#I actually just finished this right after my final exam

[dfroggofarson]

Helloo Dear Reader! Since exam period is crushing me I decided to post Chapter 2. today. Thank you for the likes and the reblog! I am looking forward to feeding on your support. - that's gonna be how I measure my worth, obviously.

Btw You can also find this on my Ao3 under the same username.

Have fun and a good day (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Cry, Baby

Chapter 2. - Some I-scream, sir?

"No, I’m telling you, Pompompurin is extremely cute!"

"Exatly! That’s why I’ve been telling you to get Pompompurin socks, like me!"

You wiggled your toes in the pink merch socks while the rest of your legs were still under the too-clean and too-white hospital sheets. It has been almost a week since you’ve had the luck of being hospitalized, and today was the day you finally got released. Yamaguchi came here every day just to be with you for these past six days, and even though you got him to go home early yesterday, he insisted on being with you today to help you with packing, and to treat you to ice cream as a reward for enduring hospitalozation and not dying. You told him you were perfectly fine now, but he was adamant.

"I’m not leaving you alone! What it another episode comes and you’re by yourself?" He asked, despite knowing you have nurses available 24/7 and your mom also came to check on you every day after work.

You were thankful you had a friend like him.

Now there you were, standing up slowly – as per your friend commanded you – while he held your right arm to help you balance yourself. "I can stand all right by myself, thank you," you remarked, to which Yamaguchi just snorted.

"I don't think so."

"I really can, but... alright." Your face warmed into a smile.

Your friend made sure you could actually stand on your two legs, and then went over to the other side of the bed to pick up your backpack your mom brought you a few days ago.

”So I packed your bag but look around, I might have forgotten something," Yamaguchi offered. You glanced around and shook your head. "I got your books, snacks, clothes, socks, and um… that sort of things…" Suddenly his face became all read and you had to take a moment to realize why.

"You didn’t pack my underwear, did you…?" You asked, mortified, now your face read also. He gulped. "I told you to leave my underwear alone! Were you secretly a pervert all this time or what?!"

"No, no, I’m sorry! I was just trying to help, and happened to grab them, too… It was an accident, I swear!"

"How can this be an accident?!" You exclaimed, both of your heads as red as an overripe tomato. "How can touching my underwear be an accident?!"

"Are you finished, kids? We have to get going."

Both of you turned to the door to see your slightly annoyed mom leaning into the door frame. If red had an even more intensive color than you two were wearing, now your faces would resemble that. You wanted to dig yourself a grave and lie in it without hesitation. Yamaguchi’s face told the same tale.

"Come on, Yamaguchi-kun, get Yori’s bag," she ordered, and the poor boy flinched. He grabbed your bag and scurried out of the room as quick as possible. "Let’s go, Yori."

"Yes, mom," you replied.

"And teach that boy some manners while you’re at it! I don’t want grandkids until you’ve both finished college."

"Mom!" you cried, burying your face into your shirt.

"I’m so sorry, Ms. Shidou, I really didn’t mean it…" you heard Yamaguchi whine while waiting for you in the corridor. You caught up to him while letting your mom take the lead.

She got you checked out of the hospital, and took you to the gray Toyota that was parked outside the hospital. All three of you got in the car and remained silent. It was your mother who broke it first.

"How are you feeling, Yori?"

"Better, thanks. I am as healthy as an ox!" You said smiling, and you didn’t lie.

It was just that you had a weird feeling in your stomach you did not know the reason of. But hopefully it was not another warning for a second seizure to come.

"The doctor told me about this new experimental medicine," she continued. "I could have you enter a program, he already made a spot for you. Most of it would be covered by the hospital. He also said it’s much better than the last one, it’s showing great progress with little side effects. I think we should to it."

Your smile weakened. Another experimental program? The last and only one you were willing to participate in ended with night vomiting, serious headaches and early signs of depression. Although it made the number of your seizures deplete, it was not worth it. You would have stopped after the second dose, had your mom not pushed you through all the way to the sixth.

You had no choice but to go with her decision, but maybe you could get her to drop these trial drugs.

"I don’t think that’s a good idea… The last one I took only made it worse," you mentioned carefully.

"Yes, but it’s different now. I looked at the numbers, almost seems to be too good to be true, but apparently it is."

You highly doubted that.

"What do you think, Yamaguchi-kun? Don’t you think it would be good to end these hospital visits and get these seizures out of Yori?"

Yamaguchi looked to the other side. You absolutely hated when she did that. Trying to get a manipulated opinion out of your best friend to support her cause.

"Well, it’s not really my place to say, but… I think Yoriko-chan should be the one to decide. As far as I have heard the last time it didn’t go that well…"

"Is that so? Hmm, I suppose you’re right…" she gave the impression of thinking about it, but you knew very well she had already made up her mind.

You just despised these situations.

The car turned to the left, and you were now in the city center of Shibuya.

"Mom, you remember I told you how we wanted to grab some ice cream with Yama-kun? To celebrate my release?" you said quickly. Anything to get out of this. "Would you please drop us off somewhere near? I’ll meet you at home in a few hours, I promise I won’t be late!"

"Oh, right. Let me take a right, I can pull aside there."

She turned to the right and stopped the car. "All right, you two be careful. If anything happens, call me and I’ll get you," she said, but you knew you would never do that unless it really was an emergency. "Yamaguchi-kun, keep an eye on my daughter – but not a too close one."

Yamaguchi nodded his head up and down frantically, and promised to do so. You bid your farewells to your mother, and got out of the car. You watched as she drove away, and when the Toyota was out of sight, you let out a sigh so large Yamaguchi almost jumped.

"I just hate it when she picks on you, I’m sorry," you said, but he just waved it off.

"I know what she’s like, I sensed something was coming our way," he admitted, to which you grimaced. "But really, I don’t think it’s a good idea. Maybe they’ll go away, like three years ago, and then they won’t come back."

"Even if that were to happen, I doubt she’ll let go easily. Maybe if nothing happens for a few months. I’ll just need her to drop this topic."

You two walked silently towards the ice cream shop you knew well. That strange sensation in your stomach did not seem to go away, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. The grimace on your face only shifted also. And Yamaguchi was quick to notice it.

"Are you okay? Does something hurt?" he asked worriedly. You shook your head.

"No, it’s just… this seizure was somehow… different."

"Different?"

"I can’t really put it into words, but there is a strange sensation in my stomach telling me something’s wrong," you admitted. Strangers passed by while you were walking slowly. "And… I had this weird dream while I was sleeping… there was this... thing that had four arms and four eyes."

"Wow, okay, your dreams are mostly horrific or undecodable, but this sounds different," Yamaguchi said, looking on the pavement.

"Yeah. And also there was some kind of word I heard while looking at it. It was Ryoumen, it means double-faced, I think."

You heard someone tripping over their feet behind you, and you quickly turned to see a white haired man collect himself casually. He wore rounded sunglasses. You quickly turned to him.

"Are you okay, sir?" You asked as Yamaguchi approached him as well.

"Of course, of course!" He replied, probably with the most unworried tone you have ever heard in your life. You had no idea what he was on but you would gladly accept some of that. "Sorry to bother you, I just accidentally overheard you talk about a dream you had, and I happen to be a big fan of strange dreams! Would you care to talk about it more?" He smiled friendly, and you started to have a fishy feeling about him, you just couldn’t put your finger on it. But you were so taken aback by his question that you automatically replied to him.

"Sure, uhh… So there was a four-armed thing, maybe a guy… and I heard this Ryomen…"

"He had four eyes, right? What colour were they?" He asked, face still lit up for whatever was so interesting in your random dream.

"Uhh, blue, why?"

"Oh, blue, I see! You know, there is actually a study that showed that less japanese people see blue-eyes in their dreams, so I guess that makes that dream extra special!"

"I… see?" You were seriously weirded out right now, and you could sense Yamaguchi had the same feeling.

"Also, did he by chance have black marks across his body?"

Something was wrong.

"Yes."

You could not see the stranger’s eyes, but you swore to God something changed in his expression. The next moment it was gone, like nothing happened.

"Are you in a hurry now? If it’s not inconvenient for you, would you care to join me for a coffee to talk about this dream more?" He asked, and all alarms went off in your head. Something’s wrong, something’s wrong!, your gut told you.

"Please excuse us, but actually we are in a hurry," said Yamaguchi, grabbing your arm and starting to pull you in the opposite direction he was originally going in.

"Yes, but it was very interesting, thank you for the talk," you said, hoping to God he wouldn’t follow you. Maybe it would be a good idea to call your mother, she couldn’t have gone that far…

"Ah, forgive me for taking your time, then. But please take my contact info, if anything pops into your mind or have another dream like that, please contact me!"

You quickly took the card uttering one last "goodbye" – heaven knows why – and let Yamaguchi practically drag you away from the scene. You glanced at the stranger’s direction – but he was gone! It was like he wanshed into thin air. The hairs on your neck stood up. Run, your brain told you, and you made haste right away. You and Yamaguchi only stopped when you were several blocks and streets away.

"Oh my god, I thought he was going to kill me or something," you panted, heart still in your throat, and Yamaguchi nodded heavily.

"He’s totally a serial killer. Oh my god, he must be a serial killer, I am so glad we’re alive."

"Me too. Shit that was weird," you muttered, still terrified of the aura that man was carrying. What was his business?! You just couldn’t figure it out.

"Maybe he wanted to kidnap you, you’re a pretty schoolgirl after all.”

"Let’s just… not think about that againand forget it, okay? Shit. Thanks for dragging me away, I thought I was gonna throw up and get killed on the spot," you said, eyes wide, while both of you leaned onto a wall. "I do not want to die by the hands of a random stranger."

"What if we didn’t talk about death at all?" He interjected. "I don’t want to die, I’m too young to die. No death for me, please."

"And no ice cream too, I really think I’m gonna throw up…" You barfed, trying to hold it in. Your stomach was stirred to the point where you really thought you were going to vomit. Thank you, stress.

In the end, you managed to hold back, but you didn’t have the nerve to get going just yet. Both of you just leaned to the wall and stared out of your head.

What was that man’s business? Was he really some sort of dream-scientist or whatever? He didn’t seem to be bad at first glance, he was maybe even handsome and friendly. But the questions he posed and the way he did… Every single nerve in your body told you to run, that something is wrong and just go.

You looked at your hand, his card still in your palm, although a bit crumpled. You waned to throw it away immediately, but… something told you to keep it. You were still a bit trembling, so without thinking, you put it in the back pocket of your trousers and forgot about it as quickly as you could. You would throw it out later.

The two of you remained here for what seemed to be half an hour, until you could calm your heart and breathing. Only ten minutes passed by the time you got going, and none of you spoke about getting ice cream that day again.

* * *

Later that afternoon, you said goodbye to Yamaguchi. You could still see how his hands were shaking, and you could relate to him quite much on this matter. He made sure to get you home safely, walked you to your front door and watched you go inside before he turned to go home as well. Thankfully, he only lived a few streets away from you, and just three minutes after he dropped you off you got a message from him telling you that he’s home, too. You let out a sigh of relief and went straight to your room after saying hi to your mom. She did try to ask why were you so early, but you just said that you remembered you have a test on Monday and you and Yamamguchi had to study for that.

Once you got upstairs, you changed to your pajamas and plopped on your bed to watch anime, or anything, to get your mind off of that strange encounter. You started the first anime that came to your screen and watched mindlessly. It seemed to work, and because Yamaguchi didn’t text you you assumed he was doing the same.

A few hours later you had dinner with your mom, and although she was not a bad cook, you just couldn’t get yourself to eat with joy. You dodn’t have an appetite, but if you had let her know that, she would have tried to ask questions that you really didn’t want to answer.

When you were winished with washing the dishes, your mind was somewhat at ease. You went to the bathroom to get ready to sleep. You said goodnight to your mom, walked to your room, and tucked yourself in. Sleep didn’t come that easily – but when it did, you wished you never closed your eyes in the first place.

[marvelmaven]

Broken But Brave Pt. 8

This is my first attempt at a fic, so encouragement and kind advice are welcome. Let me know what you think!

Bucky Barnes/Original Fem! Character

Set in an AU where Tony DOESN'T die after End Game and Steve is actually with Bucky till the end of the line.

Summary: Bucky is going through therapy, consulting with the Avengers, but not interested in living under Stark's roof, for reasons he thought should be obvious to everyone. On his way home to his Brooklyn apartment, he bumps into his new neighbor, a petite, self-proclaimed cat lady. But he notices something about her that will have him keeping his eye out.

Trigger warning: References to Domestic Abuse (Not Bucky)

Part 8/?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Lori was finishing up some final notes for the day before calling it quits when Amanda, the receptionist, popped her head into her office. “Your man is here, where on earth did you find a guy like that?” 

Lori’s stomach sank, thinking of her ex, “I don’t have a man, who’s here?”

