Tumgik
#there was supposed to be a bit where one of his students is like 'oh i didnt know you were a father!'
saetoru · 6 months
Note
Do you think there could be a chance where reader and bully! gojo meet again years later and try again? Maybe 🥹
part one here — contents. fem! reader, exes to lovers, neighbors to lovers, slight nsfw so minors do not interact, slight angst but it’s a hopeful (pretty much happy) ending, idk what else lmk what i missed
Tumblr media
imagine you guys are neighbors—you accidentally meet when you’re both walking up to your apartment doors one night after work. he pauses, and you can feel eyes staring into you from the side so you look over and yeah. wow. there’s your worst heartbreak of your youth standing right there in all his glory, staring at you like you’re a figment of his imagination come true. like he never expected to see you again (you suppose he probably didn’t).
“hey,” he says softly. satoru has never been one to greet someone first, never been the one to reach out and bridge the gap himself. he always waits to be approached. that much has surprisingly changed since the last time you saw him.
“oh…” you trail off, “hi. it’s you.”
you don’t seem half as happy to see him as he does you—but that much is to be expected, of course. satoru didn’t have the luxury of moving on, you can tell because you still can read him just as easy after all these years. like he hasn’t changed the small quirks about him, like he’s still tried desperately to hold onto his past because that’s where you were. he still looks desperately in love like the night you left him.
it’s pathetic, you wanna say. to still be in love for so long. when it’s so clearly over and there’s no coming back. a small part of you is filled with this sick, evil satisfaction that he’s still thinking about you when you don’t spare him a single thought.
but you suppose you’re not at over him as you thought when there’s this much excitement bubbling into you at his suffering. maybe, if you were actually completely over him, you’d be indifferent to him. you wouldn’t forget, but you’d forgive. you’d hope he learned his lesson and spared another innocent, poor girl from what you suffered for simply loving him. for simply wanting him to feel cherished and special and worth someone’s time.
you hope he’s better now—not for yourself, but for someone else. he doesn’t deserve a second of your time.
“you live here?” he asks, mildly shocked.
you’re almost offended. does he mean he thinks you can’t afford to live in the same apartment building as him? or is he just that shocked to see you? nothing about satoru seems genuine—you can’t help but assume the worst in him.
“yes,” you say curtly, “i moved here for work.” (why did you add that? why are you giving an opening to make conversation?)
“oh, really? me too,” he nods. (why is he making conversation? why couldn’t he have just ignored that opening and spared you the trouble?)
“oh,” is all you say. it’s silent for a bit, and then, “well, i better—”
almost like he knows what you’re about to say, he cuts you off with a quick, “i teach now.” you blink, staring at him in confusion. he rubs his neck as he adds, “i uh…i teach at that high school down the block. so uh…that’s why i moved here.”
“that’s…that’s nice,” you nod awkwardly. why is he telling you all this?
“yeah, my students are really cool,” he adds with a grin—it’s…a bit cute, actually. because he means it. his smile is too fond for it to not be true.
this isn’t the satoru you know—at least, not the one you think is the real satoru. you’re not so sure which side of him is actually him.
“i’m glad you enjoy what you do,” you offer. there’s not much else to say. “i’ll be heading in now.”
“right,” he coughs, “s-see you around.”
and then you really do see him around.
sometimes, it’s when you both leave in the mornings—he lets you enter the elevator first and presses the button for you when he gets in. he always lets you exit first too, like he cares to be chivalrous even if you’re not together anymore. sometimes it’s when you’re coming home—he’s holding a bag of take out as he walks up to his own door. you suppose he’s never been one to cook, and that probably hasn’t changed. sometimes, you’ll see him at the grocery store too—his cart is usually just filled with snacks and sweets. it’s not a very adult like shopping cart, so something’s evidently never change.
and every time he sees you, he always tries to strike up a conversation. no matter how short of a window your time is. even if it’s the forty five second elevator ride from floor one to floor three, he’s determined to say something.
today my students got me a gift—it’s a pair of sunglasses, because he still apparently loves those.
i got to take my students on a field trip today. i’ve been planning it for weeks—they have to write a paper on it, though. they’re not too happy about that even if they enjoyed themselves.
today was my student yuji’s birthday. i let the others out early to celebrate with him—they’re apparently all a good bunch of kids. friendly and tight knit in a way satoru’s never experienced. he thinks kids should hold onto that. good friends are hard to come by, after all.
and you’re always guarded. always so cautious and careful when you talk to him. sometimes you try to be polite, other times it’s abundantly apparent you don’t want to converse. he doesn’t pay it any mind, though. just rambles away and away and away and talks enough for the both of you because he’s just happy you’ll listen. even if begrudgingly.
and then one night, it happens—it’s late and you had to stay extra in the office. you’re grumpy and tired and the only good thing about this is that it’s late enough that you probably won’t run into satoru today.
except he’s waiting right there, head against your door as he fidgets with the door knob and grumbles incoherently under his breath.
“stupid damn door,” he slurs, “jus’ fuckin’ open.”
“ahem,” you clear your throat—he stiffens. “any particular reason you’re trying to break in?”
he turns to face you—stumbles a little as his glossed eyes look at you in confusion. he’s drunk—you can smell the liquor on him.
“whad’ya mean? ‘s my door,” he holds an arm out to gesture at your door.
“no,” you sigh, pointing to the door next to yours, “that one is.”
“oh!” he perks up, “‘s why it wasn’t working?”
“most likely,” you nod awkwardly, “that’s usually how that works.”
you watch as he unceremoniously stumbles over his steps to his door—how he tries but fails to get his keys through the key hole before you sigh and take pity on him. you don’t have it in you to leave a drunk person out in the cold, no matter how much (bad) history you might have.
“here,” you sigh, grabbing his keys from his hand and opening the door for him. you try to ignore that brief moment of warmth where your hands brushed against each other.
“do y’know what today is?” he mumbles, breath fanning over your shoulder as you open his door.
“i….tuesday?” you ask, in confusion. he looks crestfallen when you stare his face.
“oh, n-never—” he stumbles a bit. you catch him before you realize. “never mind.”
somehow, you barely manage to help him to his couch before he’s passing out, too drunk to really register anything else. satoru never drinks much—it was the funniest part about him. you used to tease him for it all the time, for being a frat boy who can hardly handle some alcohol.
i like being in control, he’d say petulantly, i don’t need to be drunk to have a good time. i am the good time.
you take a quick glance around his place before you can catch yourself. it’s not very different from your place—the living room is the same size and the structure is more or less the same. his tv is a bit more expensive, and his furniture is more simple. that’s about it.
you glance down at him one last time before walking out and shutting the door behind you. you hesitate for a moment before turning on the screen of your phone to check the date—it takes you a moment, but then it hits you.
it’s the day you broke up. all those years ago. it’s certainly been a good few—you almost forgot the date, but apparently satoru remembers. he remembers enough to go get shit-faced drunk as if the memory is too much to bear.
does he do this every year? drink away his sorrows every anniversary of the day you left him? does he really still care that much? why hasn’t he moved on?
and then you stop thinking about it. it’s not your problem.
but then you just…can’t help but be a bit more gentle around him. it happens without your control. maybe it’s muscle memory. maybe you’re finally letting your muscles relax and do that involuntary thing of their own that they do.
evidently that’s to be more soft with the boy who broke your heart. except he’s a man now, you suppose. he should’ve been a man when you dated him—but you’re glad he grew up eventually. even if you couldn’t be there with him for it.
but you’re a bit more friendly with him now—you suppose you can coexist with your talkative neighbor that also happens to be your awful ex boyfriend. you answer him a bit more when he talks to you, ask him about his students when he brings them up—he brightens so much when you do. it’s….painfully endearing.
yuji is sweet, a little too kind for his own good. nobara is a little tough to soften up, but once you do, she loves tenfold. megumi is a grump, but he’s a real softie. yuta is a bit socially awkward, but he’s got a good heart. maki is all business and very studious, but she’s a determined young girl. panda is not a panda—his name is odd but he’s funny. toge is quiet, but he looks out for people.
they’re good kids. he cares a great deal about them.
and then you start to tell him about your job. how your boss is another baldy that’s annoying—just like the professor you both shared. he chuckles at that. your coworkers are a good gossip, but you’d never go hang out with them outside of work. well, maybe except for one—utahime is a nice person, even if a bit of a priss sometimes.
it’s nice, talking to him. he’s funny, makes banter easily like it’s second nature. sometimes….sometimes it feels like old times. you’re not so sure how you feel about that, but you think it’s not bad. you can be grown ups, the two of you. you can be adults and ignore your immature past. the hurt is still there, but it’s manageable now. doesn’t linger and doesn’t weigh on you anymore.
sometimes satoru still stares at you in that way he did all those years ago, sometimes he still stutters over his words and loses his train of thought when he meets your eyes. he still loves you—you knew that from the start.
you stopped loving him a long time ago. that’s what you thought, anyway—but sometimes seeing satoru is….too familiar. it makes you feel things you thought you buried away for good. maybe it’s just deja vu, maybe it’s just the history speaking for itself.
or maybe…maybe you’re starting to tread a more dangerous path. the one that led you to your first, and worst heartbreak. you can’t step foot on that path again, no matter what.
that’s what you tell yourself, anyway—but satoru and you are talking one night. in front of your doors, like usual. you’re excited from a raise at work, and he’s excited because his students have done exceptionally on their final exams and you’re both celebratory in spirit enough that it turns into a cheery hug—and then…and then you’re kissing.
that wasn’t supposed to happen, but it does. you don’t know who kisses who, but you’re both wrapped up in each other and your lips are pressed against the others and oh, he feels so, so familiar.
like home. even if it’s not always safe to be there anymore, it’s still your home. you can’t let go of that nostalgia.
and then his hands cup your cheeks and your arms wrap around his neck and suddenly he’s in your bed—your door was already unlocked and the two of you somehow managed to stumble through the entire apartment until your back hits your mattress. your place is similar enough to his that he finds your room without any issues.
it was never supposed to happen—the shedding of clothes and the desperately needy kisses. the way you held his face and he held you. the way he trembled as he touched you, scared he’d mess it up again. the way you laced your fingers and kissed him between his brows like old times.
and then he fucks you like he means it. has his head in the crook of your neck and sniffles into your skin, rolls his hips and makes you mewl his name while he tells you every good thing about you.
you’re beautiful, the prettiest he’s ever seen. you’re so soft when you love, so delicate with the ones who hold your affection, it’s too much for anyone to deserve. you’re laugh is like music, a melody that’s impossible to grow tired of. but the most important part? you look at everyone like they’re worth something—just for existing, just for being there with you and crossing your path. worth your time, and energy, and compassion. they never have to work for it.
it’s rare, finding someone like that. it’s even more rare to get them to fall in love with you—satoru has never stopped regretting letting that go.
he whispers that all through breathy moans and the occasional cracked sob. whimpers when your fingers lock into his hair and pull the strands when his swollen tip kisses that spot he never forgot how to find. you cum first, falling apart with a gasp—and he cums right after, like feeling you is what it takes to make him come undone.
you still do that thing you did—rubbing his back as he spills into you, soothing him as he pants harshly into your skin. the only difference is that you don’t kiss his head sweetly and call him yours. god, he misses that so, so badly.
when his body slumps over yours, it’s when it hits you, what you just did.
“oh no,” you breathe, “oh god. we….we shouldn’t have done that, should we?” you ask tiredly.
satoru’s lip is trembling—he can’t bear to have you regret him. not again.
“i love you,” he says desperately, “i…i never stopped.”
“obviously you didn’t love me enough,” you mumble, not looking at him. it’s something you’ve realized—looking satoru in his eyes makes you weak.
you can’t have that.
“i’ll love you more than enough now,” he promises.
“what if i say i don’t love you anymore, satoru?” you challenge, “it’s been years. i didn’t wait around for you.”
his breath shakes at that. you think you got him there, but apparently he’s determined. it shocks you.
“then i’ll love enough for the both of us.”
for a moment, you can’t help but think if only everyone could see him now. years later. gojo satoru begging you to let him love you hard enough that you don’t have to. being okay with half of you because that’s better than none of you.
it’s almost comical. maybe a little sad. entirely avoidable if he’d just been brave from the start.
“that’s not fair to you,” you sigh, “you’re an asshole but…but you don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who can love you—”
“then i’ll show you,” he grabs your hand, pressing it to his face as he looks at you with enough hope that it’s almost too cruel to crush it. even for someone like him. “i’ll show you how to love me again. it’ll be easier this time. i promise.”
there’s a tear that slips down his cheek—and then another and another and another. and your thumb, just like muscle memory, swipes it away.
you want to tell him—it’s always been so, so easy to love satoru. easier than anything in the world. easier than loving yourself. it came like second nature, flowed through your blood stream and pumped through your heart. you loved him so easily.
you wish he’d loved himself a little bit easier back then. maybe he’d have realized who was worth keeping and who wasn’t. maybe he’d be happier now—a selfish part of you thinks you could’ve been happier that way too.
“satoru,” you sigh, “i have more self respect these days.”
“i know,” he nods, “i’ll be good—so good. i promise. i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and we can have three cats and i’ll pay for the vet visits. just like you always wanted.”
you can’t help but chuckle at that. he’s always known how to be charming at the right times.
“and what about the fancy window i always wanted?”
“i’ll get you one of those too,” he swears, “find us a nice place by the school and your job and we’ll be the best cat parents ever. and i’ll be good. so good.”
“i can’t do that all again,” you shake your head, “crying over someone like you is not worth it.”
“i won’t make you cry,” he insists.
something in you screams to believe him—that voice from your youth. that one that never quite stopped falling in love. that one that can’t ever really let him go.
“you don’t deserve me,” you mumble, pulling him close. he tucks his head into your neck, kisses your skin and breathes you in like he needs you to live.
maybe he does.
“i know,” he murmurs. “but i love you. i’ll make you love me again.”
“good luck,” you snort—your hand weaves into his hair, and your lips kiss his head.
well….maybe he’s already succeeded.
7K notes · View notes
bunni-v1 · 5 months
Note
Could I ask for your headcanons on how the staff would take care of/look after the reader? I’m a sucker for the fics where they take a parental role
How The Staff Takes Care of You
TW: None!
Info: Crowley, Crewel, Trein, Vargas and Sam x Reader (Platonic)
🍓This one is short but sweet. I’ve spent a lot of time on the event, but I want to start on other requests outside of it too. This one looked fun and easy so I got it out within about an hour or so. I hope you enjoy!
Tags: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck
Crowley
-Lets get one thing straight, Crowley does not take care of you
-It’s hard to even say that Crowley cares for you. It’s hard to say he cares for anyone other than himself.
-Still… he does do some things correctly.
-He gives you a place to live (which he threatened to take away), food (which he threatened to take away), and funding (which he… threatened to take away).
-He DOES come to ACTUALLY care for you, just… not in the traditional sense, I suppose. 
-He has frequent check ins with you to ensure that you are doing well.
-Occasionally he stops by ramshackle just to chat with you and ensure you have company.
-Believe it or not, he set up a lot of the things you do specifically so that he can ensure you are getting along with other students and have a support system here.
-He lets you keep grim around — even though he has cause countless issues for student and staff alike.
-He’s like your weird uncle. You hardly ever actually see Crowley around, but you know that he is looking out for you in his own way. 
-Thats all that matters, right?
Crewel
-Crewel is also anther oddball when it comes to how he shows that he cares.
-He is… aware that Crowley does not do a very good job at caring for you, and he’s a bit easier on you because of that.
-He’s probably harder on you homework-wise than most other students though.
-He wants to see you excel and succeed in his class.
-It would be the biggest fuck you to Crowley ever, so he works hard to make sure that you prove yourself to everyone.
-He makes sure that you’re sleeping and eating well, and if he sees that you are not, he makes you stay ofter class to talk to him so you both can find a way to solve this issue.
-If it’s money issues keeping you from eating, don’t worry. He’s now making you a lunch — or at least he gives you some money to eat.
-The nicest thing he does for you, however, is he gets you clothes.
-Your uniform is pretty… bad, and he feels bad for you.
-So, he takes matters into his own hands and gets you a nice new one that actually fits you.
-He and Trein have a rivalry over who treats you better and who you like more. (Trein is winning by like one point and it drives Crewel crazy).
-Crewel very much is the one to tell you “Boys are stupid, don’t date — especially not the ones here.” Lol
-Again, more like a very ambitious uncle who just really loves his family but never wants kids of his own.
-Oh, also, his dogs love you. So that’s a plus.
Trein
-He has two girls of his own, and he really does love kids, he’s just… jaded from years of being a teacher for snotty kids like Ace.
-You though? He likes you a lot.
-You’re a troublemaker, sure, but you always try your best in classes and have been making the best of your situation.
-Speaking of, Trein hates the way Crowley is so lackadaisical about your position and treatment.
-You are a living person? How could he just leave you to almost starve or freeze in your rickety old dorm?
-Trein visits your dorm frequently after his school day is done, just to ensure you have food and are able to stay warm/cool in the respective seasons.
-If he finds that you do not have enough food or cannot afford it, he talks to both Sam and Crowley and scolds them into lowering prices for you and raising your passive income.
-He still buys you things with his own money.
-If you fall asleep in class and you look like you need it, he won’t bother you. 
-Tells you that you can always come to him if you’re having trouble with anyone, and he will most definitely deal with them.
-Do you need extra help with homework, he’ll stay late just to ensure you’re understanding the material. 
-Seriously the number one dad at NRC, and he’s really happy to have you around since you remind him so much of his girls.
Vargas
-The resident promoter of a healthy lifestyle and great workout routine at NRC.
-You don’t really spend that much time around Vargas, so you two aren’t close, but he knows about you through the other members of staff.
-He knows how Crowley treats you, and while he isn’t one to play favorites… he can make an exception.
-Especially since he knows you aren’y always eating enough thanks to your limited budget.
-The last thing he needs is a student passing out in his class.
-He still pushes you to work out and participate, but if you’re looking like a ghost when you walk into class he’s going to make you go change and get some rest.
-He’s a gym nut, not a monster.
-He’s good with dieting though, so he’s able to tell Trein and Crewel and Same what would be best for you to eat in your condition.
-So yeah, he’s likely the least involved in your life, but he does help you from behind the scenes.
-It’s better than Crowley, so that’s a win in his books.
Sam
-Other than Trein, Sam probably sees you the most frequently out of everyone.
-You come into his shop at least once a day for something.
-At first he treated you the same as every other student, charing you ridiculously hight prices for typically cheap stuff.
-Then one day you came in looking for something to eat, cause you’d run out of what little Crowley gave you, but you didn’t have enough money.
-He nearly cried at how heartbroken you looked when you realized you couldn’t get anything.
-He gave you the whole meal for free, didn’t even ask for what you had.
-Trein is also on his ass about how high his prices are, so he purposefully has a “discount” every time you’re there to buy something.
-He also gets to know you through your shopping and makes and effort to talk to you to feel out where you are physically and mentally.
-He reports what he notices back to Trein and Crowley, just to make sure someone who has the power to is taking care of you.
-You’ve got a friend in Sam, that’s for sure.
1K notes · View notes
dollwrites · 4 months
Text
𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 — 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!student!reader, titty fucking ( busty!reader ), oral sex ( m!receiving ), facial ( gojo loves skincare!! ) noncon, little bit of manipulation, suggested age gap / power dynamic, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 ∣ @tomatop [ thank you so much, i hope you like it! ]
Tumblr media
“You look scared to death, baby girl.” Gojo was muttering with amusement as his long leg juts out behind him, kicking the door closed. it effectively traps you in the room with him, and at the same time, blocks out the dim light from the quiet hallway. your heart pounds heavy against your chest when darkness engulfs the room, and you reach out to flip the light switch, but his hand clapping around your wrist halts your movement, and your breath catches in your throat. “Don’t be. I’m not gonna eat ya.” you can feel the warmth of his body, and the wave of his breath against the shell of your ear, and you realize he’s right behind you. so close that the taunt muscles masked by his uniform bump against your shoulder blades. “Not until I’m done having my fun with you.”
a husky chuckle bubbles up from his throat, and you let out a nervous giggle, too. you’re not sure why you do that— maybe to ease the growing anxiety within you. but it embarrasses you how timid you sound when you murmur, “I don’t think we’re supposed to be in here—“
his hand careens upwards to grasp yours, guiding your delicate fingers to the light switch and flicking it. in a moment’s time, the room is flooded with the glow, and you realize you were staring down at your own feet. your bare knees peek out from underneath the navy skirt, tucked inwards towards one another.
“But, what better place to hold an exam than a quiet classroom?”
you turn to look over your shoulder at him, your perplexity getting the better of you. only, you hadn’t expected him to be so close. his blinding sapphires peeking out just enough from behind his sunglasses to make your heart skip a beat, and his cocky smirk inches from your face. “I— oh, I’m being tested??”
his smirk stretches wider, and he nods. “Mhm.” he answers simply, before taking a step closer to you. he would’ve knocked into you, had you not stumbled back just in time. “I wanna see just how badly you really want me as a mentor. Do you know what that means?” you shake your head, starting to take another step back when he swaggers closer, but this time, he reaches out as grasps your uniform top, stilling you in your tracks. your eyes widen, and flit downwards to see his slender digits creeping between the buttons, slithering like two, devious snakes, beneath the fabric. upon seeing your apprehension, as well as feeling your breasts heave with a heavy breath, Gojo chuckles again. “You gotta earn it, baby girl.”
as soon as the words left his lips, a shudder slipped down your spine, and he hooked his fingers against your blouse, anchoring them from the inside, and popping buttons as he wrenches it open to expose your chest to him. you were thankful for the durability of your bra where your uniform top had failed you, and the partially secured mounds ripple in response to his rough treatment of your garments. an inaudible gasp leaves your lips parted followed by a soft cry of protest, “W—wait..!” your face heating up with a furious blush, and Gojo elicits a soft, playful whistle.
“There we go. I’ve been waiting long enough to see what those tits looked like under that tight, little top you wear.” your new teacher snickers, allowing his middle finger to curl around the underwire of your lingerie, his knuckle nesting in your warm cleavage, and he uses that grip to pull you back to his body, sighing in content when you stumble, and your breasts smush against his chest. “Come a little bit closer, let me feel ‘em.”
both of his hands then envelop your clothed mounds, squeezing through the soft fabric of your lingerie to knead and grope at you, and he swoons at how easily your body squishes, how soft and warm your tits feel in his hands. even through your bra, you could tell he was enjoying it. the ever-growing lump in his dark trousers was beginning to prod at your bare thigh. you wince; his treatment growing increasingly more rough. you knew it was wrong, so you grasp his wrists in an attempt to pry his hands from you. but, Gojo merely ignores the gesture, and your silent protest.
“These feel good. Your little bra can hardly keep them contained, huh?” he snickers playfully, rubbing them in circles to hear the sounds you make. “So fucking soft,” Gojo whispers, more to himself than to you, and squeezes again, harder this time. when your breath catches in your throat, you elicit a quiet and almost pitiful squeak, and he suppressed a low growl. “They’re sensitive too, huh? Does it feel good, baby? Having your big, soft titties groped by your teacher?”
“No.” you lie, sheepishly. it was embarrassing, to say the very least, but you didn’t want to admit that deep down it felt good. it was so wrong. “Please, stop…”. the strength in his hands, and the way he grabbed handfuls, then groaned when your flesh attempts to spill out of their cups at his rough treatment. you look away, trying to ignore the humiliation of hearing yourself make such whiny mewls, but Gojo wouldn’t allow that.
“Look up at me, pretty girl. You know what I really want to do to these big, warm tits?”
your eyes flit back up to his countenance in a second. even the black lenses of his shades couldn’t completely mask the celestial glow of his glacier’s gaze, that drew your stare in as easily as a siren might send sailors to their death. “W—what?”
it didn’t even sound like your voice; you were completely and utterly entranced by Satoru Gojo.
he liked it.
a lot.
with a soft chuckle, his tongue swipes along his lower lip, before his voice drops to a low, husky octave. “Wanna see my cock sliding between them. Think you can do that for me, baby?” he doesn’t wait for you to answer; he gives you a little pat on the head, before tilting his own. “On your knees for me.”
you were hesitant, swallowing hard around the nervous lump in your throat, but he didn’t mind forcing you. one hand grasping your hair roughly at the roots, he guides you down, further and further, until you have no choice but to go to your knees to avoid the sting of your hair being pulled. “There you go, down, down, down. Just like that.”
“Ow,” you whine, just under your breath, and look up at him once you’re planted, your uniform skirt fluttering around your thighs. “You’re hurting me, Gojo-sensei…”
Gojo’s grin hadn’t left his face, not even for a second, and he uses the grip on your hair to tilt your head back so he can study your countenance with a soft hum. “If you’re a good girl for me, I won’t have to hurt you.” the flippant tone of his voice forced a chill up your spine as he continues, “But if you fight me, I will take what I want from you. And it will hurt. Think about that, pretty girl, while I fuck your tits.”
for a moment, you’re stunned, but you watch him fish inside his pants and pull his cock out, wrapping a powerful fist around it and pumping it roughly a couple of times. you stared at it, allowing your eyeline to trace every girthy, veiny, strong inch of him and you couldn’t help the involuntary gulp that you took, swallowing hard around the lump in your throat. it was one of the biggest dicks you’d ever seen.
“Like the view?” Gojo teased, but he smirked as he grasped the base and held the twitching muscle still for you to admire some more. “You can admit it. Makes you wet, doesn’t it?” you shake your head in denial again, and this time, clench your thighs together as you feel the telltale damp patch growing against your panties. electricity buzzed through your veins, anxiety over being so close to your teacher’s cock driving you insane. “You’re a bad liar, baby. I’ll have to treat your little pussy the next time, let her feel me slide in slow and fill you up. But first…” as he speaks, Gojo’s voice takes a lazy, sexy dip, and he pulls you by the wiring in your bra again, tugging it just far enough away from your body to slip his cock underneath, nesting it into your cleavage with a happy sigh. “If I don’t fuck those tits, I’m going to lose my mind. So, do me a favor, pretty girl…” Gojo’s hips rock forward, worming his cock between your tits until the plump, pink tip pokes out, inches from your glossy lips. “Stick out your tongue, and drool like a sweet, little slut.”
“Y—you can’t do this—“ you whined, “you can’t m—make me do this…”
but his grip on your hair jerked your mouth closer to the twitching, thick tip. your eyes widened. your mouth was already watering, almost uncontrollably, now that you could smell his musk— the arousal that clung to his cock, so all you had to do was stick your tongue out as instructed, and saliva drip, drip, dripped down on to the head of his dick. your eyes closed, but only for a minute, because a cruel tug at your roots reminds you where you are.
“Open up those pretty eyes, slut.” he demands, though his voice still sounds chillingly lighthearted. “Don’t want you pretending this isn’t happening. That wouldn’t be any fun at all.”
his hips had began to buck wildly; he fell into a quick greedy rhythm and started to moan. he was still smiling. his head rolled on his shoulders, but he kept his eyes, concealed by his glasses, on you, too. watching how you were jerked around by his tempo like a rag doll, and listening to the whimpers and whines of protest, gazing at the way his cock had smeared your spit between your breasts, creating a slick canal that he could pound into, as fervently as he would treat your cunt one day. “Fuck,” he hissed, grinding his teeth, and spread his feet wider, to plant himself more firmly. “Fuck, that’s it…” while one hand held loosely on to the middle of your bra, pulling you into a bobbing motion that complimented his rough thrusting, the other started to push down on the top of your head, his voice raspy with need.
“Suck the tip, baby. Take me in that pretty pout of yours.” as soon as your lips parted, creating a cushion for his sensitive tip to lay on as the rubbed himself off with your chest, he groans and nods, “There you go, pretty girl. Been thinking about how good your mouth would feel. Give me all those sweet kisses.”
you have no choice but to comply as he shoves your head down on him, moaning and sighing, panting against the cock tip as it plugs your mouth, muffling your noises. your palms flee to press against his abdomen trying to push him away, but your strength was still no match for his.
your eyelids fluttered as the raw flavor of Gojo Satoru coated your tongue, overtaking your mouth and claiming it in his name. his taste was intoxicating, and you were fighting an addiction already.
you had to remind yourself that you didn’t want this. you didn’t want him. but it was becoming increasingly harder to resist.
it was as if Gojo could read your internal struggle scribbled on your features, and he liked the idea of you hating him violating you so much, but being unable to stop it from turning your brain to mush. “You’re so cute,” he grunted, pushing your head down further, his fingers combing through your roots as he does so, “saying I can’t make you do this, but the more cock I feed you, the more your eyes start to glaze over. Do you know that? You can’t even help yourself; you’re gonna get addicted to it. I like watching you break. Gonna make me cum so quick, I’m almost embarrassed.” he was smirking, his playful nature evident, but you weren’t laughing.
Gojo’s grip tightens, both on your bra and your hair, and he drags you back and forth so fast that you worry you’ll get whiplash, using you like a toy to get himself off of.
“Going to paint you so pretty, hell-“ he cums only moments later; his jest about not lasting quite so long seeming to be only half a joke, and his fingers grope your hair at the root, pulling your mouth off of him just in time to shoot white streamers of warm release over your cheeks and across your forehead. you gasp, utterly humiliated by the way his sticky cum clings to your hair and cheeks. “There ya go… good girl.” he croons, pulling you by the hair once again to smear your mouth against his cock. you purse your lips, and the spunk still dribbling down coats them.
“You’re an obstinate, little thing.” Gojo moans, but he’s grinning from ear to ear. “I fucking love it. Gonna have way too much fun breaking you down, turning you into my personal slut. Forcing you to like it the more cock I make you take.” he takes a deep breath, rubbing his throbbing tip over the shape of your lips, and you suppress a happy squeak as you finally taste him. “Do you like your grade?” he teases, and when you merely glare up at him, he uses his grip on your hair to pull your head back just a bit. you can feel his cum clinging to your cheeks, and excess rolling into your hairline and dripping down your chin. his glasses slid down and you were staring into those hypnotizing eyes again. tasting, smelling, feeling him all over. your core throbbed— desperate for his attention, and you hated him for it. “Say ‘thank you for treating me like a pretty, little cumrag, Gojo-sensei’. Say it, and I’ll mentor you.”
begrudgingly, with your eyes shooting daggers up at him, you part your lips to speak. you didn’t want to, but you also wanted to be taught by the best of the best, and as despicable as he was, he was also the best. “Th—thank you, Gojo-sensei…” you cringed with each syllable, knowing that you were essentially giving in. knowing that now, he would do whatever he wanted to you, and you couldn’t say no. “For treating me like a pretty, little cumrag…”
1K notes · View notes
tasteracha · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
professor bang
word count: 2.3k
warnings: unprotected sex, power imbalance (grad student x professor), multiple orgasms, chan calling the reader pet/good girl
synopsis: you laid out a perfectly crafted trap to seduce the hot professor - too bad he’s one step ahead of you.
the midday air is unsuspecting as you walk down the creaky hallway, floorboards of the psychology building groaning under your feet. the nerves are close to eating you up whole but you continue walking, too far into your plan to turn back now - you know what you want, and you’re going to get it. no one turns an eye as you walk past open doors, the hem of your dress swishing around your knees. they’re accustomed to seeing you here, being a graduate student in the department means you spend more time here than you do in your own apartment. 
you stop at one door in a series of identical ones, only told apart by a worn out plaque listing a room number and a shinier, newer one reading “christopher bang, ph.d.” underneath it.
the door is cracked just a bit, enough for you to peer inside and there he is, standing in front of his desk, wearing a crisp white shirt under a grayish-blue blazer. his pants are too tight to be suitable for a professor, and they cling to his thighs and stretch across his ass perfectly, making you pause in the doorway with a hungry stare that lasts for too many seconds. 
when you look up you meet his eyes and it makes you jump; you didn’t know that he knew you were there. this doesn’t fit in the plan.
the plan you cooked up when he got a little too cozy with you during the department holiday party last semester. the plan you’ve been making and scrapping and working yourself up to execute, avoiding him at every corner so that he wouldn’t know. you were supposed to surprise him, walk in pretending like you needed help with some assignment, getting closer and closer to him until your breaths were intermingling and then you’d look into his eyes and he would glance at your lips and-
and now he’s caught you checking him out like some kind of creep. 
“oh, hi y/n,” he says, eyes turning crinkly as he looks at you with a shit-eating grin. fuck.  
now that you’ve been found out, you slide inside the gap in the door, shutting it closed behind you and letting the lock click behind your back. if he notices, he doesn’t react, steady eyes trained on you as your feet take you closer and closer to his desk.
“hi professor bang,” you say, surprised by how clear your voice comes out. that’s good, you wouldn’t want him to know how nervous you are just yet, it would add to his smugness and you didn’t know if you could handle his ego being even bigger than it is right now. 
“what can i do for you?” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the desk. the blazer stretches over his shoulders and the material does nothing to hide his biceps and your mouth waters. he quirks an eyebrow at you when you don’t speak for a moment, and you have to clear your throat before any sound comes out.
“i needed some help with a research project,” you say, moving close enough to him that if anyone were to walk in they would absolutely report the both of you for some kind of ethical violation. good thing you locked the door, then. “i was hoping you could be of service.”
“oh?” he leans further back into the desk, fully relaxed in a way you wish you were. “what kind of project?”
“well, it has to do with human connection,” you trail a finger across the collar of his blazer, further down until it catches on a button, in a show of false confidence. “i was looking to maybe get some hands-on experience? for research, of course.”
you feel a swell of victory when his breath catches in his throat and his arms loosen from where they were crossed to drop at his side. 
“well i certainly am the expert in that domain,” he drawls, eyes flickering down to your lips and back up. “i did write my dissertation on it, after all.”
it’s a lie - you’ve read his dissertation, full of information about cognitive theory and eye movements and other things that honestly went way over your head. not a single mention of human connection was in that document, but the fact that he’s so readily playing along with you means that you didn’t misread anything. either he wants you, or he enjoys toying with you; either way, you were on board.
even more so when he takes his blazer off, throwing it off to the side like it didn’t cost him an aggressive amount of money to buy. you’ve seen the designer labels on him plenty of times enough to know he likes to treat himself to nice things. 
you’re hoping you can be his next nice thing, the next possession that he flaunts and parades around. 
you lean in for a kiss, but he surprises you and flips the both of you around until you’re backed up into the desk. he’s leaning over you, dark eyes looking down at you like you’re his prey. 
“let’s even the playing field a bit, shall we?” his voice has gone down, low and sultry, and you feel your head loll back from how it makes you feel. he makes quick work of removing your dress, letting the material pool to the floor so he could focus on your bra. it’s your favorite one, lacey and red and sexy, the material leaving nothing to the imagination. he takes a second to admire it, fingering at the strap around your shoulder and sliding his thumb into the cup before he reaches behind you and unhooks it in one try. it joins his blazer and your dress on the floor a moment later, and you’re left feeling exposed in front of him. 
“how is this even?” you ask, resisting the urge to cover yourself with your hands. “you’re still wearing all of your clothes.”
“well, sweetheart,” he starts, moving impossibly closer to you. “we’re in my office. that means i get to decide the rules, no?”
he swipes an arm across the table behind you before you can answer. papers flutter in the air, and he’s hiking you up onto the desk before they reach the ground. his hands are under your thighs, spreading them apart so he can fit between them. one of his hands snakes into the band of your underwear, your sensitive skin erupting in goosebumps from his touch.
“so wet,” he says, a smirk painting his face as his fingers part your folds to make slow circles around your clit. it shouldn’t be enough to send shivers up your spine, but it’s him, so it does.
“for you,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes. the amused glint in his eyes turns sharp, dark and possessive. just what you wanted. 
“this is mine?” he asks, cupping you in his hand while his other reaches around the small of your back to hold you close to him.
“yours,” you hum, nodding even though his attention certainly wasn��t on your head.
he dips his fingers inside of you, gliding easily inside from how his fingers are coated with your juices. when he crooks his fingers and thumbs at your clit your head tips back, and you might have lost your balance if he wasn’t holding you so close that you could feel his breath on your skin. 
it’s on your third time stumbling over the word professor that he leans into your ear and tells you to call him chris, his lips kissing your ear as he works you to your high. you’re shaking apart on his desk and yet he doesn’t relent, he continues to move his fingers with fervor until you can’t help but push at his chest to get him to stop. 
“chris,” you stutter out when he latches his lips to your neck, open mouthed and hot as his fingers move to grab at your thighs. his hands are so big, veins bulging as he digs his fingers in. you hope there are bruises there, tomorrow. and the next day. 
“gonna fuck you now, okay?” he says, voice husky. “for research.”
“yeah, research,” you breath out, using both your hands to cradle his face so that you could kiss him, finally. his lips are as soft as you imagined, plushy pillows that you could find yourself lost in for hours. he keeps his lips on yours as he moves your underwear down and off, helping you balance so he could slide it under your thighs until you’re bare in front of him. you’re unbuttoning his shirt with shaky fingers, and he chuckles against you when you can’t get one of them open.
