#honestly when this school year ends I think I might come back and pick up on my old tumblr habits but I’m not completely sure

[ja3yun]

To, Future You | S.JY

sim jaeyun x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), fingering, spitting, body worshipping, whimpering and whiney jake, mutual pining, confessions, mentions of alcohol, anti-men in some parts, not proof-read anything else lmk! wc: 16.1k synopsis: in your fourth year of secondary school, your home room teacher made you write a 'to future you' letter to someone in your class. while you had no idea who to write it to, sim jaeyun knew exactly who would receive his letter. he just never expected it to actually come through 10 years later. a/n: hi! so this was something that has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while. i saw a tiktok that was someone writing a confession letter and ten years later receiving it so that is the inspo (pls if anyone knows it please send me the link so i can tag it!) i hope you enjoy this, after i post this i am taking a little break and stepping back so i can focus on my heeseung series! there might be some random fics here and there but i wont be posting as much (sorry!) as always, feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments are all welcome <3 ilysm

Your phone vibrates on your cluttered office desk, a blessed interruption from the mundane chore of sifting through emails. With a sigh, you pick it up, expecting yet another spam message or discount offer. However, as you enter your pin and swipe down the notification, your curiosity piques, and your posture straightens instinctively, uncrossing your legs and firmly planting both feet on the ground.

The screen displays the sender as 'To Future You'. Memories flood back from a decade ago when your teacher, Mr. Yang, initiated a unique project in your fourth year of secondary school. Instead of the typical 'what I think will happen in 10 years' pitch, Mr. Yang offered a more intriguing idea that got the students on board.

Your class was tasked with writing letters to someone else in the class, detailing how you perceived them then and what you believed they would become in the future. Mr. Yang's intention was to leave everyone with a lasting memory, knowing that some would stay for fifth and sixth years, while others would move on to college or the workforce.

He didn’t pair you all up, leaving you to your own devices; it could be a friend or someone random, the only stipulation being that it was someone from your home room.

Honestly, you hadn’t given it much thought at the time, sending one to the girl next to you with hopes that her dreams would come true. All your friends were in different classes, so you couldn’t even enthusiastically engage with the exercise.

However, you never expected to get one yourself. Your home room was filled with the popular girls and guys who were a world away from you and your quiet life. While they were out partying and having fun, you were studying to get into University, promising yourself a life of fun after you had graduated with friends you made along the way.

Of course, that’s not how it worked and you found yourself in a job you hated with bosses who make sly remarks about you and your competency even though you are much better at your job than any of these middle-aged losers. What’s that song from Bowling For Soup? High School Never ends, and by fuck were they right.

So as you stare at the unread email, you brace yourself for the torment from school to haunt you now as a 26-year-old. There was one girl from class who hated you, convinced that you ratted her out for smoking in the girls’ bathroom, which by the way, you had no part in; perhaps this letter is cursing you out wrongfully one final time.

Yet, the letter is not anything of the sort, leaving your palms sweaty at the unexpected turn.

Hi, Y/N.

How are you doing? From the looks of it, you’re struggling with what to write. Me too if I am being honest. This is a bit weird, isn’t it? I feel so strange writing these words when you're just a few seats away.

Anyway, hi again!

I don't know why I'm pouring my thoughts out to you of all people, but…I trust you. You’re genuinely nice and kind to everyone, even when others aren't :( sorry about that, by the way, for my friends. They can be real pissheads, and I personally hope they live unfulfilling lives. Once I leave next month, I pray I never have to see them ever again.

Is that too harsh? 

Sorry, I should get back on track. You look super pretty today! I noticed you got a new bracelet. Was it for your birthday? Come to think of it, your birthday must have just passed if you're receiving this 10 years later, so happy 26th birthday, I guess! It’s so strange to imagine you as a 26 year old, or me for that matter lol.

I’m supposed to predict what I see your life like in the future, right? I think you’re an amazing lawyer (that is what you’re going to study at University, isn’t it?) I peer-reviewed one of your English papers once and you made me totally change my mind on The Woman in Black, I mean, she shouldn’t have tormented him but she was also grieving. I knew then that you could see the good in everyone, exactly what a good lawyer should be. Umm…you’re probably happily living with your husband who you met in a lecture and bonded over some conversation about how to save the world or what near extinct animal you should fundraise for.

I’m jealous of him just thinking about it.

Can I make a confession? Since I don’t think we’ll miraculously become friends and you’ll somehow read this while I sit beside you. It’s actually the real reason I’m writing this to you (I lied earlier about not knowing, I just didn’t know if I would say this part lol.)

I like you, as in, like you - like you. I have since first year when you walked into homeroom with your hair tied up and your Hello Kitty backpack. I might even be in love with you, as much as a 16 year old boy can be. You’re so passionate and beautiful that I can’t keep my eyes off you. Even now in the computer room, I’m staring straight at you and you haven’t even looked my way once. It always goes like this but I don’t blame you for it, don’t worry! It’s my fault, I should stop being a coward and ask you out, or at least try and be friends with you.

I’m leaving at the end of fourth year, I hate this place, to be honest. I have no idea what I am going to do or who I am and I’m scared as fuck. I wish in another life I could have you by my side through adulthood. I think it’s the only way I can cope, it’s the only reason I survived this hellhole. One look at you, and I feel safe, like the world isn’t crashing down on me. That’s weird, isn’t it? To think that about someone you don’t speak to.

This is coming off as creepy, like I don’t stalk you or anything, don’t worry. I just can’t express my feelings well but I guess it’s as simple as:

I think I love you, I hope no matter what happens in the future you have the life you deserve, and if I do happen to build up the courage at the end of the year to confess and you fall in love with me and I am in fact that husband I spoke about earlier (although way cooler and less of a knob) then do not speak about this lol.

Take care of yourself, Y/N. The world is so much brighter with you in it.

~ Your secret admirer.

LOL imagine I left you hanging like that :P 

~ It’s Jaeyun (Sim, not Lee)

You stare blankly at your phone screen, the words swirling before your eyes like a whirlpool of emotions. A tidal wave crashes over you, leaving you paralysed in your seat, suspended in a moment of disbelief and regret. It's as if time itself has come to a standstill, and the world around you fades into insignificance as you grapple with the weight of Jaeyun's confession.

How could you not have noticed? How could you have been so blind to his feelings, so oblivious to the subtle signs of affection that now seem painfully obvious in hindsight? Jaeyun, of all people, someone who had offered you a smile while his friend group glared at you, or how he volunteered to be your dancing partner during PE, all that time you figured he was doing it to mock you when in fact, he was someone who had seen you for who you truly were when others merely glanced over you.

Jaeyun had been there all along, quietly observing, silently hoping for a chance to make his feelings known.

And you wish he did because out of all the popular students in your year, he was the one you would have been opened to. You had a crush on him like any girl does in their youth, but that's all you thought it was, an unrequited crush that could never be anything more than that. Yet, here he was telling you he liked you, so casually, in a letter he wrote at 16.

In his predictions, he was right about one thing - you are a lawyer, a damn good one at that. It’s amazing how he even knew that considering you don’t remember telling him nor did you share any inclination with even your friends that you were planning to go to Uni for it. It wasn’t for any reason other than usually when you tell someone you are going to do something, you end up never achieving it. 

However, he missed the mark on the marriage front. Between the demands of University and your intensive full-time job, which frequently spills over into overtime, your romantic life has mostly consisted of fleeting Tinder dates and occasional hookups. Yet, it's not a life steeped in sorrow, marriage and children have never ranked high on your list of priorities, so you harbour no discontentment with your current relationship status, not really...

Suppressing the lump in your throat, you resort to the timeless ritual that any single woman in her mid-twenties indulges in upon discovering that someone from high school had an interest in her, particularly when she once found him undeniably attractive and frequently mentioned him to her closest friends back in the day: you embark on an Instagram stalking expedition, naturally.

Abandoning your pile of emails and the documents of your current case, you cast aside all distractions in a quest for Jaeyun. Despite only sharing a couple of conversations with him that linger in your memory, you're compelled to uncover what he's been up to. Typing his name into the search bar, you hold your breath, hoping that finding him won't prove too difficult given his distinctive name.

Thankfully, user simjakeyun emerges with ease, and in no time, you find yourself perusing his profile.

There he is, just as you recall him - those beguiling puppy eyes you once avoided now ensnaring you with their warmth, and that infectious smile rendering him ageless. As you delve into his world, you're entranced by the adventures he shares and the moments he has captured. His life appears so rich and fulfilling that you can't help but feel a pang of contrast with the dreary confines of your current office.

As you scroll, you see how he is embracing life to its fullest, travelling the world and seeing countries you can’t even point out on a map, all while you find yourself tethered to the prison of your office walls for hours on end. It's not that you despise your own life, but in this moment of comparison, a sense of discontentment begins to gnaw at you.

There are a few girls on his page but none that are consistent, with no wedding ring and no kids, you wonder whether it’s worth dropping him a message. 

Are you really going to slide into Sim Jaeyun’s DMs? Yes. Yes, you are.

Creating a new private message, you hesitate, staring at his profile picture at the top of the screen. That beautiful smile makes you second-guess yourself. Why would he care about a silly little message from you? He’s out there striving and thriving, while your Instagram chronicles the life of a busy lawyer with only two close friends and an obvious wine addiction due to the countless glasses that makes frequent appearances.

You linger on the message screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. The doubts swirl in your mind, but something pushes you forward. Taking a deep breath, you begin to type.

"Hey Jaeyun, it's been ages! I just stumbled across your profile and couldn't resist saying hi. It looks like you've been on some incredible adventures. How have you been?"

You pause, re-reading the message. It feels both too casual and overly formal at the same time. With a sigh, you delete the last sentence and try again. Your mind is screaming at you not to bring up the letter, yet it might be the only way to get a response. At the end of the day, he was right - you weren’t friends in school, so why pretend you were just to start a conversation? Surely, that would make him think you were a weirdo.

But he told you he might be in love you, and you’ve gone ten years without knowing. Bringing it up could be the key to getting a genuine reaction from him, but it could also backfire spectacularly. He might recoil, feel uncomfortable, and even block you completely. You know you'd have that reaction if the roles were reversed.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to take the plunge. You start typing a new message, carefully choosing your words.

Hi Jaeyun! I don’t know if you remember me but the funniest thing just happened. Do you remember Mr. Yang made us write those letters to someone in the class that would be sent ten years later? I got one today…from you, actually! You probably won’t remember but  I thought I would let you know that I got it and thank you :) 

You hesitate before hitting send, re-reading it over and over again to avoid spelling mistakes and accidentally telling him that he told you he loved you. As the message goes through, your heart races and a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirls inside you. This is a leap of faith, and all you can do now is wait.

_____

Unfortunately, all you do is wait because it's been two days, and Jaeyun hasn't replied. The silence is deafening, amplifying your doubts and fears. You replay the message over and over in your mind, wondering if you said too much or too little.

It has to be because you mentioned the letter; he probably has a girlfriend. It wouldn't be uncommon for a guy as gorgeous as him to be snapped up quickly. He probably has one of those stunning girlfriends with long blonde hair and a figure straight out of Vogue.

You try to push the thoughts aside, but they persist, gnawing at you. Doubts mingle with vivid imaginations of his perfect life, further widening the gap between your reality and the fantasy you've constructed. Much like he passively fantasised about the prospect of being your husband all those years ago, you now find yourself lying on your couch, imagining what it would be like to be his wife.

The images in your mind are vivid and alluring: travelling the world together, exploring new places, sharing laughs and quiet moments. You picture the two of you living in a charming apartment, hosting dinner parties, and supporting each other through life's ups and downs. The fantasy is intoxicating, but it also leaves you feeling a bit hollow as you contrast it with your current life. 

Why are you thinking about all of that about a man you haven't seen or cared about in 10 years? Are you really that desperate, wallowing over what could have been when you had practically forgotten about him?

The more you dwell on it, the more you realise how much you've let his lack of response affect you. Deciding that it's time to regain control of your thoughts, you put your phone aside and focus on something productive. You dive into cleaning your house, finally discarding the takeaway boxes and clothes thrown around the room.

As you clean, the physical activity provides a welcome distraction and a sense of accomplishment. You clear the clutter, creating a more organised and inviting space. Each piece of trash you throw away and each item you put back in its place helps you feel more in control. The mess around you had mirrored the turmoil in your mind, and now, with each cleaned surface, you feel a bit more at peace.

You remind yourself of your strengths and the life you've built. Your career, your friends, your favourite plant that you bought on a whim - all these things are a testament to the vibrant and dynamic life you lead. You're not defined by a response from Jaeyun.

His life is not yours and yours is not his. You are an independent-

*ping*

Leaping over your couch, you unlock your phone and see the Instagram notification and smile brightly, like it was a job offer you’ve been patiently awaiting or an early release of your favourite manga.  The rush of anticipation and excitement courses through you as you eagerly open the app to read Jaeyun's message.

Hey there! Sorry about the delay in getting back to you. I've been on a marathon journey back from the UK over the past few days. Opted for the budget ticket, and obviously, it turned into a 36-hour saga with three stopovers 😅. But hey, I'm finally back home! 

It's genuinely awesome to hear from you! Can you believe that letter actually made its way to you? I half-suspected it was some scheme Mr. Yang cooked up to sneak a smoke break with Mr. Kim lol.

I remember writing that letter! I said a few things in there...didn’t I? 😳 So, are you still in town? We should totally catch up tomorrow if you're free. I'm all yours if you'll have me.

Your heart skips a beat as you read Jaeyun's message, a rush of excitement coursing through you. His casual tone and mention of the letter bring a smile to your face. It's a relief to see that he's not put off or weirded out by your message; instead, he seems genuinely happy to hear from you. 

His apparent recollection of what he said in the letter adds a layer of complexity to the situation. He may want to meet up to address it, perhaps to clarify that it was meant as a joke or to downplay its significance. You find yourself mentally preparing for the possibility of him saying something along the lines of, "Hey, sorry, that was just a joke, so please don't read into it."

While you tell yourself that you'll accept his explanation, deep down, you know that these past two days have shown that you may not take it as casually as you initially thought. If a simple message, or lack thereof, got you in such a tizzy, you can't imagine how you'd react to a rejection of a confession that you didn't even make.

Regardless, you type your response rapidly, not caring if it makes you look desperate and available.

You must be exhausted after travelling! But I'm glad you made it back home safe and sound. I'm free tomorrow. Can you do after 6pm? There's this cosy cafe downtown that's perfect for catching up, it’s called Daisies. I'll make sure to save you a seat. Looking forward to it! 

With a quick tap, you send the message, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness about tomorrow's meeting. However, you don’t get long to be alone with your thoughts as another ping of your phone comes through.

Do they do double Jack and Cokes? I think I might need it if I remember what I wrote lol…😅

In all honesty, you might need one as well.

_____

Straightening the napkins on the table for the seventh time in the space of an hour, you watch the door patiently, anticipation coursing through your veins, waiting for Jaeyun to walk through the glass door of the bar you had both settled on. Each of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to have this conversation without some form of alcohol.

It’s not that you’re nervous about seeing him again; after all, you used to see him every day. But it's the weight of the conversation that looms over you. The realisation that the first real conversation you are going to have with him throughout all these years is about a letter he confessed to you in - a letter never meant for you to read because he thought it was a hoax assignment. His actions, unintentional as they may have been, have consequences, and you can't shake the uncertainty of it all.

As the minutes tick by, each second feels heavier than the last. You find yourself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, replaying scenarios and conversations in your mind, trying to predict how tonight's encounter might unfold. Will Jaeyun be as casual and friendly as his messages suggested, or will there be an underlying tension lingering beneath the surface?

The sound of the door opening snaps you out of your reverie, and you glance up, heart pounding, only to find it's just another punter entering the bar. You let out a sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly, but the anticipation remains palpable.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm and composed. This is just Sim Jaeyun, not an ex, not a lost lover, not your dad’s work colleague—there is nothing to be nervous about.

“Y/N?”

Jaeyun’s melodious voice breaks through your thoughts, and you look up to meet his gaze with wide eyes, startled by his sudden appearance. How on earth did he manage to slip through that door without you noticing? The surprise registers on your face as you take in his presence, a mix of amusement and disbelief dancing in your eyes.

"Jaeyun, hey!" you exclaim, your voice betraying your surprise as it breaks, forcing you to clear the bubble in your throat and quickly regain your composure. “I mean, when did you get here?”

He laughs loudly, the rich sound filling the room as he takes the seat opposite to you. The genuine warmth of his smile is infectious, closing his eyes slightly as he enjoys the moment. “Just a minute ago, I went up to the bar first to order us a drink. You like white wine, yeah?”

Nodding, you tilt your head, intrigued. “Yeah, how did you know that?”

“I saw you started without me,” Jaeyun chuckles once again, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he points to your empty glass, “I made an educated guess.”

You can't help but marvel at Jaeyun's appearance. His features are striking, his smile infectious, and there's a certain magnetism about him that draws you in. It's as if he effortlessly commands attention without even trying. A face that gorgeous shouldn’t be allowed to roam so freely, you think to yourself. It should come with a warrant, or at the very least a warning label.

He’s also wearing a pretty cream jacket with a simple white Stussy t-shirt, and some cargo jeans. His hair is much longer than when he was younger, with whisps of his fringe covering his face. 

It’s parallel to your business-casual outfit, having just come from the office you decided to opt for a baby pink blouse - in honour of your hero Elle Woods, a cream thigh-length skirt, and a pair of kitten heels. It wasn’t exactly how you wished to dress while meeting Jaeyun again for the first time but due to having consultation with clients, you couldn’t exactly wear a little black dress.

Not that Jaeyun minds; as you’re lost in thought, his eyes are tracing over your body, how your clothes look tailor-made and your tits are sitting beautifully. He feels like a perv for staring at you, this is the first time he’s seen you in so long and here he is, eye fucking you. Though who could blame him? Even as he focuses on your face, forcing his eyes to leave the contours of your curves, all he can stare at is your lips and how they’ve been freshly glossed.

Clearing his throat, Jaeyun tries to shake off the inappropriate thoughts flooding his mind. "So, how have you been?" he asks, his smile innocent yet tinged with nervousness.

"Good. Yeah, good. You?" you respond, keeping your tone neutral, not revealing too much about your well-being. To you, your life is boring and lacks anything worth speaking about.

"Yeah...good," Jaeyun replies, the awkward tension between you palpable in the air.

The atmosphere strange, a tense undercurrent clouding the breezy air. Being alone with him, even being with him at all, feels unfamiliar and stirs a tinge of awkwardness in you. Luckily, he seems just as uneasy.

But when your eyes finally meet, you both burst out laughing, the tension melting away. The sound of your harmonious laughter fills the bar, louder than the soft hum of music or the chatter of others in the background.

His laugh is just as infectious as you remember it, filling the air with its higher-pitched squeals that seem to come in four successions. You watch with fondness as his body leans to the side, his eyes scrunching together in pure joy. It's a sight you hadn't realised you missed until now, a flood of memories rushing back to you in an instant. You hadn't known you knew that about him - the way he laughs, the way he tilts his head when he finds something amusing - but now, it's like a long-lost memory has suddenly resurfaced, and you're hateful to yourself for ever forgetting.

He straightens up, shaking his head to calm his amusement, yet the smile still beams from his face. Huffing out, he nods and looks at you, as though agreeing with his thoughts. “You know, I just realised that we haven’t ever spoken, so this is a bit awkward, isn’t it?”

Shaking your head, you lean forward, your fingers deftly smoothing out the tiniest wrinkle in your shirt as you relax, feeling your body shift with the new atmosphere. “That isn’t true, we had that conversation during country dancing classes.”

“Oh, you mean, ‘Can you not step on my foot, please?’ I would hardly count it as a conversation,” he dismisses it lightheartedly, offering you another chuckle as he remembers.

What he doesn’t know is that you do count it. It was your first proper encounter with him, and even though he kept squashing your toe under his tatty trainers, you let it go because it was also the first time you heard that melodic Australian accent say your name as he mumbled a quick, ‘sorry, Y/N’.

You both laugh again at the memory before the waiter brings over your drinks. “Cheers, mate. Thanks.” Jaeyun smiles politely at the man. It’s the bare minimum to thank your server, yet you can’t stop the butterflies in your stomach as he does so. It’s a testament to his kindness because most of the guys you have ever dated have been the type to snap their fingers or complain about the tiniest thing that could easily be fixed.

Not Jaeyun though, he is far too sweet to act like an arsehole. You haven’t even spent 10 minutes with him and you already know it.

As the waiter walks away, you reach for your wine before stopping for a beat, looking at it thoughtfully. There is a slice of lemon inside the glass, the sight peculiar not because you don’t like it, but rather because you do like it. It’s not conventional to have any garnishes on wine; most connoisseurs say that the wine is already perfect as made. But you like things extra bitter and everything citrus; it’s been this way since college.

You glance at Jaeyun as he sips his Jack and Coke, his attention solely on his drink, seemingly oblivious to your curiosity. Could he have known you liked wine this way? But how? It’s not like you brought a 125ml and a wedge to school. And you certainly don’t come here frequently enough for the bartender to remember you or your order.

The thought niggles at the back of your mind as you take another sip of your wine, mulling over the possibilities. Perhaps it's just a coincidence, you tell yourself, trying to rationalise the situation. But it also isn’t a big deal, you got what you wanted without asking for it which is a very rare occurrence, so you’ll take it and run.

Setting the thought aside, you indulge in a sip of the crisp wine, a contented hum escaping your lips as you enjoy the taste. With a playful shoulder dance, you set the glass down on the table. “So, how has life been since you left school?” you ask casually, even though as you glance up at him, you catch him licking the residue of his drink from his lips and it makes your body flush with heat. 

Your gaze lingers for a moment longer than intended, a fleeting moment of admiration as you catch the subtle details of his expression.

“Really…amazing actually,” he begins, his voice laced with a sense of joy as a broad smile lights up his face. “When I left, I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so I just got a part-time job, saved up enough to travel and see my brother back in Australia, and from there...just travelled. I did odd jobs to make money, enough to pay rent for a few months at each place.”

As Jaeyun speaks, you can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy creeping into your thoughts. His carefree lifestyle, filled with adventure and spontaneity, sounds like a dream compared to your own mundane existence of endless paperwork and court cases.

“Wow, that sounds incredible,” you respond, trying to mask the envy in your voice with genuine interest. “Must have been amazing to just pick up and go wherever you want.”

Jaeyun nods enthusiastically, his eyes alight with the memories of his adventures. “It is liberating, honestly. I’ve learned so much about myself and the world. It was good for me, it turned out to be exactly what I needed.”

He takes another sip of his JD, his expression shifting to one of apology as he notices the dejected look on your face. “But what about you? Aren’t you a fancy lawyer now? That’s way more impressive than a country-hopper.”

You know he's just trying to be polite, but his words only serve to magnify your own feelings of inadequacy. In no world is your tiresome job and lack of social life anywhere near as impressive as what he has managed to accomplish in 10 years.

Taking a big swig of your drink, you bob your head from side to side, downplaying the enormity of your profession. “Yeah, it’s okay. It pays well and I do love it some days. I work in corporate law, so it isn’t as exciting as I would have liked.”

“You wanted to do immigration law, right?” Jaeyun asks, his tone is casual but his question catches you off guard.

You pause, your eyes narrowing with scepticism as you look at him. It's one thing for him to recall your career aspirations, but for him to remember the specific field you were interested in seems almost uncanny. After all, you never spoke about it except in your university applications. So unless he had some insider knowledge, there's no reason for him to know such specific details.

Nodding slowly, you set your wine glass down and lean back. “Yeah… how did you know that? I never told anyone about it.”

“I guess I'm just quite the observer,” he jokes, though there's a hint of sheepishness in his tone as he scratches the back of his neck. He curses himself inwardly for being so casual about a minute detail that he knows he shouldn’t know. “I actually, uh, I saw you checking out an Immigration Law and Social Justice book one day. Figured that’s what you wanted to do.”

Jaeyun wasn’t lying; that really was how he knew. It was just before summer break, and he was returning his physics books when he noticed you in front of him, a pile of books in one arm, the first one being about immigration law.

You look up to the ceiling, a smile of understanding spreading across your face as you let out a contented 'oh', finally piecing together the mystery. "That makes sense now. I was so confused when you wrote about me going on to become a lawyer in that letter because I could have sworn I never uttered a word to anyone."

“That’s right! I predicted you would be a snooty lawyer,” he exclaims, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he lightly bangs his fist on the table. His chuffed grin widens, spreading across his face like he's just won the first question on a quiz show. 

Laughing, you nod in agreement. You don’t tell him that he never called you snooty because he also isn’t wrong as he adds the adjective. Although you’re easy going outside of the office, you hold yourself with high pride while at work, looking down on the men you work with. Perhaps you would be more kind if they weren’t gigantic arseholes with no morals.

So in that sense, yes, yes you are snooty.

“You also said I would be married with kids,” you point out, a chuckle escaping your lips as you recall the absurdity of the prediction.

“So? Did I get two for two?” Jaeyun retorts, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he wiggles his eyebrows. Beneath his casual demeanour, though, a subtle flutter stirs in his heart at the mention of a husband. He wants you to be happy, obviously - why wouldn’t he? But he can’t deny the pang of jealousy that tugs at him at the prospect of you being happy with another man.

You notice the subtle shift in Jaeyun's manner, the conflict between his words and the emotion flickering in his eyes, but you choose to let it pass without comment. Instead, you simply shake your head and lift your eyebrows, taking another sip of your white wine. If you don’t slow down, you’ll be finished five of these before Jaeyun has even made a dent in his first drink.

He audibly gasps at your silent confession, his surprise evident in the way his eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly. As much as he had hoped you wouldn’t have a man waiting for you at home, he can’t believe that you don’t. 

“Seriously? I would have thought someone would have snapped you up in a heartbeat,” he admits, still flabbergasted that the bright and beautiful woman sitting before him is, in fact, single.

“Nope. I guess it’s just like high school,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly as you downplay the situation. Despite trying to be casual about it all, a hint of vulnerability lingers beneath the surface. You know how it looks, being in your mid-twenties and never having been in a serious relationship. It has made you wonder countless times about what could possibly be so repulsive that men don’t want to pursue a relationship with you.

But then you remember the richness of your life - a nice cosy flat, paying all your own bills, having friends who love you unconditionally, and a supportive family who stands by every decision you make. In the grand scheme of things, your life is fulfilling in its own right, far beyond the confines of a romantic relationship.

It doesn’t mean you don’t sometimes feel like you’re missing out though, but you've come to appreciate the career-driven journey that is yours alone.

Jaeyun's laughter fills the air, warm and genuine, but there's a certain intensity in his gaze as he looks you dead in the eyes. His iris’, a shade of deep brown flecked with golden hues, seem to hold a wealth of unspoken words, as if there's something he's yearning to express beyond the surface banter.

“Like high school? As in you’re too busy to notice people looking your way?” he quips, his voice light but tinged with a hint of vulnerability. There's a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a silent recognition of the unspoken truths dancing between you due to one letter.

This damn letter.

“You did mention how you would always look at me. Although, you made it very clear you were not a stalker,” you remark with a snort of laughter, thinking back to the playful disclaimer he had included in his letter. The tension between you dissipates slightly as you both chuckle loudly with one another much like before.

Even when the air is awkward, you both still manage to find comfort in it. Perhaps it’s because you both share feelings that none of you are aware of. As far as you’re concerned, he left those feelings behind in secondary school, and he thinks you’ve never cared about him at all.

Jaeyun covers his face as the memories invade his mind of writing and re-writing the paragraph to make you abundantly aware that he did not sit outside your house at night and watch you through the window - a sentence which was in the first draft - or that he didn’t transfer classes to National 3 Maths to be close to you - even though he did and he should have graduated high school with National 5, sacrificing his academic standing just to have the seat close to yours.

“Can I read it? I need to know what I should specifically be apologising for,” Jaeyun titters, his voice muffled by the palms of his hands as he peeks through his fingers at you. The request hangs in the air, laced with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, as if he's both eager and apprehensive to revisit the words he had penned so long ago.

Reaching for your phone in your bag, you nod, trifling through the empty wrappers of gum and secret chocolate bars you sneakily eat in the office. The last time you ate your well-deserved Mars bar, your boss made a snide comment about how you must be starting your period soon. It’s men like him that make Jaeyun’s bare minimum of thanking the waiter a much-needed standard.

You retrieve your phone and open up the letter, passing it to him which he awkwardly accepts, smiling apologetically at you already for whatever 16-year-old him thought was appropriate to say. He begins to scroll, his face changing from amusement to disdain and then back to amusement. Yet one solid feature is etched on his face the entire time, hiding behind the other emotions he is portraying but you can’t figure it out.

You observe Jaeyun as he clicks the phone to lock it, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face before he passes it back to you. There's a hint of apprehension in his eyes, mingled with a quiet resignation, yet he does what Jaeyun does best; he smiles and washes his true feelings away.

“It was even more cringe-worthy than I remember, I seriously gotta apologise that you had to read all of that,” he says with a self-deprecating chuckle, his tone light but carrying a hint of genuine remorse. It's his way of deflecting, of downplaying his confession, but you can't help but sense the underlying sincerity beneath his words.

"I honestly thought it was a joke when I opened it and saw your name," you admit softly, wary of your words. You don't want him to think you found his feelings laughable, but rather that receiving a love letter at all was the punchline, particularly back then.

Contrary to his portrayal in the letter, you didn't consider yourself pretty or beautiful in high school. You felt average, plagued by acne, with scars that still dot your face as lingering reminders. Your hair was often a mess, your face untouched by makeup, and you never settled on a style, finding them all too mismatched with your personality.

Upon hearing your confession, Jaeyun's eyes widen in disbelief. "Seriously? Why?"

You shrug, picking up your glass and swirling it thoughtfully before responding. "You were with Chris and the others, and let's be honest, they weren't exactly my best friends," you scoff, recalling the snide comments his friends used to make in passing, or the 'accidental' bumps that would cause you to drop your phone or books.

There is a pregnant pause in the air as Jaeyun's expression softens with understanding, a hint of regret shadowing his features. "I'm sorry you had to deal with all that," he murmurs, genuine remorse colouring his tone.

You offer a small, dismissive wave of your hand, attempting to brush off the memories. "Water under the bridge now," you say, though the bitterness still lingers beneath the surface. It wasn’t his fault; he had no control over his friends' actions, and in hindsight, he was the one in the group who never laughed at your discomfort or instigated trouble for you. He was always there to offer you an apologetic smile when you needed it.

Back then, it was hard to see him as an individual from the others, considering he was always by their side. But in retrospect you realise that your crush on him had been rooted in an unspoken recognition of his genuine and kind nature, even if in high school you couldn’t fully see it. You never hated him, the opposite in fact, and there was a reason for that.

A chuckle escapes Jaeyun's lips, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "If it makes you feel better, I got my wish," he says, laughter lacing his words as he knocks back the rest of his drink. "Half of them peaked in school, and Chris is divorced and balding as we speak."

You can't help but laugh along with him, the irony not lost on you. "Well, karma works in mysterious ways," you quip, raising your glass in a mock toast to the twists of fate.

Jaeyun grins, clinking his glass against yours. "Cheers to that."

Settling comfortably back in your seat, you smile fondly at him. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, you feel at ease. There’s something about him that makes you feel safe, a sense that no matter what’s going on in your mind, he can calm you down. You recall his words in the letter, how he could look at you and instantly feel better.

Jaeyun's gaze holds a gentle intensity, his eyes sparkling with a glint of satisfaction as he observes your visibly relaxed state. "It's nice seeing you like this," he murmurs softly, a hint of warmth lacing his voice. "I always hoped we'd have a moment like this someday."

You hum softly, grinning sheepishly at the prospect that Sim Jaeyun could have thought about you even after your school years. It does beg the elephant in the room to be addressed, however, both of you sneaking around the main focus of his written word.

"In the letter," you begin, feeling a curious mix of apprehension and anticipation swirl in your chest. The question hovers on the tip of your tongue, laden with the weight of untold possibilities. "Why didn’t you ask me out?"

The inquiry catches Jaeyun off guard, momentarily stalling his easy demeanour. He blinks, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he recovers with a thoughtful expression. It's evident that he hadn't anticipated such directness from you, despite knowing your inquisitive nature all too well.

Straightening out his jacket with a nervous flick, Jaeyun adjusts his posture to convey a sense of faux confidence. He clears his throat and licks his lips, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I shouldn’t have been a coward," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

Jaeyun's candid admission bubbles shock into you, yet you find it refreshing coming from a man. You nod in understanding, silently acknowledging his confession.

"You were just…you," he says, meeting your eyes with candour. "Smart, attractive, career-oriented, and determined to change the world. And I was just a screwy little kid with no life aspirations and nothing to offer a girl like you."

His words resonate within you, with a genuine honesty that is both disarming and charming. Despite his self-deprecating tone, you can't help but be empathic to the vulnerability he's exhibiting.

"I didn't see you that way," you say, your voice soft but genuine, hoping to convey that you never considered him beneath you. In your view, you could never be on his level, not in a negative sense, but in the understanding that he exuded charisma and confidence that seemed out of reach. Your personalities were too contrasting, with him being cool and outgoing, while you felt you would have fallen short.

Jaeyun lets out a rueful laugh, a wry smile playing on his lips. "You didn't see me at all, did you?" he replies, his tone carrying a mix of self-awareness and resignation.

His words hit you like a blow to the chest, a painful realisation dawning upon you. You wince, feeling yourself crumble inward, the weight of missed opportunities and unspoken truths bearing down heavily on your shoulders. If you had stuck your head out of your own bubble, maybe you would be sitting and having a drink with him as something more than high school could haves.

"I'm sorry about that," you say, your voice laced with regret. "I was so focused on studying and staying away from your crowd that I just didn't see."

Jaeyun's expression softens, his features reflecting a mixture of empathy and knowing. "It's alright," he says gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on yours. “The way you were back then, it was exactly the reason I lo-, I liked you so much,” he confesses sheepishly, stumbling over his words as he skirts around the most obviously avoided topic of his letter.

Shaking off the intensity of the moment, Jaeyun gestures for the waiter to return, his easy smile returning as he orders more drinks, figuring that if he’s sipping, he isn’t saying something he might regret. 

“So, tell me about being a lawyer.”

_____

For the next three hours, you both speak about everything and anything; from his adventurous travels to your disastrous dates, from your awful bosses to the state of the government, you discuss it all. Each topic seamlessly flows into another, and you find yourself conversing with ease, as if you're best friends on your weekly catch up.

As the evening progresses, you've shared stories, laughter, and even a few moments of vulnerability. The wine has flowed freely, the bottle emptying with each heartfelt story, while Jaeyun has indulged in his fair share of Jack and Coke, the familiar burn of the alcohol helping to dissolve any lingering feelings of apprehension.

Despite the passage of time and the years spent apart, it feels as though no time has passed at all. You find yourself effortlessly connecting with Jaeyun, discovering new facets of his personality with each shared anecdote and heartfelt confession. You wonder if you would have gotten along this well in secondary school.

"Is this you back for good then or?" you ask, the wine buzz kicking into your system enough to make you lean forward, resting your chin on your hand as you gaze at him with an undercurrent of longing.

Jaeyun's expression softens, his eyes never meeting yours but they shine with a hint of something you cannot put your finger on. "I'm actually going to Malta the day after tomorrow. This was just a flying visit," he replies, his tone tinged with a sense of wistfulness.

The news comes as bittersweet to you because just as you had Jaeyun within reach, he is also leaving you just as quickly. But you’re also envious that while you have to get up early and represent people in a boardroom who only see value in money and nothing else, he is galavanting to another dream destination.

"Ugh, I am so jealous!" you proclaim, unable to hide the playful pout that forms on your lips. Your declaration elicits a hearty laugh from Jaeyun, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he shakes his head, seemingly amused by the idea of someone successful like you being envious of him.

Because little do you know, that behind the facade of excitement of his adventures lies a loneliness he's kept hidden for years. He couch surfs, has little money to his name, and lacks solid friends to call in times of need. He hasn’t even seen his family in years, missing out on cherished moments like Christmas and birthdays. Despite the allure of adventure and freedom, his heart aches for companionship, for someone to share his experiences with.

As if a lightbulb goes off atop his head, he bites his lip and begins to speak. “You could co-”

“Sorry guys, we actually need this table for a last-minute reservation, could you sit at the bar until a free table is available?” The interruption from your waiter cuts off Jaeyun before he can finish his sentence, leaving him momentarily stunned.

You glance at your phone and smile, "It’s getting late anyway so we should go. Thank you though," you respond politely, masking any disappointment you might feel.

Jaeyun nods in agreement, thanking the waiter once again before standing up. He holds out his hand for you to take as you rise from your chair, an action that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It’s not the gesture itself but the way he extended his hand without thinking about it.

Taking Jaeyun’s hand, you stand up, careful not to bump into anything as you step out from behind the table. Together, you retreat outside, the cool night air hitting your alcohol-flushed faces, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the crowded restaurant. The sensation brings a sense of relief, washing away the residual tension from the interrupted conversation.

Jaeyun notices the icy air, but instead of embracing it, his gaze falls on you, and he can't help but notice how your thin blouse must be providing little protection against the chill. Swiftly, he takes off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, adjusting it with care to ensure you're snug and warm.

You're taken aback by his offer, feeling a rush of gratitude and warmth flood through you at his thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," you say softly, a smile touching your lips as you pull the jacket tighter around you.

He returns your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine affection. “Let me walk you home?” he offers, his tone gentle yet insistent.

You hesitate for a moment, trying to save him the inconvenience, but he's not fooled. Jaeyun knows the dangers of a woman walking alone at night, and while he trusts your ability to handle yourself, he wouldn't feel right if he left you and something did happen. Plus, deep down, he relishes the opportunity to spend as much time with you as possible.

Touched by his concern, you look up at him and offer a small smile. "I only live down the road, I'll be fine," you assure him, though the underlying appreciation in your voice is evident.

Jaeyun shakes his head with determination, a glint of resolve in his eyes. "I insist," he says firmly, reaching for your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I won't take no for an answer."

His sincerity and insistence warm your heart, and you find yourself relenting, knowing that his company will make the short walk home all the more enjoyable. With a grateful nod, you lead the way, feeling a sense of comfort and safety in his presence as you navigate the dimly lit streets together.

You really do only live about 10 minutes away, so the walk is quick by usual standards. Yet, tonight, you find yourself taking your time, savouring each step as if seeing the world through a new lens. Perhaps it's the lingering effects of the wine, or maybe it's the comforting presence of Jaeyun's hand in yours, but suddenly, the world feels lighter and fresher than it did just this morning.