“The guy that walked you here this morning,” the twenty-something seemed completely oblivious to Lori’s anxiety, “are you telling me that snack is single?”

“Oh, James? He’s my neighbor, not my boyfriend,” Lori laughed in relief, although a tendril of jealousy seemed to sprout, curling in her stomach, “would you tell him that I’ll be done in just a minute?”

“Yup,” Amanda replied, popping the “p” and hurried away. Lori shook her head, trying to focus on finalizing the exam notes for Mr. Pickles, a slightly-overweight lab mix she’d seen earlier that afternoon, but she was having trouble focusing with Amanda’s high fake laugh sounding from the front desk. Mr. Pickles could wait until tomorrow. Rolling back from the desk, she quickly shut her laptop, stowing it in her purse and grabbing her jacket and coat. She walked into the waiting room to find a slightly uncomfortable James on the receiving end of Amanda’s pointed questions about his workout routine. 

“I’m just saying, you gotta do more than just run, I can see those guns,” the receptionists flirted, “so…”

James noticed Lori behind her and his face lit up in relief, “Ready to go, doll?”. He looked at the receptionist, “real nice to meet you…Amy.” 

“Amanda,” she responded dryly. Lori felt tension she didn’t even know she was holding, leaving her shoulders. 

“Right,” He met Lori and led her out of the door, hand in the small of her back. Only when they were halfway down the block did he exhale. “Why does everyone ask about my workout routine? Is that like talking about the weather or something now?” 

Lori stopped, looking up at him, disbelieving. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” James looked down at her confused as she laughed. 

She shook her head, “she was flirting with you, silly.”

“That’s considered flirting now?” he looked bemused, “this whole world’s gone to hell.” 

“Okay, grandpa, what do you consider flirting?” Lori looked up at him, putting on a cheesy old-Hollywood accent, “I’d love to kiss you, but I just washed my hair.”

“Betty Davis, she was a real dame.” James laughed, looking down at her with twinkling eyes, “Nah, I can hardly remember at this point, seems like a lifetime ago. How was your day?” He seemed like he was eager to change the subject, ears red with embarrassment. Lori smiled and fell into easy conversation about her patients, including the pudgy Mr. Pickles. As they walked by the sushi place, she paused. 

“You hungry?” She smiled up at James who had stopped when she had, “I feel like I owe you dinner as thanks for walking me home.” 

He scoffed, “Let’s eat, but I’m paying. I don’t mind walking you home.” He opened the door for her, ushering her through.

“We’ll split it.” Lori insisted instead, taking a seat at the sushi bar. 

“Not a chance, Steve told me about that whole ‘dutch’ thing.” James sat beside her, “like I said, whole world’s gone to shit.” 

“Hmmm, maybe, but I do enjoy being able to open my own bank account.” Lori nudged him slightly and he chuckled looking down at her. 

“Fair point, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses, huh? But most guys don’t know how to treat a lady on a date anymore it seems.” Their eyes met and Lori felt her stomach do somersaults. She looked at her chopsticks, breaking them apart and arranging them. 

“Oh, is this a date then?” She joked, giggling. 

James smiled at her, “I’m just being a gentleman, like my Ma raised me to be. Our first date? I’ll knock your socks off.”  

Lori’s lips parted, a pink tinge painting her cheeks and nose. He didn’t treat it like a joke, but like it was a certainty. This confidence and banter made her head swim. “Sounds like a plan to me.” 

He leaned closer, about to say more when his pocket began buzzing. Frowning, he pulled out his ancient flip phone, “Damn, this is Steve. I’ll just be a moment.” 

He stood and stepped outside to take the call.  The waitress took the opportunity to come back over with two beers, placing them in front of Lori and in James’s empty spot. 

“Well, he seems to be into you.” The waitress said coolly, her eyes on where he stood outside. Lori followed her gaze. James was in a serious discussion, jaw tense, and his left hand, the vibranium one he kept gloved in public was flexing, a nervous tick Lori had noticed a few times before. 

She turned back to the waitress, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach. What had him so anxious? “Oh, we’re not like…like that. We’re just good friends.” She felt the need to remind herself as much as tell the waitress. He couldn’t possibly be into her.

The waitress scoffed, “he’s friends with Yori too, but he doesn’t look at him like that.” Lori rolled her eyes, but the waitress continued, “He’s looking at you like you hung the moon and stars or something. Trust me, dating is rough, you could do a lot worse.” With that she went away to a group at the other end of the bar, leaving Lori feeling off kilter. She glanced back at James who met her eyes and gave her a small smile, mouthing “sorry”. Lori couldn’t help smiling back at him, softly mouthing, “take your time.” 

She turned back, picking absently at the label of her beer as she thought about the recent flips and butterflies her stomach had made whenever their eyes met. James was obviously an attractive man, tall, chiseled, with ice blue eyes and a jawline that could cut a girl if they weren’t too careful. She’d found herself admiring the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled and how rather than be bothered by her chatterbox ways, he simply seemed content to listen. Daniel hadn’t been her first relationship, just her worst, but despite all of the heartbreak and tears she’d endured, Lori knew deep down she was a hopeless romantic. She just assumed there were no real romances left in the world. Dinner dates where you went your separate ways with butterflies in your stomach and sweeping a girl off their feet with romantic gestures had been replaced by endless swiping, “You up?” texts,  and unsolicited dick pics. Most of all when she thought of James, she thought of how entirely and effortlessly comfortable and safe she felt around him. It might be selfish of her, but safe was feeling that she’d not felt in far, far too long. Even yesterday, instead of seeing a mess of a woman with an overwhelming past, he saw a person who had fought hard to rid themselves of the shackles of a toxic man. 

She knew he had a dark past, but it made her feel angry for James, not at him. The people who had tortured him, brainwashed him, made him do those terrible things, they were the real monsters. Not the kind man who had had all of his bodily autonomy stripped away, forced to kill and hurt people that he would otherwise have wanted to protect and help. She saw it in the way he deescalated Yori and Unique at the trash cans almost every week or the way he never failed to bring Mrs. Garcia roses. 

“Sorry about that, doll.” James startled her, making her jump slightly, “Steve was just giving me an update on a project I asked him about, we were making some contingency plans. What are you thinking for dinner?” 

Lori looked at him and smiled at her menu, “I mean, I’m always down for a spicy combo, but the house platter also looks really good.” 

“Let’s get both and split it then,” James took a sip of beer and looked down at her, a relaxed smile on his face. 

“Sounds good to me,” Lori knocked her beer bottle against his, smiling as she took another drink. It would be nice if the waitress was right, James was pretty easy to fall for. 

James ordered for her, of course, and they fell into easy conversation about everything and nothing while they ate, Lori giggling madly at the face of discomfort he made and the shade of red he turned after a bit too much wasabi. 

“I gotta tell you, food is a lot better nowadays,” he managed after wiping a wasabi-induced tear out of his eye, “we just used to boil everything.” When the bill finally came, she made a mad dash for it, but James held the bill out of her reach (easily) refusing to let her pay. 

“I’ll venmo you then,” Lori laughed. 

“What the hell is venmo?” James extended a hand helping her to her feet. 

“I keep forgetting you don’t have a smartphone,” Lori looked at him as she slipped into her coat, “it’s this app that lets you send money to people so you can split stuff.” 

“Huh, remind me never to get a smartphone.” James opened the door and led her back towards their building. “You cold?”

Lori nodded, teeth chattering, “y-yeah, I still am a wimp in cold weather. Seattle and California are n-no match for the N-Northeast.”

James leaned down looping her arm in his, “Can’t have you freezing to death.” he paused for a moment, “I don’t like the cold, reminds me of when I was him.” 

“The Winter Soldier?” Lori nodded, leaving space for him to continue. When he didn’t seem to want to speak anymore, she said softly, “I’m sorry, for what they did, for what happened to you. You’re sweet and kind.” She leaned into his side, “A real gentleman, yah know? And when I look at you I don’t think of those things. I think of my very tall neighbor who sits with me while I talk through movies and knit.” 

A silence lay between them for another long few beats, she wondered if she’d overstepped somehow. 

“Thanks, Lori,” his voice was deeper, a bit hoarse, “That…that means a lot.” 

He only released her arm, comfortably nestled in his, when they arrived at their building, opening the door and waiting until she walked through. Lori was looking around them, worried she’d see Daniel or his car somewhere nearby. But there was nothing. That seemed to unsettle her more. He’d always kept his promises, especially the worst ones. She shook her head and led the way back to her apartment, pausing when she got to her door. In large, red letters across her door, someone had spray painted “SLUT”. The door was cracked, someone had kicked it in, and hung broken on its hinges. Panic flooded her senses. 

“MARVIN?!” Her voice came out in a desperate cry that tore at her throat. Panic flooding her senses, James arms were around her waist in an instant, holding her back from entering the apartment, gentle but firm, and she clawed desperately at him to let her go. 

[alastyr-not-alastair]

🎶 Happy Birthday to me! I’m officially 18 🎶

[hotchnerwrites]

“Enemies to lovers, but only one of them thinks they're enemies. The other has been entirely obsessed since the beginning.” Saw this concept on here and got me thinking—reader works at the bau and thinks hotch hates her, but in reality it’s the opposite and she’s misreading his signals?

Mixed Signals

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: SFW, idiots in love, good ending, swear words

A/N: Hi hi hi hi!!! sorry for the long wait!!! finally have some time on hand from exams and im getting all reqs done!!! chose to go down a dry humour/funny route for this. honestly reminded me of my olive branch fic, except it's reversed ahahah. anyway, thank you so much for your patience. i hope you enjoy this!!!! so much love, mwah mwah mwah <3

My requests are open. Send me stuff! Please read the rules before asking, and be advised there is a slight wait time right now. But I will post for sure. :)

ps- i kind of maybe forgot to proofread so let's pretend any errors don't exist 😬 

At the end of the day, it was just work.

You all were colleagues— professionals selected for their skills, all crammed together into one bullpen and expected to play nice. That didn’t mean you had to be friends. People were allowed to dislike each other if they wanted. It happened. Tensions flared, personalities clashed, and someone always ate the last yoghurt tub.

And if Aaron Hotchner happened to hate you in particular, well, that was his right. It was just part of the job. And you were aware of it. Oh, so aware. Acute, constantly and embarrassingly aware.

There was no question about it: he hated you. Not disliked. Not tolerated with professional indifference. No— this was loathing. Cold, calculated, deep-in-his-bones hatred. 

You felt it in your blood every time Hotch walked into the bullpen and skipped over you when saying good morning. It radiated from his office like a laser death ray whenever you laughed a bit too loud. 

It wasn’t paranoia. You’d done the math.

Morgan? A nod of approval. Prentiss? Professional respect. Reid? Indulgent patience. Rossi? Best friends. You? Fuck all.

You were sick of the stone-faced silence. And that look he did. That little glance from the corner of his eye, paired with a crease between his brows. Like your presence caused him physical pain. You’d once made a joke in the SUV, and he sighed. Not laughed. Sighed. It was actually quite impressive, how consistent he was about it. 

You’d retaliated by calling Hotch all kinds of names. Mentally, of course. It was childish and dramatic, you know. But no more dramatic than the way he had once corrected your paperwork with a red pen, and hadn’t even told you— just left it on your desk like a cursed object. 

You tried not to take it personally. For a while, it worked. But then he started doing this thing— this new thing— where he’d enter a room, and leave as soon as you walked in. It had only happened twice, but it had been the same excuse both times: that superiors called him away. Suspicious.

So you did what any well-adjusted and emotionally mature adult would do. You went straight to Garcia’s office and told her that your boss hated you and you were going to get fired because he could smell your weakness. She’d gasped, handed you a bejewelled stress ball, and offered to hack into some database on your behalf (you declined, but it was nice to feel loved for a change).

Still, you couldn’t shake it. It seemed like he couldn’t be in your orbit for more than three and a half minutes without the need to file an HR report.

So when the moment came, you weren’t prepared.

●・○・●・○・●・

You were in the briefing room, finishing up your notes after everyone else had gone. The case had closed. People were smiling. Even Hotch had smiled at someone. (Not you. Obviously. But still.)

You were alone now, sorting through crime scene photos, muttering under your breath about timelines, when his voice startled you.

“You missed lunch.”

You jumped. Clutched a photo like a weapon. “Hotch—you can’t just sneak up on people like that.”

He looked vaguely alarmed. “I knocked.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” he insisted, like someone trying to explain doorbells to a raccoon.

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you want?”

He paused. Then, slowly, he stepped forward and—without ceremony—placed a sandwich in front of you. Neatly wrapped. Labelled with your name. From your favourite place.

You blinked. “…What is this?”

“You didn’t eat.” A beat. “It’s been a while since the brief ended.”

“I— I was going to—”

“I’ve noticed.”