“funny?” you break away from him, eyes trained on the way his lips are red and slick with spit. 
“you’re cute,” condescension lines his voice and a spark of anger runs through you at how he knows he has the upper hand. he gently takes your hands away from his clothes and makes quick work of them himself. in what feels like a split second, he’s stripped of his shirt and pants and he’s pulling down his boxers, revealing smooth planes of muscle and strong thighs and bulging arms that you’ve fantasized about for months. you don’t know if you want to cover them in bites or let him crush you with them more - there will be time for that, the next time. 
you know there’s going to be a next time if it’s already this good and he’s barely even done anything to you yet. 
he spreads your thighs apart further, and you don’t miss how he licks his lips at the view of your dripping cunt in front of him before he lines himself up at your entrance. you barely got a glimpse of his cock, but your mouth waters at the idea of it being inside of you. he glides his cock through your folds a few time, slicking himself up before pressing his head inside of you. 
when he bottoms out you can’t help but tighten your walls around him, helpless to the desires of your own body, and the groan he lets out makes you clench down even harder. 
“relax, pet,” he says, panting a bit. his thumb strokes at the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. “i’m going to take good care of you okay? but you need to relax for me.”
he leans down to kiss you again, and it must be a good enough distraction because he begins moving in time with the swipes of his tongue on your teeth. every time he rocks into you the air punches out of your lungs, you’re so full. he moves his face to the crook of your neck to hide his own labored breaths when he increases his pace, thrusting into you faster than you can keep up with. 
he’s pressing you into the desk with each movement of his hips, the sharp corner against your legs sending pricks of pain up to your head. the game is over, the research bit is done, now it’s just chris taking what he wants from you. you love it. his arms wrap around you, keeping you upright, and you latch onto him like a lifeline. you’re completely at his mercy, entirely submissive to the way he’s keeping you still so he can use you. 
you can tell he’s close when he pushes his head even further into your skin, fingers gripping your back and his movements becoming sharp and purposeful. he spills into you a second later with a bite to your neck, and you can’t help yourself from following him as your head tips back in pleasure. 
when he pulls out you wince, the emptiness that he’s left you with feeling worse than you’ve ever felt with anyone else. he lowers you onto the desk slowly, letting your head rest on his mousepad as he runs his hands up and down your sides in comforting sweeps. you’re utterly spent, two orgasms hitting your limit, even more intense coming from him. 
“one more,” he drawls out, not showing compassion at all for the way you’re panting and drooling onto his desk. “you can do one more for me, can’t you?”
“no, no, no,” your voice comes out thready and light, barely a sound. his hand returns to your core either way, slow circles of his fingers around your clit making your body twitch with each pass. the oversensitivity is too much, but you’re too weak to pull away from him. you don’t even know if you want to, anymore. 
“there’s my good girl,” he grins when you whine and rut down onto his hand. you didn’t know it was possible, but the coils in your lower belly start to tighten faster than before. you’re coming before you even realize it’s happening, pleasure seeping from your core to your fingertips, an all encompassing sensation that you can’t put words to. it lasts for what feels like forever, waves and waves of ecstasy rocking through your body until your vision blacks out for a moment. 
“you did so good,” he finally stops and you press your legs together to stop him from returning. he’s pressing kisses to your body, your thighs and your stomach up to your neck and cheeks as he mumbles praises into your skin. his hand runs through your hair, pushing the sweaty locks that were stuck to your forehead out of the way so he could press a final, sweet kiss to your forehead. “so good for me. so pretty, my precious pet.”
and even as he takes care of you, cleans you up and helps you back into your clothes and feeds you water, you’re holding back a smirk. because he thinks he has the upper hand, he thinks he won, but you can guarantee that he’ll be knocking at your door before the week is over.
3K notes · View notes
luv4fushi · 3 months
Note
omfg i litr read everything uve written off ur masterlist I NEED MOREEEE. i love the way u write megumi especially, i couldn’t get enough of it. i hope you write more of him, my heart aches for more tbh 🥹 tysm for being such a good writer and feeding us starved readers well
tysm! i'm sooo glad i can be a good source of megumi content for you >_< i looove writing megumi so you'll be seeing sooo much more of him, dw! happy holidays!
this december
jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader
it’s always colder on your own, especially around this time of year. you should be at home, bundled up with a warm cup of hot chocolate, but here you are in shinjuku, exorcizing curses with your ex boyfriend two weeks after your breakup with him. great.
content: post break up, aged up megumi (19/20), megumi is terrible at feelings, getting back together, fluff if you squint, a bit of angst, miscommunication, one bed (but it isn’t the main plot point sorry), megumi calls you baby like once, gojo is the best wingman, SHIBUYA ARC NEVER HAPPENED AND LIFE IS GOOD, not proofread im very sorry guys pls forgive me, kinda a word dump sry
word count: 5.8k (sigh this was supposed to be 2k words max)
click on my masterlist for more & merry christmas to those who celebrate!
Tumblr media
it’s december 19th when satoru gojo tells you that he has a mission just for you. you’re less than ecstatic about it to say the least. the last thing you want to do is be sent to your death just shy of christmas day. you just want to rest your sore muscles and bask in the presence of your best friends. you’re not in the mood to kill any curses, mainly because you’ve just recovered from a previous mission.
“why me?” you groan.
gone are the days where you used to be a goody two shoes for satoru. you’re old enough to talk back now, not like when you had been a shy fifteen-year-old girl. besides, you’ve been around the silver-haired sorcerer long enough to know that he doesn’t mind the bite.
“sorry, kid,” satoru says with a shrug. at least he sounds genuine about it. “the higher ups requested for you specifically. they say you’ll get the job done in the cleanest way. we can’t have things getting messy before the holidays, right?”
“and you wouldn’t be the best choice?” you quip.
satoru only laughs. he ruffles your hair. even with your growth spurt and merciless training, he still towers over you. in a way, he’ll always be your mentor. “hey, i’m going out of town that weekend. give me a break.”
you huff petulantly. something about this mission seems fishy to you. you’re not nearly the strongest sorcerer out of the bunch of kids under satoru’s wings (not that you guys are kids anymore, but sometimes it’s hard to feel otherwise). hell, there’s the kyoto students. it feels like they never have to do anything. you wish that you were rebellious enough to chew utahime out for it.
“why couldn’t they just make yuta or megumi go?” you mutter under your breath. you stammer out megumi’s name and hope satoru doesn’t catch on to the way you can barely say it.
satoru knows about the breakup. why wouldn’t he? he’s basically megumi’s dad, even if the raven haired boy refuses to admit it. satoru’s six eyes mean you can’t hide anything from him (he’d been the first to know that megumi was head over heels for you).
satoru raises a brow. “oh, right. megumi’s coming along too.”
your face twists and you immediately whip around to glare at him. “you’re lying.”
“i wish,” he jokes. “i was really hoping i’d get a wedding invitation one day, you little rascal. i can’t believe you two broke up. maybe this’ll be a good thing!”
“i appreciate your honesty, but—”
“but megumi’s an emotionally constipated kid, yeah, that i know,” satoru laughs. he makes his way to the exit of his office which has you furrowing your brows. is your former teacher actually gonna just leave after making you come all the way here? how rude and so very in character of him.
“please, gojo,” you call out after him, “i don’t wanna go with him.”
“sucks for you,” satoru responds halfheartedly. “merry christmas. try not to take more than a week on this. you’ll have to pay the rest of the fee for accommodations if you do.”
“gojo!” you whine.
“it’s not a hard mission!” satoru insists like it’ll make your life any easier. “y’know, this time of year is when things get ugly. think of it as saving as many people as you can while putting in the least amount of effort!”
and then he teleports. your former teacher teleports away rather than being normal and walking out of the door. you roll your eyes and hope that he can sense it (you know he can’t).
so that’s why you’re here now. with your ex. on the elevator to your assigned room on the tenth floor. you’re so glad that it’s a normal hotel and not a love hotel. lord knows what you’d do if you had checked into a love hotel.
megumi hasn’t spoken a word to you since he broke up with you two weeks ago. it had been in the doorway to your apartment a few days after a particularly rough mission assigned to the both of you—the one you’re still recovering from. he’d pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet words into your ear. he gave you a look, one of those looks that made him soften his usually sharp eyes.
“i think we should break up.”
and then came the pathetic whimper of yours. he had wiped your tears, even kissed them tenderly, before telling you that it wasn’t your fault—it was his. how cliche.
now as you stand next to him, you want to beat yourself up for not asking for closure. neither of you had explicitly stated that you two were going to be no-contact, but it hurts a lot less to push the idea of forever with megumi away to the back of your mind. besides, you two aren’t confrontational like that. not with each other, anyway.
“need help?” his tone is soft, tender—the tone he reserves specifically for you, the one that tells you he still cares.
you stare down at the luggage at your feet. you’ve always been a chronic overpacker, a habit that megumi knows of by now. he watches you curiously, hands itching at his sides. you can tell that he wants to reach out and grab your suitcase like he always does. he thinks he isn’t obvious, but you can always read through the lines, especially when it’s megumi.
“i’m okay,” you croak out, clearing your throat awkwardly.
the elevator dings and you make your way to your room. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re sort of glad that you and your ex boyfriend are sharing a room. perhaps his’ll be a good way to get closure, though you’re not really sure what closure entails.
what you don’t expect is to unlock the door and be met with a singular bed.
if satoru gojo didn’t have a layer of infinity coating his body (and if he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive), you would’ve wrung out his neck.
megumi simply walks into the room, setting his duffel bag down on one of the dressers opposite from the foot of the bed. he doesn’t comment on the lack of double beds, seemingly already aware of the set up.all he does is puff out a weary sigh. you suck in a breath and follow him inside, slipping your shoes off at the entrance.
you lug your suitcase in after you along with your duffel bag and backpack. you stumble forward and megumi’s arm snakes around your waist, steadying you.
“careful,” he mutters, nonchalantly taking your bag off our your shoulders.
it’s a quick series of movements; he swings your bag over his shoulders and places it on the dresser next to the one he’s claimed while guiding you softly to the side of the bed so that you’re not standing in the middle of the doorway.
you scrunch your face, feeling your heart thump against your ribcage. it’s stupid how he still has such a hold on you, even after two weeks of not seeing or talking to him. he’s just so caring, so gentle. it stings, like little the little cuts you get when fighting curses, when you realize that this is something you’ll have to learn how to lose.
“thanks,” you manage to mutter. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else. you know from the way your throat tightens that you’ll be crying soon if you force yourself to talk any more.
“i can take the couch,” megumi says.
it’s that easy with him; he’s a gentleman, so of course he’d take the couch. that’s the way megumi fushiguro is—he offers a solution before you even have the chance to complain. in your year and a half long relationship, that skill of his had been a saving grace.
“no, don’t bother,” you croak. “i’ll book another room.”
“really?” he asks. he stands up a little straighter, awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, i don’t mind sharing a room with you… we’ve..”
we’ve shared a room countless of times before.
megumi doesn’t have to continue his sentence for you to understand what he’s implying. you part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out except for a long, heavy sigh. your shoulders drop as you let the exhaustion seep into your bones. there’s no use arguing about it, not when you don't’ mind sharing a room with megumi, either.
“we’ve broken up,” you remind him in a quiet voice, like you’re afraid saying it out loud will make it truer than it already is.
megumi pauses. you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “i know that, but … it’ll be fine. we’ve shared a room as friends before.”
he’s right, like he usually is. you two have shared a room before as just friends, but that had been as teenagers—back when you both harbored such hardcore crushes on each other that you two somehow didn’t notice.
“right,” you find yourself agreeing with a small nod.
“you should go get ready for bed.” megumi begins grabbing a few or the decorative pillow off of the bed. he places them gingerly on the brown couch tucked in the corner of the hotel room. “we’ll be getting up pretty early to deal with the brunt of the mission.”
to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you think.
and so you oblige and head to the bathroom. it’s december 19th, just a few days shy of christmas day, and you’re in bed with your ex boyfriend on the couch just a few feet away.
december 20th greets you with megumi hovering over you. he peers down at you with his messy bangs covering his eyes. they’re piercingly blue as he blinks. his lashes flutter perfectly, even in the early morning. your eyes meet his and you jolt awake.
“good morning,” he says. “your alarm has been ringing for a bit now, so i turned it off.”
you blink rapidly, getting the tiredness out of your eyes. “oh.”
he chuckles softly, just enough for you to catch it with your ears. he rises from his crouched position and heads to the front door. he spares you a glance over his shoulder before he heads out, presumably giving you the privacy you need. you let out a strangled breath before you swing your legs over the bed and head to the bathroom.
by the time you’re finished putting on your uniform, you swing the door to your hotel room open and see megumi leaned up against the wall, tapping away on his phone. his dark blue eyes flicker up to you and he turns away to head down the hall.
you furrow your brows. you can’t help but think that he’s being a little cold to you. it isn’t like you initiated the breakup. despite your frustration with his behavior, you can sort of understand why he wouldn’t want to be sweet around you; you two aren’t dating anymore and so it makes sense that he’d go back to being aloof in your presence, the usual way he acts around everyone else. losing that position in his life makes your stomach churn for reasons you’re less than willing to uncover.
your mission is a vague one; all you know is that it’s a clean-up mission. rather than a level 1 curse (or even a special grade), the mission consists of an acclimation of weak curses surrounding shinjuku. these missions are normally given to younger, more inexperienced sorcerers with the help of a senior sorcerer, but for an odd reason, it’s been given to you and megumi this year. megumi could’ve probably handled it himself. actually, you could’ve handled it yourself.
you bite your tongue to hold back on your complaints as you walk just a step behind megumi. he pauses regularly, waiting for you to catch up to his side. you roll your eyes in secret. does he not realize that you don’t want to walk next to him?
“it’s all just bars,” you mutter.
with that, you earn a tiny laugh from megumi. “well, yeah. this is the red-light district of shinjuku.”
you pale. “this sucks.”
“why do you think i wanted to come out here in the morning rather than at night?” he says, his tone strangely light.
“to deal with the brunt of the mission,” you repeat his words from last night sarcastically. you’re unsure as to what he’s talking about, so you think that it’s okay to give him a little bit of attitude.
he raises his brow but doesn’t comment on your sarcasm. instead, he says softly, “no, stupid. it’s because this is the red-light district. it’s unsafe for anyone, especially a pretty, young girl alone at night.”
your first thought is to coo and tease him. you think i’m pretty? it takes you half a second to remember that you two are broken up. you scoff, “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”
“i never said you weren’t,” megumi shoots back. “it would just be annoying explaining to the higher ups why you were fighting people and not curses.”
“i’m sure they’d understand,” you retort, frowning. you cross your arms.
“don’t be so pouty,” he says in that stupid, gentle tone he uses with you when you’re acting bratty.
you both decide to split up. well, it’s more like you demand the two of you to split up. you say it under the pretense that it’ll get the job done faster. besides, you both want to be home before christmas day, right?
there’s about two curses you cross paths with every hour. you’re starting to lose your mind. shouldn’t the streets be infested with them? you don’t even need a veil! all you have to do is give the weak curses just one punch and they vaporize on the spot. your head is running with hundreds of thoughts.
that’s when it hits you: the first years at the tokyo jujutsu school did come out here a week prior! maybe they did a bad job? but you remember nobara had been the one to lead the group. she may half-ass almost everything in her life, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her underclassmen for the sake of her freetime.
so why on earth are you here? it’s not like there are enough harmful curses for a mission to be assigned to you right before christmas, and to you and megumi of all sorcerers. you’re both strong enough to the point of having some kind of importance in the jujutsu world. the higher ups wouldn’t send the two of you on some stupid mission for the sake of it unless they’re planning some sort of secret execution. but even then, satoru gojo should’ve known through their lies to not send you or megumi. unless…he wants you two dead…?
you shake your head and bite your nails. the sun begins to set and you realize that you’ve been out here for longer than you expected. you’re starting to feel a chill in your bones—you had argued petulantly with megumi earlier about not wanting to wear your jacket despite it being the dead of winter; “it’s gonna get in the way!”
you always seem to forget the the sun sets earlier in the winter. it’s stupid how bright all the lights are in shinjuku. there isn’t a square foot of anything that isn’t lit up with neon signs reading out the names of clubs and bars. you see couples and large groups of people walking along the streets.
it’s lonely, you realize. it would’ve been less lonely with megumi.
you make your way to the meeting spot with megumi. you both share a few small words before retiring for the night. megumi says he wants to go sightseeing, even though there’s really nothing much to see. he doesn’t return to the hotel room until late at night.
when he slips into the only bed that the room offers, you chalk it up to the slight alcohol you smell on his lips. it feels so natural that you don’t push him away even though you should. his body is warm and you fit so perfectly against his broad chest that you think it’ll be okay for you to be a little selfish tonight.
“g’night,” megumi mumbles in his sleep.
you smile and nuzzle closer.
it’s december 21st as you realize how late it is in the day. megumi is back on the couch. you feel a tinge of disappointment in the bottom of your stomach.
to no one’s surprise, the sun is barely peeking over the buildings when you’re finally back in the red-light district. you’re doing the last bit of cleanup, but there’s really nothing much for you to clean.
tomorrow, you’ll be heading to a shopping mall, so you suppose you should do your best to sniff out the rest of the curses littering the place unless you want to stay here an extra day. the day is, yet again, slow.
it’s nearing 8 PM and you're finally sure that you’ve gotten rid of all the curses in the general area. you’ve been done for quite a while now, but you just haven’t found the courage to let megumi know that you’re ready to go back to the hotel room. a little sightseeing on your end wouldn’t hurt, right?
“hi, pretty.” a gravelly voice, battered by cigarettes, whispers in your ear.
you jump in surprise. you need to remember not to get too far into your head. you should’ve felt his presence coming from a mile away. it’s a terrible habit and satoru has scolded you for years about it.
“hi,” you mutter, pushing past his larger frame.
the man isn’t as nicely built as the men you know (but then again, your friends are jujutsu sorcerers, so it’s kind of hard to beat that), but he still towers over you. he’s got a squad of rough-looking guys behind him, smirking down at you.
“why’s someone like you alone?” he says, shoving his arm to loop around your waist.
you roll your eyes, getting ready to punch the man square in the nose. will you get in trouble? probably yes. will it be a funny story to tell? also probably yes.
“don’t touch my wife.”
the group of men turn their heads along with you to see megumi. his expression is shrouded with a mixture of anger and frustration. you blink in confusion—megumi usually looks pretty pissed off, but this is the most angry you’ve seen him in a while. and ‘wife’? what’s up with that?
“oh, my bad,” the man chuckles. “didn’t know this pretty thing was married.”
“this ‘pretty thing’ wants you to let her go,” you say with an overly sweet smile. your teeth clench and you hiss, “right now.”
the guy scurries down the sidewalk with his buddies trailing along, making fun of him for hitting on a married woman. nobody mentions the lack of a ring on your finger. nobody mentions the lack of a relationship, either.
“wife?” you scowl. “we’re broken up.”
“guys tend to back up when they know a woman is married. it’s the only way you can really, uh, get them to go away around here.”
you glare at him. “and how would you know? you come here often with girls?”
“...no?” he blinks, unable to comprehend your sudden burst of jealousy. “i sometimes get missions around here, though. pretending to be married was the easiest way—”
“we aren’t, though. we’re not even in a relationship.” you seem to be throwing that into his face a lot more than you should. you can’t help it, though. you still feel a little bitter about not getting a real reason as to why megumi wanted to break up.
“i was trying to help you.” he’s calm and collected, as heard through his voice. he walks up to you and takes your freezing hand into his much warmer ones. “let’s go home.”
“i don’t want to,” you argue.
“stop being a brat,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words. “you’re cold and you’ve been out here all day. if i hadn’t stopped those guys, you probably would’ve beat them up pretty badly.”
“i’m not a fucking brat!” you try to retract your hand, but megumi’s grip only tightens.
“baby, stop,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. megumi sighs softly and pulls you to his chest. “why are you so worked up, hm?”
from the way he speaks, you can tell that he already has an inkling. the breakup. cuddling last night. hugging you now. everything.
you don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes his thumb under your eye. he has the audacity to have an amused grin plastered on his stupidly pretty lips. your vision is blurry but if it hadn’t been, you would’ve thrown a punch.
“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “it’s all my fault.”
“it is,” you whimper pathetically. all the tears and the emotions you’ve been holding back bubble up to the surface.
“don’t be upset,” he almost pleads. “let’s go back, okay?”
the night ends with megumi on the couch. neither of you bring up the argument or the fact that he had slept in your bed with you last night. you two don’t talk about the usage of pet names, either.
when you open your eyes on december 22nd, you’re surprised to see that megumi has already headed out for the day. you click your tongue in annoyance—he’s always been good at avoiding his problems when it comes to dealing with them, especially problems involving his emotions. you already know where you’re supposed to be headed, so you suppose that it’s for the best that he’d left before you.
the shopping mall is a long line of vendors and stores among other things. the snow on the ground is fresh—it must’ve snowed late last night after you’d fallen asleep. it crunches underneath your beat-up sneakers with each step you take. you’re not shocked when you end up wandering aimlessly, dipping in and out of stores with no real urgency to finish your mission.
there’s nothing to do anyway.
you’ve killed about 3 curses total and it’s really starting to look like you’ve been sent out here for busy work. you really should’ve figured that out the first day of the mission when you had to practically beg the curses to come out and fight you.
you find yourself in the front of a jewelry store, eyeing a pretty bracelet that you know would look stunning around megumi’s wrist. it’s one of those bracelets that clasp tightly. there’s a thicker band in the center with pretty carvings that seem to resemble some sort of swirly heart. it’s pretty, you have to admit.
without much thought, you buy the gift.
the seller has to clear her throat to get your attention when you don’t answer her question. “um, would you like this to be wrapped?”
you nod absentmindedly. “oh, yes. sorry. please wrap it.”
she nods in return and proceeds to wrap the bracelet in a tiny box, adorning it with a festive bow. you ask her to change it out for a different color, explaining that it isn’t a christmas gift and instead, it’s for someone’s birthday. she offers you a warm smile before switching it with a muted blue ribbon.
you return to the hotel, having to take an expensive taxi. you don’t mind—the bracelet has already made a decent-sized dent in your wallet. why not spend an extra amount on getting home? it’s not like jujutsu sorcerers are paid poorly.
reality hits you when you finally get back to the hotel room. you want to punch yourself for being so stupid. did you really just buy a birthday present for your ex-boyfriend?
you’re thankful that megumi hasn’t arrived yet. he seems to be determined to avoid you for as long as he can. you can’t blame him, either. you did give him quite a hard time yesterday.
you toss the box on to the dresser and head to the bathroom to splash some much needed cold water on to your face. maybe that’ll wake you up enough to clear your mind. you’ve acted out once during this trip already and you’re not really looking forward to any other possible outbursts.
you rinse your face and pat yourself dry with one of the face towels provided to you by the hotel staff. you hang it over the rack again and tiredly make your way to your bed. you halt your movements when you see megumi standing by the dresser, admiring your gift.
he looks up at you in surprise with the smallest grin on his face. it’s so subtle that you would’ve missed it had you not been dating him for nearly two years.
“is this for me?”
“no,” you quickly deny. his face falls and you cough out, “um, i mean.. yeah. i-i didn’t… i… happy birthday.”
he brightens, lips pulling up into a real, genuine smile. “you remembered?”
“why wouldn’t i?” you blurt gently. you bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more.
“i dunno.” his voice is distant and low, like he’s trying to hold back his tears. “i just…i didn’t think i was deserving of a gift from you. thank you. i like it.”
you stand awkwardly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “yeah, well…”
“can you help me put it on?” he asks, sitting at the edge of your unmade bed.
you feel your body heat up. part of you screams for you to stop. you shouldn’t do that. it’s far too intimate and you two are broken up. you’ve never been good at making decisions, though, so you sit next to him and feel the mattress dip.
he gives you a grateful look, one that you willfully ignore, and gives you his wrist. you clasp the bracelet on, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. your heart skips a beat and you have to inhale sharply before pulling away.
“thank you,” he whispers.
december 23rd is a sore reminder that life goes on. you had half-expected something to spark between you and megumi. perhaps he’d beg for you back, or maybe with less wishful thinking, he’d give you his real reason as to why he doesn’t want you anymore.
“i don’t think we need to go anymore,” megumi says when you come out of the bathroom after freshening up.
“huh? why not?”
“there’s nothing out there.” megumi’s voice is flat.
“i know, but we’ll get in trouble if we…”
“gojo probably sent us out here for fun.”
your lips part. megumi turns to you with a slight frown.
“don’t you think so too?” he asks, but you know it isn’t a question he’s looking to find an answer to. “why would the higher-ups assign a mission like this to a special grade sorcerer and a grade 1 sorcerer? if they needed that much manpower, this mission would’ve been deadlier. instead, we’re playing cleanup crew.”
“yeah, but..” you trail off, unable to think of a statement to refute his words. “if we go back now, we’ll get chewed out.”
“it’s just a scolding. you’ll be fine.” megumi stands up and stretches his arms.
you watch him cautiously as he begins to fold his clothes and throw them into his duffel bag. he doesn’t say anything else, letting the silence overtake the room.
“...are we leaving, then?” you ask meekly, not bothering to hide the slight quiver in your voice.
he pauses slightly. “do you want to stay here until christmas? this mission is stupid and you know it. there’s no point.”
why is his tone so cold all of the sudden? it’s as if you two hadn’t shared a moment last night before bed. does your gift not mean anything to him now that he’s cleared his mind with a good rest?
your eyes flicker to his wrist. the gold glimmers underneath the light and you realize that megumi doesn’t seem to hate wearing it. so why is he acting so … unpleasant?
you feel a lump in your throat. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to upset you from just the tone of his voice. even his body language, usually fluid and smooth, is rigid with your presence. you want to tell him that you’ve enjoyed your time with him. you want to shake his shoulders and tell him that if you two cut your mission short, you might not get another chance to be near him again.
“do you still care about me?” you whisper instead.
he stills completely. “what?”
“this entire time,” you begin shakily, “you’ve been nice to me. you treat me like you always do. you’re always hovering over me even though you pretend you aren’t! you obviously still care, megumi.”
his adam's apple bobs as swallows. a beat of silence. then two. then three.
“i do care,” he admits sorely.
“then why did you break up with me?” you blurt. there it is, the question you’ve been meaning to ask. you both had seen it coming.
“because…” megumi winces as if he’s the one getting hurt from the ordeal. “because you deserve someone that’s normal. someone that isn’t a sorcerer. i can’t give you that life.”
you feel your chest swarm with anger. why does he always think he needs to sabotage himself to make others happy? this is something you’ve tried working with him on, but it seems like old habits are hard to kill off, just like your habit of loving him.
“why the hell would you decide that for me? when did i ever say i wanted a normal life?” you snap. your hands clench at your sides.
“it’s too early for this,” he says, his voice straining as he finally musters up the strength to look at you in your eyes.
“tell me, megumi. if that’s the real reason, then that is the most pathetic excuse for a breakup i've ever heard.” your voice cracks and you gulp down the oncoming sob that’s threatening to explode from your throat.
he inhales slowly and makes his way to you, holding you close against his chest. you should push him away, but you would rather let him hug you. you know that you can’t fight him, anyway.
“you…once said you wanted a regular relationship. when you got hurt a few weeks ago, i realized i couldn’t be that for you,” he confesses lowly. “i knew that you’d never find it in yourself to leave, so i figured i should just let you go for your sa–”
“are you kidding me?” you shout incredulously. “i said that when i was fifteen, megumi! before i even knew what being in love was like!”
he flinches against you. “but i…”
“you and your damn savior complex! i don’t need to be in a regular, normal relationship! i don’t need any of that, megumi! i’m a sorcerer, I won't ever get to be normal! in fact, it’s even better that i’m with you because you at least know what this life is like, you idiot! you’re always ruining the good things in your life because you—”
he takes his fingers to grab your chin and he pulls you in for a kiss. if the kiss is a ploy to shut you up, you hate to admit that it’s working. his tongue slips into your mouth and you melt against him. your arms loop around his neck as you desperately drag him down closer to your body. his hand grip your waist while the other clings to the small of your back.
you whimper out of instinct and he pulls away, lips bruised and breathless. it’s been so long since you’ve tasted him and you frown, tiptoeing to capture his lips again. you need to savor him, to feel him lips against yours again.
“baby, wait.” his chest heaves as he looks down at you. “don’t…don’t do this to me.”
“do what?” you ask, an edge to your voice. did he just reject you? even after all that?
“w-we gotta report back to—”
“we’re supposed to leave tomorrow,” you interrupt.
the gears shift in his head. “fine, but—”
“i’m still really fucking mad, but i just need you to kiss me right now,” you whine impatiently.
all megumi does is laugh when he swoops down to press his lips against yours.
it’s december 24th when you two find yourselves in satoru’s office. steam is practically rising from your ears as you try to compose yourself in front of your former teacher.
“... i wanted a wedding invitation.” satoru shrugs.
“you set us up!” you whine angrily. “gojo, are you serious?! isn’t this a little immature?”
megumi stays silent, averting his gaze. he suddenly finds the succulents on satoru’s desk very interesting. he’s never noticed that they’re all nearly dead! how cool.
your eyes shoot daggers at megumi's silence.
"we aren't gonna get married any time soon..." megumi mutters when he feels your pointy glare on him.
satoru raises his hands in mock surrender. “you two can’t blame me! it worked out! you two are back together now, right?”
“but did you have to make us look like fools out there?” you groan.
“you should’ve figured it out on the first day that the mission was a sham!” satoru exclaims, offense taking over his features.
“but still!” you’re borderline hysterical at this point, unable to believe that your former teacher of all people had to set up an entire fake mission so that you and your ex could talk your feelings out. “we would’ve figured ourselves out sooner or later!”
megumi nods. he feels like he should at least give you a little support even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.
“oh really?” satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm. “you guys should be thanking me—”
“you’re so not getting an invitation to our wedding!” you grumble.
“wha—hey! i’m the one that got you two back together! besides, i’m megumi’s guardian! you can’t just not invite me.”
“watch me!”
“megumi, tell her that she can’t do that—hey! where are you guys going? invite me, you rascals—why are you guys leaving? we aren’t done discussing this! megumi, don’t you dare take her side! she isn’t even your wife yet—don’t slam my door!”
773 notes · View notes
whatsk-poppinhomies · 28 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing : Han Jisung x F!Reader TW : anonymous friends to lovers type beat ; physical fighting ; reader is bullied ; angst ; fluffy ending ; Word Count : 8.9k A/N : Haven't even started writing this one yet but I know it's gonna take a bit, I hope the wait is worth it!! I hope that this is good! I kind of changed things a little bit, but I feel like it's still good... right? It has a k-drama feel to it... Not proof read!! Request : Anonny : Hello! If your requests are open can you write something for skz han? Where han is a popular person that everyone likes and he doesn't know the identity of reader but they are able to have really nice conversations. He thinks he found the person he's been talking to and starts dating them and reader agrees to help the person with talking to him. But han actually starts talking to reader and realizes that they were the person he fell in love with. Reader didn't tell him their true identity bc they were told he could never love someone like them. I hope that makes sense.
An anonymous chat room… What could possibly go wrong? It had started as a way for other students to get help with certain subjects without the judgment of their peers over not knowing enough. Soon enough, like most things, it had completely lost its original reason for being made, and now it was being used for anything but studying. There were chat rooms for dissing people, chat rooms for hooking up, and then there was the more… safe chat rooms, for people that were just lonely and wanting to talk, people that were too awkward or shy to have conversations face to face. Everyone had an online identity that no one else knew about… A different persona… It was scary… But sometimes it was nice to just… Talk to someone. 
JiHizzy : Hey! You online? 
Your phone vibrated with the message, and you couldn’t help but smile at the familiar sound of the notification. You had been talking to him for weeks now, and it was the one part of your day that you truly looked forward to. 
JustAnotherGirl : Yeah! What’s up?
JiHizzy : Finally got back to my dorm. I was trying to study for finals…
JustAnotherGirl : I’m gonna guess that didn’t work out for you? 
JiHizzy : Crazily enough, I ended up at the bar instead of the library. 
JustAnotherGirl : I don’t know how you could possibly get the two confused lol
JiHizzy : It’s a friday night, I don’t think anyone was at the library. Weren’t you at the bar too? It was packed. 
JustAnotherGirl : Mm… Nope! I don’t really party like that, I was too busy studying for my finals. 
JiHizzy : Ooh, the innocent type? I like that.
JustAnotherGirl : Are you flirting with me? 
JiHizzy : I might be… You know the acronym of your username is jag… all you need is I and you’d be jagi to me. 
JustAnotherGirl : That must be the alcohol talking…
JiHizzy : Not at all. You’re just my type. I really want to meet you.
JustAnotherGirl : Oh, would you look at the time? We should get some sleep! Goodnight! 
While it was supposed to stay an anonymous chat room, some people were just too popular to stay hidden longer than the first week. One of those people was JiHizzy, better known as Han Jisung, the most popular guy on campus simply because of his looks. All of the girls wanted him, and all of the guys wanted to be him. He was the top of the totem pole, and that put you at the very bottom. 
If the two of you were to walk past each other on campus, he wouldn’t even spare you a passing glance… But with the promise of anonymity, you were able to talk to him every night. You were able to know what it felt like to be liked by someone like him. You could never meet him though, if he found out who you really were… He’d stop talking to you immediately. You didn’t want to lose him… Even if you didn’t truly have him. 
///
JiHizzy : Are you in class right now? 
In the silence of the classroom, the vibration of your phone was much louder than you thought it would be. Everyone turned to look in your direction, and you quickly grabbed your phone and placed it on your lap, hoping that if another message came in, it would be silent. 
JiHizzy : I know you are, you’re such a good girl… WAIT DOES THAT SOUND WEIRD!? I’M SORRY!! 
JiHizzy : I was just thinking that maybe… Maybe you could tell me what class you’re in…
JiHizzy : And I could get a glimpse of you… Or who I think is you… I just want to have a face to go with the name…
You held in your sigh as you felt your phone vibrate incessantly against your lap, chewing on your bottom lip as you attempted to focus on your studies, but it seemed like he wouldn’t let up unless you responded. 
JiHizzy : PLEASE!! 
JustAnotherGirl : Why is it so important? I like being anonymous… I like talking to you…
JiHizzy : Because I like you, and I can’t stop thinking about you, and I want to daydream about you…
JiHizzy : But it’s kind of hard to daydream about someone if I don’t know what they look like.
JustAnotherGirl : Well, daydream about what you think I look like. It’s probably better than how I really look anyway. 
JiHizzy : You’re talking like I’ll stop messaging you or stop liking you if I meet you…
JiHizzy : You don’t think I’m that kind of person… Do you? 
JustAnotherGirl : I don’t know who you are… But it’s just easier like this for me… 
JiHizzy : Alright alright
JiHizzy : I’m sorry if I upset you…
JiHizzy : But hey! I heard that they’re releasing an update soon where we can actually talk to each other on the phone!
JustAnotherGirl : Can’t people tell who other people are by their voice? 
JiHizzy : Idk… But I want to call you when it comes out. Can we at least do that?
JustAnotherGirl : Maybe… I’ll think about it… I have to study now. So do you! 
JiHizzy : Right! Okay, I’ll message you later! 
He daydreamed about you… He thought about you… You wondered what this image looked like, the girl that he thought you were. You were sure that it looked nothing like you, and it was better that way. He was so popular, you didn’t want to tarnish his image if he was even seen talking with you, let alone walking beside you… although you were sure that something like that would never happen. 
///
When the call feature was released, everyone was so excited. People were testing it out as soon as their apps updated… But you were dreading it. Texting guaranteed staying anonymous, but hearing someone's voice, even if they didn’t know what you looked like, a voice was a way to identify someone. Even Jisungs voice, anyone and everyone could tell it was him coming if they heard him talking. His voice was distinct, it was his and his only. You didn’t know how distinct your voice would be, and the only thing you had going for you was the fact that you didn’t talk much at all. 
A time that you’d usually be counting down to now had your stomach twisted up into knots, your knees folded up against your chest as you tried to think of anything but the inevitable phone call that you knew he would ask for. “What’s got you all worked up?” Your roommate asked as she walked into your room. As if things couldn’t get any worse, she just had to be back in at a normal hour. 
Of course you had gotten paired up to dorm with the most popular girl on campus, it was just another way of lifes mysterious twists and turns supposedly. She was absolutely ruthless, and while you had asked to have your room changed at the beginning of every semester, it miraculously could never be done. As if college wasn’t hard enough, having to reside with her was just added stress. 
“Fine. Ignore me. I didn’t want to talk to you anyway.” She mumbled, dropping down onto the ridiculously large and disgustingly luxurious bed that took up almost the entirety of her half of the room. She was rich, of course she was, and she took every opportunity to flaunt her wealth to everyone on campus, and you were no exception, you just got the brunt of it. 
