fic idea that isn’t fleshed out yet: reader is [character’s] favourite doll that they have displayed on the shelf. you come alive one day, and bada bing bada boom— the love of your life is forced to share his space with you, his new roommate who knows waaay too many personal things about him. // bubbly & semi-obsessive reader, forced roommate situation
I guess you can insert Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Armin, Zayne, etc (I might do separate one-shots for certain characters)
you’ve been watching him live his life for years now, sentient and silent and utterly, hopelessly in love with your human. one day, you turn into one of them— a real human! Autumn leaves are falling. He’s clad in a puffy coat, quickly shutting the door to the house, cutting off the gust of wind immediately. He turns around and absentmindedly walks into his bedroom before freezing in his tracks, taking in the sight of you sitting on their bed, dressed in the same exact outfit they’d seen on their precious ol’ doll everyday.
you read his expression instantly, effortlessly (a perk of having observed somebody for the past 1,123 days: every meal, every phone call, every 18 plus moment. it’s all been catalogued perfectly by none other than you!)— surprise, confusion, and a glimmer of both fear and intrigue— you can see those emotions shining in your human’s widened eyes.
“You—” he starts, his mouth hanging open in shock. his eyes dart up to the shelf, and his heart stops: the spot where his doll sat holds nothing but a few particles of dust now.
“Welcome home, my love!” you squeal, hopping off the bed and running towards him. you trip and fall before you can make it more than a meter— he’s across the room in a flash, his mind a storm of chaos as he finds himself kneeling down, checking where your legs hit the floor, asking if you’re okay. why was he helping you? who are you? you can’t possibly be — just where is his precious doll???
“I guess I’m still learning how to use these legs of mine, ohhh they’re so clunky!” you chirp. “but that’s okay, I’ll get the hang of it. and don’t you worry, I’ll also make sure I’m helping out around the house, since we’re going to be real roommates now!” you giggle.
it’s silent for a moment, and he can feel your all-too-human eyes burning a hole into his face. “your expression is one of bewilderment, and you’re noticeably less relaxed,” you note, as you place your hands over his. he stiffens. “but that’s okay. I’ll make sure we take care of everything so you’re A-OK soon again!”
watching the big bang theory and thinking thoughts.... lando moves in across the hall from oscar and logan...... raj is arthur and howard is robert...... theyre all scientists of some sorts..... lando is a photographer..... they need a photographer for some made up reason...... Lando needs help with his tv or his wifi but its all just reasons for oscar to come over..... oscar is stupid and think is crush is unrequited..... thinking thoughts.....
this fic is race/ hair type/ body type neutral; why does that matter? If you feel I’ve overlooked something in regard to this, no matter how “small”, please let me know!
@stealsteels threatened to BEAT ME UP (real) if I didn't post this so I'm doing it.
(…in all seriousness, thank you for all of your encouragement, it truly means the world ♡)
word count | 5.1k (woof)
warnings/ notes | 18+, fluff/ smut; clit rubbing/ fingering, spanking, vibrators, kink discovery/ exploration, trusting and communicating with your partner (hot), service top Adrian, masochistic reader/ sadistic Adrian if you squint. I don't write piv :)
as noted, this contains spanking. It is of course fully consensual, something reader explicitly asks for and (most importantly) NOT a punishment, but I realize it still isn’t everyone's thing, so please be mindful.
also this is incredibly self indulgent and tbh maybe a little out of character, and turned out a lot fluffier and domestic that I intended.
ao3
minors/ ageless blogs please respect my wishes and do not interact with my work/ blog. I will block you :)
You hear him before you see him. A double shift at Fennel Fields followed by hours of shooting a bunch of appliances in the woods with Chris and he still careens into your apartment with all the intensity and finesse of a hurricane. The endless amount of energy he seemed to have was sometimes baffling, and while it was usually fun to have your own personal Energizer bunny around (especially in bed), sometimes you really envied it.
You especially envy it on days like today when you felt like you could barely drag yourself through a comparatively low stakes and low effort day.
That feeling doesn’t last long though, because as soon as he toes his shoes off (a task that takes significantly longer than it should because he refuses to untie his laces, insisting that it’s faster even though it clearly isn’t) and rounds the corner into the kitchen, he shoots you his signature smile and you instantly feel that warmth you only seem to feel around him.
Shoes successfully removed, he ambles over to where you stand in front of the stove, fanning yourself as you lower the heat of the burner. Strong arms instinctively find their way around your waist and he nuzzles into your side, dropping tiny kisses to your cheek. Said kisses are, of course, mostly a means of distraction so that he can reach around you to grab the spoon you'd been stirring with and stick the entire thing in his mouth, but it’s still cute enough to earn him a few kisses in return.
You return to stirring (with a new spoon), humming your replies as he launches into his recap of the day’s events. The recaps are rarely linear (sometimes they're not even coherent), so by now you’re used to the way he flip flops between how crazy the recoil from Chris' Desert Eagle was (“I mean yeah okay, I shot it without his permission, but holy shit babe that thing is crazy! Maybe I should get one. I mean when you think about it it’s actually kind of weird that we don’t have matching guns. Do you think he would think that was weird? If I got the same gun as him?”), to how he’d broken a guy's kneecaps after he'd caught him pushing his girlfriend into a wall in a dark alley, to how some other guy had actually proposed at Fennel Fields (“but don’t worry babe, when I propose it’ll be somewhere way nicer. Like at least Olive Garden or better.”)
The last bit earns him an eye roll and a nudge to the ribs, but you still can’t help the grin that pulls at your lips.
With dinner done, he finally disentangles himself from you to grab the plates and silverware and plops down in front of the tv. Tonight you’re finishing up the latest season of Barry (a show he finds hilarious, more for the gore than the actual comedy), but the second you take your seat next to him his arms immediately find their way around your middle.
“You know you can’t eat if you’re holding me, right?” you question, arching an eyebrow at him.
Undeterred, he pulls you even tighter, insisting that he “totally can though!”
“I’ve mastered the art. See, look,” He demonstrates said “mastery” by pulling you into his chest and bringing his plate around so that it sits on his open palm in front of you. He grins down at you, hopeful you’ll just ignore the high likelihood of pasta sauce spilling down your front with one wrong move. You pat his cheek and shake your head no, moving to separate your bodies. He pouts, truly pouts at you and once again find yourself unable to hide your smile.
“Okay okay, what about if you lay down on my chest and I put my plate on your back?”
“Then how would I eat?”
He ponders this for a second until you see another lightbulb go off.
“Okay, what about you sit in my lap and hold your plate and I-”
“I swear, if you suggest putting your plate on my head...”
“You didn’t let me finish!”
Another skeptical look before you sigh and motion for him to finish.
“...But yes I was going to say that.”
The way he seems to so desperately want this to work is perhaps a little annoying, but mostly very cute and endearing. Another eye roll makes it clear that his request is out of the question, and he’ll, for the time being, have to settle for eating like a normal person.
You turn your attention back to the screen just in time to see a guy's brains splatter as he gets shot in the head point blank. Despite the fact that you know about Adrian’s propensity for violence, it still gets to you and you wince. He pulls you tightly into his side, rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder and you settle into his touch, muttering your thanks into his sweatshirt and pressing a grateful peck to his chin. You sigh contentedly and press your face into his side and your eyes drift closed as you inhale his scent.
A bark of laughter jolts you awake. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, but sure enough when you look up the credits are rolling. You yawn and stretch, craning your neck to look up at him and he seems to immediately sense your stare. He smiles that smile, the one that’s sweet like his normal one but also not, doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he’s thinking about something not so sweet, and the proof of what he exactly he's thinking is now pressing up against you. You turn to face him fully, taking in his lopsided smile and the slight splotchy blush creeping over his neck and plant a small teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Obviously this isn’t enough for him, and he leans over to gently grab the back of your neck and pulls you to him. The kiss is… kind of a lot, to be honest, but most things with Adrian are. Overeager as always he wastes no time licking along the seam of your mouth, asking for entry. You don't oblige him, not yet, opting to tease him instead as you nip his bottom lip.
You hug him closer, feeling the muscles in his back flex under your touch as he tilts your head to the side to suck at the skin of your neck. You move to straddle him but he's already getting impatient and makes a frustrated sound as he grips your thighs and pulls you the rest of the way into his lap. With you seated fully on top of him, he moves one hand to your hip to hold you solidly in place while the other snakes up under your shirt. Adrian is rarely smooth and tonight is no exception. His hands move over you as if he's unsure where to go or where to stop, touching you like it's the first time. They ghost over your stomach and up between your breasts before finally settling on your ass in a nice firm hold.
He finally frees your neck, laving sloppy kisses over your tender skin before pulling away completely. The momentary loss of contact is enough for you to come back to your senses and you push lightly against his chest.
“Hi.” Hi? You scoff at yourself. Great start.
You have no idea why you’re feeling so self-conscious all of a sudden, especially when he's looking at you like that.
The way he noticeably focuses when you have something to say, absorbing your every word is endearing but sometimes it also feels so intense. Especially now, when he’s sitting here, half hard underneath you, eyes growing wide and curious under his large frames.
You gather yourself and clear your throat.
“I uh, I actually wanted to talk about something. To ask you something, actually. I mean, we obviously don’t have to do it tonight, or do anything tonight. I mean I know you’ve had a really long day so I don’t want you to feel obligated to do it tonight, or at all even, if you don't want to. I don’t even know if it’s something you’d be interested in so, no pressure, obviously.”
You’re way too aware of the fact that you’re rambling, which is typically more of an Adrian thing than a you thing, but despite (or maybe because of) your awareness, you can’t seem to stop. The words just keep tumbling out, and now you’re getting flustered and a little bit annoyed with yourself, in large part because it's Adrian for Christ's sake. He's never judged you for your desires and you know it's not in his nature. Even now he just sits there, ignoring his own arousal, patiently waiting for you to get the words out, tracing comforting (albeit distracting) shapes against the tops of your thighs. In spite of all this you still struggle with simply just saying what you want– what you need. You take another breath.
