that was before your talk with Minho. Before you were awoken to the truth that you’d been having meaningless sex your whole life.
When you’re pulled away from your thoughts, you’re already laid in your bed with Hyunjin hovering over you. His lips and hands wander through your body as he mumbles things you can’t quite understand; you can only make out your name and Mingyu’s mixed with curses. You try to bring yourself back to the moment, bringing your legs to wrap around Hyunjin’s waist and bring him closer to you.
He stops kissing your neck and yanks his shirt over his head, his hair untying in the process and falling on his face like a curtain. You giggle and try to fix it with your fingers. Hyunjin pouts.
“Don’t you think I’m right?”
You frown and hope he can’t see your confused expression in the dim lighting. You truly weren’t paying any attention to what he had been saying, too engrossed in your thoughts and too busy feeling sorry for yourself. Hyunjin’s tendency to tell you about his frustrations during sex always left you a bit puzzled, but it was also oddly sweet. It was like he trusted you so deeply as a friend that he believed he could share anything with you, no matter the time.
So you nod, lightly pulling at his hair. “Of course you’re right.”
He hums and buries his head on your chest, grinding his hips into your clothed core. “Of course I’m right,” he mumbles under his breath.
Everything is a blur after that, your mind insistent on repeating Minho’s words like an annoying echo. When Hyunjin’s tongue fucked you hastily, and he murmured something about you tasting so good, all you could hear was Minho’s voice telling you how tasting the person you love feels like heaven. When Hyunjin pushed his cock into you, his hands gripping your thighs and head buried in your neck, all you could think about was how this sex paled in comparison to what you could’ve been having — what you could have already had — if only you weren’t so damn unlovable. 
You knew that Minho didn’t intend to make you feel bad with his words. They weren’t targeted at you. But that didn’t stop your mind from sabotaging and putting yourself down. It was one of your biggest talents, after all.
Your body was present and responsive the entire time; you moaned because it felt good, and you kissed Hyunjin because you wanted to. But you were mentally somewhere else.
And the worst thing is, you’re a hundred percent sure Hyunjin doesn’t even notice it.
Because this wasn’t love. This was only sex.
And this was all you had ever known.
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Time flies by faster than your brain can comprehend; before you know it, another month goes by. You only managed to go to your favorite bakery with Minho one more time before your work hours were changed, your shift now starting a mere thirty minutes after your Japanese class ends. He still walked you to work twice a week, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t upset you to have to let go of your weekly talks.
Minho also became busier due to his own job. With so little time to see each other face to face outside of class, most of your talks took place over text. He talked about his job with so much adoration it made you a little jealous; his partners were now simply friends he worked with, and his joy over finally being able to create a cozy game made it so that he pushed himself over his limit, often sleeping on his friend’s couch after working until four a.m. and getting through the next day on excessive amounts of coffee.
That was how you two came up with the idea of Minho dropping by the café where you work to pick up coffee for him and his friends. He would drop by at least twice every day, his friend’s house — which also served as their office — only one bus stop away.
The first time Minho came by, he had his wallet and phone in one hand, a sharpie and a block of sticky notes in the other. You eyed him curiously as he scribbled on the piece of paper while your co-worker prepared his coffee. When he was done, he stuck the note to the monitor in front of you on the counter. You furrowed your brows as your eyes shifted from the Japanese words on the bright yellow note back to Minho’s smug face. You were certainly grateful he at least had the courtesy of including the romanization of whatever he had written down. Not that it helped you in any way.
“Since our studying sessions after class were rudely taken from us, this is your extra homework. It’s all words we already learned. You just gotta think a little bit, and you’ll figure it out. You’re smart, I know you can do it,” He assured you.
Expect you weren’t that smart and ended up giving up by the time you got home that night. The piece of paper was no longer sticky on the border due to you carrying it around all day, boring holes into it as if that would magically give you the answer. You snapped a picture of it as you got ready for bed and sent it to Minho, begging him to put you out of your misery and simply give you the answer. ‘I want to drink coffee,’ he replied. You slapped your hand over your forehead with so much force you were sure the entire house had heard you. He was right; you did learn that in class. Curse the Japanese language for being so difficult.
After that, it became a routine. You waited expectantly for Minho’s visits daily, but you are extra excited today. It’s a Friday, and your birthday is tomorrow. After much pestering from Eunha, you agreed to have a small gathering at your house. It only made sense to invite Minho; he’s become one of your closest friends in the two months you’ve known him, after all.
As he walks into the coffee shop, sticky notes and sharpie in hand, you chuckle to yourself. You two chat about the development of his game, with Minho kindly using layman’s terms when explaining it to you. He also tells you about how one of his friends got so frustrated with a code that he threw his phone at a wall before immediately regretting it and crying on the floor next to Minho’s desk. Before you can get worried, he assures you that it’s just an ordinary day at the office, and the three of them end up laughing everything off at the end of the day.
After taking his order, you watch as he begins writing down your homework for the day on the small piece of paper in his hand. As you look around the coffee shop, most tables are empty, and the sun is starting to set outside the glass doors.
“You wanna come over this Saturday?” You ask Minho, who looks up at you before adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. That was one thing you learned about Minho since he began coming over: he wears glasses. Not every day, but enough times for you to notice how good he looks with them. But friends find each other attractive all the time, you justify it. “You never came over to my house, and my roommates really want to meet you. Plus, it’s my birthday tomorrow.”
Minho’s eyes widen. “Your birthday? And you save that information to the end?”
“It’s not a big deal. I usually never even celebrate.” You shrug lightly. You’ve never been big on birthdays, as you just don’t see the reason why it’s supposed to feel different from any other day of the year. “But my roommate pestered me to do something this year, so I agreed to have a party.”
Minho shifts on his feet. “I… really hate parties…” He trails off.
“It’s not a party party. I promise!” You hold up your pinky finger. “It’s more of a get-together, just my roommates and my only two other friends. And, you…” You trail off, “If you come.”