“I’m gonna take a shower real quick… Do you have to use the bathroom before I get in?” You asked, keeping your head down so she didn’t look at you like the peasant that you knew she thought you were. She scoffed loudly, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw her flick her wrist in the direction of the bathroom. 
JiHizzy : You awake? Don’t tell me you’re sleeping already! 
JiHizzy : You haven’t been online in 3 hours! Come onnnnn!
JiHizzy : Are you ignoring me?!?!?! :( 
JiHizzy : Did I do something… Say something wrong? 
JiHizzy : Ahhh… Maybe you are sleeping… Okay 
JiHizzy : Goodnight! Sleep well!!
You never took your phone into the bathroom with you, not just because it seemed unsanitary or unhygienic, you also couldn’t afford to potentially drop it on the tile floor and bust the screen. Maybe you should have, but again, you didn’t think that your roommate would go through your phone. You were pretty sure that she wouldn’t even touch something that belonged to you. You had never been more wrong. 
The vibrating of your phone had caught her attention, and maybe if it had only gone off once she would have ignored it, but Jisung was a spam texter. “Hmm…” She hummed to herself as she snatched your phone off the nightstand, and her curiosity quickly turned to annoyance when she saw just who had been texting you. “No way… There’s no way!” She shrieked, glaring at your phone. 
As the story goes, the popular guy should automatically be with the popular girl… that’s how it always goes! She wouldn’t allow something like this to happen… It just couldn’t. She was being a good person, she had to look out for Jisungs reputation, that’s what it was. Luckily everything was anonymous, you were anonymous… He wouldn’t have to be embarrassed to like you… He wouldn’t even have to know it was you. 
“What are you doing?” She was still holding your phone as you walked out of the bathroom, and your stomach dropped as you thought about what she could have been doing to your phone. Why would she even have it. “Look… I don’t touch your stuff, please don’t touch mine.” You mumbled as you scurried over to grab your phone out of her hand. 
“Jesus, don’t have a tantrum.” She muttered, rolling her eyes as she turned her attention back to her own phone. “Maybe you should silence your notifications before leaving your phone unattended.” Her words only worried you more, prompting you to check what she could have been talking about, and you could feel the anxiousness creeping up further and further until it had taken you over completely. 
She had seen the notifications, and you’d be a fool to think that she didn’t know exactly who it was that was messaging you. Would she tell him? It would be absolutely humiliating, it would destroy you, you couldn’t imagine the way he and his friends would react to finding out that it was you who he had been talking to. Should you tell her not to say anything? “I…” No… It might make her say something. Maybe she’ll forget about it in the morning. That would be the best case scenario. 
“I think Han Jisung and I would be the perfect couple, right? I mean, we’re both popular, we’re both insanely attractive! That’s why I feel so bad for him, you know? It’s not like he’d willingly go for a complete loser, but this stupid anonymous app is really getting his hopes up.” You were right there, she knew exactly what she was doing, but she still had the audacity to look over at you with the fakest smile. “Were you saying something?” 
“N-No…” You stammered, pushing yourself up off your bed and heading to the door. “I’m gonna take a walk, I’ll be back later…” She didn’t say anything to you as you left, simply laughing along with the multitudes of friends that she had on call. Had she told them? Were they all laughing at you? Of course they were, she was right… Why would he want to be with someone like you? You were a nobody, a speck of dust, no… Not even that. People notice dust… you were less than that. 
But why didn’t you deserve to be happy, even if that meant staying behind the safety and security of your phone screen and a basic username? Were you not allowed to have anything? Not even some sort of happiness brought by anonymous interaction? Isn’t that how everything on the internet is nowadays anyway? No one really knows each other… So why is it such a big deal if you talk to him? Why should you be shamed for doing it the way you have been? Could you not even have this one thing? 
Being outside was like a breath of fresh air, at least for a moment, but those thoughts brought on by the words of your roommate were suffocating. Should you even respond to him? He thought you were sleeping already… you could tell him you had been busy… His messages have the ability to help you feel better in an instant, and you needed that now. You clicked on the notification and quickly typed in your password to open the app, and not even a second passed before your phone was vibrating in your hand. 
JiHizzy : Hey! There you are! 
JustAnotherGirl : Hm… Were you just sitting and waiting for me to come online?
JiHizzy : and what if I was?? 
JiHizzy : you know I can’t sleep without talking to you first. 
JustAnotherGirl : I didn’t know that though…
JiHizzy : well now you know! :D 
JiHizzy : so… the call feature came out! I want to call you! Can I?
JustAnotherGirl : uhm… I don’t know… 
JiHizzy : are you in your room? Is your roommate sleeping? I can talk quiet!
JustAnotherGirl : no… no it’s not that…
JiHizzy : I want to hear your voice… please? We can talk about anything! Anything you want! 
JustAnotherGirl : I guess… 
In a second your phone was buzzing, Jisungs screen name front and center on your screen. What a foolish feature this is, why not just give people your phone number if you’ll just talk on the phone? What’s next? Video calling? What if…? You would never do that… You couldn’t… He wouldn’t want to see you anyway. 
Your hands shook as you accepted the call and brought your phone up to your ear. “Hehe, hey! Took you a bit to answer, I thought you’d just ignore me!” His voice came with a face, one that you could perfectly envision in your mind. His smile, the creasing of his eyes as he probably laid back against his pillow, one arm tucked under his head, perfectly at ease with everything. He was so lucky and he probably didn’t even realize it. 
“Oh… uh… no. I was just… trying to find somewhere to sit.” You lied, looking around at the line of streetlamps that illuminated the sidewalks that led to different buildings. “H-Hi…” You stammered, and you knew exactly why you were flustered, why you were so nervous. Jisung was practically a GOD here, and you might as well have been an earthworm with how much lower you were than him. If anyone found out about this, you were sure that the both of you would be humiliated, but for vastly different reasons. 
“You don’t have a couch or a bed or anything in your dorm?” He asked, and you felt stupid, this whole thing just felt insanely stupid. So what if you didn’t have a couch or a bed in your dorm anyway, not everyone was made of money! What was he going to do, judge you for it? “Well… Look, if you need help or anything… I-” 
“I don’t need help.” You stated quickly, and you truly didn’t. Sure, you didn’t have a couch or a flat screen television in your dorm, but you had a bed, and that was more than what most people had, so you had no reason to complain. “I’m actually-” A particularly loud gust of wind whipped around you, the force so strong that you could almost hear it crackling in your speaker, and it whipped up freshly fallen leaves around you. 
“Are you outside?” There was a slight panic in his voice, although you weren’t sure why. It’s not like you hadn’t braved elements far more atrocious than wind before. But then again, he didn’t exactly know you well. With the image he had in his mind of you, he probably thought you were too pretty, too perfect to be outside in the wind, potentially getting your hair messed up. “Did you go outside just to talk to me? I-If I knew you were going to do that, I would have just said to wait until a different day to call. I don’t want you to get ill.” 
You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Was he always this caring, or was he just pretending? Only the people closest to him would know, and you weren’t close to him at all. Surely to be as popular as he was, he’d have to be some kind of an asshole… That’s how the movies and the shows always depict the popular guys. They were too good for people like you… But… He didn’t know you were a person… A person like you. “It’s fine, really. I’ve walked home in thunderstorms before… A little gust of wind isn’t going to take me out.” 
There was a sigh from his end of the call, and then the rustling of what sounded like sheets or blankets. “Well tell me where you are. You’re already out, and I wouldn’t mind walking a bit to come see you. I really want to know you… I can get my shoes on real quick and-” You hung up the call before he was finished, your breath held in your throat, and you didn’t let it go until you were certain the call was ended. It was rude, sure, of course it was… But why was he so god damn pressed on meeting you!? Why wasn’t this good enough for him too?! 
JiHizzy : Did the call cut out? Was it the wind?? Are you okay!?
JiHizzy : If you don’t answer me, I’ll… I don’t know… I’m not a computer wizard but…
JiHizzy : I know people can trace things and… Please tell me you’re okay. I’m worried.
JustAnotherGirl : yeah… I’m fine… 
JustAnotherGirl : my phone battery is dying… 
JiHizzy : Oh! Okay! 
JiHizzy : Get inside quick, please. Charge your phone and message me in the morning… yeah?
JustAnotherGirl : yeah… 
JustAnotherGirl : Goodnight…
JiHizzy : Goodnight beautiful! 
This was getting worse, it was only going to get harder… Maybe you should cut ties with him now… It would be better that way, wouldn’t it? It wasn’t paying off to selfishly keep him, basically trapped behind your phone screen because you were scared of the embarrassment that would come along with actually meeting him. You needed to let him go…
///
Your roommate was laying in bed, a sheet mask over her face and the bedside table lamp had been dimmed. She was sleeping, at least that’s what you thought, until the door latch clicked as you shut it and she jumped up. “What were you out doing, huh?” The questions immediately started, and you shook your head, going over to your bed and yanking back the blankets. “I know that you weren’t out with… him. He would drop dead before being seen with the likes of you, ya know?” 
She snickered annoyingly, and you whipped around, your face scrunched up as you tried to keep the tears at bay. “How? How do you know that? How should I know that?! Do you know him?! Do you really know him?!” You asked, or, more like begged for her to give you the answers. You weren’t really sure why you were going to her of all people, maybe you were just desperate to hear that… that you would be good enough… Maybe not for him… But for someone. 
The loud laugh that poured from her lips was like a gut punch, and you dropped down onto your bed, absolutely humiliated, devastated, you felt like a fool. “Listen… I’m gonna do you a favor… You know, since we’re… friends…” This was bound to be an awful idea, you were sure of it, but you felt like she was going to keep talking anyway and… It was beginning to feel like you didn’t have a choice. “I think it’ll be a win for both of us… So, I’ll meet him, as you… And you get to keep talking to him at night. He’ll fall in love with me and my beautiful looks, as everyone always does, and… Well, you won’t be lonely. How does that sound?” 
It sounded terrible, it sounded awful, it was an elaborate ruse that surely no one would fall for… But… He wouldn’t ask you to meet him anymore… You’d still talk to him… She wouldn’t bother you or even have a reason to try to embarrass you on campus. You could stay hidden, it could work… It could really work. “Fine…” You mumbled, running your hands over your face, trying not to think too hard. “You… I don’t want to get involved too much with… What the two of you might do… But if he brings it up in the chat… You’ll have to… Tell me…” It was the last thing you’d ever want to know, but if this was going to work, you’d have to give him up just to have him still… It sounded crazy. You’d never have with him what she could… All you would ever be able to have are late night conversations, living out a fantasy through the tellings of your roommate and him. It would have to be good enough. 
“Oh, don’t worry… I’ll tell you everything!” She clapped her perfectly manicured nails together, and you knew there was something sinister about it, but this felt like the only way. “Get some sleep, we have a lot of planning to do tomorrow. This is going to be great!” 
///
“Where did you tell him to meet me… I mean… you?” She whispered, reading over your shoulder to try to see what the messages on your phone said. This was it… Today was the day… She’d probably tell him to delete the app since he finally met “you”. Was it worth it? Probably not… But you had been alone for the longest time before this all happened, you’d be fine with being alone after this as well. Nothing would change for you… But she would get everything she wanted… As if she didn’t have it all already. 
“The… The fountain, at the center of campus…” You mumbled. Would he really think it was you? The two of you sounded nothing alike… But would he be able to pick up on that? Probably not, he didn’t seem like the type that really cared for things like that. He was so excited that you finally agreed to meet him, the messages were flooding in and she had been right there to read all of them. 
JiHizzy : I’m on my way to the fountain now! 
JiHizzy : I can’t believe this is finally happening… We’ve been talking for almost 4 months now…
JiHizzy : Isn’t this crazy?!?! 
JiHizzy : I’m just a little nervous… I hope you don’t mind.
JustAnotherGirl : I don’t… I don’t mind at all…
Have fun… You thought to yourself as you stood at a distance, watching as Jooyi stood at the fountain, switching between sitting on the edge and standing every couple of seconds. She fumbled with the edge of her skirt, and fixed her hair, then checked her makeup. She was nothing like you… Would he be able to notice, even if you had only talked through text and occasionally on the phone? Was he able to tell your personality through little things like that? 
Then you saw him, practically sprinting towards the fountain, it was like everything was in slow motion. Did he even know who to look for? Would Jooyi fit the image of you that he created in his mind? You leaned against the light pole, your phone clutched against your chest… One message and you could ruin this all for her… But it would cost you too much, and you would have nothing to show for it, nothing to gain. People like you weren’t made for people like him, he would never stoop so low as to even look in your direction. They were made for each other… Who were you to ruin things? 
“Jisung!” You heard her voice ringing in your ears, and you looked up from the pavement to see her waving in his direction, and he paused. Did he know? You watched him closely, and you saw the smile slowly beginning to form on his face before he sprinted over to her. His arms wrapped around her waist in a tight hug, picking her up and spinning her around before setting her on the ground. It would never be you, that could never be you… You made two people happy today… It should feel good, but you felt sick, and you quickly turned away, rushing back to your dorm room. You didn’t have to be there to watch it, you’d hear all about it when she came back. 
///
JiHizzy : It was… Wow… 
JiHizzy : Finally meeting you in person! It’s amazing! 
JustAnotherGirl : Yeah! I’m so happy that I finally got to meet you! 
You sniffled softly as you looked over his messages. They wouldn’t be the same again, nothing would. He’d talk about everything that he did with “you”, and you’d just have to respond as if… as if it were truly you there. This… This deal… It wasn’t fair at all. It was just rubbing into your face everything that Jooyi got to do with him… And he was the one unknowingly telling you… She was evil… But she was a master at being just that. 
JiHizzy : Well… Do you want to talk on the phone? I mean… 
JiHizzy : We’ve already met each other and… I don’t know why… 
JiHizzy : I could ask you for your number… But I don’t want to get rid of the app.
JustAnotherGirl : oh? Why?
JiHizzy : There’s just so many memories on here…
JiHizzy : Sometimes when I’m alone or sad… I go back through our messages. You really know how to make me happy…
JustAnotherGirl : Really…?
JiHizzy : Yeah… Really. 
JiHizzy : Don’t tell anyone though! The guys would totally mock me for that.
JustAnotherGirl : I won’t… I won’t tell anyone.
Jooyi burst through the door, shopping bags lining her arms and she dropped them carelessly to the floor before falling back onto her bed, a loud, ear piercing squeal escaping her as she kicked her feet. “He’s so amazing! He’s so much cuter up close! He wants to take me on a date this weekend!!” She squealed again, and you felt disgusted. Did he want to take her on a date, or did he want to take you on a date? Was it her looks or was it your personality that he liked? 
“I’m… Really happy for you, Jooyi.” You lied through gritted teeth. You hated hearing about it, you hated hearing her in general, but hearing her talk about him as if she was the one who had put in the work over four months to get him to like her… It was unfair. You faked a yawn and rubbed your eyes, acting tired just to be able to wipe your tears without her noticing. “I’m gonna go to the library and study. I’ll see you later.” 
She was lost in her own world, but she sat up as you reached the door, your backpack slung over your shoulder and your hand on the doorknob. “Hey!” You put on a smile as you turned to face her, waiting for her to continue. “Did he message you? Did he talk about me? Hmm?” 
You felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket, you knew it was him, but you shook your head. “Haven’t heard from him… Maybe he deleted the app… I don’t know. I have to study though, I’ll let you know if he does.” She sighed softly, letting her head fall back against the mattress, she was back in dreamland. Her whole life was a dream… And yours was a nonstop nightmare. 
///
The library was practically empty when you walked in, you could hear every squeak of the floorboards as the one or two other students paced the shelves of books. You could almost hear the buzzing of the fluorescent light that hung over your head… You could hear… “Is this seat taken?” The man asked, and you looked up to see Jisung standing next to the chair that was across from you. It was strange, and you looked around at the vast amount of empty tables that filled the large building. Why would he want to sit with you? “I don’t like sitting by myself… I feel like it’s easier to study when I have someone sitting with me.” 
Could he read your mind? Pfft, no! That’s impossible. “It’s not taken…” You mumbled, trying to keep your voice low, hoping that he wouldn’t recognize it from the phone calls. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how furious Jooyi would be if she found out about this. Maybe you should just leave. You could study another night. Then your phone vibrated against the table, your heart froze, and Jisung, who had been smiling at his own phone looked up at you. 
“Heh… That’s a coincidence. I just sent a message and your phone vibrated!” He said rather cheerfully, and the way he looked at you, it was like he was expecting you to check it. There was no way in hell you’d do that though. You awkwardly giggled, shoving your phone into your backpack as you shook your head. 
“Probably an email or something… It is… Ironic though…” You whispered, lowering your head even further into the textbook that you had opened. You felt his eyes linger on you though, like they were burning through you, and you didn’t know whether to feel flustered, nervous, or both those things and everything in between. “D-Do you need something? A pencil… Or-” 
“I know you…” He said matter-of-factly, and it was like your throat closed up and your chest tightened. How did he know you? What was he talking about? He couldn’t possibly know you. “You’re the top student… You’re like, mega smart! I can see why now… Do you always study this late?” 
Relief, a sigh of relief and a deep breath. You were safe… You shouldn’t overthink too much. “Mmn…” You nodded your head once but kept it bowed, trying to focus on the words in the textbook, but it was so hard. “Thank you…” You added, wondering if maybe that was what he was waiting for. 
He chuckled softly, and then you felt the table shake as he dropped his own backpack on the table and started pulling out a bunch of notebooks. “You make it seem so easy. How do you just… Concentrate? It’s so hard for me to do.” He whined, and you looked around as his voice got higher and higher. “Oh… Sorry.” His voice dropped back down to a whisper and then he chuckled softly. 
His laugh was contagious and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him, your hand clasping over your mouth to try to muffle the noise. “It’s easy… You just have to find the fun in it.” He rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you and you pursed your lips, trying not to laugh at his reaction. “Seriously. Here, let me show you.” 
It was supposed to be a solo study session, honestly, it was just to try to get away from your roommate long enough for her to fall asleep. You never in your wildest dreams expected this to happen. It was like a scene straight out of a k-drama, but you also knew that after these types of scenes, things got bad. But you didn’t want to think about that right now… All you could think about was the way that he laughed with you, the way he smiled at you, the way he talked to you like you were a person and not just the dirt beneath his shoes. 
“You remind me of someone.” He said nonchalantly as you both started packing up your books. You blinked a few times, your head tilting to the side as you waited for him to elaborate, but he was looking at his phone, his smile dropping slightly as he turned it off and slid it into his pocket. “Oh… It’s nothing. She must have just fallen asleep. She’s always so tired. She studies a lot… Kind of like you. Maybe you can tutor me… I’ll bring her too! That would be cool, right?” Cool… Not at all. It was the complete opposite of cool. That… That would never work.
“M-Maybe… I don’t know… I tutor a couple other people.” You came up with the lie quickly, and you hated the way his smile almost completely disappeared. Maybe you could make an exception… It’s not like he’d find out… Right? Jooyi would just have to act interested in studying. You were sure that if you told her, she’d be on board… “I’ll… I’ll see if I can schedule you in.” 
And just like that, his smile was back and he was pulling his phone out again. “Awesome! Uhm, how about we exchange phone numbers and…” He trailed off when he saw the look on your face, and you were sure that you looked quite uneasy. There was no way that would go over well with Jooyi, she’d flip shit. “How about Anonny… You know the app, right? Everyone has it!” Oh shit… That was even worse. 
“How about… We leave it up to fate.” His eyebrow arched, and you were really going out on a limb here with the excuses, but you had to protect yourself… Not just from him, but from Jooyi too. You didn’t have much to lose… But it was enough to have you terrified. “If we both manage to come to the library at the same time, if you see me here, I’ll tutor you. I usually come at night though… Just so you know.” 
You bowed your head to him as you got up, putting on your backpack and heading out, and you could hear him following behind you. “I’ll be here. Every night. I’ll study on my own too… Thank you, for helping me.” You hummed in response, pushing open the main door and you were met with a rather brisk gust of wind that had you shivering and shoving your hands into your pockets. “Are you cold? Here…” He shimmied out of his top coat, placing it over your shoulders and smiling when he saw it on you. “You can return it to me next time fate brings us together, okay? Just stay warm, and get home safe.” 
For fucks sake… 
///
JiHizzy : Hey, whatcha up to?
JiHizzy : It’s been like… 3 hours… Are you mad or something? 
JiHizzy : You must be sleeping… I just feel like somethings wrong… 
JiHizzy : Let me know when you get this message… Okay?
Your roommate was fast asleep when you finally got in, and you quickly took off Jisungs coat and slid it under your bed, safe for now at least from the prying eyes of Jooyi. As you curled up under your blankets, ready to just fall asleep, ready to let yourself drift off into a world where you didn’t have to pretend and you didn’t have to lie to the man who had sat across from you in the library when there were so many tables to choose from. The man who smiled at you and made you feel like you were the only person in the room. Then your phone vibrated once more from under your pillow. 
JiHizzy : I was studying tonight… I know how important it is to you and… I wanted to do it. JiHizzy : I met someone there, she reminded me of you a lot! 
JiHizzy : I hope these aren’t waking you up… I know you’re sleeping. 
JustAnotherGirl : I was at the library too. We must have just missed each other…
JiHizzy : NO WAY! Dammit! Well… 
JiHizzy : I was thinking that we can do study dates. Wouldn’t that be cool? 
JustAnotherGirl : It would. I really like that idea. 
JiHizzy : Awesome! Okay! 
JiHizzy : Goodnight cutie! 
Study dates… That’s how you had looked at tonight, or you were just delusional. If tonight had happened sooner… Would you have taken Jooyi up on her deal? He seemed to be just fine with you… He wasn’t embarrassed, he wasn’t ashamed to be sitting across from you and laughing with you… Would he have liked you still if he knew who you really were? 
///
“So, how was your night last night? You got home safe?” Jisung asked and you heard Jooyi giggle loudly, it was so fake, it made you sick. He was such a genuine person, and she was nothing but a stuck up little- 
“My night was wonderful! I went shopping for our date this weekend. I can’t wait for you to see the outfits I picked out!” You sank down onto the bench. Shit… You hadn’t told her… What would happen now? 
“Sh-Shopping?” He questioned, and you wanted to crawl under a rock. You wanted to hide from her and the wrath that you knew was bound to be coming your way. “I thought you were studying? You said… You said you were at the library…” 
She went silent, and even though you were outside, you could feel the tension in the air. “Did… Did I say shopping?! Oh my gosh, I meant studying! I’m a big nerd! You know me!” She laughed again, but this time there was something else… Nervousness? Irritation? Anger? She’d be looking for you. 
“You’re acting weird… Are you okay?” He asked, and she scoffed loudly. Should you spare a glance and risk meeting eyes with her? “Were you just… Lying about studying? Was it to try to… Impress me? You know you don’t have to do that.” 
“I know I don’t. I’m impressive enough!” She said loudly, it’s like she enjoyed making scenes. She was disgusting. “I have to go really quick, I forgot my big ol’ textbook back at my room. I’ll meet up with you later? We can have lunch!” 
“Y-Yeah… Sure…” Something had changed… He wasn’t buying it anymore. But you didn’t have time to worry about that. Jooyi was looking for you, and you were tired of being scared of her. You were tired of worrying about what she’d do or what she’d say about you. Jisung liked you, even if just as a friend… You had been made clear of that last night at the library. She couldn’t even make it one day… The two of you were just too different, and he had noticed. You weren’t sure what would happen next, but you weren’t going to hide away, you weren’t going to give in. You deserved to be happy… You might not have the money, you don’t have the luxuries, but you have the willpower, and you have the drive… And that was worth way more than what her money could ever buy. 
“I need to talk to you… Now.” As if like magic, she appeared in front of you. She was angry, no doubt, but there was nothing she could do to hurt you. So you got up, following her off to the side of one of the buildings, and before you could say anything the palm of her hand connected with your cheek. “You bitch! You said that you’d tell me when he messaged you! Was this your plan?! To humiliate me in front of him!” 
Now it was your turn to scoff, your turn to laugh, and while the sting in your cheek hurt, it didn’t hurt as much as knowing that you almost let him get away, you almost let him get stuck with someone like her. “I didn’t have to plan it for it to work out like this. You humiliated yourself. He isn’t your type… Deal with it.” 
“You…” She started, but it quickly turned to a scream, one filled with pure rage as she started grabbing at the pockets of your jacket. “Give me your phone! He doesn’t want you! He wants me! You’re nothing! You’re poor and you’re pathetic and you’ll never have him! Why would anyone want you!” She just… screamed… She screamed so loud, and with every attempt to grab at you, you swatted her hands away, backing up further and further until you bumped into something… or… someone. “Oh! Jisung!” She full stopped, adjusting her hair and putting on the fakest smile. 
“What are you doing?” He asked, looking between you and Jooyi. “What are you talking about?” His eyes focused on you a lot longer, as if studying you, and you felt the heat of his gaze, but it didn’t burn, it just made you feel warm, it made you feel safe. “Why do you want her phone?” 
Jooyi was stuttering over herself, unable to form a coherent sentence as her head shook violently. “She… Sh-She’s blackmailing me, Ji! She stole my username on Anonny… She’s pretending to be me so that she can get with you… So she can take you away from me!” She whined, and you couldn’t help but look disgustedly at her. She truly was the queen of scenes, stomping her feet and throwing a tantrum like a child would. How pathetic. 
“My… tutor… Is blackmailing… You?” He questioned, and her eyes widened before turning her daggers towards you. “What’s your name on Anonny? If she stole it from you… What is it?” You didn’t have to do anything, he was putting all of the pieces together for himself. You weren’t sure what would happen once the puzzle finally came together… And maybe it wouldn’t work out for you… But to see her get knocked down to size, it made it all worth it. 
“I-It… My Anonny name? You know it! You tell me what it is!” She said, and you knew why, she was trying to get him to say it… But he was smarter than that. He shook his head, letting out a disappointed chuckle, and then his attention was back on you. “Don’t! Don’t look at her! Look at me! You love me!” 
“Do I?” He whispered, but he never looked away from you, his head tilted and a small smile on his face. “What’s your Anonny username?” He asked, and you felt the heat rising inside of you. This was your chance, your moment, you didn’t know where it would lead you to, but it was time. 
“I’m… JustAnotherGirl… Just another girl that has a crush on you… That gets overlooked and forgotten. But I’m here… And I’ve been here for four months…” You murmured, and he let out a shaky gasp. Was he embarrassed? Was he ashamed that you were the girl he had been talking to for so long? “I’m sorry. I’m not popular, I’m not even close to rich. I don’t have much to give… But-” 
“But you’re perfect…” He stepped closer to you, causing you to stumble back as your breath hitched in your throat. “You’re smart, and you’re sweet… You’re kind and you’re genuine. You’re not materialistic, you’re just… You’re wonderful, you’re wonderfully you…” His hand reached up, his knuckles brushing lightly against your cheek. “You’re the girl that I fell in love with…” 
“WHAT!!?” Jooyi screeched from behind you, and before you knew it, you and Jisung were being pushed apart. “Are you serious right now?! Her?! She’s… She’s a roach! She’s vermin! I can’t believe you right now! Have you seen me?!” 
“Sadly.” Jisung retorted, and it took everything in you not to laugh, but everyone that had gathered around to see what was going on laughed enough for you. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t talk about my girlfriend like that.” 
“G-Girlfriend?!” Jooyi scoffed, running her hands through her hair. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Just… When you lose all your friends because you’re with a loser, don’t come crawling back to me! Have fun being not popular!” 
“I think it’s time for us to go, don’t you?” He asked, completely ignoring her now as he draped his arm over your shoulder. “You want lunch? Anything you want, it’s on me.” 
///
HanJi : I’ll be at the library soon. I’ve got hot cocoa!
Beautiful Wonderful Girlfriend : Don’t drive too fast, the snow is really coming down now… 
“I know it is…” His voice came from behind you, and then the cups of hot cocoa were placed in front of you on the table. “It’s really pretty, isn’t it?” You glanced out the window, awestruck at just how beautiful campus could look when blanketed in dazzling white snow. “You brought your coat, right?” 
You nodded your head, patting the chair beside you where the coat that he had given you almost 2 years ago was neatly hanging over the back of the seat. “It’s your coat… You just won’t let me give it back.” You teased, and he let out a soft sigh as he dropped down into his seat. He hadn’t changed a bit since the first time you both sat at this table together. 
It was strange how time worked, it felt like forever ago, but you remembered it like it had happened just yesterday. “It’s our coat, babe. What’s mine is yours.” He sounded so serious, but you couldn’t help but laugh at the statement. He was talking like the two of you were… Married? Your laughter subsided as you stared at him across the table, your lips parted slightly as you let out a quiet breath. 
“You’re funny…” You said sheepishly, turning your attention back out the window, focusing on the snowflakes that danced down from the sky, finding the perfect place to rest. “We’re not married, our things don’t have to be shared…” Even though you both had been together for two years and he was the sweetest, most loving boyfriend you had ever had… You still couldn’t get those words out of your head. The words from the past that had been uttered by the girl that had wanted to take your place… He would never want to be with someone like you…
“Yet…” He murmured, the word like a breath leaving his lips. You blinked a few times, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks, your heart thumping loudly in your chest. Did he really love you that much? Could someone really love you that much? Were you deserving of this much love, to be with someone like him? “What are you thinking about, babe?” He cooed, reaching across the table to grab your hands that were folded on top, his thumb brushing lightly across your knuckles. 
“I’m just…” You began, feeling the familiar sting of fresh tears beginning to brim in your eyes, but it was slightly different this time… They weren’t tears of sadness or fear… You were happy. “I’m so lucky… And… I never thought I’d be with someone so amazing… So perfect…” You could barely get your voice above a whisper, your throat closing up from trying to hold back your tears. 
“Mm…” He hummed, pushing away from the table and getting up, walking around to your side of the table and grabbing your hand. “Let’s take a walk… yeah?” One more glance out the window and you saw the snow creating almost a wall of white as it came down harder, but there was no wind, it was just… beautiful. “I’ll keep you warm, don’t worry.” 
You nodded your head, grabbing the coat and slipping it on, the scent of his cologne, although faded, still brought you comfort when you put it on. “Where are we going?” You quizzed, slipping your fingers between his as you both walked out of the library. You were sure that nothing would be open, not with this weather. 
“Anywhere… I just… I want to walk with you.” He said, his voice kind of shaky, like his nerves had gotten the better of him. He led you aimlessly through campus, and you followed right along beside him. You didn’t really care where you were going, as long as you were with him, you’d follow the path he was taking blindly with your hand in his. “I’ve been thinking a lot about how I’ll do it…” 
Was he talking to you or was he just thinking out loud? You looked to him, the snowflakes catching on your eyelashes as you tried to read him, but he was looking straight forward, his lips turned up into a lopsided smile. “How you’ll do what?” Even though you were speaking softly, the silence that surrounded you made every word sound so loud. 
“Propose.” He sounded so calm, but the singular word alone had you pausing, pulling him back so he would face you. “What? Can I not think about how I’m going to propose to my wonderful, beautiful, amazing, sweet, lovely-“ 
“Okay okay!” Even after 2 years, you still weren’t the best at taking compliments, especially when he was looking at you so intently. “Why are you thinking about that right now? We’re still in college and… I want you to focus on graduating. So we can both be successful. You know?” 
His hand slipped out of yours and then his arm snaked around your waist as he started walking again, pulling you along with him. “I can focus on graduating, and I can focus on you. I’ve been doing it since the day I truly met you… the real you.” He chuckled quietly, the sound building in his chest as his head shook. It was funny now, to look back on everything that happened. “And I like thinking about the future, it makes me happy to know that I’ll be spending it with you. But you don’t have to worry about me proposing in college… I wouldn’t want everyone to see. I want it to be a moment for us to remember.” You hummed softly, leaning against his shoulder as you simply listened to him, you let him get lost in his thoughts because you didn’t mind getting lost in them either. They had you looking forward to a better, simpler time where the two of you would be able to be together without worrying about grades and finals. “Flower petals will line the path that I’ll take you down…” He murmured, and your eyes were focused on his face, not noticing the trail of pink and red in the snow. “A gazebo, with fairy lights twinkling brightly, shining in your eyes…” He continued, sighing softly. “Nobody is around, the snow is falling, you look absolutely stunning against the backdrop…” 
“A winter proposal?” You asked, and you were so lost in his thoughts and your own that you hadn’t even noticed how far you had walked until he was leading you up the stairs of a white wooden gazebo, perfect icicles hanging off the roof of it, and… fairy lights illuminated the inside. “Ji…” You whispered his name, a tuft of smoke coming from your mouth as you breathed it out. His arm left your waist and he kneeled down in front of you, his cheeks a dark pink from both the cold and his nerves. “You said… You said you wouldn’t propose when we were still in college…” 
He snickered, fishing a black velvet box out of his pocket, his snow dampened hair curtaining his eyes as he kept his head down. “I meant… not while we were in the college. We’re not on the grounds anymore…” He finally looked up at you, and you let out a shaky gasp as it truly set in what he was doing. “I don’t want to wait any longer, I know that you’re the one that I want to spend all of my life with. I’ve never felt more comfortable with anyone else. I love you, I’ve known that I loved you since before I even… before I even knew you. I wake up every morning and thank everything that you’re mine, and I fall asleep every night knowing that no matter what, everything will be okay because I have you by my side. I don’t care what anyone thinks, I don’t care what people might say… I only care that you’re happy… And if you say yes, I promise… To do my best to make you feel happy and loved every single day until the day that I die.” He opened the box, and the diamond facets of the silver ring glistened and reflected the lights that had been strung up. “So… Will you… Will you marry me?” 
You choked out a sob, dropping to your knees in front of him as you nodded your head yes, and he quickly pulled the ring out of the box, his hand shaking as he slid it onto your finger. “Ji…” Was all you could say as you looked at the ring, cold, yet so beautiful in its place. His chilled hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your head so that your eyes would meet his. “I love you…” 
“And I’ll always love you.” He leaned in, kissing you softly and humming against your lips. “Shall we go back inside and warm up, my beautiful, lovely, wonderful, amazing-“ 
“Stop~” You playfully whined, giggling quietly as you dropped your gaze once more. “You’re so cheesy…” You mumbled, and then you felt his lips against your forehead, his fingers brushing your hair out of your face. 
“And you’re… You’re everything to me…” He pushed himself up to his feet, carefully pulling you up and then hugging you tightly. “Thank you, for making me happy, for loving me… I can’t wait to marry you."
Perm Taglist :
@whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me @mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin
@his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc @syuuji @jiisungllvr @yukichan67
@randomwimp @silentreadersthings @cutiespaghetti @furiousheartpoetry @lixpixstix
@felixluvr915 @wordsofkpop @kayleigh-28 @szkstay @spnwinchestersd @fleatree @yehsehneeah @vampcharxter @iloveksmohsomuch @lvlnijiro @neteyamsmate4life @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @delululi @insertsomethingaboutanimehere @karlitaburrito @laylasbunbunny @chimicurri-a @bandolls
@syuuji @moonlight-the-writer @smutdumpskz @extrhotjne @manuosorioh @yeonjunsfox @jazziwritesthings @itshannjisung
546 notes · View notes
gureumz · 11 months
Text
kingdom come
rating: explicit
member: sunghoon
notes: fem-bodied reader, dom!sunghoon, friends to lovers, pwp, BLASPHEMY, religious references (specifically catholic allusions), slapping, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, reader and sunghoon are students in a catholic college institution
a/n: finally, my blasphemous sunghoon piece that was supposed to coincide with holy week lol i struggled with this a bit but i did my best </3 enjoy!
Tumblr media
"holy fuck, wasn't it just sunday yesterday?"
you giggle as you trudge along the halls of your school, sunghoon's voice carrying over to your other classmates' ears. a few of them snicker along while others glance ahead nervously at the professor leading your class to the chapel.
you look up at him, your duly declared best friend, who also happens to always be conveniently right next to you when your class lines up to go anywhere.
"you do know, with you being the tallest out of all of us, your voice is most likely the first to be heard, right?" you ask, grinning mischievously up at sunghoon.
sunghoon flashes you the middle finger. you let out a sound akin to an incredulous gasp.
"i'm telling on you," you tease, punching sunghoon on the arm.
"what are you, five?" sunghoon bites back, pulling lightly at your ponytail.
"oh, wait—," sunghoon hurriedly continues. "you are five. five feet tall, that is."
before you can counter with your own insult, the professor whips his head around and gives both you and sunghoon a pointed look. your head immediately lowers in embarrassment.
sunghoon chuckles one last time beside you, shoving you lightly. you return with another punch, this time to his chest. sunghoon lets out a strangled noise of pain.
eventually, your class arrives at the chapel, your two lines filing into the quiet space. your professor seats you on the pews alternately, one girl, then one boy, then another girl, and so on. presumably, this is done to avoid any gossiping or roughhousing between the female and male students, respectively, but as you seat yourself beside sunghoon, you know that your professors will always forget that you and sunghoon have been inseparable since the day you stepped foot on campus.