"I want…"
You had what felt like the most supportive partner in the world, so why did this feel so fucking hard?
He nods, squeezing your sides, encouraging you to continue. “Tell me what you want. Tell me and I'll give it to you.”
"I, uh, I want you to spank me." You hold your breath, gauging his reaction carefully.
He immediately perks up at this and just like that, you’re at ease again. Not even a hint of the hesitation or confusion (or even worse, judgment or disgust) you’d dealt with the few times you’d brought it up with previous partners. Not even the well meaning (but kind of annoying) "I don't want to hurt you" you'd come to expect. Then again, this is Adrian, your Adrian, and now you’re wondering why you were even worried in the first place.
Then again, it wasn't like this was exactly a shocking revelation. Adrian already knew you liked some pain and he’d been more than happy to give you the occasional playful spank before, in and out of the bedroom. Even though what you're asking for now was much different, his reaction is a huge relief.
For his part, he sits there, fucking beaming at you. His eyes drift to your lips again, tongue sneaking out to lick his own as he leans in to nip at you this time. For a moment he lingers, like he can’t decide whether he wants to kiss you or move back down to your neck. He goes with the former, pulling you into a searing kiss. You don’t consider yourself the type to get easily flustered, but fuck if he isn’t literally taking your breath away right now. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, payback for earlier, and you gasp. His hand moves to cradle the back of your neck again, squeezing just the tiniest bit. You know he's barely using any of his strength and that knowledge makes you shudder.
“So, how do you want to do this?”
You laugh, “I um…” To be honest, you kind of hadn’t really put much thought into logistics and the kiss wasn't making it any easier to think.
You don’t have to flounder for too long though, because now that you’ve put the idea into his head, he’s running with it.
“Want me to bend you over the couch?”
Another thing most people don’t know about Adrian, and you’re thankful for this, is how… focused he can be. Especially when properly motivated.
“Or I could put you over my lap. Get you nice and relaxed and just… help get all the tension out. Would you like that? Hm?” Hia hands have drifted back to your ass and he pinches it now to emphasize his point, making you yelp.
You can tell how excited he’s getting both by the way he continues to ramble and by the way he’s started to absentmindedly rut up against you. You don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it because he’s still talking, seemingly completely unaware.
“Maybe we should get a paddle. I’d love to see your ass jiggle when I hit it with a paddle. Fuck, do you have one? Should we get one right now? Or a riding crop. Or- what are those things with all the tassels?”
“Adrian, do you really want to buy a flogger right now? Or do you want to take me to bed?"
“Right, right.” Without warning, he stands and you do your best to cling to him as he makes his way to your bedroom. From this position it’s harder to grind against him, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. You press your lips against the long column of his throat, moving up from his Adam’s apple to kiss behind his ear. You move back down and up again, repeating the action on the other side. He groans, deep and guttural and filthy, and you think it’s the loveliest sound you’ve ever heard.
“Stopstopstop, you’re distracting me!” He huffs, cutely, like he really has the audacity to be annoyed right now.
You grin into his neck, unable to stop yourself from softly nibbling his ear.
He places you down on the bed, crawling over you to kiss down your neck and you arch into him, hands sliding down his chest, toned muscles apparent despite the thick material of his sweatshirt, before reaching his waistband. You move to tug them down, desperate to feel him in your hands but he quickly grabs both your wrists and holds them above your head. He pulls back to look at you, smiling a very different smile now.
You try in vain to tug your wrists free, whining for him to let you go so you can touch him, but the look he fixes you with is enough to shut you up. Slowly, slowly he trails his free hand down your chest and slips it into your shorts, rubbing you over your panties.
You moan, clamping your thighs around his hand and grinding yourself into his touch, growing more and more desperate by the second. When he finally he relents and releases your hands you're panting, but you waste no time wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling your hands in his curls as he returns to your neck, kisses turning to bites.
He rucks your shirt all the way up and you lift so he can finish tugging it over your arms. You shiver, fully exposed to him now and he bends down to take one nipple in his mouth, alternating between gentle bites and sucks while circling the other with his thumb and you sigh dreamily, pushing up into his touch.
Your hand drifts back to the nape of his neck, absently dragging your nails up and down the back of his scalp, dark curls running through your fingers and he groans against your skin. You move for his pants again but he bites your nipple that much harder; a clear warning.
He releases your nipple and you think he's switching to the other one but he instead fixes you with another stern look. His voice is lower this time when he speaks.
“Are you gonna behave, or do I need to tie you up?”
You can’t help the shiver that runs through you, or the whimper that escapes your lips at his words.
As enticing as the offer is, you’re starting to get antsy. You nod your head and mutter your assent and he smirks, seemingly satisfied with your answer.
The look he gives you this time is much softer but it still makes your blood run hot, makes you feel like the electricity in your nerves is sparking just under your skin. You turn your head to the side and without missing a beat he grabs your chin lightly, guiding your gaze back to him.
Heat rushes up your neck to your cheeks, but you make yourself hold his gaze. His pupils are almost completely blown black now, cheeks ruddy and lips set in a firm line.
"I care about making you feel good.” The sincerity in his voice floods you with warmth.
“Are you gonna let me?”
You whimper, wishing he’d just go back to kissing you, but you know the question isn’t rhetorical.
“Yes, yes, please Adrian just- please”, you pant, stretching up, wordlessly begging him to kiss you again, to do something, but he doesn't relent. He just holds your gaze while you pout and squirm under him.
“Now, tell me what you want.”
You peer up at him, uncertain of what he means. “I told you, I want you-”
“No, tell me exactly what you want. Be specific. Do you… do you want me to punish you?” His voice quiets a bit at the end.
“No! No, I don’t. I don’t want it to be a punishment. I-I don’t know. I just… I do want it to hurt but... I more just want to not think, just for a while. Sorry, that’s not what you asked but-”
“No, no that’s good. That’s good.”
He finally lets go of your wrists and kneads the muscles in your shoulders. The warmth and pressure from his hands soothes your nerves and you sigh and smile up at him.
“Alright, get over my lap then.”
You scramble to obey, already dizzy with anticipation. You feel giddy with it, and despite your nerves you couldn't deny how badly you wanted this– wanted to feel his hands on you, wanted him to make you feel release only the way he could.
You splay yourself over his spread legs, head resting on the pillow you’d grabbed. Now that you’re unable to see what he’s doing, your mind starts to race. Your pulse quickens, and you start to get that familiar floaty feeling you get whenever he takes control and you get to let go.
He puts one hand on the small of your back and with the other he finally, mercifully, tugs at your waistband. You can feel just how hard he's gotten now as he presses into your hip, but he doesn’t move. Adrian isn't much for teasing but he makes no move to touch you, so you wiggle your hips in the hope that it’ll get him to do… something. He presses firmly on your lower back and you huff, but still yourself anyway. He slowly smooths over the muscles in your lower back, pressing deeper and deeper until you relax into his touch.
He moves lower, gripping the meat of your ass, kneading it softly, and you’re not sure if the gentle touches are genuine or if he’s trying to get you to let your guard down before he starts.
He unceremoniously spreads your legs, dipping his hand between your thighs before ghosting his fingers over your lips. He moves to circle your clit over your underwear and you moan into the pillow, bucking your hips back into his hand, searching for more of whatever he’s willing to give you.
You should’ve known better again, because as soon as you do, his hand comes down squarely against your ass. The pain isn’t so bad, but the sound is enough to make you jump.
"Oh." he says quietly, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "I see."
You're not sure exactly what he means by this but you don't have time to think about it too hard before he brings his hand down again, this time on the other cheek. He stops briefly and you move to turn and ask if that's all he intends to do, but you feel another stinging slap before you get the chance.
“You said you wanted it to hurt, right?” You mumble a "yes", high and breathy, into the pillow that’s smushed against your face.
"Then ask me nicely."
Fuck.
"Adrian, please, please, fucking- just - harder please."
The pace he sets now is unrelenting. You pretty quickly become aware of the fact that he's making sure there's no pattern for you to predict and the thought makes you even giddier.
One smack, and then another, the stinging pain hovering just on the edge of too much, dulling all of your other senses. You start to get that familiar hazy feeling, and you relax into it, welcome it, will it to take you over completely.
Left, left, left, right, left again, one sharp, followed by a few open handed ones to your thigh in quick succession. All the while he's rubbing small, tight circles against your clit with his other hand.
His fingers move to tease your entrance, rubbing small circles into you and like the slaps he's doling out they seem to have no predictable rhythm.
"I think… this is really unlocking something in me," he mutters, more to himself than to you.
You’d been so focused on what he was doing that you only now realize how embarrassingly loud your moans had been, but his comment draws something out of you. You’re whining and writhing against him, not even trying to look dignified at this point, the sensation verging on overwhelming but so so good.
Suddenly it’s gone, and you whine in protest. For a moment everything is still, and you realize for the first time how quickly your heart is beating.
“Still okay?”
You don’t think you can form words right now, but you groan an affirmative, hoping it gets your message across. Adrian gently tilts your chin so he can look into your eyes and confirm. “Yes?” he questions, and your heart warms at the way he asks, at the way he always wants to be certain. The way he's biting his lip also tells you you’re not the only one who's enjoying this.
You exhale sharply, forcing your brain and mouth to actually form words, making sure your "yes" is clear. He nods once in return and releases your chin, and you sigh as you sink into the pillow again. Once you're comfortable, he starts again.
"Good girl. Keep being good for me.”
The sharp stinging pain and the dull thudding of his open palm are starting to run together, all becoming one sensation. He grips the fat of your ass again with one hand, releases it and brings the other hand down. He repeats this a few more times; squeezing, releasing and then bringing his hand down quickly before the blood has the chance to rush back under your skin, gauging your reactions each time, cataloging every whimper, moan and twitch, every shudder, flinch and squeal and rewarding each in kind.