Minho blinks his eyes a couple of times before tearing the piece of paper he was writing on from the pad and crumpling it in his hand. He quickly jots down something new and sticks it to your forehead.
“Minho!” You scold him, to which he laughs, his nose scrunching and eyes crinkling. You advert your gaze from him as your persistent thoughts regarding how unfairly pretty Minho is begin to flood your brain once again. You take the note and analyze it:
はい (Hai)
You smile as you understand the word, looking up at him.
“I’d love to come to your birthday party,” He beams. “Thank you for inviting me.”
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To say Minho is nervous would be an understatement.
He gets out of his car twice, ready to march back inside his friend’s apartment like a coward and pretend that nothing happened both times. Only when he thinks back to how you smiled at him when he agreed to your invitation does he find the courage to start the car and drive to your house. He’d noticed for a while now how much he likes you. But it was when he agreed with the idea of going to the café you worked at to pick up coffee that it truly dawned on him that he really liked you. Minho hated taking the bus, he hated doing anything other than zoning out on the couch during his breaks, he hated bustling shops, and he hated how his co-workers both managed to have such intricate coffee orders.
Yet he agreed to that idea, even suggesting he drop by two times a day.
He noticed he’d felt a familiar small whirlpool inside his chest whenever he was with you, when he heard you talk about something you liked or saw you smile. He’s also noticed that this tiny whirlpool has been growing bigger and bigger the more he’s been around you.
But that doesn’t scare him. Minho loves love. He loves to be in love, to love someone, and to make that person feel loved. It’s his favorite thing about life. If he was honest, he missed it so much he didn’t know how he was able to live without it.
Just down the block from your house, he parks his car and gathers his phone and his present for you — clearly clumsily wrapped, even with his co-workers’ help. He feels another wave of nervousness wash over him as he approaches the house; he’s an hour late and needs to mentally prepare to socialize with people he’s never met before. Minho chuckles as he realizes a silly party makes him more nervous than the prospect of possibly falling in love.
You open the door almost as soon as he rings the intercom, and he walks down the hallway into your house door; the crooked box he’s been holding makes his hands sweat. The first thing he notices as you open the door is your styled hair with a big white bow on the back, looking much prettier than the ugly bow he and his friends managed to stick on top of his present. He smiles at the sight and scratches his ear in a futile attempt to stop them from turning red.
God, he really liked you, didn’t he?
“Thank you for coming,” you tell him with a smile. Minho notices the quiet music playing inside the house, the simple decorations, and the cake on top of the kitchen counter. He mentally sighs in relief. This truly wasn’t anything like a big party. “You’re wearing your glasses again,” you point out as Minho walks inside and removes his shoes. He subconsciously reaches his left hand to touch his wire-rimmed glasses that sit on his nose bridge. He grimaces and curses at his friend for making him stay later than he was supposed to today.
“I had no time to go home and change,” He apologizes, fingers now toying with the stupid bow on top of the box. “I usually wear contacts, but they make my eyes dry if I stare at the computer for too long, so I just… wear my glasses at work…” Minho trails off, suddenly feeling stupid, his eyes looking anywhere but toward you.
You chuckle, lightly touching his glasses for a second before moving away again. “You always come to the coffee shop wearing them, and I think you look really good,” you assured him. His eyes quickly met yours, only for you to advert your gaze this time. “You should wear them more often.”
Minho only hums, lightly nodding his head. He feels stupid all over again as the image of himself throwing his contact lenses down the drain crosses his mind.
Clearing his throat, he finally hands you your gift. You giggle at the mismatched wrapping paper and poor excuse of a bow, which makes Minho let out a chuckle and murmur an apology. You open the box, and your eyes light up when you spot the stuffed bunny you have been raving about since you two met. It was the only animal missing from your collection, but you couldn’t find the right time to save up money to buy it. Minho didn’t need to ask if you liked it as he watched your smile grow bigger as you looked at the brown bunny.
“Come, I gotta put him in my bed now,” you beamed and took Minho’s hand in yours, leading him to the living room. There, five people sat on the couch and on the floor. Minho furrows his brows as he takes in a head of light brown hair covered by a familiar beanie. “These are my friends. Eunha’s the girl with short hair on the floor, and Soojung’s the one with blonde hair next to her. They’re also my roommates,” You point at them as you speak. “That’s Jisung sitting next to Soojung; he’s also her boyfriend. And then Hyunjin, with the long hair, sitting next to Chan on the couch. Everyone, this is Minho from my Japanese class.”
With that, you pad off to your room with your bunny in tow. As Chan finally turns to look at Minho, his shocked expression mirrors his. They stare at each other for a while before Chan finally breaks the silence.
“What the fuck, that’s my co-worker.”
Minho narrows his eyes. “So this is why you had to leave an hour earlier today?”
As you come out of your room, you chuckle. “Chan is your co-worker?” You ask Minho, “I can’t believe this. He’s been our friend for longer than I’ve known you. He came like a package deal when Jisung began dating Soojung.”
“Damn, dude, you hate me so much you never talked about me to your friend?” Chan gasped, a hand over his heart. “I’m hurt.”
Minho rolls his eyes but is unable to stop a small grin from forming on his lips as the entire living room erupts in laughter. “Of course I talked about you. I talked about you and Seungmin all the time. It’s just I…” Minho shifts on his feet, shrugging. “I never said your names.”
More laughter seeps out of the group of people, including Chan, and Minho finds himself laughing along this time, shaking his head at his own stupidity. 
He sits beside Chan on the couch while Hyunjin heads to the kitchen with you. He quickly asks him how he came to be friends with you in the first place. Chan explains that he’s been in a class with Jisung for almost two years, and the boy had always pestered him about ‘old people’ needing to hang out with people their age. That’s how he ended up meeting Soojung as soon as she became Jisung’s girlfriend. You and Eunha were an inevitable addition, seeing as you were not only roommates but also great friends.