"hi," sunghoon whispers, tilting his head down towards you.
"fuck off," you whisper back, but you're already smiling.
sunghoon smiles back, eyes glancing down momentarily. you follow his line of sight, rolling your eyes as you realize the buttons on your blouse are barely holding it together.
"you're such a creep," you mutter, shaking your head.
"you need new blouses," sunghoon says matter-of-factly. "and maybe a bra that isn't a push-up one."
you reach over to pinch sunghoon's thigh. he curses a little too loudly, other students' heads whipping around in your direction.
"is your love language physical harm?" sunghoon complains, rubbing at the spot where your fingernails dug themselves into his thigh.
"wouldn't you wanna know?" you reply sarcastically.
you observe the way his forearm flexes as he continues to absentmindedly soothe the skin underneath the fabric of his pants. your attention is then brought to the stretch in his gray uniform slacks, large thighs practically bursting from the hours sunghoon spends in the college workout room.
your mind had just started to wonder about the veins in sunghoon's hand when the commentator's mic screeches on.
the first half of the mass goes by uneventfully, with you going through the motions of it, standing and seating and responding whenever needed.
you plop down on your seat as the homily begins, most of your mind already tuned out from whatever lesson in conjunction with the gospel the priest is about to rattle on about.
your eyes wander around the chapel at this time, thoughts floating to whatever catches your attention. one minute, it's the gaudy gold trimmings of the altar decorations, the next, it's the sleepy gazes of the mass servers.
and the next minute still, it's the clenching of sunghoon's jaw. you gulp, unaware of just how hard you're staring.
you're not sure when it started, where the playful remarks between you two turned into borderline dirty jokes and the casual playfighting became excuses for you both to let your touches linger on each other for more than what was deemed appropriate for friends.
you're not one to assume, but none of your other guy friends had the audacity to comment so openly on your boobs.
sunghoon catches your eye and his expression shifts to a playful smirk.
he lays a hand on your bare knee, squeezing lightly. you remain nonchalant, ignoring the sneaky side eye you get from jungwon, the guy seated directly to your right who also happens to be the class president.
sunghoon leans ever so slightly toward you, whispering lowly, "are you bored? cause i'm bored."
"shut up, i don't feel like getting in trouble for talking during mass," comes your curt reply.
sunghoon hums in acknowledgment. "i can do the talking. you can just listen."
sunghoon is drawing patterns on your knee and part of your exposed thigh, fingertips swirling over your skin. goosebumps erupt all over your body and you know sunghoon can feel it.
"shut up," you say through gritted teeth, sunghoon's fingers stopping right as they've slipped beneath the hem of your skirt.
sunghoon straightens up, hand unmoving on your thigh.
there it remains for the rest of the homily.
---
"i'm honestly so exhausted," sunghoon grumbles, the two of you walking amongst the throng of students pouring out the chapel doors.
sunghoon has an arm thrown lazily around your shoulders, his perfume coming off strong as he pulls you closer to him.
"i'm so tired of being woken up at ass o'clock in the morning for mass," sunghoon continues.
"same," you agree, trying to conceal the quiver in your voice when you feel sunghoon absentmindedly toying with the patch sewn onto your blouse, the embroidered school's logo conveniently placed right at the upward slope of your breast.
"we can go back to the dorms," you suggest, gently nudging sunghoon's hand off the vicinity of your chest. "take a nap until lunchtime."
sunghoon grins at you, winking. "my place or yours?"
"honestly, you need to stop with the innuendos," you complain, rolling your eyes. "it's getting a little weird."
sunghoon laughs, tightening his arm around you as he maneuvers you toward the direction of the dorm.
sunghoon leans in close to your ear.
"oh, please. i know you like it."
---
normally, girls aren't allowed in the boys' dorm and vice versa, but the security sitting leisurely by his desk outside the squat two-story building of the boys' dorm doesn't care nearly as much as the one standing watch outside the girls' building.
you step into the small common area where there are a handful of students lounging about. they barely spare you and sunghoon a glance as the two of you make your way up the stairs.
you arrive at sunghoon's room at the very end of the hallway, with him opening the door and motioning for you to get in first.
already well-acquainted with your best friend's room, you head straight for sunghoon's bed, sprawling yourself over the comfy sheets.
"move," sunghoon says with a laugh, coaxing you closer to the wall where the bed is pushed up against. you comply, curling into yourself as you press your back against the cool concrete.
sunghoon settles beside you, stretching languidly, his polo riding up his body and revealing part of his toned stomach.
you pretend not to notice.
sunghoon turns to his side, facing you.
"you're incredibly pretty today," sunghoon says right out of the blue.
you giggle, despite the blush you feel creeping down your neck. "i know."
"ooh, confidence. i like that," sunghoon comments, reaching over to toy at the ends of your hair.
"you've been awfully touchy lately," you reply, a shiver running up your spine as sunghoon slowly undoes your ponytail.
"and they're observant, too," sunghoon points out, pulling your hair tie onto his wrist.
"another point for you," sunghoon adds, raising his eyebrows at you.
you bite down on your lip, your heart hammering against your ribcage.
"just tell me whatever it is you want to tell me," you urge.
sunghoon moves closer, your knees knocking against his. he slips a leg between yours, tangling your limbs together.
"i have no idea what you're on about," sunghoon says with a smile and a shrug.
you roll your eyes, giving sunghoon a look.
a few seconds pass by and neither of you has spoken a word. finally, sunghoon takes in a breath.
"as you already know, despite being enrolled in this obviously catholic institute, i was never one for religious worship," sunghoon begins, tracing a finger down from your shoulder to your wrist.
"but when you look the way you do today, sitting so clueless under the chapel lights and in front of the son of God himself, i might just start believing in the divine."
you're bewildered at what you just heard. you're so dumbstruck, you start to laugh.
"you're so full of shit," you say, shoving at sunghoon's shoulder.
sunghoon's expression turns into surprise for a moment before shifting to amusement.
"i thought girls liked romance," sunghoon points out. "i just said 'you're pretty' in the most poetic way i can."
you laugh even louder this time.
"didn't know you were one for poetry," you reply, reaching a hand out toward sunghoon's face. hesitantly, you start to run your fingers through his dark hair.
sunghoon makes a sound of satisfaction as you tug a little near the nape of his neck.
"when you listen to scripture enough times, it starts to sound a little like poetry," sunghoon explains, eyes blinking lazily as he takes in your appearance.
the two of you had moved closer to each other without even noticing.
"that's kind of naughty, don't you think?" you tease, running your nails against sunghoon's scalp. "using the word of God to practice picking up girls?"
sunghoon looks stunned for a second but his laughter soon follows.
"what if i meant to get a little naughty?" sunghoon says with a raise of his brow, pulling your hand away from his head before placing featherlight kisses on your knuckles.
your heart leaps in your chest and your whole body suddenly feels warm, despite the air conditioning in sunghoon's room on full blast. you swallow, trying to find the words to say.
before either of you can get another word out, the bell from the main building on campus tolls noon, signaling the start of lunch.
you bolt upright, palms sweaty as you scoot away from sunghoon.
"we should go eat," you say through unsteady breaths. "the cafeteria will be full, for sure."
sunghoon wordlessly nods, eyes following the curve of your body as he watches you straighten yourself in his mirror.
---
you and sunghoon make your way across campus, at a much slower pace than one would expect from people who are supposedly in a hurry to get lunch.
you walk ahead of sunghoon, replaying in your mind the scene that played out in his room. you can feel his eyes burning through the back of your head but you continue along.
you enter the main building, nearing the chapel once more. you maintain your distance from sunghoon, determined to get to the cafeteria on the second floor. just as you were about to pass by the heavy wooden doors of the chapel towards the stairs, you feel a hand circle around your wrist, pulling you back.
you look up to see sunghoon walking backward toward the chapel, a mischievous glint in his eye. with his overwhelming strength, you can't help but move along with him.
"what are you doing?" you say, eyes wide as sunghoon momentarily turns away to open the chapel door. he slips into the room, pulling you along with him.
sunghoon closes the door behind you as carefully as he can, letting out a breath as he hears the mechanism click in place. he reaches over to lock it.
you're about to protest once more when you feel him press up against you, forcing you against the firm wood.
"i like you," sunghoon blurts out, resting a large hand against your hip.
you stare at him for a moment, expressionless.
"i know," you finally respond, smiling up at him.
sunghoon lets out a chuckle, wrapping his arms around your midsection, pulling you flush against him.
you feel him press his lips against yours and your hands automatically reach up to hold his face steady.
sunghoon kisses you deeper, leaving no space between you as he practically flattens you into the chapel doors. sunghoon's movements are frantic, rushing against the possibility that anyone can find the chapel suspiciously locked at this moment. it wasn't that hard either to request for the key.
you gasp as you feel sunghoon kiss his way down your neck, sucking at a spot just above your collar.
"i know you—fuck—don't really subscribe to the whole religion thing, but in here? are you sure?" you question, growing more breathless by the second.
sunghoon returns to your lips, his hand slipping under your skirt and giving your ass a harsh squeeze. you moan loudly into the kiss.
"you said it yourself. i don't subscribe to the whole religion thing," sunghoon points out as he pulls away, hooking his fingers through the waistband of your underwear.
"in here is perfect."
you have to stop yourself from whimpering at his words, your panties slipping off easily and gliding down your legs as they fall to your ankles. you lift a leg up to quickly grab the lace garment, shoving it deep into sunghoon's pocket.
"that's my girl," sunghoon praises, grinning down at you.
sunghoon pulls you towards the nearest pew, seating himself right in the middle. you climb onto his lap, letting your bare ass press down perfectly with his straining bulge.
"you're gonna stain my pants, baby," sunghoon points out, reaching under your skirt to prod at your core. you gasp when you feel him graze your clit.
"i mean, you're already soaked," sunghoon adds, running his fingers up and down between your pussy lips, gathering more of your arousal.
"hurry up, then," you challenge, glancing briefly at the door.
"so mouthy as always," sunghoon says, grabbing at your chin. you moan, surprisingly pleased at his sudden display of control. his eyes flit toward something behind you.
"and in front of Jesus, no less," sunghoon reminds with a laugh, tightening his grip on your jaw.
you try to get your next words out as best as you can through sunghoon's hold on your face.
"you're the one who brought me here."
sunghoon's eyes darken. he lets go of you, both of his hands grabbing harshly at your boobs instead. he's nowhere near gentle, nails digging through your blouse.
you cry out in surprise, a jolt of pleasure running through you. your hips start to grind against sunghoon but you stop short when you feel him land a slap against your cheek.
"weren't you taught to be quiet in the house of the Lord?" sunghoon asks, brows furrowed as he looks at your bewildered expression.
the skin of your cheek seems to be screaming, red hot with the blood rushing to it.
"i-i'm sorry," you mumble, cradling the side of your face.
sunghoon's expression softens. he leans in, pulling your hand away to kiss the warm flesh of where he had just smacked you.
"good girl," sunghoon says. you shiver as you feel his breath tickle your face.
sunghoon pulls away, tucking your hair behind your ear.
"you okay?" sunghoon asks, his eyes running over your features in concern, and suddenly, he's back to being your playful, pain-in-the-ass best friend.
"i'm fine," you assure him. "but, i swear if we don't hurry up..."
you trail off, grinding your hips down again. you see sunghoon visibly tense, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth.
"go on then," sunghoon says, expression stony once again. "take it out."
he motions to the tent in his pants and you hurriedly oblige, pulling his zipper down. you reach beneath his underwear, tugging it down enough to let his cock free.
your mouth involuntarily waters at the sight, sunghoon's tip an angry red as it oozes precum. the rest is pale, even paler than all of his body, with veins all over.
"i thought you were in a hurry?" sunghoon's voice cuts through your thoughts. "don't keep me waiting, angel."
you move closer, angling his cock right at your aching entrance. sunghoon holds onto your waist as you guide him through your hole.
both of you sigh when you feel him enter you. you lower yourself until all of him is inside you, so impossibly deep you can practically feel it in your belly.
"come on, baby," sunghoon encourages, lifting you off his cock and bringing you back down. you clamp a hand over your mouth, the stretch and feel of him inside you overwhelming your entire body.
you start to move on your own, moving your hips up and down. your knees strain against the wooden seat but you anchor yourself against sunghoon, trying to find the perfect pace.
"that's it," sunghoon says lowly, watching as you ride him, your skirt hiking up higher and higher on your body, leaving you looking totally debauched with your uniform in disarray.
"fuck, _______. just like that, angel."
sunghoon throws his head back, exposing his smooth neck to you. you quicken your movements, whining when you feel the pleasure double. you lean forward, suckling near sunghoon's adam's apple.
"oh God," sunghoon groans, threading his fingers through your hair. he pulls you away from his neck abruptly, looking over your head and right at the altar.
"you see this, God? all that talk about finding your kingdom, but it's right here in—shit—in their warm, sopping wet pussy."
you whine at his words, cheeks burning at how absolutely filthy they are, but the thrill of doing this, of saying all this, right in the very heart of this whole school's foundation, sends you reeling and wanting more.
"up," sunghoon commands, pushing you off him.
confused, you do as he says, standing shakily. you let out a yelp when you feel him turn you around, pressing you against the pew in front of you. you brace yourself against the backrest as sunghoon slips back inside you easily, leaning down so his chest is right against your back.
your eyes roll into the back of your head as you feel sunghoon set up a relentless pace, taking you from behind as you both gaze upon the religious relics in front of you.
"so dirty," sunghoon comments. the sound of his skin slapping against yours bounces off the walls of the chapel.
"such a slut for letting me fuck them in a chapel."
you cry out, collapsing against the pew as you feel your orgasm quickly approaching. sunghoon grunts when he feels you clench around him, tightening his hold on your hips, fucking into you even rougher than he already was.
"gonna cum, baby?" sunghoon asks. "say a little prayer when you do, 'kay angel?"
"oh my God," you whimper as you reach down to rub your clit, urging yourself closer and closer to your release.
you hear sunghoon laugh breathlessly behind you but you barely take note of it because the floodgates in your abdomen open and the rush of your orgasm quickly takes over you.
a string of curses, sunghoon's name, and some variations of 'oh my God' spill out of your mouth. you deem this close enough to prayer as you can get.
sunghoon groans in your ear as you clamp down tightly around his cock. he gives a couple more thrusts before he shudders, spilling himself inside you.
you lay limp under sunghoon, catching your breath as your bleary eyes stop to observe the crucified Jesus in front of you. you shiver as you realize what you've just done.
"hoon," you let out weakly. "hoon, we need to get out of here."
sunghoon pulls out of you, quick to shove two fingers in you to keep his cum from leaking out. you gasp at the feeling, shooting sunghoon a death glare.
sunghoon laughs, leaning in to kiss you.
"oh my sweet, sweet angel," sunghoon singsongs, kissing you all over your face.
"you're nasty," you say with a scowl, pushing sunghoon away. he takes his fingers out, reaching into his pocket to hand you your underwear back.
"here, wouldn't want the whole school to know i just filled you with my cum," sunghoon offers with a wink.
you grimace, landing a soft punch to sunghoon's stomach.
"so nasty."
2K notes · View notes
matchavellichor · 8 months
Note
If you’re still taking requests then I have one 😊
Could you please write a scenario where Sebastian goes home for the Christmas holiday to make amends with Anne and Solomon (before shit happens) and he leaves Ominis and Female MC alone. They finally get to spend time alone together for once and find they have a lot more in common than rheu previously thought (they go on walks, study in the library, hang out in the undercroft) and Ominis who already had a secret little crush on her but always thought that Sebastian kinda had a claim on her, starts falling very hard and he finally decides to do something about it. Maybe they’re hanging out in the undercroft one night and he spontaneously kisses her. I would adore if you could take this into NSFW territory, I’d love the awkward yet sensual first-time sex between them if you could (and as much as I love him, please no Dominis, I want the sweet boy we meet in the game) ♥️
A.N: Thank you for this request! I absolutely adored writing this, so precious 🥹 I hope you enjoy! Also thank you to everyone else who sent a request, I'm trying to get through all of them now that I'm on break and have more time 🫶
You Drew Stars
f!MC x Ominis Gaunt - NSFW/Fluff - 5.6k words
Summary: After Sebastian leaves the castle to spend winter break in Feldcroft, Ominis' sentiments for his friend slowly begin to stretch past the bounds of what's platonically appropriate...
Tags: "Un"requited Love, Pining, Miscommunication, Loss of Virginity, First-Times, Friends to Lovers, Supportive Friend Sebastian Sallow
The library was empty as Ominis meandered his way through towards the back shelves, most of the other students having gone home for winter break. To his satisfaction, the few who had stayed didn’t share any habits of curling up with a book an hour before curfew. 
He made his way to the old, royal purple chaise that he usually sat in towards the back corner of the establishment, tucked just behind a shelf on holistic gardening that no one ever frequented. He stilled when he noticed someone already there, the quiet sound of pages turning alerting him of their presence.
“Hey, Ominis,” She glanced up when she heard him approach and eyed the book in his hand curiously. “Some light reading before bed?” 
“Oh, it’s you,” He scratched the back of his neck. “I was, but I think I’ll just head back to—”
“Don’t be silly,” She tucked herself towards one side of the lounge and patted the seat directly beside her. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.”
“It’s fine, really, you were here first—”
She sighed. “Will you just sit down?”
He shifted nervously in his place for a moment before finally coming to some decision and making his way towards her to take a seat. The chaise sat two people comfortably, albeit a bit cramped, their arms brushing every time either of them turned a page. 
She didn’t seem to mind. Unfortunately, he didn’t possess the same level of indifference, a faint flush of pink creeping up his neck from beneath his white Oxford when she crossed her legs and her thighs brushed against his.
After finishing up her chapter, she reached over to tilt the front cover of his book towards her, her curiosity getting the best of her. She was awfully forward, if not borderline rude. He tried to disguise the fact he liked it.
“Brontë?” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Developed a rebellious streak, have you, Ominis?”
“Something like that,” He mused. “Though, I suppose there are better ways to defy my parents.”
“Oh, certainly. If you spent more time with me you’d have a plethora of creative ideas by now,” She grinned. “Not that sneaking around reading Muggle literature isn’t an admirable offense, of course.”
He breathed out a laugh. “You make an enticing offer, I have to admit.”
“What can I say, I’m enticing.”
Overwhelmingly, he thought.
He accompanied her to her dorm room afterwards and tried to wipe the stupid, dreadful smile on his face the entire walk back to his own.
They fell into a simple sort of routine. 
Even though they had already fit into some category of the word friends, it had never been in the same way that she was with Sebastian. The more he got to know her, the more he wondered why he hadn’t done so sooner. She was absolutely brilliant.
He quickly learned she was just as much of a night owl as he was, often walking into the common room to find her already curled up on one of the wingback chairs in front of the fireplace, waiting for him.
She’d lay out a rotating selection of Muggle literature and make him pick one for her to read to him, even if he insisted he could just cast a simple dictation spell or transfigure a copy in braille.
He quickly found his particular favorite was Jane Austen, to which she teased him relentlessly for being a bleeding heart romantic. Gods, she had no idea. 
She introduced him to Mary Shelley, which he enjoyed just as much, although he posited he’d grow to appreciate just about anything as long as it was her reading it to him.
It was over steaming cups of earl gray in the common room and midday walks through the snow-crested forest that his inkling of a crush morphed into something else. Something more.
Feelings, he recognized rather ruefully, one late evening after she’d fallen asleep with her head pillowed on his lap in the common room. 
Twisty, hot, almost nausea-inducing feelings. Overwhelming and nerve-wracking, but at the same time so unbelievably good, and warm, and sweet, because how could he feel anything else with her except pleasantries? 
They were the kind where he found he wanted to do nothing more but stay in the private, simple routine they’d created for themselves, just the two of them. Wanted to keep living in the daydream he’d invented about their relationship, where sometimes she’d hug him goodnight a little too tightly, or sit a little too close, and it’d almost feel like she cared for him the same way he cared for her. Almost.
He ignored the guilty, nagging sensation in his gut about her relationship with Sebastian, and decided he’d let his delusions take him through the remainder of their holiday together. 
//
Stretched out on the plush rug in front of the common room fireplace, he wrapped a hand around her ankle when she went to nudge him with a stockinged foot for the thirtieth time in the last five minutes.
“Quit it,” He didn’t glance up from where his fingers were combing over the braille in his open textbook. “You’re distracting me.”
“You’re not even studying anymore,” She wriggled her foot out of his hold and poked his thigh again in defiance. “You’re a terrible fake-reader, you know. You don’t even make your eyes move across the lines.”
“Hilarious,” He rolled his eyes, finally closing the book on his lap. “And maybe I’ve stopped studying because someone has been prodding me incessantly for the past half-hour.”
“My mental capacity has reached its limit for the night. And I’m starved,” She picked herself up from the floor, rolling her shoulders back in a stretch, before holding a hand out for him to take. “Come on, up. Let’s get something to eat.”
He waved his wand over his wristwatch. “It’s nearly one in the morning, where on earth are we going to get something to eat?” 
Her lips curled into a smirk as she helped him to his feet. “I have my ways.”
He sighed a defeated breath as he let her tug him along. “Yes, I’m aware. I’m afraid that’s precisely my concern.”
//
“Gods, we’re going to be given twin concussions by a kitchen elf any second now. I hear Tilly’s got a particularly strong arm.” The glowing tip of Ominis’ wand cast the dark surroundings of the Hogwarts kitchens in a red hue. “Keep an eye out for any hurtling rolling pins, will you?”
“Will you stop worrying? It’s fine.” She huffed, sticking her head into one of the pantries of the kitchens before popping out a few moments later. “Apple or blueberry?”
“Both?”
She grinned, slipping back inside. “This is why we’re friends.”
“We’re friends? This is news to me.” 
She narrowed her eyes at where he was poised at the doorway. “Keep talking like that and we’ll be enemies soon enough.”
“My biggest nightmare,” He teased. “I certainly would not want to get on your bad side.”
He followed her as she slipped past him out of the pantry with two magically-steaming pies in hand, making her way towards the exit of the kitchens. 
“You’re certainly a lot smarter than Sebastian, then,” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You know what’s good for you.” 
You’re good for me, he thought.
“Call it self-preservation.”
//
“How about dinner with a view?” She stopped at the bottom stairwell of the Astronomy tower, only pale moonlight and the dim, orange glow of the scattered wall sconces to illuminate the barren hallways they’d been treading through.
He shrugged. “Doesn’t really make a difference to me, all of my dinners are without a view.”
“Oh, look who’s all clever all of a sudden.” She rolled her eyes.
He grinned. “I’ve always been clever. Do keep up.”
She balanced the pie in her hands in one arm and took his hand with the other, beginning the long, meandering ascent to the upper tower platform.
Her fingers laced so nicely with his, as if they’d been carved to mold perfectly with his own. Smaller than his, but warm, and familiar. He reveled in the privilege of getting to touch her so freely, conscious of the fact this comfortableness would most likely end as soon as Sebastian was back from Feldcroft.
They sat cross-legged with their arms draped over the metal railing, tucking into their pies and trading spoonfuls of rich, syrupy goodness. It wasn’t as cold as a normal December night, but he cast periodic warming charms over them anyways and transfigured his jumper into a blanket that turned out only marginally big enough for the both of them.
They ate in comfortable, companionable silence and all that he could think about is how he wished he could do this always. In the summer, in the spring, in the fall. That this wasn’t something temporary, something that would be robbed from him in a few short weeks.
“Didn’t realize you were such a messy eater, Ominis.” She glanced up at him, an amused smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Where’s all that pureblood dining etiquette gone to?” 
He rolled his eyes and went to feel around for a napkin, but she leaned forward instead. He sucked in a sharp breath as she braced a hand on his thigh and swiped her thumb over the side of his mouth, collecting remnants of blueberry jam, brushing over his bottom lip in a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, though in reality was brief and fleeting. 
She sat back down in her seat, unphased, and popped the digit in her mouth, bottom teeth scraping over the pad of her thumb, sugar melting on her tongue. 
His mouth felt terribly dry.
He swallowed down the sensation of longing with a spoonful of apple filling and flaky, golden crust.
Bellies full with ungodly amounts of pie, they laid beside each other on the too-small blanket, and Ominis tried to ignore the too-loud sound of his blood rushing in his ears, paired with the too-fast beating of his heart in his chest, and attempted to simply relax. 
He closed his eyes and focused on something other than the consuming feeling of want prickling over his skin, setting his nerve-endings alight with the desire to touch and hold and caress. She wasn’t his to do any of those things with. 
He focused on her soft, steady breathing. The rise and fall of her chest beside his. 
“Merlin, it’s beautiful.” She murmured, a dazed quality to her voice.
“I’m sure it is.” He replied just as listless, though undoubtedly for other reasons.
She turned her head to face him. “Want me to describe it to you?” 
He turned to face her as well and he was suddenly acutely aware of the feeling of her breath ghosting his cheek. She was so close. His voice was quiet. “Would you?”
She nodded. “Alright, close your eyes.” 
He bit back a smile. “You’re such an idiot.” 
She grinned. “Shut up and do it.” 
He obliged with a disgruntled huff. Pleased, she turned back towards the scenery. 
“It’s a full moon tonight, so everything has this almost…silver glow. Like the whole world’s been dipped in platinum.” She began. 
He tried to picture it in his head, sheens of pale white cast over rolling hills and thick forest.
“You can see the entire lake from up here, never-ending and inky black, and juuust there, past the border of the forest—” She outstretched a hand. “—is Hogsmeade, with its little orange lights.”
She glanced sideways at him to see his eyes still closed, the softest smile brushing his lips. 
She continued, “What’s really pretty though, is the stars. Too many to ever count. Enough to make your head dizzy, really.” She let out a laugh and he decided it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. 
“Some are brighter than others, and you can make out little pictures in the night sky. Tonight, there’s Orion looking down on us,” She tilted her head, brows knitting together as she took a moment to study him. “Actually…”
He let out a startled breath when he felt her fingertips make contact with his cheek, dragging over his skin in feather-light touches, tracing the small smattering of beauty marks there.
“You bear a remarking similarity,” She ran her index softly between the points, connecting little invisible lines. “Right here.” 
He swallowed hard. “Do I?”
“Mhm,” She hummed. “It’s awfully pretty.”
She hadn’t pulled her hand back. His skin buzzed with the sensation, because her fingertips were still there, on his cheek, touching him with a softness that he had never known before in his life, with a kindness that he was so unaccustomed to.
Gentle, repetitive drags, skin-on-skin, that same prickling sensation of want having grown into something almost painful inside of him. Bubbling and overwhelming, just underneath his flesh, his fingers twitching with the desire to reach out and feel.
He was conscious of how stupid it was, mind-numbingly so, but he couldn’t bear the aching tension in his chest any longer, and he knew of only one way to acquiesce his restless heart.
He cupped her own cheek in his hand, dipped his chin forward, and captured her lips in his.
Her fingers froze against his cheek, and he could feel the slight surprise in her body language, before it quickly morphed into something else, something accepting, something satisfied. As if she’d been longing just as desperately, had been waiting for this the same way he’d been.
Her hand dragged down to thread through the fine, blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to her, eliciting a sharp intake of air through his nose, settling all kinds of feelings deep behind his navel.
She parted her lips for him and he chased the syrupy taste of sugar on her tongue like he needed it to live, swallowed her quiet, breathy pants like mouthfuls of honey, sticky and saccharine and so overwhelmingly her he could drown in it. 
She was so sweet, so soft, and far, far too perfect for his fantasies to have ever possibly done her justice.
When she finally broke away, he could feel her drowsy, sapless smile against his lips. He smiled back, just as giddy, an absolute fool, surely, but in the moment he couldn’t care less. He resisted the urge to dive back in. To run his tongue over her teeth and plead for more, because he knew he would most likely never get enough. 
He was content then, just holding her. She tucked herself into his side, pillowed her head on his chest, and let him run his hands up and down her back. Let him bury his nose in the crown of her hair and revel in the feeling of having her there, feeling too much like his.
//
After that, their routine shifted into something else. Something unspoken, that didn’t really need any labels or clarifications, because it all fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. Normal and simple and easy and natural.
Because, of course he got to kiss her goodnight when he left her at her dorm room every evening. And it was only obvious that they’d lace their fingers together on their Sunday trips to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer, and sit on the same side of the booth instead of opposite each other like before. And why would she not drape her legs over his lap on that purple chaise in the library, or tuck herself into his side on that dusty, old loveseat in the Undercroft?
He wasn’t sure what he’d done to ever get so lucky, but he thanked Fortune herself every night he got to collect her in his arms and press lingering kisses to her forehead. It was an intoxicating feeling to have everything he wanted right there in his hands, soft and pliable and willing, so perfectly receptive to his touch, so eager to reciprocate with the same amount of fevered passion and affection.
Of course, there were levels of uncertainties to their relationship still. Questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask, out of fear of ruining everything. What are we and and for the love of Circe, tell me this means something to you, too poised on the tip of his tongue everytime she wrapped herself around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.
There were boundaries, admittedly maybe only fictitious ones his own anxious brain fabricated, but ones nonetheless. He’d always ask her first before he kissed her, and she’d always respond with eager nods, blissful smiles, and her fingers curling into the front of his shirt to tug his mouth down to hers.
He adored kissing her.  Maybe a bit too much. Alright, maybe alarmingly too much.
He’d spend eternity with his mouth on hers if he could, and it still wouldn’t be enough. He constantly craved the numb, bruised feeling of his lips after a particularly long makeout session. He couldn’t get enough of touching her, of being so intimate with her, of the soft and sweet and spit-sticky brushes of her tongue against his, of that aching, heated swirl he got just behind his navel. 
She was bliss personified. 
Crossing a leg over the other on that worn, tawny loveseat in the Undercroft, he skimmed through the pages of the paperback in his hand with his wand. A few feet away from him, she was reducing a couple training dummies into splinters of charred wood, spell after spell rolling off her tongue with ease. 
His headstrong little witch. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at how powerful she was, admiration swelling in his chest.
After getting her fix of dueling for the day and craving attention, she made her way over to him, sitting beside him, although more accurately, practically sitting on top of him. Not that he minded.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she looked up at him expectantly, and because he’d give her absolutely anything her little heart desired, he tucked his book away immediately and turned his focus towards her, pecking a kiss to her cheek. She smiled in satisfaction. 
He had the tiniest inkling of a feeling that maybe he was spoiling her rotten. Not that he minded that, either. 
“Tired?” 
She shook her head. “Just missed you.”
He brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek and couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth. “Did you now?”
She nodded, staring down at his lips as she leaned in to press her mouth against his. Simple and natural and easy. It was a wonder how normal it seemed, as if it was something they’d always done. 
Her tongue brushed against his bottom lip, pleading for entrance, and of course he obliged, because who was he to deny her anything?
He could feel the little exhale of breath against his cheek as his tongue met hers, feel the way she instinctively pressed more against him as if she wanted to mold herself to his very bones.
He loved having her like this. 
Eager and passion-filled, her magic thrumming in her veins with a little added intensity, reflected in the way she kissed him, in the way she touched him. 
She broke away for air, but he couldn’t help the desire to have more. He trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses over her jaw, down the length of her neck. He’d never kissed her there and he found himself particularly interested in exploring. She positively melted under his ministrations.
“Ominis,” She sighed his name on a breathy pant and the sound coursed straight to his groin, tugging at that aching desire in his gut, that heated, twisty, starved feeling that was always there when he touched her, lingering someone hidden, nursing it into something insatiable. 
She reconnected her mouth to his and stoked that flickering flame inside him until it was red-hot and all-consuming. 
He tangled his fingers through her hair and explored her mouth with a deliberate slowness. Languid, syrupy drags of his tongue against hers. Hot, needy breaths shared in a space between them that was far too little and far too much at the same time. 
A gasp died on his tongue when she shifted in her seat to press herself even more against him, effectively straddling his lap, impatience dripping down her spine. He went rigid.
“Hold on, don’t—” His fingers dug into her waist to still her, but she had already dragged her hips flush against his, right against that aching stiffness in his trousers. His face blanched, mortified. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
She held her bottom lip between her teeth, processing the feeling of him, a very specific part of him, pressed right to the gusset of her knickers, right under her skirt. It was like someone had stricken a match, lit her nerves on fire.
She shook her head, her cheeks hot. “Don’t apologize,” She smoothed her thumb over his cheek, reassuring. “I want you, too. I want this.” She shifted minutely, tentative, right against that throbbing part of him.
His brows knit together, looking almost pained. “Gods, you can’t say things like that.” 
“It’s true,” She whispered, shifting against him again, deliciously slow. The slightest roll of her hips. It was enough to ruin him completely. “Please, Ominis.”
He nodded then, forehead pressed against hers, fists white-knuckled in the starched linen of her shirt. He let his hands fall to his sides, onto the tattered pillows of the loveseat and sighed. 
“Not here.” He planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You deserve something nicer.”
//
Ominis’ dorm was certainly nicer.
Clean and tidy to the point of almost being manic, just as she imagined it would be. She glanced over at the surrounding beds and noticed his side strikingly bare in comparison, devoid of the clutter of Quidditch posters, junk and other memorabilia that you would normally expect to find in a teenage boy’s room. 
His sheets were crisp and neatly-pressed, and laid back against his pillows, she could pick up the faint smell of vanilla and bergamot and, most strikingly, him.
He hovered over her there, his hands on either side of her head on the pillowcase, a pink flush dusting his cheekbones, uncertain. She found it awfully endearing. 
“Have you ever…?”
He shook his head, sheepish. “No.” 
She nodded. 
A gnawing feeling clawed itself inside his chest, something marred and ugly and possessive, a jealousy he knew he probably had no right to feel. “Have…you?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
His brows furrowed, confusion and surprise and a faint sense of relief etched into his features. “Really? You and Sebastian never…?”
She sputtered. “Me and Sebastian?”
“Er…yes? I assumed you two had already been—”
“Dear gods, no,” She laughed, as if the mere notion were hysterical. She looked at him bewildered. “Where on earth did you ever get that impression?” 
“I don’t know, you’re both always spending so much time together.” 
“As friends.” She choked. “If I’m being completely honest, I’ve always harbored a bit of a crush on you.” 
It was his turn to sputter. “On me?”
She smiled. “Yes, it’s a bit embarrassing, actually. I’m surprised Sebastian’s never told you. He’s tormented me about it since the moment he found out.” 
Ominis winced and let his head fall forward, voice muffled in the collar of her shirt. “Gods, I’ve been such an idiot.” 
“Well, that’s only natural,” She teased, raking her nails softly through the hair on his nape. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.” 
He picked his head up. “So, I…we could’ve been doing this, so much sooner?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Been wanting to get into my pants for very long, have you, Ominis?”
He groaned. “That’s not what I meant,” She watched as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, embarrassment tinging his cheeks. “I’ve liked you for quite a while.”
“Have you?” She grinned. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” He murmured. “A bit of pining was good for me. Humbling.” 
She tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Yes, I’m sure you’re not very used to not getting what you want, hm?”
“Mmh,” He hummed, non-committal, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Terribly spoiled, I’m afraid.”
“I won’t hold that against you, either.”
She laced her fingers behind his neck, tugging him forward to bring his lips down to hers again. Ominis could barely contain the euphoric feeling of relief in his chest, of completion, of blissful satisfaction in knowing the witch underneath him was his and only his. 
He let his hands wander, explore, caress, tugging her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt and running his hands over the creamy smooth expanse of her stomach. He let his lips roam with just as much fervor, trailing down the length of her neck, scraping biting kisses over her collarbone, over the soft curves of her jaw.
“Take this off me,” She pleaded in between kisses, breathless, and he would be a fool if he didn’t immediately oblige. Slender, deft fingers turned clumsy and unpracticed in the heat of the moment, fumbling over buttons and the zipper of her skirt with a lot more lack of finesse than he was used to doing most things in life. His heart was pounding too loud in his ears for him to care. 
If she was anything she was impatient, and he quickly learned this impatience would be the very bane of his existence, as she proceeded to grind her hips up to meet his every time he tried to pause and regain some level of composure. 
She seemed to take a form of sick gratification in the way he’d curse under his breath at the feeling of the soaked fabric of her knickers, rubbing back and forth against that stiff, aching part of him, nearly bringing him to completion.
He crawled down her body before she could torture him any longer, hooking his fingers into the hem of her knickers and tugging it down to pool at her ankles. He left a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses in his descent, dragging his tongue down the line of her sternum, slow and deliberate. 
She tensed. “You don’t have to—”
“Please,” He nosed at the soft curve of her stomach, his breath warm against her skin, eyes half-lidded behind blonde eyelashes. “I want to. Please let me.”
Her voice was quiet, anticipated. “Okay.”