“You like that? You like it when I hurt you like this? You like my fingers rubbing your pretty little clit like this?”
With this he runs his fingers back through the slick between your legs, teasing a finger against your opening.
"Jesus, fuck, look at you. Is this all for me? Yeah? Answer me." You can’t help but whine at that, telling him "Yes, yes it's all for you, all for you Adrian!" hiccuping and helpless to do anything but feel him.
He continues, “I think I know what you want, but you know you have to use your words,” he chides. “Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, yes! Pleasepleaseplease” You’re nearly sobbing now, tears you hadn't even noticed before falling freely now.
“I think I have something you’ll like even better,” he says, and your heart leaps at the thought of what he could possibly have in mind. You move to turn to him, but a firm hand on your back keep you in place.
He draws his hand back and you brace yourself for the inevitable impact, but it doesn't come. You huff, knowing full well he's absolutely got the shittiest grin on his face but you refuse to turn around this time, refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing your annoyance. So the two of you just sit there, momentarily suspended, at the world’s tensest, horniest impasse. You, over his lap, your panties hanging off of your ankle, and him, with presumably one hand raised in the air and one tracing faint shapes into the skin of your inner thighs.
"You," he starts, taking a deliberate breathe like he's trying to compose himself, trying to stave off the arousal he's thus far been able to keep at bay. He’s still got his pants on, and the combination of that and you writhing and moaning on top of him is starting to become unbearable.
"You have no fucking idea what you do to me."
He sounds dangerous now, voice too measured and now the tension is really starting to get to you.
He’s moving on the bed, doing his best to not jostle you too much but you can still feel his hips and cock shift under you as he reaches over to the drawer on your side of the bed.
You hear him rifling through it, various objects clattering as he tosses them around. You use this time to ground yourself, taking a few deep breaths but they do little to stop the way your blood is still rushing under your skin. You have an idea of what he’s looking for, but you don’t dare turn around to confirm your suspicions.
Finally, the rustling stops and he chuckles triumphantly.
He’s quiet again. Suspiciously, unnervingly quiet. Adrian is so rarely quiet that when he is it's noticeable. He’s still lazily running his fingers between your thighs, purposefully avoiding your clit this time, despite the insistent roll of your hips. Like he’s got all the time in the fucking world.
You hear the telltale buzz of the Magic Wand behind you, but he doesn’t give you time to register it before he pushes the head right up against your clit. You cry out, the sensation immediately far too intense, but despite your struggle he continues to firmly hold you in place. You whine pathetically, the pressure and vibration too much too soon, and he eases up just a little so the vibrations are still strong, but not so overwhelming.
You keep squirming, you can’t help it, and he moves the toy from your clit. This time you chase it, now desperate for stimulation and he chuckles above you and spanks your ass again.
“Fuck!” You cry out, burying your face into the pillow again. You know how you probably look, completely fucked out, tears splilling freely from your eyes now as you sob ugly and way too loud sobs, but you can't think about that right now. You were close, so so close. You just needed that extra little push.
“You’re doing so well baby. Can you take a few more?” and he asks so sweetly you can't even think about saying no.
Adrian returns to rubbing the small of your back, his voice a little softer now. He knows the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, and he always knows how to get you over the edge.
You gasped an “uh-huh”, arching into his touch and this time he allows it and repositions the toy directly against your clit again. Despite his softer tone, his hand comes down again just as hard and unrelenting as before and you’re honestly glad he isn’t going softer now that he knows you’re close.
He turns the vibration up a little more and the extra stimulation is exactly what you need. You feel your body seize momentarily as you clench and shake and for a split second everything feels still before your orgasm crests and breaks over you.
You hold onto that feeling for as long as you can, letting the wave break and settle and feeling your brain go blissfully hazy.
You feel floaty, your body feeling absolutely spent, wrung out completely and everything in that moment feels so perfect.
Adrian slowly ghost gentle touches over your back and down over your ass and thighs. You feel something cool and sigh contentedly as he rubs lotion into your stinging flesh.
You work to steady your breathing, reveling in the feeling of his gentle touch and the sweet praises he mumbles.
He knows you sometimes get a little dizzy and fucked out after you cum, (loves it, really) so he waits for you to gather yourself. Once he finishes you roll onto your stomach.
You wouldn't blame him for being self satisfied or even cocky in this moment, but the smile he wears now is anything but. It's just warm and sweet, like him.
He grabs one of the small hand towels you keep in the bedside drawers and gently wipes you down, knowing how much you hate the feeling of sweat on your skin after and helps you pull a fresh pair of underwear and one of his oversized shirts on as you settle into his lap.
“Was it.. was it good for you? Was it too hard?” You hear the little bit of worry start to creep into his voice and you’re quick to reassure him.
“No, no not at all. It was perfect Adj. You know I would’ve stopped you if something was wrong.”
He visibly relaxes at this, and resumes running his fingers over your tender flesh, humming softly.
It’s quiet, and for a while the only sound you’re aware of is your breathing. When he speaks again, it’s like he’s already in the middle of a thought.
“But seriously. Whatever you need, you know I’m happy to do it for you. And you know how much I love taking care of you. I just always want to make sure I make you feel good, you know?”
You smile at his confession. “Yeah, I know. And thank you. Seriously."
You clear your throat. “It's just nice to have someone who cares, you know?”
He hums thoughtfully, still rubbing your skin gently.
"I know you care about me as a person, and I'm not saying you're the only one who does. I meant more, it's nice to have someone who cares about making me feel good. Not to say that other people were just using me for sex but… with you it's just,” you go quiet again. “It’s just different."
“So thank you. For… this. For not being weirded out by it, I mean. And for doing it, of course.”
You sit up so you can look him in the eye now and he pulls you into him fully, arms tight and secure. The last thing you're aware of before you drift off this time is his scent as he kisses your temple.
exes to lovers! isagi yoichi concept
please... let me know if this is something you want to keep reading
fem reader works as an aged care nurse, isagi is a professional athlete
this is the first scene of the fic, got no clue how long it'll eventually turn out to be but i do have a loose outline for it
Breakups are never easy - you know it all too well. You’re still recovering four months on after your own. It’s hard to wake in a bed that once held two, and now it's just you. In those early moments, where you’re drifting between the realms of unconsciousness and lucidity, he lingers like a mirage. You feel his fingers warmly brush against your cheek again. The gentle sound of his voice, asking how his pretty baby is doing flutters towards you. You reach for him, joy in your heart as your broken voice reveals all your secrets you’ve locked away.
“God, I missed you so fucking much. I love you, Yoichi.”
But he slips from your grasp like dust.
When you wake, you shake your head at your own yearning, a frown pinching your face.
What right do you have, you think, to crave him like this, when you were the one to end it?
So you wash away the traces of your weakness, and go about your day.
This is the routine you’ve been settled in since. Some days, you manage to convince yourself you’re over being emotional, like when you’re pushing the evening medication trolley through the halls of your work, and one of the elderly has their television playing the latest match and you see him again. Flashes of him in action, racing across the field with the determination of a tidal wave in motion. Or, if you're unlucky (lucky) an after-match interview that centres the camera completely on him. His satisfied, no, euphoric grin, the way his sweat sticks his fringe to his forehead and when he attempts to wipe it away, it causes said fringe to stand straight up. The flush of blood rising to his cheeks. It captures his every reaction, every miniscule change while he answers the same mind-numbing questions posed by the reporter about the game he'd just won.
You watch him for a moment, (your heart bleeds in your chest—) you shrug it off with a smile and tap the plastic portioning cup to draw attention to yourself. “It’s time for your meds.”
Behind the screen, he’s easy to pull away from. He can’t bring you into his arms, fit your frame against his and keep you there, like this.
You don’t reflect on the other days. The ones where you have to call in sick because the very thought of venturing out into the world, alone again, makes you feel nauseous. You resist the urge to check what he’s doing on social media then, afraid of what you might see. You wonder, if it's this bad for you, what must he be experiencing?
You’re an awful person.
But deep down, you know it still was the right choice to make. Even if your heart disagrees.
GODSLAYER: politics, a wip worldbuilding powerpoint
welcome to the world of my dark science fantasy wip, godslayer!! it is very much an unpolished idea-in-progress, so a lot of things are subject to change as i actually figure out the plot. it's all very vague at this point, but it's going to heavily feature lesbians, biblical angels, cosmic horror, enemies to lovers, and Space ;)
there's no official wip intro yet, but stick around for more to come!
✦ genre: friends to lovers au, college au, fluff, slight angst
✦ description: minho’s ideas were dangerous but of course, as his best friend, you went along with them all. this one, however, could be dangerous for you. specifically your heart
✦ pairings: lee minho x reader
✦ word count: 11.5k
✦ warnings: mild language, slightly suggestive at points
✦ a/n: i decided i wanted to get back into writing fics and here is my first fic in three years! i’m a little bit rusty but i hope you all like it ♡
i.
“Ta-da! All done.” You smiled, taking a step back to admire the work you’d done. Small picture frames littered the walls of your new bedroom, stereotypical fairy lights decorating the empty space around it. It wasn’t night just yet, but you were excited to be able to lay down and see a recreation of the night sky on your ceiling.
However, as soon as you stopped hanging everything up, a sharp pain shot through your back. A shockwave of small pricks traveling from your lower back to above your shoulder blades. Suddenly everything seemed too much, the pain making you lightheaded.
Turning on your heels, you slowly walked out to your living room, plopping down on the couch and bringing both of your hands to your back. As much as you tried to massage out the pain, there was only so much your own reach could do.
Great, first day of college and you get hurt, you thought.
Just as you were about to text your best friend, Minho, to see if he had gotten settled in, you heard a knock at your door. Before you could ask who it is, the person at the other side sighed, “Don’t keep me waiting all day!” Speak of the devil, you thought as you continued the assault on your taut muscles.