You offer Minho a beer, which he declines. As much as he wanted to, no beer was worth having to take the bus back home. He silently sips his cola as he watches your group of friends chat. You end up sitting beside him on the couch, your friend Hyunjin to your right.
Minho finds that he missed getting together with people like this and didn’t even realize it. His only friends were left behind back at home, and although they were less than an hour away by bus, their busy lives prevented them from meeting in person. Minho’s favorite memories from his teenage years were having his friends over and just doing nothing for hours, talking about stupid shit until their stomachs hurt from laughing. Eating takeout on the couch with Chan and Seungmin after work came close, but they were always too tired and too stressed to entertain the idea of making jokes. Those were times when Minho realized he had really become an adult.
Jisung’s loud voice suddenly booms through the living room and startles an already drunk-looking Eunha, who murmurs something about the younger boy giving her a heart attack one day. 
“I’m bored,” he grumbles, draping his body over Soojung. “Let’s play spin the bottle.”
Soojung rolls her eyes at him, flicking his forehead. “Are you a teenager?”
Jisung pouts, sitting up straight once more. “We’re in university. University students play this fucking game all the time,” he states matter-of-factly. “Don’t make me regret falling for an older woman.”
“Jisung, I’m only three years older than you, I’m not—”
“Don’t make me call you noona.”
Soojung inhales deeply before turning to face the people sitting on the couch, placing one of the empty beer bottles scattered around her feet on top of the coffee table. “Let’s play spin the bottle. But let’s do dares instead of kissing, that’s too boring.”
Jisung beams, cuddling close to her like a needy child. Minho chuckles at the sight.
Eunha scoots closer to the couple so the group is seated in a circle around the coffee table, half of them on the couch and half on the floor. Minho never had the chance to play spin the bottle, which seemed to be such a staple game of one’s teenage years. By the time his friends were off sneaking into clubs and drinking behind their parents’ backs, he was already in a committed relationship and well aware of the fact that he didn’t enjoy parties.
It seems silly, but he’s glad he won’t live past his youth without experiencing such a trivial thing.
Soojung spins the bottle, and the neck stops facing Chan while the bottom faces Jisung.
“Take your shirt off,” Jisung waves a finger at Chan, who looks somewhat disoriented. Minho chuckles under his breath just as you do the same. You two face each other and let out a hearty laugh, your arm coming to rest on his bicep before retrieving back to your lap faster than Minho hoped it would.
Soojung squishes Jisung’s cheeks and places a small kiss on his lips. “You’re such a fucking chaotic bisexual,” she giggles, “Y’know, Chan, Jisung has had the biggest crush on you since you two first met.”
Chan shakes his head with a stifled laugh and proceeds to remove his shirt, neatly placing it on his lap.
Jisung is next to spin the bottle, this time landing on Soojung, who you dare to show her most embarrassing text. After showing the group a string of texts showing raunchy screenshots of a manhwa she’d been reading at that time, all sent to one of her class group chats which included some professors, she lets out a heavy sigh and orders Eunha to spin the bottle before any questions can be asked.
This time, the neck faces you while the bottom faces Eunha herself. With a smile, the short-haired girl dares you to kiss Minho.
He feels his smile drop at the very second the words leave her lips. This was not what he had in mind for tonight.
“What?” You sputter, “Why?”
Eunha shrugs, adjusting herself so she’s seated upright and staring right at you. “Well, he’s the only one here who would be actually fun to see you kiss. Jisung and Soojung are okay with each other hooking up with other people, so that’s no fun,” she explains, using her fingers to list her reasons, “I’m not into girls, so that’s no fun for me. Hyunjin is too obvious. We all already know Chan, so it would also be boring. Minho is like fresh meat. That is fun.”
Minho’s brain begins finding a suitable excuse for why you two can’t kiss, because he’s certain you have no interest in doing it. Not only are you friends, but your reaction didn’t exactly exude excitement at the prospect of kissing him. Just as he’s ready to lie through his teeth, you turn to him and place your hand on his shoulder, a touch so soft he’s barely able to feel it through the fabric of his shirt.
“Is this okay with you?” You ask him, the tone of your voice so sweet Minho feels like it melts his every thought until his brain is nothing but a sugary pool filled with only you. So he nods because god, yes, this is okay with him.
You gingerly place your right hand on his cheek, bringing your faces closer until your lips press together. The whirlpool inside his chest spins fast, like a vortex dragging every sense of his body toward you and only you.
You remain still for a few seconds, Minho’s eyes opening slightly to search for any sign of regret on your face. Before he can even properly look at you, your lips begin to move against his — gently and carefully, like you’re not sure if this is what he wants. Minho deepens the kiss and hesitates three times before committing to placing his left hand on your waist. The giggles around the two of you nothing but a muffled murmur to him. He presses another kiss to your lips, his body shifting until he is all but caging you against the back of the couch. But just as he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, you push him back with a smile, Minho chasing after your lips.
He blinks a couple of times, eyes zoning into your smudged red lipstick. He subconsciously bites his own bottom lip, wondering if any of the color transferred to him. The surrounding murmurs bring Minho back to the moment this time, awkwardly clearing his throat before lifting himself off of you and sitting upright on the couch. He tunes out every comment regarding the kiss to the best of his abilities, focusing his energy on slowing down his heart rate. When he catches you giggling while looking at him, your arm touching his bicep yet again, he nods, grabbing his cola bottle from the floor and taking a sip.
Minho can’t remember the last time kissing someone got him so worked up. He entered a long-term relationship at such a young age that he’s only now realizing how unaccustomed he is to kissing someone new, to the rush that comes with having your lips pressing against the ones of someone you like. It was exhilarating and a bit terrifying all at the same time. He was awkward, unsure where to put his hands, uncertain if you were enjoying yourself. He was also greedy, wanting the moment to last for much longer than it had.
This had cemented the fact that he does, in fact, really like you.
After kissing you, the whirlpool living in his heart had now fully transformed into a tiny hurricane — with great chances of growing even bigger.