It was all he needed to kiss her there, lips pressed to her dripping core, sucking just slightly, tentatively, just enough to make her gasp. His tongue was velvety smooth, purposefully slow, as if savoring it, savoring her.
“Tastes good,” He murmured against her cunt in a hum, lips sticky and glistening, voice hoarse and gravely with want. “Tastes s’good. Mmh.”
She couldn’t stifle her moans as he lapped at her firmer then, more focused, dragged the tip of his tongue and swirled it around that sensitive little bundle of nerves he had already deduced made her hips writhe and her hands tangle in his hair, pulling, pleading.
He didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but Ominis prided himself on being a very intuitive learner — and there was no better lesson than her nails raking over his scalp and her mewls muffled against the back of her hand every time he evidently did something  right with his tongue. In this more than anything, he was determined to get all O’s. 
“Oh, gods, Ominis,” She breathed out, and that was all it took for him to break, for him to push two fingers inside her cunt, wrap his lips around her clit, and suck. Hard, until her toes curled at either side of his hips on the bedding, and her head was thrown back onto the pillows, and she was repeating please, please, please like a prayer — as if she’d ever have to beg him for anything.
He pulled her over the edge with a groan against her cunt, fingers pressing into that little spot on her walls that made her vision white over with stars, melting her muscles into a puddle of ecstasy. Coaxed her through it, lapping at the wetness until she was reduced to shudders and breathy, shaky pants.
“You’re so beautiful,” He climbed over her, chest heaving, pressing kisses to her cheeks. He rambled praises, utterly sapless, euphoric, and if she didn’t know any better she’d think he was coming down from the high of his own orgasm with how giddy he sounded. “Oh my gods, you’re so unbelievably perfect. Sounded so good — tasted so good, fuck. You’re just—”
She kissed him then, not minding that she could taste herself on his tongue. Slow and sweet, her head dizzy with endorphins. He liked her like this.
Reaching down between them, she ran her hand down the placket of his briefs, palmed the evidence of his arousal, reveled in the way his lips faltered against hers. She dipped her fingers past the elastic of his waistband, and the whimper he let out when she finally wrapped her hand around him was nothing short of depraved.
“Want to be inside of you,” He pleaded, his hips rutting of their own accord against her palm, warm and slick with desire, a sticky bead of pre-cum pooling at the tip. He felt so thick in her hand. “Please, want— want it so bad.”
He couldn’t bear the restriction any longer, tugging his shorts down his thighs, exposing alabaster skin and flushed pink and so much of him she couldn’t pull her eyes away.
He notched himself at her entrance, lips hovering over hers, asking for permission without words, and all she could do was fervently nod to keep herself from begging.
He laced his fingers with hers as he slowly pushed in, gasps shared between their lips, foreheads pressed together. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him closer, urging him for more.
His voice was wrecked when he spoke. “Is this — am I hurting you? Is this alright?”
She shook her head. “You’re perfect —you feel so perfect.”
He groaned, surging forward to capture her lips in his, pouring every ounce of devotion and adoration into the way his tongue brushed against hers, as he slowly rocked his hips, in and out, cautious, shallow thrusts. 
“Please, more,” She whispered, quiet, needy, and he couldn’t help but oblige. He bottomed out inside of her, his head falling to her shoulder, and eased his hips back to meet hers with a sharp thrust. 
She was overwhelmed by the novel and absolutely foreign feeling of being so full. That dull sting where he was stretching her out around him, that pleasurable ache where he was pressing up into her walls — it was all revoltingly delicious. She never wanted it to stop. 
“Christ, you’re — fuck,”  Her fingers wrapped around his bicep for support, nails digging little crescent-shaped marks into his skin. “You’re so deep—oh my gods, please move, please, please move,”
He was half-convinced he’d cut out his own beating heart in that moment and present it to her if she asked. He braced himself with his fingers splayed warm and broad on her hip, holding maybe a bit too tightly, and fucked into her with steady, deep thrusts, her legs wrapped around his waist.
“Yes, yes, yes,” She gasped, his cock pressing deep into that sensitive spot inside of her. She could feel that winding knot behind her navel being pulled taut,  being stretched tighter and tighter until she felt like she might break. “Like that, just like that — fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” 
Ominis had by no means a dirty mouth, was never, ever crass by an definition of the word, but hearing her pleading in his ear, feeling her squeeze so tightly around him, slick and warm and utterly divine — he couldn’t stop the endless litany spilling from his mouth, delirious from how good she felt as he thrust into her thoroughly, his self-restraint slipping out of him like grains of sand through open fingers.
“You’re so perfect. My angel, oh my gods, all mine. Mine, mine, mine. Gorgeous, so gorgeous, you’re so tight, so tight around me. Fuck, I can’t stop, I can’t — I need —I need you, I love this, I love this so much, fuck, fuck, fuck, I love this, I love—”
His words died on a strangled moan as he finished inside of her, pumping into her until he pulled her over the edge along with him, electrifying her nerve-endings into bliss. He pressed his lips to hers like he needed her to breathe, like the only oxygen he desired was the ones she would give him from her very own lungs.
She spoke first, dazed. “That was—”
He let out a laugh, soft and pleasure-rough, the slightest bit drowsy. “Amazing. Brilliant. You’re absolutely brilliant.” 
She returned his gleaming smile with her own, teasing.
“You’ve only just noticed?”
//
It took one look. The raucous bustle of other students still disembarking around him, yet his attention was trained on his two friends smiling and waiting up for him. 
His eyes darted between the two, briefly combing over the faint bites of purple on her neck that was peeking out just slightly from beneath the green and silver of her scarf, then finally dipped to where their hands were surreptitiously clasped behind layers of cloaks, and he immediately knew.
Sebastian dropped his suitcase on the weathered boards of the dock with a thunk and ran up to clap his hands on his friends’ shoulders with a sly smile and a satisfied glint in his eyes.
“Fucking took you two long enough.”
2K notes · View notes
karajaynetoday · 2 months
Text
hey now, you're an all-star | jack hughes
Tumblr media
it took one month of watching hockey for me to write fic. lmao. classic. good vibes.
thank you @littledrummeraussie for proofreading, love you angie 💖
READ PART TWO HERE
READ PART THREE HERE
word count: 2.8k
Warnings:  i don't think it needs any? just forgive my limited knowledge of hockey and canada i suppose? mentions of anxiety related to university? it's a bit angsty bc let's be real, do i ever know how to write anything else?
(This is a fem reader insert)
More writing here (soz that the masterlist is not up to date lol) | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here
You’d known Jack Hughes for as long as you could remember. He stood up for you in the playground at kindergarten, when a bigger kid pushed you off the swings; you returned the favour by saving him from a spider on his backpack. Ever since, you’d always had each other’s backs. 
And for as long as you’d known Jack, you’d been able to tell when he was upset about something. His lips did this thing, not quite a pout, but nowhere near the easy smile you were used to seeing. He’d pull his sleeves down over his hands, and his breathing would be… deeper, somehow. He could never meet your gaze, either. 
You were scrolling through Instagram on your couch at home, where you were supposed to be studying, when you saw a video of Jack from the Devils fundraiser event, answering media questions about his injury and when he’d be back on the ice. He laughed and smiled for the cameras, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. They asked about the all-star game, and you could feel his hesitation in answering. Jack tried to be positive and assure everyone that he had a chance of playing, but you both knew that wasn’t very likely. 
You sent the video to Jack with a comment bagging out his hairstyle, hoping to lift his mood a little, before dropping your phone onto the couch and drawing your attention back to the economics case study you were supposed to be analysing. 
You’d stayed in Toronto for university, while Jack headed off to New Jersey after his draft year. Long distance friendship took a lot of getting used to, but at least you were still in the same timezone, and the NHL schedule meant that Jack was contractually obliged to visit you a few times each year. Quinn too, despite how much he complained about the intensity of hockey mania in Toronto. In fact, the entire Hughes family sometimes made the trek, which you knew your parents not-so-secretly loved. It reminded you of the warmth you felt growing up in each other’s homes, filled with laughter and joy.
The little focus you had for your economics homework was broken when your phone began to vibrate beside you, Jack’s name flashing on the screen. You rolled your eyes with a smile, before leaning over to answer the video call. 
“Good morning, sunshine!” You greeted your best friend, who was already scowling at you. 
“Is it a good morning, though? When all I do is get criticism from my supposed best friend?” 
“It’s not criticism, more… encouragement, I’d say.” You teased back, Jack rolling his eyes at you.
“Encouraging what, exactly?”
“Encouraging you to make better personal style choices, especially related to hair. You are a millionaire, after all. Least you can do is get a decent haircut.” 
“Oh, my apologies. Didn’t realise I was getting encouragement from the queen of high fashion. Is that a coffee stain on that shirt?” Jack’s eyes glanced down at what little he could see of your outfit in the video call, before poking his tongue out at you.
“Hey, I’m a university student. This is high fashion, I’ll have you know. Anyway, why aren’t you at training?” You asked, cocking your head to the side in curiosity. 
Jack’s lips pressed together, and he looked away from his phone and you; you silently cursed yourself for asking the question. Even though Jack had been injured, he’d been pretty dedicated to his rehab and recovery, so it was a little odd for him to be calling you in the morning rather than be at a physio session. 
“More scans this afternoon so no session this morning. Trying to decide if I can play next weekend or if I just have to show up and look pretty.” Jack tried to joke, but you could tell that it wasn’t something he found humour in. 
“Good thing that looking pretty comes naturally to you, J.” 
“Oh, so now I’m pretty? I thought I had shit hair?!”
“You can both be a pretty face and have shit hair, buddy. They’re not mutually exclusive.”
“Mutually exclusive? Is that a fancy term you learnt at school?” 
You laughed at that, earning a Jack smile in return. You continued chatting back and forth for another 30 minutes or so, before Jack had to go to his scans. 
You managed to get through the rest of your economics homework, but your mind kept wandering back to Jack and his frustration at being injured. He’d been an All-Star before, so it wasn’t that specifically he was frustrated about missing, you were certain. The difference this year was Quinn’s selection in the All-Star weekend, and the building anticipation around so-called “Team Hughes” that would see Jack and Quinn on the same team for the first time in their NHL careers. That’s probably what Jack was upset about, because as much as they chirp each other and are fiercely competitive, there’s nothing Jack Hughes loves more than his brothers. You knew that he’d be in his head overthinking everything and convincing himself that he was letting Quinn down, somehow, despite it being beyond his control. 
The only further communication you got from Jack that day was a thumbs-down text message, which told you all you needed to know. You were sporadically in touch a few times throughout the week, and before you knew it, it was the day everyone was flying in for All-Star weekend.
You’d managed to persuade your parents that a full-blown neighbourhood party was not necessary, and instead convinced them to accept Quinn’s invitation to a lowkey but nice dinner downtown near the hotel where he and Jack were staying. The dinner was something you were looking forward to all week, but you hadn’t anticipated two things: accidentally deleting half your economics essay the night before it was due and having to stay up until 3am to finish it; and the butterflies that you were feeling when you were getting ready for dinner. Why on earth were you so nervous? Seeing Jack and Quinn after a while was usually something that excited you, not stressed you out. 
You had just pulled on your dress and finished wrangling your hair when your phone pinged with a message from Jack. 
Have you looked at the menu for this place? We need to order a side of the loaded mac n cheese pls and thx 
I thought you were a high performance athlete? But of course, mac n cheese is a MUST
Correct, my body is a temple. A temple of mac n cheese. Mac is a carb, cheese is calcium for my bones. Winners all around. See ya soon x
Xo
It was freezing outside, so you took an Uber from your university apartment to the restaurant. You were running behind, thanks to traffic, and then you almost toppled over on the pavement outside due to the wet weather. Between that and your sleep deprivation, you honestly wanted nothing more than to go home, put your pyjamas on and cry; but you plastered a smile on your face and headed inside the restaurant. 
The hostess greeted you warmly, and offered to take your coat once you established that your parents had already arrived and were seated on a table towards the back of the restaurant, and you could see the backs of Jack and Quinn as you approached them. Everyone stood up to greet you with hugs and kisses, and the butterflies sparked again when Jack pulled out the chair next to his for you to sit down. Jack and Quinn both had nice sweaters on with collared shirts, and you were quietly glad you’d decided to wear a dress rather than the jeans you’d initially picked out. 
“How did your essay go, sweetheart? I know economics isn’t your favourite…” Your mother enquired, obviously unaware of your crisis the night before. 
You gave her a tight-lipped smile and took a sip of the diet coke in front of you (that Jack must’ve ordered for you, no doubt) before mumbling something about getting it sorted and hoping for the best. Your dad swiftly changed the subject to the weekend’s festivities, excitedly asking Quinn about his plans for the All-Star draft, but you could feel Jack’s eyes on you. You met his gaze and subtly shook your head, silently asking for him to save his questions for later. Jack frowned at you, but complied. 
The dinner felt like it went quickly, but also went for hours. Your stomach hurt from laughing (and probably too much mac and cheese), as Jack and Quinn regaled your parents with stories of their seasons and their plans for the next summer off in Michigan, where your two families would join each other for a month or so of adventures. You found yourself smiling as your dad and the Hughes brothers comically argued over who would pay the bill, before Jack excused himself to the bathroom and sneakily paid the bill on his way there. 
Jack and Quinn’s hotel was walking distance from the restaurant, and they excitedly invited you and your parents to come and see the fancy suite they’d been gifted for the weekend. Your mother made some excuse about traffic on the drive home and promised to come and see it some other time, but nudged you in your side as she told you to go and check it out. You were so tired and ready for bed, but reluctantly agreed; your window of opportunity to spend time with Jack was closing, so you figured you may as well make the most of it.
The butterflies in your stomach flitted around as Jack helped you into your coat before you headed outside the restaurant and bid your parents farewell. You fell into step in between the brothers as they traipsed back toward the hotel, conversation flowing easily as Quinn asked about your college classes and you asked him about the latest book he was reading. Jack was silent as you walked the few blocks before arriving at the hotel, and he gently placed his hand onto your back as you were guided through the hotel front door and into the elevator. 
Your jaw dropped when Quinn swiped his key card and you all entered the hotel suite. They weren’t joking about it being fancy, holy shit. 
The floor to ceiling windows had incredible views of the city skyline, with a very comfortable looking couch in the living area facing the view. Two doors at either side of the living room lead to bedrooms with luxurious linens, and the marble bathrooms were impeccably finished. 
Jack was grinning as he watched you take it all in, leaning up against the door frame to his bedroom as you stood near the window and gaped at the views. Quinn had flopped down on the couch and was texting on his phone. 
“Can they gift this to you year-round? I’d like to live here…” You mused, shaking your head at how insane this hockey lifestyle could be. 
“We could probably just buy it for you.” Jack said nonchalantly, as he wandered over to stand beside you at the window. 
“Yeah, if you want. They’d probably charge us more because I’m a Canuck, though.” Quinn deadpanned, earning a laugh from you and an eye-roll from Jack.
“Speaking of, the guys are all catching up in Petey’s room, so I think I’ll head down there. See you tomorrow after the draft, sugar plum.” Quinn pulled you into a hug, and your heart burst at him using your childhood nickname (which came from one ill-fated ballet performance and you insisted you hated, but secretly loved being called). 
You could’ve sworn you saw Quinn wink at Jack before he left the hotel room, but then again, the sleep deprivation could also be sending you loopy. 
“Wanna watch a movie?” Jack asked, moving to stand behind you and loop his arms around your waist as you still faced the window. Your heart rate shot through the roof as he pulled you closer, and nestled his head in between your neck and shoulder. You cringed as you realised he could probably feel your pulse beating fast. 
“Sure, but no blaming me if I fall asleep on you, sorryyyyy.” You awkwardly maneuvered yourself out of Jack’s embrace and walked over to the couch, sitting down on it and removing your shoes. 
“The first time we’ve seen each other in MONTHS and you’re going to fall asleep? Am I that boring? Sheesh.” Jack drawled, watching you from where he stood.
“Yes.” You stuck your tongue out at him, but lost it to a yawn which made you both laugh. 
“You know I love you, J. I would happily pull an all-nighter with you, but I don’t think two in a row is probably good for me.”
“Two in a row? What, where you out partying hard last night?” Jack’s voice trailed off as he wandered off into the bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. You heard a drawer open and a light thud onto the floor, and your throat tightened when you realised Jack was changing his clothes. God, you’d gotten changed in front of each other a million times. Why was your brain making everything so weird tonight?
“Not quite. Had a disaster that involved accidentally deleting my entire essay, sobbing for an hour, then staying up until 3am to write the whole thing. Living the dream, as per usual.” You rattled off, trying to sound nonchalant about, even though just thinking about last night made you nauseous with anxiety. Your nonchalance was clearly unconvincing, as Jack came back out of the bedroom clad in a hoodie and sweats and bee-lined for you, his face covered in concern. 
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s fine, I promise. All part of the college experience.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince yourself or Jack more. He couldn’t either, but instead of pushing the issue, he threw a hoodie at your head and laughed when you looked offended. 
“I’m definitely falling asleep if I put this on, by the way. You know I love being cozy. Cozy is my natural state of being.” You pulled your hair up into a loose bun using the hair tie on your wrist, before pulling the black Devils hoodie over your head. 
Jack slotted himself beside you on the couch and reached his arm over your shoulders, finding the remote with his other hand and navigating the ridiculously large TV onto Netflix. 
“Fine by be, sugarplum. I’d rather know you’re getting sleep here than send you home to stress yourself out more.”  Jack mused, his fingers absentmindedly stroking your arm while he found the latest season of a TV show you both loved to watch and pressed play.
“I’m not stres - it was just one essay - I promise I’m fine.” You sputtered, tripping over your words when Jack locked eyes with you, his gaze empathetic but all-knowing. 
“Besides, I’m not the only one in the room worth worrying about.” You said softly, nudging Jack’s side gently. Jack rolled his lips between his teeth, and sighed; he put down the remote and pulled his hoodie sleeves over his hands. 
“But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You’re not letting anyone down, though. Quinn doesn’t think that.” You continued, softly, not wanting to cause tension. 
Jack sighed deeply again and pulled his arm away from you, leaning forward and rubbing his face with both hands. 
“You don’t know what Quinny’s thinking, sugar. And it’s not just Quinn, it’s the fucking journalists, and Bratter’s vacation being ruined, and goddamn Michael Bublé being disappointed in me, and - just - fucking all of it.” Jack exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 
You didn’t know what to say, because you could tell that Jack wasn’t in a mood that you could talk him down out of. But you could tell he needed comfort, needed reassurance, needed to know that you still had his back. Ever since kindergarten. 
You grabbed the back of Jack’s hoodie and gently tugged it, and he leaned back against the couch. You tapped Jack’s legs next, and he moved them up onto the other side of the L-shaped couch, so he was properly reclining. You paused, trying to figure out how to position yourself without being literally on top of Jack, but while your brain was running a million miles a minute, Jack’s hand found yours and yanked you towards him gently. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before adjusting yourself between Jack’s body and the side of the couch. Jack’s arm found a home over your hips and settled gently on your stomach, pulling your back against his chest. You felt his breath on your neck as you both wriggled around, trying to get comfortable.
 
“Is this okay, sugar?” Jack’s voice was barely a whisper, directly into your ear. You didn’t trust your voice not to squeak a response so you simply nodded, trying desperately to calm your fast beating heart.
You rested your hand on top of Jack’s and gently squeezed, feeling yourself starting to lull to sleep. Despite the butterflies and your heart jumping out of your chest, you somehow had never felt more at peace, right in this moment.
This was safe, this was calm. This was home. 
676 notes · View notes
chaerryeoniis · 1 year
Text
one, two, three | l.dh
Tumblr media
genre ❥ highschool au, best friends to lovers, rom-com
pairings ❥ nerd! donghyuck x cheerleader! reader
word count ❥19.0k (my longest fic ever can you believe it)
synopsis ❥ In which you devise three different ways to get your best friend to fall in love with you, but things never really go quite as planned.
warnings ❥ none! it’s tooth-rotting fluff. the both of them might be a bit frustrating at times but this might be my favourite haechan out of all my fics so far :)
info ❥ please let me know what you think about the individual scenes. also i let myself go a little crazy over the entire running theme of literature and little women in this one
Tumblr media
“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that any unattached high schooler in possession of decent grades, must be in want of a relationship.”
The way Karina says it confidently amuses and impresses you in equal measure, but Ningning only scoffs. “That is most definitely not what Austen wrote. Don’t let Mrs Kim hear that.”
Mrs Kim is the literature teacher for your entire level, a kindly woman in her fifties who’s lenient with assignments. You think she’s much too passionate about classics to be stuck teaching a few hundred teenagers who can barely comprehend the intricacies of classical writing, but life has a funny way of putting people in places they’re not meant to be.
Besides you, of course. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be. The first table from the left of the canteen, nearest to the food line, and directly under the air-conditioning. It’s also exclusively reserved for the cheer team, while the opposite is for the rugby team.
You never thought you would subscribe to something as ridiculous as a canteen seating hierarchy, but you’ll gladly reap the benefits.
One thing that might be nice, however, is if the meal options were improved. You’re not sure how well pasta salad and a carton of lukewarm milk is supposed to sustain you the entire day, but it’ll have to do for now.
Maybe you’ll drag Donghyuck for a ramen run later. Speaking of which.
“Have any of you seen Donghyuck?” you ask, and there’s a chorus of shaking heads from the rest of the team, before Ningning pouts, looking at you. “Him again? You’re always asking about Donghyuck,” she teases, and you roll your eyes. “That’s because I can never find him,” you mutter, before putting down your cutlery. There’s no longer much of an appetite, especially when you have more important things to do.
When you stand up, Karina raises an eyebrow, and you grin. “I’ll be right back.”
The din from the canteen becomes softer once the glass doors close behind you. Your sneakers are squeaking against the shiny floor, noticeably conspicuous due to the silence. There’s only one place even quieter than the hallways during lunch break, and it’s like there’s a direct path guiding you to Donghyuck.
When you spot a familiar bag resting on the floor, you smile. “Bingo.”
It takes less than ten seconds for you to reach Donghyuck’s desk, and another five for him to realise you’re standing there, hands resting on your hips. He blinks, before setting the book in his hands down gently. “Oh, hey. Take a seat,” he says, gesturing to the empty space opposite.
The boy’s dressed in his usual black hoodie and ripped jeans, white reading glasses resting gently on his nose. He had picked them out a few years ago in a shop, after you had finally convinced him to do something about his color vision. The glasses suit him more than you expect, and it’s refreshing seeing them compared to his usual preference of contact lenses.
You slide into the booth opposite until you’re facing him, chin in hand. “You’re reading on lunch break?”
He sets down the book the moment you sit down, pushing away his things to make space for your elbows.
Donghyuck’s the epitome of a model student to you, considering his stellar grades and position as president of student council. It’s not in a way that’s overbearing, but rather plain and simple - the boy is just more intelligent and capable than the majority of people in his age group.
Still, reading on lunch break seems like a bit of an anomaly, considering he likes food as much as you do.
“I’ve got a council meeting after school, but I need to finish this reading for English. Which is why I’m slaving away,” he sighs out, and you look away, humming in thought. “Need me to get you food? I was going to ask you out for a ramen run, but I guess you can’t do that now.”
He shakes his head. “Nope, I’m good,” he assures, and you arch an eyebrow.
“You sure?” You’re looking at him intently now, voice distrusting. Donghyuck looks as if he’s hesitating.
“Gimbap…would be nice,” he admits, and you smile triumphantly. “Got it.” There’s a perk in your step as you rise from the table and tell him you’ll be right back.
By the time you buy it and deliver it to him, the bell rings, and you’re left saying a quick goodbye before Donghyuck rushes off. It’s harder seeing him when he gets busy, but you chalk it down to the fact that during slower months, an inordinate amount of your time is spent with Donghyuck.
And when you finally finish cheer practice in the evening, you notice a plastic bag resting next to your backpack. Opening it makes you grin slightly, immediately seeing one pack of your favourite ramen and a marinated egg, along with iced coffee.
“Who’s that from?” Karina asks, and you grin slightly.
“Donghyuck.”
You can’t hide the smile on your face when you say it.
Tumblr media
The first time Donghyuck got a job, he couldn’t shut up about it.
It’s funny the more he thinks about it, considering it wasn’t even really an actual one - his mother had offered two dollars an hour for him to make sure the dog didn’t trample on her precious flowers.
But for twelve-year-old him, it seemed like the most daunting, impressive task he had been given, one that he was determined to embark on with fervour.
It took less than four days before he realised how aimless it was, and spent more time sitting on the porch with his Switch when his mother wasn’t looking.
But Donghyuck supposes he doesn’t particularly regret taking on the below-minimum-wage job, not when it allowed him to meet you.
“Is this your dog?”
Donghyuck checks twice to make sure his game progress is saved before looking up, only to be greeted by the sight of a girl no older than he is, hair tied in a neat ponytail and a white sundress reaching down to your knees. “Um, yeah,” he mutters, voice not unfriendly but awkward in the way that most boys his age are.
He may be extroverted, but Donghyuck quite literally has no idea who you are, considering he’s never seen you in school. Besides, the only person he’s interacted with all this summer is Jaemin, who occasionally invites him over to play Super Smash Bros. “What’s her name?”
“Bambi.”
You wrinkle your nose at his reply. “Why would you name your dog after another animal?”
His posture straightens imperceptibly, somehow feeling the need to defend himself against your judgement.
“Why not?” He challenges, watching as you hesitate slightly, before seeming to acquiesce, giving Bambi a few affectionate pats on the head. At your silence, Donghyuck sets his gaming console down, elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward.
“What’s your name then?”
You look at him, as if almost surprised at the boy’s curiosity. “Y/N. L/N Y/N. I just moved into the house next to yours,” you reply, Bambi now sitting obediently next to your shoes.
Donghyuck’s not sure whether to be disappointed that your name isn’t weird, but instead very pretty. The syllables are unfamiliar, but they roll off his tongue nicely.
He’s not sure if you’re as fascinated by his name as he is yours - Donghyuck isn’t a particularly unique name, but he can’t stop himself from practising calling yours, until even his mother notices it at dinner.
That summer, you spent a lot of time with Donghyuck - the heatwaves kept most people inside and there weren’t many places a twelve-year-old could go on their own. You quickly got used to stuffy afternoons spent in his living room playing card games, or having Donghyuck attempt baking cookies with you in the kitchen.
And when the holiday ended, heralded by the beginning of autumn, you found yourself still sticking to Donghyuck, even as the both of you navigated a new school year and branched out into different friend groups.
Six years later, the both of you were still side-by-side, even as other classmates came and went and your sixth-grade school uniforms gave way to a lax high school dress code.
On the brighter side, Donghyuck’s area of employment has improved - he’s now making much more than minimum wage helping to transcribe songs for a local indie label, and it’s a job that he enjoys plenty, considering how he’s allowed to take home a few extra albums each month that don’t sell.
It also helps that the employee benefits are good, and the manager, Johnny, is pretty chill with whatever Donghyuck does as long as it’s not a direct violation of company policy. He suspects it’s because the man grew up in Chicago, and is long used to troublemakers. Here, Donghyuck’s job is simple - to help make good music, and he’s fulfilling it to the best of his ability.
You find Donghyuck in his usual position at the counter, headphones over his head and an unplaceable tune escaping from his pursed lips. His fingers are drumming to an invisible rhythm that you can’t hear, but you watch him with a fond smile on your face anyways.
He’s only played snippets of his own work here and there for you, but the boy’s talent is undeniable. Still, Donghyuck only casts you an indulgent look of appreciation each time you tell him he’s just as capable of starting a career as the artists he’s helping.
You don’t tell him that you secretly think he’s even better and would buy his records over anyone’s any day.
When you tap his shoulder, Donghyuck spins around in his chair, hand placed over his heart for theatrical effect. “You scared me,” he says, and you only grin. “Came to drop off the stuff you needed.”
He takes the bag from you, peering inside before looking back up and smiling gratefully. “You’re an actual lifesaver,” he gushes as he takes out the extra discs and a badly-needed charger, along with a change of clothes.
“I know,” you reply smugly, and Donghyuck rolls his eyes. He’s already used to the back-and-forth bickering between the both of you, but he’s thankful nonetheless, knowing that you must have dropped whatever task you were busy with to rush down to the store.
Until your phone buzzes, and you pick it up with a concerned glance, wincing apologetically as you gather your things. “Sorry. Karina called an emergency meeting. I’ll see you after work?”
Donghyuck nods, watching as you shove your phone into your tote bag. Right as you turn to leave, however, he places a hand on your elbow, halting your steps.
It’s only then that he notices the claw clip in your hair, a transparent one with little flowers dotted throughout. He doesn’t usually see you with your bangs pushed back, not since middle school, when your mom forced you to get that one bad haircut.
But it looks much better now, and Donghyuck finds his throat turning dry at the sight of you, before he remembers what he had planned to do.
Being the naturally affectionate person he is, Donghyuck has placed soft pecks on your cheek before, often followed up by you quickly shoving him away. But he hasn’t done it for almost a year, for the sole reason that if he allows himself to kiss you on the cheek, he might just want more.
He’s not sure what it means, the way his heart strangely twists each time he looks at you, in a way that’s both pleasurable and painful. It started when you had ditched practice to accompany him on the school rooftop, just to listen to him complain about the new student council treasurer.
The way you had thrown your head back and laughed at his never-ending rant, elbows linked with him as you swung your feet over the edge, taking a sip of the strawberry yoghurt drink shared between the both of you.
Donghyuck doesn’t even remember what he was angry at Jisung for, only that you looked extra pretty that day.
And it’s moments like this where he wants to kiss you even more, and he can’t be bothered to try and hold himself back any longer.
To his surprise, however, you don’t react with your usual expression of disgust, instead remaining silent, your wide-eyed expression searing itself into his mind. It fills him with a quiet, brimming sort of anticipation, and he swears your gaze darts to his lips, just briefly. Maybe if his kiss just shifts a few inches over-
Donghyuck’s train of thought is interrupted by the sound of the door opening, signalling a customer. You quickly pull back, and he tries not to make his irritation at the disturbance too obvious.
“I should go,” you say to no one in particular, before grabbing your tote bag and rushing through the glass doors of the store, the bell signalling your departure. He finds himself smiling at your frazzled state, and wondering if it means something. If it means that he might have a chance, no matter how minuscule.
He doesn’t even realise the corners of his lips are tilted up, until Johnny comes out from the storeroom, the new equipment balanced in his arms.
“Did something good happen? You look pleased,” the taller man comments, looking over at Donghyuck who runs his thumb over the tote bag you left for him.
The younger boy only grins in response, a sort of plaintive expression on his face as he casts a longing glance at the door where you had just been moments ago.
“Yeah. I guess you can say that.”
Tumblr media
The realisation hits you at nine on a Friday evening, and it’s surprisingly easy to swallow. You’re going to fail math.
You shove the textbooks in the corner of your shelf, vowing to never pick them up again. However, the exam date that sits on your calendar circled in red serves as a reminder that you’ll likely have to take your words back soon, if not immediately.
When the doorbell rings, it’s the perfect distraction for you.
Spending time with Donghyuck at the end of each week has quickly become a welcome respite from the monotony of school, and you’re buzzing with excitement as you rush down the stairs.
“I’m not sure why you still ring the doorbell, considering you just come in by yourself,” you say, as you pour the popcorn out into a bowl and hand it to him. Donghyuck shrugs. “Courtesy. Just in case you need time to hide a dead body or something. What movie are we watching today?”
A grin makes its way onto your face at the question, and Donghyuck’s eyes flood with suspicion before he lets out a groan of exasperation. “Do you not get tired of watching it?”
You shake your head, smiling. It’s the sixth time you’ve made him watch Little Women, and despite the fact that Donghyuck doesn’t take literature, you think he might be starting to grow partial to the movie.
It’s coming close to midnight by the time the end credits roll, and your bowl of popcorn lies empty on the table.
“I still think Jo and Laurie are meant to be, by the way,” he points out, and you whip your head towards him indignantly from where you’re seated on the couch, legs thrown over his lap. “You’re wrong,” you retort. Despite the late hour, both of you are surprisingly alert. You from the two coffees, and Donghyuck because- well, he pretty much survives on three hours a day.
“But he’s just settling for Amy.”
“Amy makes Laurie a better person, that’s why they’re together. Jo and Laurie would never work out. They’re meant to be best friends, not lovers,” you explain, watching as Donghyuck’s expression shifts to something unreadable.
“But there’s so much passion between the both of them. Don’t you-” he mutters, before leaning over, “-want something like that?”
His question weighs heavy on your mind as he moves closer, until the both of you are a hair’s breadth away from each other.
The sudden loss of distance between you and Donghyuck makes your breath hitch, the air charged with an unfamiliar tension, one that leaves your heart racing. You have no idea what it is, other than the fact that Donghyuck is much too close for comfort. He looks almost disappointed when you stand up abruptly, narrowly avoiding spilling the drink in your hand.
“I- I’m going to get more snacks,” you stutter out, barely gathering your composure before you rush off to the kitchen. When you’re inside, however, you quickly place your hands over your cheeks, eyes widening in alarm when you realise they’re warm.
You’re blushing. For some god-awful reason, being with Donghyuck has made your heart rate speed up and your face flush, which can only mean one thing.
You’ve fallen sick.
There’s only another possible alternative, and you really don’t want to consider the implications of that.
“Y/N.”
At the sound of your name, you turn around, the perfect image of a deer caught in headlights. It’s only then that you notice Donghyuck’s dressed in a loose band tee and sweatpants.
It’s an outfit that you’ve seen him wear a thousand times, and yet, you can feel a nervous lump form in your throat at the sight of him.
“You were taking really long in the kitchen. Is something wrong?” he asks, eyes curious as he looks at you.
Your mouth feels like it’s full of sand as you struggle to find the words to explain. “I- I think I’m sick.”
At that statement, concern becomes apparent on Donghyuck’s face as he strides over to you, placing a hand gently on your forehead to track your temperature. The sensation of his palm against your forehead floods you with regret, however, for the sole reason that you feel like you’re about to go into cardiac arrest.
“Your temperature feels fine. Do you feel unwell anywhere?” he questions insistently, but you’re too dazed as you continue to lean against the kitchen island, the marble cold against your back.
You need to get out of this situation. Immediately. You duck abruptly, Donghyuck’s palm falling from your forehead to his side.
“I just remembered I have an assignment I need to rush,” you hastily blurt, and he makes a confused face at your change of topic, before shrugging. “I can help you,” he suggests, and you shake your head aggressively at that.
“It’s okay. I’m really good at math.”
You’re lying. It’s a blatant lie, and from the way that Donghyuck stares at you, you know he knows that it’s absolute nonsense. But he seems to relent, perhaps due to your frazzled appearance.
“Okay. Take some Panadol or something if you’re not feeling well. I’ll see you on Monday?”
“Yeah. See you,” you breathe out, watching as he turns away and exits the kitchen.
The front door clicks shut reassuringly a few moments later, and you let yourself sink to the floor in relief.
Tumblr media
Donghyuck doesn’t message you for the rest of the night, something that you’re grateful for. Despite his physical absence, however, the boy resolutely refuses to leave your mind, even as you force yourself to clean up the coffee table and return the snacks to their designated places on the pantry shelf.
It’s only when you’re standing over the sink, red popcorn bowl between your two hands, that your cheeks darken again at the thought of him moving closer to you, eyes searching yours in the darkness of the room.
The both of you have had hundreds of movie nights at this point, the catalogue almost emptied and favourite movies repeated over and over again. Like how the both of you always force each other to watch The Conjuring on Halloween, Donghyuck still screaming at each jumpscare despite how he knows what's coming. The end of the midterms means watching The Kissing Booth, even if you poke fun at him for it.
You don’t mind repeating them over and over again, because it’s Donghyuck. Even sitting with him in complete, utter silence would be enjoyable.
The glow coming from the living room catches your attention then, and you trudge towards the couch to grab the remote before realising that you and Donghyuck never finished the movie before you freaked out and he left.
In a split-second decision, you decide to press play, the house dead silent save for the dialogue between both characters. You only realise seconds later that it’s the scene on the hill, the one where Laurie confesses to Jo.
You’re unable to tear your eyes away from the screen, the scene suddenly feeling a little too real, meaning something more than the previous times that you’ve watched it. Destined to be friends, never lovers. That was exactly what you told Donghyuck.
But you’re starting to think that you might be dead wrong.
Tumblr media
You’re quickly learning that while Karina and Ningning may be encouraging during practice, they’re not as supportive when it comes to your personal life. The latter is staring at you with an expression of disbelief on her face, while Karina simply lets out a tired sigh.
”So…the answer’s no?” you ask, a tinge of hope still sneaking in.
“No, Y/N, you can’t be allergic to a person. That’s not how it works,” Ningning states, looking at you as if you’ve gone mad. “Who even is this about?” Karina asks, and you wince slightly at the question.
“Donghyuck,” you finally admit after long enough, nervously taking a sip of your juice.