As you stroll through the streets, you notice the ebb and flow of life around you. People are walking into bars, some are finishing up for the day, and others are simply enjoying a leisurely evening stroll. The streets hum with a busy yet serene energy, a unique blend of activity and tranquillity that can only be found when there's no rush to get from A to B.

Reaching your apartment building, you slow your pace, allowing yourself to take in the familiar surroundings with newfound appreciation. The soft glow of the streetlights casts a warm ambience over the building's facade, while the gentle hum of the city envelops you both.

You pause in front of the entrance, turning to Jaeyun with a smile. "This is me," you say, gesturing with the hand clasped in his, pulling him out of whatever thoughts have plagued him this whole journey.

While you were admiring your hometown, Jaeyun was overcome with thoughts that, once you reach your flat, this could be the last time he sees you again. He doesn’t want to come across as greedy for your time or clingy considering this is the first time you’ve both interacted in ten years, but he had so much fun that he doesn’t want it to end here.

Luckily for him, you have the same thoughts even if you aren’t projecting them in your manner the same way he is. “Would you like to come up?”

Your invitation hangs in the air, laden with the unspoken hope of spending just a little more time in each other’s company or maybe something else. Jaeyun's heart skips a beat as he meets your gaze, seeing a glimmer of anticipation reflected in your eyes. He hesitates for only a moment, the weight of his own desires battling against his fear of overstepping.

But in the end, the pull of your company proves too strong to resist. With a soft smile, Jaeyun nods, his voice barely above a whisper. "If that’s okay, I would love to."

The thing about you both is that you’re seeking companionship in one another while also oblivious that the other feels the same way. You aren’t noticing how Jaeyun subtly prolonged the walk, pulling you back a few times as if reluctant to let the evening end. And he certainly didn’t notice the hopeful glint in your eyes as you asked him for another bout of his time, knowing what this could lead to.

As you both step into the building and make your way up the stairs to your apartment, there's a quiet anticipation between you, a sense of possibility tinged with the thrill of the unknown. Each step brings you closer together, the space between you filled with unspoken thoughts and unvoiced desires.

As you unlock the door and step inside, the warmth of your home envelops you, a comforting embrace that welcomes Jaeyun into your world. 

You are also very glad that you had that anxiety-induced cleanathon.

Jaeyun wipes his feet on your doormat before heading inside, looking around at your quaint yet busy home. “Your flat is nice. Homely.”

“I’m either here or the office so…” you explain, taking your shoes and his jacket off, discarding them on their appropriate stands. 

Since you spend a lot of evenings in your office, which is sterile and minimalistic, you wanted the opposite tone for your house. You filled it with knick-knacks and plants, every available surface adorned with shelves or posters, while the warm orange paint added a cosy glow to the environment. This was your sanctuary and you couldn’t love it any more.

You wonder if you would love it so much if your office wasn’t your only other option of residence.

You open the refrigerator and peep at the beverages you have on hand. "Do you want a beer, wine, or I can make a coffee?” You offer, grinning and looking at Jaeyun.

“Beer sounds good, thank you,” Jaeyun replies, his attention drifting towards one of your paintings that hangs just beside a free-standing bookshelf filled with your favourite romance and fantasy books.

You don’t get the chance to read as often as you would like, but when you do, it has to be filled with a romance that is so out of reach that you can convince yourself that it would never happen to you anyway. If it’s too realistic, you start to feel a little burdened at the lack of love you receive from a partner.

Grabbing a beer for him and a glass of white for yourself, you make your way over to him, extending your hand as you offer him the ice-cold drink. He accepts it with an appreciative nod and suddenly, his eyes dart over to your University degrees, each one showcasing your incredible knowledge and talent. You always ended up top of your class with first honours, a testament to your hard work.

“You really made something of yourself, Y/N. It’s incredible.” Jaeyun says softly, clinking your glass with his bottle.

“Eh, it’s all amazing and then you’re suddenly working crazy hours with not so much as a thank you,” you shrug, voice bitter as you think about all the times your dedication to your clients goes by unnoticed. You don’t do it for the acknowledgment, however, when your colleagues are getting praise for doing the bare minimum, it starts to nag at you.

Turning to you, he tilts his head, “Do you hate it?”

Do you? That’s the big question. Maybe if you had stuck to immigration law like you wanted and weren’t swayed towards corporate all because your University advisor had told you ‘It’s what is best for someone of your calibre’ then maybe, just maybe, you would be content. You aren’t being fulfilled the way you hoped you would.

“I don’t think I hate the work as much as I hate the people. They are soulless, money-hungry, misogynistic pigs with no manners,” you say spitefully, the anger bubbling inside you evident in the fire that flashes in your eyes. As much as the job might not be totally fulfilling, you think you would enjoy it more if the men in your office or those you represent had even a shred of respect for you.

Your shoulders tense, the frustration threatening to overwhelm you, but as you hear Jaeyun’s subtle laughter, you whip your head around and knit your brows together. “What?” you demand, your tone sharp with irritation. There was nothing funny in your statement, so you're finding it rather difficult to understand the chuckle that is flooding your ear.

“No, no, I’m not laughing at your struggles,” he says softly, sensing your manner change to slightly standoffish. “It’s just…you haven’t changed. You’re still passionate and driven. Just like the girl I fell in--”

He stops himself abruptly, the words dying on his lips as he realises what he was about to say. Mentally kicking himself for almost letting slip, not once, but twice tonight, he trails off into an awkward silence, the unspoken words hanging heavily between you.

But you can’t let it slide a second time. If you’re going to talk about it, now is as good a time as any.

You inhale deeply, the air heavy as you gather your courage to broach the difficult conversation. It’s not one you particularly want to have, but you know it's necessary nonetheless. Steadying yourself, you meet Jaeyun's gaze with determination, steeling yourself for what's to come.

“Jaeyun, when you wrote that you thought you loved me in that letter, was it true?”

His initial shake of the head sends a pang of disappointment through you, but before you can fully process it, he continues, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity. He places his beer on the unit beside him and takes a step forward, his expression earnest.

“No,” he begins, and for a moment, you brace yourself for the finality of his words. But then he surprises you, his next words washing over you like a wave of relief and warmth. “I didn’t think I loved you, I knew it. I just didn’t want to come across as weird or pathetic.”

His honesty leaves you momentarily speechless, your heart racing as you take in the depth of his confession. And as he reaches out, gently taking the wine from your slightly trembling hands and setting it aside, your breath catches in your throat.

With both his hands cradling your face, you find yourself drawn into his gaze, the intensity of his eyes locking with yours. In that moment, time seems to stand still, the world around you fading into the background as you lose yourself in the connection between you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, I really am,” Jaeyun admits, his voice laced with regret as he pours out his heart to you. His eyes close for a moment, as if savouring the sensation of your face under his fingertips, the soft beating of your heart a comforting rhythm in the silence between you.

“Adult me hates teenage me for not jumping on the chance to tell you how beautiful and awe-inspiring I thought you were, that I still think you are,” he continues, his words filled with raw honesty. “I was scared because you were so out of my league that I felt ridiculous for even thinking you could love me back. I fucking regret it all because even though we never spoke, I knew I wanted to be with someone as brilliant and wonderful as you. I tried so hard to find someone like you over the years and yet not one person ever compared, because there is only one you, Y/N. And I hate that you weren’t mine for even a minute.”

You have no words to say and it agitates you because here was Jaeyun, telling you how he felt and you couldn’t even give him an ounce of assurance that you would have been his if he had just asked. Your feelings back then were not as intense as his but they were real all the same. No, you didn’t love him but you wonder if you could have.

Jaeyun leans in, resting his forehead against yours, nudging your nose with an affectionate, almost playful tenderness. His warm, alcohol-tinged breath washes over your face, causing you to close your eyes along with him, immersing yourself in the intimate moment passing between you both.

“I don’t want to make the same mistake, Y/N. I can’t.”

His words hang in the air, laden with meaning and urgency. Before you can fully process them, he kisses you. It's a kiss so tender, so full of reverence, it feels as if you were a delicate rose being presented to his most cherished person.

Despite the sincerity and fondness you feel through the gentle pressure of his lips, a wave of uncertainty washes over you. He is leaving for Malta in less than 48 hours, and the thought of the impending separation threatens to overshadow the moment of intimacy you share.

But in this moment, with Jaeyun's arms wrapped around you and his lips against yours, all thoughts of the future fade away. You're consumed by the warmth of his embrace, the sweetness of his kiss, and the undeniable chemistry that ignites between you.

You know there are risks involved, that giving yourself to him could lead to heartache when he inevitably leaves. But this might be the only chance to embrace him, to have him as your own, even for a moment, just as he had wanted all those years ago. Deep down, you know that you could live to regret not taking this chance, the same way he regrets not confessing to you in fourth year.

So you let your inhibitions go, allowing yourself to be swept away by the intensity of the moment. His tongue swipes over your lips, a soft purr escaping him as he seeks to taste more than just your cherry-tinted lip balm. You can't help but surrender to the intoxicating pull of desire.

He pushes you gently against the wall by your hips, his lips never leaving yours. His senses are overwhelmed by you in every way possible: the taste of you on his tongue, your perfume drifting into his nose, the feel of your body pressing against his, and the soft echoes of your moans filling his ears. He loves it all so much that he thinks he could get addicted to it.

As Jaeyun deepens the kiss, your hands instinctively find their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Each touch, each caress, feels electrifying, sparking a fervour that neither of you can ignore. The taste of him, mingled with the remnants of his drink, is intoxicating, making your heart race faster with every passing second.

Jaeyun’s hands wander from your hips, tracing the curves of your waist and back, committing the feel of you to memory. He pulls you closer, erasing any remaining space between you, the heat of his body seeping into yours. Your breaths come faster, mingling with his in the small, shared space between your mouths.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours once more, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes search yours, filled with an intensity that makes your knees weak. “Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ve wanted you for so long, even when I thought I would never see you again, I thought about you.”

“Yeah?” you ask breathlessly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, your fingers tangling in the soft strands.

Nodding, Jaeyun’s features shift, his gaze darkening with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. He kneels before you, his hands moving with deliberate slowness as he finds the zip at the back of your skirt. His fingers work the zipper down, the sound of it seeming loud in the charged silence of the room.

His eyes never leave yours as he sinks down, the skirt slipping down your legs to pool at your feet, leaving you in your white panties. The vulnerability of the moment sends a shiver down your spine, but Jaeyun's adoring gaze and gentle touch reassure you.

Jaeyun places his hands on your hips, his thumbs brushing over your skin in soothing circles. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe as he looks up at you from his kneeling position. His eyes trace the lines of your body, drinking in the sight of you.

The raw adoration in his gaze ignites a fire within you, and you feel a rush of emotions you can barely contain. “Jaeyun,” you breathe, your hands resting on his shoulders for balance as you steady yourself against the overwhelming surge of feelings.

His hands move from your hips to your thighs, his touch light but firm as he traces the contours of your legs. The anticipation builds with each gentle caress, your skin tingling under his fingertips. When he finally leans in, pressing a tender kiss just above the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escapes your lips.

His touch is reverent, each movement deliberate and full of intent. He hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, looking up at you for permission. You nod, your breath hitching as he slowly slides them down, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

Jaeyun’s mind races as he sees you in this vulnerable state, yet he is the one who feels exposed. His feelings are pouring out of him like never before, and it’s all down to the fact that you bring that side out of him. No 16 year old should have had the emotional intelligence to decipher a crush from love, yet with you as his focus on the subject, he knew exactly what it was. While his friends were goofing off with people at parties and at the bike rack at school in a fleeting fling, he was wondering how he could make you his.

Looking at your exposed heat, he places a soft, lingering kiss just above your clit, making you jolt. You hadn’t expected him to find it so quickly, yet, it was as easy for him to find as a horse in a cow farm, like he had been doing this for years with you.

Once he feels your fingers threading through his hair, massaging his scalp, he takes it as the go-ahead to dive in deeper and explore you in ways he only imagined he could. Placing your left leg over his right shoulder and keeping his grip on your thigh for balance, he dips his tongue into your folds, moving in slow but strong strokes, lapping your taste up in his mouth. If your lips had him intoxicated, your pussy had him obsessed.

You throw your head against the wall and buck your hips up to open yourself up further to him, allowing him the privilege to get lost between your thighs and drink you up like a man deprived of cold water on a hot day. He’s so eager to please you that you can sense how much he is enjoying this, maybe even more than you are. 

Jaeyun’s tongue swirls at the entrance of your core before he pushes in, tracing the bumps of your wall as he explores your pretty pussy and its tightness; he can only imagine what his cock will feel like clamped inside you, if you grant him the honour to do so.

One thing you crushed on Jaeyun the most over in secondary school was his nose - the prominent feature stood out against everything else and you couldn’t help but marvel at it from time to time. Big noses have been your weakness since your hormones started to kick in and Jaeyun’s was perfect. You know this for a fact now as it brushes on your clit as he slurps and sucks up your cunt.

You revel in the sensation, how his enthusiastic and skilled mouth shivers down your spine. It's a testament to his attention to detail, his dedication to your pleasure evident in every movement, every touch.

His hands paw at your thighs as he loses himself in worshipping your mound. It’s tang on his taste buds only driving him further into madness - he can’t believe how lucky he is in this moment, so much so that he is grinning like a Cheshire cat as he continues to devour you.

“Jaeyun-” you breathe out sharply, the air in your chest leaving your body as he licks fast stipes up to your clit, focusing his attention where he knows you want it most. It is truly remarkable how well he knows you despite only knowing you from afar until now. 

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he mumbles into your cunt, burying his face into you as he laps up the juices that are leaking from your hole, “I’m here to please you, please let me.” Jaeyun doesn’t mean for it to come off as begging but he is so desperate for you he can't help it; and when your thighs tense slightly at his words, he thinks perhaps you want him to plead with you.

You’re so used to being around men who think that they own you, that are superior to you, that as Jaeyun asks you to let him pleasure you, it's a refreshing change. His words, muffled against your wetness, carry a genuine desire to fulfil your every desire. You can feel the sincerity in his actions, the earnestness in his plea.

“I want you to make me cum, please, Jaeyun. I need it so bad,” you whisper into the hot atmosphere that surrounds you both. You’re close and he can sense it too and right now, that is all you care about. You need to feel that satisfaction rush over you, your body is aching for it because it knows Jaeyun can bring you to that peak.

Whimpering below you, Jaeyun loses all sense of control and picks up his pace, his fingers now circling your entrance before slipping into you, scissoring you open in a mix of gentleness and roughness. He loves the idea of being able to touch you like this and make you release over his hand and tongue.

Nibbling at your clit is the final straw and you feel that tightness in your stomach and clench in your pussy as you cry out, cumming all over his face. The whites of your eyes come to the forefront as your entire body rolls and the wave of your climax consumes you like a tsunami. The grip you have on his hair tightens and you hold him in place, your body riding his face as his nose, tongue, and fingers work in tandem with you to help you ride out your high.

You don’t think you’ve cum so hard from just oral, these types of experiences being between you and your toys. Jaeyun is a man above the rest and you can’t wait to have more of him.

As he gently guides your leg back to the ground, his hands steady you as you tremble in the aftermath of pleasure. His thoughts wander, contemplating the possibility of lingering between your thighs for just a few more precious moments, coaxing yet another orgasm from your willing body.

For Jaeyun, the idea of bringing you to such heights of ecstasy is not just a source of pride but pure joy. The thought of surrendering himself completely to your pleasure fills him with a sense of fulfilment like nothing else. In a world where some might find embarrassment, he finds only bliss in the act of surrendering to his woman, to you.

Looking down at him, his eyes locking with yours past your heaving chest, you moan quietly at the sight of him; his hair dishevelled thanks to your hands, your juices over his face and lips which he wipes his fat tongue along to collect, and his eyes filled with pure adoration and lust.

You’re never going to be able to let him go.

Tracing a path of tender kisses along your body, his lips remain in constant contact with your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and sensation in their wake. With each gentle press of his lips, he conveys his adoration and reverence for every inch of you. It's a silent yet powerful declaration of his desire to explore and worship every part of your being.

Once he reaches your neck, he stops, nibbling softly at your nape. "God, you taste so good," he murmurs against your skin, his breath warm against your neck. "I could spend forever right here, just worshipping you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a delicious anticipation building within you at the thought of what's to come. You tilt your head slightly, granting him better access, silently urging him to continue his actions. 

"I could lose myself in you," he continues, his voice husky with desire. "Every touch, every kiss, I want to claim every part of you for myself, even just for tonight.”

His honesty pangs in your chest because what if it is just for tonight? The probability of that is high and yet you don’t dare think about it, the revelation too upsetting for you to consider. So you push it down, committing yourself to enjoy this, regardless of the what-ifs. Having him now is all that matters and you’re going to relish in it.

Grabbing his t-shirt, you yank it off his body and kiss him desperately, your arms finding home around his neck as you waltz him to your bedroom, thankful for your familiarity with your apartment as you weave around coffee tables and decorative baskets.

As you reach the bedroom, a primal need surges between you, an urgency and determination unlike anything you've experienced before. With a sense of raw desire, you turn him around and push him onto the bed, your actions driven by an irresistible force that neither of you can deny.

Straddling him, you see his face light up in excitement and glee as you initiate the next move. Jaeyun loves it when his eagerness is reciprocated and by the way your thighs are squeezing each of his sides and your hands are cradling his face as you kiss him messily, he feels so wanted at this moment.

His hands eagerly grasp at your blouse, urgency guiding his movements as he tears it open and discards it aside. With unbridled desire, he buries his face into your chest, kissing and nibbling at the exposed flesh above your bra. Fingers knead and lift your tits, enhancing the sensation as he revels in the intimate contact between skin and skin.

The heat between you intensifies and Jaeyun's ardour only grows stronger. His lips trail from your chest to your neck, peppering kisses along the sensitive skin, igniting a flurry of sensations that ripple through your body.

With a skilful touch, his hands explore the curves of your body, tracing the contours with a fervent hunger. Fingers dance over the fabric of your bra, teasingly tracing the edges before deftly unhooking it, revealing your breasts in all their glory.

“You’re a fucking dream, Sweetheart,” he confesses, knowing that you have, in fact, clouded his dreams some nights. “You always have been.”

Grabbing his chin gently, you lift his eyes to meet yours and smile fondly, showcasing your affection through your sparkling pupils. “You’re so pretty, Jaeyun,” you utter quietly as each syllable matches the thumping in his chest.

Jaeyun flushes red and smiles brightly, like you’ve just called him a good boy and he’s your golden retriever. What you don’t expect is for him to open his mouth just wide enough to poke his tongue out, asking for something.

It takes a moment for you to grasp his silent request, but once you do, your hold on his chin transitions to his jaw, gently urging it wider as you oblige, softly spitting into his waiting mouth. A soft whimper escapes his throat as his eyes flutter closed, savouring the intimate exchange with an fervour.

Emboldened by the connection between you, you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his in a silent promise of more to come. His response is immediate, a soft moan escaping his lips as he eagerly presses himself against you, seeking to deepen the connection between your bodies.

You feel his clothed cock against your naked heat and suddenly the room is filled with explicit moans, both of you dry-humping one another like horny teens. It’s electric and you both want each other more than any destination or University degree, it feels like you’ve found your hearts true desires in the confines of this bedroom.

“Let me have you,” His plea resonates in the air, heavy with longing and urgency, as his fingertips caress every contour of your exposed skin, eliciting a cascade of goosebumps in their wake. "Please, Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with desire, the intensity of his gaze locking with yours in an unspoken plea for surrender.

“If you let me have you,” you whisper into his mouth, ghosting your lips above his,

“Baby, you’ve had me for a lifetime.”

His response is without a moment of silence, followed by a deep kiss that ignites a fire within you both, drawing you into a passionate embrace. With a gentle yet possessive grip, he pulls you closer, his hands trailing down to caress the curves of your ass. The sharp sound of his gentle slaps mingles with your moans, echoing off the walls as pleasure courses through your veins.

As the heat between you reaches its peak, you break the kiss with a soft gasp, a mischievous glint in your eyes. With a playful smirk, you slide your hands down to the waistband of his trousers, fingers deftly undoing the buttons as you tease him with each deliberate movement.

Jaeyun watches you with a mix of anticipation and desire, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he eagerly awaits your next move. You climb off him for a moment as you peel his trousers and boxers down his legs, revealing his hardened length, aching for your touch. His arousal is evident and his cock is thick and twitching with its need to be buried inside of you.

Discarding the trousers aside, you meet his gaze with a wicked grin, your desire mirroring his as you hover above him. Your eyes sparkle playfully as you slink forward, your lips caress his teasingly, then trail kisses down his chest, creating a path of fire in your wake. Jaeyun's breath hitches as he watches you with rapt attention; his anticipation grows with every second.

Your fingertips follow enticingly down his thighs as you approach his waist, sending shivers of expectation coursing through his body. You gently but firmly guide his legs apart so that you can lower yourself between them for better access.

Grinning slyly, you approach him closely, your breath ghosting over his skin as you torment him with every instant that passes. Then you take him quickly into your mouth and engulf him with a hunger that leaves him panting for air.

Jaeyun surrenders to the thrilling sensation as waves of pleasure rush over him; his hands tangling in your hair as he leads you, lost in the depths of bliss. In this moment, there is nothing but the two of you, bound together by a passion that knows no bounds.

However, as good as your mouth feels, and fuck does it feel good, Jaeyun needs to be enveloped by your warm walls, he craves it like an addiction, and he genuinely thinks that once he gets a taste of you wrapped around him, he might just have to check himself into pussy anonymous.

Using his grip on your hair, he yanks you up off of him, causing confusion to overcome your expression. “Baby, if I’m not fucking you in the next 3 seconds, I might just die,” he laughs but he is serious, you can tell he is by how he’s already grasping his cock with his freehand and holding it in position for you to sink onto it.

So that is exactly what you do. You straddle him one more, lining him up at your entrance before slowly easing your way onto him. With each inch, you take your time, allowing yourself to adjust to his size, the sensation of him filling you completely overwhelming your senses. Jaeyun's hands grip your hips tightly, guiding you as you slowly sink down onto him, his breath catching in his throat as you finally envelop him completely. 

Due to his thickness, you take your time to adjust to his size, grinding on him to open you up a bit more, not that any of you mind because as you do so, the tip of his dick is brushing inside you blissfully. 

"You're taking me so well, beautiful," Jaeyun says, his voice hoarse with need, his hands tracing patterns of heat over your skin. "I was made for you.”

You begin to ride him while moaning gently beneath your breath. At first, your motions are shallow as you slowly elevate your hips. Each motion causes a surge of pleasure to course through your body, sparking a fire that grows more intense with each passing second.

Jaeyun's hands are firmly grasping your hips, directing you as you find your rhythm. His own groans blend with yours to create a symphony of want. Your walls are squeezing his thick cock so tight that each time he lifts you higher, the bell of his cock snags on your entrance, trapping him inside.

“You’re bouncing on my cock so well, Y/N,” he compliments as he kisses you gently on your bouncing tit. His heavy breath mists over your heart and it clenches along with your core. He’s so beautiful and adoring that he has ruined every other man for you.

As the ecstasy consumes both of you, Jaeyun's control starts unravelling and his primitive impulses begin to take over as he loses himself in the intensity of the moment. He jackhammers himself further into you with each thrust and he lets out a howl, completely losing all control of his movements. His thrusts become more frantic and more desperate as he hears your cries of pleasure.

The rhythm of your fucking frenzy transforms into a symphony of desire, the sound of his hips meeting yours echoing off the walls as he pounds into you with unrestrained passion. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

You cling to him desperately, lost in the overwhelming intensity as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure that consumes you. With each powerful buck of his hips, you feel yourself hurtling towards the brink, the sensation building to a fever pitch as you both race towards the climax that awaits.

"F-Fuck, Jaeyun!" you groan out, your voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation as you hug his head between your cleavage, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation coursing through your body.

Jaeyun is completely lost in the moment, his focus solely on the incredible feeling of being enveloped by you. He bites down harshly on one of your breasts, leaving a bruise as a mark of his passion, eliciting a cry of pleasure mixed with a hint of pain from you.

Taking control, Jaeyun’s only objective now is to feel you cumming on his cock, so he picks up the pace, bringing your body down to lie on top of him as he sinks into your mattress. Using his legs as anchors, he thrusts into you with an otherworldly speed, each movement driving you closer to the edge.

“Come on, Sweetheart, cum all over me,” he grits out, all of his focus on his hips.

The slapping of your skin and how his tip is puncturing your cervix is enough to tumble you over, a roar leaving your mouth as you come undone just as he wanted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaeyun!” You can’t form coherent sentences because to put it plainly, the dick is too good. It’s rendered you dumb and the only thoughts in your mind are; Jaeyun, cock, feels good, cumming.

Smiling brightly beneath you, Jaeyun marvels at your face as you let the pleasure take over. Your eyes are screwed shut and your mouth is open wide with short breaths escaping, your chest is panting against his and he can feel your heart race against his.

“That’s it, baby. God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” Jaeyun whispers earnestly.

As you start to relax into the aftermath of your second orgasm of the night, he picks up the pace again, now content to seek his own release. Clawing down your back, he holds your hips still and batters into your sensitive and spent pussy, knowing that the beating it just took must have left you sore, so he needs to cum quickly.

You aid him in his quest for release, showering him with kisses across his chest, neck, and face, your droopy eyes still gleaming with adoration despite the ache that lingers within you. "Jaeyun, you're fucking me so good," you whisper gently into his ear, nibbling at his lobe in a gesture of encouragement that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through him, his length throbbing inside of you in response.

Empowered by your words, Jaeyun's rhythm becomes even more intense, his movements propelled by an innate urge to reach his climax, which between your tight cunt and your seductive words, it doesn’t take him long.

"I'm cumming, fuck, I'm cumming, Baby," Jaeyun mewls, his voice strained with desperation as he tries to push you off of him, but you hold him firmly in place, unwilling to let him escape the imminent release.

With a whispered plea, you encourage him to let go completely, to surrender to the intoxicating pleasure that courses through both of you. "Cum inside me, Jaeyun. Let me feel you," you urge, your voice filled with lust and longing.

He shakes his head and tries to roll over to pull out, yet you remain headstrong and unyielding to his attempts of escape. “I have the implant, Jaeyun, you can cum in me as much as you want.”

The lawyer in you is furious that you’re letting him bust a nut inside of you due to your irresponsibility, but the happy and content you is relishing in the fact that any second, you’re going to be filled with Sim Jaeyun’s seed.

Looking deep into your eyes, he sees you’re serious and huffs out a laugh of joy. It's not that he didn't want to experience the ecstasy of releasing inside you - ask the stars, he did - but he also understands the importance of being responsible.

However, as you resume your rhythm, bouncing on his cock and firmly holding him down by his chest, any lingering hesitation evaporates. He becomes consumed by the overwhelming pleasure, his primal instincts driving him to chase his climax with an intensity that matches yours.

“Cum for me, Jaeyun, please,” you beg, wanting nothing more at this moment.

Coaxed by your words and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him, Jaeyun succumbs to the irresistible urge to release deep inside you. With one final, powerful thrust, he empties himself into you, his hips stilling as he rides out the waves of his high.

"Fuck, Baby, fuck I'm cumming, don't stop."

The sounds that escape his lips are a symphony of pleasure, soft yet needy, low but whiney, a perfect embodiment of every fantasy you've ever entertained. As you massage his chest and shoulders, soothing him down from his orgasm, his features are painted with bliss and love, a smile mirroring your own as he gazes at you with adoration.

"You're amazing, truly out of this world, Y/N L/N," Jaeyun huffs out, his voice filled with reverence and admiration.

Gently moving you off him, he guides your head to the pillow before hovering over you, peppering your lips with affectionate kisses. Finally, he settles on top of you, his head resting against your chest, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat calming him instantly.

Resting his chin in the valley between your breasts, Jaeyun's touch is gentle as he reaches up, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. There's a glimmer of something in his eyes, a silent contemplation that leaves you wondering what he's about to say next.

For a fleeting moment, you fear he might choose to end the encounter, bidding you farewell with a polite smile and a promise to call. But to your surprise, he does the opposite.

"Come with me, Y/N," he says, his voice soft yet filled with determination.

Stunned, you feel your chest tighten as you replay his words in your mind, each repetition only adding to the disbelief that swirls within you. There is no way he is asking you this when this is the first time you’ve really spoken to one another. He might as well be asking a blind date he’s just met to leave with him.

"What?" you manage to utter, blinking at him in shock.

For Jaeyun, however, there's no hesitation. In his heart, nothing has ever felt more right. He's harboured feelings for you for so long that now, with you in his arms, he's determined not to let you slip away so easily, even if that means proposing a notion that can be deemed outlandish.

"To Malta, to everywhere you want to go," he continues, his voice filled with sincerity and a touch of vulnerability. "Come with me."

You stay silent, nervously biting your lip, there isn’t much you can say, your inner battle between your head and your heart make it difficult to hear anything clearly. 

Noticing your silence, he offers you a gentle smile and grabs one of your hands, kissing your palm gently. “Y/N, you’re miserable here, I can feel it. You’ve practically said it yourself,” he argues with you even if he cannot hear your turmoil, “Think about it; you come with me, experience everything you’ve ever wanted, study Immigration Law at one of those Open Universities if you want, or do literally anything else that makes you happy.”

You shake your head. "I'm not miserable, Jaeyun."

“Then tell me you’re happy.”

Silence ensues. A profound quietness fills the space because...you can't. You can't fabricate happiness. Are you content with your life? Undoubtedly. But true happiness eludes you. Until he posed that question, until you stood eye to eye with him, you had mistaken contentment for fulfilment, believing that your family and friends held the key to your happiness, that working hard to get to the top of your law firm was all you could want. But you aren't truly happy.

“Y/N, I came here for you,” he admits, his voice just above a whisper.

“What do you mean?” you ask, confusion palpable in your manner.

“I was supposed to be leaving the UK straight to Malta. I had my bags packed and ready to go and then I got your message on Instagram. Before I could even reply, I was changing my flight to come home to see you. I just…I couldn’t let the chance of seeing you pass me by,” his voice quivers with raw emotion as he speaks, his grasp on your hand tightening,  “Do you know how many times I’ve hovered over that stupid send button, desperate to reach out but was too scared to? When you got that letter and messaged me about it, I knew this was my only shot and I couldn’t waste it.”

Jaeyun, deep down, is still the scared teenage boy who wrote you that letter. You can see him fighting himself, terrified that as he pours his heart out to you that it’ll be a disaster, but he has spent so long contemplating what life could have been had he just plucked up the courage that right now, he’s powering through his insecurities to try and reach your heart.

You sit up, intertwining his fingers in yours as a form of reassurance. “Did you come here to see if I would come with you?” you query, the tone of your voice light despite the heaviness of the subject.

"No, I came here because I wanted to see you and...to see if I could find some closure for teenage me," Jaeyun begins, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. The nakedness of both of you both being and soul amplifies the vulnerability that envelops you. "But I can't bear the thought of losing you again."

"You don't really know me, Jaeyun," you counter, not with hostility but with a sense of realism. 

How could he be so sure he wants you by his side when he knows you as far as he could throw you? Sure, you have both connected in a way you didn’t know was possible in the past 7 hours, and you have in some way known one another for years, but you don’t know each other. Not enough to leave the country with him…right?

With a sigh, Jaeyun gently strokes your hair, his gaze softening with affection. "I do know you, Y/N. I see you for everything you are, I always have," he insists, his voice now infused with unwavering determination. “I don’t know if I love you the same way I did ten years ago, we’re both different people. But I want the chance to find out, I want the chance to fall in love with you as you are right now.”

You stare into his eyes, contemplating your future. You could stay here and go about your life as is, sitting in a swimming pool of ‘what could have been’, forced to see bosses who could never give you the time of day, or you could follow Jaeyun, explore the world and let your hair down, meet new people and enjoy everything that life is supposed to be. Pragmatically, you have enough savings to get you by and worst case, you work shitty jobs in beautiful cities.

There is nothing holding you back except yourself.

With a beaming smile, you nod a silent promise to him. “Can we go to Venice?”

Jaeyun's eyes widen in surprise at your request, a flicker of disbelief dancing in their depths. But as he takes in the earnestness in your gaze, the longing for adventure and new beginnings, his heart swells with a profound sense of gratitude.

"Venice, huh?" he echoes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let's do it.”

The words hang between you, laden with the promise of excitement and possibility. You leap forward and kiss him, pushing his back onto the mattress once again, enjoying the moment with him, knowing it’s not the end but the beginning of future you.

perm taglist: @immortalvee @snoopypupp @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @pockettwinzz @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @emi-en @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @iikeustar @shawnyle

[lyss-draws-sometimes]

So, I don’t really know why I’m typing this out, but I kind of just want it to be physically stated somewhere, I think.

For a while I didn’t really know what my sexuality was, I figured out I wasn’t straight fairly easily, but from there I never was too sure about what I actually was.

At first I thought maybe I was pan, because I didn’t feel any sort of preference toward anybody, but it never felt quite right. It didn’t take that long for me to figure out that I was asexual, but still saying I was pan ace didn’t feel right either. I kind of put it aside though, because I didn’t feel like it mattered too much to me, and I wasn’t particularly interested in romantic relationships.

So it stayed in the back of my mind for a while, but was never something I thought about too much, but I started to hear about other people’s experiences and what they felt, and slowly but surely I started to figure stuff out. Whenever I heard about the experiences and feelings of people who were aromantic, it sounded a lot like what I felt, and all of a sudden I came to a realization.

“Didn’t feel a preference towards anybody” “Not particularly interested in romantic relationships” … I am surprised it took me so long to realize, but, yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m on the aromantic spectrum

So, just because I don’t really have anybody to tell it too, and I wanna say it somewhere: I am arospec and ace!

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Nursle.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 3.4k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Mentions of Pregnancy, Implied Stalking, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Lactation, Slight Breeding Kinks, Daddy Kinks, Mentions of Abusive Relationships, and Age Gaps (Gojo is 20, Reader is 35+).

[Part Two]

A few days into the new school year, you decided that Gojo Satoru could not be Fushiguro Megumi’s primary guardian, despite what the paperwork filed by the former claimed. Honestly, the fact that Megumi’s name had been misspelled in every conceivable way across the aforementioned paperwork should’ve been enough to make that clear, but after a decade of teaching, you’d learned to pick up on the smaller signs; a certain discomfort that passed through Megumi's expression whenever you asked about his homelife, the lapse before a half-hearted answer whenever you posed a question to Satoru as to Megumi's preferences. It didn’t necessarily mean anything bad was going on, just that something was going on - something you couldn’t ignore, not completely.

Four weeks into the new school year, you decided that Fushiguro Megumi did not like Gojo Satoru. All your students were at the age where they were suddenly eager to distance themselves from any adult they could call an authority, but Megumi was the only one still in your classroom hours after the school day ended, the only one who stayed for as long as you could afford to let him. Sometimes, Satoru would make an appearance, loiter outside of your classroom or pass time with the best attempts at small talk someone nearly two decades your junior could make, but Megumi made a habit of ignoring him and try as you might, you'd never had the heart to be very strict with your students. The only days he didn’t stay to help you (as much as a nine year old could help anyone do anything) were the days when his sister was free to pick him up and, much to your relief, Satoru was nowhere to be found.

Two months into the new school year, you found yourself on the doorstep of Gojo Satoru’s listed address which, notably, was not the dingy flat you’d dropped off Megumi in front of whenever he stayed too late to justify letting him walk home alone. Instead, you gaped openly at the skyscraper in front of you, as tall as the eye could see and pouring out the kind of people you couldn’t help but want to get away from. You’d called ahead, let Satoru know you’d be making a home visit to discuss some of your concerns about Megumi, but for as long as he’d kept you on the phone, he’d never bothered to explain why he would ask you to meet him in a place like—

“You’re early, Miss (L/n).”

You stiffened, glanced over your shoulder to find Gojo Satoru – dressed in his usual plain, black uniform and unaccompanied by the student you’d come to discuss. He greeted you with a wide grin, a lazy nod, and you returned it with a purse-lipped smile and a tightened hold on the strap of your messenger bag. “Well, I’d hate to waste your time.” You toyed with the idea of meeting his eyes, but your gaze skirted over the pitch-black lenses of his sunglasses and settled firmly on the collar of his button-up. “And you don’t have to call me that. It makes you sound like one of my students and—” A slight pause, a nervous laugh. “I think you might be a little too old to blend in.”

Satoru’s grin only widened. With only your own paranoia as warning, he strung an arm through the crook of yours, dragging you towards the entrance of his looming tower. “I think it’s got a nice ring to it, Miss.”

Something sharp pricked at the back of your throat.

In hindsight, it might’ve been easier to do this with the nine year old.

You kept your teeth grit and your smile plastered on as he led you through the lobby – all shining crystal chandeliers and glistening marble floors – and hauled you into a gold-gilded elevator, the kind that would’ve let you know you were somewhere you didn’t belong under normal circumstances. You watched in stomach-knotting, heart-stopping terror as the numbers ticked up, up, up, until the mirrored doors were sliding open and you were stepping into the living room that could’ve swallowed your shoebox of an apartment whole. Your heels (blocked, low, practical – the only pair you’d found the strength to wear since coming back from your leave) clicked against the bare tile floor as you stumbled into the remarkably open space, his furniture sparse and largely utilitarian. You spotted one of Megumi’s drawings on a low coffee table, a pile of Tsumiki’s hairbands forgotten on an otherwise empty bookshelf, but any other signs of life were either nonexistent or exceptionally well-hidden. Any hope you had that Megumi and Satoru’s situation might’ve just been that of a young, overburdened guardian and his slow-to-warm ward evaporated immediately. Those of limited means tended not to live in penthouses that cost triple your annual salary in rent.

If Satoru noticed your growing anxiety, he didn’t seem to pay it any mind. With an exaggerated yawn, he strode past you and collapsed onto a leather couch – too pristine to have been recently visited by two hyperactive children. When you stalled near the entryway, he let his head lull to the side, his tinted glasses falling low on the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to be shy. There’s plenty of room – not that I mind the view, if you really wanna stand.”

You took a deep breath and let it out in a long, labored exhale. He’s practically a kid, you reminded yourself. You could only be thankful you hadn’t gotten him a couple of years ago – otherwise, you’d be dealing with an actual child.

Reluctantly, you squared your shoulders and perched yourself on the far edge of the sofa. Satoru immediately closed the distance, draping his lanky arms over the back of the couch, his fingertips just barely brushing against your shoulder. You pulled your messenger bag into your lap, opening your mouth as you looked for Megumi’s file, but Satoru cut in before you could start your well-practiced monologue. “This is your first year at his school, right? I’d remember if I saw a teacher as pretty as you around campus.”

“It’s my first year back,” you corrected. “I’ve noticed Megumi very introverted for a boy his—”

“Let me guess – maternity leave?”