“Door’s open!” You shout, maybe too loud, at Minho, watching as he flung open the door and looked around the room, eyes settling on you wincing in pain.
“First of all, lock your door! You don’t know what kind of creep can just walk in.”
Before he could continue you interrupted, “Like you just did?”
Minho raised his eyebrows almost to his hairline, “You’re the one that let me in!” There’s a slight pause before he continued on, his face now shifted to one of concern, “What happened to you?”
Leaning back so your head rested on the wall behind you, you groaned again, “I was hanging up picture frames in my bedroom and I must have pulled a muscle.” You winced as you sat up, hands continuing to massage your lower back. “Or multiple muscles.”
Sitting up caused you to get a full look at what Minho was wearing. A pair of black basketball shorts along with an old Metallica shirt that was a little too big on him settled on his frame. It was big enough to dip down in the front, showing his collarbones and the silver chain necklace that always hung around his neck. You knew these were his relaxed, “i-look-bad-but-i-don't-care” clothes, but why did he look so good?!
You found yourself staring at him and you tried to shake off the thoughts of finding your best friend that attractive but no one could deny that Lee Minho had always been one of the most attractive guys in your class.
Said man seemed to notice your eyes glazed over, because he suddenly appeared right in front of you, hand waving furiously across your face, “Hello? Earth to Y/N? Anyone in there?” He raised a hand, presumably to hit you on the head, but then quickly retracted it.
“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry I was just thinking about classes starting tomorrow.” You chuckled, wincing slightly as a shock ran up your back. Surely these thoughts would pass, they always did.
Minho moved around to sit next to you, smiling as he bounced up and down on your couch. “I’m so excited! My first class is choreography 101 and I heard the instructor made dances for all the big pop stars!” He leaned into you, looking up at the empty space. “Think of it. Taylor Swift, Harry Styles, Beyonce, I could be one of those people to make dances for them!” His arms outstretched before he whipped around to face you.
Suddenly you realized just how close you were, and you’ve been this close before but now you focused on how his eyes sparkled when he talked about the one thing he loved. You shook those thoughts away, seeing his bright smile and immediately countering with your own.
“That sounds great, Min! I’m sure you’ll be one of the best choreographers in the world.” Again, you shook off the intense beating of your heart and forced yourself not to let your eyes wander down to Minho’s lips. No matter how much it tempted you, you would resist.
“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend, you're required to say it.” He nudged your side, standing up and looking around once. “Your dorm is actually really cool, and you're lucky you don’t have a roommate.” Pausing, he looked at you, wiggling his eyebrows in a very mischievous and very Minho-like way. “You can bring guys over and not worry about thin walls.”
He knew you had never dated anyone before, much less had to worry about ‘thin walls’, yet he always used it tease you lightly. You had thought about dating before, but as you always countered back at him, you weren’t sure how it was supposed to work. Sure, people meet and they get together, but what happens after that? It was like some sort of mystery that you were way too skeptical to jump into.
“Maybe you’ll meet someone in your geeky science classes! You know, a cute chemist that can woo you with a love potion.” Minho waved his hand around as if he was holding a wand.
You rolled your eyes as his suggestion, yet the idea didn’t seem that bad. Maybe you could get your mind off of your newfound feelings for Minho (that were probably always there yet you refused to believe) and score yourself your first relationship.
“I guess that doesn’t sound that bad.” You said, standing up from the couch and stretching. The pain in your back had diminished somewhat, and you found yourself feeling somewhat liberated from the worries of freshman year.
“What are your classes tomorrow?” Minho backed up into the doorframe, waving hello to some of the people passing by.
“Uh, Chemistry Lab and English Lit.” You replied.
“Are we still going to have our monthly movie nights?” His voice sounded hopeful and you smiled gently at him.
You walked up to him in the doorway, reaching one hand up and ruffling his already tousled hair. “Of course, Min. You’re only a building away now so we can watch even more movies.”
“Awesome, I can’t wait.” Minho leaned forward, moving one hand from the doorframe and resting his hand on your head, repeating the same motion you did to him.
He ran away laughing before you could do anything about it, but you got one good, “asshole!” in before he rounded the corner, out of your sight and hopefully out of your mind.
ii.
Walking into your first class of your new college life was nerve wracking, to say the least, and you hadn’t started off the day too well either. First, you woke up to a loud argument from the room next to you. It’s the first day and there’s already yelling?! Then, you almost forgot your student ID, effectively locking you out of the classroom buildings. And finally, the icing on the cake, you almost burst into a class in the middle of a test because you thought it was yours and you knew you would be dreaming about that horrifically embarrassing moment for years to come.
Luckily, none of that happened, and you passed through your English Lit class with just a large book and thick packet the teacher deemed as the syllabus. Next was Chemistry and as you looked around the room, there were only two empty seats. One of them being right in front of the teacher’s desk and the other being next to a guy already messing with the beakers sat in front of each table. Since it was your very first day of class, you decided against sitting right in front of the teacher, opting to slowly approach the man that was really engrossed in whatever he was doing.
“Hello?” You asked, speaking loud enough to be heard amongst the pre-class chatter throughout the room. “Can I sit here?”
When he turned around, you took notice of his soft brown eyes. He seemed surprised, mouth hung open as he looked to the beaker in his hand and then at the empty seat next to you.
“Oh, yeah! Of course.” He answered, sliding over slightly to make room for you. “My name is Chan.”
“Nice to meet you, my name is Y/N.” You took out a pen, eyes drifting to his hands holding the beaker. Chan went back to looking at it suspiciously, eyebrows furrowed in a tight line. “Um, can I ask what you’re doing?” You asked. You didn’t know where this confidence came from, you would normally never interact with classmates unless instructed to, but you already found yourself somewhat comfortable around Chan.
He chuckled, and your eyes were drawn to his big smile and the one dimple poking at his right cheek. “I was just checking to make sure there wasn’t any extra residue from past classes left in here. I wouldn’t want any extra cesium or germane left in here and then we all go boom!”
You were impressed by his knowledge, nodding your head and waiting for class to start. Tapping your pen, you looked around at the other students. They all seemed engulfed in the beakers in front of them. Some turned on the burners while others went to the front where small bags were arranged in groups.
“Are we supposed to be starting an experiment?” You looked around the room again, and then to the paper at the front of your desk. Picking it up, you noticed Chan coming closer to you, head peering over at the paper.
“Pick up the bags of chemicals on the table up front.” Chan read aloud, “Then test each chemical, recording your findings on each one. This assignment is a team assignment. Work with your partner next to you. Good luck!”
Immediately he went to grab the bags and you couldn’t help but look him up and down. His shoulders were very wide, the hint of two earrings poking out from behind his curly hair and there were three rings all on his right hand. You weren’t sure why you were checking him out this much, but he held a dorky and interesting aura that made you want to find out more.
As he was walking back, he held up the bags, all with various different colors, and said in an all too cheery but very sweet voice, “Ready to do this, partner?”
You mimicked his smile, “Let’s go, partner.”
iii.
After your second chemistry class, Chan had asked for your number and feeling that this was an opportunity to try and banish your feelings for Minho and possibly get yourself your first boyfriend, you agreed. Honestly you weren’t sure if Chan thought of you in the same way, but the image of his smile clouded your judgement so you agreed.
For the past two days you had been texting him and asking about the countless textbook pages that you were assigned as homework. Of course no one in the class wanted to do them, but you figured having someone to motivate you by saying he’s already finished the pages could be of some help.
Now it was Saturday and you could feel the relaxation taking over as you got back from the library, checking out books on the various chemical reactions that water could have to prepare for a quiz next week. As soon as you walked through your door you ran into your room, changing into a soft baggy shirt and shorts. The weather hadn’t changed from warm to cold yet, so you knew you had a few more weeks until you could dodge shaving for a day or two in favor of wearing jeans.
You’re snapped back to reality as you heard someone knock on the door, immediately remembering that this was your monthly movie night with Minho. You two had been doing this since the beginning of high school and very rarely had you missed a month, and those had been because of severe stomach flu and a date Minho had that he swore he couldn’t pass up even though they broke up two weeks later.
You ran to the door after the knocking turned into more of a drum beat. “Okay, okay I’m coming. Calm your ass.”
“I wasn’t the one that said 5 PM on the dot. You’re the one that’s late.” Minho walked through the door with a stack of movies in his arms and all of a sudden you were reminded of your annoying feelings for this man.
“I figured we could start with one or two and if it’s too late we could hit the hay and leave the rest here for next month.” He turned around and you noticed the small dark bags under his eyes. You hadn’t texted him much if at all this week, too focused on the start of all your classes this semester but you knew he must be exhausted from all the dance classes he took. It was his major but there was only so much your legs could move before they gave out.
“You look tired.” You remarked, walking over to the couch and motioning for him to sit next to you.
He obliged, sitting down with a thump and resting his head just as you had done the weekend before. “I practiced late last night finishing this short dance piece for class. It’s nothing,” Minho picked his head up and shot you a smile, “I’ll be fine.”
You eyed him suspiciously, not fully believing him, but instead nodding. “Okay.” Then you turned your head to the stack of movies, flipping through them and settling on a scary one you didn’t think you had seen before. “I haven’t seen this one, have you?” Minho shook his head. “Great, let’s start.”
You stood up to put the movie in the DVD player before settling back onto the couch in the most comfortable position. Your feet were resting in Minho’s lap, his hands softly tapping a beat onto your shins. You noticed he was wearing a similar outfit to the last time you saw him, this time with a brightly tie dyed Nirvana shirt.
Before your mind could wander, you heard the loud screams from the screen and you snapped your attention back to the movie. You didn’t want to think about how much you wanted to be wrapped in his arms or how much you craved his fingers dancing down your arms or face before he kissed you. You didn’t want to think about it, so you forced yourself to watch the already cheesy thrasher movie playing in front of you.