“Sounds to me like you just have feelings for him,” Ningning interjects, and you set down your bottle, looking at her. “Not possible.”
“More possible than you being allergic to him.”
Karina’s words successfully shut you up, and you sink back into the chair. “Okay. Maybe I like him. A little bit. But it’s never going to work out,” you whine.
“Why not?”
“Because we’re friends, and he- how can I like a boy who spends more time looking at his gaming computer than me?”
“Most boys like gaming. Jeno’s the exact same, if you haven’t realised,” Karina retorts, and you reflexively turn your head to the other table, where the middle linebacker sits. Contrary to his intimidating exterior, the boy is surprisingly nice, and a good boyfriend to Karina. You’ve never seen her happier, except for the day when they became an official couple. But no matter.
“He likes physics, Karina. Physics. The boy tried to give me a lecture on thermodynamics. What part of that is attractive to you?”
She winces at that, and you bask in the momentary feeling of victory, before Ningning interjects. “Opposites attract. You’re an arts student, and he’s in science. A match made in heaven. You’re just scared you’ll get rejected, won’t you?”
And as always, Ningning hits the nail on the head directly. The fear of rejection feels all too real, especially when you know that Donghyuck has barely even shown an ounce of interest in anything romantic with anyone, let alone you, the girl who’s been his best friend for close to a decade.
You’re sure that he cares for you, but all and any affection he feels is strictly delineated within the insurmountable boundaries of platonic friendship.
You’re silent, staring off blankly into space until someone settles next to you. Giselle, youngest member of the cheer team but scarily good at tumbling, enough for you to take one look at her and sign her acceptance slip. She warmed up to you quickly after the both of you had been paired up for a group project, and the girl’s quick to notice the sombre atmosphere in the air.
“Boy problems?” She asks, looking at Karina, who nods, angling her chin towards you. “Let me guess - you like Donghyuck but you don’t think he reciprocates your feelings,” she states, and your dejection is briefly replaced by incredulity. “How did you know?”
“You’re terribly obvious, Y/N. There’s only one boy in your life - consider the fact that you’ve completely ignored the advances of half of the guys on the rugby team?”
“They don’t make any advances,” you mutter. Sure, Minhyung may have lent you that one umbrella, and Yangyang’s always asking for your notes in History, but that doesn’t mean anything.
“That’s because everyone quickly gave up after seeing you and Donghyuck,” Giselle explains, and you run a hand through your hair, before regretting it slightly when you realise it’s likely messed up the styling that you had done.
“I just- I swear I didn’t feel anything for him like three months ago. But there was that one time he sneaked into my class to take notes because I had a headache, and also he’s just so-”
“So?” Ningning leans over, waiting for you to finish the sentence, and you close your eyes in embarrassment out of what you’re about to say.
“-attractive. He’s so attractive,” you confess, watching as Karina bites back a laugh. You’re not entirely sure when exactly Donghyuck started taking a specific interest in fashion, figuring out more ways to style his hair than simply letting it fall over his glasses.
“I guess, for a physics nerd, he is cute,” she acquiesces, and you sit up indignantly. “He’s not a nerd! Do you know he can play the drums? And he’s really good at singing.”
Karina leans back reflexively at your outburst, mischief glinting in her eyes as you sink back down. “This is so embarrassing,” you whine, letting out a groan of anguish as Ningning looks on sympathetically.
At your forlorn expression, the youngest cheerleader turns to you and grabs your hands in hers, like some sort of messiah.
“Do you trust me?” Giselle asks, and you nod hesitantly, even though you can’t help but feel like you’re being led into some sort of trap.
“I’ve seen this work hundreds of times. If you do this, I promise Lee Donghyuck will be in love with you by the time winter break rolls around,” she promises, and you suck in a breath at the prospect of it, of getting Donghyuck to see you in a light that isn’t friendship.
Winter break. That’s six months away, which is a little under two hundred days. Barely a fraction of the time you’ve known Donghyuck, but it’ll have to count. “What do I have to do?” You ask, and Giselle grins, her smile reminding you a bit of a comic villain.
“Just three things. Simple, really.”
Tumblr media
#1 LEARN ABOUT HIS INTERESTS (PREFERABLY FROM HIM)
The first one is easy. You know Donghyuck’s likes and dislikes from memory, from his personal preferences to the things that make him uncomfortable. He’s easy to please in terms of music, though he gravitates more towards smooth, sultry vocals compared to your playlists of upbeat pop. With regards to food, he’s especially nice to you when you buy him chocolate biscuit snacks, and the only thing he can’t tolerate is celery.
His favourite subjects? Physics and math, though if he had to pick an arts, it would be music. His hobbies include singing, gaming and playing the drums, which he somehow manages to fit in despite the already jam-packed schedule that makes up his life.
When you had duly recited that to Giselle, she hadn’t been sure whether to be concerned or impressed. But she wanted you to take it a step up, which was why you were now in Donghyuck’s room on a Sunday afternoon, arms crossed as he stares back at you.
“What the fuck?”
“Why not?”
Donghyuck shakes his bangs away from the sides of his face, before frowning. “You’re literally the last person I would expect to have a remote interest in Overwatch.”
He’s right, but you ignore that. “I’m…trying new things,” you excuse, watching as he wrinkles his nose slightly before shrugging. “Sure. Sit over there,” he instructs, pointing to the gaming chair. It’s comfortable against your back, and you’re starting to understand why he’s able to spend hours cooped up in his room during holidays.
Donghyuck’s desk is surprisingly organised, besides the empty coffee can abandoned beside the keyboard. Lying in a corner are his files and schoolwork, while the stationery sits on a shelf above. If you force your eyes upwards, you’ll land on a familiar photo frame - one that quickly elicits a smile.
There’s a large Ferris wheel in the background, and right in front, two small children. You’re holding a stick of cotton candy that’s larger than your face, while Donghyuck has one arm around your shoulder and the other grasping onto a teddy bear.
He had won that for you with his pocket money in second grade, and the same bear still sits in your wardrobe, albeit a little dustier. It’s not like you don’t have plenty of other photos as well. There are the ones from Donghyuck’s performances when he was in the school band, and those of you and him during your first cheer competition.
Donghyuck’s there, on every page of your life, like a watermark. Feelings aside, you’re not quite sure what you would do without him.
Your thoughts are disrupted, however, by him leaning over to set up the computer. Donghyuck’s eyes are focused on the screen, and it’s likely why he hasn’t realised how close you are to him. From where you’re sitting, it’s the perfect vantage point to observe Donghyuck’s side profile, lit aglow by the brightness of the screen.
You hate the way your heartbeat speeds up involuntarily, gaze lingering on his jawline and the freckles that dot his cheeks. They always return during summer, only to fade away once the weather turns colder.
The realisation that you find your best friend ridiculously attractive is hitting you straight in the face, and it’s terrifying.
Tumblr media
An hour later, you’re sitting on Donghyuck’s bed, gaming console in hand. You’ve established Overwatch as a fruitless venture, and the boy in question looks down at you, amused. “That was only two games. Do you want to try League?”
You shake your head vehemently in resistance, slotting in the game disc to prove your point. He looks as if he’s not quite sure what to do with you, only moving towards his desk to bring a few snacks over.
“I’ve only ever seen you play Overcooked,” he points out, and you roll your eyes. “That’s because it’s the only one I’m good at.”
However, when you take into account the amount of time that you’ve been playing Overcooked, the achievement diminishes. When you first started, Donghyuck would be the only one helping to clear the first few levels, while your goal was simply to not get in the way.
Now, you’re able to keep up with him decently, though he still gets a much higher score in individual matches.
Donghyuck lets out an exasperated huff, but there’s a smile on his face. “I appreciate it, you know,” he says softly, and you turn your head. “What?”
“Overwatch. I know you wanted to try for me,” he says, and you let out a groan, before sinking into the pillow behind you. Of course he’s figured you out. You suppose you should have planned it better, considering the number of times you’ve complained about having to wait for him to finish his games. “At least I know I’m never going to play it ever again.”
Your voice comes out muffled from beneath the blanket, and you miss the way Donghyuck’s eyes cloud over with fondness as he looks at you. “It’s okay. You’re still my best friend, even if you can’t get three star-rankings on your own- ouch.”
He lets out a grunt of pain as you land a well-aimed elbow in his ribs, placing a hand over his stomach and collapsing onto the bed. “You’re so dramatic,” you complain, pushing him off from where he’s half-sprawled over you.
“You’re so mean to me. I still love you though,” he mutters, pinching your left cheek gently with his free hand. You try your best to not make your expression too plain on your face. “Love you too, I guess,” you say, though it comes out more as an incoherent mumble, eyes looking anywhere but at him.
Tumblr media
#2 MORE TIME SPENT TOGETHER IS BETTER THAN NONE
You’re not sure how much more you can fulfil task #2, considering the only times you aren’t with Donghyuck are when you’re in class, at practice, or sleeping. But Ningning is quick to denounce your claims during the break, when all of you are sprawled on the gymnasium floor.
“Best-friend activities don’t count, Y/N. You need to go on dates. Things that can be seen in the context of romance,” she clarifies, and you lie back down, exhausted.
It seems having to manage your feelings for Donghyuck while attempting to woo him is quickly becoming a full-time commitment.
You let out a sigh, getting back up once the coach calls to start.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Tumblr media
You did, in fact, do an extraordinary amount of planning.
The autumn festival holiday was around the corner, which meant a few different things. The most important one being that student council went on a break, leaving Donghyuck with precious spare time to rest.
Unfortunately, he was not going to have those three days completely undisturbed, thanks to you.
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” Donghyuck comments as he follows behind you, hands tucked into his coat. You grin slightly, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “We’re almost there. Just be patient.”
However, when the both of you round the corner, you immediately see Donghyuck skid to a halt. “Oh no. Definitely not.”
He’s staring at the ice skating rink with a mixture of fear and apprehension, and you let out a laugh.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to try this?” you ask, and he whips his head towards you. “I meant it as a joke. You know I can’t ice skate,” he mumbles nervously, rubbing at the back of his head, and you grab onto the sleeve of Donghyuck’s jacket, pulling him along despite his complaints.
Despite his reluctance, the both of you are quickly on the ice, skates securely strapped to your feet.
It’s a petty sort of consolation to know that Donghyuck isn’t perfect. It’s even worse, however, to know that despite his inclinations to annoy you to death and steal your food, you still have the biggest, most embarrassing crush on him.
You skate up behind him, pausing to observe the boy step carefully over the ice. His posture reminds you a bit of a duckling, and you have to hold back a laugh. Despite how clumsy his movements are, you can’t help but find them endearing.
“Need help?” You ask once you’re next to him, and Donghyuck grumbles slightly before nodding and extending his hands. “It’s not that hard once you get the hang of it. Try not to walk on the ice. It’ll just make you more unsteady.”
There’s a warm feeling of pride that floods you when you see your best friend attempt to take the advice dutifully, gradually getting closer to gliding on the ice. You try not to focus too much on how his fingers are interlaced tightly with yours, palm fitting perfectly in your grasp.
“I think I’ve got it,” he says after a while. There’s a cocky grin plastered on his face as he looks at you, and you scoff slightly. “Why are you still holding on to my hand then?”
His gaze darts down abruptly as if suddenly realizing that his fingers are still interlocked with yours.
“For security,” he replies teasingly, the corners of his lips tilted up.
You try not to make your bewilderment too obvious at his response. Donghyuck teases you plenty, but you’re not sure whether this crosses into the realm of flirting, except for the fact that it leaves your heartbeat unsteady.
“You’re really flushed. Are you okay?” He pauses when he realises you’re not following behind him, eyes warm with concern.
You paste a shaky smile on your face. “I’m fine. Just a little cold.”
It’s a flimsy excuse, but you’re hoping he’ll let it pass. The boy in front of you seems to pause in thought for a moment, before looping his arm through yours and pulling you out of the rink. “Wait, but our slot isn’t done yet-”
Donghyuck doesn’t reply you, too busy shrugging off his denim jacket as you stare at him in confusion. “There’s only ten minutes left anyways. We can go get hot chocolate,” he suggests.
“Also, wear this,” he mutters, and you feel something warm draped over your shoulders. Donghyuck’s jacket is a little too big on you, but it’s comfortable, with the faint cottony smell that you’ve grown to identify with him. “Thanks,” you mumble softly, your own voice tuned out by the thundering of your heartbeat in your ears.
You’re so fucked.
Tumblr media
When Donghyuck first met Zhong Chenle, he thought he was going to go deaf. It was like the boy was constantly speaking out of a megaphone from his sheer volume.
He once told Chenle that he heard him more than he saw him. The boy had only responded with another ear-splitting laugh. But Donghyuck still enjoys having him around, for the main reason that Chenle’s the only one capable of co-opting with him and not being complete dead weight - Jisung’s pretty hopeless, and Jaemin’s often too tired from training to log on.
“Donghyuck. Do you want food?”
He had given up on getting Chenle to use honorifics a long time ago, the boy either excusing it with the fact that he was foreign, or that Donghyuck acted like he was younger anyways.
“Let’s get Chinese takeout. Loser pays,” he replies, and Chenle immediately nods in assent, switching his mode over to single-player.
It doesn’t take long for the ‘game over’ screen to flash up at Donghyuck, and he flings his controller to the side, Chenle turning around with a smug grin on his face.
“Don’t sulk,” he scolds, pinching Donghyuck in the side, who currently has his face buried in the pillow. “I’m not sulking. I just can’t believe I lost to a seventeen-year-old,” he grumbles, before fishing out his wallet and passing it to Chenle.
It’s not the first time he’s lost - the score is pretty even between them, and no one’s keeping tally, but Donghyuck just likes to be dramatic. He thinks it’s one of his talents, the innate quality of over-emphasising every small thing to draw a reaction out of anyone.
And of course, his favourite person to pester is you. Chenle’s in second place, but that’s because the boy sometimes annoys him even more in retaliation. You’re not capable of annoying Donghyuck even if you tried, because he’s used to every tendency of yours. You only whine when you’re tired or embarrassed, and even that’s more cute than exhausting.
“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you something.”
Donghyuck remains silent, but a nod of his head indicates for Chenle to continue.
“Is it true that everyone gets together in senior year?” he asks, and Donghyuck furrows his eyebrows, considering the question. He supposes there’s Jeno and Karina, Giselle and Yangyang, and in the previous year there was Hyunsuk and Haeun-
“Oh. I guess so? Plenty of people at least.”
“What about you, then?”
What about him? Donghyuck wondered for a brief moment, but the answer wasn’t hard to figure out. He liked you, but he was too much of a coward to ever say anything, because all the words seemed to get stuck in his throat whenever he tried to open his mouth.
“Oh. Not everyone, I guess,” he realizes, and Chenle scoffs. “Is it because no one likes you?”
Donghyuck’s eyebrows raise in annoyance. “I’ll have you know people like me plenty,” he retorts, narrowing his eyes at the younger boy, who only grins even wider.
“Like Y/N?”
“You- how do you know?” Donghyuck thinks this might be the first time Chenle’s ever caught him off guard, the boy’s eyes betraying a certain sense of mischief.
But Chenle avoids his question, instead leaning his head down until it’s hanging off the bed, his eyes staring intently at Donghyuck. “Have you confessed?”
At the boy’s silence, he hums in conclusion. “I guess not. You know, if you even want to stand a chance, you should do it now.”
Donghyuck stiffens at his words. “What do you mean?”
“There are so many more guys at university. And if anything, Y/N’s going to be one of the most popular people there.”
He knows that. For God’s sake, Donghyuck is the best example of the magnetic effect you have on others.
But he was the first. That has to count for something. “It’s fine,” he mutters doubtfully. “It’s not like she hasn’t received confessions before.”
Ha Sungwoon in freshman year, who wrote you a love letter and placed it in your locker. Kim Youngjae from the tuition academy, who was your deskmate for three terms during the summer holidays. And just last year, Kang Taebin, a guy two years older who was a fellow part-timer. Donghyuck had called him a creep three minutes after you had called to tell him about the confession you received, and you had simply laughed before assuring him that it was a rejection on your end.
He remembers each of them clearly, like little pegs on a post arranged chronologically right on top of one another.
And right at the bottom, Lee Donghyuck, who started feeling butterflies in his stomach at the sight of you when he was fifteen but was too scared to admit it until two years later.
“Maybe she’s waiting to date in university. What are you going to do if she actually gets a boyfriend?”
“Be happy for her?” The way Donghyuck’s voice lifts at the end makes it sound like a question, reflective of the confusion he feels swirling in his heart.
It only takes a few seconds for him to realise the idea of having you date someone else causes his mood to dampen considerably, and from the way Chenle purses his mouth, he doesn’t believe Donghyuck either.
But Donghyuck’s only known how to be your best friend, not anything more or anything less.
Yet, if you have to make time for a boyfriend - he feels himself seize with panic at the idea of possibly drifting away from you, of having to make way for another stranger, for another man to love and know you more than he does.
In an ideal world, Donghyuck would move with you to a little island where there was no one else, the kind that both of you promised each other when you were kids. But that’s not how real life works, and he’s starting to realise that the chances he has are running out as quickly as the time left in the year.
Chenle seems to fall silent, watching the minute shift in expressions on Donghyuck’s face, and the latter suddenly feels too vulnerable, too seen. He shoves Chenle’s shoulder - gently, but enough to regain some control over his free-running emotions and inject some confidence into his voice.
“What do you know, anyways? You’re just a kid,” Donghyuck says, looking towards his phone gratefully when it lights up with a notification.
“Let’s not talk about this anymore,” he sighs out. “I’m going to get the food.”
But as he walks down the long hallway towards Chenle’s door, the marble floor cold against his bare feet, Donghyuck finally admits to himself that the younger boy is dead right.
Tumblr media
At this point, you feel like Karina and Ningning might be more invested in your love life than you are. With the newest addition of Giselle, it’s like they’ve renewed their passion in finding ways to help you.
“So? How was the date?”
Giselle looks over at you expectantly from where she’s seated in the booth. The four of you are in a mall, and you’re starting to regret having agreed to go out. It was an invitation to be interrogated on your progress (or lack thereof) with Donghyuck. “He fell,” you mutter.
“For you?”
“No. On the ice.”
You hear Ningning’s exasperated sigh before you see her face. She looks like she’s about to commit murder, and you smile, albeit apologetically. “He gave me his jacket. And bought me hot chocolate.”
Karina lets out an encouraging hum. ‘That’s good…isn’t it?” You shrug, more nonchalant than disappointed. “I’m not sure. He’s definitely being nicer, but it’s still no indication. It’s probably just because I paid for the tickets,” you reply.
There’s a collective silence that descends over the table when your food comes, only broken when the heaping bowls of pasta are cleared halfway.
“Then I think we should go for the third tactic. It’ll be harder, though,” Giselle says, a sharp sort of conviction in her voice as she gazes at you. “What is it?” Ningning asks, and the brown-haired girl smiles proudly.
“Na Jaemin.”
Tumblr media
Ah, Na Jaemin.
Where should you start?
If perfection exists in a person, Na Jaemin just might be the closest thing to it. The star quarterback is the school’s pride and joy, and you’re quite sure he already has multiple full-ride scholarships secured.
And unfortunately, unlike the cliches, he’s one of the sweetest people in the level, with a smile bright enough to light up any room. Sure, Jaemin might occasionally borrow your homework to copy, but he always makes it up by sending over lecture notes and iced coffee. The both of you are almost like colleagues, considering you’re there to cheer at each of his games and have seen every single touchdown he’s made.
Now, the athlete is sitting in front of you, a Starbucks cup in hand. His drink is a concerning shade of dark brown, almost black, and you’re too scared to ask him what it is.
“How did Giselle convince you to do this?”
“She didn’t have to. I thought it would be fun. Besides, Donghyuck’s a cool guy,” he replies, and you narrow your eyes.
Giselle nods encouragingly. “See? It’ll be a great idea.”
The way she and Jaemin are looking at you makes you feel like you’re the crazy one for doubting the plausibility of the idea.
“It’s the oldest trick in the book, Y/N,” she comforts, and you exhale hesitantly, before nodding.
Tumblr media
#3 THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER AND CUPID ARE NOT SO DIFFERENT
It’s a yearly occurrence at this point, but that doesn’t mean you don’t partake in it either. People flooding to the atrium of the school, towards the large corkboard with its neat rows of printed black text. There are some who are jumping excitedly, others…not so excited.
At least the waterworks haven’t begun, which is always a good sign. You’re scanning the board until you find your name, the number next to it eliciting a soft sigh of relief.
The top thirty of the level. Decent enough to keep your parents happy, even if they’ll definitely ask you how Donghyuck did.
His name is printed in glossy letters right near the top. Second place is every student’s dream, but he’ll probably complain about it to you later. Both he and Renjun have been fighting tooth-and-nail this year for first place, even if they’re technically good friends.
It’s only when you’re at your locker that he appears, backpack slung over his shoulder. “I saw your rankings. You did well.” There’s a glimmer of pride on his face, so genuine that it causes your heart to flutter imperceptibly.
Despite his perfect grades and records, Donghyuck’s never made you feel less than him. Instead, he’s the one who’s waiting for you after every performance, and spending countless afternoons tutoring you in the library. “Thank you,” you say softly.
“By the way, the autumn fair is this weekend. We should celebrate,” he suggests, and your heart stops for a moment. This is it.
You inhale nervously, before looking at Donghyuck. “Actually…”
“If you can’t make it because of practice, that’s okay-”
“I’m going with Jaemin.”
Donghyuck falls quiet at your admission, and you almost wish you had bitten your tongue. His jovial expression looks slightly dimmer now, as he throws a glance at you.
“Na Jaemin? Suddenly?” The tone feels almost accusatory, and you bristle slightly. “Yeah. He asked me. Sorry,” you breathe out, watching Donghyuck carefully as a thousand emotions pass over his face before it returns to careful neutrality.
“Okay. Cool. I’ll see you next week then,” he replies, voice clipped, before turning on his heel.
“Wait! Donghyuck!”
You immediately rush after him, and the boy pauses for a few precious seconds, glancing at you hopefully.
”Aren’t we going for lunch?” You ask, and his shoulders sink back down, as if disappointed. The expression in his eyes is unreadable for once as he gazes at you. “I forgot I had a council meeting. You can go ahead,” he excuses, not waiting for your response before rushing out of your sight.
There’s a pang in your heart at Donghyuck’s cold tone, and you’re starting to wonder if Giselle’s plan is backfiring terribly as he walks further and further down the hallway, without sparing you a glance.
Maybe you’re overreacting. He’s likely stressed by the upcoming end-year projects that the council is planning, along with today’s results. This barely means anything compared to the arguments the both of you have had, the ones where you angrily refuse to read his texts until the boy pesters you into relenting.
Yet, why does it feel like the end?
Tumblr media
Once in a while, Donghyuck has a terrible day. And it’s not just a little bad - like forgetting his umbrella during a downpour, or having all his pen nibs snap on the day of an important exam.
Though those things have happened before, and are particularly vexing, they don’t cause him to lose his nerve, mainly because you always share your umbrella with him and keep spare pens in a box in your locker.
He supposes he shouldn’t complain - one terrible day out of a hundred good ones is pretty decent, and Donghyuck supposes he has his naturally positive outlook to thank for that.
But this might just go down in the books as being the worst day of his life.
His argument with you has dampened his mood considerably, so much that even Renjun noticed in between lessons, nudging Donghyuck when he had failed to hear the teacher call his name.
He supposes he shouldn’t be too upset about it - in the big scheme of things, you going with Jaemin to the autumn fair isn’t something of vital importance. It’s not like you told Donghyuck you’ve decided to date the guy, or that you have a crush on him.
And as someone who takes a science elective, he supposes he should know that nothing should be concluded without proper, repeated results, and that there are too many variables in any experiment that can be changed, much less when it comes to you and Jaemin.
But Jaemin’s not rude like Sungwoon, arrogant like Youngjae, or weird like Taebin - he’s cheerful, volunteers at the animal shelter on weekends, and is the pride and joy of your school’s rugby team. He’s also ridiculously good at Overwatch, which is bizarre considering he only plays whenever Donghyuck convinces him to go online.
He’s Donghyuck’s friend, and a good person. If anything, he should be giving the stamp of approval, perhaps even encouraging because there’s no one else who deserves you.
There’s only one problem - himself. Lee Donghyuck, the independent variable.
Fuck research protocol. He’ll employ whatever methodology he needs if it means you choose him over Jaemin.
“Fuck research protocol,” he mutters, earning a concerned look from his deskmate. “I sure hope that’s a joke. Our lab practical is next week,” Renjun replies, peeling a label and pasting it carefully on the test tube.
Donghyuck shakes his head. “That was a simile,” he explains.
“You mean a metaphor?”
Fuck. Perhaps he didn’t retain the lecture you gave him on literary devices as well as he thought he did.
Donghyuck’s suddenly reminded by the fact that Jaemin’s also a Literature student, which means he definitely knows the difference between a simile and a metaphor, and won’t bore you with explanations of conservation laws.
It also means that Jaemin can definitely understand Little Women on the first try, and doesn’t need to Sparknote it beforehand to discuss with you - and Donghyuck can’t deny that he’s just mildly horrified at the idea of you letting someone else watch the movie with you, one of the cornerstones of your movie nights.
To be fair, Donghyuck’s made his friends watch The Conjuring - but that’s not even the same thing. There’s absolutely nothing romantic about him getting scared half out of his wits after Renjun and Jeno pour fake blood all over the bathroom mirror, but what if you see Laurie dancing with Jo and deciding you want some of that for yourself?
Donghyuck should be there when that happens. Not anyone else, and most definitely not Na Jaemin.
But with the way he shook you off this morning - a pang of crushing guilt floods him, and Donghyuck has the urge to kick himself, just for how stupid he’s been. If anything, he's only pushed you further away.
He realises he never did reply Renjun’s question when the boy waves his hand in front of his face. “Oh. Yeah. A metaphor. Whatever,” he says cursorily, watching as Renjun stares at him as if he’s grown another head.
He’s starting to think it might be better if he did, just to figure out the puzzle of his own heart.
Tumblr media
It’s only when you miss the step for the third time that Karina walks towards you, placing a careful hand on your shoulder.
“Are you okay? You’ve been out of it all afternoon,” she comments, a concerned look in her eyes.
You nod after a moment, signalling for the rest of the cheerleaders to take a break. Your position as captain means that you’re responsible for directing most of the practices, but how are you going to monitor a routine if you keep messing up the steps yourself?
Unfortunately, you can’t seem to take your mind off Donghyuck, and how he hasn’t replied to your texts since the afternoon. You’ve offered to get him snacks after council, and yet, radio silence.
It’s not abnormal for him to forget to check his phone, but with every second that passes, the uneasiness in your stomach just becomes heavier. You wonder if he’s that angry over your change of plans for Jaemin, and whether it might be better to just ditch the entire plan.
Fuck your feelings. You want your best friend back, and you’d rather have Donghyuck’s friendship than a cold shoulder.
However, Karina’s still staring at you, so you tear yourself away from thoughts of him, refocusing on the scene in front of you.
“Let’s do stunts!” You instruct, cupping your hands over your mouth to emphasise your volume. You’re grateful it doesn’t come out shaky and betray the emotional turmoil you’re going through, watching as everyone lines up in their typical groups, clearing the mat space for tumbling.
It’s one of your favourite things in the world, the feeling of soaring briefly in the air before your feet land on solid ground, and it’ll be a welcome distraction from the boy who takes up too much space in your heart and mind.
Karina always leads the first round, and this time is no different. You suck in a deep breath, before taking a running leap and relishing the thrill of momentarily being a full 180 degrees in the air, as if you’re floating. But there’s still a dull ache in your heart that refuses to leave, even as you prep for the second part of the stunt.
You realise you’ve messed up a moment too early, before it happens. You’re not even sure when distraction had gripped at you, suddenly realising the angle at which you’re landing is strangely off. There’s fear that shoots through you, cold and unrelenting, but it only allows you a few seconds of panic.
A grunt of pain leaves you the moment your foot lands wrongly, the concerned shouts of the other girls echoing in the background. Your body collapses to the ground, hands narrowly stopping you from falling flat on your face.
You can only be grateful that you haven’t heard a crack, but the sharp ache that shoots up tells you that something is definitely injured.
You hear the rush of footsteps before Karina immediately crouches next to you, an arm under your shoulder. “Can you walk?” she asks, and you grit your teeth before nodding. Her voice is calm, but you can still detect the undercurrent of panic poking through. It’s likely a sprain, which hopefully means you’ll just have to rest.
Not your first injury, but it still hurts like a bitch.
You try your best to smile at the rest of the team as she helps you hobble towards the gymnasium entrance, but it’s a poor attempt at comfort. But being in charge means that it’s your job to worry, not theirs.
It feels like an eternity as you make the slow hobble towards the nurse’s office, Karina on one side and Ningning at the other. Even as the throbbing pain of your ankle causes to let out an occasional wince, you can’t help but feel a surge of gratefulness for the two girls beside you.
You allow yourself to lean back once you’re carefully placed on the bed, the nurse carefully looking at your foot. “It’s an ankle sprain. You’ll be up in two weeks, but you should be careful for the next month.”
Her words cause you to let out a sigh of relief. There’s two more months to the performance. A tight fit, but you’ll make it.
“The both of you should go back to practice,” you tell Karina and Ningning while the nurse wraps your foot in bandages. Karina clucks in disapproval. “How can we? You’re injured.”
Her evident concern causes you to chuckle slightly. “I’ll be fine. The others are probably wondering what happened. Don’t worry,” you assure, and her face softens slightly.
“Okay. We’ll make sure everything goes well, so just focus on recovering, okay?”
You nod obediently at Karina’s request, and she ruffles your hair affectionately before following Ningning out.
The moment the both of them leave, you let yourself sink back into the pillow and close your eyes in hopes of rest. On record, this might be one of the worst days you’ve had this year. You hear footsteps thud into the room, and assume it’s the nurse moving around.
You sure hope it isn’t another injured student, considering you’d rather not have anyone see you wallow in self-pity.
Until a familiar figure steps behind the curtain, and your heart sinks even further.
“Hey.”
Donghyuck’s standing in front of you, hands tucked into the pockets of his school blazer. His shirt is slightly rumpled, tie pulled out, and he looks like he’s been running. There’s an unreadable expression on his face as he crosses the distance towards the bed you’re lying on, settling in the wobbly plastic chair next to the bed.
“Why are you here?” He flinches at your question, and you wonder if he can hear the tremor in your words.
“Does your foot hurt?” He shoots back with another question, and you whip your head to face him sharply.
“I sprained it. You still haven’t answered my question.”
“Honestly, Y/N, you should be more careful-”
“Well, how was I supposed to feel when you didn’t reply to my messages-”
“Are you blaming me for your sprained foot?” Donghyuck asks incredulously, eyes wide as he stares at you, willing you to fall silent. He runs a hand haphazardly through his hair, and you’ve never seen him this agitated.
“Fuck, this wasn’t how I wanted it to go. Renjun said- never mind.” His voice is resigned, and the dejected tone causes your shoulders to sink and the fight to leave you. “You know I’m not blaming you,” you mutter softly, and he sinks down in the chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he nods.
There’s more that Donghyuck wants to say. You can tell by the way he swallows nervously, adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he thrums his fingers nervously on his lap. “I just- it’s been a weird day, and I took it out on you because I was looking forward to the fair,” he admits.
It’s as close to an apology that someone like him can give, and you can tell the boy’s truly remorseful. Donghyuck’s someone who lives easily without regrets, who says and does the things that he wants. The confidence he possesses is something to be admired, but it also means that sometimes you get hurt.
But no matter what, he’s still your best friend, and the one that you’ll trust with anything.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” you mumble softly, watching as his eyes become less dejected and fill with an unfamiliar sort of fondness, one that tugs painfully at your heartstrings. You bring your hand down from where it’s resting on your lap, breath hitching when Donghyuck doesn’t wait to intertwine his fingers with yours. When he lifts his head to look up at you again, his gaze is heavy with the weight of a thousand unsaid words.
“You don’t have to tell me everything, Y/N. We both have our own friends too, and I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything you want to do,” he replies honestly, and you look at him, a stricken expression on your face.
How do you tell Donghyuck that you wish he would care? About who you go out with, or that you wish he would tell you that he doesn’t want you to go with Jaemin, but with him instead?
You would gladly let him hold you back, to cross the line dividing friendship and the heady rush of attraction that you felt every single time you looked at him.
“We can go together instead. I didn’t even confirm plans with Jaemin,” you quickly clarify, looking at him hopefully. You know that the boy wouldn’t mind if you cancelled, considering the very reason behind it. But there’s a mournful smile that makes its way onto Donghyuck’s face, strangely pensive as he shakes his head.
“It’s okay. Jaemin’s nice. You should have fun. I can just go with Renjun or Jeno,” he says, and you’re left helpless in the face of his kind rejection. “What did the doctor say? Is the pain better?”
His abrupt change of topic dispels the awkward atmosphere, and you understand that the rather sensitive topic of Jaemin will be shelved for now.
“It’ll recover in time, but it still hurts,” you complain, and Donghyuck tilts his head sympathetically, but flicks your forehead nevertheless. His previous concern is gone, replaced more with anger. But you don’t mind, because you know it comes from a place of care, even if he’s scolding you. “Be more careful next time. I don’t want you to get injured.”
The firm tone of his voice makes you sink back into the pillow, nodding obediently. Until Donghyuck grabs your hand, causing you to jerk slightly in shock.
“I’m serious, Y/N. You’re precious to many people.”
What about you? Am I precious to you? Is the question on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow it quickly. “Okay. I promise,” you reply, and he smiles contentedly, the kind that makes his left dimple peek through.
Tumblr media
“Na Jaemin, if you kick me one more time, I’ll tell Chenle you were the one who spilled water on his computer,” Karina threatens, narrowing her eyes at the black-haired boy. “It was an accident!” he defends, looking towards you for support.
“Y/N? You good?” You jerk up at the mention of your name, realising that Jeno, Karina and Jaemin are all looking at you. “Oh, sorry,” you mumble, taking a big bite of the pumpkin pie that sits in front of you.
It’s supposed to be your favourite, but the puree tastes like sand in your mouth. Karina takes one look at your glum expression, and stands up, not so gently pulling Jeno along with her. “Come on. Let’s go try some games,” she suggests in an effort to perk you up, and you nod in agreement, trying to put on a wobbly grin on your face to appreciate her efforts.
Even then, Karina’s quick to run off with Jeno, and a genuine smile makes its way onto your face when you watch him tease her for failing to get the ball into the hoop. They’re adorable, the kind of couple that lasts even after graduation.
“Have you ever fallen in love?”
Jaemin looks over at your question, his fleece jacket tucked snugly around his shoulders. “No. But looking at you, it doesn’t seem to be that great.”
“Thanks,” you mutter dryly, watching as he grins, pearly-whites poking through. “Just kidding. You and Donghyuck are perfect for each other.”
Despite everything that has happened, it feels nice to have Jaemin’s vote of confidence, even as you teeter unsurely in your relationship with Donghyuck.
“You know, as much as I agree with Giselle’s ideas, I think you should try something different,” Jaemin says, out of the blue, and you cast a doubtful glance. There are people walking past the both of you, an even mix of students and adults. Yet, each time you search for Donghyuck in the crowd, he’s nowhere to be found.
Even after your injury, the both of you had fallen into your natural rhythm effortlessly, Donghyuck still cracking jokes and you responding with laughter. You still ran down to the record store when he needed help, listening to some tracks and providing what feedback you could, and he still left you convenience store bags after practice, sometimes accompanied by extra snacks for Karina and Ningning as well.
Except that nowadays, your heart felt like it was constantly about to burst out of your chest, and you always felt your cheeks warm whenever Donghyuck got a little too close. It didn’t help that he was naturally affectionate, something that you enjoyed and hated in equal measure.
Enjoyed because it meant that he didn’t hesitate to wrap you up in a hug each time he saw you, or hold your hand and pull you to walk on the inside of the pavement. Hated because you were now hypersensitive to each time the both of you had any contact, freezing up whenever he leaned his head onto your shoulder or looped an arm around your waist.
A simple action of his was enough to make your heart flutter, and as much as nothing between you and Donghyuck had changed, your feelings were getting harder and harder to hide each day.
You only realise a few moments later that Jaemin’s still waiting for your reply.
“Honestly? I’m kind of tired of trying. If it happens, it’ll happen,” you sigh out.
At this point, the lines between what you can do as a friend and what’s romantic have blurred so much, especially with someone like Donghyuck. He’s held you when you cried over injuries, and looped his arm between yours when the both of you went on trips to the city. He’s seen you at your ugliest and your best, and you would like to think that if he had an inkling of attraction towards you, there would have been an indication.
Jaemin takes one look at the dejected expression on your face, and half-hugs you in an attempt at comfort. “It’ll be fine. If it helps, you can look forward to the game. Boys are overrated.”