Your lips quirked into a tight frown. Fighting the urge to cross your arms over your stomach self-consciously, you sent him a withering look out of the corner of your eye. “I’d rather not talk about my personal life, if it’s all the same to you. Like I said, I’m not here to waste your time.”

Your tone was clipped, your voice strict, but Satoru’s only response was an airy chuckle, a careless grin. “I’m not in a rush,” he said. “But you’re probably eager to get back home to your baby girl. I know you try to spend time with her on weekends.”

This time, you didn’t try to breathe. Letting your bag fall back to your side, you moved to stand, but Satoru was quick to catch you by the wrist, to pull you back down with a single, playful jerk. Your bag fell off of your shoulder, hitting the floor and spilling open at your feet, but you didn’t reach for it. He was stronger than he looked, and you already knew everything you had to about strong young men with more power than they knew what to do with. “I’d really rather not talk about myself when Megumi is—”

“Can’t be easy, leaving her all alone like that. Did you ask your neighbor to babysit again, or was it that brat of a teenager you call up on weekends?” His hand fell to your thigh, and you immediately regretted wearing a dress, let alone one that ended well before the knee. You’d wanted this to seem causal, unintrusive, but as his fingertips bit into the plush of your thigh, you regretted not going straight to the police as soon as you noticed something strange. “Can’t be easy, not having a husband to dote on you and the little princess anymore.”

You keep your eyes on your feet, on one of the manilla folders spilling out of your bag. Megumi's name was scrawled messily across the upper right corner in red pen, because red was his favorite color and you knew he would see it every time he helped you organize paperwork for your other students. “I appreciate your concern, but we’ve managed to take care of ourselves.”

“I know.” He was close, too close. You could feel his breath, hot and humid, against the shell of your ear. “It’s just that I think I might just be able to take care of you a little better.”

“I think I should leave.” You spoke slowly, your tone flat, factual. Like you were talking to a child, or a dog, or worst of all – a man in monks' clothing, ready to worship at his own alter. “Before either of us does anything we might regret.”

Satoru let his lead lull forward, his fanged smile biting into the corner of your jaw.

You tried to bolt, but it was already too late.

It happened too quickly for you to process. One second, you were writhing in your own skin, your favorite student’s neglectful guardian pressed into your side and the next, you were on your back, splayed over the length of his couch, Satoru’s knee between your open legs and his hands on either side of your head. Your body reacted before your mind, trying to run, to resist, to get away from him, but Satoru’s hand was on your chest before you could so much as sit up, keeping you trapped underneath him without a trace of effort. “You can stop working so hard, momma.” His glasses had fallen away completely, revealing eyes as blinding as the cloudless sky and as unfeeling as raw ice. It was hard to remember why you’d ever thought a man like this could ever have anything to do with a boy as sweet as Megumi. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you.”

You shouldn’t have been so worried about the dress. It didn’t matter how long your skirt was, not when the cheap material fell apart so easily under his eager touch – your bra and panties discarded with just as little thought. You panicked, started to kick and shove and thrash, but his hands were already locked over your hips, keeping you pinned to the couch as he bent down and buried his face between your thighs. However young you’d thought he was, he must’ve been younger; his inexperience shining through in the overzealous way he nipped at the inside of your thighs, how hastily he laved the flat of his tongue over your slit. His pace was rough, his technique nonexistent, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had time to touch yourself, and you hadn’t slept with someone else since…

This time, when your mind went blank, you were the one willing away fractured thoughts and bitter memories. You didn’t want to acknowledge the twisted pleasure Satoru was forcing onto your body either, but it would’ve been impossible to ignore the way his teeth grazed over your clit as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, to not hear the slick sound you just couldn’t seem to believe a part of you would make as he forced two fingers into your tight pussy. You threw your head back, clenched your eyes shut, but no amount of aversion could seem to block out his throaty laugh, to make the reverberations his deep voice sent pulsing through your cunt anything short of unbearable. “Needy little thing,” he muttered, pulling away just far enough to press a lingering kiss into the apex of your hip. “Bet he was neglecting you even before you ran off. Is that why you had to leave him? He didn’t know how to treat a pretty thing like you?”

You would’ve given anything to make him stop talking, but you didn’t have a chance to try and bargain. While his fingers pumped mercilessly into your pussy, his mouth pushed slow, wet kisses into the rounded curves of your stomach, your midriff, your chest. He noticed it before you did; saw the thin trail of thin, near-transparent fluid running down the curve of your chest before you felt the telltale soreness in your breasts, managed to draw a connection between that and the shallow, airy moan Satoru let out as he ran his tongue over your leaking nipple. He took long, agonizing seconds to lick up the spilled milk before his lips found the closest nipple and finally, he latched onto you properly.

He was worse than your newborn. It was an awful thing to think, it was a terrible thing to have to think, but it was true. He was rough, and clumsy, and noisy – groaning as he lapped and sucked, eager to swallow down anything you had to give. Drool seeped out of the corner of his mouth, whatever pain he might’ve alleviated immediately replaced as the fingertips of his free hand kneaded into your swollen tit. By the time he pulled away, he was panting, scissoring open your pussy with enough force to leave your toes curling, your thighs twitching, little involuntary whimpers slipping past your lips despite your best efforts to choke them back.

He didn’t so much earn your climax as drag it out of you, piece by fractured piece, broken moan by stuttering convulsion. Your hands shot to his head, fingers soon knotted through messy white hair, but he didn’t seem to care, didn’t seem to mind, his attention devoted entirely to spreading open your cunt and milking your chest dry even as the last of the aftershocks faded and the first pangs of overstimulation began to set in. When he did pull away from you, it was with an exaggerated smack of his lips, a teasing nudge of the heel of his palm against your clit, a cocky smirk that reminded you of the expression Megumi would sometimes draw onto his doodled stick figures as they were hit with simplistic, two-dimensional cars or torn apart by black and white wolves. That was something you’d meant to bring up during your conversation with Satoru – Megumi’s tendency towards more violent forms of creativity, how it could be an early sign of emotional unrest in children too young to properly express themselves. Now, you could only wonder why he didn’t draw Satoru more often.

You were barely conscious by the time he drew back working one arm under your back and another under the bend of your knees. You let your eyes fall shut and, by the time you found the strength to open them again, you were on your back, dark satin sheets underneath you and Satoru above, snowy hair providing a much-appreciated barrier between you and those terrible eyes. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from meeting his prying gaze, and he welcomed your bleary stare, drinking you in for one second, then another, before dipping that much lower and slotting his lips against yours. The kiss was surprisingly gentle – all slow tenderness and delicate warmth. Your mind flitted back to dark eyes and pitch-black hair, pointed teeth and deceiving smiles and you willed yourself not to think at all.

You heard fabric shift, felt his hands curl around your thighs. With an aching sort of slowness, he pushed your knees into your chest, leaving you spread open and vulnerable below him. You felt the head of his cock press against your slick entrance, heard a raspy groan trickle past his lips as he thrust into you – bottoming out in the same stroke.

He didn’t wait for you to adjust to his size. With his face buried in the crook of your neck, he rutted into you with short, brutal thrusts; never pulling out of you entirely, never happy unless his cock was abusing the deepest pocket of your wet heat. Immediately, it was overwhelming – too much stimulation being forced onto you too quickly with too little preparation. Your hands fell to his back, your nails biting into his skin as he fucked into you with a jagged kind of desperation. His cock scraped against something soft and spongy inside of you and you cried out, arching against him. “I can’t— It hurts, Gojo, slow—”

“C’mon, baby, you can do better than that.” His voice was low, airy. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the corner of your jaw, rolled his hips and pressed himself that much deeper into you. “What’s my name? Who’s takin' care of you from now on?”

It was more an act of desperation than anything; a broken plea that you could barely recognize as your own voice. “Daddy,” you sobbed, shrinking against him. “Please, don’t cum insi—”

You were cut off by an unabashed moan, the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you. His hips pressed into yours, his thrusts growing shorter, more violent as he pumped something warm and awful into your pussy. At the same time, his thumb found your clit, pushing harsh circles into the vulnerable bundle of nerves and bringing your exhausted body to its second climax. Your vision burnt white as your cunt clenched around him, as his thrusts turned labored and languid, as collapsed against you – limp and boneless. Idly, almost lovingly, he nuzzled into the side of your neck, letting several seconds pass in silence before sighing, the pinnacle of satisfaction. Eventually, he picked himself up, resting his weight on his elbows as he cupped your face. “Pretty girl. I think the brat’s got a crush on you, too – always going on about his favorite teacher, telling me to keep my dirty hands away from you.” He laughed, shook his head. “Think he’ll be excited to have a younger sister?”

You didn’t answer, but Satoru didn’t need you to. He was already picking himself up, already pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck as he straightened his back, staring down at you with eyes that must’ve gone lifeless years ago. Eyes that, despite your best efforts to ignore their similarities, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d seen before.

“Speaking of, I think it’s about time we checked on our baby girl.”

~

Less than an hour later, you found yourself in your makeshift nursery; the corner of your bedroom occupied by a crib and a few shelves of miscellaneous supplies. You sat on the foot of your bed as Satoru held your daughter in his arms, rocking her as she sniffled and threatened to cry. You’d taken a taxi back to your apartment – called up and paid for by Satoru, of course. He’d given the driver your address before you so could so much as process where he was taking you, something you were currently choosing to ignore.

“She looks just like him.” His tone was light, his smile soft. He gestured to your daughter’s curly tufts of dark hair, her brown eyes – both only a shade away from black. “It’ll get worse as she grows up. He was always like that – couldn’t stand to let anyone else be the center of attention.”

You felt sick. Black spots still danced in the corners of your vision, and it took all your strength just to choke something coherent out. “He’ll never meet her. I’d die before I ever let him put his hands on my daughter.”

“I know, baby, I know.” He flashed you a grin, then turned back to your daughter. “I’m gonna keep both of you safe, be such a good daddy to both my pretty girls.” He pulled her that much closer to him, pressing a ginger kiss into her forehead. “You know, you really gotta open up more. I tried as hard as I could, but I don’t think I ever managed to catch her name.”

That made sense. You tended not to use it, when you could help it, when you were strong enough not to think about the man who’d given it to her – the man who’d tried to take yours, before you’d gotten away from him and and his monsters. You weren’t feeling very strong right now, though.

“Himari,” you mumbled, the sound of it alone still enough to steal the air out of your lungs, to leave the taste of blood heavy on your tongue.

“Geto Himari.”

[morgana-larkin]

Haii okay here’s my angst request! I love a good regretful jealous Mel hehehe. I was thinking you’re both teachers and she likes u but is like “I’m too cool for pining” so she does the extreme opposite and is kinda standoff-ish or blunt w u at school. When you’re alone she’s a little better but still not super lovey dovey. You “take the hint” and move on, and someone new comes into ur life (can you PLEASE for the LOVE OF GOD name this rando new person joy??). And then one day Mel’s like “let’s be official” And you’re like what? Why? I thought u didn’t like me also I have Joy now. And then Mel’s like wtf and she gets rlly jealous when she sees u w her now and then she tries to sabotage y’all’s blooming relationship. In the end maybe no happy ending pls?? If ur comfortable writing that :)

Hehe I LOVE a good heartbreak. Also I’m obsessed w joy Huerta (hence my username) and have been asking everyone to use it in fics AND PPL DONT ALFJKS. lmao anyways. I hope this is sumn ur comfortable writing!

OMG! you’re really testing me here! If I’m honest, it was hard to write. I rewrote it a few times, it hurt a little, might make a part 2. Honestly if even one person requests a part 2 with a happy ending then I will write one. As always, not edited in the slightest, I hope you like it!

On another note: keep sending prompts for one shots! I decided to write one shots about Chessy from parent trap played by our favourite redhead, Lisa Ann Walter, so you can send prompts for her too!

Green Isn’t Your Colour

Warnings: (where do I start lol) Jealous Mel, upset Mel, a bit of toxic Mel, angst and no comfort, no happy ending , good luck lol

Words: 3.2k

You walk in through the entrance of Abbott Elementary. You’ve been here for a year already and you’re finally feeling like you’re settling in. You’re a third grade teacher, you helped Melissa out as she wouldn’t have another split class again and that made her happy from the day you got there and hearing the news.

You walk into the break room, hot chocolate in hand, you don’t like coffee that much, but nothing could beat a good hot chocolate. You go and sit on an empty table, taking some tests out and start marking them. Melissa looks over at you from her table. She looks at the way you’re flawlessly marking, glasses on and concentrating on what you’re doing.

You glance up as you feel like you’re being watched and see Melissa looking at you, but then she quickly looks away when you notice and you smile. You liked her since you first set eyes on her and it only grew from there. But lately it seems like she’s off and you’re unsure why. She was nice to you when you started but now it’s like she’s the opposite and you don’t know why. You asked everyone else if they could answer why she’s different but no one noticed the change.

You got up and picked up the tests and decided to just carry them to your classroom. You passed by Melissa on the way out. “See you later Melissa.” You told her with a smile. She just nodded her head at you and went back to her phone. You looked at Barb and she just shrugged, not noticing a difference.

During your second period prep you finished marking the tests with a breath of relief. Just then Melissa knocks on your door and you look at her and smile. “Hey Melissa.” You tell her and she just has a neutral face and you drop your smile.

“I found the book you were asking for. The little eagles liked it last year and I’m sure they’ll like it again.” She said and handed you the book.

“Oh perfect, thank you.” You told her and smiled at the book. Melissa looked at you and couldn’t help the small smile forming at your excitement of the book. And you looked up at her to see the small smile on her face. “Hey Melissa, can I ask you something?” You asked and she looked at you confused.

“You can but it doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” Melissa said.

“Um ok. Well I was just wondering why you’re acting differently around me?” You ask and she looks at you with a neutral face again.

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“Well you were nice to me last year but now you’re acting distant and I don’t know why.” You asked her. “Did I do something wrong?” You added and that took her by surprise. She doesn’t want you to think you did anything wrong because you didn’t. Melissa has a crush on you and she doesn’t want to show it or let anyone know, and her acting nicely to you last year definitely raised suspicions, so she went back to how she acts with everyone else.

“You didn’t do anything kid. This is just how I am with people.” She said.

“You’re not like that with Barb.” You said.

“Barb is my best friend, so of course I’m nice to her.”

“What about Janine? Jacob? Gregory? Or when Ava at times? You’re nice to them.” You told her, getting a little frustrated.

“That’s because they’re my friends.” She said and you were taken back by that and it definitely stung. Melissa looks at your expression and knew she shouldn’t have said that. She does think of you as a friend but it just slipped out.

“Oh ok, well glad to know where we stand then, just co workers. Thank you for the book Ms. Schemmenti, I’ll return it tomorrow.” You tell her and go back to your desk. “If that was all then if you don’t mind, I have a lesson plan to do.” You told her and she nodded her head.

“See ya around kid.” She said and left. She knew she fucked up there. She’ll have to start being a bit nicer to you to get back in your good graces.

Back in your classroom you took a big breath. You thought you and Melissa were friends but I guess you were wrong. No wonder she’s always short and blunt with you.

The next day you were at the coffee shop, receiving your hot chocolate like always, turning around to leave and bumped into someone, spilling your hot chocolate all over them and a bit on yourself.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I just wanted to talk to you and didn’t expect you to turn around.” The person said.

“Oh well I feel like I should be apologising, my hot chocolate mostly went on you. Wait, you wanted to talk to me? Why?”

“Because I see you in here everyday and I think you’re pretty.” She said with a blush and you blushed at her compliment.

“Oh uh th-thank you.” You stuttered a bit, not used to compliments.

“Can I buy you another hot chocolate? As an apology?” She said and you looked at her.

“Oh you don’t have too.”

“I want to though. Please, I insist.” She said and you smiled at her. She bought you another hot chocolate and handed it to you with a smile. “And there we go.” She said.

“Thank you.” You told her and saw the time. “Oh I gotta get to work.” You told her.

“Oh that’s alright I understand. I’ll see you again tomorrow?” She asked.

“Ya, I come here, same time every day.” You said with a smile and began to leave but turned around to her. “I never got your name btw.”

“It’s Joy.” She told you.

“I’m y/n.” You tell her and she smiles.

“You have a lovely name, it suits you.” She tells you. You blush and leave the coffee shop. You get to the school and immediately go to your classroom instead of the break room. You put your stuff done and see the book that Melissa gave you yesterday sitting on your desk. You might as well return it now, you got a few minutes before the students get here. You picked up the book and walked to the classroom next to yours and knocked on the open door. Melissa was stapling something and looked up at you and gave you a little smile.

Your heart fluttered a little at the smile and you remembered what she said yesterday. “Hi Ms Schemmenti, I came to return the book.” You told her, and held the book up.

She looked at you and remembered what happened yesterday and sighed. “Thanks y/n” she said and got up and walked over to you to take the book. “Did the little eagles like it?” She asked.

“Ya they did.” You said confused at her using your actual name

“I knew they would. You can borrow it whenever you want.” She told you and you offered her a small smile and nodded your head.

“Thanks Ms Schemmenti, I’ll keep that in mind.” You told her and left. She stared at you as you walked back to your own classroom and did a huge sigh and leaned back against her door.

A month goes by and you run into Joy everyday at the coffee shop. She took it upon herself to order you a hot chocolate and have it ready by the time you get there. You kept offering her the money for it but she always refuses, saying your company was payment enough. You exchanged numbers after a couple days and started texting for hours on end. By the second week she asked you out on a date and you said yes. By the third week she asked you to be her girlfriend to which you agreed excitedly.

At school, you noticed that Melissa has been a bit friendlier with you. You took her sudden change with caution though, you don’t want to get hurt again.

For Melissa, she wants to ask you out but she keeps getting scared. But after a month of being friendly with you, she decides to bite the bullet and just do it. She went to go see you at your classroom after the students left on Monday.

“Hey y/n, can I ask you something?” She asked you as she stepped in your classroom.

“Sure Melissa, what’s up?” You said and she smiled. You’ve been calling her by her first name again for about a week, and after you calling her Ms Schemmenti for 3 weeks, well she still smiles when you call her Melissa now.

“I wanted to ask you on a date.” She says and you look at her and freeze.

“What?” You ask, confused as hell.

“I wanted to officially ask you on a date.” She says and you look at her confused.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“I thought you didn’t like me.” You tell her and she looks a bit guilty.

“I never not liked you, when I realised I liked you near the end of the last year, I didn’t want to give away my feelings so I started acting distant towards you.” She says and looks down for a second then back up at you. “So will you go on a date with me?” She asks again.

“No.” You told her and she looked upset. “I did like you but I have a girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend? I thought you were single.” She says confused and still hurt.

“I was, until 2 weeks ago, her name is Joy.” You said with a smile. And Melissa looks at you with a bit of fire in her eyes. “If she’s real then I would like to meet her.” She tells you, crossing her arms,

“Oh ok, ya sure. I can ask if she can come meet everyone tomorrow morning if you want.” You tell her.

“Ok, I look forward to meeting her then.” Melissa says and leaves disappointed.

You asked Joy if she wanted to meet your coworkers tomorrow morning and she excitedly agreed immediately.

So the next morning, you meet Joy at the coffee shop as usual and she hands you your hot chocolate then you drive over to the school and walk in with her. You head to the break room with her and enter and all eyes look up at you and her.

“Everyone, I would like you to meet Joy, my girlfriend. Joy, this is Janine, Jacob, Gregory, Barb, Ava.” You said, pointing to everyone as you said their name. “And this is Melissa, the one who asked to meet you.”

“Hi everyone! And hi Melissa, I’m very much real as you can see.” Joy says and Melissa doesn’t look happy, she crosses her arms and the fire in her eyes come back. She thought you were lying and would have to keep being nicer to you before you agree to go on a date with her. Barb notices Melissa getting angry and puts a hand on her arm and that startles her and then just sits there, staring at you. She sees you being all happy as Jacob and Janine got up to come say hi to your girlfriend.

She wanted to be that person, be your girlfriend and she blew it. But then remembered that you said yesterday that you did have feelings for her, so maybe you still do. Then she smiles at that thought and thinks of different ways to play it. Joy would have to go of course, she ain’t gonna put a hit on her but instead she’ll try to sabotage it, and to do that, she’ll have to be nice first and get information.

So she gets up and goes over to you two. “Hi, nice to meet you. Ya I didn’t think you were real when y/n here as been single since I’ve known her.” She says to your girlfriend then proceeds to put an arm around your back as she mentions you being single and your eyes widen a bit.

“Oh that’s alright, it was a shock to y/n too when I asked her.” Joy says, and Melissa thinks it’s a shame she’ll have to sabotage it as she seems nice. But this person is getting in the way of her happiness so she gots to go.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you two meet?” Melissa asks.

“Oh we met at the coffee shop down the street, the one you told me about and I get a hot chocolate there every morning. And then I bumped into Joy about a month ago, like physically bumped into her and spilled my drink all over her.” You say with a chuckle.

“Ya she did but it was my fault, I saw her there every morning and after a couple weeks I decided to go talk to her and didn’t expect her to turn around at that very moment. So I offered to get her a replacement one and then we started talking.” Joy said with a smile.

And you noticed how Melissa’s hand got a bit lower on your back and you subtly get out of her grip and say an excuse. “Joy, do you want to go see my classroom?” You ask her and she immediately said yes. Joy waves bye to everyone and they all tell her it was nice to meet her and hope to see her again. And Melissa thinks that if it goes according to plan then she won’t be back to see them again.

At the end of the day, Melissa visits your classroom. “Hey y/n.” She says as you’re packing your things up.

“Oh hey Melissa. What’s up?” You ask her and sling your bag over your shoulders.

“Well I was wondering if I could go with you to the coffee shop tomorrow? I haven’t been there in awhile and wouldn’t mind a good store bought coffee once in awhile instead of one from the break room.” She says and you look at her confused.

“Oh I always meet Joy at the coffee shop in the morning.” You say and Melissa smiles, she knew it.

“Well that’s alright, maybe I could get to know her better then.” She says and you agree and tell her the time that you meet up with Joy.

The next morning, Melissa gets to the coffee shop first and orders a coffee for her and a hot chocolate for you. You and Joy come in a couple minutes later and see Melissa near a table with 2 drinks. “Hey Melissa.” You say and she looks over at you and smiles.

“Hey y/n and Joy. Here y/n, I got you a hot chocolate.” She says and sees the frown on Joy’s face before smiling again. Melissa smiles at that, she knew that Joy was still getting you a hot chocolate every morning. You said it yesterday to Janine and Jacob. “I would have gotten something for you but I forgot to ask y/n here what you like.” Melissa says and puts a hand on your shoulder.

Joy looks at the interaction and gives a confused look. “That’s alright, I’ll just go get a drink for myself. I’ll be right back.” She says and you and Melissa nod.

You look at Melissa a little confused. “Why are you being so much nicer all of a sudden?” You say to her and she just shrugs, feigning innocence.

“I don’t know what you mean y/n? I’m just getting to know your little girlfriend over there.” She says and hits you, Melissa is jealous.

“Melissa, are you jealous?” You asked and she scoffs. “I’m being serious, yesterday you asked me out saying you liked me. And now you’re at the coffee shop that I meet Joy at every morning and meeting nicer to me in front of her.”

“I’m just trying to make sure that she’s right for you, is all.” Trying to cover up the fact that you were right.

Before either of you can say anything else, Joy comes back with her drink. “Hey y/n, I would like to stay longer but worked called and asked if I could come in earlier. Like right now earlier. And I wouldn’t mind the extra cash.” She says and you nod.

“That’s alright, I understand, have a good day at work.” You tell her and she gives you a goodbye kiss on the lips and the fire in Melissa’s eyes return.

“Alright thanks for understanding, it was nice seeing you again Melissa.”

“Ya you too.” Melissa says back to her. Melissa didn’t like that kiss, and worse is that the only issue she has with Joy is that she’s with you. Other than that, Joy seems like a nice person, and she hates that fact.

At the end of the day Melissa stops by your classroom again. “Hey y/n.”

“Should I expect this to be a daily occurrence? You stopping by my classroom at the end of the day?” You say with a laugh and she gives a small laugh at that.

“Maybe.” She says and closes your door and walks up to you. You look at her confused for closing the door, but then think she probably wants to talk to you privately. “I don’t like her. Your girlfriend.” She says and you frown.

“Why?”

“I don't know, there’s just something about her that I don’t like.”

“Well you’ve only just met her. If you see her more then you might grow to like her.” You tell her with a smile.

“No I won’t actually.” She says and you’re confused.

“And how do you know you won’t?”

She looks you dead in the eyes and walks closer to you. “Because as long as she’s with you, then I won’t like her.” She says and she got very close to you and you had to walk back and you end up backing into your desk and she puts her hands on the desk on both sides of you, effectively trapping you. You look at her with wide eyes.

“Melissa, I-” and you don’t get to say what you were about to as her lips are on yours. You begin to kiss her back and then push her off. “Melissa what the fuck? You know I’m with Joy.” You tell her and she smirks.

“Then why did you kiss me back? And don’t deny it. I know you did before you pushed me off.” And you look at her speechless since she’s right. Melissa smiles at you and goes to kiss you again but you stop her.

“No Melissa, I’m with Joy now.” You tell her and she frowns.

“You wouldn’t rather be with me?” She asks and you shake your head.

“I’m happy with who I’m with. I’m sorry.” You tell her and walk out of your classroom, leaving behind a hurt Melissa who has a tear rolling down her cheek.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

If you want to be added then let me know!

[sturniozo]

Savage Love Part Seven

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

masterlist

“It was nice, he was a gentleman, I think I’m his girlfriend now, and-“

“Woah woah woah.” Emma interrupts me. “You’re his girlfriend now?”

“Yeah, actually I think he believed Ive been his girlfriend for a while.” I laugh softly.

“How? Why?”

“I’m not sure, this is confusing to me too.”

“I bet it has something to do with what happened that night. Did you find anything out?”

“No, he doesn’t talk much. He mostly asked me questions about my life and interests, and dodged almost all of my questions about him.”

“Did you learn anything new?”

“He’s too indecisive to pick a favorite color.” I laugh. “But honestly no, he’s too reserved. I did find out he lives with his brothers somewhere in New York. Somewhere close to the restaurant we ate at. His brother called him and asked him when he’d be home near the end of the night, and Matt told him it would only be around 10 minutes.”

“Well that’s something.” Emma says and she looks through the notes. “But so far, what we have is close to nothing!”

I sigh. “I know. But I still have almost three weeks left, that’s plenty of time to find more.”

“I guess. But with the rate you’re going I don’t think you’ll get actual confirmation on his status in the Mafia by the end of your deadline.”

I groan and lean back on the bed. “I don’t know what to do.”

Emma lays down next to me. “I can tell you what I would do.”

I turn to her. “What’s that?”

“Party.” She smiles and gets up from the bed. She walks to her closet and starts digging around the clothes while I sit up.

“Isn’t partying what got me into this situation in the first place?” I laugh.

“Don’t drink so much this time.” Emma replies and throws me clothes from her closet. “Put that on.” She tells me and goes back to digging through her closet.

“I can’t party.”

Emma laughs. “Why not?”

“I just don’t feel like it. I don’t enjoy it.”

“You don’t enjoy anything!” She whines. She looks at me with a pout. “Come on, please?”

I sigh. “Fine whatever. Where are we going?”

Emma looks at me with a bright smile. “Baxter’s new club on third.”

“That was all gibberish to me.” I laugh.

“Just put that outfit on and let’s go!”

I get up from the bed, picking up the outfit and raising my hands in defeat. “Alright, alright, I’m going.” I say as I walk to the bathroom.

I get dressed in the outfit, fishnets and short black shorts, with a white tank top. I walk out of the bathroom and look at Emma.

“God you’re gorgeous.” She says. “I’m almost jealous of Matt.” She giggles and walks to the bathroom to get dressed herself. She comes back out a moment later in a short tight black dress that has an open back.

“Trust me, you have nothing to be jealous of.” I say as I see her in her dress. Emma has always been the pretty one. Whenever we went out together guys would pay more attention to her, even in high school the guys flocked to her. I was just her little friend that had nothing compared to her.

Emma smiles at me and grabs my hand. She quickly pulls me out of the room and to the front room of her penthouse. We put on our shoes, her in heels and I in platform combat boots, and then she rushes me out the door and to the elevator.

Once we arrive at the club Emma has chosen for tonight’s endeavor, she pulls me through the crown of people to the front of the line.

“Emma Hastings plus guest.” She says to the bouncer. He glances at the list and then steps to the side to let us in.

You might find it surprising how often Emma can just get into clubs and bars, but that’s how it’s been for years. Emma has multiple fake IDs, some she made for me without me knowing though I don’t use them. She knows all the club owners and party hosts in New York, and a big part of her job as a journalist involves her in these clubs, mingling with VIPS. So she became a VIP herself.

No ones caught on to Emma’s act though, some have had suspicions, but nothing that can be proven. Emma, like me, publishes her articles under a pseudonym. A false name that takes the blame for all of the secrets Emma has shared with the world.

Some might think it would be easy to figure out it’s her spilling all these secrets, but Emma can cover her tracks well. And no one really reads our paper. That’s the bigger part of it I guess.

“Come on! Let’s go!” Emma shouts over the loud music and talking drunk people. Suddenly I’m yanked by her through the people to the bar.

“Please, I don’t want to drink tonight!” I say to her but she waves me off.

“Two rum and cokes.” She says to the bartender. I shake my head.

“I’m not drinking!” I say to her again. She brushes me off and hands me the drink.

“You’ll feel better if you drink!” She shouts.

“I don’t need to feel better.” I set the drink down on the bar. I turn to walk away and try to weave my way through all the people to find something to eat. Clubs like this always have some type of snack or appetizer.

People dancing around gets slimmer and slimmer as I make my way to a different room. It’s more well lit with a red shaded light. I finally am able to walk freely and find a person carrying a platter of veggie wraps.

I immediately grab a few to eat and smile at the girl holding the tray. I remember when I was in high school I had a job much like hers, serving appetizers on platters at party’s. Although, the parties I worked for were private parties.

I take a bit of a veggie wrap when I feel a hand snake around my waist. I jump and turn to see Matt

“What are doing here?” I ask him.

“I can ask you the same thing.” He says and wraps his arm around my waist. “What are you doing at this party?”

“I asked first.”

Matt laughs. “What are you, 10?”

I groan and stare at the last veggie wrap in my hand. “My friend dragged me here.” I tell him and then I take a bit of my veggie wrap.

“Ah, well, let’s get you out of here and get you something more filling to eat, yeah doll?” He says and begins to lead me away.

“You didn’t say why you’re here.” I say and he laughs again.

“You don’t have to worry about anything, I’m not cheating on you.”

I look at him in shock. “I didn’t think that at all, why would you say something like that?”

Matt just chuckles. “I’m here on business not pleasure, babydoll. I know the club owner, and he owed me something I came to collect on. I just saw you here in the red room and wondered what you were here for. I didn’t think this was your idea of a good time.”

“It’s not.” I reply. “What did the club owner owe you?”

“Just something I paid for.” Matt shrugged and led me to the back door of the club.

“I can’t leave without telling Emma, she’ll be concerned if she can’t find me.” I look back at the dancing people.

“Just text her, I’m not letting you stay in that place. That club is famous for the amount of older men praying on younger girls there are there.” Matt says in a deep tone.

“That’s probably why Emma comes here a lot.” I mumble to myself.

“What did you say, doll?” Matt asks as he looks at me.

“Just Emma, I don’t want to leave without telling her.”

“Just text her, come on, you’re coming home with me.” Matt leads me out the back door and to his car that’s waiting in the alley.

“Home with you? To your house?” I ask as Matt opens the passenger side door for me.

“Yeah, doll. I thought you were asking to come home with me the other night. Didn’t you want to spend a day with me?” Matt gets into the drivers side.

“You said you couldn’t have me around while you were busy.”

“I’m not too busy tomorrow, and you just look so good right now. Unless you want me to dump you at your apartment, you’re coming home with me. Trust me, it’ll be a lot better in my double queen bed with silk sheets then in your bookstore apartment that that looks like it’s one windy day away from blowing to the ground.” Matt laughs to himself as he starts his car.

“Hey, don’t diss my apartment.” I laugh. “I know it’s not the best, but I love my little place. And I love the bookstore.”

“I’ll buy you a fucking library. You living there is a liability. You could get seriously hurt there. You could fall through the floor boards or cut yourself on a loose nail-“

Matt pulls out of the alley and starts driving to his house.

“But that’s my favorite bookstore.”

“You don’t need to live there. I’ll take you back wherever you want to buy books, I’ll take you anywhere you want.”

“Matt-“

“You need a new place.”

“Matt-“

“Im serious.”

“MATT!” I shout to get his attention. He just stays silent. “I like my place, what is this about?”

“Nothing, like I said, it’s a hazard.”

“I’ve never been hurt there. The worst thing that’s happened was a paper cut from a book.”

“Just… don’t stay at that apartment for a while.”

“What, why?” I ask and Matt stays silent. “Matt, why?” I ask more seriously. Again, no answer. “Matt, answer me, why not?”

“I shouldn’t have ever taken you out in public.” He mumbles.

“Matt, what are you talking about!” I ask, starting to shake and my hands get sweaty.

“I’m too fucking dangerous for you to be around.”

“Matt, tell me what you mean by that.”

“That fucking picture-“

“Picture?”

“The one that pap took.”

“Pap?”

“Just stay at my place for a few days, okay? I’m gonna get someone to scope out your apartment and-“

“Matt stop! Why do you need someone to scope out my apartment.”

“I told you I had enemies y/n. Enemies that would think of you as a way to get to me, and they’re right.”

“Matt you’re scaring me.”

“I’m gonna keep you safe, I promise.”

“I wanna go home.”

“I’m taking you to my place, you’ll be safe there, I promise.”

“How long before you were going to tell me about this?” I ask.

“I didn’t know for sure if someone had found out about you yet, I still don’t. I’m just taking precautions until we figure out if someone is watching you.”

“Why would someone be watching me?”

“I told you, I have-“

“Why would someone need to get to you through me? Who would do something like that?” I ask. Matt stays silent, clenching his jaw tightly and he drives up a long drive way.

“We’re here.” He says, finally breaking the silence. He parks the car in the huge driveway in front of the mansion. My jaw drops and I gasp and the large, beautiful home in front of me.

“You live here?” I ask in amazement.

“Doesn’t seem like such a bad idea to stay with me, now does it?” Matt says as he opens his car door and makes his way around the car to open my side door as well. I step out but keep my eyes on the mansion.

“This is beautiful.” I say softly. Matt smiles and begins to lead me inside.

“I live with my brothers, the ones I told you about. They’re not home for a few days, they’re running a few errands in LA. We’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Matt opens the large front door for me and I gasp again at the beautiful entryway.

“Come on, I’ll give you the tour.” Matt says and begins to lead be around the home.

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover @sturniolobessed @eyelessdemon00 @sturnioloenthusiast @sturniolopookie @urmommysbathroom @qwertytit @whatever1021 @chrisfavoritepepsi @stramboli4life @sturniolosreads @timmyscomputer @iloveneilperry

[antiwhores]

Apologies to Fix - Bakugou x reader

Bakugou is angry at whatever the fuck and accidentally takes it out on you. Now he has to find a way to apologize.

Not proof checked, angst, fluff, happy ending, arguments, established couple, one shot, sfw

Honestly you were screwed from the start when he came back to the dorm mad. And it was an unknown mad too. You had been texting him to ask where he went all afternoon. He only left you on delivered and if you were lucky; on read.

Usually you’d leave him alone for a while and let him collect himself before you came to talk to him. He looked mad as fuck though so you didn’t want him to make any rash decisions like challenge someone to a fist fight.

So you calmly got up from the common area, picking up your belongings, and followed him down to his dorm.

You practically ran to catch up to him since he was walking so damn fast. His stomps echoed through the room, making yours sound nonexistent.

When you got to his door he tried to slam it in your face but you stopped it and slid in. You lightly closed the door behind you and set your stuff on his bed. He had aggressively threw himself into his desk chair. He opened his laptop and started angrily typing something up.

You approached him with a neutral expression, “You look mad as hell, are you okay?” He didn’t respond, only continuing to aggressively type. “Okay, you dont want to talk about it now. Ill just tell you about my day to distract you then.” You had used this method many times before with other people. It helped ground them usually, giving them something to focus on other than whatever the hell they’re mad about.

You leaned on the wall in front of him, “So i went to my weekly Friday store trip today. I went to a thrift store down south. They had this huge teddybare and I wanted it SO bad! But then a kid swooped in and took it right under my fingers! So then I kept looking and I found the cutest thing for you! Its a-“

Just as you stuffed your hands in your bag he shot out of his seat. He slammed his hand against the desk, making you jump high from the suddenness. “Do you ever shut THE FUCK UP?!” He stomped towards you, face to face. His glare at you was heated with hatred and annoyance. “You’re so fucking annoying! Shut the fuck up for once will you?! I swear, you’re so clingy!”

Ouch. That shit hurt your feelings.

He breathed heavily into the seemingly never ending silence. You were stuck, the knot building up in your throat keeping you still.

Once you broke out of your trance tears gathered up in your eyes. You ripped the gift out of your pocket and threw it into his chest.

“Its an all might limited edition compass from 30 years ago. Hope you enjoy it you fucking asshole.”

He couldn’t even do anything as you gathered your stuff and stormed out. You slammed the door louder than he had.

That next day you ignored him and then the next and the next and the next. You wouldn’t even give him the time of day. The fifth day he couldn’t take it anymore. He was tired of the opened texts and dry behavior.

He knocked on your door after school. It wasn’t his normal aggressive knock, it was a light one that mimicked one of his more timid classmates. He knew if you knew it was him you wouldn’t open the door.

“Coooooming!” When you opened the door and saw him you smile immediately fell. You moved to slam to the door in his face but his hand extended to stop you before he could even think about it.

You were immediately annoyed at his interference, “What.” He swallowed, “Let me come in.” You clicked your tongue, “And you still can’t stop being demanding, fuck off-“ “CAN- can I come in?” He had to stop himself halfway from yelling at you. He wasn’t used to this.

“I already told you, no. I don’t want to be too clingy.” You had tried to close the door again but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him so you could look into his eyes. His lip was on the verge of quivering between his teeth that bit down so hard you were surprised he wasn’t bleeding. His eyes looked tired as they pleaded with you. He looked so vulnerable.

“Please” he begged.

You could’ve gasped right there if not for the cloud in your throat. Bakugou Katsuki never begged for anyone. It was against all his morals and pride.

You were widening the path before you could even comprehend it. He awkwardly shuffled in and settled himself on your bed.

You watched over him with your arms crossed, waiting for him to speak.

“You haven’t spoken to me in 5 days.” “Yeah, I know.” “Well stop, I hate it. I’m your boyfriend. You are supposed to talk to me.”