You noticed Minho’s hands would squeeze your leg when a jumpscare popped up, the slight pressure causing you to look up at him. His eyes were squinted, lips set in a straight line as he cocked his head to the side. It seemed he thought this movie was bad, and you definitely couldn't disagree with that sentiment.
Suddenly Minho leaned forward and paused the movie, hand flinging up towards the screen. “Look at that! This relationship is not realistic.” You shrugged, not knowing exactly what a realistic relationship would look like, yet letting him go on. “It’s so obvious that the guy is gonna die and she’s going to be the only one left at the end.” Something close to a scowl crept up on his face.
“I agree this movie is trash, but I want to see the end.” You sat up and shrugged again. “Besides, I don’t know what a realistic relationship looks like so I thought they looked cute.” You chuckled, turning around when you heard your phone beep.
It was Chan, texting you a joke about the chemicals you were learning about and you found yourself laughing softly at it. Minho leaned forward, peering over your shoulder, a sound of surprise coming from him as he sat back, “Did you find someone? He better be good if he’s interrupting our monthly movie night.” His voice sounded hopeful, yet you thought there was a hint of disappointment. Maybe that was just your own brain hoping, so you brushed past it.
“I don’t know, maybe? His name is Chan and he’s my lab partner for chemistry.” You looked up from your phone, a small frown on your face. “You know I’m not good with relationships, Min. I’m worried I’ll mess something up.”
Minho nodded along, one side of his mouth tilted up as if he was deep in thought. “I have an idea.” He finally spit out after sitting there for a minute.
Normally when Minho said he had an idea, you were terrified, to say the least, since those ideas usually consisted of something dangerous or potentially trouble-causing. But of course, you were his best friend, so you almost always went along with whatever plan he had. You signaled for him to say it, but you were not expecting what came out of his mouth.
“Well, you’ve never been in a relationship. And I don’t want inexperience to get in between you and a good guy, so why don’t I show you how you should be treated in a relationship?” His tone was nonchalant but you saw a nervousness behind his eyes. And at that moment you knew that this idea of his was dangerous. It was dangerous for your heart.
Yet you still nodded. What could go wrong? You thought as you clarified, “so you mean like pretending to date?”
Minho shrugged, “I guess? I didn’t think past this point.” He sat up, grabbing both of your hands. He was warm, and the thought of those hands cupping your face made your heart speed up. “I want you to have some experience before you find someone. I don’t want you to be an awkward mess.” He chuckled and you found yourself relaxing and laughing back. “I just thought we could do some couple things, I could show you the ropes, and when you feel like you're ready, you can go after this Chan guy with all the knowledge you gained from me. It’s like best friends with romantic benefits.”
The thought of experiencing anything close to romantic with Minho made your heart almost explode out of your chest, yet you thought that maybe if you did this it would somehow satisfy your feelings for him and you could move on.
So you nodded again. “Sure,” you said, smiling, “let’s do it.”
“Cool. Now come here.” Minho sat back, motioning for you to come closer so you did. Your knees moved against the plush couch and as soon as you were close enough, Minho’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. You let out a soft sound of surprise as your head was met with his chest.
You had cuddled with Minho before, after a sad movie when you just needed a shoulder to cry on, after getting accepted to college and you fell asleep on him that night talking about how excited you were to be going to the same school.
But this was different. This was Minho moving one hand to start the movie again. This was Minho resting one hand on your arm, fingers going back to tapping a soft rhythm. This was Minho and his scent invading your nose. This was your best friend softly holding you as you relaxed into his touch.
“I know it’s trash but how about we have a bad movie night?” He didn’t need to raise his voice much, your ear pressed against his chest. You could practically hear the rumble in his chest as he spoke. You had expected it to become awkward, but after a breath, you relaxed into his arms, one of your own hesitantly resting on his stomach.
“Is this right?” You asked, wanting to get as much information as you could. If this was supposed to be a learning experience you were going to make the most of it.
Minho chuckled and you felt the vibrations through your whole body. “Yea, that’s good, but you can move your head to wherever you feel comfortable.”
Your back was starting to ache from this position, so you listened to Minho’s words, adjusting yourself so that your forehead was against his neck. Your hand that was previously on his stomach went to wrap around his torso.
On an instinct that only comes with a lot of experience, Minho’s hand went to your back, his palm moving slowly up and down your spine. You felt a shiver run through you which made no sense because Minho was really warm and that warmth spread from head to toe.
You thought about just how many people Minho had done this with. You knew just how many significant others he’d had, and the thought of anyone else doing this with him stung just a little bit.
It also stung to know that eventually you would go back to best friends and he would likely forget this ever happened. As much as you wanted to push back the feelings, you felt a small spark in your stomach and you knew if you let this go on for a while it would only cause you pain.
Minho must have sensed your tense shoulders because the hand that was on your back moved to your hair. His fingertips danced across your scalp. “You okay Y/N?” His voice was soft, head tilting down and you could feel his lips inches away from your forehead. The way he said your voice could only be described as delicate. It was a soft whisper said into thin air and if you hadn’t been pressed right up against him you were sure you wouldn't have heard it.
“Yeah, I’m okay, just cold.” Your voice mimicked his own, your breath fanning out against his shirt. Though you knew it would hurt, you decided that you would throw caution into the wind and just enjoy the now.
As you continued on with the movie, you took notice of Minho’s hand. One rested on the side of the couch, ready to turn off the movie if it got too bad, while the other alternated from resting on your arm to rubbing soothing circles into your back.
Everything overwhelmed your senses. His hand felt soft on your back, touching you as if you were porcelain. His shirt smelled of laundry detergent but with your nose pressed into his neck you caught a scent that was obviously very Minho. You couldn’t put your finger on it particularly, but it was a smell that you didn't think you could ever identify except by one name, Minho. His heart thumped against your ear, and it reminded you of just how real this was and how his heartbeat was oddly fast.
A sense of comfort washed over you, and you realized you were subconsciously drawing circles into Minho’s stomach with your right hand. His shirt was soft and you had the overwhelming urge to slip under his shirt and find out if his skin was just as plush.
Suddenly all of the exhaustion you had pushed off from the week caught up to you. Your eyelids drooped down halfway, and you felt Minho move his head, peering down at you. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.” He chuckled.
He had called you countless nicknames before, some jokingly vulgar and others only someone who you were close with could use, but sweetheart was different. It made you smile and oblige his words, letting yourself fall into a slumber with a smile stuck on your face.
iv.
A soft swaying woke you from your dream. You hadn’t even remembered exactly what the dream was about, but you knew that Minho was there and you thought it must have been a good thing you didn’t remember.
Air sweeped below you and you realized that you weren’t standing nor sitting, you were being carried, albeit very carefully. You felt the tentative steps of the person carrying you and you could only assume it was Minho.
His arms were holding you gently, so much so that you could barely feel his fingers touching your shoulders and legs. You knew he was strong, but he moved with such light steps that it seemed as though he had no trouble in transporting you to your bedroom.
It was only another moment before you felt your body on the mattress and you decided to act as if you were still sleeping. You let your body naturally curl onto your side and it was then you remembered that it was probably late. You weren’t sure how long you slept but it was still too late for Minho to walk to his dorm.
You thought about waking up and asking him if he wanted to sleep on the couch or with you, but you were stopped by the feeling of a warm body pulling you softly against him. When your back hit something hard, you almost gave yourself away, gasping as an arm settled onto your waist.
This wasn’t the first time you found yourself in this position with Minho. Hell, you had known each other for nearly 10 years of your life, there wasn’t much you had kept private from Minho and vice versa. But this part, this vulnerable and far too touch deprived side of you, had never been shown to anyone and it was terrifying.
The tendrils of sleep were just about to overcome you when you remembered something that made your stomach flip and your heart start racing. Minho didn’t know you were awake. Why would he do these things if he knew you wouldn’t know?
Surely it was for when you woke up. Surely it wasn’t your mind running a mile a minute. You couldn't help but hold a small bit of hope, however, as you finally drifted off into sleep.
v.
It had been three days since your agreement with Minho and you were met with radio silence. It’s not like you’re dating you thought to yourself as you walked back to your dorm from your final lecture of the day.
However as soon as you set your books down, your phone rang, the familiar contact name of ‘my favorite asshole’ popping up on the screen. It had been Minho who had changed his contact name, claiming it was “way too basic for your best friend.”
“Hey, what’s up?” You tried not to sound too upset at the lack of communication but you knew Minho like the back of your hand and you also knew that Minho knew you like the back of his hand.
“Practicing for an exam coming up next week.” His voice echoed and you were about to try and distract him with questions but he beat you to it. “Are you okay? You sound weird.”
“I’m just tired as fuck. Two tests and a lab experiment has been kicking my ass.” You replied and you weren’t lying, your back was starting to ache again from the constant moving around in Chemistry and you could feel a headache coming on.
There was a pause on the other line as Minho seemed to contemplate something. “Do you just wanna rest then?”
“I don’t know, I have some homework I should finish before I even think about a nap.” As soon as you replied, you followed up with a very curious, “Why? What’s up?”
Minho’s voice quieted for the moment, like someone was next to him and he didn’t want them to hear what he was saying. “I was just wondering if you wanted to come over and watch me practice. It’s been a while since we hung out and I miss my best friend.” There it was, best friend. It's exactly what you were, except you couldn’t help but feel a small pang in your chest. His voice dropped even quieter this time. “But you have to be sneaky, my dance teacher is strict about not letting dance students in the practice rooms.”
“Yea, sure. That sounds fun.” You grabbed your books, thinking you could get some work in. “I miss my best friend too.” You smiled. “Even if you’re an asshole sometimes.”
The giggle on the other side of the phone caused you to feel that warmth that you did three days ago. “But I’m you’re favorite asshole.” Minho countered.
He hung up before you could reply, so you gathered your things and headed to the dance studio.
The walk to the studio didn’t take long, in fact it was only two buildings over, so you got there rather quickly. After texting Minho you were there, you heard the door unlock and a fluffy haired Minho poke his head out.