“You’re saying that yourself?”
He nods, keeping his face as serious as he can before the corners of his lips tilt up, betraying a smile.
“Don’t tell Karina, but you’re my favourite cheerleader,” he whispers conspiratorially, and you laugh despite the heaviness in your chest.
You wonder if Donghyuck has a favourite cheerleader too.
Tumblr media
Considering how you’ve been part of the team since freshman year, you should feel less nervous. However, there’s still a teeming anxiety that pervades you as you pace around your bedroom. The uniform is already on the bed, your makeup bag shoved into the corner - but you’re still wondering if you’ve forgotten something.
Until your phone buzzes, and you hold it on speaker as you rifle through your closet for an extra pair of socks.
“I’ve seen you walking around your room since afternoon. Need any help?” Donghyuck’s voice filters through the speaker with its characteristic warmth, and you shake your head reflexively, knowing that he can see it from where he’s leaning out over his balcony.
A benefit of being neighbours - he’s never really further than a phone call away.
“I think I’m just nervous because it’s the last game of the season. And I haven’t gotten to practice as much because of the injury.” Your eyes drift to the brace sitting abandoned in the corner of your room, a reminder of the mistake that you’d prefer not to make again.
Donghyuck hums sympathetically, and you know that he understands, considering this happens before most of your performances, unless you’re feeling exceptionally confident.
“Want to go out for boba? My treat,” he promises, and you smile at his attempt to help.
You can already hear him moving around his room, packing up his things, and it causes warmth to surge in you, an affectionate feeling that is slowly becoming directly associated with him.
How are you supposed to get over Donghyuck if he consistently knows what you need? It’s like the boy specifically caters to everything that makes your heart skip a beat.
You’re quick to grab a jacket, pausing briefly to decide before your eyes land on a familiar denim one that’s much too big on you. It’s been your accessory of choice more often than not, until even Karina had noticed it during rehearsal.
Donghyuck raises his eyebrows slightly when you step down the driveway. He’s leaning against his car, ripped jeans tucked into his favourite pair of boots. It’s fascinating how starkly his personal clothing choice differs from what he wears to school, and you suppose the strict dress code has stifled his creativity in terms of outfits.
“That jacket looks familiar,” he points out, and you make a halfhearted attempt to shrug innocently. “It’s mine now.”
He lets out an amused huff at that, before motioning for you to get into the car. “You know, if you wanted more of my hoodies, you could have just asked,” he says, a knowing look in his eyes as he watches your cheeks redden.
“No one wants more of your hoodies. I’m doing this out of necessity,” you mutter, but Donghyuck knows you’re lying. He hasn’t seen you willingly wear a jacket since middle school, which is the main reason why you’ve worn so many of his, but the sight of his clothing draped over your shoulders fills him with a certain satisfaction, one that he can’t pinpoint.
“Keep it. It looks better on you anyways.”
Your head turns sharply at Donghyuck’s words, but his gaze remains fixed on the road, oblivious of the way your heartbeat speeds up in your chest. You wonder if he knows what effect he has on you, saying the things he does - and it seems to happen more often now, compliments slipping out here and there that make your eyes widen and a nervous laugh bubble out of your throat.
“Do you know that differentiation and integration aren’t even antonyms of each other?” You ask, balancing your chin on your hand as you look over at the boy sitting opposite you.
Donghyuck clicks his tongue disapprovingly, tapping your forehead gently with his pen. “Focus.”
“It doesn’t make any sense that they’re the opposites of each other in math-”
He looks up at you, a look of amused exasperation on his face as he stares you down. “I know you’re better than me in languages. But you’re the one who asked for help for your test, so solve these sums, and I’ll mark them,” he tells you, and your lips settle into a pout when you realise he means it.
“Fine,” you mutter, and a low chuckle escapes him at your defeated expression when you dip your head back down to look at the textbook in front of you.
There isn’t any further response from the boy, which is why you fill with alarm when he suddenly scoots over closer to you, head jerking upwards so quickly that your bangs fall into your face, temporarily obscuring your view.
“How are you going to see your worksheet if your hair’s always in your face?”
“You’re one to speak,” you retort, knowing full well that Donghyuck’s always protesting against cutting his hair, preferring when it’s longer. He pokes his tongue in his cheek out of annoyance, and your eyes immediately drift to the action.
“Stay still,” he mumbles, and your eyes widen inquisitively in confusion, right as he leans over, hand moving towards your face to tuck your hair behind your ear. You barely process the movement, only registering the soft brush of his fingers against your cheek before your stomach does a thousand backflips.
The action is sweet, even for him, and the gentleness of it makes your breath catch in your throat.
Donghyuck doesn’t pull his hand away, palm hovering beside your face even as he’s finished.
“Your hair’s soft,” he points out, and you can’t even deign to provide a response, too caught up in the rapid thundering of your heartbeat in your ears. He eventually sits back, eyes never leaving your face even as you stare at him, shell-shocked.
“Y/N. Y/N.” An insistent voice jerks you out of your thoughts, and you turn your head towards its source, only to be met with Donghyuck’s gaze. He must have been calling your name for a while, you realise, and you let out a cough that comes out more awkward than smooth.
There’s a cup of brown sugar milk tea in his hand - your favourite, and the sugar level at half, just the way you like it. It’s not anything special, but the fact that he remembers, and the way you know his is probably a taro milk tea with less ice, brings a smile to your face. “I thought I lost you there,” he says, and your smile turns sheepish. “Sorry. Drifted away for a second.”
He pokes the straw into the plastic, taking a quick sip. “About?”
“Hm?”
“What were you thinking about?”
“You.” The confession escapes your mouth before you can even halt it, brain short-circuiting as you realise what you’ve just said. Your throat seizes up, and you barely stop yourself from choking on your drink, the pearls making their way down uncomfortably.
“I mean- I just- I was thinking about how you were paying for the bubble tea- and how I should pay for your gas or something-” you sputter out a poor excuse, watching as Donghyuck begins to laugh, so hard that he holds on to his stomach.
You’re quite sure your cheeks are now pink with mortification, knowing full well that he can tell that you’re lying and you’ve completely, utterly embarrassed yourself in front of your best friend and the poor barista working the night shift behind the counter.
“It’s not like you haven’t treated me before,” he points out, picking up a napkin and placing it on your side, before his eyes narrow slightly with mischief. “But your first reply-” he moves closer, until you can see your own reflection in his eyes. “-what were you thinking? About me?”
His voice is smug as he says it, and you realise Donghyuck’s simply teasing you. It’s not the first time he’s jokingly flirted with you, but with the weight of your newfound feelings, you’re no longer sure how to respond.
Your mind is running at a mile a minute, before you finally settle on something. “Annoying.”
Donghyuck blinks, caught off-guard. “Huh?”
“I was thinking about how you’re annoying,” you bite out, letting out a relieved sigh when he sinks back into the chair, huffing petulantly.
“Is this because I stole your fries the other day?” He asks, feigning hurt, and you remain stone-faced as you look at him, nodding. “You also doodled little suns everywhere on my worksheet until Mr Kim made me redo it.”
“They were cute suns!”
“Sure, whatever you say.”
They were, but that’s beside the point. Crisis averted, you find it easier to joke around with Donghyuck, lips curving up as he looks at you, an indignant expression on his face.
You love the way he reacts to your dry, barely-there humor, a stark contrast from the way he smoothly interjects with quips and teasing. “Admit it. They were cute,” he demands, hands placed on the table for dramatic effect.
Your arms are crossed as you meet his gaze. “No.”
He huffs out in frustration, and you have to hold yourself back from cooing at how adorable he looks like this.
“I’m never buying you bubble tea again,” he mutters, and you grin slightly. “Sure.”
“You- never mind.” Your heart softens slightly at his forlorn expression, and you wonder if this is what it feels like to have the upper hand temporarily.
“I kept the worksheet, by the way,” you add, and he looks at you reluctantly, as if not yet deciding whether to listen or to ignore you.
“…What worksheet?” he asks, curiosity getting the better of him.
“The one you drew on. It’s still in my file.”
Your hint causes Donghyuck to sit back up hopefully. “You didn’t throw it away?” When you shake your head, he breaks out into a smile so bright that it reminds you a little of the doodled suns themselves.
“Does that mean you think they’re cute?” He follows up with another question eagerly, and you hum, as if deep in thought.
“Maybe.”
It’s just one word, but with the way Donghyuck is looking at you, it seems as if you’ve just told him he’s won the lottery.
You’d do anything to see him have that expression, you realise, unable to hide your grin now as he looks at you. If your friends were privy to your thoughts, they would have teased you for how in over your head you were.
Even if you could get over your crush on Donghyuck, you weren’t quite sure if you wanted to.
Tumblr media
You’ve never told anyone, but the first person who you practised your makeup skills on wasn’t yourself.
It was Lee Donghyuck.
There’s definitely still a picture of him saved somewhere on your old phone, blusher carefully dusted on his cheeks and soft pink eyeshadow blended into a darker brown, complete with mascara and winged eyeliner. You had convinced him by promising to sponsor some of his in-game credits, and after a week of begging, the boy had finally sat himself down and allowed you free reign.
You hated how he had still looked good at the end of it, despite your novice skills. After that, you always used him for test makeup runs, until you finally grew confident enough to do it on your own.
Now, however, you’re standing in your bathroom anxiously, eyes darting to the time on your phone. Three hours before you have to leave for the stadium, and you’ve decided to test out your plan for makeup.
“I’m sure you look good,” Donghyuck assures through the phone, his voice muffled. However, you’re too nervous to focus on the compliment, nibbling at your lip.
“But I’ve never worn silver eyeshadow before! What if I just look washed out in the photos?”
“How about you take a picture now, and send it to me?”
“But my bathroom lighting is bad. Can’t you just come over now and take a look?” you plead, and Donghyuck lets out a soft groan of fatigue, causing you to wince apologetically. In all truth, you didn’t mean to wake him up at four in the morning. It just happens that Donghyuck is the only person you trust with things like these, and you find yourself needing his presence now more than ever.
There’s a beat of silence, and you’re thinking he might just hang up.
“Fine,” he agrees, and you almost let out a squeal of excitement, before realising your parents are likely still sleeping. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you whisper into the phone, hearing him chuckle slightly.
“No problem. Now let me in. It’s cold.”
You don’t waste any time rushing towards the door, swinging it open for Donghyuck to come in. He looks at you, blinking tiredly at your bare face. “Where’s your makeup?”
“Oh. I haven’t done it yet. I just wanted to call you first.”
“Wake me up when you’re done, then,” he mumbles, following you into your room and promptly falling asleep on your bed, blanket tucked around him.
You stare at him for a while, mildly amazed at how fast the boy can sleep, before forcing yourself to get back to the task at hand.
It’s over an hour later when you finally trudge over to Donghyuck, hair styled as well.
“Donghyuck,” you call, poking at the boy to get him to wake up. Thankfully, he’s a lot faster this time, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes blearily.
“You’re done?” He asks, and you nod excitedly, before realising something and running back into the bathroom.
When you step back out, you’ve changed from your long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants into your cheer uniform, feeling slightly more confident about the way you look.
“Okay. I’m done. How is it?” You ask expectantly, waiting with bated breath as you step out, to face him directly.
For a long time, Donghyuck doesn’t say anything, and you look up from where your hands are brushing down your skirt, only to meet his heavy stare, that hasn’t left you even once. His eyes dart up to meet yours, catching on the silver eyeshadow that rests on your eyelids, to the gems carefully placed along the edges.
There’s a starstruck expression on his face, one that causes you to shift on your feet, warmth creeping up the back of your neck. Donghyuck’s sitting on the edge of the bed and facing you directly, knees brushing yours, and you laugh out of your nerves. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
He’s still looking up at you, until his gaze darts briefly to the side - you see Donghyuck swallow heavily, as if attempting to find the words to say.
Until he stands up abruptly, rising to his full height. The sudden movement causes you to stumble backwards, and despite his silence, Donghyuck instinctively wraps a hand around your waist to steady you. “Careful,” he mutters lowly, and your mind goes blank for a few seconds, nervousness clearing temporarily to make way for the fact that his face is inches away from yours.
You’re frantic for an entirely different reason now, quickly getting yourself upright to place some distance between the both of you. Donghyuck seems to regain his senses as well, clearing his throat.
“I told you I was right. It looks good,” he finally says, and you take a while to calm down the pace of your heartbeat. “Really?”
“You look beautiful, Y/N. You’ll do great. I mean it,” he assures, voice sincere as he cranes his neck down a little to better match your height, a soft smile on his face. The fluttering of your pulse returns with a vengeance, and you realise that Donghyuck’s hand hasn’t left your right hip, his warmth bleeding through the thin fabric.
At least the nerves about the performance have dissipated, entirely replaced by the dizzying rush that comes with being near Donghyuck.
As if on cue, your phone vibrates several times, lighting up with messages from what must be Karina and Ningning. Donghyuck’s eyes dart to it as well, and he grins slightly. “We should probably go,” he suggests, and you eventually find it in yourself to nod.
When he lets go of you, you try not to feel too disappointed.
Tumblr media
Despite your more-than-distracting encounter with Donghyuck early in the morning, you’re quick to focus the moment you step into the waiting room.
“Two more minutes until we’re on the field!” At your alert, there’s another flurry of activity, everyone rushing to touch up their makeup or check their shoelaces.
Karina makes her way over to you immediately, stepping gingerly over pom poms and duffel bags left on the floor.
“Game day. You ready?” She asks, an excited glint in her eyes as she links both arms with you, a little tradition that the both of you started in your first year.
“As I’ll ever be,” you exhale out, smiling at her and hoping it comes out confident.
“You’re our captain. You’ll do great,” Ningning interjects, passing you your poms, which are thankfully, not damp from sweaty palms. Exhilaration is slowly bubbling up in you, pushing away the anxiety, and you find yourself bouncing on the balls of your feet.
And then there’s the loud blare of a horn, signifying the end of the opening ceremony.
“Hey, you guys ready?” The voice you hear this time is much lower, and you turn your head to see Jaemin, two red stripes painted horizontally across his face. He’s grinning widely when you turn to face him, and you feel strangely comforted by the sight of the bubbly jock.
“There’s my favourite cheerleader,” he says, and you let out a laugh despite your nerves, striding towards him. “Good luck with the game, Jaemin. You’ll crush it,” you tell him, and he shrugs nonchalantly, dripping with confidence.
“We’ll do even better if you guys put on the best performance of your lives.”
There’s a glimmer of pride in his eyes, one that grounds you and makes you feel a little more ready to go onto the pitch. It’s as much for you as it is for the rest of your team, and Jaemin’s as well.
“We will,” you promise, angling your chin to the side. Jaemin gets the hint, opening the door wide for you to follow him out, the rest of them behind you.
The cheers in the stadium are deafening, but you tune them out, instead choosing to focus on how white your sneakers are against the red track, or the pace of your breathing as you get into position.
In the few seconds before the music starts, you dart your head up quickly to the spectator stands, searching, before your eyes finally halt on a figure, dressed in a white shirt and jeans, bomber jacket over his shoulders.
You’d spot him in any crowd. From here, you can’t see all that clearly, but you can tell Donghyuck is smiling, cheering as loudly as he possibly can.
This time, when you start your first stunt, your feet land true.
Tumblr media
It probably isn’t the best idea to confess that you barely understand the rules of rugby, considering that you are on the frontline of every single game.
Sure, Jaemin may be the quarterback, but you’re not particularly sure what that means besides the fact that he’s set the highest record for goals scored in a single season.
However, you’ve simplified the rules sufficiently: When the ball enters the in-goal area, you cheer. Which is exactly what you’re doing, jumping up and down excitedly when Jaemin gains another point right as the buzzer goes off, signifying the end of the match.
Ningning is hugging your shoulders tightly, as the both of you watch the team do a victory run, Jaemin and Jeno making their ways back to the spectator stand first.
“I know I’ve seen you on the field a hundred times, but that was amazing,” you gush, watching as Jaemin tilts his head, pleased.
“You know, now that the season is over-” he says, and you arch an eyebrow curiously. “Yes?”
“- you don’t have any more excuses to avoid confessing to Donghyuck,” he finishes, smiling mischievously when your cheeks redden. Jeno nods in encouragement, and you realise that you’ve been set up by the two jocks in front of you.
In an attempt for support, you turn towards Ningning, but she shrugs. “They’re right. Giselle’s ideas were good, but I don’t think they’ll work for someone like him. You just need to say it directly.”
Her words cause your shoulders to sink slightly, and Karina, who’s finally noticed the little gathering, leans in.
“Just do it, Y/N. You never know. Besides, Donghyuck cares for you. Even if he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, he would never just end the friendship that way.”
“But what if he does? What if he only wants us to be friends but has to distance himself because of my feelings and we become strangers?”
Jaemin frowns slightly. “That sounds awfully specific.”
His comment causes Ningning to roll her eyes, and she places her other hand on your shoulder, turning you towards her.
“Look at me. I know you’re a literature student, but stop projecting yourself onto characters.”
Your mouth gapes open at her words, ready with a retort, but she continues.
“The both of you are not Laurie and Jo. You are Y/N and Donghyuck, and everything will be fine.”
“Y/N and Donghyuck,” you repeat, almost dazed as you look at Ningning, fear slowly solidifying into something a little more like confidence. Y/N and Donghyuck. It’s the simplest way to explain the both of you, but the mention of it also causes a twinge of your heart.
Being with Donghyuck is easy, something that you’ve been doing for most of your life. But it doesn’t feel like enough, not yet.
You want to belong to him, and you want Donghyuck to be yours.
“Y/N.” The familiar voice causes your heart to seize, and you turn to face the man himself, eyes bright as he looks at you. Karina lets out a soft laugh at your captivated expression, but you don’t bother to turn towards her.
The only thing that you catch is Jaemin leaning closer towards you. “Go get him, Y/N,” he whispers conspiratorially, and you swallow nervously before finally crossing the distance between you and Donghyuck. He looks even more stunning up close, honey-toned skin illuminated under the bright stadium lights.
“Hey.” Your mouth feels dry when you say it, stopping a few feet away from him.
His mouth curves into a barely-there smirk, and your hands fiddle with the hem of your shirt nervously. “Ready to go?”
You nod, looping your arm through his and praying the motion comes off natural. Jaemin’s words are still ringing in your head, and you know the four of them are still staring unabashedly, but you shove them down in favour of basking in the moment. However, you can’t deny that you’re shifting closer and closer to saying fuck it and blurting out your feelings as each second ticks by.
It seems that rational thinking is harder to come by these days, especially when you’re with Donghyuck.
“Are you hungry? I ordered pizza already,” he tells you, and it makes you fall just a little bit more, the way he remembers the little things.
“Is it pepperoni?”
“Of course. With extra cheese. I know the way to your heart.”
He does. Donghyuck knows the way to your heart like he has a map, though you’re quite sure he could walk the metaphorical path blindfolded.
Or maybe the path is whichever way he steps. You’re not quite sure.
Donghyuck leads you towards the carpark, until he suddenly halts near the entrance of the stadium, expression changing from lighthearted to stone-faced. “Is something wrong?” You ask, brows furrowing in concern. But he remains silent, hesitating slightly before shrugging off his jacket.
“Wear this,” he instructs, but instead of placing it on your shoulders, Donghyuck ties it around your waist, fingers nimble. When he’s done, he looks up, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours, instead drifting further back and sharpening into a glare. You’ve never seen the boy angry before, and it isn’t directed at you.
“Donghyuck, what is it?” You look behind, only to be met with nothing but a view of the pitch. At your insistence, he scratches the back of his head, as if embarrassed at his sudden outburst. “It’s nothing,” he mumbles.
You make a pointed glance at the jacket around your waist, before glancing up at him, expectant. Donghyuck seems to realize he’s been backed into a corner, and hangs his head down slightly.
“It’s just-”
“Just what?”
“Some guys were looking at you,” he finally admits, and you suck in a breath out of surprise at his unexpected words. It’s not an unusual occurrence, considering you’re a cheerleader and there are always douchebags, even in your own school. You’ve been catcalled, wolf-whistled at - a few guys staring at your legs is barely anything, but you realise this is the first time Donghyuck is witnessing it firsthand, often not being on the pitch with you.
The protective gesture makes your heart skip a beat, however, and you decide it’s as good a time of any to get a gauge of Donghyuck’s feelings towards you.
“Were you jealous?” You quickly lean in as you pop the question, attempting to make your voice teasing to hide your true intentions. If anything, you’ll just brush it off as flirting between friends.
However, he remains silent, and the hope in your heart fizzles unstably as you wait for his response. When Donghyuck finally lifts his head, his eyes are hooded, filled with a dark intensity that makes your heart palpitate.
“And if I said I was?”
Your eyes widen imperceptibly at that, shifting backwards as Donghyuck takes a step closer, and another, until you feel your back press against his car, the cold metal forcing you to bite back a shiver. But Donghyuck only moves impossibly closer, until the tips of his scuffed boots are brushing your sneakers. A nervous laugh escapes you, eyes darting anywhere but him.
“You still haven’t responded to my question,” he points out, the corner of his mouth curled up as he looks at you, waiting.
You’re not sure if you’re even breathing, attempting to focus on anything except the boy right in front of you.
“Then- then I would ask you why,” you finally stutter out, and Donghyuck lets out an amused hum.
“Take a guess.”
You wonder if Donghyuck’s just teasing, or if he’s serious. If there’s even the slim possibility - any chance that he might feel the same way you do.
Because the way he’s looking at you now makes you feel brave. It makes you think that maybe, just maybe- you’ve found the path to his heart as well.
But you’re still scared, so you shake your head. “No. Tell me.”
You need to hear it from him, hear Donghyuck tell you that this isn’t just some pipe dream of yours.
He lets out a huff of amusement at your stubbornness. “Fine. I like you, L/N Y/N.”
The confession goes straight to your head, and you pinch yourself to make sure you aren’t dreaming. “Really?”
Donghyuck stares at you in disbelief. “Yes, really. Why do you think I got jealous? I don’t want you to be with Jaemin, or any other guy. I want you to be with me.”
You didn’t think it was possible for him to fluster you even more, but it seems you’re dead wrong, as your cheeks redden further and you tear your gaze away from him. “Oh,” you breathe out, and Donghyuck looks at you with equal parts exasperation and adoration.
“If you’re going to reject me, do it now,” he adds, voice light, but there’s a vulnerability on his face, evident even in the poor lighting. You realise that he’s likely been full of doubt, right up until this very moment - not too much unlike yourself.
You’d be a fool to give this chance up, and there’s nothing to lose, not anymore, when Donghyuck’s already confirmed your dreams and turned them into reality.
“I like you too. So, so much,” you finally exhale out, and his expression softens into something like relief.
“Good. I was starting to think you’d never look my way,” he mutters, and you look at him incredulously.
“Are you kidding? I even asked Giselle for-” your mouth falls shut just in time, but he catches on quickly, mischief glinting.
“Asked her for what, Y/N?”
At this point, you figure it’s better to tell Donghyuck yourself, than let him find out through the grapevine.
“How to get you to fall in love with me,” you force out, and he lifts an eyebrow in response. “Is that what you attempting to play Overwatch was?”
You glare at him, feeling caught. “No!”
“Okay, well, then how about the skating- wait. Was Jaemin in on this?” He narrows his eyes, and you shrink under his gaze, only proving him right.
You’re not even surprised anymore and how Donghyuck managed to decipher each of Giselle’s tactics exactly, and you’re starting to wonder why you even trusted the girl in the first place.
Still, if it got you here, you suppose you owe the girl a thank you.
“I was right. He was in on it. I can’t believe you of all people would agree to something like this-”
That’s it. You’re not sure if you can take the embarrassment of Donghyuck slowly dismantling your plan any more, so you make another irrational decision.
Tiptoeing, you press a soft kiss to the boy’s lips.
It seems to work for a few seconds, Donghyuck freezing up and looking at you in disbelief. “Can we not talk about that anymore?” you ask sweetly, and he nods instinctively, a dazed expression on his face.
“You just kissed me,” he points out, and you nod, head tilting to the side in confusion. “Yeah.”
“You just kissed me.”
“Lee Donghyuck, if you don’t stop repeating the same sentence-”
“Let’s do that again.” He doesn’t hesitate to cut you off, hands gripping onto your hips firmly and pulling you towards him.
If your kiss was a peck, Donghyuck is completely different, eagerly stealing the air from your lungs as his mouth slots gently over yours, tugging gently on your bottom lip.
For someone who’s never dated, he’s an insanely good kisser, and it thrills and terrifies you in equal measure.
Your hands make their way to his chest unconsciously, fisting in the cotton material of his shirt. But he doesn’t stop, and you gasp when his tongue brushes against yours briefly. It’s so very different from the best friend you know and love, the one who’s always bright and focused - the way he kisses you is unrestrained and messy, almost as if he can’t quite get enough of you.
Your brain is short-circuiting, only tuned in to the feeling of Donghyuck’s lips moving against your own. You’re well aware that anyone could interrupt and resign you to months of endless teasing, but you can’t seem to get yourself to care, or stop.
It seems like too short a time when Donghyuck finally allows you some air, his thumb caressing your cheek gently. Even then, he doesn’t make any move to distance himself, breath fanning over your face with every exhale.
“Does this…does this mean we’re a thing now?” you ask, only realizing how dumb your question is once it escapes. However, Donghyuck doesn’t seem to care, looking at you with an expression so fond that it makes you blush.
“Yes. I mean, if you want to. I know I do,” he replies quickly, and your heart feels so full that it might burst as you look at your best friend-turned-boyfriend.
“I’ve never wanted anything more.”
Tumblr media
The months of October and November have affectionately been coined ‘break-up season’ by your entire school, owing to the sheer number of couples that fail to last under the pressure of academic expectations and the stress of final exams.
But if anything, the pursuit of the most important grades of your entire high school life has only brought you and Donghyuck closer, brief kisses shared in the library over textbooks and fingers intertwined whenever he’s sitting with you.
Call it trauma bonding, but it’s not as if you and Donghyuck haven’t been through dozens of other breakup seasons. It’s just a little more applicable now that the both of you are dating.
“Look, if I fail, I just won’t go to university. I’ll hone my other skills.”
You’re currently standing opposite Donghyuck in your bedroom, hands flung out to emphasise your point, and a bemused expression appears on his face at your words.
“You won’t fail, Y/N.”
“Yeah, but in the hypothetical situation that I do, I need to be ready to practise to be a trophy wife.”
“There’s practice for that?”
“Of course,” you reply earnestly. Donghyuck crosses his legs on your duvet, looking at you disbelievingly.
“Didn’t you see that one video? Of the computer engineer and his trophy wife. She’s retired at twenty-six, Donghyuck. It’s the dream.”
“Am I supposed to be the computer engineer?” he asks, and you nod eagerly.
“Does that mean you’re marrying me? You should have told me this was a proposal, Y/N. I would have prepared something,” he replies smoothly, tugging you closer to him by wrapping his fingers around your wrist.
Dating Donghyuck has only caused his flirtatious teasing to increase in intensity, and you’re not sure if your heart might just jump out of your chest one day from his actions. “You wish,” you retort weakly, giving in when he tugs you down to sit next to him.
“I do,” he replies, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your palm, and your eyes widen at his candidness. You drag your hands, and subsequently one of his, up to cover your face, embarrassed.
“You can’t just say things like that!”
“You’re the one who brought up being my trophy wife! What was I supposed to do, say no?”
You don’t reply, but Donghyuck’s stronger than you, eventually pulling your hands away by the wrists.
“In all seriousness, though, I mean it,” he says, looking at you insistently.
“But we’re still so young,” you mumble back. “We’ve barely graduated high school, and you’re saying this?”
“I’m not saying we should get married right now, obviously. I’m just saying that I’ve already spent most of my life with you-” he shifts slightly closer to you. “-what’s a few more decades?”
He asks the question earnestly, enunciating each and every syllable and allowing you to realise that he’s being perfectly honest - Donghyuck means every word. You’re suddenly gripped by longing as you look at him, taking in each and every one of the features that you have memorized by heart.
He’s so heartbreakingly beautiful, and he’s yours.
Student council president, physics nerd, gamer, budding musician - they’re all elements of Donghyuck that make him him, and every part is precious to you. There’s a sort of desperation that tugs at you, an unfamiliar feeling that doesn’t seem to make sense - you’re already dating him. What else could you possibly want?
Until the words appear in your mind, the realization dawning clear as day.
Like isn’t big enough of a word to encapsulate what you feel for Donghyuck, to represent the time you’ve spent with him. You’ve loved him since the first time he stood in your kitchen and attempted to bake a cake for your birthday, since he passed you your first Christmas present and gave you a kiss on your cheek when the both of you were seven, the moment immortalized in a photo frame above your bookshelf.
You’ve been head over heels for Donghyuck since he sat down on your bed and let you put face glitter along his cheekbones, or when he let you make an extra dish in Overcooked, even if it meant the both of you got fewer points. And you fall a little bit more each time he helps to massage your shoulders after practice, or when he kisses you with dizzying passion.
And you’re quite sure he knows you love him, from the way you remember the way he likes his ramen to having his favourite songs saved into your playlists. Or from how you’ve willingly watched Chicken Little with him, or made twenty pages of Languages notes for him to study before the exam. But you want to tell him, just because something about verbalizing it feels necessary.
Ningning might tease you for being a typical literature student, but you need to put your love for Donghyuck into words.
Which is why your voice doesn’t waver as you meet Donghyuck’s eyes, the warmth and adoration in his gaze reflected in yours.
“I love you, Donghyuck. You don’t have to say it back, of course, but I wanted you to know-”
He doesn’t say it back, but you get your answer when he kisses you again. It’s less hungry and more sweet, Donghyuck holding you as if you’re something fragile, something to be treasured.
You take the time to savour the moment, basking in the little bubble that he has created around the both of you. Even though your eyes are closed, you can feel Donghyuck smiling into the kiss, unable to hide his joy.
You never needed three ways to get Donghyuck to fall in love with you - he already had. All the both of you needed was a little bravery, that small push that would convince you to take the jump from friendship to romance.
“You look pretty like this,” he whispers, soft enough for only you to hear.
You’re not sure how to respond to that. Like anyone else, you have days where you feel like you look good, or times when Karina and Ningning are there to doll you up. But having Donghyuck call you pretty feels different, perhaps just because of how much he means to you.
“Thanks. You’re…pretty too,” you say absentmindedly, causing Donghyuck to huff a laugh.
“Really?” He asks, batting his eyelashes.
That earns Donghyuck a swat on his back, but you’re laughing as he falls back dramatically, pulling you down with him.
Just like that, the tender moment is broken, but you don’t mind it, not when he’s the one making you laugh.
“Today’s supposed to be movie night. What are we watching?” You ask, feeling the bed shift as Donghyuck turns to face you, resting his head on his hand.
“I was thinking The Notebook,” he suggests, and you try not to make your wince too obvious.
“But it’s so unrealistic.” Donghyuck lets out an affronted gasp at your words, pinching your side. “I will have you know The Notebook is one of the greatest romantic movies of all time-”
You shake your head resolutely, watching as his face falls. “Nope. Most definitely not,” you declare, and Donghyuck pouts slightly, head falling back onto the mattress. It takes a few moments of him staring at the ceiling before you hear a noise of amusement, and you can almost hear the wheels in his head turning.
“Did you think of something?” You ask, and when he faces you this time, his eyes are alight with mischief, mouth curled into a lazy smirk.
“We can do…other things.”
Your thoughts immediately drift haywire, and you look up at him, eyes wide. “Like what?”
“Like-” Donghyuck leans in tantalizingly close, the scent of his shampoo filling your nose, and his fingers brush over your lips just briefly.
“Kissing?” You respond reflexively, and his grin turns wider. “You suggested that, not me,” he retorts, but his eyes dart down towards your mouth anyways.
There isn’t any time for you to bite back a reply, before he finally closes the gap and connects your mouth with his. Donghyuck circles slow, lazy circles over your hipbone as he leans into you, and you place your hand on the nape of his neck to pull him closer.
When you push him away briefly for air, your cheeks are flushed, but Donghyuck looks just as affected as you are, hair messy from lying on the bed.
“I think we should scrap movie night. We can just do this instead,” he puts forth, and you nod eagerly, causing his grip on your waist to tighten.
“Sounds good to me.”
Tumblr media
taglist (let me know if you would like to be added for my future works!) ♠ @hyucksdarling @tonicandjins @rosariafanaccount @sundamariis @smwhrinthehaze @renjunphile @loevngyuno @@doieslefttoe @jvjsssnaa @liliansun @pockyandme @haechoshi
2K notes · View notes
ickadori · 4 months
Note
i love love love yuuji and mean! reader bc deep down i know yuuji has her in the palm of his hand he just don't know it yet
can we get more of them plsss, like how the other (nobara, megumi, gojo) react to their relationship?
𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈
[cws] reader is gn. megumi is married and has a kid.
Tumblr media
Gojo thinks it’s funny, as well as a tad bit adorable, to watch the way Yuji stares at you with clear adoration while you fuss, huff and occasionally throw a mildly insulting name his way.
He’s always shown his affection for his friends through a bit of teasing and chiding, and while he can admit that you lack the smiles and laughs that he would don while doing the ribbing, he can still see that you actually care about Yuji, way more than you actually let on.
You two are nearly finished with your studies, almost full fledged sorcerers, and yet you still bicker like you did when you were both first years, but there’s an underlying sense of love and care beneath it all.
~
“Oh, I forgot my lunch on the counter again.” Yuji deflates, and Gojo rocks back in his chair, lollipop rolling around in his mouth as his eyes crinkle in amusement under his mask.
“Of course you did.” Your eyes roll as you plop yourself down into the seat next to him, annoyance clear on your face as you place your own prepared lunch in front of you. “You always do, despite me reminding you every night to grab it before you leave.”
“How am I supposed to remember that? Won’t you reminder me in the morning, instead.”
“Do I look like a slave to you? Remind yourself!” You begin to unpack your lunch, and Gojo takes note of just how much you’ve packed. You’ve always had a healthy appetite, but it’s clear to even the blindest of men that you’ve packed enough to feed two. He grins around the stick in his mouth.
Yuji pouts, even bringing out the puppy eyes, and Gojo gives himself a mental pat on the back for teaching his student so well.
“Oh, I’m soo hungry.”
“Good. Maybe if you starve a bit then you’ll remember to bring your lunch next time.” You coolly reply, making a show of bringing a forkful of noodles to your mouth and moaning in satisfaction.
“You’re so cruel! I’m your boyfriend — be nice to me!” You two throw jabs back and forth, and Gojo is once again glad that all his relationships seem to fall flat past the ‘talking stage’ - once the other person starts trying to dig their way past all the superficial crap and get down to the core of Satoru Gojo. One person had been successful in making that far, and as far as he was concerned, they’d be the one and only person to ever see that part of him.
When Gojo lets his attention drift back to the two of you, he quietly tsks when he sees that you’ve passed a fork, because of course you brought two, to Yuji, along with three containers of food all containing his favorites.
Yuji is beaming, grin on his face as peppers kisses all over your cheeks, and you give him a blank look and weakly try to push his back, but Gojo can practically hear your heart stutter from where he’s sat at the front of the class.
“Ah, young love! You two really know how to make a man feel lonely.”
“Then maybe you should get out and go find someone to cure that loneliness and leave us alone.”
“This is my classroom, y’know.”
“So?”
“This is why no one has recommended you for promotion.”
++
Nobara and Megumi don’t really know how to react to the two of you. They like Yuji, and they like you, but they would have never pegged the two of you as a couple.
They had thought it was a joke when Yuji announced his crush on you, and had thought nothing about it when he talked about eventually asking you out. You ragged on everyone, but it seemed like you reserved most of it for Yuji.
They were sure you were only tolerating him to keep the peace, and even if Yuji was serious about his crush on you, there’d be no way that you’d actually reciprocate the feelings. Nobara had even planned to take charge of the damage control when you inevitably let Yuji down in the meanest way possible.
So imagine their surprise when the two of you had come strolling into class together one day, Yuji’s hand clutching onto yours for dear life as he looked at you as if you had personally breathed life into him and gave him the gift of free will.
Even now, years later, while they attend your rehearsal dinner for your wedding, they find it hard to believe that the person wearing a scowl on their face and avoiding their boyfriend’s advances has stayed this long.
“Hey, Megumi,” Nobara calls, champagne flute clutched between her fingers as she takes a sip, eyes not leaving the way Yuji tries, and fails, to plant a kiss on your cheek. You narrow your eyes at him, the cake knife that had been in your hand suddenly aimed at him as he lets out a loud laugh. “Should we be worried that this marriage will end in a breaking news segment?”
Megumi follows her gaze, head lightly shaking, before focusing his attention on the babbling toddler sitting in his lap. He pinches off a piece of cake from his slice before offering it to the little boy. “If they didn’t kill him when Sukuna popped out and let his in-laws know the real reason why their soon-to-be-married kid was walking funny, I’m sure he’s more than in the clear now.” Nobara snorts, recalling how you had called her enraged and on the verge of tears as you explained how Sukuna had blurted out the night they had and ruined Christmas dinner.