You couldn’t believe his audacity. “Yeah okay, like you didn’t tell me to stop talking in the first place! You told me to shut the fuck up and called me annoying for talking!” “You know I didn’t fucking mean that!” “No, I don’t know that Katsuki!”

You yelled that last part with your finger in his face. “I don’t know anything apparently! One minute you say im clingy and tell me to leave you alone and the next you’re at my dorm room begging to come in. Im sick of being your person punching bag.

He felt even worse now.

He sat up, hands digging in his pockets. “Yeah, I fucking know-“ “No you don’t. You don’t know what its like to be called annoying and clingy and told to shut the fuck up by the one you love.” “But I do know that i do find you annoying and clingy and you never shit the fuck up. You know what else I do know? I fucking love that about you. I love everytime youre clingy with me cause you touch me. When you’re annoying to me it makes me feel like you’re paying special attention to me. And you never shutting the fuck up is so pretty to me. I fucking love EVERYTHING about those things.”

He pulled a small box out of his pocket and opened it. Inside was a pure gold necklace with a small explosion pendant on it.

“And Im fucking really sorry, okay? These past days have been horrible without you and I want you back so bad and I’ll do ANYTHING to get you to hug me again y/n. So just forgive me already so I can be normal again!”

You were at a loss for words as you stared at the necklace. You took it out with shaky hands and admired it. Tears bundled up in yours eyes when he put it around your neck.

You hugged him, the both of you melt into each others touch like chocolate and heat. You laughed into his neck as he snuggled into you with a deep sigh. “You’re such a dork.

[madisonshoneybun]

Hello! I was wondering if you still are continuing to take fanfic request if you could possibly do one where newt and the reader are childhood friends and newt really likes the reader and is going to their house to confess his feeling to them but he is sad because they moved to New York to find a Job and after a few years newt sees the reader sitting on a bench at a park in New York but doesn’t know if that’s them because they are sitting with their back away from him so he isn’t sure if that’s really them, and they finally reunited and he confesses his feeling when the reading is working a late night shift at the department store in the first film and is about to go home oh btw if you could possibly add a bit of jealous Tina let’s say newt has kept the same necklace which he wanted to give to the reader when he wanted to confess his feeling to them when he was younger and then Tina goes into Newt’s case and finds the necklace and assumes Newt wants to give it to her so she puts it on anyway and Newt says it is not for her and she has to give the necklace back to him but at the end when she sees how happy Newt and the reader are together she is happy and accepts the fact that newt likes someone else and finds someone else to love. Omg if you do this I will be so so so happy I have just had this idea for a really long time now but honestly probably couldn’t actually write it thank you so much!

Found

Warning - none

Pairing - Newt Scamander x Reader

Summary - Newt left you and you had no idea why. He was someone you could never stop thinking about but as luck would have it, he found you. Will he leave you again? Will he be honest about how he truly feels? Or will he hurt you all over again?

A/N - Jezz it's been a long time. I remember when I was in high school, and my only hobby was writing fanfiction. I never told a soul. But here I am, now 22 and still wanting to come back and write from time to time. Though I didn't start this Tumblr account when I was in high school. I hope you like what I've written and keep sending requests and I just might write some. Might even right a few then hop off the face of the planet again. I don't know, but enjoy :)

Words - 3555

______________________________________________________________

Your most fond memories were running round the halls of Hogwarts with Newt not far behind. Sometimes you were skipping class to be with his creatures, sometimes one would escape, and you were both trying to catch it and other times, your favorite times, it was just so you could both be alone. There was a spot, under the east stairwell, where you'd hide. Newt was never one for affection but for some reason, here, with you, he'd hold your hand. Tracing his fingers over the lines on your palm almost like he was trying to read your future. You always hoped he'd be reading them to see if your futures aligned. Maybe if the maps on your palm were identical to his, it meant you were meant to be together. Like it was destiny. He'd never let you read his though, only allowing you to wrap your fingers together, intertwining them like perfect puzzle pieces. You'd lean you head on his shoulder, and he'd mumble creature facts to you, describe their beauty with hints of passion. Unicorns and fairies were in muggle stories, always the good guys and the most beautiful creatures to them. But Newt could tell you anything about any creature in the world, and you'd fall for them without caring what they looked like. Newt loved magical beasts and you loved them too.

You sat on a bench, the cold New York air biting at your skin. You didn't mind though. It reminded you of home. You'd picked up knitting a few years after graduating from Hogwarts. Both your muggle and wizard friends teased you, saying it was so boring and it was something only old people did. You liked it though, and it was always a high when you finished a piece, whether it be gloves, a hat or a scarf, it always made you so happy. Right now you were working on a scarf. You'd come up with idea of making your own version of the house scarfs at Hogwarts. You had started with your house, seeing as it was obviously superior, and worked your way through the others. Right now, you were working on the finally one. Hufflepuff. It was bittersweet. It was almost like you were pushing it off as much as you could. Every time you saw that shade of yellow, you'd be brought back to Hogwarts. To that boy with the most beautiful green eyes. To his crocked smile and its cute fluffy hair.

You smiled gently at the half-made scarf. God did you miss him. You wondered what he was doing, if he was okay, and if he still loved beast. You laughed quietly and shook your head. Of course, he does, dead or alive, he would never not love them. Even if one were to kill him, he wouldn't blame them. You heard someone chuckled behind you. It made you jump to your feet, dropping everything you were doing on the ground. Your hand flew to your back pocket, where you keep your wand, as you spun around.

Your hands fell to my sides upon seeing him. Both beautiful eyes and that fluffy hair. "Newt?"

He looked just as surprised to see you as you were of seeing him. Almost like he wasn't expecting it at all. What did he expect laughing at a random woman in the cold? A heavy sigh left your lips. "Were you just laughing at me Mr. Scamander?" You thought, seeing as you were both adults, it might be better to address him properly. You didn't have any idea on how he felt about you, if he had moved on from your friendship from school. It only felt polite to call him by his last name. He stilled and opened his mouth to speak. You could almost visually see the sweat form on his face and the color leave his eyes. "Uh no- I wasn't" He stuttered, waving his hands in the air.

You put your hands on your hips and titled your head to the side. "I jumped so hard cause I heard you laugh. Don't try to fool me." The flustered look on his face was so cute, you almost felt bad for teasing him. You weren't the same girl you were back then, growing more confident as the days went by. You wouldn't be so easily flustered by him like when you were little, but you doubt he'd even remember though moments. Or tell you about them at that. He looked just as flustered, maybe even more as he listened to you speak. It started to make you laugh and you waved a hand at him. "It's alright Scamander, I'm just teasing you. Can't handle a bit of teasing from an old friend?" His shoulders dropped, relaxing finally. For a moment, he still said nothing. Looking you up and down for a moment before finally opening his mouth to speak properly to you. "I heard you laugh and I couldn't help it. Yours is contagious." A blush crept up your neck.

He looked the same but also so different. He was taller than you now, more built, leaner. His jaw sharp, a bit longer hair, and this aura about him. He still felt a bit shy but exuded this confidence that you've never seen in him before. What had changed? How did he still feel like that kid from so long ago but I feel so mature? How stupid could I be? He's a grown man. You looked down at your items on the floor and crouched to get them. He crouched too but soon stood back up. "What are you doing here?" You sat back down, and he took a seat next to you. "I'm passing through. On my way to Arizona to release a Thunderbird I rescued from Egypt... though..." He looked down at his hands like he was ashamed. "It appears some other creatures escaped my case, so I have to find them before anything bad happens to them."

You could feel his sadness wrap around you. It felt cold and seeing him after not seeing him so long didn't erase your memories of him. His love for all magical creatures. You took his hand, like he had done to you all those times under that stairwell, and squeezed tightly. "Let me help you." His eyes moved to yours and for a moment they looked like there were stars in them. Like hearing you say that made him the happiest in the world. Like you weren't afraid or anger at him for leaving all those years ago but it soon faded. Knowing what little he knew about what was going on in this city, he never wanted to put you in danger so, like all those years ago. He pushed you away. He pulled his hand away and rose to his feet. He refused to look at you as he picked up his case. "I've got it. I know these creatures like the back of hand. Don't worry yourself with it." and without giving you even a second to respond, he began to walk away.

Seeing his back to you, slowly getting farther and farther away, you had no idea what to do. When he left you tried to stop him, but he wouldn't open up to you about why. You could never understand it all. But you did understand was how much he hurt you. How much it hurt to have him lie to your face. And how much it hurt begging him to be honest with you, begging you to stay, and having him still leave you behind. You weren't going to do again. Not this time. You were going to let him go.

____________________

Newt had been keeping himself occupied in his case all night. The others had no idea what to do. Something must've happened but none of them were close enough to him to ask. Jacob was the first to try, but all he got was one-word responses. Queenie tried to but Newt didn't even bare her a glance. Tina was the only one absent from this whole ordeal. She was inside the shed, while Newt was taking care of his creatures and Jacob followed him like a lost puppy. She was looking through his things, trying to find anything about him. They had gotten close, and had bonded through this while ordeal, even though it wasn't entirely over yet. She could feel her feelings growing for him the more they interacted with him. When Newt saved her, looked her in the eyes and promised her that'd he'd catch her, she felt something. She had felt so safe and cared for. She had a slight worry that he might leave her. Save himself and then go save his case. But he stayed and the look in his eyes felt like a silent promise that he wasn't going to leave her.

She opened up drawer after drawer. Not really rummaging through, just moving a few things around. She eventually came across and small velvet box. It was a beautiful royal blue. It was so soft and light. When she opened it, a soft glow illuminated her face. She took it out of the box, setting it aside and hold a beautiful silver necklace. It was short, like it would rest perfectly in-between a person's collarbones. These last few days, maybe he felt the same way? It felt too soon for something like this but everyone knew how awkward, yet charming Newt was. He was never very good with words. There was this tiny whisper in the back of her mind that said to ask him who this was for. Confirm with him first before she thought it belonged to her but the love she felt for him drowned out that voice. Slowly, as to not make a sound, she put it around her neck. Clasping it in place. She felt silly for being so quiet. No human on this ear could hear the sound if a necklace clamping in place but her nerves got the better of her. She closed the box, setting it back inside the drawer, and left the shed.

_____________________

You couldn't believe your boss called you in so late. You weren't a security guard; this wasn't in your job description. You were reading about everything going on, and you can't lie and say it didn't make you nervous. There was no denying it wasn't something more than normal muggle things. It had to be something you'd read about in school. Or some witch or wizard who was after something. You knew all this but could do nothing. You weren't with the Macusa, like you'd ever want to do anything like that, you were just a normal witch. The best you were good at was making positions and remembering wizard history. And of course, a butt load of creature facts. You also felt confident that the Macusa were handling it.

Never mind that. You had to be "keeping an eye out" as your boss had told you to do. This store had never been broken into at night, you never understood why. Shoplifters though? That has happened a few times. Since you didn't think anyone would dare try to break in, you brought you scarf to finish. It was almost done. Just a few more rows to go. Glancing down at the fabric in your hands, you remembered the park. How you were literally just looking at this stupid thing and thinking about him. Then he popped into thin air. Almost like you were granted a wish from the gods but now? Just looking at it stung. What did you do to deserve this treatment from him? Did he figure out your feelings and just had no clue on how to turn you down? If he didn't like you back you would've respected that decision, but he didn't even respect you enough to tell you why he was leaving. Before you could get too into your head you heard something fall to the ground. Luck truly wasn't on your side huh? First you wished for him and now you somehow jinxed this whole break in thing.

You stood, making slow, gentle movements around the front desk. Making your way over to what had dropped, you felt like there were eyes on you. And in an instant, you were grabbed from behind, a hand over your mouth. You went to scream but once your back met the person's chest you stared ahead. You saw Newt, holding a finger to his lips. Just looking at him made you anger. How could he treat you the way he did and then randomly show up here and have whoever was holding you touch you like this? What would he even need here? Then it hit you. His creatures.

You nodded and the person behind you let you go. You turned to face them and saw a man, he quickly whispered an apology to you, and two women. Then women were like polar opposites of each other, visually speaking. Nothing to do with their beauty, no, they were both probably the prettiest women you had ever met. They just looked different. Once blonde wearing pinks and a cute face of makeup, the other a brunette wearing darker clothes. After scanning the group your eyes fall back to Newt. "What's here?" he pointed past me, a floating purse making its way through the store. "Dougal, my Demiguise." You nodded slowly. You've heard a lot about those creatures. Newt always thought they were the most difficult to catch, or save even.

"Demiguise are fundamentally peaceful, but-" "they can give a nasty nip though." You shrugged. The room fell silent. You looked up at the other, who you still hadn't gotten the name of. They looked at you like you were crazy but Newt had this slight smirk on his face. "I learned from the master himself." You whispered and gently nudged Newts arm. After the interruption Newt was giving out orders. "You two, head that way. And try very hard not to be predictable. Y/n?" You hummed softly. "Stay with them?" You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was worried for them. These people obviously knew little to nothing. But you knew everything, you knew what to do and what not to do. You keep these people safe. And Newt trusted you so deeply with that task. You smiled and nodded, leading the way.

We were in some kind of attic and Newt was describing the beast to everyone in the room. Once you realized it was babysitting and that Newt "must have miscounted" you knew we were in for it. A huge and beautiful Occamy came forward. Staring straight into Newt's eyes. You felt a smile creep onto your face, you'd never seen one before but like you'd always thought, no matter the creature, it was a wonderful thing to see. Seeing how gently Newt was, you thought for sure he had it, that was until the blonde walked forward, almost like she was in awe, and accidently kicked a Christmas ordainment. It rang and the poor thing got spooked. Its body got moved around the room, almost snake like. Your first immediate thought was to get Dougal, something so big could easily kill him while it was startled like this. But once you made your way towards him, he made his way towards the other man and blondie. Now in the center of the room, Newt was gone, riding on top of it. Before you could even think to start looking around for something small or an insect, one of its wings came flying towards you. Hitting you square in the chest and making you slam into the floor. You head hurt the most, and you blacked out while gasping for air.

_____________________

We had just gotten the Occamy in the tea pot and for a spilt second everything left so calm. It felt like the weight he had been keeping on his shoulders had vanished, but it all faded when he saw you, the literal light of his light, laid limp on the floor. Tina had both hands on the tea pot and the lip so Newt ran to your side. "Y/n? Hey, wake up!" He shook you gently and then realized that was probably the worst thing he could be doing to you right now. His only other thought in mind was to take you into his arms and bring you into his case. He had put a cot in the shed, right by the entrance. Sometimes he just preferred to be asleep near his creatures. The sounds they made throughout the night were like little lullabies. He brought you down, the other following close behind, and laid you gently on it. Taking off his coat and laying that on top of you too. It was particularly cold but he still worried.

"Can you put my Occamy back and Dougal on his tree?" He didn't spare anyone a glance. But Jacob nodded, leading Queenie out of the room. But Tina stayed. She took a seat next to you, looking you over. It seemed she didn't snoop enough, or she was just blind as a bat because once she looked up towards Newt, she was a photo. A moving picture, of you, smiling so bright. Her hand slowly went to the necklace. She felt this ping in her chest. Over these past few days she thought her and Newt were becoming closer. Like they could be something more. Maybe not this soon, but over time, maybe something. It genuinely hurt more than she thought it would. While Newt was still distracted, making something to help you, she took off the necklace and gently placed it around your neck. Seeing it on you, it felt like it just belonged there.

She stood to her feet and gave Newt a gently pat on the back and left the room. Leaving the two of you alone.

______________________________

You slowly opened your eyes, your head heavy and throbbing. Your back also just completely bruised. You sat up slowly, touching your hand to your head. It was wrapped in gauze and a foreign cream over your collarbones, along with a necklace. You knew you weren't wearing it before but besides that, you were in so much pain. You glanced around the room and saw Newt, setting on the floor beside you, holding your free hand. You squeezed it and he opened his eyes, standing so quickly to his feet that he fell back a bit, leaning fully on the work bench behind him. "Are you alright?" you asked him with a chuckled. "Are you alright?" he made his way back to your side. His hand finding its way to the back of your head. He leaned down a bit, giving you a once over. You nodded. "I'm fine, though I will say that hurt more than when we tried to ride that Hippogriff we found in the forest." He moved away and went back to his work bench, grabbing something that must've been sitting there, waiting for you. He handed it to you and drank it without a second thought. Your body felt cool all of a sudden and like the pain was fading away.

He sat beside you, fiddling with his fingers. You grabbed his hands, like you'd done all those years ago but for the first time, he flipped his hand, allowing you to see the maps on his palm. He glanced at him, but his eyes were laser focused on your fingers as you ran them over the lines. Your eyes went back to his hands, much larger than yours. As you traced the lines they felt familiar. It felt like the same pattern he would trace onto you. Your heart was beating so fast. All this time you wondered why he was so fascinated by it, but he knew all along that you futures were aligned. You continued to stare and trace with a smile permanently etched on your face. "I love you."

Your eyes shot up. "I love you, y/n. I've loved you for so long and I've been terrified to tell you but..." He clenched his jaw. "When I saw you there, I was more terrified than ever. The thought of you not loving me back couldn't compare to the thought of you dying. So I knew I had to tell you. I'm sorry I never told you, and I'm sorry I left." Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. His beautiful green meeting your calm (y/e/c). His hand went to your cheek, thumbing rubbing your tears away. You hand went over his, and gently rubbed your thumb over his knuckles. A chuckle left your lips as the tears fell completely. "I love you too. I always have."

He smirked and you could see his shoulders relax. He was looking at you so intently and then down at your lips. Your eyes met again and he leaned forward, ever so slightly, then stopped. It was a silent way to ask permission. Then you leaned forward to, inviting him in. He took the invitation and slowly kissed you. It was soft, gentle and the best thing you've ever felt in your life. The happiness you both felt filled the room. This might be your new, fondest, moment.

Masterlist

[lukeywritesstuff]

Reader has a pregnancy scare over the summer at the lake house and dosent tell Jack at first so he gets mad. He doesn’t really want a child rn but ends up accepting that they will have a baby. But it’s just a scare so their are not going to actually be parents

baby? no baby.

jack hughes x reader

warning: angst, yelling, pregnancy scare, mentions of abortion, punching (m on m), vomit, swearing and suggestive sexual content (no actual smut)

note: i’m not from the states so all timing for drives and flights and stuff are made up because i’ve been trying to research how far detroit airport is from bloomington AND NO BLOOMINGTON IS COMING UP ON MAPS. i actually went a bit crazy writing this because of that. ALSO this is the first fic i’ve written in a couple years that isn’t a joke so please bear with me because it’s not perfect at all.

lowercase intended

this past week has been a nightmare, from waking up at 6:30 in the morning to throw up, to dealing with motion sickness on an airplane and dealing with my boyfriends absolute bullshit.

let’s start from the beginning: wednesday july 12th, the day i started feeling ill. it was around 5:30 in the morning the first time i threw up. that day i thought it was a bug so i didn’t think much of it. but it kept happening all week, and this freaked me out because i knew i was leaving for michigan on monday to visit my boyfriend jack and his family.

monday couldn’t have come any slower, knowing i needed to talk to ellen before anyone else, i was hoping for the day to come faster. she’d be the only one i can ask about what’s going on with me as i haven’t seen my own family since august of last year since i moved to jersey for college.

the flight was terrible but short, it didn’t help my nausea at all, specially with the turbulence, jack was late to pick me up because he left his phone at the house when he went boating with his brothers so i had to sit around the airport for a few hours. i’m not even gonna think about uber either cuz i’d rather get crushed by a plane than sit for hours in an uber with a complete stranger.

ok getting off topic here, we’ll we got to the lake house after a very uneventful and quiet drive from the airport. ellen was finishing up dinner and luke, quinn and jim were playing basketball in the driveway, which quickly came to a stop as jack pulled up smashing the horn causing quinn to (jokingly) throw the ball at the car. (it did not break at all.)

i settled in to jacks room and we ate dinner, we talked about the boys hockey and training and my school and what i’m doing after i graduate next year. jokes were cracked and it was fun, i actually forgot about jack being a bit of a dick for a good hour and a half. after i stayed in the kitchen with ellen to help clean up, jack and luke ran to the x-box in the other room probably to play fortnite.

‘el, this past week i’ve been feeling quite nauseous this past week and i was wondering if i should worry about it. knowing you’ve been pregnant a few times, i felt it was best to ask you for advice on the situation.’ i said to my boyfriends mother.

‘well if it goes on for a few more days i’d consider going to a doctor, but for now you can go to the pharmacy just down the street and try a rest or 2 if you wanna have an idea quicker.’ she said and i nodded.

‘wait you’re pregnant?’ i hear from by the counter. quinn. he heard.

‘i’m not sure. i was just about to go to the pharmacy to get a test’ i told him.

‘i’ll drive i want some gato and fuckass jack frank the last one.’ he said and i nodded.

we went to the pharmacy and got 2 tests (and a shit ton of blue gato for quinn) and we went back to the house. i went to the bathroom in ellen’s room to take them since she wants to be there for me and honestly i’m glad i did. she’s been so supportive even if it might just be a scare.

the tests came out positive. i broke down in tears and went out to ellen.

‘positive, i’m pregnant. and i’m only 21’ i said.

‘oh sweetie. it’s all gonna be okay. you’re gonna be a great mom and jacks gonna be a great dad.’ ellen said embracing me.

‘so she’s pregnant?’ quinn asked from the door. i just nod my head at him.

suddenly i hear from the hallway ‘who’s pregnant?’ and ‘is it mom? i think i’m a bit too old to be an older brother’ and then a little ‘ow’ after.

then quinn had to open his big ass mouth and say ‘no. it’s y/n. she’s pregnant.’

‘what?!’ jack yelled. ‘and you fucker knew before me? you fucking asshole!’ i heard before i see jack coke into the room angrily to punch his older brother in the face.

‘jack get off!’ i yelled pulling him.

‘i cant believe you told quinn before me! have him father your fucking kid. i don’t want it. i don’t want kids at all. specially right now. i’m at my prime right now! i don’t need a fucking baby ruining it all for me! get out of my house that’s not my kid! and if it is fucking abort it!’ he yelled while crying making me cry even more.

right after luke dragged him to his room and i can hear yelling between them as quinn and ellen comforted me in the master bedroom. todays been a lot for me so i eventually pass out in my boyfriend(?)’s parents room with his mother stroking my hair.

on wednesday, exactly a week after i started having my nausea i decided to visit a doctor to get the baby and i checked out. i haven’t talked to jack since he yelled at me so i go with ellen.

‘okay so it seems like you’re not actually pregnant and the test you took was wrong.‘ the doctor said to me.

honestly i have no idea if i’m relieved or sad. i was honestly quite happy to potentially be having a baby, even if jack was being a huge JACKass about it.

we got home and i saw jack sitting on the porch with a bouquet of flowers.

‘baby, i’ve thought everything over these past few days, and i’m actually excited to have a baby! with you! i apologize for everything i said, but it just hurt knowing quinn found out before me, because i am the dad. but now i am excited for this baby and this new chapter of our lives!’ he said smiling at the end.

‘jack, it was a scare. there’s no pregnancy. i’ve just been having a stomach bug the doctor told me. the tests were wrong too. i’m sorry.’ i said frowning.

‘oh. well i guess that means we just go upstairs and start actually making a baby, because i kinda want one now!’ jack said before pulling me in the house.

once we got up to the bedroom i hear ellen ushering everyone out, probably to spare themselves from having to hear whatever we’re getting up to upstairs.

[itsjustrosee]

Stranded (Minho x fem!reader (one-shot))

pt. 1, Pt. 2

ok so this is my first time writing any sort of fanfic but I thought I would give it a shot!

Warnings: contains spice and mild cursing

Context: high school au with everyone from the glade plus people from the other mazes like Sonya, Aris, and also Brenda. Minho's on the track team (obviously) and reader is on the debate team. Enemies to lovers

Word count: 4.4k

! I proof read but there might still be spelling mistakes !

You were in your junior year in high school, and you had already gotten a couple months into the school year. It was early October and the weather began to change, becoming slightly colder and colder each day. You could feel a cold gust of wind hit your face as you walked out of your school's double doors. You walked over and lent on one of the pillars your school had built in front of the main entrance as you began to slip your phone out of your pocket.

You only had one new notification from Brenda which read,

'sorry girl I won't be able to pick u up tdy. I got an email a couple of hours ago from my mom saying that I needed to pick her up from work because her car broke down, so I wont be able to work on our social studies project. Sry!'

You honestly didn't bother to read anything after the 'won't be able to pick u up tdy' part. What were you supposed to do now? You didn't have that many other friends you could just text and get them to pick you up. It's not like you were unpopular or didn't have many friends, you actually were quite known around school. It would be relatively hard for someone to hear your name and not know who you were. After all you were head of the student council, captain of the debate team and on your way to being valedictorian next year. So needless to say, you were far from being unpopular. Although you always preferred having a small group of really close friends, though you were friends or friendly, with many other people in your grade.

Unfortunately, you weren't quite close enough with any of your other friends to just text them and ask them for a ride out of the blue.

And almost as if being stranded at school couldn't get any worse, you look at your battery percent and see, oh great, 1 percent. You shut your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a second to curse at yourself for forgetting to charge it last night while you were sleeping.

But you calm yourself, thinking that it'll be fine. You'll get a ride home someway or another, right?

Well you thought wrong.

Right when you look back at your phone screen, its black. You stare at your phone, jaw dropped, continuously clicking at the power button, but to no avail the screen stays pitch black, leaving you to stare at your reflection wondering, 'how the actual fuck did I manage to be this unlucky.'

You tuck your phone back into your bag and you realize you really only have one way of getting home. Walking.

Wow this is just so amazing because of course this happens the day you get out at 5:30 because of a debate competition. Meaning you had to wear black heals and tights, paired with a tight pencil skirt that only went up to your mid-thigh, and a black blazer with a white undershirt that revealed more of your chest than you wanted it to.

Majority of the outfit was borrowed from Brenda, and you had changed into it at the end of school. Giving the clothes you were wearing the whole day to her because you didn't want to carry them around. The plan was for her to bring the bag of your clothes with her as she came to pick you up after your debate comp and drive you both back to your place to work on your project, where you would swap the clothes back.

Was it a semi overcomplicated plan? Yes. It definitely was, and you were now cursing at yourself once again because of it.

However, right as you come to terms painstakingly long and difficult journey you're going to have ahead of you, someone behind you speaks up.

"Hey (Y/N). What are you still doing here?" A familiar voice says, sending shivers down your spine. You could recognize that voice anywhere and you didn't have to turn around knowing that the person behind you was Minho. Godamint of course it was him, the dude who had been picking on you since kindergarten, the dude who you hated, and also the dude who got surprisingly hot over the summer. He was by far the last person you wanted to run into after your day was already totally trashed.

You turn around slowly so you can face him and as you do, you see him towering over you. He looks like he'd recently stepped out of the shower with his wet and slightly towel dried hair. Minho was on the track team and you were aware that on Friday's and during most days of the week, he would stay at school late because of practice. And based off of his hair, you could assume that he showered in the locker room before heading home. You gave yourself another moment before responding, as you look at the grey sweatpants he's wearing as they lay low around his hips, and at the black compression shirt he had on which complimented his physic quite well by it's ability of defining his muscles.

God what were you thinking? You couldn't help but think he was hot. Even though he had made it his mission to annoy you ever since he laid his eyes on you.

"My debate competition just ended." You say dryly while snapping back into reality, shaking off what you were thinking of moments before.

He checks his watch before responding, "Oh right. But didn't that end like ten minutes ago?"

"Yeah.. it did." You confess, realizing that you had stayed here sulking for ten minutes when you could've just accepted your fate and given yourself a head start on walking home. And maybe then, you wouldn't have had to run into this guy.

"why are you still here then?" He asked in a confused tone that lacked little to no concern.

You glare at him for a second but before you can give your embarrassing answer, he speaks again.

"Hey I'm just wondering, no need to get all mad. I just thought that you would've had a ride by now, princess." He says with a grin forming on his face while he puts both of hands up as if he's surrendering. He's clearly trying to do anything he can to get some sort of reaction out of you, and he knew that by using his little nickname he'd made for you at the start of the year, he'd get just that.

"Well actually if you could just shut up for a second then I would've been able to answer you." You snapped at him before continuing, your voice much softer now out of embarrassment, "I um, I don't actually have a ride. Both my parents are out of town for the weekend and Brenda bailed on me so I'm probably just going to walk."

"Really? Dressed like that?" He questions with a chuckle while teasing you and gesturing to your outfit. However he can't help but blush when he see's you dressed the way that you are. Most of the time you tend to wear sweatshirts and baggy clothing, but seeing you in clothing that complimented you curves- wow- It didn't fail to catch Minho off guard.

"Well, what other choice do I have?" You say as your words come out slightly more desperate then intended.

"I could give you a ride if you want." Minho responded, and Minho shocked himself just as much as he had shocked you by saying this.

You and Minho I have seen each other a lot this year because you both actually shared a decent amount of classes together. Although everybody knew him as being super athletic and really popular, he was a lot smarter than people, (a.k.a, you), gave him credit for. And even since you both had known each other since forever, the sudden offer was still odd. Considering how hostile you were to each other obviously.

"I'm not sure. I bet I can just walk home."

"Seriously? You'd probably give up walking home in those heels a mile in." He said with a chuckle, slightly mocking you but you choose to ignore it.

You roll your eyes at him, "Fine." you say with a huff while you both begin walking into the parking lot. "where's your car?"

"Who said I'd be driving you home in a car?" He responds as he tries to fish something out from his sweatpants' pocket, and when he finally pulled out what he was looking for, you see him hold up a key.

You look at him confused until you keep walking with him and see that you're headed towards a black motorcycle.

"Oh absolutely not." You say as you immediately stop in your tracks and Minho walks over a couple more steps and unlocks it.

"Come on it's just a motorcycle."

"Dude are you serious. Do you know how many people die on those things yearly?"

"No, how many?" he asks while looking at you with a smirk, already able to sense your bluff.

"I don't know- but probably a lot!" You answered because of course you don't actually knowing how many deaths motorcycles cause, but you thought it was safe to assume that they caused many.

"Thank you for the offer, but I think I should just start walking home now if I want to make it before it gets dark out." you say while walking past Minho and his stupid motorcycle. But Minho grabs your wrist before you can walk away any further. Feeling his skin on yours sends a jolt of electricity through your body. You turn around to face him and he keeps his hand on your wrist but his grip softens.

"Do you even know the forecast for today? It's supposed to start storming around six, and I don't think you want to get caught walking home in the rain right?" After he says that you look up at the sky and see that it's already being filled up by dark and angry clouds that could start raining down on you and Minho at any second, then you look back at his motorcycle.

Minho takes in your silence and speaks again, "Look, if you don't make your decision in the next five seconds then I'm leaving with or without you alright? I really can't be driving while it storms so I'll need to drop you off as soon as I can if I want to be able to make it home too."

"Alright fine." You say as you sigh, clearly defeated.

Minho leads you back to his motorcycle and sits down, his bag slung over his shoulders and onto his chest rather than on his back so that you can sit behind him. You tell him how to get to your house and you mutter a silent prayer as you sit down behind him, hoping he doesn't notice how far your skirt is riding up your thighs.

You aren't quite sure where to place your hands so you opt to cross them at your chest. Minho adjusts himself and turns his head slightly so you can here him better, "You know, you might want to hold onto me while I drive."

"I think I'll be fine." you snap at him.

"Suit yourself then." He shrugs as he faces forwards and presses on the gas, much faster than you expected.

You let out a yelp and immediately you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling yourself closer into his back, and you basically cling on to him as if your life depends on it. You dig the side of your head into his back and shut your eyes.

You can already tell he has a wolfish grin spread across his face as he says, "What did I tell you?"

"Yeah, ok whatever I-I get it I should've listened." you blurt out quickly, not trying very hard to disguise the fear in your voice. Minho slows down as he leaves the parking lot of your school and he realizes that he can feel you trembling.

"Hey, hey, its okay. I'll be more careful alright?" He says in a caring tone while he places one of his hands on your knee.

"Just... please go slow Minho." You reply as you hug onto him even tighter.

"I will princess don't worry. I promise I'll get you home safe." He says while thanking god that you can't see how red he's getting. Something about the way you had said his name altered something in his brain chemistry and he would do anything to hear you say it again. And you on the other hand felt that he was being genuine when he said that he'd keep you safe, and it really did sound like he cared. It only took seconds for your face to get as red as a tomato and though you were glad he couldn't see you, you were praying he couldn't feel how hot your cheek was getting on his back.

Your grip on his stayed just as tight and if not tighter for the remainder of the ride home. Although, during every stop you would loosen your grip slightly and Minho would place his hand down by your knee or lower thigh again, rubbing his thumb in circles on your skin which never failed to give you butterflies in your stomach each time he did so.

The silence between the both of you hadn't been awkward at all, if anything, it was quite comforting. Being in each others presence was enough for the both of you. And if anything, the quietness allowed you to think about Minho and how you felt about him now.

Though you didn't really want to admit it, something about the way he was acting towards you now, made you see a very different side of him, and it gave you a reason to like him. But then again this is Minho your talking about. He could have any girl he wanted, practically the entire female population at your school flocked to him. But you are thinking about this as if you don't have boys coming up to you, trying to talk to you at your locker every day. Or like Gally in particular hasn't been begging for you to tutor him since freshman year.

Regardless of the amount of times boys came up to you, you always rejected them, because you had never really felt that way for anyone. Except right now. Because you could practically feel yourself falling harder and harder for Minho every second.

Little did you know that Minho was thinking the exact same way about you, and though he would rather die than admit it to anyone, he's liked you for the longest time.

Do you guys ever remember getting bullied by a guy back in elementary school, and when you told your parents about it they were just like 'oh its just because he has a crush on you!' well that was Minho. Minho was that little boy tormenting you all those years ago because he had the fattest crush on you and just didn't know how to express it. And he never grew out of that habit either. Sure when you guys grew up he would still pick and tease on you but he'd kept getting bolder and bolder, hoping you'd pick up on it one day.

A sudden drop of water on your heads knocked you and Minho out of your thoughts and snapped you back to reality.

"Shit." Minho mumbled under his breath. You finally peaked for head up a bit and opened your eyes to see that he was driving into your neighborhood but it was too late. The light sprinkles of rain soon turned into a downpour after mere seconds. Minho quickly pulled into your drive way and you unbuttoned your blazer and put it over your head to try and keep you at least a little dry until you reached the front door. You got up from your seat and only made it a couple steps forward towards your house until you realized Minho wasn't following you.

"What are you waiting for? Do you want to stay out in the rain and get drenched?" I asked him.

"You don't want me to leave?" He questioned, a bit of hope surged through him, making him think that maybe you didn't hate him as much as he thought.

"Leave? You can't leave now, do you see how hard it's raining? Never mind that, you said that it was going to storm and I can't let you drive home knowing you could just get struck by lightning or some shit." You explain, trying to make it seem as if you didn't care about him, but you definitely did care and you sucked at not making it obvious.

Minho couldn't even respond, he just stared at you, a grin forming at the edge of his lips.

"Can you- stop looking at me like that! Just come inside before I change my mind." You say, turning away and heading straight to the door because you can already feel your cheeks getting red and you don't need to hear Minho's snarky remarks over it.

Minho wouldn't be lying if he said he was a bit flustered too because he hadn't expected you to say what you just said- I mean, inviting him into your house? Minho was absolutely over the fucking moon.

He dashed into the house and got in right after you did, shutting the door behind him. You set down your bag and began taking off your heels before facing Minho. He also dropped his bag and took off his shoes. He looked at you as you cleared your throat.

"Thank you, for um, driving me. Sorry I got kinda freaked out." you say, the redness in your cheeks this time weren't because you were flustered but rather because you were embarrassed. As you looked down, expecting Minho to make fun of you over the way you clung onto him, he takes your chin in his hand and moves it up slightly so that you're now looking at him.

"There's no need to apologize princess."

you just stared at him, too shocked to move because of the contact he'd made with you. Even though you both could've stayed in that position forever, you moved your head to the side, severing the eye contact you and Minho were making, and making him take his hand from your chin.

Immediately Minho began cursing at himself for being so bold. I mean it was amazing enough that you invited him into your house but he totally just ruined it. He just couldn't wait any longer for you, but he got impatient. At least that's what his overthinking ass assumed.

"Minho, I-" you started. You were taken aback by the action but it's not like you didn't like it. In all the years of teasing he had never been that bold or genuine. You couldn't tell if he was still just messing with you for fun.

"No, that was- look I dunno why I did that. I didn't.." He scoffed while looking away.

"Minho look at me." you said while turning your face to look at him again.

He just silently took his hand away from his face and looked at you.

"What's been up with you this year? It's like, you keep teasing me, but then you call me princess and do things like this- It's just- what's your deal? I can't tell if you still hate me, or if you like me or something." You blurt out, way more intensely then you had expected. You couldn't tell if this was just a whole joke or not, like if he really just found pleasure by getting some sort of reaction out of you. Whether that be you getting flustered, or annoyed at him.

"No I don't- I don't hate you at all (Y/N)." He paused while sighing. "This is going to sound stupid but I've liked you since before I can even remember. I just never knew how to tell you, so I just tried to get more bold, and hope that maybe you would catch on, I guess."

You just stared at him with a dumbfounded look on your face, not quite too sure if you were hearing him correctly. But he seemed so sincere, you really wanted to believe he was telling the truth.

"God okay I never should've said anything. I'm sorry, that was all so stupid. I'll leave right when the rain lets up-" Minho barely finished what he was saying as you leaned in and grabbed his shirt, pulling him into you as your lips merged with his.

After a moment of him not reciprocating you pulled away, "I'm sorry I thought-" But before you could say anything else Minho began kissing you again.

You melted into his touch as he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you into him closer. His grip around you was firm as he held onto you as if you could just slip away if he didn't hold on tight enough. You flung your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss between the both of you. It had started out gentle and soft but it only got more and more desperate and passionate as time went on.

"I like you too." You mumbled against his lips between kisses, and at this Minho only became more and more hungry for you. You allowed his tongue to explore every inch of your mouth, and he grew desperate for your taste.

All while holding the kiss he lifted you up by your hips and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed you into a nearby wall in your house.

He kept one of his arms on your waist while the other slid down your shirt and up your back, his cold fingers traced around your spine which only made you arch your back further into him. A slight moan escaped you which only made Minho tighten around his pants. You could feel him harden between your legs, and considering your skirt was far up your thighs by now, and your tights and panties only provided a thin layer of clothing between the both of you. You could feeling yourself throbbing down there as well.

Minho could tell by the way you were fiddling with the hem of his shirt that you were trying to take it off him. Minho pulled away and removed his hands from you and tossed off his shirt, leaving you to stare at his amazing physic.