You stare at the sandwich like it’s a bomb. Then at him.

“You got me food?”

“Yes.”

“Because you hate me and you’re trying to poison me?”

He blinked. “What?”

“It’s fine,” you said, hands raised in mock surrender. “I respect it. A clean kill. No one would suspect a thing.”

“…Why would I hate you?”

You let out a single, disbelieving laugh. “Are you kidding? You avoid me like I’m radioactive. You only talk to me when absolutely necessary, and even then, you struggle. You sigh when I speak.”

Hotch looked absolutely, entirely baffled.

“I sigh at everyone.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. It’s a thinking thing.”

You scoffed. “Well, you don’t think around Morgan that much, apparently.”

He exhaled. Then, before you could launch into Exhibit D (the Unspoken Broom Closet Incident), he said:

“I’ve always valued your insight.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Your reports are consistently the most thorough. Your geographic profiling is precise. You’re one of the most detail-oriented agents I’ve worked with.”

You stared at him. “…So you don’t hate me?”

“No,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “Quite the opposite.”

Silence.

You opened your mouth, about to ask what the opposite of hate even meant in Hotch-speak, but he was already turning away, clearing his throat.

“Anyway,” he said, suddenly very interested in the wallpaper, “I thought you might want lunch. That’s all.”

And then he was gone. Just—left. Like he hadn’t just lobbed that cryptic grenade over his shoulder and walked away.

●・○・●・○・●・

You don’t eat it right away. Not because you’re still suspicious—it’s from your favourite deli and has your name written on the brown paper in what can only be described as Hotch's weird, neat serial killer handwriting—but because you're too busy mentally disassociating.

Quite the opposite.

What on earth did he mean?

The rest of the day passes in a weird, slow-motion haze. JJ gives you a weird look when you accidentally sit in her chair. Reid asks if you’ve seen his recent paper, and you blink at him like you’ve just returned from war.

Because you’re thinking. Hard.

Like:

That time Hotch asked if you were staying late and then looked weirdly panicked when you said you were walking home.

The morning you came in limping from breaking your ankle, and he said, “You shouldn’t be here,” in the flattest tone imaginable.

How he called you by your first name once, and you almost fell out of your chair because he never uses anyone’s first names. You chalked it up to a lapse. 

And then. Then, the worst one.

Last month. You’d been coughing like a maniac during a briefing. He had placed a bottle of water in front of you with a dull thunk. At the time, you had taken it to be his passive-aggressive way of saying please shut the fuck up right now. Only to find out later from JJ that he’d actually gotten up and left mid-meeting to get that water for you.

Now you're sitting at your desk rewatching it all in your head like the twist ending of a psychological thriller.

●・○・●・○・●・

You don’t see Hotch again until nearly 6 p.m., and when you do, he’s at his office door, jacket folded over one arm, clearly intending to head out.

You’re not even thinking when you get up and intercept him halfway down the hall.

He stops mid-step when he sees you. “Everything alright?”

“I… need you to clarify what’s going on.”

He exhales like someone who just got caught by airport security. “About what?”

You try to keep your expression neutral, but your heart is pounding like you’re about to ask your boss if he’s mad at you—because that’s exactly what you’re doing.

“You’ve been… weird,” you say finally. “With me. For months.”

Hotch tilts his head. “Weird.”

“You barely speak to me unless it’s about a case. You avoid sitting near me on the jet. I brought cookies in last week, and you took one, then put it back. Who does that?”

He has the audacity to look mildly horrified. “I didn’t mean to put it back.”

“That’s not the point.”

You’re spiralling and he knows it. You can tell by the way his jaw tightens like he’s trying not to laugh. You, on the other hand, are mortified.

“I just need to know,” you continue, quieter now. “If I did something wrong. If I’ve annoyed you somehow, or if you genuinely just… can’t stand me.”

There’s a beat of silence, just long enough to make you want to crawl into the floor tiles.

Hotch runs a hand down his face. “I don’t hate you.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I—” He pauses, and then, with all the charisma of a man giving a congressional hearing, says, “You make me nervous.”

You blink. “Sorry?”

“You… distract me,” he mutters, like he’s admitting to tax fraud. “I didn’t mean to be distant. I thought it would help.”

“Oh.” It comes out stupidly small, because your brain is too busy cataloguing every single interaction the two of you have ever had and realising, oh no, he was just emotionally repressed and completely, tragically bad at this.

You swallow. “So… you don’t think I’m annoying?”

“No,” he says, almost immediately, and then after a pause, “Not even a little. Not even when you talk over me in briefings.”

You almost laugh. “That’s because you talk like we’re in court.”

“And you talk like you’re arguing with your GPS.”

Now you do laugh, and something about the way his shoulders ease tells you this is maybe the most honest conversation you’ve ever had with him.

You look at him for a second longer, searching his face. “You’re really bad at this.”

“I know.”

“You could’ve just said you liked me.”

“I’m saying it now,” he says, softer.

And okay—maybe Hotch didn’t confess it with a rose in his teeth and violins playing in the background. Maybe it came out like a man filing paperwork for a broken heart. But it’s still something.

“You want to get coffee or something?” you ask.

He nods once. “Yeah. I do.”

You don’t know what this is yet. But it doesn’t feel like work. And this time, he didn’t glare— so, by your standards, that was basically a proposal.

Thanks for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[windixie]

500 days of you ── .✦ spiderman! gojo x reader ch. 1

pairing . academic rivals spiderman! gojo x reader

summary ⊹ ࣪ ˖ being at the top of your class for the past few years has not been a problem for you at all, that is until he transfers in, stealing away your spot with his genius intellect and annoyingly good 4.5 gpa, better than your 4.0, all while wearing that stupid grin you just want to punch off. what's worse is he also happens to be the cities hero, in who you fall in love with, unknowing to who was under the blue mask.

warnings ˎˊ˗ college au, academic rivals to lovers, eventual smut, gojo is a pervert, panty

stealing, dry humping, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, sexual harassment, toxic relationship with family, unhealthy diet, fluff, set in new york like any other spiderman, female reader, p in v, oral, reader is a virgin, violence, gojo is full of himself, webs used.. inappropriately.

playlist ⟢ 500 days of you

wc . 5.4k

a/n . yes the title is based on 500 days of summer i was watching it while writing ..

500 days is all you have left until you graduate. according to your calendar that you have self made, placed neatly beside your bed so you could cross each day as it passes with your pink highlighter, you have exactly two years. today, december 20, marks your first day of long awaited winter break in which you desperately needed after enduring what you believe was the worlds hardest final exam for your humanized and social science class.

your roommate has decided to take this time to go visit her family back at her hometown, to spend a few days with her family wrapped in a comforting warm and cozy atmosphere alongside whatever her family provides. but you chose to stay behind, not that you had anymore exams to finish up or anything, but because going back to see your family, if you could even call them one, wasn't even an option. your relationship with them wasn't abusive or anything, just strained, always putting your brother's needs before yours. that's part why you picked the farthest college you could away from them, an entire different timezone.

you wouldn't call it running away, because that implies fear, you'd just call it more of a extraction. a nice and peaceful separation. sure, they reach out once in a while, but you always come up with excuses on the spot to end the call early. they barely knew that much about you, hell, they didn't even know which college you were going to even your plan in majoring in physics until a month before you left.

nyu is a beautiful campus, not traditional in any way, it bleeds right into the city. any spot there would be perfect to study, and well you didn't have anything to do for the next two weeks so a little studying before the next semester even starts. so with that you made your way over to your locker which was a brief fifteen minute walk away from your dorm.

you don't mind the walk, no rush, no crowds. the usual buzz of students chirping has died down. its not a eerily type of quiet, its peaceful. the faint sound of your footsteps echoed throughout the almost empty hallway. reaching your neatly decorated locker, you opened it unaware of the person right next to you, the door swung right into them.

"shit-"

your eyes widened as you saw the persons books fall right out their hands.

"oh my god im so sorry! I didn't see you there!" you immediately crouched down to pick of the several textbooks, most of them being physics for semester two. it wouldn't be a surprise if the owner of these books would be in the same class as you. "its alright" the mysterious person chuckled as they took away the books from your hands.

your eyes widened as they landed on them. or him, actually. he had beautiful bright blue eyes that for sure held every secret of the ocean, and snowy white hair that resembled the snow that was falling right outside. you couldn't even get a word out.

"im Satoru." he said, waiting for you to give your name to him.

"right.. right. I mean- im y/n." you stumbled across your words. he gave you a crooked smile, almost naturally as he saw you stutter. his hands now itched onto his heavy physics books, tilting his head as he studied you. "you have any idea where mr. thompson's class is?" his smooth voice asked. mr. thompson. thats the name of your physics teacher.

"yeah! yeah he's my physics teacher!" that came out a bit more excited than you intended it to. "yeah? mind being an angel and leading me to it?"

you laughed softly, hoping the light pink tint on your cheeks weren't noticed by him. oh but they were. the awkward tension melted right away. "of course."

he didn't mind the blush, and the way his smile widened told you that he definitely noticed your blushing, but he didn't say anything about it, instead allowing you to show him the way around the campus. he fell into step beside you recalling how you as well had this course. "so.." he broke the silence, "you actually understand physics are you just one of those people who pretend to know what you're doing?"

you shook your head laughing a bit as your gaze fell down to your shoes against the pavement. "no, no I understand. im majoring in it so I kind of have to. but it honestly depends on the day, sometimes I feel like the textbook is gaslighting me" now it was his turn to let out a laugh. and it sounded genuine. "thats great. back at my old uni, people were only there for the credits or whatever. no one was really as passionate as I am." you gaze shifted to him. "oh, which school did you transfer from?"

"colombia university."

"is the lack of people taking physics seriously the reason for your transfer?" you asked half jokingly, but you wouldn't be surprised if that actually was the reason, you knew some people like that.

he sucked in a soft breath, eyes flickering from your figure to look forward. "no I just.. wanted a different environment I guess." there was a bit of hesitation in his voice, but you didn't push it. after all you just met this boy not even five minutes ago. you both finally reached mr. thompson's classroom, his door slightly ajar. "he should be in here.. he always is., im convinced he lives in there"

he hummed looking into the classroom, catching a glimpse of the bald headed man hunched over a stack of papers before looking down at you. "thank you, y/n. I hope we see each other in uh two weeks?" the way he said your name sent your butterflies on a rollercoaster.

"yeah.. yeah I hope so too." you said quietly which earned a sweet smile from him before he walked in to talk about whatever he needed to with the professor. with one final look at the door you turned, only to remember you didn't even grab your books, let alone close your locker which was the whole point you came out of your dorm. you quickly rushed back with the thought of the new student lingering in the back of your mind.

── .✦

in the blink of an eye, the break was over, and the dreadful second semester rolled right around the corner. the traumatizing sound of your alarm that was set at 7 on the dot woke you up for your 9 am physics class, slicing through the silence and especially your slumber.

you groaned, clicking repeatedly at your phone to shut the ear piercing sound off. for a second, you considered skipping. but you knew mr. thompson doesn't play no games, and neither did that syllabus. so you dragged yourself out of your bed, limbs heavy, and mind still foggy as you began to miss the warmth provided by your bed. the sky outside was still that dusty gray, soft flakes falling right out of it.

after making yourself a cup of coffee, you brushed out your hair to be somewhat socially acceptable. you were the top student of the school either way, you had to be presentable at all times. you threw on a jacket and a cute pair of pants before making your way out of your dorm, holding envy for your roommate for not having a morning class.

by the time you reached the lecture hall, well your body because your soul was still trapped in between your blankets, you noticed that you werent there first one there like always. your eyes landed on him.

satoru.

he was seated right there at the front of the class, his posture was excellent, back straight, shoulders relaxed, giving you another reason to like about him. his eyes were trained on his phone, with his earbuds blasting whatever he was listening to in his ears. but they shifted as you walked in, and when your eyes met, a soft smile appeared on his pink tinted lips making your chest feel just a little too full.

maybe the second semester didn't seem so dreadful at all.

"hey.." he took out an earbud out of his ear as you approached, sliding in the seat right next to him. "hi" you replied, placing your bag next to you. "glad we're in this class together. haven't really met anyone else since we talked."

"that so? not even your roommate?" you unconsciously fixed your hair to try and maybe woo him with your beauty. "oh actually i'm living in an apartment" your hand stopped playing with your hair.

"an apartment? in New York? the school is already bleeding us dry.. what are you, rich or something?"

that earned a chuckle from him, a quiet one that made your stomach flip. "yeah.. sure." he had a grin on his face, making you question if it was a joke or not. you both watched as more seats filled up with new and old students. but everyone was eventually startled when mr. thomspon walked in and slammed a textbook onto his desk.

"well I'd like to say im disappointed from last semesters final exam results." he began, a hint of amusement in his voice, "but id be lying."

a beat of silence.