“Guess you’re right.” She looks back towards the two of you, and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise when she sees the complete 180 that you two have taken. The dull knife that had been branded is displaced somewhere, your hands now linked with Yuji’s, diamond rings sparkling together, and there’s a soft, almost bashful, look on your face as he brings your hand up to his mouth and presses a kiss to the ring on your finger.
He smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners, and Nobara sees a matching one spread across your face before he’s swooping down to finally get his first kiss of the night.
“Bleugh.” She dramatically sticks out her tongue, Megumi’s son erupting into a fit of laughter, and slouches in her chair. “I can’t believe you two idiots tied the knot before me—and you even had a kid.”
616 notes · View notes
shinjisdone · 8 months
Text
Female!MC and Friends - Malleus Draconia
[What's it like to be friends with Malleus and be dragged to his Events as a female]
(Very much and I mean very much and I mean super duper, incredibly unbelievably, HUMONGUSLY AND GIGANTICALLY based on my oc's reaction)
Tumblr media
Hooh boy. Malleus Draconia. Crown Prince of Briar Valley. Powerful Dragon-Fae (or something like that), super old and feared so much that no one dares to invite him to anything.
Well, to you though, he is Tsunotarou-kun.
Like, you're not stupid. After the shenanigans with Crowley, Grim, Ace and Heartslabyul, you quickly learned that NRC is much different than your home.
And even though you did not know who he was, you could still tell this tall, dark and mysterious person was probably very important (or caused as much trouble as the others).
ALSO HE JUST LAUGHED LIKE A VILLAIN WHEN YOU SAID YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHO HE WAS
AND HE CALLS YOU CHILD OF MAN???
YE HE'S WEIRD, BRO YOU WERE JUST TELLING THE TRUTH
At Helloween...
Oh? You walk out of your door and everything is all different? Where did all these decorations come from?
There he is, Malleus, dressed in eastern clothing and seemingly cosplaying as himself - a dragon.
He explains his intentions to use your dorm as Diasomnia's Helloween place and you're fine with it. While he certainly was cryptic at the beginning, Malleus quickly proved himself to be calm and collected - and especially kind. He respected your decisions, listened to your words with great curiousity and does not cause any trouble. You were able to quickly call him a friend, which is probably why he trusts you, too.
It's not like you got any money or dormmates to pull of the same thing as Diasomnia and you trust Malleus as well. He eagerly tells you of his newly-found knowledge of eastern dragons.
Yet as the night continues on and guests become more and more...demanding...Malleus' patience is waning. First, the assaults to the Ramshakle dorm and now one of them has the audacity to casually touch him. Malleus himself was surprised at his own impatience and he truly was ready to spit out some fire...
But then, the harassment went from the dorm, from him, to you...
A few first pointing out how your outfit does not fit with the rest of the aesthetic and then one noticed how you were that one magicless student, who failed to trick them when she couldn't perform any spells! And wait, you're a girl?! Haha, isn't NRC supposed to be an all-boys-academy?
Some are saying how funny this is, how cute you are or how you don't fit into here at all.
Some are getting too close.
And quickly, your vision is blocked by a giant, long, black dragon tail and deep, vibrating laughter. Malleus is finding a certain glee in their arrogance that turned into fear oh so quickly.
And when their little selfie-sticks caught green fire, his glee turned into schadenfreude as they ran off, swinging their devices in hopes the damaged will cease.
"You do not play with a dragon's treasures...come and fear me if you dare!"
He's getting wayyy too much into this and Lillia is thankfully here to stop this.
You thank him (and even though his sudden 180° was really uuuhhh scary) and catch your breath. This was really...something.
"Hah, thanks, Tsunotarou-kun. But, uh, I don't think we'd better do that...or we'll burn the entire dorm down..."
As much as Malleus has to begrudgingly agree, your little 'Tsunotarou-kun' cheered him up a bit. It's like honey.
Kinda feels guilty for going so full 180° afterwards though. He did not mean to ruin anyone's Helloween (aside from the annoying guests). He hopes you still enjoyed this? Your first Helloween in Twisted Wonderland with him?
Once you reassure him that you did, he'll be okay :)
Ask him for a trick-or-treat round! Or maybe don't, cuz he is Malleus Draconia, feared crown prince of Briar Valley and very much showing his dragon fangs, tail and fire. He isn't gonna get any treats :,)
Just...try to spook him! There is a chance of him laughing in your face and telling you that you need more than a simple 'booh!' to startle him...but good try, Child of Man.
Oooor, he actually plays along but instead of pretending to be spooked, he just chuckles before giving you a treat. It is the custom, no?
Uh, thanks????
Still feels kinda bad for snapping there (though he'd set people on fire again in a heartbeat for being this obnoxious and bothering you) so he tries to be a bit more considering. Will tell you that you are indeed not funny or out of place here. Your custome may not fit his but it is still a good one. (Thx tsunotarou...)
Shows you around the entire decorated dorm. Look how nice Ramshakle looks! (For once)
Haunted house tour? How intruiging. And you're inviting him to join you? How INTRUIGING! (Happy Malleus noises)
Will not end up being impressed by any of the 'spooky spells'. He can do better if you ask him.
Please do not, he will not hold back to make the earth rumble and the sky tremble just to get a shriek out of everyone. They're gonna end up running straight towards the exit.
Not scared at all. Either unimpressed or chortling out of politeness.
Malleus more or less is only here to spend time with you and if you have a good time, then he does as well.
If you do get scared, he's first gonna be surprised. Seriously? These cheap, baby-like, first-grader spells? They're more like special effects if anything.
Well, Malleus shall not make fun of you and instead promises to protect you when these 'horrors shake you to the bones'. Do not fear, the mighty dragon will keep you safe and sound.
If you're scared, he will find it funny, however. Technically Malleus is the scariest thing here in the entire NRC. Everyone does not dare to speak his name in fear yet here you are hiding behind him ('Just checking if your costume is intact' you say. Sure you do) acting as if Malleus Draconia is the most harmless fly in all of Twisted Wonderland. You truly humor him, Child of Man.
Watching the fireworks with him...
Oh? He is getting invited? (Malleus said calmly but the huge grin on his face betrays his composure)
Will do his utmost to learn from Kalim's home country, especially when he was so kind to him.
And look at that, his favorite Child of Man is here too. Couldn't get any better!
There is a certain relaxing atmosphere here that he cannot help but indulge in...Malleus is sure to drag you to a few places. He is just very happy to have such a long time to spend with you and not the usual nightly walks you two have.
Very happy to try these new outfits ESPECIALLY because they are not his style. Turquiouse silk adorning his horns...so intruiging, so nice!
Despite everyone wearing matching outfits, Malleus is very happy to have you two match. You may not have the exact same style but it makes him a bit giddy to know you're matching in colors and flowers. Perhaps he should introduce you to Diasomnia's wear so you can match again?
It's interesting to see you in different clothes in general...but he gets extra happy that you match. Try as he might, no spell can cast that smile off his face.
You look quite lovely. He'd let that slip off his lips.
The markets are so colorful. Will show each thing he finds interesting (it's everything).
And when you shop with that matching fit and flowers, many clerks will ask if you are a couple and offer couple things to you.
"Oh, what a lovely partner you have there!"
"Oh, yes she is." Malleus would answer casually, like it's nothing outstanding.
"Wouldn't you like to gift your girlfriend something nice and fitting?"
Would ponder about the offer while you explain, haha NO you two ARENT a couple!!!111!
Malleus would brush the comment off and simply say he'd rather prefer that exotic fruit over there. You and he can share :)
So you do.
And when nighttime arrives and the fireworks start? Malleus admires them (while secretly thinking HE could more magnificient ones with pure magic but he bites his tongue. No need to be rude after everything everyone here has done for him).
Especially since they invited him :)
Will enjoy the beginning of the fireworks with everyone before inviting you privately on a boat ride. He wanted to since the beginning and this is an opportune time, no?
Enjoys the rocking of the boat and the lit sky above. It feels like only you two can see the fireworks, like they are meant for you two only, even when you are surrounded by awing people :)
Still, Malleus' arrogance shines a tad bit through and he takes your hand and has your attention on his magic. Why don't we add a smaller firework display right here before our very own eyes? As the sky sparkles in all kinds of colors, your own show would sparkle in green :)
PLEASE DONT ACTUALLY Malleus says 'small' but underestamates his own power. WHAT IS SMALL TO HIM IS VERY CATASTRPHICAL FOR NORMAL PEOPLE
When you dance at a masquerade...
My 👏 man👏 looks so damn good. And he knows it.
Like, you cannot convince me that he did NOT go all the way out BECAUSE HE GOT INVITED BY ANOTHER SCHOOL
TO A MASQUERADE? OH MY, BETTER PRETTY UP
LOOK;;; AT HIS MAKE UP
HIS SLEEVES
THE HAT AND THE HAIR
THE HEELS!!!!111!111
100% expects you to compliment him. He, Malleus Draconia, is a bit of an arrogant guy and will totally indulge in your compliments while acting humbly and accepting them with grace.
(He knows he looks great)
Nevertheless, he will get a HUGE grin on his face ("W-Waka-sama??? Are you okay, you're grinning like a...a kid in a candy store...) when you call him...anything really! Anything that comes from you is worth a treasure.
Oh, Malleus? Handsome? Oh my, stoooop (actually dont).
You tell him that he does look like a handsome prince from a fairytale book, ready to steal the show with a bold wink - and he just...laughs. Laughs and laughs like villain from a fairytale rather. Oh, Child of Man...you truly know no fear.
Feels quite confident even when he slightly expects people to fear him. He doesnt want to make a bad impression.
Will definitely compliment your outfit as well, no matter what it is. It could be as fancy as his or something simple but Malleus will be sure to let you know that you look great as well tonight :) he wants you to feel confident, too.
Malleus will also absolutely ask you to dance! No matter what, he truly wants to have fun tonight and that includes dancing with you. He'll assure you if you feel nervous about dancing. He had dance lessons ever since he was a wee egg child so just follow his lead.
Might, uh, really boast about his skills by dancing like a real 'fairytale Prince' as you called him. He leads and swings and dips you as if he was born to do this. Does this to actually boast but to also impress you. See? He wasn't lying when he said you can rely on him.
He forgets the rest of the world as he does this. A smile graces his masked features as his eyes crinkle, looking at you.
While Deuce was a red mess as he touched your body, Malleus has no problem taking your hand while resting the other on your waist. He has no problem getting bolder either as he snakes his arm entirely around your back.
And as the dance ends and he bows to you, Malleus sees you snap out of the trance and quickly, clumsily bow back. He jokingly asks how it was, rather as a way to jest with you.
Yet you truthfully tell him that it took you off-guard and that it felt magical - even if he did not use an ounce of it. You weren't joking when you said he was like Prince Charming in these moments as you danced.
It startles him to have you see him in such a positive light...in such a romanticised, captivating light. Not as a dragon-fae or as a future ruler...but as Tsunotarou.
It brings a smile on his face and a faint feeling in his heart congregates for the rest of the night.
HELP IVE BEEN LISTENING TO ONCE UPON A DREAM IN BOTH ENGLISH AND JAPANESE AND....MALLEUS MAN HE CAN SING AND HE LOOKS SO PRETTY NOOOO
770 notes · View notes
exhaslo · 5 months
Note
OML IM SO DOWN BAD FOR A TEACHER!MIGUEL AND SHY & QUIET FEM!READER WHERE THEY ARE LIKE SECRETLY DATING AND READER IS JS DOING HER WORK IN CLASS TRYING TO FINISH AS QUICK AS POSSIBLE AND FINISHES LIKE THIRTY MINUTES BEFORE CLASS ENDS AND STARTS WRITING ONESHOTS OF RANDOM FICTIONAL CHARACTERS FROM HER BOOKS THAT SHE READS AND MIGUEL JS ASKS FOR HER TO STAY AFTER CLASS (now playing:teachers pet - Melanie Martinez)
Ohhhhhh I gots this! Oh and just to be safe:
Warning: Minors DNI, Minor smut, thigh riding
--------------------
It started with a simple misunderstanding. You, who had just started college, and Miguel, the newest and hottest Professor in school, had a mix up. Miguel was supposed to meet with a fellow teacher and you were supposed to meet with a tutor. When the two of you were alone in the office, one thing led to another.
Miguel was fascinated with getting you to come out your shell just for him. He loved how quiet you were in class and how you always avoided answering questions. You were just the perfect little shy angel he had always wanted. If only you were not his student. Dating you was difficult since it had to be a secret.
Luckily, you were good at keeping it. You had a very small group of friends and Miguel had an even smaller one. He'd help you tutor while you sat on his lap. Your cute flustered cheeks giving him a thrill each time. Miguel wanted to test your limits. He wanted to hear your shy little voice cry for him.
It was nearing the end of the semester and you were cramming to finish your essay in time. Miguel was watching you, along with the other students. He walked around the classroom by the time there was thirty minutes left, wanting to make sure everyone was focusing on their report.
"Miles, if you have time to doodle, you have time to write." Miguel said sternly as he passed another student.
His red orbs then turned towards you. Like a lit fire, he drew closer, wanting to see what his precious little girlfriend was writing. You were focused. Something that was a rare, yet welcomed sight. As he approached your desk, his eyes widen with surprise. You were not working on your essay, you were working on something else.
"(Y/n), see me after class." Miguel told you.
You couldn't help but squeak before quickly returning to your essay. Once the bell rang, you played with your fingers, waiting for everyone to leave. Once they did, Miguel approached the door and locked it. He closed the curtain and patted his thigh. You shyly walked up to him, taking a seat on his large thigh.
"S-Sorry, I got...distracted." You admitted. Miguel's smirk grew wider,
"I noticed. Writing something so bold in the middle of class. How will people react to finding out the shy girl likes her smut?"
"M-Miguel! Y-You wouldn't!" You squeaked, tears threatening to spill. Miguel chuckled, wiping those tears away with a kiss,
"Of course not, but I want to know where those ideas came from." He said with a hum.
You bit your lower lip, covering your face with your sleeve. You tried to avoid eye contact, but it was hard with Miguel. He was just too handsome for you to avoid.
"Y-You," You whispered. Miguel licked his lips, holding your chin,
"Then do something instead of write it."
His demanding tone was so sexy. You spread your legs over his thigh, slowly grinding your hips against him. You had to be careful. Miguel was your teacher. If anyone caught you two, then you would probably be expelled from the college and Miguel would be fired. You didn't want that, especially with how exciting this was.
Miguel was watching as you dry humped his leg. Your damp panties already staining his pants. Miguel's grin grew wider as he watched his shy princess grow bolder with him. Soft whimpers as moans were escaping your lips, turning him on.
"What a naughty student. Couldn't finish your essay on time and trying to get a better grade?" Miguel played along. You flinched towards his words, "Is that right?"
"Y-Yes. I...I need to pass this class, professor," You whimpered, glancing at him with glossy eyes. Miguel groaned quietly, holding your hips as you grinded faster,
"Well this will guarantee a B. If you want an A...You're going to have to see me after hours, in my private office."
"Y-Yes, sir." You moaned lowly, shaking as you cam. Miguel sat you up on his desk, kissing you deeply,
"Then it's a date."
Right before Miguel dismissed you, he gave you a small smack on the ass. You yelped and blushed furiously before noticing the stain you made on his pants. Turning even redder, you apologized to him before running off. Miguel just chuckled in response, watching you run off.
"She's getting more than just an A."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Hope you enjoyed ;)
828 notes · View notes
recreationalfanfics · 10 months
Text
ANOTHER TWISTED NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM THOUGHT: REXY.
Tumblr media
Like, imagine if Rexy was able to come with you to Twisted Wonderland one day or something and everyone just freaking out because giant skeleton T-Rex but also, like, the fact that only YOU can calm down the giant skeleton T-Rex.
- Imagine fighting someone during their overblot and you just grab a bone and they catch it and they're all: "HA! Was that supposed to do anything!?" and you're all: "Yeah, this. REXY, HERE, BOY!" and all they hear is a roar before they get head butted by this fucking dino.
- Crewel could probably tame Rexy tbh and would watch him for you when you go out. Like, Rexy is growling at him but Crewel hits his snout with a whip and tells him to sit and he DOES. But then he'll pet him and be all sweet.
- LMAO, FLOYD WOULD TRY TO CLIMB HIM AND SHIT AND AZUL AND JADE HAVE TO STOP HIM. Azul would try to trick you into making a contract with him for Rexy but you and the giant dinosaur just glare at him and he realizes that he's in danger.
- Obviously some people can magically restrain him but you will fight to the end just like you fought for Grim. That is your SWEET BOY AND YOU LOVE HIM.
- Rexy being a bit distracting because he's waiting outside your class window and all the guys are just staring out the window at him as he whines for you and you chuckle nervously at Trien whose giving you a very stern look.
- THE BOYS USING HIM TO PRANK RSA STUDENTS. Like, Ace has the bone and he's all: "C'mon, boy, c'mon!" and Jack is advising them that this isn't a good idea and Epel is all: "No, it's a fantastic idea!" and Jedediah is all: "YOU SAID IT!" and Octavius is there like: "It's really not."
- Rexy would still be scared of Malleus honestly, like, he cowers whenever Malleus comes around and it dissapoints Malleus because he loves Rexy so much. He's like a non magical dragon- what were they called again, oh yes! Dinosaurs. After you get Rexy used to his prescence, he'd love to hear you info dump to him about dinosaurs and the two of you walk around campus exchanging gargoyle and Dino facts.
- The way that Rexy will often times come running back to you with a random student in his mouth and throw them at your feet excitedly, Rook is smiling like a freak as he admires how beautiful and dangerous Rexy's teeth are and you're like: "REXY, GET THAT OUT OF YOUR MOUTH! You don't know where he's been-"
1K notes · View notes
kenmakodz · 28 days
Text
CANDID LOVE ˙✧˖📷
06. brain food ☆
writing in-between cuts!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a quiet knock on the door catches your attention, which was previously focused on scrolling through random shows on Netflix. a weird feeling, you get. an emotion that seems to be the love-child of excitement and nervousness. there's no time to run away from these feelings, though, so you get up and open the door for the poor boy who's been hauling 3 bags of food.
"my god" he sighs, setting the bags down on the coffee table. "i think my stomach has eyes. there's no way we're finishing all this in one night." you laugh, noticing how he's holding his arm out of pain. "i've definitely done the same, more times than i'd like to admit-- here, sit down for a bit." gesturing to the couch, you sit down and pat a spot relatively close to you. he takes this offer with open arms, considering he'd walked pretty far. "sorry i took a while, hopefully i didn't keep you waiting too long?" his hands fidget together as he takes in your room. it's the size of a triple, but you have it to yourself. it's quite surprising how nice the school treats transfer students, considering how main students are usually shoved into a tiny room with 2-3 other people. you place your hand upon his; a ballsy move, but you know how it feels to be anxious about things. you don't want him to be anxious with you. "it's fine, really. i don't mind waiting for you." you smile, moving your hand back to it's previous position. embarrassment clearly runs through his body, but to you he just looked starstruck. after a moment of pushing these feelings back, he returns your smile. "i'm glad, then. um, can we eat? i fear my stomach is going to wrinkle up if we don't." "yes yuuta, we can eat."
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"okay, okay. this seems good for now, i think?" he sits back from the laptop you two have been sharing, taking a second to re-read the outline. your eyes scan the page as well; it's a very.. rough outline. you start laughing at the last few lines, where he'd begun to give up on being professional. after all, only you two will see this draft. "why are you laughing?" he pouts, thinking you're making fun of the ideas laid out. "oh relax," you lean back with him, realizing he's gotten much closer than before. "i can just tell that you were rushing writing the final scene." his head whips to you and a hand clutches his chest, feigning shock; a sarcastic gasp falls from his lips. "how could you! we worked very hard on this!" your hand pushes his away from his chest, the both of them landing on his lap. "oh, shut up. i'm just teasing." he huffs anyways, a facade you've become accustomed to. after all, one of your best friends is nobara kugisaki.
reaching to a stuffed dog to your side, you hand it to him. "here, will an emotional support dog help?" he sighs, wrapping it in his arms. "i suppose." laughing again, you sit up and grab the laptop once more. "you're so dumb." he grips the toy more, you don't realize it, but he likes the way it smells of lavender just like you do. "what are you doing now, don't you think its enough for tonight?" you stop to think, after sending the draft to your phone. "well, we'll need to send casting calls to the neighboring schools sometime soon.. but i guess we can be done for now." he closes the laptop for you and places it on the table once again, looking back. "good, we can do that another time-" his sentence is cut off due to his phone practically blowing up in the room over. "sorry," he starts, getting up and handing the stuffed dog back to you. "let me go check on that."
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"hey, sorry again. my friends were blowing up my phone for some reason." he comes back into the room where you two were sitting before, unsure if he should sit back down. he can't read your face, and you can't read his either, despite you both feeling the same way. "it's okay. you can sit back down if you want to stay a bit longer..?" you look down for a split second, anticipating the rejection he was about to give you. "i was looking for shows before you got here, but i couldn't find a good one." you try to convey what you say as a question, but it almost comes out as a plea. he doesn't say anything immediately, and you almost get upset? looking back up, you realize he's already getting ready to sit back down with you. "i'd love to stay. i also have an amazing suggestion for a show." your eyes light up, and it feels like the room filled with more air the way you both sighed with relief. "oh really?" you tease him, as he takes back the toy he'd left with you. "lay it on me then."
Tumblr media
fun facts -> TWO PEOPLE PINING FOR EACHOTHER BUT NEITHER KNOW IT!!!! a classic trope. chefs kiss. yuuta offered to go get snacks not only because he was starving, but he also needed time to calm himself down before going to y/n's dorm. he was scared. scared that he'd say something stupid, give her the ick, embarrass himself. you know, the works. once he got there though, it felt like he never wanted to go home again.
-> GOD I LOVE THEM SO MUCh. screams. kicking my feet like a little girl writing this chapter.
previous, masterlist, next [07. i hate men (except you two)]
Tumblr media
taglist is open! @just-a-girlblogger @moryymor @swissy23 @hvnyacoded @sereniteav @k4romis @jayathelostdragon  @h3rmess @olivandeee @lysaray @ari3000dontcare @raechu11 @marifujioka @nyxlai @sonicsolos @saltypuffin1040 @r0ckst4rjk @h8ani @lmaolmaolmao @maya-maya-56 @mittensdun @adrenova @pnkblueberry @morgyyyyyyy @chososwh0r3 @lunecqm @r4veeen @arivsx @levlucs-kiru @mellozhi
if you are in bold, i am unable to tag you :( and if i forgot to add you, PLEASE YELL AT ME
⤷ © kenmakodz
236 notes · View notes
seonghwaddict · 8 months
Text
★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 009 ] flowers on vines.
Tumblr media
synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of… interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. mildly suggestive content, implication of size kink. word count. 3k
        chapter viii // chapter ix // chapter x
Tumblr media
With a week left for the project, thirteen out of the fourteen had come and gone with the snap of a finger. You were aware time seemed to go so fast because of the person you were partnered with. Wooyoung had a way of getting the most stubborn of people to have the most fun. Meeting with him—and his friends, or, you supposed, your friends—nearly every day a week for months, it wasn’t a surprise that it went by so quickly.
You worked very well together, a shock to you initially but after getting so close to him it made sense. Not to mention how close you’ve gotten to his friends, who you now also considered some of your own best friends and loved. Not that you loved them, but you thought they were cool and fun and nice and unbelievably handsome and-
Your thoughts were quickly cut off by a knock on your studio door that cut through the music playing from your bluetooth speaker. Well, “studio” was a bit of an exaggeration.
When you and Sangmi first moved into this apartment, it became apparent to the two of you that there was an extra room. Of course, knowing that she was a dance student and probably practised for the majority of the day, you let her have the extra room but she quickly shot you down and told you to use it for your art instead. It wasn’t spacious enough to be a dance studio, anyway.
There was space for your assortment of shelves and easels, a long table stretched the length of the wall under the single window in the room, paint tubes, brushes and palette knives scattered all over the surface and various filled sketchbooks, new and scrapped canvases crammed just below the table on the equally long shelf.
You set a small couch next to the door, the wall behind it decorated with several of your paintings you favoured over the others. Sometimes, while you were working, you let Sangmi sit on the couch and relax, either watching you or doing something of her own as you enjoyed each other’s presence.
You set your paintbrush down next to your palette on the table and wiped your paint stained hands on a cloth before opening the door.
“Hey, I’m gonna go to the dance studio for a few hours.” Sangmi told you as you stepped aside to let her in. She looked at the painting of Wooyoung you were working on, the reference picture a screenshot of the dance video he filmed, taped to the top part of the easel. “Oh, it’s coming along so well!”
Over the past weeks she’s been checking on you and your progress, reminding you to eat whenever you get too carried away with painting. She’s seen all the stages and all the discarded versions of the painting, as well as all your frustration when you couldn’t get things to look quite right.
The canvas was fairly large, a magnificent oil painting of Wooyoung finally living up to your visions on the fabric—so you figured there wouldn’t be a need for smaller paintings as well. The dance was a contemporary one, choreographed to a song that made use of traditional instruments and performed on the stage of the university’s auditorium. The part you chose to paint was an almost breathtaking point of the choreography where he switched from sharp movements to an almost trance-like slowness, looking up with one hand elegantly reaching upwards. There was no denying his talent. 
The lighting from the stage’s spotlight was already dramatic, but you tweaked it on your canvas, adding more contrast and a soft glow to his illuminated features to create a more jarring effect. He looked ethereal with the way you painted him.
A couple minutes later, Sangmi left and you could continue painting in peace. Well, until the doorbell rang, at least. With a groan, you set your paintbrush down and walked into the hall to see who you needed to buzz in. As soon as you saw who was waiting outside the building, your eyes lit up and you wasted no time in hitting the button to unlock the door.
You practically ran to the bathroom to wash the paint off your fingers. By the time he arrived at your door, you already cleaned yourself up a bit and made a bit of an effort to sort out your messy hair. With a deep breath, you opened the door and practically threw yourself on him.
“Gosh, I thought I’d never see you again!” You pretended to cry into his chest as your embraced him tightly.
But Yunho only chuckled, ruffling your hair. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”
You were only half joking. With you focused on your painting and him having to attend shootings and rehearsals for the end of year movie of the acting students, you hadn’t seen each other in a while. Each of the artistic majors had some kind of collaborative showcase near the end of the year; this year art majors and dancers worked together, the film majors worked with the actors, and the music majors worked with the theatre students. For that reason, you couldn’t find a lot of time to see half of the boys in general. 
“That’s an ironic thing to say for an actor.” You stepped away from him with a giddy laugh, noticing the bags in his hand and pointing at them. “What’s that?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Yunho smiled and walked past you to set the bags on the small breakfast table between the kitchen and living area. “I brought food. I didn’t know what you wanted,” he began taking different containers out of the bags, “so I got a variety—some soups, tteokbokki, fried chicken, japchae, gimbap and, of course, rice.”
“Thank you so much, but really didn’t have to get all this-“
He cut you off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about it, I want to treat you to some delicious food.”
After a moment of you biting your lips with uncertainty, you nodded gratefully and moved to the kitchen to grab utensils and bowls. 
The two of you conversed comfortably as you stuffed yourselves full with the food he brought. You asked about the movie but he’d only give you answers so vague he may not have said anything at all; “What is it about?” “Well, you know, characters and stuff.” “Yunho, please!” “Ok, ok, fine… it’s a romance and involves characters.”
Though you didn’t really notice it, he paid a lot of attention to you. Whether you were talking or just eating, he was constantly taking notes in his mind. When you briefly mentioned a movie you liked, he later reminded himself to watch it when he had the time. Or when your eyes gave a slightly different reaction to a particular dish that showed you enjoyed it, he later reminded himself to make sure to order that dish next time he brings you food. Even when he was the one talking, he was so focused on the warmth in your face as you listened to him that he nearly lost his train of thought several times.
You told him about the progress of your painting, but adamantly refused to show it to him even when he begged so prettily. However, he quickly quelled his curiosity as you said something about wanting to surprise him and the rest of the guys. Something unfamiliar in his chest clenched when you giggled at his pout, reaching your hand over to pat his forearm.
“But I want to see your paintings!” He huffed jokingly, making you laugh again.
“I can just paint something for you out here.”
He seemed to be considering the offer for a while and then his pout disappeared, his eyes lighting up even though there was a darker glint in his eyes you couldn’t quite decipher. A smirk spread across his face.
“What if… you paint me?”
“Yeah, sure, I’ve thought about using you as a reference so-”
“No, no, you misunderstood me,” he let out a mischievous little chuckle that twisted your stomach, “I mean, what if you paint on me?”
“O-oh…” Mildly surprised by the request, you blinked. “Are you, um… are you sure you’d want that?”
His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you. “Of course I do! But if you don’t feel comfortable doing it, you don’t have to.”
With a newfound determination to make him happy, you nodded and got up, telling him to stay where he was seated while you went to grab some paint. Deciding oil paints weren’t the best idea, you settled on gouache, something between watercolour and acrylic that would wash off easily. You grabbed a few clean brushes and walked out with everything in your hands.
The sight that waited for you in the living room had your breath caught in your throat. Yunho was still there, as you had asked, but he had gone to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to lay on the floor.
He was on top of the towel.
Laying face down.
Shirtless.
You were glad he wasn’t facing you, otherwise he would’ve seen the way you had to turn around to pull yourself together. There was no denying how well-built Yunho’s body was—or any of their bodies, in fact—but seeing it so bare, despite only seeing his back, did things to you. For the sake of the friendship, you swallowed down the nervousness bubbling inside you and turned back around, grabbing a cup of water and a small towel from the kitchen before walking to where he laid himself down and kneeling next to his body.
You set your supplies next to you and took a breath. He sensed you next to him and turned his head to look at you sideways.
“Something wrong, tiny?”
The nickname only added into that static feeling of nervousness but you still shook your head, beginning to dip one of the brushes in water. “Everything’s fine, just relax, please.”
Yunho nodded and sighed softly, turning his head to the other side and closing his eyes. As you inspected your colour palette, you took a moment to think of what to paint on him. What would he like?
Finally, you decided to just let your hands take over instead of thinking about it too carefully. Knowing him, he’d be happy no matter what you decided to draw. Holding your breath, you let the brush lathered with paint touch his skin. There was no mistaking the way the hair at the nape of his neck stood up with goosebumps as he shivered ever so slightly. You briefly apologised about the paint being cold, but he didn’t mind at all. 
You drew a wavy, thin, sage green line from his left shoulder diagonally down to the left side of his waist, watching as the damp bristles glided over his muscles. They weren’t as defined as an athlete’s, but they were there, soft indications of his fitness.
As you let your mind and paintbrush wander, you found yourself turning that line into a vine of flowers and leaves. The style was almost impressionistic, barely abstract and precise smudges of colours that resembled plants you didn’t know the names of. With each stroke of the brush and twitch of his muscles, your shoulder relaxed and you let yourself bask in the moment just as he was.
Soon enough, you were happy with your creation and sat back to inspect it. Feeling the absence of your brushstrokes, Yunho turned his head to look at you again.
“Done?”
You tilted your head one way and then the other, looking at it from different angles before nodding with satisfaction. He gave you a toothy smile.
“Do you wanna do the front too, tiny?”
“Sure- wait, what?” Your eyes snapped to his, his question making your face feel warm. Painting on his naked front torso seemed considerably more… intimate than painting on the plane of his back.
“Yeah, like, paint on the front? Maybe you can connect the designs.”
And so you found yourself painting a similar vine on his chest after he laid himself on his back—of course, he had waited until you told him the paint was dry in fear of ruining your hard work. This vine started from his waist where the vine on his back ended and creeped up to his neck, disappearing behind his ear.
Throughout the process, you had to keep reminding yourself not to let your hands indulge in a few caresses of his porcelain skin, gaslighting yourself into believing he was just a canvas. But the way he was looking at you didn’t help much.
His eyes almost looked glossy as the reflection of the ceiling lamp’s light danced in them, looking at you with something you could only compare to adoration. You didn’t hate it at all, but you weren’t sure how to feel about it.
You also weren’t sure how you ended up in this position. At some point you must’ve been so focused, you didn’t notice him move you to sit on his upper thighs. Straddling him. But you didn’t want to make things awkward and move off him (not to mention that you greatly liked this position), so you stayed and continued your work from on top of him. You desperately tried to ignore the size difference that seemed so much more obvious when you were on him like this while he, on the contrary, revelled in it.
And at first you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, threatening to break through your rib cage. But the erratic beating soothed itself; it calmed down quickly when it came to terms with the fact that you were safe in his vicinity. He was safe.
Painting his front was similar to his back, his muscles twitching every time you brushed over them with paint. Now that you were seeing him like this, you nearly asked him never to put on a shirt again. 
You found yourself adding details that were ultimately meaningless and would most definitely go unnoticed, but you weren’t quite ready to move away from him. Not when he was looking at you with such round, tender eyes.
“Can I take a picture of this?”
His voice seemed slightly deeper than usual, perhaps because he hadn’t used it in a while. His question briefly caught you off guard, but you realised that it was kind of cute, really. So you nodded without lifting your eyes from the area you were painting just next to his abs.
Yunho’s hand reached over to the coffee table and he slid his phone off the surface. First he took a picture from his own point of view, looking down his chest to see one of your hands painting gorgeous flowers while your other one rested on his free hand’s forearm, the way you straddled him so perfectly just further down the shot.
The next picture he took was a landscape oriented photo, his hand outstretched to the side. This shot depicted the scene from the side, both of your smiling faces in the picture, as well as the bend of your arm as you painted near his neck and the soft arch of your back as you leaned over him ever so slightly. The way his free hand’s fingers rubbed and tapped their way up your thighs until they reached your waist went unnoticed by the camera.
While you were very focused on painting, you did eventually relax enough to let your own free hand explore his torso. With one hand focused on refining the flowers, the other glided over wherever the paint wasn’t touching, following the dips and rises of his body. It wasn’t until you accidentally passed your thumb over one of his nipples that he made an effort to stop you.
When it happened, he let out a shaky breath that seemed somewhat like a silent whimper, he raised a hand to close around your wrist and lifted it away from his chest. After he muttered a “tiny, please” you nodded and relaxed your hand in his grip, face flushing out of embarrassment.
Instead of dropping your hand, he repositioned his hold on it to cradle it gently, pulling it to his face and consequently pulling you further up his lap. You gaped at him as he pressed an electric kiss to your knuckles. But he didn’t stop there; he flexed your wrist to present your palm to him, his eyes never breaking contact with yours until his kisses trailed to your wrist. His lips lingered over your pulse point and you watched as his eyes fluttered shut.
It was impossible to deny the dark tint appearing on your cheeks, but you were glad to see he looked just as affected. Pink blush adorned his soft cheeks, his eyes seeming slightly dazed when he finally dropped your hand and looked up to you.
It wasn’t long after that that the paint fully dried and he had to leave, voice hoarse as he explained that he had an early shooting the next day and should probably go rest. After helping you clean up, Yunho pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, barely missing the corner of your lips, and took off into the night.
If you collapsed onto the couch and squealed into a pillow as soon as he was gone, that was nobody’s business but yours.
And if as soon as he got home, he practically ripped off his shirt and gushed to his brothers about how small and pretty you looked when you were on top of him—foregoing showing the pictures because those were for him and only him—that was also nobody's business but his either.
Tumblr media
  [ lilo's notes ... ] thank you all for waiting so patiently for this chapter <33. as you can see, you and yunho are quite… close 🤭 i honestly had so much fun writing this, possibly too much- but anyways, i hope you enjoyed it!! also, don’t worry, i did not forget about that little yeosang moment from the previous chapter, it will most definitely be brought up~~
  ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ network ... @cromernet @blankjournal
  ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ taglist ... @atinytinaa @marievllr-abg @pocketjoong @moonsangie @sarahleighflora @kiss-hwa @kyukyustar @cqndiedcherries @ateezourstars @kitty4hwa @hyukssunflower @aestheticsluut @neohyxn @mrowwww @darkdayelixer @itsokaytobedumb00 @hwa-sans @purplelady85 @seongfury @meginthebuilding27 @stopeatread @mothworked @foliea @euphoric-emily16 @teezers99 @mulletjoonsupremacy @imalildelulu @sunukissed @blehhhidk @ad0rechuu @brxken0rex @strawberry-moonpies @bluehwale-main @lightinythedark @stupefystudies @yandere-stories @skz-enthusiasttt @seongwin @huachengsbestie01 @galaxypox @moonminji @lilactangerine @lelaleleb ​​@asjkdk @honey-lemon-goose @stayteezdreams @diorwoo @yunho0o0o0o @majestickitty @shookykookie30 @0325tiny
500 notes · View notes