I mean come on, the guy looked like he had been carved out of stone.

You both took no time at all to crash your lips onto each others again as your hands began to roam all over his chest. He took both of his hands and placed them on your ass in order to keep you propped up on the wall as he continued to pepper your lips with kisses.

He bit against your bottom lip causing you to moan again, but a phones ringtone of the song 'Eye of the Tiger' interrupted you and Minho from continuing.

He murmured a curse to himself and you giggled as he took his phone out of his pocket and answering the call and putting it on speaker. He used one hand to hold his phone as he kept the other on your ass.

You took this as an opportunity to start kissing down Minho's neck, moving down to his collar bone and sucking on it, making sure it would leave a mark. This caused Minho to make a soft groan but since the call was still connecting, the other person wasn't able to hear it.

"Dude where the fuck are you? You were supposed to come over after your practice to help me with our Latin assignment." The very clearly annoyed boy with a British accent questioned. You could tell it was Newt immediately, I mean, not many people have who go to schools in America have British accents.

"I'm sorry I got kind of caught up with something." Minho huffed out. Clearly trying to hide his moans as you continues to leave a trail of kisses and marks along his chest and neck.

"Holy shit you sound like you've just ran a marathon. Wait are you even at home right now?" He asks, this time much more confused then he was before.

"Uh no- I'm not at home right now."

"Then were the fuck are you?"

"At a- friends house."

"Which friends house?" Newt was interrogating Minho as if they were a married couple and Newt caught Minho coming home at 3am smelling of liquor and another women's perfume.

"I'm at (Y/N)'s house.." He said softly, hoping his friend would maybe keep his cool after he said this.

"Hi Newt!" You chime in after leaving several knew hickeys on Minho's neck.

"Jesus Christ I knew it. You've liked her for years! Good job Minho, you finally had the balls to tell her." You hear Newt laugh along with several other people in the background.

"Godamit Newt who else is with you?" Minho says, his face growing redder every second.

"Oh you know, Thomas, Gally, Fry, Alby." He says while trailing off.

Just then you can hear someone grab Newts phone on the other line, "Just letting you know (Y/N) you could do so much better." He says while everyone else with him chuckles, and you can tell it was Gally who said it.

"Oh shut it Gally. Your just mad because she chose me over you. And maybe this way you'll finally get the hint and stop asking her to tutor your dumbass." Minho snaps at him, his protective and jealous tone turning you on way more then you thought.

After Minho says that you can hear everyone on the other line burst out laughing, and even you let out a bit of a laugh afterwards as well.

You can hear Newt take back the phone and say, "Alright we'll leave you to it." as he hangs up the phone.

You look back at Minho as he puts his phone away. "What if I do want to start tutoring Gally?" You say with a smirk as you tilt your head to the side, teasing Minho.

"Oh please. Your mine now princess and I'm not letting Gally, or anyone else for that matter, anywhere near you." He says, and even though he's ginning while he says it, you can tell that he's being completely serious. "Now where were we?"

ok guys this is it!! plz lemme know if u liked it or if theres anything you guys think I should work on/ do better whenever I write these in the future. Also if u guys want to give me any other prompts for me to write, or if yall want a pt. 2 with yk smth a lil more spicy then tell me

[uhgood-girl]

why jikook?

i've been asking myself this a lot recently bc well, why them? why not tkook? or ynmin? hell, jihope even, they're underrated as hell honestly, have you seen that hot tub video? hobi was ready to unhinge his jaw to swallow jimin whole (and who (jk) could blame him.)

but jikook, in a not joking way, hits different. they always have. it's been years at this point that i've been deep in this rabbit hole (within the larger bts rabbit hole, my god, how deep does it go) but i don't recall making the conscious decision to fall in.

maybe a little background?

i'm a fake love army. actually, if we're getting technical, i'm an outro tear army bc it was in the comments of the freshly released fake love music video that i saw someone recommend outro tear if i enjoyed fake love and then it was over for me. extremely not fake love at first listen, who's voice is second on this track? i NEED to know. i'm a yoongi/rapline bias to this day. fake love still fucks though, don't get me wrong, it's a never skip for me.

for that first year and then some, i consumed backlogged content like it was my day job. i am a prone to hyper-fixations hermit, basically, who was going to stop me? my therapist? nah, she picks her battles.

i watched everything i could get my grubby little hands on like someone would be testing me on it later. (shoutout qdeoks, you were so real) i didn't open stan twitter for the first time till probably the end of 2018, really just in time to be slapped in the face full force with the shitshow that was a hate campaign against these boys i was deeply invested in by then, the likes of which i had never experienced in an online space up to that point. it was a truly, truly wild era, don't ever let anyone tell you differently.

all that to say, i've been here for a hot minute and i developed my own first impressions on bts and the members as individuals in a vacuum. no one had to point jikook out to me, they stuck out on their own.

potentially relevant disclaimer before we continue: i am really really queer. i grew up in the united states conservative deep south and had to change high schools my sophomore year bc i was outed and then violently ostracized for being in a relationship with my same sex best friend at the time. it is safe to say i have a lot of feelings about and experience even when it comes to having to be low key (understatement lol) about who you love. i am not here just to make my barbies kiss.

actually, on that note, jikook wouldnt even be my chosen barbies out of bts. if we're in true fantasy delulu hours here, i would want yoonjin to be real. god, that would be the stuff, they're so old married as it is. peak romance.

i think the first place jikook ever truly caught my attention were the memories dvds. jimin has always been a sweet, bby angel taking care of all his members but i remember thinking that he seemed to pay a little extra, special attention to jungkook. and of course, why not, jk's the maknae after all. all of them have always been doting on him and deservedly so. but in those briefly shown really serious, quiet moments, jimin was often first in line. a spot very easy for him to obtain tbh as jk never seemed to be very far from him anyway. maybe if you've never in real time lived the satellite jeon accusations (hi pandemic army, bless you, i hope you make it to 2025 when we have them all back without restrictions) you might find them easier to dismiss but it was so consistent back then in all of the content being released. and once noticed, i don't know how anyone ever un-notices it. but i was in deep before i even realized the water was boiling.

should i talk about why not tkook? or ynmin, for me? i'm just pulling those as examples bc i know they're the popular contenders here but all joking in the beginning of this post aside, none of the other members interpersonal relationships, in any configuration (sadly, RIP yoonjin romance), have ever struck me as anything other than puppy crush/deep friendship/family. and that's not bc i don't think over half of those men aren't queer in some form or fashion because WHEW, that is an entirely different post and we simply do not have the time to unpack rn but it's not for lack of looking.

i started in a vacuum, but i have by no means stayed there, i walked in all of those front doors and sat down and said "convince me." i've got the time and lack of life, i am ready to be won over. what have i missed?

to this day i still regularly try and check my own confirmation bias, i'm obviously looking for jikook at this stage but i'm still ready on my toes if any of the others want to get crazy. (yoonjin i am rooting for you, we're all rooting for you)

and i'm not here to really persuade or sway anyone one way or another either. there are a 1000 other blogs on this site that can probably offer you better explanations, specific clips, and detailed break downs of moments throughout the years and even then people are going to see what they want to see. i just wanted to write some of my own thoughts down finally.

though...i guess if i had to point to any one single piece of "evidence" it would definitely be tried and true gcf tokyo? but if watching that the first time didn't ring through you like a gunshot, i def don't think there's anything i could say beyond that.

honestly, i think so much of "why jikook" for me boils down to the pit in the bottom of my stomach that i used to get when i first began to notice them. when i got past the initial warm fuzzies inspired by the sincerity of their interactions, my immediate second emotion was concern.

i remember the first time i heard some of the other boys make an offhand joke about them being a couple and i got anxious, fast. i thought hide, hide better, please be safe. i began to pay extra attention to the other members in general too when jikook would do things and felt like i could sometimes see a similar anxiety to my own in their expressions. for a long time, i just worried about them and where i saw other people rejoice in their more obvious moments, i was slow to celebrate.

despite my initial hesitation, it's now been about 5 years since the first time they ever made me double take. they're a few years younger than me but i feel like we've been growing up together. (parasocial? idk her.) they're less conspicuous these days, and for lots of obvious reasons, but i feel like overall, their confidence in themselves and each other is quite high. i know that's probably a funny thing to say in light of this last week especially, but i stand by it. i've seen this song and dance before. i have managed my own expectations in the past, taken full steps back only to be beaten anew over the head so many times with enough "coincidences" i felt borderline foolish to try and deny anything. jikook are truly some sort of neuro-spicy pattern recognition drug, i swear.

and i've never really gotten to talk about any of this with anyone before! i'm shy irl, and shy online apparently bc i have just been lurking around the outer lines of this circle this whole time like some creepy creep but i've decided i'm over it. fuck it. growth.gif. idk that i have anything important or new to contribute to the conversation but my god, no one else seems to let that stop them so i might as well take my turn on the soapbox, no?

so 📢 JIKOOK REAL (?) jikook sus. jikook make bandaged queer little heart go boom boom.

[feralfanatic]

Can I get your guy's input?

Okay, so I've been rewatching bits and pieces of big hero 6 the series after litteral years of not watching it and I wanted to ask; what's ya'lls opinion of Karmi? I think on paper or in concept she'd be interesting and someone I might relate to, someone interested in bio-tech/virology and is a smart female character who gets obsessive with her interests (from what I can pick up on and read from the wiki's) and struggles with social interactions. I think in story her role is meant to be a rivals/enemies to lovers (I know it'd likely be more rivals but I bring up enemies for a specific point later) type arc with Hiro, and a female character in a similar situation to Hiro in which challenges/apposes Hiro but ultimately grow to get along, but I'm not very fond of her in practice. I related to her yet was annoyed by her as a child, but looking back on her she makes me a bit uncomfortable. This isn't to hate on people who like Hiro x Karmi or the character herself, but I think she just irks me slightly. I was reading some people thoughts on her and the whole fanfiction aspect, while it could've been cute, jsut feels creepy to me, I understand that people like to write self insert stuff irl, and I used to have self insert stuff on this blog and I like reading self insert stuff, BUT WITH FICTIONAL CHARACTERS. And in universe, Karmi is writing about Hiro's alter ego/superhero form, who in her universe is a real person, though they're both fictional to us, they're real to each other because it's a story. (Though that's a tangent). My point with this is that from what I can tell it makes Hiro uncomfortable but his discomfort is played off/disregarded) There's also the added bit that Karmi repeated harasses/bullies Hiro in his civilian form and it irks me a bit. There can be good bullies to lovers type stories but to me, this reads off as it's meant to be endearing when it really isn't in my opinion. I've had similar situations happen to me in terms of bullying and it just is kind of upsetting to me. Going beyond that, I've foudn other posters (Which I'll link below) that talk about how Karmi acts with Hiro's alter ego, and how it comes off as kind of stalker-ish, which is another nail in the coffin for me, Karmi is repeatedly harassing and bullying Hiro in school then fawns over and sort of stalks is Hiro form while writing self insert fanfic that makes Hiro uncomfortable, while also insinuating Hiro has a crush on her in school when he doesn't and he seems uncomfortable. This feels less like academic rivals to or even enemies to lovers, because enemies generally mutually hate each other/have some form of equal footing, but this just seems like Hiro's a victim of bullying, harassment, and some stalker-ish tendencies from Karmi. I'm not super far into my re-watch of the series because I don't have much time due to end-of-the-school-year stuff and the fact Karmi just makes me not want to watch the show that much, but I kind of wanted to get feedback from other fans of BH6 as to Karmi's character and the Hiro x Karmi ship, I'm not trying to attack anyone, but I jsut find Karmi uncomfortable. While I think media can explore uncomfortable/dark/toxic ships and themes, I think with how the show treats Karmi as endearing and how the characters around her justify this behavior (from what I've noticed, like I said I haven't finished re-watching the show and I'm mostly going off of other fan's opinions I've noticed) I just think Karmi as a character is someone who in concept could've bene interesting, but in practice is somewhat damaging since I believe she makes Hiro a victim of harassment yet is played to be endearing/cute. Hiro honestly needs some friends his age and a god damn better romantic life in my opinion. (I know the show has ended already and this may be old news but I don't interact with fandom that much so far and I just wanna know if I'm insane on this take or not).

BH6 is repeatedly praised for it's deep messages with grief and I think that a series that had a target demographic of children and teens should be careful with this type of messaging, I really don't think Hiro and Karmi's ship/'romance' would survive if they were genderbent or if the people behind the show cared to realize Karmi's behavior isn't healthy. Here's some other people's takes I found on this that I think support this line of thinking. https://www.tumblr.com/rintotherinrin/752020470653648896/my-personal-beliefs-on-why-hiro-is-a-victim?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/insanely-creative-things/624822928012443648/everything-wrong-with-karmi-and-why-its-a-problem?source=share

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

By the time it’s through, Harry is a panting victorious mess.

He swears some Gryffindors get dumber by the year. They were pulling the same stunt at every start of the term. I mean, Harry scoffs and thinks to himself, they couldn’t even have been bothered to pick a different corridor. It astounds Harry how persistent their hatred of Slytherins—of him especially, remains even after all these years.

Like, so what? He can talk to a few snakes, and he’s alright at quidditch, and, yeah, he defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort when he was a baby and then sorted Slytherin at eleven. It’s not like anyone told him it was some cultural taboo to accidentally end a war and sort into the mass murderer’s Hogwarts House.

Honestly, Harry has a sneaking suspicion that even if someone had told him, he’d of ended up in a similar, if not worse, situation. So he’ll take the yearly Gryffindor smackdown any day.

Surveying his handiwork, Harry gives a pleased nod to nothing in particular. These six definitely need the medi-wing, but, seeing as Harry was slighted from the Head Boy position and finishing off his final year at Hogwarts as a mere seventh-year prefect, he figures this can slip under his radar. Of course, it’s not good to slack on the first week back, and usually Harry frowns at anything of the sort, but six to one is his new personal best. So, this little lapse in duty can be a small treat for a job well done.

The pep to his step and smile on his face certainly agree with Harry’s decision as he does an about-face and walks a few paces only to come toe to toe with their latest Defence professor.

Shite.

Harry’s face shutters and he freezes in place. There’s no way he can talk his way out of this. But, more importantly, what the hell is he going to do about a bloody witness.

In the haze of panic, Harry has enough sense to correct his posture quickly. He straightens up, shoulders back, hands clasped behind him, and speaks politely, if a little blandly, “Professor Riddle.” Harry bows his head in what he hopes comes across as a sign of respect and not the blatant attempt to hide his wince that it is. How could he have been so careless?

Professor Tom Riddle is the hot new thing in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Not only for the ne’er-do-well gossip mongrels but also just- generally. He’s incredibly attractive and incredibly unknown. Sure, he has more than enough qualifications for the position, but no one has any useful information on the man other than the fact that he might have been a Slytherin in another life. And that’s only because he’s got a pet snake slithering about, allegedly.

All of that to say: Harry has no idea how his new professor will react to this. But it’s vital that he keeps his head down this year; nothing can come between him and freedom from the Dursleys. Especially not a little roughhousing with a few morons. If Professor Riddle punishes him with a detention or eight, it will be a low blow but bearable— and if he brings what Harry’s done to the Headmaster…

Harry is certain expulsion will be considered with a heavy hand. Headmaster Dumbledore did not like Harry one bit.

“Harry Potter,” Professor Riddle’s voice is deep and just on the edge of lilting. It’s a nice voice, Harry’s shocked to acknowledge. His lessons will be a huge step up from Snape’s temporary claim of the role. Thank the gods they forced him back to Potions. Though, Slughorn’s lessons and overall attitude were pleasant while they lasted.

They both stood without saying another word in tense silence. Well, tense for Harry. He’s not too sure what’s rattling around in Professor Riddle’s head that’s keeping him so quiet.

Actually, Harry couldn’t imagine being on the other end of this scenario. Like, what would he do if he’d come upon some kid, who by almost all accounts was the supposed saviour of the wizarding world, beating the shite out of six Gryffindor students? Harry doesn’t think he’d handle it as well as Professor Riddle seems to be. In fact, maybe they should both take a cue from Fake-Professor-Harry and just pretend this never happened.

Harry’s neck is just starting to strain from its lock level with the floor when Professor Riddle speaks, “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

His head snaps up at the pleasant, almost jolly tone. Professor Riddle is staring out into the courtyard, eyes glued to something far, far in the distance. Completely ignoring the six injured students mere metres away.

Dumbfounded, Harry replies, “It’s evening.” And it is evening. Harry tries to look out at whatever has Professor Riddle’s steadfast attention and can’t pinpoint a damn thing. It’s dark as all hell out there. Finally, in the awkward pause, Harry finds the wherewithal to look back and tack on a belated, “Professor.”

Professor Riddle’s eyes slip to Harry’s face, but his head remains still, and Harry comes to the startling realisation that this is meant to be an act. Anyone passing by, or any nosey portraits, would still believe him enchanted by the courtyard and not confronting a rogue student.

“I know you’re socially inept, Mr Potter. But you are not stupid.”

And with that charming, hissed comment, Harry turns about-face once again to also fake watch the courtyard. “Why yes, sir. Very lovely.”

“It seems,” Professor Riddle starts up again, “in my vacant-minded appreciation for this beautiful day, I have forgotten some paperwork in my office. Could you spare a moment to accompany me?” Harry hears the loud and clear statement as what it is: a demand.

“Of course, sir. I happen to be returning to the common room and going that direction regardless.” Harry is oddly proud of the truth of this. He is technically done with his prefect rounds now, anyhow.

“Very good. Come along.”

The walk to Professor Riddle’s office is long. It’s made longer by their run-in with a few of the Hogwarts Ghosts. Peeves has always had this odd tolerance for Harry that he’s gladly taken advantage of more times than he can count. Something about his father and his father’s friends, the best group of pranksters to ever walk these halls! or whatever. Harry’s not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, their slight distraction with Peeves has nothing on the Grey Lady’s interaction with Professor Riddle.

She never takes an interest in anyone outside of her little Ravenclaws if Hermione is to be believed. And Hermione is rarely ever wrong. So Harry is on the deep end of surprised when she floats down the other end of the fifth-floor corridor, sees them coming, and waits. Ghosts can’t really be described as warm— unless you were talking about the Fat Friar, and only then because, even as a ghost, he appears to be wearing too many layers for this time of year— but the Grey Lady’s soft eyes for Professor Riddle is a near thing.

“Tom,” she starts as Harry follows his professor’s lead and stops to greet her. “You’re back.”

Harry tries to keep as quiet as a mouse because he very desperately wants to know what she means by that, and he doesn’t think she’s even realised he’s here yet. Harry doesn’t even think he’s ever heard her speak before, either, but her voice is as soft as her eyes. Dainty like bells.

“Yes, Lady Ravenclaw. It has been a long time.” Professor Riddle seems pleased she remembers him. But… Harry can’t put his finger on it. Something just feels off. His neck prickles with that alert sort of awareness, the kind he’s never really been able to break since he was a kid—that prickle of danger.

Grey Lady nods, “Nearly three decades.”

Three decades? Hell, that’s a long time. How old is Professor Riddle anyway? He doesn’t look a day older than thirty, but unless Grey Lady knew him pre-birth, Harry would have to reevaluate his perception of wizard ages.

Harry is vaguely aware that this is all none of his business, and he really shouldn’t be standing here listening closely and pondering on whether or not Professor Riddle was a good Ravenclaw back in the day. But knowledge is power, right? As an obvious Ravenclaw Alumni, Professor Riddle would appreciate Harry’s retention. And since Harry still has no idea how he’ll react to the little skirmish from earlier, looking out for possible blackmail wouldn’t be amiss.  

Professor Riddle looks surprised, “I don’t recall speaking with you the last time I was here.”

“Because you didn’t,” her reply is simple and to the point. Not said with any ounce of anger. It’s undoubtedly spoken with a fair amount of weight, however.

Harry hasn’t spent six, going on seven, years in the snake pit not to pick up on her clear underlying message: you didn’t see me, but I saw you. And even though it sounds like a threat, Harry is confident she only means it as a warning. A warning for what? Harry hopes to find out.

“How terribly remiss of me,” Professor Riddle shakes his head as though ashamed. “We should rectify this, of course, and speak at length when you have the time,” his accompanying smile is bright and charming. Harry almost wants to whistle in appreciation. That is some fine schmoozing if he says so himself.

But Grey Lady doesn’t respond. Instead, she floats on, and as she passes Harry, her shoulder phasing through his, he can’t help noticing her stricken face. The purse to her lips and the translucent grip of her hands, it’s almost like she’s scared.

Harry watches her go, still for a touch too long, and Professor Riddle clears his throat, “If you’ll continue following me, please, Mr Potter.”

His attention snaps back to the professor, “I had no idea you were a Ravenclaw, Professor Riddle.”

Professor Riddle looks very amused for a moment. Then, he continues walking and asks, “Whatever gave that away?”

Harry is immediately suspicious, “Ravenclaw’s Ghost. She doesn’t speak with anyone outside of her House. Even the professors have a hard time catching her attention unless they are one of her past students.” When Professor Riddle doesn’t respond right away, Harry adds, “For example, she didn’t acknowledge me once during your conversation.”

“That is true,” he nods, and that strange amusement lingers on the edges of Professor Riddle’s lips. They don’t speak for the remainder of their walk, though it isn’t without Harry trying.

Really, Harry hasn’t met anyone this paranoid in his life— maybe Moody, but the Auror is in a league all his own. However, Professor Riddle isn’t far behind, acting as though even the floors have ears. Or, at least, Harry assumes it’s paranoia stopping the Professor from answering. Maybe he’s just fed up with Harry’s questions…

As they enter the Defence classroom, Harry takes in the changes. Each Defence Professor certainly came with their own flair. Lockhart with his vain decor and opulence, Remus with his purely educational and scientific creatures posters and skeletons, Moody with his nearly claustrophobic clutter of dark curse detectors and jars of worms and bees, Umbridge with her bare-walled bleakness almost as though she could be the only thing of note in the room, Snape with his… well… Snape-ness—no one was surprised to come into the drawn curtain, candle-lit, gruesome pictured room last year.

Professor Riddle is an interesting mix, Harry thinks. Not over the top with gold and silver or anything like that, but there’s definitely a lustre to everything that speaks of fine quality. There’s a nice variety of defence posters, all topics from creatures to spells to stances to potions. How refreshing after the gloom of Snape. It’s brighter in here, Harry notes. Even in the late hour, the warm glow of the room is inviting.

Harry carefully tucks away the sight of a large empty vivarium for later questioning as Professor Riddle shows him up the staircase to his office.

“Have a seat, Mr Potter.” Professor Riddle rounds his desk, a simple wooden piece, large and already strewn with papers, and takes a seat. Harry follows suit, taking in his office with much less attention than the classroom. If only because it seems Professor Riddle hasn’t finished setting it up to his standards. Piles of books sit abandoned by the many bookshelves covering one wall, and a fair amount of boxes are open and unopened in each corner.

Harry takes a deep breath and readies to defend himself. He thinks he’s got a pretty reasonable defence (pun intended) for his Defence Professor. Even if the man has heard of Harry through gossip rags like Witch Weekly and the hardly-a-news-source Daily Prophet, Harry figures he’s still got the benefit of the doubt.

Unless, of course, Professor Riddle had strong affiliations during the war. That could always go either way. Harry’s met some pretty chill Voldemort supporters over the years and some pretty not-chill ones. The Malfoys, for instance, treat him like a second son, and Harry’s mostly sure that’s only because they think him the next Dark Lord or something. Whereas Theodore Nott, and probably his whole family, definitely hates Harry’s guts for killing Voldemort.

“Professor Riddle, about what happened earlier, I can explain—“ Harry starts and is near immediately cut off.

“You’re quite gifted in spell casting, aren’t you, Mr Potter?” Professor Riddle leans back and crosses his legs, hands in his lap. Okay…he doesn’t look like he’s about to get Harry expelled… And is that a compliment?

“Uh,” Harry stutters. He’s still not good with praise; it’s still so foreign to him. “I wouldn’t use that word, Professor. But thank you.”

Professor Riddle shakes his head, “It is nothing to thank me for if it is a fact. When I was accepted for the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, I first requested a list of all the students and their academic placements.” He pauses to shuffle the papers around on his desk until he pulls out one long parchment, “Four years straight, you held the top of the list in Defence for your year, and your Ordinary Wizarding Levels were exemplary even though you appear to have barely scraped by in fifth-year with a Dreadful.”

Professor Riddle glances up at Harry with a world-weary look, “I have speculations about why you placed so low the last two years. A Troll for sixth-year? With the casting I saw? Highly unlikely.”

Harry blinks, “Oh,” is all he can muster. Welp, that answers how much of the duel Professor Riddle had seen. And, surely he didn’t have all the Hogwarts students’ placements memorised so thoroughly? Is it just his seventh-year classes? Is it just Harry?

For the first time all evening, Harry is struck with the sudden question: why was Professor Riddle in a random seventh-floor corridor, anyway?

Now, Harry can say what he likes about paranoid people being paranoid. Unfortunately, it didn’t mitigate the fact that Harry was a touch paranoid himself. And, even though Professor Riddle hasn’t come off as anything less than concerned-professor-addressing-his-student, Harry still hasn’t quite gotten over that prickle of danger back with Grey Lady. It would be absolutely batty to think Professor Riddle was following him, or whatever, but now that Harry’s thought about it, he can’t stop thinking about it.

“That is just Defence. You have placed consistently in the top 10 of almost all your other classes since you arrived at Hogwarts,” Professor Riddle rolls up the parchment and sets it aside. “Divination and you do not seem to agree, however.”

Harry can’t tell if Riddle is impressed, surprised, or both. Honestly, he’s kind of busy scoping out any easy exit points now that he’s spiralling down the my-new-defence-professor-might-be-stalking-me rabbit hole. Harry lets out a strained laugh and hopes that’s enough of an answer.

“You appear to be a bright young man, so why did you feel the need to fight six Gryffindor students after curfew, Mr Potter?”

Indignant, Harry decides to shelf his panic attack for later, “I didn’t feel the need. This is a yearly thing they like to do. They’ve decided they are within their rights to punish me for my audacity to sort Slytherin when I was eleven and enjoy cornering me during my prefect rounds.”

Riddle arches his brow, “This has been going on for years?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve not gone to your Head of House?”

Harry nearly scoffs, “Snape and I do not get along.”

“Professor Snape, Mr Potter,” Riddle’s amused smile is back in full force.

Harry presses his lips into a thin line and counts backwards from ten. Twice. “Of course, sir. Professor Snape and I do not get along. He tolerates me on the best of days and probably plans out my murder in vivid detail on the worst.”

Peeves may love Harry’s father. Snape decidedly didn’t. Hardly fair, if anyone asked him, that he has to take Snape’s shitty abuse just because he looks like a man he’s never met.

Riddle nods and tilts his head. He’s silent for a moment before he asks, “And do you like Slytherin House?”

It’s such an out-of-left-field question that Harry gapes for a moment. He pulls himself together enough to give it some serious thought. Does he like being a Slytherin? He’s never been anything else, so it’s hard to say. It was pretty shitty in the beginning. Being ostracised for doing something he didn’t even remember or know about until a month before school while also adjusting to a totally new concept like magic being real was kind of awful. And he wouldn’t recommend it. Still—

“Yes,” Harry answers passionately and wholeheartedly. “I love it. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

And he means it. Because even though first-year had its fair share of torture, it was also magic. It was walls that opened with a whispered word revealing a room with a sea-floor view and green velvet sofas, it was his very own room after years of sleeping in a cupboard under the stairs, it was his first friend and his first laugh, it was wands and potions and spells and charms and magic.

Riddle does seem surprised now, as though he expected Harry to give a very different answer. His quiet turns thoughtful for a long, long while, and Harry wonders how long their meeting will drag out. It’s well after curfew and prefect hours now, isn’t it?

A dragging sound pulls them both from their silence.

Harry’s eyes quickly lock on a stack of precariously stacked boxes. They move slightly as though pushed and wobble dangerously. After a few moments of nothing, a large snake head appears from around its corner.

And that answers Harry’s question about the empty vivarium in the classroom.

The snake’s scales against the stone floor are what make the dragging sound as it carefully moves closer and closer to Harry. A quick glance at Riddle shows that he has no intentions of stopping it; great. In fact, that amusement is far too obvious once again.

Belatedly Harry realises the snake is sort of massive, far longer than any snake he’s ever seen. Including that one ball python at the zoo. The snake’s body gracefully adjusts as it creeps up and up and up until its head is level with Harry’s. A cool forked tongue quickly brushes against his cheek. Harry blinks, wide-eyed.

“Excuse Nagini, Mr Potter. She’s just curious.”

Harry knows he shouldn’t say anything. He knows it’s too risky to reply because he can’t quite control his parseltongue in front of snakes, but he can’t just sit here and not say anything. He’s still trying to get out of expulsion and maybe even a few detentions, after all. So he looks very hard at Riddle and desperately hopes the man won’t act too cruel if Harry slips up, “It’s-s fine, s-sir.”

Harry winces. Even he can tell his s sounds were a little too harsh just then, and Riddle’s brown eyes sharpen at the curious drag of his voice.

Riddle leans forward, elbows on the desk, hands clasped together, and tilts his head. “That’s right. As a Slytherin, you must not mind snakes. Comes with the territory?”

“You could,” Harry swallows, “s-ay that.” He grits his teeth. Hope is a lie. He needs to get out of here.

Somehow Riddle leans ever so closer, “It’s interesting. I was under the impression that her presence here might cause a great disturbance. Headmaster Dumbledore was very worried about student safety and their reactions.”

Harry pauses. His eyes drift back over to Nagini. What? Wait, “Student safety?”

Suddenly Riddle is up and standing. It startles Harry more than he’ll ever admit, and while he’s distracted by that, Nagini rests her large head on his shoulder and inches her way behind his neck, “A speaker? You speak parseltongue, young child?”

Riddle quickly rounds to the front of his desk, his fingers tapping a pleasant little rhythm across it. He finds a comfortable spot and casually leans back against it, arms crossed. Harry’s thigh is almost brushing the long line of Riddle’s legs. Harry wants to die, just a little.

“Mr Potter, Harry,” Riddle says his name like a curse and a blessing and very, very different from how he’s been saying it all evening. A chill runs down Harry’s spine.

Nagini interrupts before Riddle can continue, “Are you cold, young child? Tom, the boy is cold. Warm him.”

“My snake seems rather taken with you, Harry,” Riddle carries on, completely ignoring Nagini and her demands. Which makes sense because Riddle doesn’t speak parseltongue, but Harry is sorely tempted to laugh at how she sounds so used to bossing Riddle around. He doesn’t scream doting pet owner, but maybe Harry’s got a bad read on him. Or maybe the fear and adrenalin are making Harry fucking crazy.

And when did he become Harry and not Mr Potter?

Harry coughs, focusing all his attention on Riddle once more, “Cool. What concern did Dumbledore have for the children?” Nailed it.

Riddle’s answering smile is large and closed-lipped. He’s not laughing, but it sure as hell feels like he is. “Headmaster Dumbledore, Harry. And it is nothing to worry about, as I have taken measures to keep you all safe. Nagini just happens to be rather poisonous; her venom is capable of killing a man in less than a minute.”

Huh. Harry suddenly doesn’t feel all too thrilled about having Riddle’s rather large, potentially man-killing, and weirdly mothering snake getting all cosy on his shoulders. Even now, she’s still hissing nonsense words of concern and praise, and really, Harry’s not been paying too close attention to her out of fear of messing up again.

Harry nods as slowly and carefully as possible. “I get why he’d be a little worried.”

Riddle hums, not necessarily agreeing, not necessarily disagreeing. “Back to our original topic, I will not be reporting your altercation with the Gryffindors.”

The fierce surprise waging a three-way war with suspicion and hope in Harry’s chest is enough to leave him breathless. How the hell did he get this lucky? “Thank you, I really appreciate it—“ Harry stops himself from adding an instinctual sir.

Harry sits uncomfortably in the realisation that Riddle is definitely laughing at him as Riddle’s brows inch up. Harry sighs and says, “s-sir.” He clears his throat.

“Apologies, Harry. It is quite late, is it not? I wouldn’t want to keep you; the term officially starts tomorrow, after all.” Riddle straightens up from his lean, and he’s closer now than he’s ever been to Harry.

“One last thing,” Riddle says, and his hands curl around either side of Harry’s neck. Harry is dizzy in the stifling nearness. Riddle’s not touching him, but the warmth radiating off his body and hands burns until Harry is certain there’ll be blisters.

Riddle carefully takes Nagini from her perch on Harry and wraps her gently across his own shoulders, “In exchange for my silence, I expect us to meet here once a week. Outside of our class time. I shall wait until you get your timetable before picking something suitable for us both.”

Harry’s eyes are glued to the floor when he says, “Yeah. Okay.”

“Harry.”

Harry’s neck whips up at breaking speed, and for just a split second, hardly a blink, Riddle’s eyes are a scolding red.

Harry blinks once, twice, three whole times before he manages a desperate, “Yes, Professor Riddle.”

Riddle’s answering smile is the cat’s canary, and Harry certainly feels like prey to a predator right now.

[violet-1atte]

Candy Cane Mocha

this is very late...oops

Summary: After being in America for six years, Jisung returns to South Korea for the holidays and reunites with his best friend and ex lover, Minho

Tags: Minsung, Christmas, holiday, exes to lovers, getting back together, fluff, Minho is whipped, Jisung is whipped, smut, bottom!Jisung, top!Minho

AO3 Link

Six years. Six years since Han Jisung had left South Korea to go study abroad in the United States. Six years since he had seen any family other than his parents. Six years since he had been home. 

It was a good six years. In that time, he had improved dramatically in his English speaking skills, made new friends, lost friends, had relationships (although largely unsatisfying), and more hookups than he could count. He had finished college and was working on getting his name known as a producer alongside his friends Chan and Changbin who were transfer students just like him. It wasn’t that he had intentionally stayed away so long. Life had just taken over and he never had the time to plan a trip back. 

This year, he decided it was time. He had some vacation time saved up from work and honestly, he missed it. The States had their own charms, but he would still get an ache in his chest, yearning for his small hometown in South Korea even six years later. That was why he planned a four week vacation to visit his family for Christmas and see them for as much time as possible. 

As he waited for his parents to pick him up at the airport, a nervous excitement bubbled in his stomach. His parents had come to visit him while he had been gone, but it had been so long since he had been home, he didn’t know what to expect. What had changed? What had stayed the same? Did his parents keep his old bedroom in the same state he left it or did they clear it out? Did the same people live in his neighborhood or had they all left like Jisung six years before? If the same people were there, would they remember Jisung? And if they remembered him, what would they think of him? Was his ex still living here or had he left too? Jisung didn’t know whether he wanted him to be there or not. Would it be a crime to say he missed him even though it had been so long? 

There were so many questions Jisung had, and they all left his mind the moment he saw his parents. They hugged him and he hugged them back harder. His mom nearly cried, cupped his cheeks, and whined about how he was, “Too skinny.” His chest filled with warmth and for a moment he forgot all of his worries about returning. 

When he got home, his mother started preparing dinner. “I also got cheesecake for you,” she said, and Jisung’s mouth watered. “I thought you might like a little treat after that ridiculously long flight.” 

Jisung pressed his lips together, a knot forming in his throat. “Thank you, eomma,” he said softly. “Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?” 

“Oh no need,” his mother stated with a wave of her hand. “You appa will be helping me anyway. You should go and rest before dinner. I know you must be exhausted.” 

At the suggestion of rest, the fatigue hit Jisung’s body and his limbs felt too heavy for him to carry. He was exhausted. The jetlag was going to hit him hard and being on the plane for so many hours had taken it out of him. “Okay. I think I will go up to my room and rest for a bit,” he said with a smile. 

“Good! I’ll call you when dinner’s done.” 

Jisung grabbed his suitcases he had set down and made his way up the stairs to his old bedroom. His chest tightened as he took in the layout of the house, the same as it had always been. Family pictures lined the walls and he cringed at the school photo from his sophomore year where he was wearing thick rimmed glasses and had bright blue braces on his teeth. 

When he opened his bedroom door, he was suddenly eighteen again–unsure of himself, apprehensive of the future, mourning the end of his high school relationship–everything was exactly as he had left it, albeit a bit cleaner. The shelf full of manga he had left thinking it would be too immature to bring with him still remained, as did the shelf of figurines below that. His old posters were still on his wall, only the corners were curled in. His bed was made but he had no idea if it was with the same set he had made it with when he left. Knowing his mom and her affinity for cleanliness, probably not. But it didn’t even matter. It was all so similar that the wave of memories it brought back was almost too much for Jisung to handle. 

Going to sleep was the easiest solution to dampening the onslaught of emotionally-charged memories that being home produced. It didn’t take long for him to doze off either, and he only awoke when his father called to him from the bottom of the steps. He did a double take when he woke up, absorbing his surroundings in confusion before he relaxed. It was like stepping back into the past. 

As they sat down to dinner and Jisung filled his plate, his earlier questions came rushing back. “Has the town changed much since I’ve been gone? I remember you said they added a new shelter here,” Jisung started. There had always been stray cats and dogs wandering around his neighborhood when he was a kid, so the addition of a shelter was extremely welcome. 

“Not too much, honestly,” his father said with a shrug. “You know how it is around here. Nothing much to write home about.” He laughed softly, and Jisung was reminded how much he had missed the sound. Even though his parents came to visit, it had still been over a year. “We’ve had a couple families move out here and there, a couple move in. But it’s mostly the same.” 

Jisung nodded softly and then his mother got a lightbulb look on her face. “Oh! But this new coffee shop opened recently. About a year ago, I think. It’s such a cute little place, really gives the village an extra homey feel to it. It’s actually run by–” 

His father cleared his throat and gave his wife a pointed look. “It is really lovely,” he agreed. “You should check it out. We won’t be here tomorrow since I’ll be working at the office and your eomma will be at the shelter, so it’d give you something to do,” he suggested. 

Jisung wanted to ask about what his mom was going to say before she was cut off, but he decided it probably wasn’t important. He simply smiled and nodded at the suggestion. “That does sound nice. I’ve always loved places like that. Maybe I can work on some lyrics while I’m there.” He didn’t write music as much as he produced but there were still some artists he needed to work on lyrics for. Cafes and coffee shops were the best place to do work like that. 

“Good!” his mother said with a sweet smile. “I’m sure you’ll love it.” And contrary to what his younger self believed, she was often right, so Jisung believed her. 

“I’m sure I will,” he responded. 

His parents shared a look that he couldn’t interpret but then the topic shifted and he forgot about the entire exchange, other than the fact that he needed to visit the cafe. 