"im proud to say that everyone passed." a relieved sigh escaped almost everyones mouths, echoing across the room. "and of course, ms. l/n, miss goody two shoes," you placed a hand on your chest in mock offense making satoru sniffle a laugh next to you. "you got the highest mark, like every year." he grumbled. "im starting to think you're just here to make everyone else feel bad about their grades."

"only slightly." you muttered under your breath, loud enough for satoru to hear. he turned a bit towards you. "lets see how long you stay up there, miss top of the class, until I snatch your spot."

you stared at him while he turned back to face the front. he was just joking right? I mean no one could steal away your spot. no one has for the past two years, and no one will. right?

── .✦

oh but you were wrong. oh so so so wrong.

this boy wasn't your new friend. he was your rival, like his whole existence was to take away everything you've worked hard for. he wasn't your soon to be charming lab partner or the cute guy you'd hang out with at a local cafe after class.

he was your academic nemesis.

it didn't hit you right away. not until the first quiz given to the class was passed back in which you got a 97% on. but once you saw a fucking 100% on satoru's paper circled in a horrid red ink, thats when it hit you. and the cherry on top was when mr. thompson grinned and leaned down to whisper, "looks like you've got competition." you stared at satoru like he had just murdered your family, not that you minded, but in a way he murdered your entire existence.

he looked at the paper, like he didn't even care that he passed, because to him this was normal. he caught your expression and was confused to see that the usual soft look on your pretty face was now replaced with pure wrath.

this wasn't just 480 days of school anymore.

this was war.

every time you raised your hand to answer a question, it was always outshined by satorus. damn him and his longer limbs. and every time, the professor would call on him.

every. single. time.

you even considered this being sexist. then satoru would answer correctly, of course. damn mr. thompson for finding this whole rivalry hilarious. like if your whole identity as "the smart one" wasn't practically being lit on fire in front of everyone right now. you felt the shift, and you heard the whispers of you being out throned. and what made this whole situation worse was that stupid charm that he offered you with, "im glad to be in physics with you." a lie.

a damn lie.

and you couldn't help but hate him for it every day, every higher mark, every time he got called on, and every time he smiled at you in the mornings or in the hallways thinking you two were still friends.

it didn't help that everyone practically loved him. girls slipped their numbers to him every other day, even undergraduates which you found disgusting. he did everything so effortless while you stayed up until 2 am re-reading lessons, burning through notebooks, killing your pens, and even pulling all nighters like kay chung for important upcoming exams, mistreating your body with more caffeine than you could handle to try and claw your way back up the top.

until eventually you burnt out.

you ignored every 'hello' coming from him or any stupid joke he'd come up with, you settled on a different seat away from him not having the guts to stare at him be better than you for another second. not while he thrived and you crumbled.

and it was like you were back at home, always being seen as the second option right after your brother. a man. of course the second you feel like you are finally worthy of something, someone has to take it away from you. but why now? why after two years in which you spent trying to escape that feeling, was everything going downhill? you weren't even sure if he was even aware of the harm he was causing you mentally and physically.

that he was undoing you without even trying.

but he did notice. he noticed how you stopped talking to him, saying hello or laughing at his jokes or even avoiding his gaze like if it would burn your eyes if you made eye contact, and it hurt because you were practically his only friend other than a boy he met in his calculus class. suguru geto, aka his 'man in the chair.' he always alarmed satoru discreetly whenever there was a bank robbery happening down the street. because not only was satoru now holding the title of the top student of nyu, but he was also the hero of manhattan.

"spiderman makes an unwanted appearance again last night," the news reporter said with her voice being more sharper than the bold lettering on the headline scrolling beneath her, "at a secluded alley near the 'sunny time up' bar, involving a man attempting to steal one of the employee's vehicle."

click.

"when will this vigilante wake up and realize that this job is for law enforcement"

click.

"he's a danger to the people of manhattan! this isn't a comic book, he's interfering with police work!"

every time you clicked on the remote to change channels, spiderman was everywhere. for someone the people claim to hate, he sure is the talk of the week.

"dude is like time square on new years.." you mumbled mostly to yourself.

"my father hates him." your roommate, wendy's father is the head of the police department. he's always complaining about he boy who hides away behind the blue mask, claiming that he is causing more trouble in the busy city. you gave a dry laugh. "your father hates everyone, including me" she sat on your bed next to you, holding a bag of chips in her hand which she offered you.

"I dont see why it's such a big deal. he does more than the police has done in the past five years. he's like what? our age? from what I have heard he is definitely not beyond his twenties." you stared at the video of him swinging across buildings, the sharp blue color of his suit making it hard to lose sight of him.

the color reminded you of satoru's eyes.

your mood suddenly shifted as you thought of him, your appetite was long gone as your stomach twisted in disgust. "how are you holding up with the whole academic rivalry thing."

"shut up." you grumbled.

"I feel like it's one sided, well from what i've heard from you." wendy's voice was quiet, but her words stung. because deep down, you have told yourself the same thing.

"its like he doesn't even try." you dragged your hand across your face as you stared at the textbooks on your desk before they shifted to the calendar right above it. 455 more days.

454 more days.

453 more days.

452 more days.

451 more days.

450 more days.

another school week has passed by. another week of avoiding his intense stare across the lecture hall. another week of hearing him laugh with that black haired boy that had way too many piercings on his face. another week of debating if anything was even worth it anymore.

you looked back up to your calendar, staring at that number written beneath the date. 450 more days until graduation! you got this! how many more days until everything will stop feeling so heavy.

how many more until you stopped caring.

but its like you couldn't even catch a break. your negative thoughts were interrupted by the vibration of your phone. you slowly dragged it out your back pocket before looking down at the called id.

mom.

you couldn't answer. not with your voice cracking or tears falling. you couldn't let them know that you were struggling the same way you were all your childhood and you especially couldn't give them that sense of pride in the way you were burning out. how could you tell them the pressure didn't go away but it only shifted from different mouths in different places. you couldn't handle hearing, "I told you so."

'just stay in state, I dont see why you have to move all the way to the other side of the world. you won't be able to handle it like your brother.'

'your brother stayed here in the same state, why can't you do the same? he visits us regularly!..'

shaking away the echoes of your parents voices, you watched the slow rise and fall of wendy's chest, and you quietly zipped up your jacket before sneaking out. fresh air was what you needed right now. it hit you like a reset button- the kind that clears your head. not caring where your feet took you, you made your way through the city.

the night was still alive, buildings lit up, parties at every corner you looked at, and other people walking as well. it did feel refreshing. until you heard it. a sharp, disgusting wolf whistle behind you. it was low and mocking. the city is big, its bound to have horrible beings. your steps didn't stop, your stomach twisted and you felt sick.

"hey where are you goin' sweetheart? you look delicious." the slurred voice behind you said. you didn't even have to look back to know what kind of man it was. your pace quickened, trying to reach a store or anything that had some sort of crowd. but the footsteps behind you didn't stop, they matched your speed and quickened.

this was exactly what your brother warned you about. being in such. huge city will only be more dangerous. you felt your throat drying up and you looked down at your shadows, seeing the mans hand reach for you. but before even his fingers could brush against you, a blur of blue and white appeared. there was a soft thud, a groan, then silence.

you slowly turned.

"hey," spiderman said calmly shooting a web right on the strangers face. "she's not interested." the man stumbled back, letting out a muffled yelp, fear overthrowing whatever he was on. he didn't even budge. your heart was still racing as you took in his muscular figure. and then he turned to face you. ".. now what are you doing outside at night, hm?" his voice shifted into a much softer one, like he was talking to a kid. you wanted to talk but you couldn't get a word out as you felt the heaviness in your throat as well as the weight you've been carrying from the past few months.

the way he stood was so familiar. "im sorry.." is all you could get out, you soft voice quivered which immediately sent his senses off. "hey, hey its alright why are you apologizing?" his large hands cupped your cheeks. despite them being gloved, they were warm and comforting. his thumbs swept under your eyes wiping away any incoming tears. "why are you apologizing?"

"I dont know.." you answered honestly. but the ache of not being enough was resurfacing. he let out a quiet breath at your answer. "thats okay.. you dont have to explain." his hands didn't move away from your face, in fact you found yourself leaning into his touch.

"let me take you home." he whispered. "..I live at the nyu dorms"

he nodded before dropping his hands to grab the back of your knees without any warning, picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. "hold on baby, okay?" your tired mind couldn't even process the pet name before allowing your arms to wrap around his neck, placing your head in the crook of it as well.

without another word, he laughed upward, shooting a web into the sky. the loud roaring of the wind as you both swung across building from building deafened your ears. gravity tugged at your stomach with every sharp dip and rise. you unknowingly shook in his hold, the hand that was holding you rubbed your back before settling to cupping the side of your thigh, dangerously close to your ass. "its okay, I got you."

his hand and feet stuck to the side of the dormitory building. "which dorm is yours angel?"

angel

that pet name reminded you of satoru. why is it that the smallest things reminded you of him? why does your mind insist in continuing to think about him. "... that one." you pointed to the window just two floors up and to the side, in which he crawled to, tightening his hold your plush thigh. he carefully slid the window open, crawling in.

"we're here.." he could barely get out before the soft click of a lamp lit up the room, revealing wendy who was staring at the both of you, holding onto each other rather intimately. your arms were still wrapped around his neck while his leg was pressed right in between yours, in the middle of placing you down.

your eyes widened as you stared back at wendy. "you're awake.." you whispered.

"you're with spiderman.." she stated the obvious. you and him were quiet, the silence louder than you wanted it to as you backed away from him. "I wake up to see you missing, assuming you probably went out to party, only to see you grinding on spider mans leg? oh my dad would hate you even more right now" the masked vigilante cleared his throat, his hand was still placed on your waist, not wanting to completely let go of you yet.

"I should.. get going." he murmured, before looking at you, not wendy. and behind the mask, you swore that for whatever reason he didn't want to leave.

"oh.. yeah uhm thank you, have I thanked you yet? whatever just.. thanks for everything." you stammered, scratching the back of your neck. with one final lingering squeeze on your waist, he pulled away. "any time." he then turned back to wendy. "can you tell your dad to stop trying to tase me?"

"nope." she furrowed her eyebrows.

"..worth a shot. take good care of your friend for me yeah?" he asked before leaving through the window, allowing the city to take him back. wendy's head sharply turned to look at you.

"what..?"

she blinked, once and twice and thrice. "you've got a lot of explaining to do." she grinned.

── .✦

"you just come back from patrolling?" suguru asked as his fingers moved quickly on his controller letting out a few curse words when his opponent did damage on him. "yeah.." satoru closed the window behind him, tugging off his mask letting his white locks spread out, making him look like a model. he threw it on his bed, making his was deeper into his apartment. "you can't just use my pc whenever you want to man." he grumbled as he watched suguru get a victory royale.

"hey, if im helping you out on your little 'hero' shit, I can play whenever the hell I want."

satoru undressed, pulling up some grey sweatpants, but staying shirtless. scars adorned his torso and chest. "guess who I ran into."

"uhh that crazy police guy that tried tasing you."

satoru shivered at the memory. "no thank god. it was y/n." suguru clicked off the game turning his full attention to his friend. "the chick you like?" the blue eyed boy nodded. "saved her from some drunk shit, took everything in me not to kill that bastard after seeing her cry."

"what happened then?"

"took her back to her dorm.. met her roommate as well. turns out she's the daughter of the head of the police department. anyways, y/n looks horrible.. like there's something going on with her."

"yeah its you. you stole away her spot of top student." suguru reminded him. "I didn't mean to!" satoru defended himself.

"her friend for sure is going to spread around the fact that she saw y/n with spiderman. talk to her about it." satoru thought about it. if he asked you if everything was okay with you after last night, maybe you'll start talking to him again.

one thing about wendy is that she can't keep anything to herself. suguru was right, your encounter with spiderman spread like wildfire. like full blown social media wildfire. your name was brought up in multiple group chats, tweets, even those dumb confession accounts on instagram.

"SPIDERMANS GOT A GIRLFRIEND LMFAOOO"

"yall hear y/n slept with spiderman?"

"what do they call baby spiders?"

you were speeding past everyone, heart racing like you were in a heist movie making your way to your next class before you were stopped. "hey.." the familiar voice cut through the air. satoru. "heard what happened last night.. everything okay?" he asked, noticing how thin your wrists were.

was this another one of his acts? "yeah.." you mumbled. "everything fine." you tried brushing it off but he wasn't having it. he raised an eyebrow before his hand placed right on your waist, the same spot spider mans hand was on. "talk to me. you ghosted me weeks ago.. did I say something or do something?"

dont act so innocent, you thought. of course he did something. "physics is just,, stressing me out I guess." which was partially true. his eyes travelled down your face, looking at your lips before his tongue darted out to lick his. "let me help you then."

despite the hatred you held for your rival, you missed him. sure you only talked a few times, but you missed talking to him, his dumb jokes and his dorky smile. "..okay" you agreed. "maybe later this week." and for the first time in what felt like forever, your chest felt light.