Minho only notices the game has continued upon hearing your voice complaining beside him. He watches as Soojung shrugs.
“It’s the only thing I could think of, sorry.”
“But why?” Hyunjin asks, placing his cup on the coffee table. “It’s a stupid dare.”
The blonde girl scoffs. “No, it’s not. I’ve had to basically live with you two for the past year, and it’s common knowledge how easily you get a boner for her.”
“Not true,” Hyunjin retorts, although it sounds more like a question than an affirmation.
Eunha blurts out, “You once got a boner watching her stir a cake mix.”
Hyunjin opens and closes his mouth before groaning, pulling you into his lap by the waist. You apologize to him quietly, to which Hyunjin shakes his head with a small smile.
Minho feels as if he’s intruding on something private.
You sit on Hyunjin’s knees, almost falling off his lap as you clearly try to keep some distance between the two of you. Hyunjin clicks his tongue and pulls you closer to him until your back is pressed up against his chest. He whispers something in your ear, to which you lightly slap his arm as his lips upturn into a grin.
Minho is definitely intruding on something private.
At some point, you turn so you’re sitting across Hyunjin’s lap, your body now facing Minho. He can’t help but watch with dark eyes as the younger boy’s hands wander through your body; playing with the buttons on your blouse, squeezing your thighs, and caressing your skin a little too close to the hem of your skirt. He furrows his brows as he tries to understand your relationship with Hyunjin, seeing as you’re obviously not put off by his hands on your body.
Minho is so transfixed by the sight and his racing thoughts that he only realizes the game has ended when someone taps his shoulder from behind the couch.  When he looks back, Chan is holding a cigarette and motioning towards the stairs that lead to the house’s terrace.
In the chilly open space above the house, they sit on a bench behind a tall vertical planter. Minho wonders who tends to the garden as he observes the various flowers, as well as some vegetables and herbs scattered around him. The terrace is small; the garden taking up all the space, an old wooden railing that overlooks the quiet street the only other thing in his sight.
He and Chan chat about school and work, as they often do nowadays. After Chan recently broke up with his girlfriend, Minho found that his friend had become much more closed off, so the list of subjects they would talk about became minimal. Chan bites his thumb before taking a long drag of his cigarette. He chuckles when he mentions being scared of graduating next year. Minho bumps his shoulder with him, arguing that being in his situation is worse. He admits that he regrets starting university late and that being in his first year when he should already be in his third is discouraging. Chan dismisses his worries, reminding him of how Minho is often the one to fix broken codes and come up with ideas for their game whenever Seungmin gets stuck.
“A degree is just a piece of paper,” Chan says, throwing his cigarette butt at a nearby trashcan. “You’re already a fantastic programmer, Minho.”
“You’re just saying that because I saved your ass today.”
Chan shrugs. “You’ve saved my ass basically every day since we started working together.” After a beat of silence, he asks, “Why did you start uni so late, anyway? You never told me.”
Minho hums, digging his brain for a way to sum up the entire story. “It’s complicated—”
He’s interrupted by footsteps on the stairs leading to the terrace. A loud giggle echoes through the open space before you and Hyunjin step into their field of vision. The long-haired boy holds you from behind, and you two stagger toward the railing.
“Wish everyone would go home already so I could just fuck you,” Hyunjin whines as he turns your body around so you’re facing him. Minho almost chokes on nothing at those words, and Chan stifles a laugh with his hand. He curses the small space as they’re able to so clearly hear everything you’re saying.
You playfully kick Hyunjin’s shin. “Don’t say it like that, Hyune, what the fuck.”
“It’s true, though,” Hyunjin continues, pressing you against the railing. He towers over you, so the only thing Minho can see from where he’s seated is your white skirt floating in the wind behind the tall boy. “I had a stressful, terrible, awful, dreadful week. All I kept thinking about was coming over and relaxing with you.”
“See, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so awful.”
Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “There’s nothing awful about fucking. I know how much you like it, don’t act so coy.”
Minho watches as your hands clench around Hyunjin’s gray shirt, pulling him closer and kissing him softly, much like you had done to him a few moments before.
Minho presses his lips into a thin line. He connects every dot available to him inside his head and suddenly feels pathetic.
Hyunjin being too obvious of a choice for you to kiss, his hands all over your body, his words about fucking you, the way you kissed him like it was a habit.
If you had a boyfriend, why did you agree to kiss him?
The words swarm Minho’s brain. He vaguely recalls you and Hyunjin eventually walking out of the terrace. Chan starts a one-sided conversation about one of his classes, with Minho humming after every couple of sentences to appear like he’d been listening when his head is too busy wondering how to feel about everything.
Minho recalls Eunha walking up the stairs and shouting for the two of them to come downstairs to sing you happy birthday. He recalls Hyunjin’s hands wandering through your body throughout the song, his lips pressing small kisses on your face and lips as you smiled. He recalls feeling confused, stressed, jealous, and pathetic.
Minho is only truly back to the present moment once Chan’s voice bids him a loud goodbye, and the door slamming behind him makes his senses finally return to him. As he looks around, he notices that the only people left in the living room are Jisung, Hyunjin, and you. Beside him on the couch, Hyunjin stretches with a loud groan.
“I’m gonna take a shower. D’you have any of my clothes in your room?”
You sigh from where you’re sitting on the floor, resting against the television stand. “Of course, I do. You’re always living shit behind, you’re like our third roommate at this point.”
Hyunjin chuckles, walking over to give you a small peck on the lips before disappearing into your room. Minho gnaws on his bottom lip with a bitter smile as he realizes Hyunjin will sleep over at your house. The ugly feelings return as he remembers his thoughts about you these past few weeks when he unknowingly cultivated too big of a crush on you. Even on his way here tonight, when he had chuckled to himself at his lack of nervousness in the face of potential love.
Love.