As much as Jisung loved winter, the wind nipping at his already numb cheeks was not his favorite thing. He pulled his scarf up just a bit higher so that it covered the bottoms of his cheeks and he rubbed his gloved hands over his skin. He reasoned that at least he would have a warm drink and a cozy coffee shop to sit in soon and all the wind and icy temperatures would be worth it. Thankfully, the shop was not too far away from his home and he was able to admire all the Christmas lights and decorations that lined the streets. Even if he was cold on the outside, he felt warm on the inside. 

The coffee shop was not easy to miss. He noticed it as soon as he came upon the building. The outside was decorated with garland and icicle lights and there was a large sign on the front that read, Lino’s Coffee and Tea in cursive lettering. The same title was printed across the two big windows in the front. The door was painted red and had a large wreath hanging on it, which Jisung admired for a moment before he opened the door. 

A quiet chime went off as Jisung pushed the door open and a delicious concoction of scents hit his nose as soon as he stepped inside. Rich coffee mixed with cinnamon and the smell of sweet pastries, and it made Jisung’s mouth water. There was no one standing at the counter, but there were a few patrons sitting at various tables, sipping on lattes and snacking on expertly prepared pastries. The display at the counter caught Jisung’s eye immediately, and while he had originally been planning on just getting a coffee, the sight of a cheesecake with a spiral of red strawberries around the edge and drizzles of chocolate over the top caught his eye. 

From inside the kitchen, someone called, “I’ll be with you in a minute!” and for a second, the voice sounded extremely familiar, but Jisung couldn’t place it. 

That was, until the owner of the voice stepped out. In an instant Jisung’s eyebrows shot up and his mouth fell agape. Deep-set brown eyes, rose-petal mouth, sharp jawline, the most perfect nose he had ever seen–he would recognize that face anywhere. 

The same look of recognition passed over the other man’s face and after a few seconds, his shocked expression softened and he smiled softly. “Jisung-ah,” he said, and Jisung’s stomach flipped when his name rolled off his tongue. His voice held the same, gentle warmth that it always had when he spoke to him. But that had been so long ago.

“Minho-hyung,” he breathed. 

He had not seen Minho in six years and it had been four or five since he had last spoken to him. He couldn’t exactly remember.  But at one point, they had been best friends. And before that, Minho had been his boyfriend. 

They started dating when Minho was in his senior year of high-school and Jisung was in his junior year. They had been friends since 7th grade and Minho was his first kiss. His first everything. Minho never intended to go to college so he was still around even as Jisung was in his senior year. But when Jisung graduated, that's when everything changed. They started having more disagreements, more tension, and less romance. Part of that was fueled by the fact that Jisung had applied to a college in the United States and was fully planning on attending. Minho acted like it would be okay and he would be fine, that they would be fine, but it was clear he was having a difficult time handling it. In the end, they both agreed to break up and go back to being friends. 

As time went on though, they progressively started talking less and less. The major time difference coupled with Jisung’s busy life and their past put a rift between them and at one point, one of them sent the last message. Jisung couldn't remember who, but he had a feeling it was him. 

"It's been a while," Minho said, bringing Jisung back to the present. "How long has it been?" 

"Gosh." Jisung rubbed the back of his neck. "Six years? Yeah. Six years. It's been a long while." 

"It has," Minho agreed with a nod. He was rocking back and forth–Jisung could imagine him bouncing on the balls of his feet. It was something he often did when he was excited or nervous. Jisung didn't know what to do with either of those things. “What are you doing back here?” 

“I’m here to visit my parents and just visit…home,” he answered, hesitating at the word “home.” “I’ve been saving up vacation time and money. So I was finally able to travel.” 

Minho hummed softly. “That’s good. Really good.” And really, Jisung couldn’t agree more.

"How have you been? Is this your place?" Jisung asked, gesturing around to the coffee shop. "Fuck wait–Lino? Is that you? Lee Minho? " 

A smile bloomed across Minho’s face and Jisung’s heart stuttered in his chest. Oh shit. It was just as beautiful as he had always remembered it. Even more so. He still had the same lopsided grin, the same slightly crooked front teeth. 

Jisung’s stomach felt like a whole zoo. 

"Yeah, this is my place. I opened it up about two years ago. I was working to open it for a while before though. The idea came to me when you–" Minho cleared his throat and glanced down. When you left, Jisung gathered. "I didn't really know what to do with myself. You know I was kind of directionless for a while…well I knew I didn't want to leave, and I loved baking and coffee, so it just made sense." 

Picturing Minho putting so much work into this little coffee shop–spending hours developing recipes, saving money to open–made Jisung's chest fill with warmth. He had always been such a hard worker and Jisung had always admired him for it. That hadn't changed. "Well it's beautiful. And everything–everything smells amazing and looks–wow. I can't believe you did this all on your own. It's spectacular. Wow." Jisung couldn't help his exclamations of awe. It really was amazing. The inside of the coffee shop was honestly beautiful, decorated for Christmas just like the outside. He hadn't even noticed the Christmas tree in a corner of the shop until he started looking around as he attempted a coherent compliment. 

Minho laughed, soft and bright, and it was the most beautiful sound Jisung had ever heard. Wow, he had missed him. It was insane how fast he felt comfortable around him again. “Thank you, I’m glad you like it,” he said genuinely. “Ah, I’m taking up your time. You probably have things to do. What can I get you, Jisung-ah?” 

“No, no, it’s okay! I was just gonna chill here for a bit, work on some song lyrics, you’re good,” Jisung said, waving his hand. “I think I’ll take a large candy cane mocha, and…a slice of that cheesecake there,” he said, pointing at the cheesecake on the display. A knowing grin spread across Minho’s face and he nodded as he typed Jisung’s order into a little keypad on the counter. 

“You never change,” he mumbled, the smile still on his face. 

Jisung’s cheeks warmed and he bit his lip. In the past, Jisung got cheesecake on every outing he possibly could, and it was his dessert of choice on dates. He didn’t respond as he paid, but he couldn’t get the thought out of his mind that Minho remembered. 

A few other people entered the shop as Jisung waited for Minho to finish his drink and get his dessert but Jisung’s eyes were focused on Minho. Over the years, Minho’s appearance had matured so much and he had grown into his features in a way that made him even more beautiful, which Jisung hadn’t thought possible when they were together in high school. 

When Minho handed Jisung his drink and his plate of cheesecake, their fingertips brushed. Minho didn’t seem to notice, but the contact sent sparks up Jisung’s arm. He needed to remind himself that this was his ex. His ex he had not spoken to in years. There was no reason for him to be reacting to him this way. None. 

Except, as he thanked Minho and began to move to find a table to sit at, Minho called out to him. “Jisung-ah,” he began, then clenched his fists on the edge of the counter, “it’s good to see you again. I…I missed you.” And oh this was not good for Jisung’s poor, lonely heart. 

He hadn’t realized how much of an ache there had been in his heart until it lifted, eased by Minho’s presence, his words. He swallowed a lump in his throat and inhaled. “I missed you too, hyung.” 

-

Minho and Jisung’s breakup had been Minho’s idea. It was mutual, and Jisung agreed to it almost immediately. That fact only made it harder for Minho, though. When he brought it up, part of him hoped that Jisung would fight for him, that he would say they could work things out, that distance wouldn’t destroy the love they had. Instead, he smiled a little sadly and nodded. “I think…I think that might be for the best.” 

No one knew that Minho spent every night for the next month crying after that. 

Years before, when his last message was left on read by the younger, Minho resigned himself to never seeing Jisung ever again. He reasoned that it was for the best, that it would help him move on and finally get settled with his life. And it had helped, even if not at first. It allowed him to focus more on planning for his cafe and that’s what he did; he threw himself into work like he never had before. In the end, it was worth it. He had a beautiful coffee shop that made a good profit and made the townsfolk happy. He was happy and he was settled. Sometimes he still thought of Jisung, wondered how he was doing and what he would say if he knew how successful Minho’s dream had become. But for the most part, Jisung was out of his mind. 

And then he walked into Minho’s shop and right back into his life. Nothing could have prepared him for the tidal wave of emotions that hit him the moment he laid eyes on Jisung. He looked the same as he always had, but he had grown up. His jaw was sharper but his cheeks were just as full. He had a few new piercings on his ears and his hair was lavender instead of the deep brown he had left with. Minho felt the same way he had felt when Jisung first held his hand, only this time the feeling choked him. 

Despite the cocktail of emotions swirling through Minho’s head, talking to Jisung was easy. As easy as it had always been. They just clicked like that. It felt like they had never stopped talking, like Jisung had never left. But at the end of the day, he had. It had been years, they were both adults, they had both been through things neither of them knew about in the time since they’d last spoken. In a way, they were practically strangers. 

And yet, Jisung looked so happy to see him. 

The interaction was something Minho couldn’t keep out of his head. It took everything in his power not to look at Jisung the entire time he was sitting at his table. He had to remind himself that things had changed, time had passed, Jisung probably had a girlfriend or a boyfriend back in America. 

Perhaps they could be friends. 

Minho had deleted his chat with Jisung a while ago but he still had his contact. He could never bring himself to delete it or block him. He had no reason to. Things had just faded out and they didn’t even end on a necessarily bad note, no matter how heartbroken Minho had been. Circumstance just brought them to that point. But now that he had seen Jisung again and he was in the area, likely staying with his parents, then there was a chance Minho could text him again and they could hang out. 

Unfortunately, Minho was scared. He was worried Jisung didn’t actually want anything to do with him and he would turn him down and he would be stuck in a pit of his own embarrassment. He needed to test the waters first. Jisung would likely be there until Christmas at least so he had time. 

What he had not been expecting was for Jisung to come into the shop almost every day from that point. The second day he came in and told him how his parents were the ones who told him to come to the coffee shop and how much they loved it. Minho realized he would have to give them a personal thank you for bringing Jisung back to him. That day he ordered a candy cane mocha again, saying that while he usually just went for an Americano, it was Christmas time so he wanted to be more festive. He had also had a larger sweet tooth lately. 

He didn’t come in the next day, but he showed up the day after that, getting a simple Americano that time. One day he came in and didn’t even order anything, just said he liked the environment and it was relaxing to write music there. Minho caught him looking at him at least five times while he was working behind the counter; there was no excuse for the way it made butterflies erupt in his stomach. 

Around a week from the first day he came in, Jisung showed up again when it was an hour before closing and he ordered a chocolate filled croissant and a hot chocolate with whipped cream. Minho gave him a little extra just because he could. And instead of leaving to sit at a table and write lyrics like he had the days before, Jisung stayed at the counter so he could talk to Minho in between customers. It was a slow day, so Minho was grateful for the company, especially since it was Jisung’s company. But he wouldn’t admit that out loud just yet. He didn’t talk about anything important, mostly just different anime he had watched recently and what some of the genres he had been working on were, but Minho held on to every word. 

The time rolled around for Minho to close up, and it made his chest ache as he thought of telling Jisung he was closing for the evening, but Jisung beat him to the topic instead. “I could help you clean up, if you want,” he suggested. 

Minho’s heart soared before it landed back on earth and he shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I’m sure you have things to do. I can handle it on my own,” he reassured him. 

Jisung’s bottom lip pushed out in a pout. It made Minho’s knees weak. Fuck, he was even worse off than he had been in the past. “I want to help though. You work here all by yourself and it’s gotta be hard, even if that’s what you usually do.” 

“I have help sometimes,” Minho said with a shrug. Jisung was still pouting and if Minho were a stronger man, he would tell him to go anyway and insist he could do it on his own like he always had. But Minho was incredibly weak. “Alright, fine. But don’t expect to get paid, this is volunteer work.” 

Jisung’s pout turned into a wide smile and he hopped off of his seat. “I know, don’t worry. I just wanted to help.” 

He shuffled behind the counter and suddenly Minho was keenly aware of the fact that since Jisung walked in two days ago, he hadn’t interacted with him without the barrier of the counter between him. Now it felt real–Jisung was actually here and not a figment of Minho’s imagination. He swallowed thickly. 

“Alright, if you want, you can just wipe down the counters and tables. I know where everything goes so I’ll take down the display.” He gestured for Jisung to follow him into the back and handed him a cloth and cleaning agent for the surfaces around the shop. 

“Sounds good to me, Minho-hyung,” Jisung said with a soft smile. He took the supplies from Minho and went back out to the front to begin wiping down the various tables and countertops. Minho watched him for a minute as he went, something tugging at his chest. He gave himself two firm pats over his heart and mumbled, “Shut up,” under his breath. 

They cleaned in relative silence. Occasionally, Jisung would break the silence by humming a melody Minho didn’t recognize under his breath. It was comfortable. This was how they always worked, Minho remembered it clearly. Silence didn’t bother either of them. They didn’t need to talk to fill some imaginary gap–each other’s presence was enough. 

With help, cleaning did go by faster. Jisung was efficient and even helped him sweep and mop so Minho could focus on fixing everything else that needed to be dealt with. 

The December sky was dark when they stepped out onto the street but the sidewalks were lit by lamps and colorful Christmas lights. Under the subtle glow, Minho could see the gentle flush on Jisung’s round cheeks. “Let me walk you home,” Minho suggested before he could think better of it. 

Jisung tilted his head at him, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Do you even remember where I live?” 

“I could never forget,” Minho admitted. He had walked past it a few times over the years and would sometimes pause in front for a moment, hoping that somehow Jisung would come through the front door. 

Jisung hummed, contemplating, and then nodded. “Okay, yeah. I could use some company on the way, if it’s not too much trouble.” He wrapped his scarf around himself, obscuring the bottom half of his face. 

“No trouble,” Minho reassured. “I’ve got nothing to do anyway." What he didn't say was that he just wanted to spend more time with Jisung. He didn’t want to go home and reminisce about the past while wishing he had just spent more time with Jisung. He didn’t even know how much time Jisung would be spending in Korea. He needed to get every second he could, even if it was the last he would ever see of him. 

The streets were fairly busy with cars and the sidewalks with people leaving work, but if anyone asked Minho later, he could only remember the two of them. They walked back together, closer than needed. They didn’t hold hands, but they came pretty damn close with the way their arms would brush together every few steps. Jisung either didn’t seem to notice or he didn’t mind. 

After they had walked a few blocks, thick flakes of snow fluttered down onto the sidewalk beneath their feet. Jisung’s eyes widened at the sight and he let out a soft gasp as more snowflakes joined in. “Oh my gosh snow! Wow, it's so pretty. Where I live in America doesn’t have much snow. This is exciting,” he said, skipping a little as he walked. 

“A little Christmas gift from the universe then,” Minho commented with a chuckle. Jisung’s eyes sparkled as he looked up at the sky and the Christmas lights reflected off them and cast a warm glow on his face. Minho was reminded that Jisung’s favorite season was winter. This walk may have been enough to make it Minho’s favorite, too. 

Jisung caught at least ten snowflakes on his tongue before they arrived at his house. Minho, unfortunately, only caught them in his eyes. But it was worth it to witness the joy on Jisung’s face. 

They paused at the door before Jisung went inside; it painfully reminded Minho of the first kiss he shared with Jisung after a walk similar to this–only that was on a warm summer evening and they were both hot and tired and so inexperienced–Minho thought that if they were to share a kiss now, it would be much better. He thought he saw Jisung’s eyes flick to his lips, but then the look was gone, Jisung meeting his eyes. “Thank you for walking me home,” Jisung said with a soft smile. 

“Of course.” Minho clenched his fists in his pockets. “Jisung-ah–I’ve been enjoying spending time with you at the coffee shop—” He watched Jisung’s face fall for a split second before he continued, “but I want to spend more time with you, if that’s okay? I know we stopped talking and it’s okay if you don’t want to but—” 

“I want to,” Jisung interrupted. “We can talk about all of that another time, I know I…I need to say some things. But I do want to.” 

Minho let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Okay. Okay then. I’ll text you. I still have your contact.” Was that embarrassing to admit? Minho realized he didn’t care. 

“Oh…that’s–that’s good. Yeah. Text me. I’ll make sure I find a time.” 

“Perfect.” Minho knew his excitement was poorly concealed but this was Han Jisung. Han Jisung who used to be his Han Jisung. “I’ll let you go in now, it’s fucking freezing. And I think my fingers are turning into popsicles.” 

Jisung laughed and shook his head. “Well you better warm them up then. I’ll see you later, Minho.” He waved and then in a blink of an eye, he was on the other side of the door. 

Minho sighed and a shiver wracked his body. Fuck it was cold. 

-

Minho messaged Jisung the next morning. Jisung was sitting in his living room, sipping a mug of hot chocolate, when his phone made a loud ping! He nearly dropped it when he attempted to pick it up to check who had messaged him and his stomach flipped when he saw the contact name. He hadn’t changed it since they had last messaged. 

Minho-hyungie

10:27am When are you free? 

Jisung 

10:28am I’m free almost any time this week :) My fam still has to work until Christmas So lonely (˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥⋆)

Minho-hyungie

10:32am Later today then? I’ll ask my friend Felix to watch over the shop until close 

Jisung 

10:33am Reallyy? What are we gonna do? 

Minho-hyungie

10:36am Mm it’s a surprise 

Jisung 

10:36am Sounds suspicious You aren’t gonna murder me are you? 

Minho-hyungie

10:37am I already have the dumpster where i’ll dump your body in mind 

Jisung 

10:39am (°△°|||) Scary 

Minho-hyungie

10:40amI’ll pick you up at 2? 

Jisung 

10:41am I’ll be ready! 

Minho-hyungie

10:42am Make sure to wear warm clothes 

When Minho came to pick Jisung up, he pestered him the entire time, begging him to tell where they were going. But Minho wouldn’t budge, even when Jisung used his biggest, saddest eyes possible. That had gotten him so many things in life so it was entirely too frustrating that it didn’t work on Minho in the moment. But Minho apparently had developed a resolve of steel over the years so he could not be persuaded. 

It was only when they actually arrived that Jisung realized the surprise was worth it. Minho was taking him ice-skating. Something he hadn’t done in years. 

“Oh my gosh!” he exclaimed, eyes blowing wide as he turned to Minho. “You’re amazing.” 

“I know I am,” Minho said with a playful grin. 

Surveying the skating rink, Jisung was hit with memories from the last time he went ice skating. He and Minho were still together at the time. It was an icy winter day, colder than this one. Minho had surprised him then too. The only real difference was that it was closer to Christmas then and of course they were holding hands and sharing soft, giggly kisses every time one of them slipped. It was a memory Jisung had totally forgotten until now. He wondered if Minho remembered that too, if this location and the surprise had been intentional. He tried not to think about it. Things were different now. They were different now. 

Yet, when he looked at Minho and he smiled at him with the same soft fondness in his eyes as he did years ago, Jisung wondered if they really were so different. 

“Still remember how to skate?” Minho asked as they walked to get their skates. Jisung rolled his eyes and scoffed. 

“Pft, of course. It’s like riding a bike, right?” 

It was not like riding a bike. 

The moment Jisung was on the ice he was slipping and sliding everywhere except where he actually wanted to go. His arms flailed around and his legs slid across the ice in opposite directions, forcing him into a near split before he landed gracelessly on his butt. His lips jutted out in an exaggerated pout as Minho doubled over laughing, clutching his sides like Jisung’s pain was the funniest thing he had ever laid eyes on. “You are not amazing. I just changed my mind. Stop laughing! ” he whined. 

Minho let out a little “ah” as he finally caught his breath and wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry, Hannie. You were just so confident.” Hannie. He hadn’t called him that in a while. 

Minho eased towards him on his own skates and held his hand out for Jisung to take. Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed and he pursed his lips but he took his hand anyway. Unfortunately, even with Minho holding his hand, he was still unsteady on his feet and they nearly slipped out from under him as he stood so he went colliding into Minho’s chest. 

Warm arms went around his waist, holding him steady. Jisung inhaled a shaky breath, his nose filling with the scent of Minho’s cologne. It was something vanilla and sweet and it made Jisung a little dizzy. “Careful,” Minho chastised, his voice so gentle and warm that it melted over Jisung like caramel. “Hold onto me and I’ll help you.” 

It wasn’t good for Jisung to be this close to Minho. His ex and ex best friend. It wasn’t good for his sanity or his heart but Jisung was selfish. It was okay anyway, right? He was just helping him skate. So he nodded, not trusting the sound of his own voice now that he’d had real physical contact with Minho and had smelled his sugary cologne. 

“Okay, wrap your arm around me.” 

Jisung did as he was told and moved away from Minho just enough that he could wrap one arm around his waist. Minho did the same, his gloved hand coming to grip the curve of Jisung’s waist. They had too many layers between them for Jisung to really feel it but his breath still hitched at the pressure. Minho didn’t seem to notice, and if he did notice, he didn’t say anything. He got right into guiding Jisung along the ice, holding him firmly so that he wouldn’t slip. It started to come back to him as they glided along the smooth surface, but Jisung didn’t want to let go, even after he became confident enough to do it on his own. It was cold and Minho was so warm and his fingers felt nice digging into his side. He was probably holding him harder than he needed to but that didn’t phase Jisung one bit. 

“You really did forget all of this in America,” Minho said, shaking his head. “Is it really that warm there?” 

“Well, no…” Jisung responded, cheeks burning from embarrassment. “I just live in California near the ocean and it’s super warm there. We hardly ever get snow there. And America is so big, hyung! There’s places there that are super cold.” 

“Oh yeah, I know. I just mean…I don’t know…kinda forgot what state you lived in,” Minho admitted sheepishly. “I thought it was like New York or something. Nevermind.” 

Jisung frowned softly, discomfort twisting in his stomach. “It’s okay. I mean, we didn’t really talk about where I was going that much…and it’s been a while.” 

Minho hummed and when Jisung glanced up his lips were pursed and his expression looked pinched. The discomfort spread through Jisung’s stomach and settled in his chest like a weight. There was something hollow there, nestling deep inside him. They had stopped moving, no longer moving smoothly across the ice. The air had gotten colder and it was thick with the unspoken truth they both knew. We don’t know each other anymore. 

Minho looked over at Jisung and his face relaxed a little. “Sorry just… I know it’s silly. It’s just where you live. But it’s really been so long. I don’t–” He swallowed and for the first time Jisung noticed his eyes were glassy. “I don’t know anything about what your life has been like for the last–what? Four years?”

The hollow feeling crawled up Jisung’s throat and he held down a distressed sound. “Let’s–let’s sit down, hyung.” 

Minho nodded in agreement and he directed them to the edge of the rink so they could sit down on one of the benches. They were silent for a moment, both of them trying to figure out what to say, what needed to be said. After a moment, Jisung decided to be the first to speak. “What do you want to know?” 

“Huh?” Minho asked, tilting his head to look at Jisung. 

“What do you want to know about me? About my life. Since the last time we talked.” 

“Everything,” Minho answered easily. “I want to know everything, please.” 

So Jisung told him everything. He told him how he never intended to stop messaging him, how it almost just happened and in the end he thought it might be for the best–but he also told him how sorry he was for that. How the guilt still twisted his stomach like a hoard of snakes whenever he thought about it. He also told him about Chan, a music student from Australia, and Changbin, another music student who had grown up in New York city his entire life but had deeply Korean traditions, both who were Jisung’s two best friends in the United States. He told him how they wanted to start a production group together called 3Racha and they had been slowly working towards producing for bigger artists. He told Minho about the relationships he had while he was in America, not missing the way that Minho’s eyes flashed at mention. He told him about the friends he had made and about the time he went out drinking with Chan and Changbin and got so drunk he made an utter fool out of himself by attempting to dance on the bar. He told him how he started seeing a therapist for his anxiety and how he discovered that working out really helped him mentally. He told him everything that he could think of, everything that would make it seem like Minho had been there all those years. 

The sky was dark with only a hint of sunlight peeking over the horizon when Jisung finished. The tips of his ears were numb and his nose was running from the cold and even though his hands were shoved into his coat pockets, they still felt cold. Anyone else who had been there previously was gone and it was getting close to the point where the rink would be closed off for the night. 

“I’m sorry I took up all our time with my talking,” Jisung said through chattering teeth. Minho smiled softly and shook his head. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s okay. I just liked spending time with you. Getting to hear you talk,” Minho told him. “Your life sounds so interesting.” 

Jisung chuckled. “Not super interesting. Just chaotic.” 

“It’s interesting to me.” Minho’s eyes held his and his gaze was so intense for a moment that Jisung’s heart nearly stuttered to a stop. But then the intensity was gone, leaving behind a mob of butterflies in Jisung’s stomach. “We should get going. Maybe get some hot cocoa since it’s so cold?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’d like that.” Jisung stood up from the bench and stretched. His limbs were stiff from the cold and from sitting so long. The thought of hot cocoa made a shiver run through him from his head to his toes. He couldn’t wait to be warm and cozy instead of freezing. 

They dropped off their skates and went to Minho’s car. On their way back, they picked up some hot cocoa to go and as the warmth settled in Jisung’s stomach he let out a content sigh. Even though they didn’t spend their whole time out ice-skating, Jisung was happy. He felt a weight was off his chest now that he had shared so much about his life with Minho. There was still more they probably needed to talk about. The end of their friendship, their breakup. Jisung still wanted to be Minho’s friend, but he couldn’t deny there was something more there. Something that could be worth pursuing now that they were both older and more mature. The problem was, Jisung was nervous. It had only been a week since they had reunited and as much as Minho now knew about his life, Jisung knew little about what Minho had been doing all this time. 

He had been working on stepping out of his comfort zone though. He had been working on facing his fears. 

“I wanna hear about your life too,” Jisung said softly, picking at the edge of the lid on his hot cocoa cup with his thumb. “I did a lot of talking and you didn’t get to tell me about yourself.” 

“It’s not all that interesting,” Minho replied with a shrug, turning the wheel with a single hand. 

Jisung shook his head adamantly. “Not true. It’s you. And I think it’s up to me to decide whether or not it’s interesting while you’re telling it, right?” He smiled playfully and Minho sighed, rolling his eyes. 

“Alright, I’ll tell you everything you need to know,” Minho said with a chuckle. “But, later. It’s late. When we hang out next. If you want that, of course.” 

Jisung bit his lip, a jolt of excitement shooting through him. Minho wanted to continue spending time with him. That was good. “I do!” He nodded. “And then you’ll tell me everything, right?” 

“I will.” Minho took a quick glance at him and smiled so fondly Jisung was sure his heart would melt through his ribcage. 

“Then I can’t wait.” His lips curled up in a soft smile and he took a sip of his hot chocolate. The drive was quiet from that point on, with only the sound of the road underneath them for background noise. Jisung tried not to let his mind wander too much, but there was still something left on his mind that he needed to say. 

They arrived at Jisung’s house and as he stepped out of the car, he turned to look at Minho. “I’m sorry. For not texting you back. I should have–I wanted to, I just—” He sighed and chewed on his bottom lip. “I don’t really have an excuse. But I didn’t forget about you. I’m sorry I did that to you.” 

Minho smiled a little ruefully but Jisung could tell that behind the hurt that must have been there, there was sincerity. “It’s okay. It’s in the past now, yeah? I think I needed it anyway.” 

Jisung gave him a nod. “Well, it won’t happen again.” He didn’t say that really, over the last few days he had realized that he never wanted Minho out of his life again. He was a different person than the one that had left for the states, a better one. He could do better now. 

Minho’s smile changed into something sweeter and Jisung’s breathing became easier. “I’m glad. And if you do leave me on read again, I’ll just keep bothering you. Sound good?” 

Jisung’s cheeks hurt from how hard he smiled. “Yeah, sounds really good, hyung.” 

They said goodbye and when Jisung went inside, he placed his hand flat over his racing heart. This was so bad for him. He felt like he was slipping on ice again, careening towards the ground. Only there was a chance that someone might be there to catch him this time. 

Jisung did not get to see Minho much for the next few days. He was busy with the coffee shop and Jisung was busy spending time with his parents and old friends. He got together with his friend Hyunjin, who he had been close to in high school, and that brought a lot of ease to him. Hyunjin was as annoying as ever, but that only made Jisung happier to see him. Their time together reminded him of more carefree days, summers off of school, skipping class to do anything but homework. He hadn’t realized how closed off he had been to his old home until now, but now he had gone from being worried about his return to never wanting to leave. 

His parents seemed to be just as happy to have him back. His mom was making all his favorite foods for every meal and giving him portions to the point where he could swear his pants were getting tighter. His father insisted on hearing about every song Jisung produced or worked on, which was a little overwhelming but Jisung would never pass on sharing his pride and joy with someone else. 

With these bright sides though, there was something…slightly more annoying. They seemed intent on making Jisung’s reunion with Minho a Big Deal. 

“So…have you stopped by the coffee shop these last couple days?” Jisung’s mother asked as she stood at the sink washing vegetables for dinner. Jisung could feel his cheeks turn fifty shades of red and he shook his head. 

“No. Besides, why does it matter, huh? Something you want to tell me, eomma?” 

Jisung had figured out by now that his parents set him up to meet Minho. It didn’t take much inference to come to that conclusion. He was grateful but at the same time he couldn’t help but shake his head at their scheming. 

“No, nothing,” she said with a shrug, humming as she set the vegetables in a bowl. “I’m just glad that you two are talking again. You both always got along so well.” 

“I always liked him,” his father piped up as he entered the dining room. “A really good kid, that one. You should invite him over sometime! Christmas dinner?” Jisung resisted the urge to groan. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes to rub them. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Minho over for Christmas dinner. It just felt a bit too soon for that. And it might insinuate that he wanted more with Minho–which might not be a lie at this point. 

“I don’t think he’d want to do that. We’re just getting back to knowing each other.” He sighed, slumping down in his seat. 

“Well tell him he’s invited!” his mother said with a sharp nod of her head. “He can say no if he wants, but the offer is there!” 

“Humor you eomma, Jisung-ah,” his dad said. 

Jisung did groan this time, long and heavy; like a petulant child. “I’ll ask. Don’t worry.” 

That seemed to satisfy them for the time being and they quickly changed the subject to something else. Jisung didn’t know what–he was once again too lost in his thoughts. Thoughts about Minho, who was taking up too much of his mind. He shouldn’t be like this, not with his ex. But he couldn’t help it. His parents were right. They did work well. Chopsticks, their friends used to call them. 

Perhaps now, things could be different. Perhaps now, the distance wouldn’t be so hard to bridge. 

Later that day, it was Jisung who messaged Minho, asking when he was free to hang out next. They had been texting more since the day Minho brought him skating and through some of those texting conversations, Jisung had learned more about what Minho had been up to during the past few years. To his surprise, he discovered that Minho had not had a boyfriend since they had broken up. He learned that he had a situationship and a few miscellaneous no-strings-attached relationships that did not last long, but nothing substantial. The sicker part of Jisung’s brain twisted with excitement at this news. It made him believe that there was a chance. He wasn’t even sure when he had started wanting Minho back, but somehow he felt like he had since the moment he laid eyes on him in the coffee shop his first full day back home. 

Minho responded a half an hour later, waking Jisung up from the light sleep he had fallen into while lying on his bed watching anime. He rubbed his groggy eyes and blinked rapidly at his screen as his eyes adjusted to the bright light. 

Minho-hyungie

6:34pm You wanna come over tomorrow night? I’d invite you over tonight but I’m totally unprepared for guests lmao 

Jisung 

6:35pm Waaaa you wanna prepare for mee? \(๑•́o•̀๑)/

Minho-hyungie

6:35pm I’m just a great host 

Jisung 

6:37pm Yeah yeah But tomorrow does work good for me *gasp* we should make Christmas cookies! 

Minho-hyungie

6:40pm And have you burn my house down? No way 

Jisung pouted, rolling over on his bed. He had gotten much better at cooking since he and Minho were last together. Minho’s worry wasn’t entirely unfounded since the last time Jisung tried to cook anything he did end up lighting it on fire, but he had grown. He was twenty-four and he would be damned if he couldn’t make some Christmas cookies. 

Jisung 

6:42pm That’s so mean hyung :c I’m a lot better at cooking now yk And you can always bake the cookies while I decorate :3

Minho-hyungie

6:43pm Mhm sure I’ll pick up the ingredients tonight 

Jisung 

6:43pm Yayy! You’re the best 

Setting his phone down, Jisung stared up at the ceiling. His heart was beating too fast and his cheeks were warm, which was becoming a common side effect of talking to Minho or being in his presence. He was royally fucked. 

It only got worse as he got ready to go over to Minho’s house the next evening. He was aware they weren’t doing anything particularly special, but he could still feel the budding anxiety blooming in his stomach. When he and Minho were last together, Minho was still living with his parents. He was on his way towards getting an apartment of his own, but he hadn’t gotten everything settled with that yet. Now Minho was an established adult–he had his own place, his own home. There would be little bits and pieces of Minho’s personality spread throughout the entire place–he would get to meet Minho’s cats that he had heard so much about since returning to Korea. Jisung would be in Minho’s most personal space, he would see the most vulnerable parts of him. And they would be wholly, entirely alone. Together. 

He knew he was making a bigger deal of it than he needed to. But to him, it felt like something big. And it twisted his stomach and pulled his ribs together until the ends were rubbing against each other, making his chest too tight for him to breathe. 

But then Minho texted him a picture of his cat Soonie next to a ball of cookie dough with a text that said, “He keeps trying to steal our cookies. You better hurry up,” and suddenly Jisung didn’t feel as worried. Even if he and Minho were still in the process of getting to know each other again, it was still Minho. And as much as they didn’t know each other, they knew each other more than anyone else could ever understand. 

Everything would be fine. 

He arrived at Minho’s house five minutes before the clock hit 7pm. They had agreed to hang out “around that time,” so Jisung counted it as perfectly on time, if not a little early. Minho’s house was smaller than his family’s home and towards the outskirts of town. There were a few other houses lining the street around it and he had a small yard and what looked like it would be a flower garden during the summer. He had a doorbell so Jisung didn’t bother knocking, opting to ring it in hopes that it worked. 

Minho’s muffled voice responded from behind the door followed by the quiet padding of feet on the floor. Moments later, the door opened and there was Minho, smiling softly. His hair was slightly mussed and he was wearing an apron that had flour and a few sauce stains here and there and his cheeks were slightly flushed. Jisung swallowed thickly. Royally fucked. “Hi, Jisung-ah,” he greeted. “Come in. Are you hungry? I made some dinner ‘cause I didn’t know if you would’ve eaten but I probably should’ve asked—” 

“That’s perfect,” Jisung replied, the smile that had already been on his face the moment Minho opened the door splitting into a wide grin. “I actually haven’t eaten so I could definitely eat now.” 

He followed Minho inside and was immediately hit with just how Minho his house was. It was small, but cozy. Countless plants were spread throughout the living room and the kitchen, sitting on the edges of counters and tables. His furniture and decor was all warm toned with dark green and yellow throw pillows on his couch and a lounge chair he had in the door. There was a yellow checkered tablecloth on the dining room table and a pair of salt and pepper shakers shaped like cats in the middle. The sight alone made Jisung’s heart swell. 

After he was finished surveying the house, he finally noticed the delicious smell wafting from the kitchen. His stomach growled and his mouth watered, hit with the different spices in the air from whatever Minho had been cooking. “Oh my gosh I’m like, actually so excited to eat,” he said with a laugh. Minho turned and looked at him fondly. 

“Yeah? Well, good. I made a good amount,” Minho said, going to get the food off the counter. “Ah–it’s japchae. Is that okay?” 

Jisung’s eyes lit up. “Oh that’s perfect. Seriously. What planet are you from, hyung? You’ve always been so good at cooking.” 

Minho laughed and shrugged as he got the food for them. “Mars, but I didn’t learn to cook there.” 

Jisung shook his head, huffing out a laugh. “You’re so weird.” 

“You like weird though, right?” Minho asked with an attempted wink. Jisung’s stomach did somersaults. There was a time, so long ago, where he and Minho were sitting outside one summer night. Minho was having a hard time with his parents and some of his friends and had lamented at that moment that he was, “just too weird for people.” Jisung had turned to him, cupped his face in his hands and said, “You are never too weird, hyung. Not for me. And besides. I like weird.” 

To think that Minho still remembered that. Jisung ached. And worse, he wanted. 

Minho cleared his throat after Jisung had been silent for too long. “Sorry, that was…too much.” 

“No,” Jisung quickly reassured him. “You’re right. I do.” He smiled and Minho’s eyes went wide for a second before he smiled back. 

It was that moment that there was the sound of paws running across the floor and something furry was rubbing against Jisung’s legs. He looked down and let out a gasp at the sight of Minho’s cat, Soonie, curling himself around his ankles. Then, in less than a second, another ball of fur joined Soonie, butting its head against Jisung’s legs while emitting a loud purr. “Oh my gosh. Soonie and Doongie, right?” Jisung asked, kneeling down to pet the two cats on the head. “Hi guys! Oh aren’t you just the cutest? Oh my, so soft!” he cooed, scratching behind Doongie’s ears. 

“Yep, that’s them. Dori’s probably hiding somewhere, but I’m sure he’ll come out eventually.” 

Jisung glanced up as he petted the two cats and found Minho smiling down at him. He quickly looked away, but the sight made his cheeks warm. 

“As much as I would like for you to keep getting to know my babies, we should probably eat. The food’s gonna get cold,” Minho said, which prompted Jisung to pout. He gave both Soonie and Doongie a final pat on the head and let out a dramatic sigh. 

“I’m sorry, kitties, but your owner insists I leave you.” Doongie meowed and Jisung’s frown deepened. “I know, right?” He shook his head playfully as he stood up. Minho watched him with an amused glint in his eye as he went to sit down at the table. “Oh wow this looks good,” he exclaimed as soon as he laid eyes on the food in front of him, completely forgetting about his cat dilemma. He was salivating just looking at the food. 

Minho chuckled as he joined him sitting down and picked up his chopsticks. “Well I hope it tastes as good as it looks. Please, eat.” 

Jisung was never one to not listen when told to eat, so he did. And immediately he felt himself fall again for Minho entirely, the first bite of noodles bursting with so much flavor he nearly moaned. “Hyung, what the fuck,” he groaned. He scooped up another bite with his chopsticks and slurped the noodles into his mouth. “This is amazing. You’re amazing.” He almost tacked on an “I love you,” but refrained. 

“It’s not anything that special,” Minho said with a shrug. Jisung wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. 

“It is though! And you will accept the compliment.” 

Minho rolled his eyes and laughed. “Alright, I will, thank you.” 

Satisfied, Jisung went back to eating with more vigor than he even ate the meals his mother prepared. He would have to tell her that she had competition.

- 

Jisung looked ridiculously adorable, all messy from decorating cookies. There was a smear of blue icing on the corner of his mouth and flour on the tip of his nose. He was wearing one of Minho’s aprons because he didn’t want to get any of the icing on his outfit. Minho didn’t know what to do with the fact that he desperately wanted to kiss him. 