── .✦

your classes were finally over. with your bag placed over your shoulder, you made your way outside after deciding to pick up some sweet treats for both you and wendy, who you were still kind of annoyed at for spreading around your encounter with spiderman. you reached the warm welcoming bakery, picking out whatever looked delicious, chocolate cover croissants, blueberry muffins, and a few cream puffs before making your way to check out. the second you stepped out, the rain decided to make an appearance. one that you weren't prepared for.

you clutched onto the bag full of treats.

"you again?" the voice came from above you. you looked up, moving your dripping wet hair to get a closer look. there he was, perched upside down from a streetlight. "..here to save me from the rain?" you asked half jokingly. he hummed, flipping down to land right in front of you. "of course baby. wouldn't want you to get sick.."

his arms wrapped around your waist before shooting a web straight up the roof of the bakery, pulling you both off the ground. you let out a little yelp holding onto both him and the pastry bag. seconds later you both were outside the window of your dorm, before he effortlessly opened it up placing you on your bed. your shirt rose up a little exposing your cute little spiderman boxers.

"is that me?" he asked tracing the waistband that had his heroine name in bold letters. your breath hitched. you completely forgot about those, or even buying them let alone wearing them today. both you and wendy went shopping a couple days back, going into the kids section and jokingly buying each a pair of spiderman undies.

'hey you should wear these to thank him.' she snorted

'eat shit.'

your hand shot out to push his away, chuckling nervously. "okay thats enough.." but he was faster, he grabbed your wrist forcing it to be on your mattress before his other gloved hand tugged up his mask enough to expose his mouth. his jawline was sharp, and those pink lips.. your eyes widened as you looked up at him. "ah.. spiderman?" he brought said hand up to his mouth, his teeth pulling off his glove before spitting it out somewhere else.

"nah.. let me see this." he pulled up your shirt, showing off your midriff, as well as pulling your pants down to your knees. "mm yeah thats me alright.." you felt your heart pounding in your ears. his tongue darted out to lick your stomach.

"spider-man..!" you gasped. he looked up at you, wanting to savor this moment. as if he wanted to memorize this exact version of you.

"never thought I'd be someones fashion statement." he moaned as he saw the wet patch starting to form. his thumb placed itself right on it. "this alright..?" he wanted you bad, but he also wanted you to be okay with this. you nodded looking up at him with a look that just drove him crazy.

his rubbing continued before he pulled away pulling down just the lower half of his suit. "its hard as hell to hide my dick in this shit." he grumbled.

oh.

oh.

he was huge. like really, really big and heavy, it couldn't even stand up correctly. he fisted his cock a few times, watching his pre- cum ooze out before placing it right on your clothed cunt. you wrapped your legs around his torso, bringing him closer in. "thats it." he groaned slowly rocking into you. your body shook with every hump of his hips, the wet patch in your spidey briefs grew bigger. his hands traveled throughout your body, hot and rough as two fingers found their way into your mouth, forcing you to lick them. "good girl, get them nice and wet for me baby."

his voice was low and dripping with arousal. he brought his head closer to your face. you whimpered softly as your hands tugged at his suit, your legs that were still wrapped around him trembled. "wearing these and you expect me not to ruin you?" he moaned as he dipped a finger into the pouch that every boxer had, feeling how much you wanted him. the two fingers that were toying with your tongue left with a loud pop before his lips found yours in a sweet but messy kiss.

just before he could release his hot seed onto you, there was a knock at the door.

"y/nnnn! let me in I forgot my keys!" damn wendy. spiderman sighed pecking your lips one more time before he pulled back, sliding down his mask. he reached for the glove he threw away as well as his lower part of his suit. "ill be taking these as well.." he murmured ripping off your briefs, which had you cringing at the sound, exposing your cunt to the cold air. "ill see you around okay, darling? thank you for this, such an angel."

and with that he left. leaving you with no release and nothing covering your lower half.

"y/n!" wendy knocked again.

"coming!"

oh you wish you were.

ending note . hope you all enjoyed chapter 1 !!

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ studying for finals .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆ Third Years x gn! reader

𓏵 930 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns used, fluff, once again, pardon the French in Rook's part; I just used a translator TT

In honor of finishing my finals hehe >< First Years are done! Second Years are done, too! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

Cater’s cheerful on the outside, but you can tell he’s not super thrilled about studying, he’s more into vibes than vocab drills. Still, he sticks around because he wants to help.

He’ll suggest making colorful flashcards or recording voice memos to make memorizing more fun. He’s surprisingly organized when he has structure.

“Ughhh, do we really gotta go over this section again? Wait, no no—I'm not ditching! Just…brain break time?”

He encourages you with lighthearted jabs that never feel mean.

“Hey, look at you go! If you keep this up, I might have to start copying your notes!”

You’ll catch him checking your focus sometimes, because if you’re serious about passing, then he will be too.

Later he might post a vague Magicam story like “Studying with real ones hits different.” (It’s about you. You just don’t know it.)

─────────────────────────

Trey’s the ideal balance of calm and productive. Studying with him feels like sipping warm tea; you feel focused, safe, and cared for.

He’s great at helping you memorize, especially if it’s related to logic or patterns.

If your stomach growls, he’s already reaching for a snack box.

“Take a break. A fed brain is a smart brain.”

When you thank him, he smiles softly.

“Of course. I don’t mind helping you. You work hard, and that matters.”

You leave the session with a full mind and a fuller heart.

─────────────────────────

Leona acts like he’s so bored to be studying, but he’s sharper than he lets on.

The two of you probably end up studying while lying in the sun somewhere, textbooks propped open lazily.

He explains things with blunt efficiency and grumbles if you miss easy questions, but never actually leaves.

“Tch. I already told you how to do that. C’mon, you’re smarter than this.”

But the moment you get something right?

“... Heh, See? Knew you’d catch on.”

He never says it, but studying with you keeps him grounded. He’d rather be here than anywhere else.

─────────────────────────

Studying with Vil feels like an academic runway—organized, composed, and elegantly intense.

He has high expectations, but he’s not cold—he wants you to shine.

When you struggle, he gently adjusts your notes or posture, never harsh, just… precise.

“Hold yourself with pride. Intelligence and beauty go hand in hand.”

If you impress him, he offers genuine praise, touching his chest like a pleased director.

“Very good. See? I knew you were capable of excellence.”

You leave feeling like you just passed a personal trial. You want to be better around him.

─────────────────────────

Studying with Rook is an experience. He romanticizes everything; he calls your learning process “sublime,” your confusion “a poetic struggle,” and your notes “a canvas.”

He watches your face intensely as you read, commenting on how you furrow your brows in thought.

“Magnifique! Such raw focus—c’est inspirant!”

Somehow he knows random facts that are on the exam, and he quizzes you with flair.

He’ll dramatically recite questions like they’re lines in a play, then wink when you answer correctly.

It’s weirdly motivating… and kind of fun.

─────────────────────────

When you first ask to study with Idia, he panics. “W-Wait, like, in-person? Together? In the same room??” You can practically hear the error sounds in his head.

But he doesn’t say no. After a few awkward silences and you settling in quietly, he lets you stay.

Idia doesn’t really “study” in the traditional sense—he breezes through calculations and logic-based subjects like he’s speedrunning a strategy game.

He’ll mutter explanations more to himself than to you, but when you ask questions, he’ll blink and repeat it more clearly (and slowly).

“Oh. Uh… right, okay. So if you think of the equation like cooldown rotation, then this variable's basically your setup move…”

He never expects praise, so when you do praise him, he just about bluescreens. His hair flickers pink for 0.3 seconds before he turns away with a rushed “N-Not really… It’s not like I did anything cool…”

The study session ends in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. Before you leave, he says, without looking up, “If you… ever need help again… I guess I’m around.”

It’s not an invitation, not exactly. But you both know you’ll be back.

─────────────────────────

Studying with Malleus is quiet, focused, and oddly soothing. He asks questions that feel more like philosophical riddles, and you both end up tangenting into historical lore.

He’s incredibly patient. If you stumble, he waits for you to find your footing.

“Take your time. Knowledge is not a race.”

He listens to your thoughts with full attention, occasionally giving this small, amused smile when you think aloud.

If you fall asleep mid-study, he quietly watches over you like a protective shadow.

You always leave feeling like you learned something deeper than academics.

─────────────────────────

Studying with Lilia is unpredictable. Sometimes he’s wise and composed, helping you connect concepts like a veteran mage. Other times, he’s humming pop songs and offering “ancient” study tips that are 500 years out of date.

“In my day, we wrote essays with quills made from wyvern feathers! So much character…”

He makes learning fun, even if he occasionally leads you wildly off-topic.

He praises your efforts with a proud chuckle.

“You’ve improved so much! I’d say I’m proud, but I’ve always been proud of you.”

You never know what to expect—but it’s always a lovely time.

[viastro]

i wanna know you | boo seungkwan

ミ★ synopsis: everyone has a dream. to seungkwan, volleyball had been everything to him, and almost everyone in high school knew that—especially you. so why was it so strange to see him years later working towards anything but that?

ミ★ genre: strangers(?) to kinda lovers!au, unrequited love!au (in hs!), coach!seungkwan, teacher!reader, humor, fluff, some angst

ミ★ warnings: sexual innuendos (very brief), so much cursing (i'm sorry), one kms joke (from beomgyu)

ミ★ word count: 18,653 (i need to be put down)

ミ★ pairings: seungkwan x gender neutral reader

ミ★ notes: heyyyy... it's been a very long time. i know. i'm so sorry. i'm going straight to hell, i know. tldr - i graduated undergrad in 2023, got a full-time job 2023-2024, and then i started my first year of grad school in sept. of 2024!! wow!!! this fic has been in the works since like... end of 2023 prolly... i suddenly got a burst of wanting to write so that's how i finally was able to finish this fic ?? crazy. anyways, i hope you guys will enjoy this fic that took me actual years to finish <3 please give seungkwan lots and lots of love :3

You tiredly stumble into the convenience store, having just finished your last eight hour shift at the school before spring break. Typically, you would’ve gone straight home after work, but you had a craving.

A craving that could only be fulfilled at the convenience store.

You walk straight to the ramen aisle and grab the shin ramyun off the shelf, before heading to the freezer to grab a cup of ice and a bag of tea. A little smile forms on your face at the image of you eating your favorite ramen in a few minutes, and you hurry to the cash register to speed up the process.

Placing the cup of ramen onto the counter and the drink you got, you glance down at your bag and prepare to pull out your wallet when the cashier speaks.

“That’ll be $8.”

You blink at the familiarity of the voice, and slowly lift your gaze until you lock eyes with a familiar pair.

“Boo Seungkwan?” You murmur in surprise, and the blonde blinks at the sudden mention of his name.

He tilts his head and points at himself, “Me?”

“Well, I’m not Boo Seungkwan.” You respond, to which he bites the inside of his cheek in embarrassment. You tap your card on the reader, hearing the familiar ding that signals your payment went through. You slip your card back into your wallet, feeling your cheeks flood with warmth at the awkward silence that has fallen over the two of you.

Curse my dumbass mouth, you think to yourself.

“Here’s your receipt.” Seungkwan says, holding out the piece of paper with a curious look on his face. You give him a tight smile and bow your head in thanks, taking the receipt from his grasp and turning to practically sprint out of the store.

It’s when you’re about to rest your hand on the handle of the door that his voice rings out from behind you,

“Do you know me from somewhere?”

You shut your eyes tightly, wishing that you could just act like you didn’t hear him. Except you can’t, because you practically froze when he asked you the question. Letting out a breath, you slowly turn to face him with a small, albeit strained smile.

“We were in the same graduating class in high school. You were class president of our class, and the captain of our school’s volleyball team.” You explain, the sound of your heartbeat becoming more apparent at how mortified you are at this interaction. The blonde stares at you for a moment, before his eyes flash in recognition.

“Yn Yln, right? You were always in the Top 3 for exam scores.” Seungkwan says, and your eyes widen at the fact that he even knows your name.

You were always quiet in school, not really stepping out of your comfort zone until your undergraduate years. Your high school graduating class only knew your name because of your high exam scores, but your face? Not so much.

You’re pretty sure everyone only found out what you looked like when your name was called during graduation.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You respond with a smile, and the blonde grins softly. Biting the inside of your cheek, you lift up the unopened shin ramyun, and with a sudden wave of courage you ask, “If you’re able to, do you want to join me outside for late night ramen?”

Seungkwan blinks in surprise at the invitation, glancing at the time to see that he’ll be off shift soon. He looks back up at you and nods his head, “I’ll be off work in 10 minutes.”