Minho can’t help but wonder why your view of love is so negative when you’re in a relationship. And, at the same time, he doesn’t dare to think about it for too long, fully aware that his foolish affection-filled brain will come up with a myriad of reasons — all where your boyfriend is the sole culprit for your distaste — and Minho knows better than to let those thoughts linger for too long inside his mind. He knows himself all too well, knows only awful shit would come out of assuming things about your relationship; the urge to beat Hyunjin senseless for being a shitty boyfriend and making you think that way about love being the worst of them.
“I’m too drunk to go back to my dorm,” Jisung suddenly speaks, his eyes glazed over as he stares ahead. “Gonna crash here tonight, too.”
Minho takes that as his cue to leave.
You walk him outside, a small smile on your face the entire time. He feels guilty not being able to reciprocate the gesture. As you tell him goodbye, thanking him for coming, you pull him into a hug. You hadn’t hugged much since you met, and Minho foolishly wants to draw you closer to him, to feel your body pressed against his just as it was pressed against Hyunjin most of the night. But he can’t do that.
“Are you okay to walk back by yourself?” You ask him as you pull away.
Minho nods, forcing out a small smile. “My car is parked just down the block.”
“That’s why you didn’t drink!” You exclaim with a giggle, “I forget that most people our age already drive. My anxiety didn’t allow me the chance to even try and get a license, so I just accepted my fate of taking the bus.”
“I could drive you…” Minho trails off. There he goes again, being pathetic. “If I have the time… You can give me a call and I’d be happy to drive you anywhere.”
You smile at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another embrace. Minho smiles genuinely as he buries his head in your hair.
The drive back home has Minho feeling stupid all over again as he thinks about how you’re probably in bed with Hyunjin by now. The whirlpool is back inside his chest, but it isn’t good or welcome this time. It’s agonizing and painful.
Love had never been painful. Love had never been bad.
But he had never experienced love toward someone who already loved somebody else. Although you brazenly state that you don’t believe in it, you must feel some type of love toward Hyunjin if you’re willing to be his girlfriend.
As he silently drives home, Minho finds himself agreeing with you.
Maybe love can be bad, after all.
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Minho feels stupid.
This has become a constant in his life.
He had always thought of himself as a logical person. Programming had taught him that everything is predictable and fixable if you work on it hard enough. A broken code? It may take him six hours of staring at the computer to figure out it was nothing but a missing semicolon, but he will get there in the end. It was annoying and frustrating, but it was always something easily fixed.
He thought love was like that. It had always been like that with him.
Until he fell for you.
Minho was coming to terms with the fact that maybe love and programming were nothing alike. Love isn’t predictable. Loving someone who is already in love with someone else isn’t easily fixed. He can’t backspace and delete your boyfriend from the equation.
It’s been a little over six months since you two first met. Minho has consistently gone to the café you work at every day, and you two still had endless talks over text messages. You talk about everything and anything, from silly things like sharing pictures of both your growing plushie collections or your love of that particular coffee shop’s lemon cake to more serious topics like how Minho learned how to cook when he was twelve so his mom wouldn’t have to do it by herself, and now his roommates take advantage of that, or how sad you are that next year you will have to leave the house you’ve grown to love so much.
But, whether it is in person or through text, you still avoid the topic of love. You don’t ever bring up Hyunjin unless he’s part of a story you were already telling, and Minho feels his heart heavy as he slowly allows himself to imagine what it could be that led you to hate love so much.
He desperately wants to ask you, know your reasons, and make sure you’re happy with your boyfriend. But he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries and doesn’t know how to go about it without scaring you. So he never does anything, like a coward.
Minho finds himself coming over to your sharehouse on most weekends since summer break ended. Your countless get-togethers at that house have become a hard-to-break habit. Hyunjin, Jisung, and your roommates are always assured to be there, with Chan joining whenever he isn’t overwhelmed with work or school, which was rare.
Minho had always been a hopeless romantic, always doing things for love that people repeatedly warned would result in regret. This time, it was forgoing visiting his parents and friends back home just to spend most of his summer with you. Despite not being able to pursue you in the way he truly wanted to, Minho still wanted to be your friend. You were still a fantastic person he loved to have around; that didn’t change simply because you had a boyfriend. Although he could feel a bit of his heart cracking every time he had to see you, all while knowing he couldn’t do anything about his feelings for you.
He couldn’t change your perspective of love if he weren’t allowed to love you.
In all the time he spent at your house during summer break, he ended up becoming good friends with Jisung, as you tended to stick next to Hyunjin most of the time. Minho didn’t mind it; he is your boyfriend, after all. At least, that’s what he repeats to himself every night he comes over like a mantra as he almost masochistically forces himself to watch how Hyunjin kisses your lips and caresses your skin or how you play with his hair and snuggle with him on the couch. He also endures the countless nights he’s left your house knowing all too well that Hyunjin would be spending the night with you in a way that Minho can only ever dream about.
Tonight, in particular, Hyunjin seemed to be all over you like bees on honey, buzzing around you everywhere you went, his hands never leaving your body as he pulled you closer to him every time you even slightly pulled away. Because god forbid your bodies not be touching in some way for even a split second. Before he knows it, Minho is downing his third bottle of beer of the night.
From where he’s sitting on the couch, Minho rolls his eyes as discreetly as he can while he watches Hyunjin pull you to sit on his lap on the floor as you all get ready to play a game of cards. He gnaws on his lower lip because he knows he’s being petty and borderline childish. You’re Hyunjin’s girlfriend. Of course he’s all over you, of course he wants to be close to you, of course he wants you on his lap. Minho concludes with a bitter chuckle that he is, indeed, pathetic when it comes to you.
He gulps down more of the awful-tasting cheap beer.
The night comes to a close after far too many rounds of Cards Against Humanity, with Jisung winning more than half of them. His ethics and morals fly out the window the moment the cards are handed to him, as he manages to create the most absurdly offensive phrases known to men every single time. Minho found himself groaning and yelling at the younger boy as the alcohol took over his system. He doesn’t know how much of it was simply his annoyance at Hyunjin clinging to you like a koala throughout the entire game disguised as competitiveness.