Making it through dinner without grabbing Jisung by the collar of his shirt and pulling him for a kiss was one of the most difficult things Minho had done in a long time. When Jisung took a bite and his eyes lit up and he smiled, when he groaned as the flavors hit his tongue, when he shook his hands in little fists, Minho’s heart ached. He had so many regrets and he wasn’t sure he could come back from them. He wanted Jisung back. He wanted his best friend back, he wanted the person he had once believed to be his soulmate back. 

Decorating cookies with Jisung made the thoughts in Minho’s head quiet down, at least a little bit. It made Minho so happy he couldn’t think negatively. Even if the ache in his heart didn’t subside, at least Jisung was here. And he was so happy. 

“Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree,” played in the background as Minho filled a Christmas tree-shaped cookie in with green icing. Jisung hummed softly to the tune and swayed his hips every now and then as he decorated his own snowman cookie. Minho’s eyes were drawn to the motion every few moments and he quickly averted his gaze whenever he realized what he was doing. Did he even know how irresistible he was? Or was Minho just insane? 

“Aww, I messed up his eyes,” Jisung whined, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. He held up his snowman cookie, showing Minho the smeared black where the eyes were supposed to be. If it weren’t for the white all over the cookie and the shape it probably wouldn’t even look like a snowman with how wonky the features were, but to Minho, it was the best snowman in the entire world. 

“That’s okay, I think it looks just fine,” Minho reassured him with a slight smile. 

Jisung huffed a little, shaking his head. “All your cookies look perfect. It’s so annoying.” 

Minho couldn’t help but laugh at that, his cheeks hurting slightly from how much he had been smiling the whole evening. “And yours are good too, Sung. Besides, we’re just gonna eat them anyway so how they look doesn’t matter.” 

“That’s just a nice way of saying mine look fucked up.” 

“It is not!” Minho denied, even if Jisung’s snowman looked more like a demented Santa Claus. He tried. That’s what mattered. 

“Sure,” Jisung mumbled. He went back to decorating his cookies, a sulk plastered on his face. A chuckle escaped Minho’s lips and he rolled his eyes. 

They continued decorating cookies like that, mostly in silence. Occasionally Jisung would pipe up to say something random or he would sing along to the Christmas song that was playing. It was pleasant. Minho felt more comfortable than he had in a long while and for the first time in years, his chest swelled with a true Christmas feeling. His happiness swelled up and overflowed enough to get caught in his throat, giddiness like a child on Christmas morning spreading through even his limbs. 

Minho saved most of his cookies so that he could have a nice spread once he was done. Jisung periodically ate the cookies he made, and when they were finished, Minho had about a dozen cookies left while Jisung had a solid six and was complaining about his stomach hurting. 

“If you hadn’t eaten so many your stomach wouldn’t be hurting,” he scolded. 

“You can’t blame me when they’re cookies you made,” Jisung retorted, indignant. He gingerly rubbed over the top of his stomach and sighed. “It’s not my fault.” He lifted his hand to his face and licked bits of crumb and icing off his fingertips. Minho swallowed thickly. 

“Mhm, blame me.” 

He picked up one of his cookies and held it between his teeth as he gathered the rest onto a plate. “Wanna wastch a Chwrifmash movie?” he asked, words garbled by the cookie in his mouth. Jisung side-eyed him, the corners of his mouth turning downwards. 

“You couldn’t have asked before sticking that in your mouth?” Minho shrugged, finally biting off the piece. Damn, they were good. “But yes, I do. Can we have snacks too?” 

“You were just complaining about your stomach hurting,” Minho said, but at the same time went to his cabinets to see what he had. Jisung didn’t seem phased by his comment, instead going to his living room to make himself comfortable on the couch. The sight of him so at ease did something to Minho’s poor heart and he wet his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. 

 He joined Jisung on the couch a few minutes later with two bottles of soju and an assortment of movie snacks in hand. He sat down with enough space between him and Jisung for another person. He knew they had gotten closer recently, but he wanted to make sure Jisung was comfortable. If they were going to be closer, Minho needed Jisung to make the first move. 

“What movie d’ya wanna watch?” he asked, leaning back against the couch cushions as he opened the bottle of soju. Peach flavored. He remembered Jisung saying he liked that in the past and hoped he still did. The first sip settled in his stomach with a pleasant warmth. Maybe a bit of alcohol would stop his thoughts. 

“Any is good. Elf, maybe?” Jisung asked. Minho snickered. He should have expected that. 

“Elf it is then.” He turned on the movie and Jisung settled back the same way he did, opening his soju with a quiet “thank you.” 

Ten minutes into the movie, Jisung scooted closer to Minho on the couch. He stiffened when he noticed and that made Jisung frown. “Is this okay?” he asked, sounding so small and vulnerable in a way that Minho never wanted to hear. 

“Yeah, it’s perfectly fine,” he told him with a gentle nod. He realized then that with as much as he wanted to be close to Jisung, Jisung might actually want the same thing. So instead of being a coward, he moved closer to Jisung and closed the gap between them so that they were touching from their shoulders down to their thighs. The contact made Minho’s skin tingle and his heart rabbited in his chest, yet somehow he wasn’t nervous. Maybe it was the sips of soju he’d had settling in his stomach sending alcohol through his veins–liquid courage–but he felt confident. Before he could overthink it, he wrapped his arm around Jisung’s shoulders, his fingertips brushing against his shoulder. He may have imagined it but for a second he thought he heard Jisung’s breath hitch at the contact. 

“Is this okay?” it was his turn to ask. Jisung nodded quickly, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “You sure? I know we…” We’re not the same anymore. We’re exes. We broke up. We didn’t talk for years. 

“It is,” Jisung said, his voice the texture of cotton candy. The weight was removed from Minho’s chest. 

“Okay, good.” He pulled Jisung more into his side and caressed his shoulder with the tips of his fingers. He could hear Jisung’s soft breaths and could smell his shampoo like this–strawberry, he decided–and it was not good for his sanity. He was so warm against his body, so close. He had been worried about Jisung, but perhaps he should be worried about himself. 

They only made it five more minutes and another sip of soju into the movie before Minho’s feelings were exploding out of his chest, too much to contain. “Jisung…I…” He swallowed thickly and fiddled with Jisung’s shirt sleeve. He wasn’t looking at Jisung but he could feel his gaze on him. He took a deep breath. “I didn’t–I didn’t want to break up with you, back then. I thought–I thought it was the best thing for us but I didn’t want it. Fuck, I–I wanted you to say no.” His voice shook a little. 

“Hyung…” Jisung muttered, eyes wide as he stared at Minho. 

Minho wet his lips and turned his head, making eye contact with him. “I just…I need you to know. That I regretted it. There wasn’t a day I didn’t want you back.” 

“Hyung,” Jisung said again, his voice sounding a little more desperate. “Why–where is this coming from?” 

“I—” Minho wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but he wasn’t drunk. Sure, it was affecting him a little bit, easing his nerves, giving him the courage to say this. But it wasn’t why he was saying it. “Since the day you walked into my coffee shop last week, or whenever it was. I’ve been thinking about everything. And it just made me realize how much I missed you. I think I could–no, I am falling for you again, already. I just can’t keep it in, especially since you’ll be going to America again and I–” 

“Minho-yah, hey. Minho, it’s okay,” Jisung said, reaching up to cup Minho’s cheeks. Only when he brushed his thumb over the soft flesh there did he realize that he had started crying. What the fuck. 

“Sorry,” Minho choked. “I’m sorry, the last thing you probably wanted to come back to was your ex I mean we had to stop talking for a reason—” 

Minho was shut up the moment he felt Jisung’s plush lips press against his own in a warm, chaste kiss. There was little finesse, no tongue, no urgency, but in that moment it was everything. A calming buzz settled over Minho’s body and mind, something settling in his chest where it had been left hollow. Jisung tasted like peach soju and sugar from the cookies they had made together, and like something so familiar even six years later and so distinctly Jisung that it hit him with a wave of nostalgia. 

When Jisung pulled away, his heartbeat was roaring in his ears yet he felt calm. He felt sated, but he wanted more. That was the thing. When they broke up he said he was okay being his friend, but he continued wanting more. When Jisung came back, he told himself he wanted to be friends with him again, and here he was, wanting more. With Jisung, he was insatiable. Greedy. There was never enough when it came to Jisung. 

Jisung looked at him, seemingly waiting for a response to the kiss. He didn’t say anything else, rather, angled his body so he could face him better and pulled him into another kiss. This time he slotted their lips together with purpose, tilting his head so he could take all of Jisung in. He cupped Jisung’s cheek with one hand and the other he rested on Jisung’s waist. Oh his waist. It had always been one of Minho’s favorite parts of him and it turned out it was now, too. 

He gave the curve of Jisung’s waist a squeeze which prompted a small gasp from him. Minho parted his lips as Jisung gasped, licking across his bottom lip, a mere taste of all that he wanted. When Jisung seemed to reciprocate his desire, he licked into his mouth, swallowing down the little noises Jisung made as he kissed him deeper. He was a good kisser, much better than when they had been together as inexperienced teenagers. He tried not to think about all the people he must have kissed since then and tried to focus on the fact that regardless of any of that, Jisung was here. 

Jisung shifted and his hands slid from Minho’s cheeks to tangle in his hair and Minho groaned into his mouth. He wrapped his arm around Jisung’s waist and tugged him forward a little; Jisung seemed to get the memo because in the next moment he was moving to sit in Minho’s lap, his thighs straddling his hips. Minho tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and Jisung outright moaned, the sound pooling as arousal in his belly. 

“Min– Minho,” Jisung gasped against his mouth after Minho released his bottom lip. His hands fell from Minho’s hair to his shoulders and he gave a small roll of his hips–a barely-there movement, but Minho felt it. 

“ Mmh, Sung-ah, fuck,” he breathed. He felt dizzy, his head swimming like he was drunk. He wasn’t, but he might as well have downed the entire bottle of soju in one go. He hadn’t felt desperation like this in a long time. But he needed Jisung, needed him in ways he couldn’t begin to describe. 

Jisung released breathy whines into Minho’s mouth, their lips gliding together, slick and wet. Messy, but so good. Jisung’s breath came out in pants between kisses, a string of spit connecting them. It was driving Minho insane. And when he rolled his hips again Minho gasped at the friction against his cock, which was already hard in his sweatpants. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted—

But—

“Ah, Jisung, Sungie, wait,” he said when he got a moment to breathe from how incessantly Jisung was kissing him. Jisung froze, his movements stopping all together. 

“What is it?” he asked, eyes wide with worry, anxiety. 

Minho wet his lips, the taste of Jisung still lingering on them. “I don’t–I don’t really have anything for uh…uhm.” He gestured vaguely with his hand and cleared his throat. “And I think…I think we should wait. Maybe a little.” Getting those words out felt like tearing at his chest but with their history they couldn’t just rush into things. That would only end up in both of them getting hurt and that was the last thing Minho wanted. He wanted to do things right. 

Jisung frowned and looked a little disappointed, but he nodded. “You’re probably right,” he agreed softly. 

Minho swallowed. “I do want you,” he said, hoping to reassure any thoughts that might be going through Jisung’s head. “But I also want to make sure that you know I want you for more than just sex. And I don’t want us…I don’t want you to do something you might regret especially since you’ll be leaving and we have… history.” 

“I wouldn’t regret it though,” Jisung said assuredly. “I know that already.” He slid off of Minho’s lap but still stayed glued to his side. “And the same things you said, hyung. I didn’t want us to end either. And I never forgot about you. Even if I was an asshole and stopped messaging. That was never–it was never because I wanted to forget you. Fuck, Minho, I don’t think I could regret anything with you except for leaving you.” 

Minho’s eyes stung and he looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly a couple times. “That’s really…wow.” 

“We were stupid kids, hyung,” Jisung said, rubbing Minho’s shoulder. The action caused Minho’s heart to skip a beat. “I was too, especially. Neither of us knew what we were doing in life, I was totally immature.”

“Right person, wrong time,” Minho said with a wry laugh. Jisung still seemed like the right person, but would there ever be a right time? He was going back. Minho didn’t even want to think about it. 

“Yeah…” Jisung trailed off, looking down for a moment. “I know…things are kind of uncertain right now. But I want you to know that spending time with you since I got back has been the happiest I’ve been in a while.” 

Minho’s heart was going to beat out of his chest, he knew it. “That’s just because I feed you so much sugar.” 

“It is not!” Jisung gasped, shoving his shoulder. “You do make an amazing candy cane mocha, and amazing cheesecake, and amazing cookies–but that’s not the point!” 

Minho couldn’t help laughing, throwing his head back. “Ah, I know. I’m just teasing. I’m glad. Really. I’ve been happy too.” Jisung’s smile was worth any tension Minho had felt, any anxieties he had, any worries. He would do anything to see Jisung smile over and over again. 

A moment of quiet passed over them where Jisung just leaned against Minho. Then Minho took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Let’s think for a few days. I think I already know where I stand but I want to be sure. And I just want to keep enjoying my time with you.” What I have left until you leave. “And I want—” His cheeks warmed and he looked off to the side. “If we do anything, I want to make it special. I don’t get to have you for long, I want to make everything count.” 

Jisung stared at him for a moment before he grinned widely. He giggled and bounced in his seat. “ Hyung! That is so romantic and so cheesy. You’re so cute what the fuck.” He giggled again and Minho tongued his cheek. 

“I am not cute.” 

“You’re adorable. I lo–I love how much of a hopeless romantic you are.” 

Minho could deny Jisung’s accusations all he wanted but there was no way he could deny the way his heartbeat sped up just a little. “I just…I care about you, Sung-ah,” he said, his tone turning serious. “I know you haven’t been back for long, but I never stopped caring about you. So I want to show that.” Even if I only get to have you for one night. Even if that’s all I’ll ever get. 

“Hyung,” Jisung mumbled, eyes going a little wide. “I–that really means a lot. I care about you too. I’m still so sorry I just left like that. I won’t do it again. I promise.” 

Maybe Minho was a fool, but he chose to believe him. He reached up to brush a strand of hair behind Jisung’s ear. “I know. I wouldn’t let you anyway,” he joked, but inside he felt it was the truth. He couldn’t let him go again. He wouldn’t. 

“You better not,” Jisung said with a giggle. “Now let's pay attention to the movie. We missed Buddy getting attacked by the raccoon.” 

“Shit,” Minho muttered, laughing softly. “You’re right. Guess I’ll have to skip back.” 

The smile Jisung gave him made his heart ache. But it was a different ache this time. It was mixed with a little hope. 

“Yeah, you better.” 

-

For the next few days leading up to Christmas, Jisung thought a lot. He went over every memory he had with Minho in his head, mulled over his feelings for hours. His parents even asked him what was wrong with how silent he had been at the dinner table since he was usually full of endless conversation. He explained that he was alright but simply had something important on his mind. He was grateful to them for not prying too much. This was something he needed to figure out on his own. 

While he went over his thoughts, he tried to spend as much time with Minho as he could. That really only allowed for two coffee shop visits since he was busy with his own family and Minho was getting more visitors at the shop with it nearing Christmas. Couples were coming in every few minutes, holding hands, giggling, ordering matching drinks and desserts–Minho’s candy cane mocha was the most popular. Jisung had to agree with the popular choice. If he wasn’t coming for Minho there was a large chance he would come anyway to get it again. But maybe that was his bias. 

On his second visit since their night together, which happened to be the day before Christmas Eve, Jisung met Felix. He had heard about him from Minho and knew he helped out with the coffee shop on its busiest days but he hadn’t met him once since he had started coming there. He had not been expecting to hit it off with him so quickly. He was shocked to find out that they were born so close together, practically the same age. Felix could only be described as sunshine incarnate, with a smile that could blind anyone that looked at it for too long, and a personality that hooked anyone to him the moment they started talking to him. He spent more time talking to Felix then than he did Minho and there were more than a few times where he felt Minho’s gaze on them. Whenever Jisung looked over he would quickly look away, lips turned down in a frown. It made Jisung smile to himself. Minho was jealous. 

As much as Jisung enjoyed his jealousy, it was entirely unfounded. For some reason, Jisung meeting Felix only solidified his feelings. Meeting his friend somehow made him feel one step closer to the closeness they had once shared. And knowing he was friends with such an angel made him trust Minho more. 

That evening, while lying on his bed, he made his decision. He’d practically made it already, but he wanted to think about it like Minho wanted. He wanted Minho. That much he knew. There was a lot he had to figure out since he would be traveling back to the United States after the New Year, but he was also selfish. He wanted Minho even if the future was uncertain. He didn’t want to be cautious anymore. 

Jisung picked up his phone and his thumb hovered over Minho’s contact before he pressed “call.” It only rang a few times before there was a shuffled sound and Minho’s voice came over the speaker. 

“Hey, Hannie. What’s up?” 

Jisung licked his lips and sat up a bit straighter so he could focus. “Hi, hyung,” he greeted. “I’ve been thinking. About our conversation.” 

“Yeah?” Minho breathed. Jisung felt like he could hear his interest over the phone. 

“Yeah,” he reiterated. “I really do want you, hyung.” It made him blush to say it out loud again, his cheeks heating up from the simple admission. “I know it’s complicated and there’s a lot I have to figure out but you’re so…I wanna be yours again, hyung. Will you make me yours?” He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath as he waited for Minho’s response. He heard the other take in a sharp breath. 

“Yes. Yes, I’ll make you mine. I don’t care about anything else. I just want to have you one time, Sungie.” 

Jisung didn’t say how much he didn’t want it to be one time. This wouldn’t be their first time together, but somehow this felt even bigger than the first time they shared together. Jisung could still remember that moment. How they were both so young and inexperienced but that didn’t matter because it was them and they wanted each other even if they were still figuring out how things worked. Now they were reuniting with more experience, both of them more mature. Both of them with so much to figure out but with the undeniable pull towards each other. Jisung didn’t know how he had gone so long without talking to Minho. 

“You can have me, hyung,” he said, so soft he was worried Minho hadn’t picked it up, but the small hum he heard on the other side told him he had. 

“What are you doing on Christmas Eve?” Minho asked. 

Jisung didn’t even have to think. “I’m completely free. I’m not doing anything with my family until Christmas. And either way, I’m sure they would understand.” His parents had been nothing but encouraging of the renewal of his relationship with Minho. 

“Okay, good. Come over for dinner, then? I’ll make it really nice, just for you, Sung-ah.” 

A lump formed in Jisung’s throat and he nodded even though Minho couldn’t see. “That sounds perfect. Absolutely perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow then?” 

“Mm. Same time as last time.”

“Alright, hyung. I’ll see you then!” 

“See you then. I’ll let you go now, ‘kay? Gotta go give the demons water.” Jisung found himself nodding again, even though Minho couldn’t see. “Goodnight, Hannie.” 

“Okay, goodnight, Minho-hyung,” he said, unable to hold back his smile. The line cut off and he let out a sigh as he put his phone down. He had a date with Minho. A Christmas date no less. 

He was so fucked. 

Jisung had done his makeup, styled his hair, and done every possible thing under the sun to make himself the prettiest for Minho that he possibly could. He figured Minho liked him as he was, but a little extra effort didn’t hurt. Especially since he had a strong feeling of where the night was going to go after dinner. His eyes had a light golden shimmer on the lids and there was mascara on his lashes, his lips were a rosy pink tinted from a lip stain and gloss, and had added a hint of blush on his cheeks. He didn’t need much since he would most likely be blushing the entire evening anyway.

Minho’s smile when he invited him in was blinding and it made butterflies explode in Jisung’s stomach. He could tell that despite Minho’s excitement, he was still a little nervous which quelled some of Jisung’s nerves. 

“You look pretty, Hannie,” he said softly as he took in Jisung’s appearance. If it was possible for an entire body to blush, Jisung’s did just that. 

“Thank you, hyung-ah,” he replied, smiling bashfully to himself. Minho still thinks I look pretty. 

The house smelled just as good as last time and his stomach growled the moment he stepped inside. There was a bigger spread than before and the yellow checkered tablecloth had been replaced by a red tablecloth with two lit candles in the middle. The lights were dimmed and the flames of the candles cast a warm glow over the kitchen that made it the perfect combination of cozy and romantic. And when Jisung glanced into the living room he saw that Minho had even set up a Christmas tree. It was fake and some areas were more sparsely decorated than others, but it was the most beautiful tree he had ever seen. His eyes stung. 

“I hope this isn’t too much. Or too little–I wanted it to be nice,” Minho rushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I also–I made a cheesecake. Since I know you like that.” 

“This is perfect, ” Jisung exclaimed. He felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest. “And you made me cheesecake? You’re amazing. I could kiss you.” 

Minho blinked a few times and then said, his voice a little softer, “You could.” 

Jisung’s eyes went wide but then he smiled, stepping into Minho’s space so he could hold him closer. He tilted his chin up and pressed his lips to Minho’s, eyelids fluttering shut. The kiss was a lot less passionate than the last one they had shared, but not as chaste as the first kiss Jisung had given him. It was just deep enough, the quick swipe of tongue against parted lips a promise of what was to come. 

“You taste so good, Sungie,” Minho murmured as he pulled away and Jisung’s cheeks turned a fiery red. 

“Goodness, shut up,” he whined, shoving him away playfully. “I won’t kiss you again if you’re gonna be embarrassing.” Minho smirked, satisfied with himself. They both knew Jisung was lying. He would kiss Minho again, and again, and again. 

They got to dinner after that, Minho being the gentleman he was and filling Jisung’s plate for him. There was a thick layer of tension that hung in the air as they ate and it made Jisung’s skin tingle and his stomach twist in delight. It was hard to focus on conversation, but he did his best to talk since it was Minho. And he could talk to Minho endlessly. He explained his Christmas plans and learned that Minho wouldn’t be seeing his parents for Christmas. As much as that saddened him, he wasn’t surprised. Minho had always had a rocky relationship with his parents; he was just sad they had never made any effort to repair their relationship with him. He invited him over to his house with his family but he learned that he already had plans to spend time with Felix and his family who were visiting from Australia. Rather than making Jisung jealous, he only felt happy. 

Dinner was filling and delicious and the cheesecake Minho had made was even better than the ones he made for his coffee shop. It practically melted on his tongue and Jisung couldn’t hold back the moan as the taste. “This is literally the best thing I have ever tasted. You have to make these like, every day now. Like seriously, send me this, hyung. I don’t know what I’ll ever do now that I’ve tasted this.” 

Minho blushed and the sight was so pretty Jisung nearly fainted. “I guess I’ll have to now, if you like it so much,” he said. Then, something in the air seemed to shift and Minho’s gaze shifted. He reached across the table and for a moment Jisung was confused at what he was doing, but then he cupped his jaw and swiped his thumb across his bottom lip. “You always eat desserts so messy.” 

Jisung’s cheeks heated up and his stomach swooped. He was going to whine, complain, but Minho apparently wasn’t done. His thumb still remained on Jisung’s lip and he gingerly pulled it down so his mouth opened just enough for him to slip his thumb inside. “Here,” he said. There was a gravelliness to his voice that hadn’t been there before. “Don’t want you to waste any.” 

Stunned, Jisung could only blink at him. And then he did the most logical thing–he swirled his tongue around Minho’s thumb, licking off the crumb of cheesecake he had swiped up. That seemed to satisfy Minho and his lips quirked up as he popped his thumb out of Jisung’s mouth. 

“Good boy. ” 

Jisung gasped and a jolt of arousal zipped through his stomach. He suddenly felt dizzy and all too aware at the same time. Minho ran his thumb along Jisung’s bottom lip, coating it in his own spit, before he pulled away. His lip and jaw tingled where Minho’s touch had been and his entire body felt like it was on fire. Fuck. 

“Finish up, Jisung.” Minho’s eyes were half lidded, sharp and catlike, and arousal pooled in Jisung’s stomach and prickled at his skin like needles. 

He nodded and took another bite of his cheesecake because even though his mind was elsewhere now, there was no way he would let it go to waste. And the sooner he finished, the sooner he could get to the real dessert of the night. 

Minho’s eyes were fixed on him the entire time he made his way through the dessert. He was afraid to look up, but when he did he found that Minho’s eyes never left him, even when they made eye contact. Occasionally Jisung noticed his gaze shifting from his face to his mouth–when he licked some of the cream off his lips the rhythm of Minho’s breathing changed, and even that sound was enough to make heat boil in the pit of Jisung’s stomach. 

Jisung licked the fork clean after the last bite and set it down on the plate. “Done, hyung,” he announced, the anticipation for what was to come sending tingles up and down his spine. 

“Did you like it?” Minho asked as he got up from his chair. Jisung followed, standing on shaky legs. Minho was in his space with two strides and he placed his hand on the curve of Jisung’s waist. His thumb rubbed up and down, melting Jisung’s brain into sugary syrup. 

“Yeah, it was amazing,” he mumbled, swallowing thickly. “I loved it.” 

“Mind if I see for myself?” Jisung knew what he was asking immediately–Minho already had his own slice, but that didn’t matter. 

“Please,” he whispered, heart beating wildly in his chest. 

The grip on his waist tightened and then Minho was kissing him. He coaxed his mouth open with his tongue and pulled him close until their bodies were flush together. He eased a thigh between Jisung’s legs and he let out a gasp into his mouth at the friction. He could feel Minho smirking against his mouth as he used the hand on his waist to make Jisung grind down onto his thigh. 

At the same time, he used the hand that wasn’t holding Jisung’s waist to grab Jisung’s hair and tilt his head so that he could slot their mouths together better. The slick sounds of their lips and tongues sliding together made the arousal coiling in Jisung’s belly grow and he whimpered pathetically. His mind felt hazy already from just a little kissing, his cock already fully hard in his pants as he practically humped Minho’s thigh. It was embarrassing but that only made him more turned on. 

“Minho-hyung, ahhh,” Jisung moaned as Minho tilted his head back with a tug of his hair and began planting open-mouthed kisses on his neck. The kisses quickly changed to him sucking bruises on his neck. He nipped gentle at the skin and Jisung let out a little ah again. 

“You sound so pretty…fuck you’re so pretty for me, Hannie,” he mumbled against his skin. Each brush of his lips made Jisung shiver and his cock twitched in his underwear. 

“Please, Mm-Minho,” Jisung begged. His legs were beginning to shake–any second he was going to collapse to the floor in a pile of goo. 

“Let’s go to the bedroom, hm?” 

Jisung nodded quickly as Minho led him down the hall to his bedroom. He never let go of his waist, instead wrapping his arm around him to guide him. It made Jisung feel safe somehow–owned, like he belonged to Minho. And maybe that was what he had needed all along. Maybe that was why none of the relationships he’d had in America felt right. Because right was waiting for him in South Korea. 

Minho’s bedroom was much like the rest of his house. Various potted plants spread about, some hanging from the ceiling. There was a cat tree in the corner and fairy lights going around the room attached to the ceiling. His bed was big and the blankets were a soft mint color. He still has the same favorite color, Jisung mused to himself as Minho laid him down on the bed. 

“Is this still okay?” Minho asked as he hovered over him, his hands sliding underneath Jisung’s sweater. His breath hitched as he nodded eagerly. 

“Yes, it’s perfect. I want you. Please,” he answered. To prove his point he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, leaving himself half naked for Minho to admire. Minho inhaled as he took in Jisung’s body, the curve of his waist, his built chest, the muscles in his arms. Jisung knew he looked good, but Minho’s hungry gaze still made him feel shy. He moved to cross his arms over himself after Minho looked too long, but he grabbed Jisung’s wrists and pinned them down. 

“Don’t hide, jagi, ” Minho instructed. “You look so perfect. So goddamn pretty.” 

Jisung swallowed down a whimper at the praise and the pet name. Jagi. Minho called him jagi. He never imagined he would hear him say that again, but here he was, calling him that while he pinned his wrists to the bed. He was blushing all the way down to his chest already. “I won’t, but hyung. Stop staring. I want you.” 

“What do you want, hm?” Minho asked, tilting his head. 

Jisung whined, his cheeks burning. “I want–” He wet his lips. “I want you to fuck me. Please, fuck me, hyung.” 

Minho’s eyes fluttered shut as he groaned. “Fuck, such a good boy, asking so nicely. Yeah, of course I’ll fuck you.” 

He leaned down to capture Jisung’s lips in a hungry kiss again and his hands began roaming Jisung’s body, sliding down to undo his pants. Jisung’s senses were overwhelmed with Minho, the taste of his mouth, the smell of his cologne, the heat of his body. His hands left fire wherever they touched, sparks igniting, exploding into flames that enveloped Jisung’s entire body. 

He lifted his hips as Minho attempted to tug his pants and boxers down, having to pull away from the kiss for a moment to get him completely naked. They tossed them somewhere in the room, neither of them caring where they landed. 

With Jisung left completely naked and Minho still dressed, he felt incredibly vulnerable, but somehow safe at the same time. Minho’s eyes were trained on him again, drinking him in like he was some sort of magic elixir. Jisung had never felt so desired. Minho looked at him like he was ready to worship the ground he walked on. 

A bead of precum leaked from the tip of Jisung’s dick and he whined when Minho’s eyes flitted down to it. “Minho,” he pleaded. “You’re still fully clothed. I want to see you.” 

Minho chuckled and smirked down at him. “Yeah? What do you have to say?” 

“Please,” Jisung said. He wasn’t beyond begging. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to have Minho right now. “Please let me see you, hyung.” 

Minho smiled and pressed a quick peck to his lips. “Okay, okay. You can see me.” He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it in the same direction Jisung’s pants had gone, and Jisung nearly drooled at the sight. He had gotten much more built over the years but still maintained a layer of softness over it all. Broad shoulders and muscular arms faded into a soft tummy that Jisung wanted to sink his teeth into. A light trail of hair went down into the waistband of Minho’s pants. His mouth watered. 

“Off,” he huffed, sitting up so he could start tugging down Minho’s pants. 

“Impatient,” Minho laughed even as he helped him tug them down. 

“Don’t tease me.” Jisung pouted. “I’m so needy for you and you’re teasing me!” 

“Oh baby,” Minho cooed. “You’re just so cute when you’re all pouty.” He cupped Jisung’s jaw and brushed his thumb over his bottom lip. Jisung’s heart skipped a beat and blood rushed to his cheeks. “But don’t worry, I won’t make you wait long. Just a second, okay?” 

Jisung nodded dumbly, laying back down on the bed as Minho scooted back to get rid of the rest of his clothes. His cock hung heavy between his legs, so hard and red. And fuck he was huge. Jisung’s hole clenched around nothing at the thought of it inside of him, fucking into him, keeping him so full. 

Minho grinned at him and crawled forward to sit between Jisung’s thighs. “Spread these pretty thighs for me, jagi,” he said softly, tapping Jisung’s upper thigh. Jisung let out an embarrassed whine at how his cock twitched at the simple contact. 

Jisung took a deep, shuddering breath as he bent his knees and spread his legs apart to give Minho access. He tried to keep his nerves down but they continued to bubble up, making his heart race. Minho seemed to notice and rubbed a soothing hand up and down his thigh. “Shh, relax. I’m gonna take care of you, m’kay? And you can tell me if you don’t want to do anything, alright?” 

He nodded, wetting his lips. “I know. I trust you.” He relaxed a little more as Minho smiled, allowing himself to sink into the bed. Minho moved his thighs further apart and reached behind him to grab a bottle of lube sitting on the dresser and a condom that had been placed there. Jisung bit his lip as he uncapped the bottle and poured a generous amount onto his fingertips. The sight of Minho’s hands covered in the slick substance had Jisung’s stomach twisting, arousal building. 

He reached between his legs and pressed his middle finger to his entrance. “‘M gonna open you up now, okay?” Jisung exhaled shakily, not trusting himself to speak. Minho bit his lip as he pushed the tip of his first finger past his rim and his eyes winded when he was met with no resistance. “ Baby, what is this?” he asked, his voice taking on a gravelly edge it hadn’t had before. 

Jisung squirmed under him, body heating up like he was sitting in front of a fire. “I–uhm–I fingered myself before I came…so I would be ready,” he admitted shyly. He hadn’t planned to, he just got in the shower and it happened. He couldn’t stop thinking about Minho, his touches, the kisses they’d shared, getting fucked by him. 

“Shit, Sung, that’s so fucking hot,” Minho groaned, sliding his finger all the way in. “Did you think about me while you fingered yourself? Imagine it was my fingers? Or my cock?” 

He curled his finger and Jisung moaned, nodding his head. “Hah–y-yes,” he hiccuped. “Pictured it was you…wanted it to be you, hyung.” 

“Shit.” Minho looked almost as affected as Jisung felt and it only made his dick ache more. 

“I can take two now, I promise. I’m all prepped already, I need you, ple– ahhh, ” he moaned, cutting himself off. Minho inserted a second finger, filling him up easily. Jisung had gotten to three fingers before he came all over his hand. Minho’s hands had always been smaller than his, his fingers shorter, but there was something about the fact that it was Minho that made it feel so much better. 

“Sucking me in just perfect, fuck, ” Minho breathed as he pumped his fingers inside his hole. “Can’t wait to fuck you, shit. You’re so pretty.” 

“ Min ,” Jisung gasped, back arching as Minho spread his fingers. “Another, please, I’m ready.” 

Minho was too far gone himself to question and after pulling out his first two fingers he pushed inside him again with three. Jisung’s breath hitched and his toes curled. Minho pushed his fingers deeper, just shy of where he needed it, and it was so much, yet not enough. He needed more, more, more. 

Minho fucked him with his fingers for a little while longer, reducing him to a whiny, breathless mess with just his hands in no time. Even if he had smaller fingers, he knew how to use them and could angle them better than Jisung ever could when he fucked himself. His cock was leaking all over his stomach and his body was shaking when Minho first brushed the tip of his fingers against his prostate. His stomach tensed and his cock twitched against his stomach, telltale signs of his orgasm approaching. 

“Mmm, ‘m gonna–gonna come if you d-don’t stop. I’m ready, I promise, need you to fuck me now,” he begged, eyes stinging with tears of desperation. 

“You sure, Hannie?” he asked, tilting his head. 

“Yes, please. I can take it.” 

Minho let out a little sound, akin to a moan, and it went straight to Jisung’s cock, electricity shooting through his stomach. “O-okay, shit. You’re so perfect. How are you so perfect?” he mumbled as he pulled his fingers out. Jisung whimpered at the loss, body arching against the bed. 

“Don’t–dunno. It’s just for you,” he said, and he truly meant it. Having Minho back, having him like this, felt so good, there was no way he could have anyone else. 

“All for me, hm?” His gaze softened for a moment before they narrowed again as he hiked Jisung’s legs up so he could fold his hips back. “You’ll be good for me and take it then, hm?” he asked as he rolled a condom onto his cock with his free hand. 

Jisung nodded vigorously, eyes wide as he watched Minho adjust him like a doll, with one hand no less. “Yes, yes, please, just fuck me, fuck me jagi,” he begged, the pet name slipping out easy on his tongue. Minho’s eyes went wide for a second and he blinked, but seconds later his expression was back to normal. 

“Gonna take such good care of you Sungie. My Sungie,” he muttered. Jisung moaned as the tip of Minho’s cock pushed inside of him. It was barely anything but already he felt so full. Minho was going to split him in half. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he whimpered, ass clenching around Minho’s length. Minho hissed through his teeth and squeezed the flesh of Jisung’s soft thighs. It hurt a bit, and they were probably going to bruise. Jisung hoped he would be bruised for weeks. 

“Shit, Sung, you’re so fucking tight. Gotta relax for me, m’kay baby?” 

Jisung tried but he was too overwhelmed. Already the sensation of Minho’s cock filling him up was too much, too much—

“Kiss me,” he breathed, inhaling sharply as Minho pushed in a little deeper. 

Minho didn’t respond, opting to instead maneuver between Jisung’s thighs so he could cage him in with his arms. And then his lips were on him, kissing him incessantly as he pushed his cock deeper, deeper. Jisung moaned into his mouth and Minho swallowed his sounds down like a shot. Their breaths mingled together and Jisung was at the point where he couldn’t determine whether the soft moans and whines he was hearing were from his own mouth or Minho’s. And before he knew it, Minho was fully seated inside of him, his hips pressed first against his ass. 

“Oh my–fuck, you feel so good around me Jisung. Hannie ,” Minho groaned against his lips. “So good, such a good boy, relaxing all nice for me.” He pulled back and oh, Jisung was going to die. He looked so pretty, cheeks and ears red, his lips cherry-tinted and spit-slicked. At that moment, he was like a god, and Jisung wanted nothing more than to worship him.

“‘M good. Feel so good inside of me,” Jisung moaned, pressing his head into the pillows so his neck arched. “‘M so full. You fill me up so well, hyung.” 

“Yeah?” Minho breathed, eyes gleaming. “Shit it’s like–it’s like you were made for me.” 

“Maybe I was,” Jisung supplied, too delirious to think about his words. The sound Minho made was akin to a growl and it made shivers travel over the expanse of Jisung’s body. 

“My Jisungie,” he mumbled, reverent. “Can I move now, jagi? Please, my pretty?” 

“Mhmm, please, need you. Need you to fu-fuck me yesterday,” he stuttered. “Wanna feel you.” 

“Fuck,” Minho moaned, and then he was pulling out, all the way, until just the tip was left inside. Jisung was only given a second before he slammed back in, punching the air out of Jisung’s lungs in the form of a choked moan. 

His thrusts were relentless, each one leaving Jisung breathless, dizzy. He cried out as Minho angled himself just right, the head of his cock brushing against his sensitive prostate. Pleasure pulsed in his tummy, so overwhelming and so good at the same time.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck,” he cried, eyes stinging with tears again. 

“You–you look so fucking, mngh– pretty, shit, S-Sung,” Minho gritted in response. His hair was sticking to his forehead, sweat dripping down the sides of his face. A drop of it ran down and landed on Jisung’s cheek, causing his cock to jolt against his stomach, more precum beading at the tip. 

“ More, harder,” Jisung whined, his voice pathetic to his own ears. He wrapped his legs around Minho’s waist and Minho pushed forward with the extra help, practically folding him in half. The new angle had him hitting Jisung’s prostate head on, and it felt so good that tears finally spilled from Jisung’s eyes. They ran down his cheeks and spilled onto the pillow below him. Minho’s breath caught in his throat at the sight and he dropped his head between his shoulders. 

 “Are you–shit are you crying?” he asked breathlessly. Jisung whimpered. 

“Just feels–feels so good,” he sobbed. 

Minho groaned. “Fuck, you’re incredible. Taking it so well.” 

“Good? Am I good?” Jisung asked deliriously. He felt dumb, so dumb. Completely cockdrunk on Minho.

“ So good. Mm fuck. My good boy,” he praised. Jisung moaned wantonly at his words. He was so far gone. Everything was too much and simultaneously not enough. 