You let out a quiet breath of relief and give him a thumbs up, “I’ll prepare my ramen then.”

You sip on your iced tea, staring out at a flickering lamp post down the street as the city life starts to dwindle down. You take note of the different types of people who walk past the convenience store. There are office workers who just got off shift and are walking back home, college students stumbling through the streets after a fun night out, and some younger students who just got out of cram school.

You always wondered which group Seungkwan was part of after graduating high school.

“I got some extra sausage. I feel like you should always pair ramen with some protein.” His voice rings out, startling you from your thoughts.

A smile makes its way onto your face when you see the plate of sausage, looking up when he sits across from you. He lets out a breath, shivering slightly from the brisk night air as he breaks apart his chopsticks.

“Thank you.” You murmur, and the blonde waves his hand at you as if to say, no biggie.

Biting your bottom lip, you break apart your chopsticks and remove the lid of your ramen, practically salivating at the sight of the spicy noodles. The two of you start to dig into your ramen without another word, showing how hungry you both must have been as you each eat in silence.

It’s only when you reach out and take a sausage that you manage to glance at Seungkwan, noticing the dark bags under his eyes. You place the sausage into your mouth, looking back down at your ramen as questions start to arise in your mind.

Where did you go to college? What have you been up to? What are you doing working the night shift at a convenience store?

What happened to your volleyball scholarship?

“Are you a teacher now?” Seungkwan asks suddenly, startling you out of your thoughts once again. You look up from your noodles to see the blonde looking at you with a curious gaze, and you tilt your head at him, “Oh? How’d you know?”

“You’re still wearing your lanyard.” He tells you with a smile, and you look down to see your smiling face looking back at you. You let out an awkward chuckle and take off your lanyard, placing it onto the table. “I work at a private school right now. I’m a first grade teacher.”

“That’s super cool! I bet it’s hard work too.” Seungkwan tells you with a grin, and you nod your head while letting out a whistle. “You can say that again. Sometimes they can all be such little shits and it drives me insane, but I also love them all dearly. Is that crazy? Is this a toxic relationship?”

“I think those are valid feelings to have when working with children.” He says, and you smile softly.

“What about you? What have you been up to since high school?” You ask, and the blonde just shrugs his shoulders as he nonchalantly replies, “Graduated from SNU and now I’m working two jobs in order to pay off the student loan.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your other job?” You ask, not ignoring the fact that he strategically didn’t mention his volleyball scholarship.

“I’m the volleyball coach for our old high school. Our old coach retired after I got into college, so the principal hired me immediately once I graduated.” Seungkwan explains, and you nod your head, now understanding the dark bags under his eyes.

Slurping up a noodle, you ask, “You didn’t want to join the National Volleyball Team after you graduated?”

Seungkwan freezes at the question, and when you don’t hear him respond, you slowly look up to see him staring down at his ramen with a faraway look to his eye.

Oh no. I shouldn’t have asked.

“It… seemed like too much pressure. I thought it’d be better to just be a coach, that way I’m still part of the sport.” Seungkwan says carefully, and you bite the inside of your cheek at his answer.

He’s not telling the full truth.

“That makes sense. Does that mean your school is also starting Spring break?” You ask, choosing to ignore your curiosity as you slurp up the last of your noodles.

The blonde nods his head, halving the last sausage so that you both can have a piece. “Yeah, I was planning to pick up extra shifts from the convenience store so that I can make some extra money.”

You purse your lips when a thought comes to mind. It’s an impulsive thought, if you will. A thought that’s always been like a faraway dream to you since high school, one that’s never been within reach.

Until now.

You suck in a breath in an attempt to gather the courage that took over you earlier.

“I don’t really have any special plans for Spring break. I was thinking of just going with the flow, but do you want to hang out during our week off?” You ask in a quiet voice, already wincing at the thought of incoming rejection from the pretty boy. Silence falls over the two of you, and you’re too scared to look up to see his reaction, so you continue to have a staring contest with your empty cup of ramen.

“Why?” Seungkwan asks softly after a moment, a question you weren’t prepared to answer. Trying to act nonchalant, you shrug your shoulders while turning your attention to the flickering convenience store sign.

Your heart is racing within your chest as you answer truthfully, “I want to get to know you.”

Seungkwan stares at you for a moment, but you continue to avoid eye contact as you stare down at the table. The blonde lets out a breath after a moment, and holds his hand out towards you. Your eyes trail up towards his hand, before finally looking up at his face.

“Let’s exchange numbers.” He says, and you almost exhale a breath of relief. A small grin makes its way onto your face and you nod your head, pulling out your phone and placing it in his hand. You watch quietly as wisps of his blonde hair flow along with the gentle breeze, and you fight the urge to reach out and pat them down into place.

He looks up at you after hearing the notification from his phone, and he hands you back your phone. A small smile escapes you when you see the tangerine emoji in his contact name, “You’re from Jeju, right?”

“Did the tangerine make it obvious?” Seungkwan asks with a grin as he takes a bite of the sausage. You shrug your shoulders with a teasing smile, “Maybe a little bit.”

The two of you chuckle, before continuing to eat your late night meal. The full moon shines down onto you both as you fill each other in on what’s been going on since high school graduation. Quiet laughter and conversation fill the silence on the first night of Spring break, a night that feels like a small beginning, something neither of you expected.

“Boo Seungkwan! You killed it at last night’s game. Are the college scouts coming to the next one?” You glance up from your desk to see a group of boys from the other classroom surrounding the class president. Your eyes linger on the bright smile that graces his face when one of them ruffles his hair fondly, feeling your heart thump against your chest at the sight.

“I think so, there were a couple that came last night too. Yonsei University’s scouts talked to Vernon and Mingyu after the game last night.” Seungkwan tells one of the boys, eliciting a chorus of ohh’s from them.

“Isn’t your goal SNU? When is their scout coming?”

“They’re coming to Friday’s game.”

You turn your gaze away when the boys start excitedly rooting for Seungkwan and asking him how he feels about the upcoming game. Glancing down at your journal, you start to write the date and subject of the upcoming lesson at the top of the page to try and distract yourself from the noise around you.

Your pencil freezes at the top when the sound of Seungkwan’s laugh rings in your ear, and you find yourself stealing a glance at the popular boy once again.

He has a big smile on his face and shrugs his shoulders, trying to act nonchalant as he says, “I’m a bit more nervous since this game means a lot more to me, but I’m excited. I’ve been preparing myself for this moment since I was a kid, so you guys better come to cheer me on, alright?”

He’s glowing, you think to yourself as the guys around him let out a chorus of cheers. The sunlight peeking in through the windows casts a warm glow over his face, making his smile look a little bit brighter than usual. His black hair reflects a pretty shade of brown underneath the sun, complimenting the warmth of his skin.

Feeling the corner of your lips quirk upwards, you turn your head and look out the window of the classroom. Your gaze follows the single white cloud in the bright blue sky, and you close your eyes at the feeling of the sun hitting your skin.

You silently root for Seungkwan, hopeful that he’ll perform well at Friday’s volleyball game.

“Yn.”

You keep your eyes closed, wanting to bask in the warmth from the sun a little bit more.

“Yn.”

You refuse to open your eyes, but there’s a frown on your face now, starting to grow a little bit annoyed at the pestering.

“Yn…”

You’re about to open your mouth to tell the person to fuck off, only for them to cut you off with a loud call of your name,

“YN!”

You gasp awake at the shout, turning with wide eyes towards the source of the sound. You let out a little groan when you see your roommate, Beomgyu, glaring at you from your doorway. You reach out to prepare your pillow, “Why are you waking me up so rudely?”

“Cause you told me last night that if you aren’t out of your room by 10:30, to wake you up as rudely as possible.” Beomgyu responds, amusement present in his voice as he watches you struggle to keep your eyes open now that you’re awake.

“I don’t recall the as rude as possible part of that request.”

“I could’ve been a lot meaner by pouring a bucket of ice water on you, but I chose kindness today.” He says, and you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Letting out another groan, you roll over, your back towards Beomgyu as you grab your pillow. He squints at you, “No way you’re about to fall back asleep after bitching about me waking you–”

Beomgyu’s cut off by you chucking your pillow, making direct contact with his face. He sputters and falls backwards onto his ass, eliciting a cackle out of you. He sits up in shock, pillow in hands as he stares at you with a look of betrayal on his face.

“You bitch bastard.” He says quietly, and you smile.

“Good morning~” You greet warmly, and his eyes widen. He shakes his head, “You cannot act all sweet and like an angel after chucking your pillow at my face! What if I died?! What if I fell onto my head, broke my neck, and DIED?!”

You sit up in bed and stretch your arms over your head, feeling very refreshed after attacking your roommate with your least favorite pillow. Reaching out towards your bedside dresser, you grab your phone and check your notifications.

seungkwan🍊: what time did you want to meet at the beach?

You practically shoot up out of bed at the text, quickly typing out a response as you step over Beomgyu who is still laying on the floor. The brunette turns his head, eyes following you as you hurry towards the bathroom.

“Are you going on a date?!” He shouts out from the floor, and you shoot him a glare as you squeeze toothpaste out onto your toothbrush.

“Fuck off.”

“Please try to dress nice! Don’t dress like you usually do.” Beomgyu calls out as he finally gets up off the floor. You pause at his words, sticking your head out of the bathroom to squint at him as he starts to go through your closet.

“Now what do you mean by that?” You ask, to which the brunette just steps out holding an outfit he quickly prepared for you.

Beomgyu has your white t-shirt and sage jersey jacket in one hand, and your favorite pair of wide jeans in the other. He gestures with his chin towards your white sneakers by the door, “Wear those with this fit.”

You purse your lips, curse you Beomgyu for your good fashion sense.

“Okay.” You state, not wanting to compliment him on anything after his jab at your current fashion sense. However, the smirk on his face says that he knows exactly what you’re thinking. Biting the inside of your cheek, you point your toothbrush towards him, “Shut the fuck up.”

You shut the bathroom door afterwards, letting out a small smile when you hear his loud laughter through the door.

“You know, for some reason, I was really hoping you’d bring a beach towel.” You say as the two of you sit on the hot sand, staring out at the people swimming in the cold ocean water. Seungkwan turns to you, a small smile playing on his features, “I was hoping you’d bring one too. I usually mooch off my friends for their beach towels when we have a rare beach day.”

“Damn. You’re just like me.” You joke, and the blonde lets out a short chuckle with a shake of his head. He pats the sand beside him, “Now we’re both sitting on this hot sand. Absolutely rawdogging it. Sand getting in crevices where the sun doesn't shine.”

You bark out a loud laugh, making Seungkwan laugh alongside you. That wasn’t something you ever expected to hear him say in your life, particularly the word rawdogging has you doubling over in laughter.

His laughter dies down shortly after, but you’re still giggling to yourself as it keeps replaying in your head. You even wipe away a stray tear that fell down your cheek, and you turn to look over at Seungkwan, just to see him already staring at you with a small smile on his face.

You blink in surprise, letting out a slight cough into your elbow and standing up from the hot sand. You try to brush away all the particles of sand on your legs, and Seungkwan looks up at you with a curious gaze.

“Well, we’re at the beach. Shouldn’t we go and swim?” You ask and point over to the glistening water, a mischievous smile on your face. Seungkwan raises an eyebrow at you, “Neither of us are wearing swimsuits.”

You squint, “You’re wearing shorts, and I’m wearing shorts–”

“We’re both wearing jeans.” The blonde deadpans, but you continue while waving him off.

“That’s basically swim attire to me!” You exclaim, and Seungkwan stares at you like you’ve grown two heads. Without waiting for a response, you bend down to fold your jeans up to your knees, and then make a b-line straight for the ocean.

“Yn? Please be serious!” You hear him call out from behind you, but you ignore him, continuing to head towards the ocean with a look of determination.

Is this crazy? Yes. Is it disrespectful to go into the ocean wearing a pair of wide leg jeans? Absolutely.

Are you going to stop?

…

No. You’ve already gone this far, how could you back out now?

“They’re crazy.” Seungkwan murmurs to himself when he sees you make it to the water, and he stands up in shock when you step into the ocean without hesitation. “Oh my God.”

The blonde bites back a laugh when he hears you let out a squeal from the cold water. He watches as you go further into the water, but not far enough for the tides to reach your folded jeans. He’s about to call out for you to come back, only to feel the words die in his throat when you turn to face him.

The sun is glistening over the ocean, causing the waves to sparkle as they crash ashore. Your hand is raised up to shield your eyes from the bright sun, and there’s wisps of unruly hair blowing all over your face from the wind. The folded part of your jeans are beginning to get wet and you’re struggling to keep your balance, but there’s a big smile on your face as you call out to the blonde.

“Seungkwan! Come join me!”