He doesn’t think he’d like to know either.
Like every night he comes over, Minho is the last person to go home. He has to call an Uber, far too buzzed to want to sit at a bus stop all alone at this time of night. He hadn’t even noticed how he kept downing his drinks until he felt the familiar buzz of inebriation wash over his body a while before the game ended. Although slamming his fist into the coffee table with a whine about how he had only been given lame cards should’ve been a sign.
As he waits outside your house by the fence, he suddenly hears the door shut behind him and your voice calling out to him. He smiles at the faint slur of your speech and the way you drag out the last syllable of his name like you always did when you were a bit drunk.
“I told you to wait for me!” You reprimand, opening the gate to stand next to him. “Look how lonely you look here all by yourself.”
Minho just shrugs with a smile, shaking his head. He did wait. He waited almost half an hour after announcing he should leave as you disappeared into your room with Hyunjin. He was still waiting, in fact, only mindlessly scrolling on his phone for the past ten minutes instead of finding a ride as he hoped you would come outside when you saw he wasn’t in the living room anymore.
You poke his shoulder, bringing his attention away from his phone to your smiling face.
“Tonight was fun, wasn’t it? Especially that last round when Hyunjin won after being tied with Jisung for the whole game,” you grinned, “Seeing Jisung make a whole damn case about how much better his card was really made my night. Think that’s the first time I’ve seen him act like a law student since I met him.”
Minho chuckles, bringing his attention back to his phone. Seeing your smile and how your eyes light up while you talk about something you like brought back the whirlpool inside his chest, which wasn’t a pleasant feeling any longer. It made him glum to think how a once beautiful feeling had turned into nothing but discomfort simply because he was lovelorn.
He hums. “You must be proud to have your boyfriend put an end to Jisung’s annoying winning streak.”
“What do you mean?”
Minho looks up from his phone, eyes wandering through your puzzled face. He furrows his brows for a second. Maybe you’re both drunker than he’d thought.
“I mean, it must’ve been nice to see Hyunjin win after Jisung basically made us all want to quit the game,” he explains, watching as your expression turns from confusion into shock before you let out a loud laugh.
Minho’s eyes widen, worried your laughter might wake up your neighbors. He gently shushes you, his arm grabbing your shoulder, but your smiling face only makes his lips stretch out into a grin. He suppresses a giggle as you catch your breath, shaking your head.
Minho smiles at you so fondly he’s certain he looks like an idiot. “What’s so funny?”
“Hyunjin isn’t my boyfriend,” you explain like it’s obvious. “We’re just friends. I thought you knew that.”
Minho only then realizes he had never once heard you refer to Hyunjin as a boyfriend, nor had any of the people around you. But his assumptions weren’t so ill-judged, either. You two acted like a couple. It wasn’t so absurd to assume that you were one.
He finds himself staring at your amused face for a few seconds before forcing himself to turn his attention back to his phone.
You acted like a couple, but you were just friends. Minho groaned mentally.
“So, you’re like friends with benefits?”
“Yeah… I don’t particularly believe in love anymore, Minho. I thought you knew that from our talk a while ago,” You chuckle, shifting on your feet. “Hyunjin is one of my best friends. We just hook up ‘cause it’s convenient.”
Minho hums, his fingers ghosting over his phone screen. “Sounds like you’re running away from love.”
He blinks a couple of times as he takes in his own words. He would have never said such a thing if it hadn’t been for the liquid courage flowing through his veins.
You shrug, moving to sit on the white bench just outside the house. “Well, yeah, that is what I’m doing. Love hasn’t been kind to me at all. I have no interest in going after it, only to be hurt again. It’s a movie I’ve watched before and I hated the ending every time.”
Minho bites the inside of his cheek, finally clicking the button to find a ride, his thumb pressing on his phone screen more forcefully than he intended. He felt angry. You didn’t deserve to settle for a friend with benefits due to convenience. Had you wanted to be in that situation, it was your every right to do so, but you were in it out of fear of being hurt.
He felt sad. He wished you didn’t equate your past experiences with love to everything it could be. Bad experiences in love were possible for everyone — even for him, who used to believe unwaveringly that love could never be hurtful — but that didn’t mean it was all there was to it. Minho desperately wanted to show you that. The good side of love, the side that made him put it above everything else in his life on so many occasions, the side that made him crave it even now when it hurt more than it felt good.
And, strangely, Minho felt relieved. It was a small percentage of the chart of current emotions he was experiencing, but prevalent nonetheless. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he felt happy Hyunjin wasn’t your boyfriend and, most importantly, that you weren’t stuck in an unhappy or toxic relationship, as he had so often feared.
His ride arrives, and he’s overcome with a wave of courage. Minho would much rather live with regret than with a constant ‘what if’.
Shoving his phone inside his pocket, he offers his hand to you, who looks up at him curiously from where you’re sitting on the bench before taking his hand. Minho pulls you to your feet and hugs you. With his hand on your waist, he pulls your body closer to him, finally holding you tightly the way he’s always wanted to do. He presses a kiss to your head, bringing his lips to your ear and whispering, “I’m gonna change your mind.”
He feels your body shake with a chuckle, but he only tightens his hold on you.
“What?”
“About love, I’m gonna change your mind,” He answers matter-of-factly, “You deserve to feel love without being afraid.”
Minho pulls back from the embrace just enough to see your face, and he’s surprised to find you smiling up at him. He smiles back.
“I will change your mind.”
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Minho had just dropped you off at your house, ready to drive around aimlessly until he absolutely had to go back to his dorm, when Seungmin texted him.
Kim Seungmin: hey my sister’s engagement dinner is tonight Kim Seungmin: and i might have fucked up something in the code i was working on so now there’s a chance that you fish 100 rare fish at once 🤪 Kim Seungmin: pls pls do me a solid and fix it before chan sees it and kills me? Kim Seungmin: love you hyung 💚
Minho initially groaned at the messages, thinking of the many ways in which he could murder Seungmin and get away with it. But, ultimately, he didn’t want to go back to his dorm anyway, so he gladly turned his car around. If he was lucky, this would take hours and he would have a valid excuse to crash in Chan’s cramped living room.