Minho continued fucking into him, maintaining a steady rhythm despite the fact that he was breathless and panting. Every thrust had Jisung sliding up the bed, his cock bouncing helplessly against his stomach. Even though Jisung’s stomach tensed every time he was filled up again, his body remained pliant, perfect for Minho to use how he wanted. He knew he must have looked utterly debauched to Minho with his mouth hanging open, endless moans spilling from his red-bitten lips. His makeup was probably running too. 

A hand reached between their bodies and wrapped around Jisung’s cock and he writhed. “ Nghh, Minho, Min– please, pleasepleaseplease—” he babbled, no clue at all what he was even begging for. Minho smiled crookedly above him. A drop of sweat collected at the tip of his nose. 

“Are you getting close, jagi?” Minho asked. His voice was rough and it made Jisung shudder. 

“Ye-yes,” he hiccuped. 

“Good,” Minho hummed. “You’ve been so good. You can come for me whenever you want.”

His body melted into pleasure as Minho began stroking his painfully hard cock in tandem with his thrusts. Jisung’s body was coming apart at the seams. He squirmed underneath Minho, the combined sensations of being fucked and touched almost too much–and then he was coming. He gasped and tossed his head back into the pillows as his orgasm washed over him and cum spilled all over his belly. He clenched rhythmically around Minho’s cock despite the overstimulation, pathetic whines falling from his lips. Minho groaned above him. 

“ Hng, oh my gosh, Sung-ah, you’re s-so–” was all he managed to get out. His thrusts stuttered as Jisung continued to clench around him while he rode out his orgasm. He needed to see Minho come, needed to see the expressions he made as he hit his peak. 

“Co-come inside me, pl-please,” he whimpered. He squeezed his legs around Minho’s waist and dug his heels into his lower back. “Please, wanna see you.” 

That seemed to be all the encouragement Minho needed, because all it took was a few more thrusts and he was coming too with Jisung’s name on his lips. He shoved his cock deep inside Jisung as he filled the condom and Jisung could almost imagine that it was him he was filling up instead. Minho moaned breathily as Jisung squeezed around his cock a couple times purposefully to milk him through his orgasm. The sound made Jisung’s cock twitch against his stomach even though he just came. There was no way he could get hard again so soon, but the sight and sound of Minho coming was almost enough. 

When he finished, he pulled out and tossed the condom in the trash and then let out a long exhale, collapsing onto the bed beside Jisung.  They laid there for a moment catching their breaths, the only sound in the room their gentle panting. Then Minho rolled over to face Jisung wordlessly. Jisung turned his head toward him and Minho merely blinked a few times and then his arms came around to pull him close. He maneuvered them until Jisung was on his side and they were spooning, Minho’s arms wrapped securely around his waist. His breath fanned across Jisung’s neck as he nuzzled close, and he remained silent. 

For a second Jisung thought that he was asleep, that was until he heard him take in a stuttering breath. “Minho?” he questioned softly, something twisting in his stomach at the sound. 

Minho exhaled slowly and squeezed Jisung’s waist tighter. “Please stay,” he whispered, voice small and barely audible. Seconds away from breaking. An ache spread through Jisung’s chest. He rested his hand on top of one of Minho’s and brushed his thumb over the knuckles. 

“ Jagi,” Jisung murmured. “Of course I’ll stay. I was hoping you’d ask.” He couldn’t be sure if Minho meant for just the night or forever, but he found that maybe he wanted to do both. 

“Okay,” Minho breathed, his body relaxing more behind Jisung. “I’ll drive you to your family’s in the morning. So you can spend Christmas with them.” 

“That sounds good to me. I’m glad I get to spend Christmas Eve with you.” 

Minho hummed and he could feel him smile from where he had rested against his shoulder. “Me too.” 

They continued cuddling for a few minutes afterward and then Jisung yawned loudly, triggering the same reaction from Minho. “Ugh, we should clean up,” he said. “I’d love to go to sleep now but we’re both disgusting.” 

Jisung groaned. “I don’t want to…” 

“What if we shower together?” 

At that Jisung’s eyes widened and he grinned. “Okay…maybe. But you have to carry me to the shower.” He wiggled around so that he could face Minho and gave him the biggest doe eyes he could. “ Please? I’m tired.” 

“You didn’t even do any work,” Minho responded with a scoff. But he moved to sit up anyway, pulling Jisung into his arms like a baby. Jisung giggled happily and wrapped his arms around Minho’s neck. 

“You’re the best, Minho-hyung,” he chirped. He craned his neck so he could kiss his cheek and giggled again at the sight of Minho’s ears turning red. Fuck, he really could love him again. He was afraid he already did. 

Minho set him down once they reached the bathroom and Jisung let out a squeak when he saw himself in the mirror. His cheeks were streaked with tears and lines of mascara and there were bruises littering his neck from when Minho had first started kissing him. His hair was a mess and his cheeks were still flushed even though they had rested a bit. He looked utterly fucked out.

“What?” Minho asked, cocking his head to the side. Jisung covered his face and groaned. 

“I am a mess! Why didn’t you say I looked like that?” he whined petulantly. 

Minho chuckled, shaking his head. “You look pretty. Means I fucked you like you deserved.” 

Jisung sputtered while Minho laughed at his reaction. As much as he wanted to pout though, he couldn’t keep the smile off his lips. 

Something warm bloomed in Jisung’s chest as he watched Minho prepare everything for their shower, humming to himself lightly as he grabbed an extra toothbrush from his cabinet and set it on the counter for him. The feeling quickly turned bittersweet though as he realized that in another week and a half he would be gone again. He couldn’t leave. He couldn’t. 

As soon as he was in the shower with Minho’s hands in his hair shampooing the strands with vanilla scented shampoo, his thoughts melted away. He sank back, rested his back against Minho’s chest even though the other complained that the angle made it harder for him to wash his hair. 

They traded off washing each other, managing to keep their hands from wandering for the most part, and then they walked back to bed, now clean and comfortable. Minho pulled off the top comforter out of principle and switched it for a cleaner one. He also grabbed Jisung a change of clothes and it made Jisung a little dizzy at how much they smelled like Minho and hung a little baggy on him. Minho had never been that much better than Jisung but obviously over the years he had gotten broader, while Jisung had only recently started working out regularly. Any size difference made Jisung’s heart flutter. He felt small in the best way. 

Since it wasn’t that late, they decided to turn on a cheesy Christmas movie while they cuddled under the covers. Jisung had trouble keeping his eyes open but he forced himself to stay awake, wanting the moment to last forever. Minho was completely engrossed in the movie but that didn’t stop the hand that was around Jisung from caressing him every now and then. 

By the time they finished their movie, it was a little past midnight and both of them were ready to sleep. Minho crawled under the covers first and opened his arms for Jisung to burrow in against him. Jisung released a content sigh as Minho’s arms came around to hold him. Minho kissed the top of his head, letting the kiss linger for a few seconds before he moved away. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he mumbled against his hair. Jisung’s heart kicked in his chest and he snuggled closer. 

“Merry Christmas, Minho.”

And for the first time in a while, Jisung remembered what Christmas really felt like. Even if he would be leaving soon, this would be worth it. 

-

Minho spent as much time as he could with Jisung during the rest of his time in Korea. Jisung came to visit him in the cafe whenever he was free, and after Minho was done working, he took Jisung out as long as he wasn’t busy with his family or other friends. Jisung also came over to his apartment almost every night. They would have dinner, maybe watch a movie, and then Minho would fuck him until he was a babbling, crying mess underneath him. He felt a little bad for stealing him away from his family so much, but Jisung’s parents seemed to be quite supportive anyway, if their knowing smiles when Minho dropped Jisung off on Christmas morning were anything to go by. 

There was a level of bittersweetness to everything they did. Minho could feel it and he could tell that Jisung felt it too. They were in a bubble, but it wouldn’t be long before reality came crashing down on them and they had to face the fact that Jisung would have to go back to America and they wouldn’t be together. Minho was doing his best to accept it, but it was harder than he could have imagined. He didn’t want to let Jisung go, not when he had just barely gotten him back. 

There was a chance they could do long distance, now that they were older and more mature. But their relationship was still in such a fragile stage that Minho worried the distance would rip them apart again. He couldn’t handle that. 

What made it worse was that Jisung didn’t seem to want to leave either. Minho could see it in his eyes, in the way that he looked at him. He knew it would be hard for them both and that somehow made it worse. Maybe if he knew that Jisung wasn’t feeling the same things he was feeling, and wasn’t falling for him again too, then it would be easier. He could tell himself that it wasn’t meant to be and he shouldn’t waste his time on someone who didn’t even like him the same way. But Jisung did. He could see that now, especially after they spent Christmas Eve together. Minho was losing him all over again and he didn’t know whether he would ever get him back. What if they really did end up getting torn apart again and Jisung chose to never come back to South Korea? How would Minho survive? 

It was New Years Eve when it all came to a head. Minho was with Jisung at a small party hosted by Felix, who had invited them and a few other friends, two of which Minho only had heard of named Seungmin and Jeongin, and one who he learned Jisung had been friends with for a while, who he learned was called Hyunjin. Jisung was lamenting the fact that his friends from America, Changbin and Chan, couldn’t be there to go into the New Year with them, and wouldn’t even be experiencing the New Year for fourteen more hours. At that moment, realization hit Minho like a truck and the drinks he’d had turned sour in his stomach, making him sick. There was no way he could do that. 

He excused himself from the conversation and made his way outside so he could stand in the cold air. Perhaps knock some sense into himself. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart and ease the mess in his stomach so he wouldn’t actually get sick. “Fuck,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. Why couldn’t life just be simple? 

After about a minute of alone time, the door opened followed by a quiet, “Minho-hyung?” 

Minho spun around and his eyes met Jisung’s. A lump caught in his throat and he desperately tried to swallow it down. “Hey,” he croaked weakly. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked. “You just…left.” His voice held a vulnerability to it that hurt Minho’s heart. He quickly stepped forward and grabbed Jisung’s hand to intertwine their fingers. 

“I’m sorry, jagi,” he said, giving Jisung’s hand a squeeze. That was a new development too since they had spent Christmas Eve together. Jisung seemed to like getting called that and Minho liked calling him that. It was normal for them when they were younger and it felt the same even now. “I just…” He swallowed thickly, the lump crawling back up his throat. “I don’t–” his voice began to crack and he took a deep breath. “I’m not good with words.” 

“That’s okay, take your time,” Jisung urged. He gave Minho a reassuring squeeze of his hand and that gave him the courage to continue. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he began. “I’ve missed you so much. And I’ve loved spending this time with you. More than…more than you even know. And that’s why–that’s why it hurts so fucking much, Hannie. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when you’re gone. I’m–I’m falling in love with you all over again and I can’t lose you again. I don’t want you to go but I can’t make you stay—” 

Minho was cut off when Jisung engulfed him in a hug, holding him so tight he almost struggled to take a deep breath. Jisung’s voice came out muffled from where his face was buried into Minho’s shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you either. I don’t. I’ll figure something out, I promise. But we can make it work. Please, let’s try to make it work.” 

Jisung sniffled and his body shook a little and that’s when Minho realized Jisung had started crying. “Oh no, baby, please don’t cry. Fuck, you’ll make me cry. I hate crying, you’ve already seen me cry too much,” he said with a watery laugh. 

“I just don’t want you to leave me. You don’t–I know I left before, but I’m not gonna leave you. I know it’ll be hard.” He lifted his head and moved back enough so that he could make eye contact with Minho. His watery eyes made Minho’s heart clench. He cupped Jisung’s cheek to wipe his tears and Jisung let him. “But can we please try? I promise I’ll do everything to make it work. I’ll visit as often as I can.” 

The promise did ease Minho’s fears but they were still there, sharp and biting. “I just don’t know how…it’s so far,” Minho lamented. “What if…what if you decide it's too much? Or if you decide you want someone else over in America? We’re still…we’ve barely even restarted our relationship. And I know how I feel but I don’t…” 

“I’m falling for you again too, Minho,” Jisung said firmly. “I might…I might already be there. I know it’s fast, but I already loved you in the past. I can love you again. We’re grown up now. I’m–I’m scared too, you know? Cause what if you find someone here? What if you change your mind?” Minho wanted to say that he would never do that, that he could never, but then he realized he would have to apply the same logic to his own thoughts. “But that doesn’t–that doesn’t matter enough for me to not hope.”

Minho nodded and Jisung took a deep breath. “If you…if you really don’t want to try then I understand. I know I may have seemed more chill about this whole thing but…I really think you’re it for me. Why else would we have met up again all these years later?” he asked. 

“You’re right. And I want you to be it for me too. I don’t think I ever fully let you go.” Minho swallowed. He couldn’t let his worries stop him from having Jisung back. He had let his fears stop him in the past, and maybe that was why he was having these issues now. It was probably good for them that they ended things, too young to properly navigate something as complicated as a long distance relationship. But maybe he could do it. For Jisung. For them. 

“I’ll try,” he said finally. “I want to try. So so bad. I’m just scared.” 

“Me too,” Jisung admitted shyly. “Like, really fucking scared. But we’ll be doing it together, right?” He smiled up at him and squeezed his hand. Minho couldn’t help smiling back. 

“You’re right. Together,” he agreed. Jisung’s smile grew wider and he bounced on his heels. 

“See? Now let’s go back inside. I don’t want to miss our midnight kiss. And it’s so cold. What were you thinking, coming out here by yourself anyway, Minho-yah? Trying to get sick,” he grumbled under his breath, making Minho laugh as he dragged him inside. It amazed him how easily Jisung was able to make him feel better. Maybe it was a sign that things would be okay. 

As they counted down the seconds to midnight, eyes locked together as they waited for the clock to hit 00:00, Minho felt it. Like sparks spreading through his chest. A flame igniting, taking over his body. And when Jisung kissed him, smiling so much against his lips that it practically couldn’t even count as a real kiss, and he tasted the decaf candy cane mocha he’d forced Minho to make him to help him sober up, he knew. It would be okay. 

[notti-stellate]

James Potter Fluff ABC's

a/n: I started this thinking it was a good way to get back into writing but boy was I wrong, this took me like three hours so I was like ready to be done by the end. I really hope you guys like it though! 🌌

A- Attracted (What does he find attractive about you)

James is obsessed with absolutely everything about you but if he had to pick one thing it would be your laugh. There’s practically nothing he wouldn’t do just to hear you laugh, especially when it’s because of him (you’re just fueling his ego here babes)

B- Body (What is his favorite part of your body…not like that you nasties)

James absolutely loves your lips, the way they fit so perfectly against his or the way they curve upwards when he does something impossibly stupid just to see you smile. His favorite part of himself is probably his hair or his hands, it’s honestly just whatever your favorite is.

C- Cuddles (how much of a cuddler is he)

There is nothing he loves more than to have you in his arms, it doesn’t matter who is holding who to him as long as he has you pressed against him for eternity. Definitely a 9/10 on the cuddler scale.

D- Dates (how often do you go on dates)

It depends mostly on what time of year it is, for example near quidditch season he doesn’t have much time between classes and practice so as much as he wishes he could take you on dates every day he just doesn’t have the time. After quidditch season though he generally will have a date every week, even going as far as to assign a certain day as date night.

E- Ego (how big is his ego, does it get in the way of the relationship)

He 100% has an ego, but it’s definitely well deserved. He’s the captain of the quidditch team, comes from very wealthy parents, and is famous around the school. Even with his ego he’s a kind and humble person, always willing to help others (except for Snape, nothing could make him help Snape). His ego could get in the way at first but after he sees it’s hurt you he’d swear to never let it happen again.

F- Fights (how often do you fight, how does he handle it) 

Fights are rare between you two, James is so in love he’d take your side on most things just to make you happy. When they do happen though (maybe because he was stressed or one of you were just simply not thinking clearly) he tries to keep a level head, having seen things escalate quickly from someone being dramatic *cough* Sirius *cough*. God forbid he ever makes you cry, he might just rip out his own heart right then and there. Safe to say fights aren’t much of a problem in your relationship.

G- Gifts (Does he get you gifts, what kinds of gifts does he give you)

He sees getting gifts as an essential part of your relationship. It’s not always big extravagant gifts (although he does love to give you those too) he prefers the small things, like flowers when he picks you up for a date or your favorite candy when he sees it in the store. Please for the love of everything get the boy some flowers and tell him they reminded you of him, it may cause him to be reduced to a puddle though so be prepared.

H- Happy (what kinds of things make him happy)

I think the better question would be what doesn’t make him happy. One of the biggest things that make him happy though is you and his friends (of course). He adores all of you so if you can become friends with them too he’d probably never stop smiling. 

I- Injury (how would he act if their loved one got hurt, how would he be if he was hurt)

James is very protective of you so depending on how you got hurt someone may be getting to the hospital wing with you. He’d be very doting, almost never leaving your side unless you needed something. If he gets hurt he’ll act all tough around his friends but the second you’re alone he’s acting as if he’s on death's doorstep, you should expect to have to baby him for at least a few days even after the injury has healed.

J- Jealousy (how jealous is he)

He’s not that jealous, sure he has his moments but he’s typically pretty sure of your love for him. It’s one thing if someone is just talking to you but if they touch you, that’s when he has a problem. 

K- Kisses (how does he kiss you)

Your kisses are like heaven to him, if his paradise is your lips on his forever he’d be content to die right then and there. He leaves his own kisses everywhere, his favorites being on your lips but mostly your neck and shoulders. It’s become a part of his routine to kiss you before he leaves any room or space, and you better believe he expects you to do the same.

L- Love language (how does he show his love)

He has a mix of everything but he mostly loves quality time and physical touch. His favorite times with you have been when you’re just lounging around with him, not doing anything but being in each other’s presence and arms.

M- Mornings (what are mornings like)

He typically gets up rather early, whether it’s to go to practice or workout, he’s up and out the door bright and early. But on weekends he loves to lay in bed with you in the mornings, eventually getting up to make breakfast together.

N- Nights (how are nights with him)

Because James gets up so early on weekdays he doesn’t stay up super late, valuing his sleep but always waiting to go to bed until you’re coming with him. On the weekends though he usually drags you out with him and the gang, or you all spend time at someone’s place (You and James’ or Sirius and Remus’). Sometimes though he’s content to just spend the night with you, watching movies and getting take-out.

O- Open (when would he open himself up to you, how much does he open up)

Once he trusts you, James is glad to open up with you and values the time he gets to be vulnerable with you. That being said, he sometimes refrains from opening up because he doesn’t want to burden you. If you ever betray his trust it’s likely he will forgive you but he won’t open up anymore.

P- PDA (is he comfortable with PDA, how often will it happen)

He absolutely loves PDA, he’ll take any chance he gets to show off his girl to the world. If you don’t like PDA he’ll try his hardest to keep it to a minimum but there’s no promises.

Q- idk babes

R- Romance (how romantic is he)

Have you ever watched a hallmark movie, that’s how cheesy and romantic he is. He tries his best to be as romantic as possible, trying to replicate all the books Marlene and Lily have told him about. He’s not always the best at it though, but at least he tries.

S- Safe (how much does he value your safety, how is ti compared to his own)

Your safety is his first priority, it goes hand in hand with his protectiveness). He would gladly sacrifice his own safety for your own, no matter the circumstances or how many times you try to fight him on it.

T- Talking (how often does he talk about you)

Honey you’re all he talks about, it’s driving Sirius insane. You can’t blame him though, he just loves his girl/boy. He tells practically everyone about you, he even goes as far as keeping a picture of you on him at all times to show people.

U- Understanding (how understanding his he)

He’s learned to be very understanding from having Sirius as his best friend, so you can imagine he’s gotten pretty good at it. There’s somethings he doesn’t always understand but he’ll always give it his best, you’ve just got to help him sometimes.

V- idk again

W- Whole (does he feel whole without you)

The short answer, absolutely not. James’ two biggest love languages involve being in close proximity to each other, so much to Sirius’ dismay he has trouble staying away from you. The longest he’s gone away from you was five days and by the end he was sure he was gonna die if he couldn’t see you soon.

X- Xoxo (how affectionate is he)

I’m sure you can guess from what I said before but James is an extremely affectionate person. Even with his friends being affectionate is just how he shows he cares, giving them a hug when they win something or throwing his arm around Sirius’ shoulders.

Y- I was gonna do yearning but you can just reread the W section for that.

Z- Zzz (how does he sleep)

He’s typically a heavy sleeper, especially when he feels safe like when he’s around you. He can sometimes lose sleep over little things though like if you get in a fight or if you aren’t home yet. If you aren’t home when he gets to bed he’ll try to occupy himself with other things, knowing he can’t sleep if you aren’t with him.

[plants-are-fun]

sunshine

tw!!!! This is gonna be a multiple parter and will have MANY serious topics. Do not read if you are sensitive to that stuff.

this story contains: abusive dad, mean Chris

Chrisxfemreader

readers pov

————————

I miss how I used to be. I assume I’ll be saying that forever. my childhood was by no means easy, but it was perfect to me.

I had a deadbeat dad and no mom, but I also had the triplets and their parents. I basically lived with them.

I still remember how when I came home from school to their house, marylou would open her hands out as I ran to her yelling “sunshine!” As loud as she could. I don’t think I would have made it this far without her.

me and Nick were the closest. I was the first person he came out to, and although I didn’t know much about what being “gay” meant, I was still supportive. He knew everything about my home life, and swore that he would never tell anyone about it, not even his brothers.

Matt was the one that recognized all of my conditions. He recognized that I was dyslexic when I couldn’t read very well. He would always read for me so I could fall asleep. He also recognized my depression and anxiety, and even my ADHD. Although they couldn’t get me to a doctor or therapist legally, knowing made it much easier to cope. He was honestly like a big brother to me, being two years older.

Chris was my everything. I had the biggest crush on him. I could even say my first love. It was obvious that he didn’t feel the same, but I’m grateful he kept me around anyway. He would never fully speak to me as we got older, but he would always tell his friends to back off whenever they picked on me for my hair, my clothes, or even my smell.

that all changed in middle school.

I was in 6th grade, he was in 8th, and he hadn’t spoken to me all year. I would always walk with him in the halls because I was more comfortable that way. Neither Nick or Matt had a schedule anywhere close to mine, so I never even saw them.

It was in the middle of January when I was trying to find Chris that I heard him and his buddies laughing from around the corner.

“what about y/n?” One of the goons said. I slowed my walking, not meaning to eavesdrop, but just so I would turn the corner and be spotted as quickly.

“what about her?” Chris said with a scoff.

“she’s always following you around, like a little lost puppy. It’s so obvious she likes you” some idiot said

I stopped and felt my ears burn with embarrassment.

“yeah I guess she does..” Chris said. I was so hurt. He used to always defend me against these guys and now he’s agreeing?

“but you let her! Do you like her too? I mean, you guys grew up together” one of his friends, Jared said.

“do I like her?” Chris said. I could tell he was embarrassed and maybe a bit flustered. As I thought he was going to defend me, defend us he said “bro, how could I like her? She lives in a trailer park. I could never like someone like that. Nick told me that it always smells like cigarettes and is always filthy. She needs to leave me be. The smell might rub off on me”.

I know I should’ve let it slide off. Middle schoolers are dumb, and they just want attention. But all I could do was stand there and begin to cry.

I bolted away from the group and into the restroom. I stayed there until the end of the day.

all I could think of was how Nick could have done that to me. I didn’t want him to come over to where I lived, but he insisted. He said that ‘it was only fair because I had basically lived at his house’. When I let him in, he seemed supportive, but I guess he was just grossed out. But he was the only person to even know about me living in a trailer park, and he promised he would never tell anyone.

I wanted to hurt him, maybe even out him. But in the end I just shut my mouth and shut down.

when the final bell rang, I ran out with red puffy eyes, and climbed into the back of marylous minivan.

“hey sunshine, how was school? are you ok?” She said. After squeaking out a quick “fine” she just sighed and tapped the steering wheel, waiting for her real sons to come out. Matt came out and I saw him look at me, then his mom before climbing in the front seat. Marylou just gave me a worried look then shrugged to Matt.

Chris came out looking like he was the coolest motherfucker in the world, slouching and nodding to his mom. He got in without even sparing me a glance.

when Nick came bouncing out, he waved to his mom and Chris before getting in the middle row with Chris. He turned to me with the biggest grin on his face and said “hey girl!! How was your day? I have SO much to tell you when we get back.” I just looked at him.

“hey are you ok?” He said, reaching out to rub my shoulder.

I jerked away from him. “Don’t touch me.” I spat out.

“what’s wrong” he said withdrawing his hand.

“don’t even talk to me.” I glared at him. He just looked confused. The whole car was silent. Marylou was looking at me in the rearview mirror and Matt was fully turned around with his jaw on the floor.

“Ms. Sturniolo, can you please just take me home?” I said startling even myself. I had never called Marylou that. Even when I was a kid before learning her name I just called her ‘nicks mom’.

“sure sweetie, are you sure? You can take a nap in your room if you want-“ “yes I’m sure. Thank you.” I don’t want to be anywhere near Chris or Nick. It wasn’t even my room. It was a guest bedroom with a lot of my clothes because I stayed over so often.

“ok sunshine” she muttered.

the whole car ride was silent. It took everything in me not to burst into tears and tell her everything, to ask her to not take me home. The last thing I wanted was to go back home. But it was obvious that I was bothering the poor family, so I would give them what they wanted.

once we pulled up, I gathered my things and jumped out of the car. After saying thank you and ignoring nicks goodbye, I started walking, before remembering I had forgotten my water bottle on the cup holder. I ran back, to where Chris was waiting with the window rolled down, holding it out to me. I took it and turned away before hearing him mutter “not even going to say thanks?”

I turned to him and said “thank you, Chris. I hope being here didn’t make you too uncomfortable” quiet enough for only us to hear it. “You should take a shower when you get home. I wouldn’t want my smell to rub off on you”. He looked like he had seen a ghost, but I didn’t care. I just walked off and slammed the door on my way into the house. I heard the car start to drive away when I felt a searing pain hit my jaw. my dad was awake.

“What the fuck do y-you think you’re doing here? I told you I don’t want your stupid face in here.” He slurred “I’ll stay in my room” I whispered. I knew he didn’t like me, but I never thought he would hit me in the face like that.

“ok, I don’t fucking care. Stay out of my sight. And if you ever slam my door again I’ll kill you.” I was used to empty threats, but after just hitting me, I didn’t know if it was empty anymore.

“yes sir” I said as I walked to my room.

that night I cried harder than I had ever before. I cried so hard that I threw up. After going to the Bathroom to brush my teeth, I saw the bruise that was starting to form.

I got out my flip phone and texted Nick. I couldn’t have him asking questions.

to: Nicky :))))))

hey, I’m taking the bus tmr, I don’t need a ride there or back.

from: Nicky :))))))

ok, r u sure? It’s rlly no problem. and r u ok??? Did I do something????

to: Nick Sturniolo

yes I’m sure. Night

that would be the last time I spoke to him.

Chris POV

—————

I still stay awake thinking of that day.

I don’t know why I said it. I didn’t mean it, she had to have known.

I wanted that stupid group of boys to like me so bad, and stupid fucking Jared had some sort of obsession with her, so I didn’t want to make him hate me by being her friend.

I didn’t like talking about her behind my back, but what would the harm be if she wasn’t around? It’s not like any of these guys would ever talk to her.

I remember being so worried about her. She would always come to school looking like she never slept, never showered, and never ate. It kept up until we took her in.

one day there was a stench on her, so I confided in Nick. He didn’t want to tell me, but I have a way of wiggling information out of people. He felt so guilty after, and made me swear I would never speak of what he told me, even to Matt. But of course I had to run my mouth to fucking jared.

we knew she lived in a park, but that was it. She wouldn’t even tell my mom.

during that car ride, I knew something was wrong. I would have been an idiot not to see it.

when she whispered those words to me, I knew I had fucked up.

Nick asked me what she said, but I was so worried that I could lose Nick too, that I just told him she said thanks.

Nick was distraught after he got the text saying that she would take the bus.

after it became clear she wouldn’t be coming back, Nick gave me her clothes to give to her. She just took them and walked away.

I began to hate her for the affect her absence had on Nick. Why would she do that to him without even explaining? Was she protecting me?

but she shouldn’t do that to Nick.

I hate her.

————————

not sure how I feel about this but I hope you like it!!!

please leave reviews and comments below!!

[tlouxx]

Electromagnetism - p.4

~ ellie williams x reader

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part three | part five <3

synopsis: you and ellie williams have been long time rivals. you're a physics majors at wellesley college, and you’re competing for the same spot in the prestigious dr. ramsey’s lab as ellie. suddenly neither of you can escape the other as you’re both trying to navigate your final year of college

content: college!ellie, mean!ellie, modern au, academic rivals to lovers, forced proximity, the next chapter will pick up right where this ends ;), lots of tension, ellie being flirtatious, reader and ellie finally kiss hehe

taglist: @gold-dustwomxn @skylerwhitwyo @blueberryhalfblood @elliebobellysosmelly @444na0m1 @bellswlw @mikasasbabygirl

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Day 58

PHYS 208: Intermediate Electromagnetism

I haven’t spoken to Ellie since that night. Although, I can’t entirely avoid her since we have class and work together. I know Ellie and I don’t see eye to eye, but I would never ask this of her. I’ve been keeping my head down, doing my work, dodging Ellie’s attempts to talk to me. Dina thinks it might’ve been a joke since Ellie and I were already fighting, but she wasn’t there. Ellie was serious. The way she looked at me when she said it. She was desperate. The application for Dr. Ramsey’s lab is due in two weeks. I’ve actually contemplated not applying, but I’ve worked too hard to not do this. 

…

I’m dreading walking into another class and having to endure more time spent with her. I sit at the back of my room and rest my head on the desk. I’ve been neglecting sleep lately in order to keep up with school work. I only raise my head when I hear my professor speak. 

“Since midterms are quickly approaching, I have made study groups for you all.” I internally groan. 

“You will make a study guide for the midterm and submit it to me. The group assignments will be on my desk after class.” 

My foot anxiously taps against the floor. I was hoping the professor might let us out early. My eyes can’t stop catching the time, but it doesn’t seem to go any faster. When her powerpoint comes to an end, she reminds us to check our study group assignment. 

Ellie cuts in front of me in line. I know she wants a reaction out of me, but I’m not giving her what she wants. She reads the paper on the desk in front of her. I try to make out what it says, before I can she faces me.  “Well, would you look at that? We’re partners.”

… 

“I don’t want to work with Ellie.”

“And why is that?” My professor closes her laptop. I struggle to gather the words to describe years of my relationship with Ellie leading up to this. 

“We.. We uh just don't get along.” I rub the back of my neck feeling awkward having to ask this. I don’t feel ready to confront Ellie just yet.

“It’s just one assignment. I’m sure you’ll both find a way to make it work.”

I try to protest one more time. She scoots me out of her office with that as her final answer. Maybe she’s right. It’s just one assignment. I’ve avoided her for a month.

I don't think I can avoid her anymore.

2:57 P.M

Well, when do you want to work on this?

E: My place after class?

Sure. 

E: It’s a date ;)

…

“So.. How do you think it’ll go tonight?” Dina sits on my bed writing a paper for her class. I haven’t been able to gather the courage to walk to Ellie’s apartment quite yet. 

“Hopefully quick. It’s not like both of us aren't capable.” 

“Why don’t you ask her about it.” 

I honestly don’t know why I haven’t just asked why she doesn’t want me to apply. On some level, it feels like a betrayal. Yes, we compete with each other. Yes, we fight. But this could be life-changing for me or for Ellie. I have to at least try to do this.

“I don’t know. I’m scared of what she’ll say. We both know how important this could be for a career in physics, research, academia. I find it hard to believe she’d want me to flat out not apply.” 

“Even if you don’t want to hear her answer, I think you deserve to know. Maybe she has a good reason.” 

…

I knock on Ellie’s door. The anticipation is killing me as I wait for her to answer. She opens the door. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” I stand there for a few seconds longer twiddling with the ring on my thumb. 

“Come in. I won't bite.” She smirks and pulls the door open wider. I haven’t spoken to her since the last time I was here. Butterflies are swirling around my stomach. I tell myself I’m just nervous to be around her again. I walk in after Ellie and shut the door behind me. She leads me back to her room. 

Her desk is full of textbooks, art supplies, and little trinkets. My hand traces the edge of her books. Her walls are lined with art and her bed is unmade. I had her pinned as more of a type A with a super organized room. I guess we're all full of surprises. 

The silence is permeating the air, and I desperately need to fill it. “Where do you want to start on the outline?” Ellie sits on her bed getting comfortable. 

“You can take chapters 1-3, and I’ll do 4-7.” 

… 

We fall into a more comfortable silence this time. We’ve been working on the assignment with no end in sight. After two and a half hours, I’ve barely scratched the surface of what we need to cover. Ellie flops back on her bed sighing. 

“How far have you gotten? My brain feels fried.” 

“My brain is also fried. I’ve barely gotten through chapter one.” My eyes feel strained from looking at the computer screen for so long. 

“Want to take a break?” She smiles at me, and I nod back at her. 

… 

Ellie leads me out onto the balcony. She planted a couple of snacks in front of us. The familiar scenery brings back the tension of before. Ellie and I sit on the couch together looking up at the dusky sky. Being out here again with Ellie so near to me, I remember the way she shifted her body to lean in closer, I could almost feel the heat of her touch. I remember how her perfume stuck to me for hours afterward and all I could think about was Ellie Williams. God I was pissed at her. I am pissed at her. 

“It’s uh-a nice night out here.” I smile at Ellie not knowing what else to say. The fluttering in my stomach is coming back with a vengeance. 

“I’m glad you’re finally talking to me again.” She sets down her drink and her arm stretches out behind me. I feel the urge to sink into her. 

“I guess I didn’t need to give you the cold shoulder. Sorry about that.” Her fingers lightly stroke up and down my arm. I like her touch more than I thought I would. 

“I understand why you did it. I do have a good reason for asking..” She trails off her sentence and faces me. 

“Okay.” I inch closer to her until only a small gap remains. “I’m listening.”

“I told my interviewer for grad school that I already had the position.” 

“Oh my god, Ellie… Why would you do that?” I raise my voice unintentionally. How could she be so stupid. Now I know why she looked so desperate. If they find out she lied about this they could rescind her offer.

“Because I’m an arrogant piece of shit who underestimated you. It was before the semester started. and then you got a 100 in quantum mechanics…” Her demeanor softens.

“I freaked out. I thought I would get it no problem. Then suddenly you’re around me all the time and- I’m.. uh struggling to get my shit together.” 

Now that I know, I can’t say I wouldn’t have done what Ellie did. I don't know if I forgive her just yet, but I wish I would have listened to her sooner.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t know what you want me to do Ellie. You know I have to apply.” Ellie reaches out and puts her hand on my knee and her eyes meet mine. 

“I know. I’m sorry for asking. I gotta clean up my mess by myself.” 

… 

Ellie and I head back inside to continue working on the assignment. I go to return to my spot on her rug. 

“You know you’re allowed to sit at my desk or you can sit on the bed with me. We might be working for a while longer.” 

“Oh, are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on your space.” 

She scoots over and pats the spot next to her. I gather my laptop off the floor and sit at the edge of her bed. I feel embarrassed about the way I was feeling outside. Leaning into her touch. Yearning for more. It’s just a lapse in judgment. I was just feeling flustered because we haven't really spoken since we fought. At least that's why I think I’m flustered. 

…

We continued working on the assignment in silence for a while. It’s starting to get late, and my eyes are feeling heavier than before. It's 12:03 A.M. when I look over at Ellie. I think she’s starting to feel tired too. Her hair falls in front of her face and she tucks it behind her ear. I blush knowing she just caught me staring at her.  

“Um. I think I might call it a night and go home.” Ellie shuts her laptop and rubs her eyes. 

“You can stay if you want.” She moves over and starts to close the gap between us. The beat in my chest is rapidly intensifying as the space between us lessens. 

“Oh, uh I don’t know if I should.” I could move away from Ellie right now, but I can’t or maybe I don't want to. The force between us feels magnetic like I can’t make myself stay away from her. Her face is lit up softly by the string lights in her room.

“It’s a long walk for you back.” Her hand makes its way onto my thigh. Her calloused fingers make goosebumps prickle up spine. “I was just thinking we could work on it again in the morning. It’d be safer if you stayed here.” 

“Okay, I’ll stay.” 

…

Ellie brings me a pair of pants to change into. I can’t believe I just agreed to spend the night here. “Thanks. Where’s your bathroom?” 

Ellie laughs. “I won’t look. You can change here.” 

“Ellie, c’mon.” She covers her eyes with her hands. Not wanting to protest more, I changed into the pants she gave me.

She hops onto her bed. I’m suddenly unsure if I’m supposed to get into bed with her or not. Maybe I should just sit on the floor. I’d never live it down if I climbed into bed with Ellie Williams when that's not what she was insinuating. This whole situation is confusing me. We haven’t spoken in a month, and now I’m spending the night and wearing her clothes. I hate that I don’t hate this. God, what is wrong with me? 

I can feel Ellie staring at me as I stand still unsure of my next move. “Um, you can sleep in my bed if you want to. I won’t make you sleep on the floor.”  She fumbles her words. This is uncharted territory for both of us. “Obviously, unless that's what you’d prefer I don’t want to overstep any boundaries.” 

I shouldn’t. 

“Seems like you want me to sleep in your bed Ellie. I think you missed me.” 

Ellie pulls me onto her bed with her. She’s stronger than I thought she’d be. Her thinly lined shirt gives way to her muscles underneath. I find myself on top of her staring at her beneath me. Her hands find my hips, but immediately toss me to the side of the bed. 

“Maybe I did miss you. Is that so bad?” 

Ellie wraps her arms around me pulling me in closer. I can’t help but savor her touch. 

“No, It’s not so bad.” 

The desire burns through me clouding my judgment. I shakily grasp Ellie’s hair and pull her in to kiss me. At first soft, terrified she may not want to kiss me back.

Ellie’s hands wander to my hips pulling me against hers leaving no question of her aching for me. Years of pent up desire bursting out all at once. Her touch feels like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Our bodies pressed together furiously.

She kisses me like she’s needed me all her life with fervor and lust. Her hands wander up my shirt and I don’t stop her. Her lips are soft but rough against my own. She kisses down my neck making me feel weak to her touch. A suppressed moan escapes my lips. God, I need her so badly. Her lips return to mine hungry for more.

My phone rings in the background making us pull apart suddenly. “Um, I should get that.”

… 

“It was Dina. She was worried I hadn’t made it home.”

“Oh, I see.” Ellie sits up in bed. I would’ve thought I'd feel regret for kissing Ellie but I don’t. I feel like it’s unlocked a part of me that’s been missing. 

“Is it okay if I still-“ She lifts up the covers. 

“Oh my god, just get back in.” I laugh and get back into bed with Ellie. This is not how I saw this ending.