The blonde blinks, as if pulled from a trance, eyes still fixed on you as you wade deeper into the water. He doesn't move at first—just watches as you try to keep your balance amidst the waves. He takes note of the way your laughter carries over the wind, the way the sun lights up your face despite the strands of hair whipping wildly around it.

For a moment, he doesn’t answer, unsure whether to interrupt the stillness he’s caught in. Then you start waving again, more animated this time, and he shakes his head, no, at you. A small smile tugs at his lips when you let out an exaggerated sigh, before he braces himself, because the cheeky smile on your face tells him that you’re definitely up to something. He wonders what mischievous thought you have stirring up in your head when you suddenly call out:

“Don’t be a pussy!”

Seungkwan’s jaw drops at the vulgarity of your statement.

He can admit that he may be a lot of things! To list a few: loud, slightly sensitive, perhaps even a little bit… silly.

But Seungkwan is not a pussy.

“Hurry up! Live a little!” You shout towards him, and he presses his lips into a thin line. You watch in delight as he starts muttering to himself, bending down to roll up his jeans and slip off his shoes before walking over to you.

“I can’t believe you’re making me go into the water fully clothed.” Seungkwan grumbles when he’s now standing in front of you, arms crossed as the water barely touches his ankles. You tilt your head with a sly smile, “You could’ve said no, you know? You have free will.”

“You called me a pussy! I practically had no choice in the matter.” He whisper-shouts, eliciting a chuckle out of you. Pursing your lips, you reach your hand out for him to grab, and he glances down at it with a frown.

He looks back up at you, “What?”

“Hold my hand. You’re barely in the water, you should at least get the bottom of your jeans wet.” You explain with a wave of your hand, and he shakes his head with a little laugh.

“I’m good staying right here.” The blonde answers as he raises his hands up for emphasis, and a quick exchange with your conscience occurs.

If you reached out and grabbed his hand to pull him deeper into the water with you, he would certainly get mad at you. And it doesn’t help that this is the first time you’ve ever hung out with the guy you may have secretly admired in high school. This would make a spectacularly bad second impression.

However, you’re standing alone in the water, hand still outstretched towards him like a fool as you get openly rejected. Is it embarrassing for you? Perchance. Are you willing to have him get mad at you in order to not be standing alone in the ocean in wide leg jeans?

Absolutely.

Without a second thought, you grab his hand and yank him towards you. He lets out a loud shout of surprise, eyes wide as he trips onto you, causing the both of you to fall into the water.

You jump out of the water with a gasp that quickly turns into a snort when the blonde practically leaps up from under the ocean. He lets out a cough as he pushes his wet hair back, before turning to look at you with a combination of both shock and pure, utter betrayal etched onto his face.

“There is no way you just did that.” Seungkwan states as he coughs out some more water, and you simply shrug your shoulders, trying to fight back the laugh that’s threatening to escape, “I definitely did.”

The blonde blinks, takes a glance down at his soaking wet attire, and cringes slightly at the feeling of his wet jeans. Letting out a breath, he looks back up at you and tilts his head, “Do you regret it?”

You stare at him for a moment, taking in the way the sunlight spills across his face. The leftover water droplets clinging to his skin catch the light like tiny sparkles, and you find a smile making its way onto your face as you shake your head at him.

“No, I don’t believe I do.”

Seungkwan’s eyes bore into your own, and before he can get distracted by your pretty eye-smile, he lets out a sigh and turns away from you. He stretches his hands out and cracks his knuckles, then attempts to crack his neck by tilting his head from side to side.

Your smile falters slightly at the implication of his sequence of actions, “Oh neptune.”

“Oh neptune is right,” Seungkwan states after he finishes warming up, and you’re already starting to put some distance between the two of you when he lets out a maniacal laugh, “You better run bitch.”

You’re laying on the beach towel that you had bought after Seungkwan chased you around in the water for an hour, staring up at the sky that’s starting to get painted with different shades of pink and purple.

After you yanked Seungkwan into the water with you and the blonde attempted to murder you as revenge, you had bought both of your beach towels at the nearest convenience store as an act of apology. Whereas Seungkwan had bought you each ice cream as a sign of a truce, and now the two of you have been sunbathing for the last few hours, allowing the sun to dry up your clothes.

“That cloud looks like a butt.” Seungkwan points out, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over the two of you. You follow his pointed finger to find an orange cloud slowly floating away, and your eyes narrow at the sight, before agreeing with the blonde, “That’s an ass if I’ve ever seen one.”

You hear him chuckle at your comment, eliciting a small smile out of you as you turn your head to look at him. However, you’re quickly distracted by the beach volleyball game that’s going on, and you sit up on the towel to watch more carefully.

Your eyes follow the ball as it bounces back and forth over the net, and the corner of your lips tilts upwards when it finally hits the sand, watching as the team that scored a point let out a chorus of shouts. Nudging Seungkwan with your knee, you glance down to find him already looking at the volleyball players as you say, “You should join them.”

The blonde stares at the ongoing volleyball game in silence, and you’re about to repeat yourself when he suddenly turns away to look back up at the sky as he mutters, “No thanks.”

You blink at his answer.

In high school, Boo Seungkwan would never turn down an opportunity to play volleyball. It was almost as if the sport was a need for him—just like food, air, and water. Whenever the chance to play volleyball arose, he was always the first one to join.

And his team was always the one to win.

So now here you are, 8 years later, staring down at Seungkwan in surprise after hearing him turn down a game of beach volleyball.

“Why not? Whichever team you join would win since they’d have you as their teammate.” You say with a small smile, but the blonde just shakes his head, continuing to stare up at the sky with a faraway look to his eyes. A slight frown takes over your features at his indifference, and you press your lips into a thin line as an awkward silence settles over the two of you.

“You seem like a different person.” You murmur after a moment, trying to decipher what emotion is hidden beneath his gaze as he lets out a breath.

Seungkwan doesn’t turn his head to look at you, but he quietly asks, “What kind of person was I before?”

You stare at him, watching the way his eyes trail from side to side as he follows the clouds while you think to yourself.

From the dark eyebags he’s worn each day you’ve seen him, to the slight limp in his step after running with you in the water, and his disinterest in the sport you watched him fall in love with all those years ago.

“Right,” You mutter, turning away from him as you look up at the sky yourself, “I must’ve been mistaken.”

Silence falls over the two of you, and it lingers up until you go your separate ways. There’s a promise to reach out once you each make it home, a promise that is later fulfilled as soon as you enter your apartment. Your phone buzzes shortly after your text is sent, and a small smile graces your features when you glance down at the screen.

seungkwan🍊: good just made it home too i’ll see you tomorrow ?

You quickly type out a yes, before making a b-line to the bathroom in order to take a shower. However, as you lather your head with shampoo, your thoughts continue to stay on the faraway look to the blonde’s eyes.

You carry the full trash can towards the garbage, letting out a little grumble as you try not to get anything on your uniform. Making it to the bottom step of the stairwell, you turn the corner, just to let out a squeak and turn back around to hide behind the wall.

Heart pounding, you cautiously peek your head out to make sure your eyes aren't deceiving you. But they aren’t. Your jaw drops when you find Seungkwan standing in front of a girl from another class, her face bright red as she holds out a letter towards him.

“I just wanted to throw out the trash.” You murmur, wondering how you’re supposed to walk past them without getting noticed.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you peek at them again to find the girl’s letter still in her hands, but tears now flooding her eyes as she stares at the boy in front of her.

“I’m sorry,” Seungkwan finally speaks in a soft voice, and you hold back a gasp at the scene unfolding before you, “I don’t think I’ll have time to be in a relationship once we graduate. I’m honored that you like someone like me, but you’ll find someone better.”

You watch as her bottom lip quivers, and you almost feel terrible until she cries: “But I only want you!”

Your jaw drops in horror when she starts bawling, quickly snapping you out of your stalkerish behavior. Seungkwan reaches out to comfort her, and you find that this might be your only chance to sneak past them.

Grabbing the trash can tightly, you quickly start heading towards the garbage and recycling, only to freeze in your tracks when you suddenly hear:

“Yn!”

Your head whips around, watching in both slight horror and awe as Seungkwan jogs over to you.

“He knows my name?” You whisper to yourself in shock. Your eyes stay wide as he suddenly appears in front of you, and before you can even find your voice, he’s already reached out and taken the heavy trash can out of your grasp.

“I almost forgot that it was my turn to do the trash today. You didn’t have to take it out on your own!” Seungkwan lies with a pleading look to his eyes that absolutely does not match the smile he’s forced onto his face. He has an expression that is screaming: Please save me.

The corner of your lips twitches upwards as you attempt to use your best acting skills, taking a step forward to guide him in the direction of the trash can, “It was way too full and everyone was starting to complain. I decided to be a good natured human and take it out since you weren’t in class.”

Seungkwan almost lets out a sigh of relief when he finds that you’re going along with the lie. He chuckles and tries to look apologetic, “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a treat after to make up for my forgetfulness.”

You let out a soft smile as you turn to look at him. You’d like to say this smile is a part of your act, but you know it’s not true. When the two of you finally make it to the trash can, you sneakily glance back to see if the girl is still there, and feel a bit of relief when you see that she’s gone.

“She’s not there anymore.” You tell Seungkwan after he throws the trash into the bin, and he practically collapses to his knees. He claps his hands together and looks up towards the sky, “God, I may not be religious, but I am asking you to let me finish my senior year without having to reject anyone else like that.”

You giggle at his dramatics, “What a privileged prayer to be making. Do you know how many guys are praying for the exact opposite of what you just asked for?”

Seungkwan snorts at your statement, and he starts leading the way back to your guy's classroom. You grin and follow after him, ignoring the way your heart is thumping in your chest as the two of you walk side by side.

This is the first time you guys have ever talked.

“I feel like it should be common knowledge that I’m only interested in both academics and volleyball. I always feel bad when I have to reject someone’s feelings, especially when they react like that.” Seungkwan explains, and you nod your head in understanding.

You and the class president have been in the same school since middle school, and you’ve watched his skills and passion in volleyball evolve over the years. You’ve admired him from a distance, always rooting for his ventures in the sport.

“That makes sense. It’s also a more stressful time for you since you’re getting scouted now, aren’t you?”

Seungkwan nods his head, letting out a short laugh, “Yeah. It’s around the time players will start getting offers from universities, so I keep frantically checking both the mailbox and my email whenever I can.”

You both pause outside of your classroom’s doors, having not realized you’ve already made it back to class during your conversation. Turning to look at the class president, you see the slight furrow to his eyebrows as he stares at the closed door of your class.

You don’t like seeing him look so anxious.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you nudge Seungkwan’s shoulder. He turns his head to look at you, “I’m not sure how much comfort or reassurance this will offer you, but they would be crazy to not scout you. You’re the best player on our team, and they chose to watch you at our games for a reason.”

Seungkwan stares at you for a moment, and you feel a bit of relief when you see the furrow to his eyebrows slowly melt away.

He eventually gives you a small smile, one that reaches his eyes as he softly says, “Thank you, yn.”

You nod your head, ignoring the warmth to your face as you raise both your fists up and say, “Fighting!”

“Here’s your latte.” You’re snapped out of your daydream once your coffee is placed in front of you, and you look up to give Seungkwan a smile, “Thank you.”

He nods his head and sits across from you, taking a sip of his iced americano and grinning in satisfaction. You find yourself frowning at the sight of the battery acid he’s drinking, “I can’t believe you like iced americanos.”

“Why? Do you like hot americanos instead?” The blonde asks, and you shake your head as you take a sip of your latte, “I don’t like americanos in general. It’s an espresso shot and water. That’s a recipe for me to shit my pants.”

Seungkwan lets out a chuckle, “Says the one who gets a latte. That’s an espresso shot and milk. Aren’t you lactose intolerant?”

You press your lips into a thin line and turn away from him, “I am not answering questions at this time.”

The blonde guffaws at your answer, and you have to bite back a smile to keep up your serious persona. Turning to glance at him, you take another sip of your delicious latte and grimace when he takes a large gulp of his iced americano. You point to it, “You don’t even add at least one sugar? You just get the espresso shot and water?”

“And I’m proud.” He answers with a sly smile, and you shudder in disgust. You set down your coffee to raise both your fists up and go, “Fighting!”

You watch as his eyebrows furrow slightly at your action, tilting his head as he leans back into his seat to look at you. You raise an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“Nothing. I just felt like that wasn’t the first time I heard you say that.” Seungkwan says, still trying to search his memory as he takes a sip of his coffee.

A small smile takes over your features at the distant memory you were just reflecting on, and you shrug your shoulders, “It’s something I say pretty often.”

The blonde stares at you for a moment longer, before nodding his head and seemingly letting go of trying to remember. There’s a loud ring of laughter that echoes through the cafe, and you both turn to find a small group of high schoolers joking around as they try to evenly split a cake slice.