“Come on in.” He held the door open for you, the hand that wasn’t gripped onto the door coming to rest on your lower back. It was surprising but you willed yourself not to get too taken aback. This was all part of the agreement.
It felt nice to be treated like that, however. How am I gonna find someone like Minho after this deal is over? You thought to yourself as said man steered you towards his practice room. The hand on your back was light but you definitely felt his presence there. His voice could be heard over the multitude of ‘what if’s flying around your head, but you had no idea what he was saying.
“You’re not listening to me.” He chuckled and opened the door for you, stepping in behind you while you looked around. The floor was shiny, all leading up to mirrors on three of the walls. It was weird seeing yourself from all different angles and you had to admit you looked tired.
“To be fair I never listen to you.” You countered against him, a smirk playing on your face as you walked towards the middle of the room. Your appearance stuck out in each of the mirror walls you looked at. There were deep bags under your eyes and you noticed a sense of fatigue hiding behind them.
“I look like shit.” You laughed, but you weren’t joking. Classes were draining and you could barely recognize yourself in the mirror.
“You look fine, sweetheart.” Minho laughed breathy and exhausted.
You saw Minho in the mirror walk up behind you, his hands rested on your shoulders. Instead of looking him in the eyes through the mirror, you opted to stare at his hands. His fingers dug into your shoulders, thumbs pressing just between your shoulder blades and an immense feeling of relief shot through you.
“Does that help?” He asked, fingers working deeper into your muscles.
It was as if all the stress and fatigue was slowly being lifted off of you as Minho’s hands worked magic. Instead of answering his question, you let out a soft sign followed by a groan, hoping that was an acceptable answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Minho laughed and continued like that for a minute. Small groans and sighs of relief were the only thing echoing off the walls. Although it had been more than a minute, it felt like just one second as he slowly stopped massaging you. “I don’t want to overdo it. You should sit down.” He motioned over to the bench in the corner.
As you walked over you took out your Chemistry textbook, “I’m gonna just get some reading done if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. Just having you here makes me feel better.” Minho smiled at you through the mirror. “I hope the music won’t distract you though.”
You shook your head, smiling back at the man in front of you. “No, I should be fine. Go ahead and practice.”
As soon as he turned to the audio machine, busy looking through the computer to find the song, you observed his outfit. He was wearing the baggy black sweatpants tucked into sneakers. Then you noticed his shirt. He was wearing a tank top, the straps resting on his shoulders but were so thin they threatened to slip off.
Music blasted through the studio and you recognized the smooth beats that washed over you. Soft drums hit your ears and you couldn't help but nod your head along as you read your textbook. It was only ten more pages you had to read and then you could curl up in bed and sleep.
You tried to finish reading the page on various chemical reactions but your temptation got the better of you and snuck a glance up at Minho and wow. The dance seemed to edge on the sensual side and you were surprised they weren’t assigned a partner for this. His hips rocked perfectly to the rhythm and you didn’t dare look at his eyes. You had seen him dance before and the look in his eyes when he danced could make any person melt from the sheer passion and determination.
You weren't sure exactly when he had gotten so muscular but you assumed him dedicating his life to dancing helped build them. He wasn’t ripped, per say, but he had just the right amount of muscle to prevent you from teasing him with string bean comments. Not to mention his thighs. The majority of his power resided in his thighs and you knew if you kept thinking about him you would dig yourself a deeper hole.
Somewhere in the trenches of you damn near drooling over Minho, you were startled by the door to the practice room being flung open. A woman dressed in workout shorts and a baggy crop top walks in, eyes following Minho’s movements before landing on you sitting in the far corner of the room.
“I thought I told you only dance students in this building.” The woman raised her voice over the music before finally going and turning it off. “Who is this?” She pointed towards you and you ducked your eyes down in embarrassment.
Minho paused for a moment, thinking of what to say before he finally blurts out, “They’re my significant other.” If you had been eating or drinking anything you’re sure you would have choked, but you tried to keep your composure as he continued, “They were going to work on homework but the library was closed and I offered to let them work here. I’m sorry Mrs. Lee.”
The dance teacher looked between you and Minho, and you decided to try and help the situation. “I’m so sorry. Don’t blame Minho, blame me. I wanted to spend some time with him but we were both busy with homework and I figured this would work. Again, I’m sorry. I won’t come back.” Your voice remained steady as you tried to play into the perception that you and Minho were actually dating. Although with the feelings blooming in you recently it wasn’t hard to act as though you wanted to spend time with him.
A loud sigh escaped her, her face softening slightly. “Ah, young love. I was there once.” You felt your face heat up. “Minho,” she directed her attention towards him, leaving you to observe, “You’re one of the best students in this class. Perhaps I can let this pass, as long as your choreography assignment is up to my expectations.”
“It is!” You smiled up at Mrs. Lee. “I haven’t seen it all but he’s one of the best dancers I know and you won’t be disappointed.”
She nodded curtly, turning around on her heels and making a swift exit.
As soon as she left, you felt Minho’s eyes on you. You avoided it for as long as you could before you heard Minho say your name. “Yeah?” You replied, looking up at him.
“I hope you're okay with me saying that to Mrs. Lee. If you want I can go tell her we aren’t-”
“No!” You cut him off maybe too quickly. “I mean, I don’t mind it. It’s helping me get experience isn’t it? Being introduced as someone’s significant other.” You didn’t add how much hearing it come from Minho’s mouth made a million sparklers go off in your stomach, nor did you add that now you’ve heard him say it, you never wanted him to stop saying it.
“Okay.” Was all Minho said before motioning towards the computer, the song he was dancing too that was paused by Mrs. Lee waiting to be started again. “I’m gonna practice again.”
You nodded. “Of course. I’m going to try and finish this chapter and then I might head home and hit the hay early.” As you looked into his eyes, you saw the deep bags that mirrored your own. “You should get some sleep too, Min. You look exhausted.”
Minho hesitated, shrugging his shoulders slowly. You could almost see his muscles working overtime just to keep him upright. “I should be fine, sweetheart. Don't worry about me.” He turned around so you could no longer see his face, not even in the mirror in front of you. “Maybe you should just head out and get some sleep. I don't want you to fall asleep in Chemistry tomorrow.”
Confusion flashed across your features as you stood up. You put your textbook in your bag, walking up to Minho and resting your hand on his shoulder. “No.” You spoke sternly, set on making him listen to you. “I refuse to leave unless you’re leaving with me. I don’t like seeing you like this, Min. It hurts me as much as it hurts you.”
Minho knew you like the back of his hand, and he knew you were firm in your statement. You really wouldn't leave until he did. A long sigh escaped his lips, air cascading into the already stuffy dance room.
Instinctively, your other hand raised to his other shoulder, pulling him closer to you. Minho’s muscles relaxed as he loosely wrapped his arms around your waist. His thumbs pressed lightly into your spine and that familiar wave of electricity surged from your head to your toes.
Hot breath fanned across your neck as Minho nuzzled his head there. It was weird having someone that close to you and it reminded you of just how vulnerable you were. You ran your fingers around his neck to the nape of his head, playing with the small hairs that tickled you.
Sure, you had hugged Minho before, but nothing like this. This was holding someone in one of their darkest moments. This was fearing to speak in fear of reality coming crashing back to you. This was letting your existence speak for itself. This was your soul latching itself onto Minho’s. This was the moment you finally had to admit to yourself.
I am hopelessly and madly in love with you, Lee Minho.
After what felt like an eternity you separated yourself from him, but only enough to be able to see his face. “How about we go back to my room and sleep?” You weren’t sure what prompted you to ask that, but right now you didn’t want to be alone.
The corners of Minho’s mouth drooped as he nodded his head yes. In the span of ten minutes he had lost all his energy and you could tell he had been living off energy drinks and coffee. You knew it was hard for you, but you couldn’t imagine what it was like for Minho. Classes where you danced for an hour straight with no breaks, countless hours in the practice rooms forcing your limbs to move in this exact pattern or your whole assignment was ruined. You hated seeing him like this and hoped he would be better at taking care of himself eventually.
“Good. You can worry about your assignment tomorrow, but you need sleep, Min.” You smoothed one side of his messy hair down, heart clenching when Minho leans his head into your hand.
“Okay. Let’s go.” Minho trudged over to the computer, turning it off and unplugging his phone from the USB port. He grabbed his bag off the floor and looked to you sleepily. A hand was extended towards you and you had held hands with Minho before, but this, as did everything else that had happened recently, made you even more vulnerable.
Yet you reached out, your palm meeting Minho’s and your fingers locking together like a zipper. You hadn’t thought about just how well your hands fit with his until a silence washed over you and you were left to your own devices. Maybe your hands were always meant to find each other. Maybe this was fate saying that if the pieces fit together, it was meant to be.
The walk to your room was shrouded in silence, but you couldn’t say that you minded it. There wasn't always a need for words between you and Minho. It was like your minds connected in a way that you've never experienced with anyone else. You always joked you should never play poker together because you could tell when he was lying.
Minho held you close, except when you walked up to your dorm building, when he detached your hand from his and moved to open the door for you. Even now he was treating you like royalty. A small “thank you” left your lips as you entered the chilly front room.
You waited for Minho to walk through the door before you silently grasped his hand again, leading him towards the elevator doors. The woman at the desk watched you two, “You are just the cutest couple!” She whispered to you.
The pang in your chest was back, but you put on a smile and replied. “Thank you so much.”
In the elevator, Minho leaned more into your side. His eyes were open, but you knew he wasn’t fully coherent. He looked drained of all energy and you were scared that you might have to carry him to your room.
“Just a little bit more Min and you can sleep.” You ran your thumb over his hand lightly, smiling when Minho just tightened the grip he had.
As soon as you were in front of your room, you used the hand that wasn’t interlocked with Minho’s to get your keys out of your pocket, unlocking the door and stepping inside. You locked the door behind you, setting the keys on the table next to the door and throwing your bag in front of the couch.