He punches the code to the front door and his friend greets him with a puzzled expression.
“I forgot to do the, uh, troubleshooting for this week,” Minho blurts out. It’s the first lie he can come up with, and he hopes it’s convincing enough. Chan nods slowly. Seungmin might have saved him from having to endure his roommates on a Saturday night, but he still owes him.
“It’s all good,” Chan says with a sigh, “I’m most likely gonna pull an all-nighter designing these new characters. Anyway, how did you waste your time today?”
Minho has been taking you on what he likes to call Subtle Dates for a month now.
Chan affectionately calls them Waste of Time Dates.
Minho rolls his eyes, sitting down on his own desk. “We went to Han River and walked around till sundown, then watched the Banpo Bridge water show.”
Days like today were rare, so Minho was happy. Most weekends, it seemed as if the whole world was conspiring against anything he planned with you.
“Oh, how romantic of you,” Chan gasps, feigning amazement. “Did you at least kiss her this time?”
“You know I can’t just kiss her like that. I know she’d freak out if I tried to do anything romantic with her,” Minho taps his fingers on his desk, knowing he sounds ridiculous. But he has a plan. He just hopes this plan actually works out soon. “I don’t mind being patient.”
He hears Chan scoff. “So, you took her on another one-sided date and then drove her home so Hyunjin can fuck her?”
Minho’s fingers stop tapping on his desk, his hand coming down to slam on it before he can stop himself. He lets out a heavy sigh, and Chan mumbles an apology. But, the truth is, he knows his friend is right. Just last weekend, Minho dropped you off straight into Hyunjin’s arms, the younger boy waiting for you to come back in front of your house.
And Hyunjin wasn’t the only inconvenience that rendered it almost impossible for the two of you to spend time together. Minho had to cut most of your dates short due to Chan calling him about something urgent that only he could fix at work, or you canceled altogether because your roommate was upset and you didn’t have the heart to leave her alone like that. There were also times when Minho was too tired to even go out at all, like on the day of his birthday, which resulted in you coming over to Chan’s apartment and eating cheap takeout food with him and his two friends.
Minho found himself dealing with countless bumps in the road when it came to finding a way into your heart.
“I didn’t mean to say it like that,” Chan says hesitantly, “You clearly like her a lot.”
Minho repeatedly opens and closes the code he’s supposed to fix. He sighs. “I like her more than a lot, and I don’t even know when that happened.”
“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” His friend explains, his face disappearing behind his own computer screen. “I just can’t see what will change if you go on dates with her when she doesn’t even know they’re dates and if she’s just gonna go home and have sex with someone else. I don’t get it. What difference does it make?”
He can hear Chan scoffing, although he tries to disguise it by clearing his throat. Minho shakes his head.
“It makes all the difference because that’s not love. I wanna show her what love is, and that it isn’t always bad. I promised her that I would.”
Chan sighs, sliding his chair toward the mini-fridge by the couch. “Agree to disagree?” He asks, grabbing a bottle of water and tossing it in Minho’s direction. He grabs it mid-air, just before it hits him in the face, and clicks his tongue.
“Agree to disagree.”
Minho plugs his headphones into the computer, drowning out the noise of Chan’s pen sliding across his iPad with his brown noise playlist. But he can’t drown out the obstinate thought ringing inside his head, screaming at him that Chan is right.
Taking you out on dates — which you don’t even know are dates — doesn’t really make a difference if you’re just going to go back to your convenience with Hyunjin at the end of the day. If you think you’re just friends going out together, and you go back home at night to the comfort of sex without the love you’ve been running away from for so long, what Minho is doing truly is useless. 
It’s just like when he argues with Seungmin through their codes, screaming at the younger boy in all caps about something that’s broken, even though he knows he’s going to be the one who will end up having to fix it.
Minho’s fingers come to a halt on the keyboard.
Closing his work, he opens up Google and finds the first flight he can to Japan. Almost as if he’s on autopilot, and his brain is completely shut off. He books the flight and the cheapest hotel he can find, using almost all the money he’s saved up to move out of his hell of a dorm. It might be the most idiotic thing he has ever done in his life, but he’s so in love it hurts him. And he loves love, and love with you — the thought of that alone has his heart beating at his throat. He doesn’t want to keep on with these futile attempts at trying to make you see that love is good and that, maybe, love can be good with him.
The truth is, he feels scared. Maybe even more scared than you do. He is terrified of knowing the answer, of finding out that maybe he could change your mind about love but that it would simply lead you to someone else’s arms and he would have to endure the pain of unrequited love until it inevitably faded away with time.
Minho would gladly live with that pain if it meant you were happy.
But he needed to know.
He adjusted his glasses — a childhood nervous habit that returned after he started wearing them more often since you complimented him months ago — and retrieved his phone from his backpack.
He typed and deleted more times than he’d like to admit.
Me: Hey, it’s late sorry  Me: Just wanted to know if you’d be up for a trip to Japan? Me: In two weeks Me: For study purposes Me: We’d finally have the chance to use what we learned in class lol Me: Chan was supposed to go with me but he has a family thing so he can’t anymore Me: Everything’s already paid for and he said he doesn’t mind if you go in his place Me: Lmk what you think
Minho’s fingers typed as his brain came up with excuses and lies, sending more messages than he needed to. He couldn’t tell you he booked a whole damn trip with you just to see if maybe, possibly, you have feelings for him too.
He all but throws his phone across his table after turning on Do Not Disturb. He’ll need to muster up the courage before reading your answer, and having his phone buzz for anything that wasn’t your reply would just be torturous. He felt stupid, would feel even more so if you turned down his invitation. He almost doesn’t want you to answer, wants to pretend he never even sent anything.