You pried your hand from Minho’s only to be met with a sound of disapproval. Pulling the bag off of Minho’s shoulder, you gave him his wish and reconnected your hands, leading him to your room.
It was dark outside, so you turned on the lamp beside your bed, watching as Minho stripped himself of his shirt and looked up at you from beneath his eyelashes. “Did you happen to save any of the clothes I've left at your house back home?”
Digging through your drawer, you're met with a sound of surprise because you knew you kept some of the clothes he’s left over the years, but you didn’t know you had packed them and brought them here when you came to college. You pulled out a pair of shorts that looked like his, holding them up, “Are these okay?”
Minho nods, grabbing the shorts and walking over to the other side of the bed. He doesn't bother telling you to turn around, you're best friends, you've almost seen worse from him.
You didn't think anything of it when he immediately striped himself of his sweatpants, quickly slipping on the pants that were a little bit loose but you knew he was going to fall asleep in a snap so you didn't say anything. You also didn't think anything of it when you pulled out sleep clothes for yourself and began to strip as well. The air conditioning in your room was on full blast and you shivered slightly at the cold air against your skin. You could feel the goosebumps on your skin as you pulled your shirt and pants on, turning around to face the bed once more.
The covers were already pulled back and Minho was sitting up in your bed. His hands were resting on his stomach, fingers interlaced and thumbs tapping another rhythm. He always had that habit, always getting yelled at by teachers for tapping on the desks during tests, always having music in his head that no one else could hear.
You took a moment to admire him before smiling at him, Minho immediately mirroring that smile back to you. He opened his arms, waving both of them as if to beckon you towards him. And it always worked, you knew it would always work because you couldn’t just say no to his tired face and hopeful grin.
Climbing into bed, you moved closer to Minho, hands instinctively going around his waist. It was as if whatever deity was up above heard your thoughts, because now there was no fabric barrier between you and Minho’s torso. Your thumb pressed lightly into his side, massaging circles into whatever skin you could reach.
One of Minho’s hands went to your back and the other one rested on your arm. Sleep immediately started to creep up on you but you snapped out of it when you heard Minho utter a soft apology to you.
You sat up, body feeling cold after moving away from him. “What are you sorry for?” You asked, one of your hands not moving from rubbing circles into his side.
There was a heavy silence in the room and you were scared of what would come next. What if he wants to stop this, whatever this is. What if something is wrong?
“I’m sorry I haven't been able to treat you how you should be treated, I just wanted to show you what it was like to be treated right.” Minho’s eyes bore into your own and although you saw fatigue, you also saw a sense of sadness.
“Don’t apologize, Min. Everything you do tells me how I should be treated. You don’t have to be there for me 24/7 for me to know you are an amazing person.” You leaned forward, moving your hands to cup his cheeks. They were cold and you felt goosebumps rise on your arms. Your thumbs moved across his cheekbones and you watched as Minho closed his eyes. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as their boyfriend.”
You pulled the covers up, grabbing Minho by the shoulders and urging him to move down. “I know that once you get some sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning, okay?” You didn’t wait for him to confirm your statement and that was the last you saw of his face, because you opted for cuddling closer to him. The hand that was previously on his waist returned, your head finding purchase as it did before.
Your nose pressed into the junction of his shoulder and neck, the scent that could only be described by the name Minho much stronger now that there wasn’t any fabric in the way. “I like you just the way you are. And what you are is the best best friend I could ever ask for.”
The last thing you remember before sleep overcame you was a soft pressure on your forehead in what you could only guess was Minho’s lips, followed by him whispering. “Goodnight sweetheart.”
vi.
Since that night two weeks ago, Minho had taken to sleeping over every night.
Not that you were complaining, no, you could never complain about having your best friend and newly discovered crush (was it just a crush at this point, though?) holding you like you were fine china every night. In fact, you would rather have him there with you as opposed to waking up every morning to cold air and an empty kitchen.
Now, waking up to an empty bed was unusual. So when you opened your eyes and found your arms clutching empty air you were confused.
Checking your clock on the bedside table you saw you had an hour until Chemistry (getting the email yesterday that your English Lit class was canceled for today was a blessing) and while you debated going back to sleep wishing Minho was with you, you also were curious if he was still here.
By now you had memorized his schedule, knowing he didn't have class until later in the afternoon, so the only explanation was that he had gone to the practice room. You didn’t blame him, since that night Minho had made it his mission to walk you back to your dorm after your last class of each day. Sometimes he would go back to practice and sometimes he would just gently guide you to bed, tracing patterns on your back until you fell asleep.
You knew you were in deep and you knew it would hurt when all of this eventually stopped but for now you wanted to enjoy the way Minho said your name paired with “sweetheart”, or the way he would hold you tight but not enough to hurt you.
The smell of something cooking snapped you out of your thoughts and you pulled the covers back, feet softly sliding across the carpeted floor. You silently stood in the doorway and watched as the small stove burner was bright red. A pan sat on the burner with a pale yellow scrambled egg in it.
From this angle you could only see Minho’s back and the way his shoulder muscles rippled under his skin as he messed with the pans and plates in front of him. He looked handsome. But not in the handsome that everyone else saw. Everyone saw the dancer, the student, the friend, the guy that walked into a room and just his presence drew attention. Yes, you saw that as well, but you also saw the vulnerability, the chivalry, the deepest parts of Lee Minho that he never showed to anyone else.
That made you fall even more in love with him.
Just as you were about to interrupt the silence, Minho turned around, breaking the silence on his own. “Hey.” He said, holding up the newly made plate of eggs and bacon.
“Goodmorning, Min.” You smiled, walking towards the small table and sitting down.
“I made breakfast. I figured you could eat and then I could walk you to class.” Minho explained as he set the plate down, putting another plate in front of himself as he sat opposite to you.
“Yeah, that sounds good.” You replied, already starting to eat.
You both sat in a comfortable silence until you both had finished, leaving you to get ready for class while Minho got ready to walk you there.
As soon as you had finished getting ready you grabbed your bag and checked your phone. Ten minutes. You had ten minutes to get to class and you knew it would be busy as a lot of classes started and stopped around this time.
“Shit, we gotta go, Min. I don’t want to be late.” You grabbed your keys, quickly locking your door and grabbing Minho’s hand. At this point it was by impulse that you grabbed it and you were glad that he didn’t mind.
Before you could walk far, Minho stopped in the hall, making you turn around and face him. He grabbed your bag, slinging it over his own shoulder and smiling at you as he started walking again.
The walk there seemed like an eternity but that was only because you felt the weight of Minho’s hand in yours. In a particularly large crowd of people, Minho opted for a hand resting on your lower back so he didn’t lose you and could stay close, but when your hand was in his, you felt like you were in your own bubble. It was like nothing could affect you when you were next to him.
As you approached your classroom, you saw Chan standing at the doorway. It was weird, he never did that, opting instead to start on whatever experiment you had for the day.
His eyes caught yours in the crowd of people and they lit up. He lifted his hand to wave but his eyes wandered down to your hand that was clasped in Minho’s and his large smile lowered slightly.
“Shit.” You said, looking over at Minho who had a frown on his face.
Before you could say anything else, Minho released your hand, your bag sliding off his shoulder and finding your arms. “I’m gonna go to class. Have a good day, Y/N.” There was a melancholy tone to his voice that made you want to say something but before you knew it you had lost him in the crowd of people.
“Hey.” You said softly to Chan as you stood in front of him.
He smiled at you but you could tell it wasn’t as wide as it normally was. “Hey!”
You followed him into the room, looking at the front table where the ingredients for the days lab would be but instead seeing the teacher sitting there. On the board behind him were the big words NO LAB. LECTURE DAY.
“Oh great.” You groaned, setting your textbook down at your table and sitting down.
Chan sat next to you, his hands clasped in his lap as he stared down at his book. “So who was that?”
You knew he was referring to Minho, and you were thinking of exactly what you should say. If you said he was your boyfriend, you might not get the opportunity to date Chan but if you said he was your best friend, you could still have a chance. Through the last month, you knew just where your feelings were and you didn’t hesitate to answer him.
“That’s my boyfriend.”
His face registered shock and what you could only pinpoint as disappointed. You wished you could lie and say you wanted to be with Chan but for the second time in that month you had to admit it to yourself. You loved Minho.
“Oh, okay.” Chan nodded, looking up at the whiteboard. There was a moment of silence before he seemed to snap back to his normal cheery self. “Lecture days were specifically made by the devil himself.”
At that comment, you were back to clutching your stomach and doubling over in laughter. You quickly agreed, looking to the front of the room and seeing the teacher giving you a disapproving look. Not realizing class had started, you made a motion of zipping your mouth shut, turning to Chan and seeing him do the same.
As the lecture went on, you scribbled notes down and found yourself thinking about Minho. Yeah, Chan made you laugh and he was a dorky type of handsome that made you want to sit down and listen to his lame jokes all day long.
But Minho.. Lee Minho. He was the guy who watched you embarrass yourself in front of the whole school accepting an award in high school. He was the guy who held you tight when you cried about getting rejected by your first crush. He was the guy that told you you could do anything and everything that came to your mind. He was the guy who promised he would always be by your side through anything.
“Let’s talk about the chemistry of love.” The teacher’s voice faded back into your head, and you were intrigued to know more. “Most people don’t know that love is a chemical equation. I will go into more detail in a later lesson but the basic combination is dopamine, serotonin and oxytocin.”
You found yourself furiously scribbling everything down, hanging off his every word and worrying you were missing something. To your right, you felt Chan’s eyes focused on your face and you wanted to turn to him but you were too busy fixating on what the teacher was saying.
“Dopamine is released in the process of picking a mate and following the release of dopamine comes oxytocin, also known as the cuddle hormone. Just the simple gesture of holding someone’s hand releases oxytocin and causes a sense of attraction and what chemists then call ‘love’. Eventually, once the honeymoon phase is over chemically, meaning your body develops a tolerance to these chemicals, endorphins are released.” The teacher had his back turned, quickly writing down the full chemical compositions of these chemicals, but when he finished his sentence he slowly faced the class.
“Endorphins cause a feeling of comfort. It’s the feeling of being safe in someone’s presence, like you know they would do anything for you and vice versa.” He sat his uncapped marker on the lab table and proceeded to walk around the class, looking at every student he passed. He was silent, watching everyone (including you) try and write everything he said down.
As soon as he made his way back to his table, he began to speak again. “That, my wonderful students, is love.” There was a moment of silence before he smiled. “I will see you next week.”
You didn’t say goodbye to Chan when you left the classroom, knowing that seeing his face anymore would only make your chest ache.
Walking back to your dorm felt empty without Minho by your side. You wondered if he was busy with homework or class, deciding not to worry too much and instead thinking back to the lecture you just sat through.
The way Minho treated you for the past month had butterflies erupting in your stomach from holding your hand, carrying your books, the constant touches and the way he would follow every other sentence with “sweetheart”. You found yourself melting and constantly telling him that whomever he dated must feel like royalty.
But you also knew that even before this deal, the way Minho hugged you didn’t make you feel nervous or sweaty palmed, it made you feel safe. Whenever Minho walked into a room you felt your shoulders untense and a smile slip its way onto your face.
To you, Minho was home. He was the one you would go to with anything. He was the one that came to you with anything. You've helped him with relationship problems despite your lack of experience. He’s helped you with gym class and the history lessons you couldn’t seem to grasp.
You had been in love with Minho for a long time, yet you only seemed to notice it now.
Through your thinking you found your way to your room, unlocking it and slipping in. You went through the normal routine of setting your bag down in front of the couch, grabbing a water bottle and taking out your notebook.
Looking around, however, you noticed the surprising lack of clothes. Minho was a mess sometimes, leaving his shirts or socks on the floor, but there was not one trace of his clothes in sight. Everything looked sparkly clean, in fact, and there wasn’t any trace of Minho ever having been there.
You knew he had a spare key to your dorm and figured he just cleaned up a bit but the feeling of everything being a bit too clean couldn't be erased from your mind.
Deciding to call him to make sure everything was okay, you grabbed your phone. You saw Minho’s smiling face staring back as you tried to unlock your phone. Minho had taken a selfie and set it as your lock screen, and you made no protest, happy to be able to see his smiling face every time you wanted to unlock your phone.
He answered on the fifth ring. “Hey.” He said quietly and you were confused at his severe lack of energy.
“Are you okay, Min?” You asked him, hearing shuffling on the other side along with loud chatter of what you could only assume was students.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just on my way to class.” Minho’s voice sounded more than tired, it sounded sad.
“No, you’re not fine. I can tell.” When Minho didn’t answer you, you continued talking. “Whatever it is, you should talk about it. How about after your class? Come by my dorm, okay?”
There was a long sigh on the other line and you were worried he would decline your request but relief washed over you when he said, “Okay. I’ll see you then. Bye, Y/N.”
When you hung up, you decided to bury yourself in reading pages, trying not to think about the fact that he called you by your name, something he hadn’t done much if at all in the last month.
vii.
A knock at your door startled you off your textbook, realizing that you fell asleep with your face resting on it. You wondered who it was, knowing Minho had a key and could just let himself in.
So you were surprised to open up the door and see Minho standing there. He was wearing what he normally did after a shower, baggy sweatpants and a tank top, his hair still slightly damp and shining. For two weeks he had opted for taking a shower at your place, so why didn’t he do it now?
“Hey. Why didn’t you let yourself in?” You asked him, walking back towards the couch and closing your textbook, trying not to think of the small drool patch staining the periodic table.
Minho shrugged, his head dipping and eyes trailing on the ground. As he walked in he made sure to close and lock your door, knowing how paranoid you got. He didn’t look at you and you felt an empty feeling when he sat opposite to you on the couch, the farthest he could be.
“What’s wrong, Min? You’re worrying me.” You tried to move closer to him, putting a hand on top of his but he just pulled back, clasping his hands in his lap.
“I’m sorry.” Minho looked at you for the first time that night and you didn’t feel the warmth you normally did. There weren’t any bags under his eyes. Rather, it was like a dark cloud over his head. Before you could say anything, he interjected. “So how is Chan? Did he ask about me?”
Your stomach turned and you weren’t sure how to tell Minho you called him your boyfriend. Instead, you opted for a silent nod.
“What did you say?” Minho asked and you knew there was no way getting out of it.
“I, uh, I said you were my boyfriend.”
Silence. You felt like you wanted the couch to swallow you up.
“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done this.” Minho shakes his head, eyes falling back down to his clasped hands.
Your stomach sunk, not knowing how to respond. At this point, you just wanted to save your friendship because you knew you couldn’t take Minho no longer speaking to you. You tried to stutter out a response but all you got out was a mixture of “Um”s and “Uh”s.
“I’m sorry.” Minho apologized again and you stopped him before he said anything else.
“No. Don't apologize. I don’t feel that way about Chan anymore.” Although it felt like a dagger to your heart, you leaned back, farther away from Minho. “It’s not your fault Minho. If anything it’s mine.”
“Don’t say that Y/N.” Minho shook his head. “It’s my fault for letting my feelings cloud my judgement. I know it would hurt me more than help, but I wanted to express to you just how much I love you.”
Silence again, but this time you felt a spark in your stomach, warmth spread to the tips of your toes and fingers. I love you. Did he mean it like you did?
“I love you too.” You weren’t sure if you meant to say it or if your heart had a mind of its own. “I mean, I have for a long time but I think it took me a while to admit it.”
Minho looked up at you again, eyebrows disappearing behind his long fringe. His mouth hung open. “Really?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t think you felt the same but I wanted to be selfish and feel what everyone else that dated you felt. I wanted to feel loved that way.” Pausing, you asked a question that had you curious. “But if you weren’t sure I felt the same way why did you propose this idea anyways?”
“I’ve always loved you that way.” Minho moved closer to you and you felt the warmth slowly overtake your senses. “I wanted to be selfish too. I wanted to hold you like a boyfriend would and treat you like how you deserved. I just wanted to help you find someone, whether that be me or not was up to you.”
As soon as you got close enough, you reached out and cupped his cheeks with both your hands. His skin wasn’t so cold anymore, it made warmth radiate from your fingertips. “I would always choose you, Min. Always.”
Your knees knocked into Minho’s as he moved closer, and you were forced to remove your hands from his face. His nose almost touched yours and you swore you could see the entire galaxy in his eyes.
You smiled, a genuine eye-crinkling smile and Minho’s face mirrored your own. You weren't sure how his hands ended up on your waist, but you welcomed them there. His eyes searched yours, occasionally flicking to your lips. You moved your hands to his shoulders, thumbs running along his collarbones.
It seemed like an eternity before he asked you the one question you had been hoping to hear since the beginning of this idea of his.
“Can I kiss you?”
You did nothing but nod, closing your eyes and gasping when his lips finally met yours. They were slightly cold but you didn’t mind. Your hands raised to his neck, pulling him closer. Your knees hit together again but you couldn’t care less when Minho was kissing you like you were going to slip away.
Your lips moved together lightly, only leaving enough space for your breaths to mingle together in the air between you. Minho’s hand slowly traveled up your torso, stopping at your neck for him to run his thumbs along your jaw. Everything was so intimate and although you’ve only had few people to compare it to, Minho was the best kisser you had ever known.
Time seemed to halt when Minho’s hands finally settled on your cheeks and it felt like he was trying to pull you closer and if you had gotten any closer the line between you and Minho would blur. You wanted to be as close as you could to him, feel the heat from your head to your toes but right now all you felt was Minho’s soft lips moving softly against your own.
When Minho moved his lips again, tilting his head even more and letting you find a more comfortable rhythm, you smiled into the kiss. He tasted like peppermint and everything you ever could have imagined. You felt him smile against your lips as well and were forced to pull away.
“I could spend forever kissing you, sweetheart.” Minho smiled, the familiar feeling of his fingers tapping a rhythm on your waist making the warmth in you heighten.
You were breathless, but you mirrored his sentiment with a whispered. “Me too.”
There were a few beats of silence in which you threaded your fingers into his still dewy hair. Under his stare you felt nothing but comfort and love for your best friend sitting before you.
His eyes lit up even more. “I have an idea.”
You raised your eyebrows, ready to hear just exactly what he had in mind.
“Well, you’ve never been in a relationship. So why don’t I change that?” Minho’s cheeks were tinted red and he took his bottom lip in his teeth.
“You mean like real dating?” You were reminded of a month ago when he had asked you if you wanted to try out that little idea of his. But now you get the real thing.
“I guess? I didn’t think this far.” His smirk told you everything and you felt your face heat up. You chuckled, fingers carding through his hair before resting back onto his shoulders.
You didn’t need another moment to think of your answer.
“Sure. Let’s do it.”
viii.
Perhaps your Chemistry teacher was right, there was an equation for love going on in your brain as you laid in Minho's arms in your bed. He had already fallen asleep but you found yourself unable to stop smiling against his bare neck. His scent flooded your nose and you decided on another name for it. Home.
You felt safe. You felt like you could conquer the world as long as Minho was by your side. You knew no one would be able to make you feel the way Minho did as you felt his fingers slowly tapping against your waist. Soft snores came from above your head and you found your eyelids drooping. Minho’s heartbeat was the best lullaby as you drifted off to sleep.
Everyone had their own love equation and you knew yours.
seratonin + dopamine + oxytocin + endorphins = Lee Minho.
this is a story about grit. this is a story about dirty fingernails and ugly truths. this is a story about gritted teeth and hope. not all broken things are beyond repair, and sometimes you must look a room of people who tell you they know better in the eye, and make a stand.