Because it was stupid.
But love is stupid, and he is in love.
Worst-case scenario, he’s stuck with Chan in Japan for a weekend while he laughs at him.
Best-case scenario, he spends a weekend with you in Japan. No letting you go back to another man at the end of the day, no more hiding that he is taking you out on dates, no more distractions, no more inconveniences of your daily lives.
Minho opens the code he was working on again, quickly typing out:
// NOTE: Minho will fix this.
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0cta9on · 7 days
Text
And We Danced
Length: 1.1k words
Genre: Angst
Nmixx Lily x Male Reader
(Author's Note: Wrote this for a prompt thingy hosted by @mintwithchoco! Inspired by this really pretty song, do give it a listen if you have the chance :])
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【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★
“...and then he just brushes past me and immediately gets on his game!” Lily huffs, pacing around your room. “Like, I get that he’s tired and all that, but at least a ‘Hi’ would be nice!”
A song you don’t recognize blasts from your speaker, fiery and tumultuous to mimic the current emotions of your friend. With how often she comes over to your place to rant about her boyfriend, it’s a wonder how she doesn’t have a consistent playlist.
“What do you think? Am I just overreacting?” she asks, slumping onto your mattress.
You shake your head. “Not at all.”
“Really? Because if I’m being crazy, I need you to tell me.”
“I know when you’re being crazy, but this isn’t one of those times.”
Lily chuckles before scooting next to you and resting her head on your shoulder. You swallow down the thoughts and words that threaten to burst from your chest, potentially ruining this good thing that you have. Things are fine. Calm down.
“What should I do now?” she asks, her words floating through the open air between the transition of songs. The next song brings in slow, melancholic piano chords paired with a heartbreaking story of unrequited love. Lily’s head sinks deeper into your shoulder like the weight of the lyrics is pulling her down and you’re her only means of support.
You should break up with him.
“You should talk to him,” you say, breathing steadily. “You said that this started happening recently, right? Maybe something happened to him and he just hasn’t told you yet. Most guys are stupid and don’t like talking about their feelings and all that mushy stuff.”
“Talk to him. Right,” she sighs. “You make it sound so simple.”
You shrug. “Things are always more difficult than they seem. It really depends on him for this to work out. You’re doing the best you can, and if he can’t see that then… maybe you should—”
Lily’s phone buzzes from across the room, prompting her to jump towards it with the desperation of a lost puppy finding its owner. Her warmth is stripped away from you in an instant, and the impending cold becomes a grim reminder that it was never yours in the first place. 
Her expression immediately sours as she checks the notification.
“Is something wrong?” you ask, worried.
“No.” Lily’s shoulders slump as she tosses her phone back on your desk with a resounding thud. “Bae just wants me to get her some ice cream on the way home.”
You fail to stifle a chuckle, earning an icy glare from those perfectly round eyes.
“I feel like I’m going insane.” She throws up her hands in exasperation. “What if I just end it all and jump off a cliff?”
“You definitely shouldn’t do that. How else will Bae get her ice cream?” you quip.
“Ha ha, very funny.”
The last bit of sunlight fades past the edge of your window just as the music dies down to give way to the next song. From the first note, you’re left reeling as memories of thumping heartbeats and unattainable closeness flood your mind like a tsunami. Flashing lights, the linoleum scent of the gym floors, your dad’s tie that your mom made you wear, every single excruciating detail of that night comes crashing down in an instant.
The night you cherish deeply, yet regret the most.
“Oh. My. God!” Lily yanks your arm, nearly pulling it out of its socket from sheer excitement. “Get up!”
“W-what?”
“Do you not remember this song!?”
“I-I, uh…” Of course you remember it. There hasn’t been a day that’s passed where you don’t think of what that damned song entails.
“Sophomore year homecoming! We slow danced to this song together! How could you forget that!?” She pouts at you, and it takes every facial muscle you have not to immediately burst out into the dumbest smile.
Without hesitation, Lily pulls your arms around her waist and intertwines her fingers behind your neck, and suddenly, you forget how to breathe, how to think, how to function like a regular human being. 
“I-I think I remember this song,” you stutter, not quite meeting her eyes.
You find yourself being transported back to that sophomore dance as the two of you sway to the beats of the music. Lily rests her head on your chest just as she did back then, and you wonder if she can hear your heartbeat as it races from the proximity. You wonder if she can hear your thoughts, what she would think about how every corner of your mind is occupied by her. You wonder what would’ve happened if you had done something, anything differently that night, if a couple words were the difference between dancing here as lovers or as reminiscing friends.
Say something. This is your only chance. After this, she’ll be gone forever.
Yet, just like that night so many years ago, you stand quietly like a fool, damning yourself to an eternity of forever staying out of her reach.
“That was fun,” Lily giggles as she steps away from you, her fingers lingering in between yours. “I should probably head back though, it’s getting kinda late.”
“Um, yeah, sure.” Regretfully, you let go of her hands and walk her to the front door, trying to not let your mess of emotions reveal itself in your expression.
“Maybe we can hang out again tomorrow! If you’re not busy of course.”
“I’ll have to check my schedule, but yeah, I would like that.” Of course you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow. Even if you did, you’d move Heaven and Earth just to spend another moment with her.
“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow!” Lily pulls you into a hug like she always does and you fight off every urge screaming at you to keep her close.
“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Long after the door shuts behind her, all you can do is stand there, motionless, like life suddenly stops mattering when she’s not around. This is all your fault, really. It shouldn’t be a surprise that guys would line up for an inkling of a chance with her; in fact, you could fill up entire libraries with books describing how perfect Lily is in every single way, forever pondering how a single glance can fill you up with so much joy and sorrow that it threatens to drown you. You had more than a decade head start, you should’ve been the first one in line.
And yet, your own cowardice got in the way.
Again. And again. And again.
That song plays in your head once more, its melody haunting yet comforting. In a perfect world, the two of you would be able to dance all night to a song that never stops.
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