“Can’t believe Spring break is almost over.” You mutter. It’s the fourth day of your guys break, so you only have three more days of freedom before getting back to work as a teacher. Seungkwan nods his head in agreement, letting out a low whistle.

“Tell me about it. I’m not ready. I want to continue sleeping in for another week.” Seungkwan responds with a sigh, and you grin, “What should we do with our last three days of freedom?”

The blonde thinks to himself for a second, before turning back towards you, “I’ve been interested in sourdough these days.”

“Sourdough.” You repeat, having not expected that answer at all.

Seungkwan nods his head, “I’ve been getting a lot of sourdough starter and sourdough videos on my timeline, especially in the middle of the night when I’m doom scrolling. Safe to say that it piqued my interest.”

You snort and lean back into your seat as you take a sip of your latte, “Alright, Shakespeare.”

“What? Is it a crime to use the word pique?”

“It’s a bit silly to hear it in the same sentence as sourdough and doom scrolling.” You say with a giggle, watching as the blonde lets out a smile. He waves a hand at you, “So are you down to bake sourdough?”

You grin and nod your head, “Yeah. Actually, my roommate also fell down the rabbit hole of sourdough starters and sourdough videos, so he made his own sourdough starter.”

“Woah, is it alive?” Seungkwan asks, and you nod again, “Yeah. He named him Soobin for some reason. I think it’s because he discovered that punching and slamming the dough onto the table is good for it, so he named it after his friend.”

“I know a Soobin,” Seungkwan states as he taps his chin, “I don’t think I would punch or chokeslam the Soobin I know, though.”

“Beomgyu and Soobin have a love-hate relationship.” You say, and the blonde’s eyes widen, “Wait. Is your roommate Beomgyu? Like, Choi Beomgyu?”

You nod with a smile, “Yes, why? Do you know him?”

“Yes! I met him through Soobin back in college. Soobin and I were both on SNU’s volleyball team.” Seungkwan explains, and your eyes widen in disbelief.

“Choi Soobin? Tall and cute, but not a sliver of an athletic bone on his body… on SNU’s volleyball team?” You clarify, and Seungkwan tilts his head at you in confusion.

“Soobin’s really good at volleyball.”

“But I’ve never once seen him make a basket when the boys played basketball?”

Seungkwan gives you a deadpan expression, “Volleyball and basketball are two very different sports, yn.”

“Okay, yeah! But how can you be super good at one ball sport, and terrible at another?!”

Seungkwan sips the last of his iced americano and places his glass down onto the table. He reaches out to tap your forehead with his pointer finger, and you swat his hand away with a glare.

“Come on, let’s make sourdough out of Soobin.”

“Bamgyu~ your best friend and perfect roommate is back home.” You call out in a singsong voice, stepping out of your sneakers and putting on your slippers. Seungkwan gently closes your front door and locks it, before slipping out of his own shoes.

“Yn! You’re lucky I just fed Soobin last night. That greedy fucking bastard. You know, this is the type of greed they warned about in the bible—Boo Seungkwan?” Beomgyu rounds the corner and pauses mid-rant when he looks up from the floor to see Seungkwan standing behind you.

He glances between you and the blonde, before he lets out a dramatic gasp, “Oh! Is Boo Seungkwan the one you went on a date with the other–AH!”

You run up in horror and immediately put him into a chokehold, cutting him off from finishing his sentence. The brunette slaps your arm that’s now tightly wrapped around his neck, and you gently lower him to the floor. Seungkwan lets out a small smile, seemingly unphased by your violence as he waves at your struggling roommate.

“Beomgyu! Long time no see!”

“H-Help… help me…” Beomgyu chokes out, gasping for air as you give Seungkwan a big smile from the floor. You nod your head in the direction of the kitchen, “You can go wash your hands in there~”

The blonde gives you a thumbs up and heads over towards the kitchen. You watch until he’s behind the kitchen island, and finally release your roommate from the chokehold. Beomgyu gasps for air, letting out a cough as he clutches onto his neck and puts distance between the two of you. He points at you in horror, “What the fuck?! I almost died—you fucking rat bastard!”

“You’re the one who doesn’t know how to watch your mouth?! I had to do what was best to save myself.” You whisper-shout, and Beomgyu continues to stare at you with wide eyes. He waves his hands around, “You could’ve, I don’t know, told me to shut the fuck up like a normal human being?!”

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it, you freak.” You state as you stand up from the floor. He opens his mouth to argue, but you point at him with an accusatory finger, “I saw your likes on Twitter before they went private. Don’t forget that we used to read the same manga, too.”

You watch as his mouth slowly closes, and he clears his throat. He nods his head, and takes your outstretched hand, allowing you to help him stand back up.

“Noted.” Beomgyu says, and you bite back a chuckle before the two of you head over towards the kitchen. You turn the corner to find Seungkwan staring at Soobin the sourdough starter with a look of awe on his face, and your roommate lets out a smirk.

“I know, pretty sick.”

“Does Soobin know that you named a sourdough starter after him?” Seungkwan asks, and Beomgyu shakes his head, “No, I think he’d kill me if he knew that I beat him in dough form.”

“Ah.” Seungkwan states, and you have to hold in your laughter. You nudge the blonde, “Is there a specific recipe that you were looking at? Or should we just go for it?”

“You guys know that the dough will need to be proofed, right? Seungkwan might need to sleepover and you can finish baking Soobin in the morning.”

Your mouth drops open slightly, having not known the intricate process of baking sourdough. Seungkwan, on the other hand, nods his head, “Yeah, I’ve been watching a lot of videos. I don’t want to intrude by sleeping over, though. I didn’t even bring anything.”

“You can just borrow my clothes. We can all hangout and watch a movie, or something.” Beomgyu says, and you nod your head in agreement, “Yeah, you live pretty far from here. I’d hate for you to have to make that commute.”

The blonde purses his lips, before nodding, “Alright. As long as the two of you are okay with it.”

You and Beomgyu exchange a glance, which leads to you elbowing your roommate in the gut when he knowingly wiggles his eyebrows at you. He lets out a slight grunt, before you both turn back towards Seungkwan and give him a thumbs up.

“Okay, let’s get this bread.”

“Who knew beating the fuck out of Soobin would be such a stress reliever.” You say as you flop down onto the couch, and Beomgyu snaps his fingers in agreement. Seungkwan chuckles, “Maybe we should start saying Soobin the sourdough starter instead of just Soobin. A stranger might think we’re actually assaulting someone.”

You immediately sit up and point at Seungkwan, “I would never beat Soobin up. That’s my princess.”

“What about me?” You glance at your roommate on the floor in front of the couch, who’s cupping his face with his hands and batting his eyelashes at you. You grimace and push his face away, and he lets out a loud whine.

“You don’t love me the way I love you.” Beomgyu grunts, making Seungkwan grin as he sits beside you on the couch. Rolling your eyes, you pick up the remote and start scrolling through Netflix to try and find a movie to watch.

“Woah. They added Interstellar to Netflix?” Your roommate exclaims when he sees the popular movie, and you nod your head in surprise, “I guess so. Should we watch it?”

“Nah, we should watch something funny. I think Interstellar would be too damaging.” Seungkwan adds as he makes himself comfy on the couch. You nod in agreement, scrolling until you find the remote landing on the movie White Chicks. Your eyes fall on the red box beneath the movie poster, reading the words:

Leaving Soon

There’s a shift in the air, and Beomgyu slowly turns his head to look at you, as does Seungkwan. The three of you exchange a glance, and through impeccable team synergy, you all decide to watch the movie White Chicks without having to say a single word.

“I’d say it was a sign from God to watch the movie.” Beomgyu finally speaks once the movie starts, and you let out a snort.

You attempt to make yourself comfortable as the movie goes on. Shifting on the couch, you purse your lips when you take note of the seating situation: Beomgyu is sprawled out on the floor in front of you, and Seungkwan is right beside you—effectively blocking any chance you had of stretching your legs out. With a sigh, you draw your knees to your chest and rest your chin on top of them.

The blonde takes notice of your discomfort shortly after, especially since you kept shifting out the corner of his eye. He leans towards you and whispers, “Are you not comfortable?”

You glance at him just as Beomgyu lets out a loud laugh, and offer a small shrug, “A bit. I just want to stretch my legs, but I’ll live.”

Seungkwan takes a quick look at your surroundings, quickly understanding why you’re stuck in a pretzel stance. Without a word, he rests his feet onto the floor and pats his knees, looking at you expectantly. Your eyes widen at the idea of skinship and you quickly shake your head, no, but the blonde pats his legs a second time.

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind sitting like this.” You whisper, and Seungkwan shrugs his shoulders, “I’d rather you be comfortable than uncomfortable.”

The warmth that floods your chest is immediate. After a moment, you tentatively stretch your legs out and rest them onto his knees, trying very hard not to overthink your position. You try to turn your attention back to the movie, but it’s quite hard to focus when Seungkwan’s hands are lightly patting your shins in a rhythm far too gentle for your nerves.

Beomgyu, that little shit, turns his head to shoot you a smirk after eavesdropping on your whole interaction. You send him a death glare. He blows you a kiss, before turning back towards the movie and letting out a loud laugh. You fight back the urge to reach out and grab a handful of your roommate’s hair, instead taking a deep breath and focusing on the movie again.

You try your best to watch White Chicks like a normal human being after the whole interaction, you really do.

But it’s difficult when all your brain can focus on is the fact that your legs are resting on Seungkwan’s lap—and he’s been gently tapping his fingers on your shins for thirty straight minutes.

It’s only when the infamous fitting room scene comes on and Seungkwan finally stops the gentle patting that you feel yourself able to breathe again. The three of you laugh and joke throughout the rest of the film, and when the movie credits come on, Beomgyu lifts up the remote to return to the home page.

“I forgot how much I love this movie–” Beomgyu starts as he turns to look at you and Seungkwan, only to pause when his eyes land on the guy beside you. Raising an eyebrow at his reaction, you follow his line of sight, only to find Seungkwan fast asleep on the couch.

“Damn. He was laughing just a minute ago.” You murmur, and Beomgyu nods his head. His eyes trail down to find Seungkwan’s hands still resting over your shins, and he takes a moment to take in the sight, before turning to you with a shit-eating grin.

“Shut the fuck up.” You state, and his shit-eating grin turns into an expression of mock offense, “What the fuck? I didn’t even say anything!”

“Your stupid face says enough.”

“I can’t win in this household.” Beomgyu mutters as he stands up from the floor and stretches his arms over his head. You take this moment to slowly remove your legs from Seungkwan’s lap, with Beomgyu helping you transition off the couch.

You let out a breath, crossing your arms as you look at the blonde fast asleep. You tilt your head at the same time the brunette tilts his head towards you, “He didn’t even brush his teeth or change into the pajamas we offered.”

“Should we wake him up?”

“No… let’s just place the pajamas and toothbrush on the coffee table and adjust him on the couch so he’s more comfortable.” You answer, and Beomgyu nods his head in agreement. You walk away to grab the spare toothbrush and clothes, while Beomgyu goes to get the pillows and blankets. 

You return with the toothbrush and clothes right as Beomgyu finishes fluffing a pillow and draping a blanket over the couch. Stepping carefully around the coffee table, you crouch down and place a hand gently on Seungkwan’s shoulders, guiding him slowly onto his back.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t woken up during any of this,” you whisper as Beomgyu moves to lift Seungkwan’s legs onto the couch. The brunette handles him with care, cradling each leg as if he’s done this before. For the first time, Seungkwan stirs—his brows knitting together as his body shifts on the cushions.

You watch closely as his legs move slightly into what looks like a more comfortable position, though the frown on his face remains. Biting the inside of your cheek, you tentatively reach out and carefully rub the crease between his brows until his expression eventually relaxes.

Beomgyu lets out a low whistle, “I tried to be careful with his leg, but I guess not careful enough.”

You pause mid-motion, blinking, “His leg?”

Beomgyu glances at you, nodding as if you’d just asked whether the sky was blue. He takes the blanket and places it over Seungkwan, then steps back with a soft sigh. But when he turns and sees the confused look still etched on your face, his expression falters. He blinks. Then blinks again.

“You don’t know?” 

“What am I supposed to know? Seungkwan and I only reunited a week ago, and before that we had spoken a total of like… two times.” You explain, and Beomgyu presses his lips in a thin line. He turns to look at Seungkwan once more, before turning to you and pulling you towards your room.

He makes you stand in front of your bedroom door, gestures in the direction of where Seungkwan is sleeping, before stating, “Frankly, it’s not my story to tell–”

“Bitch. You pulled me aside just to say that?” You ask with a deadpan expression, and the brunette shushes you.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” he gives you a pointed look, “It’s not my story to tell, so I’m only going to tell you the gist of it. Seungkwan tore his ACL in his senior year of volleyball at SNU, and it completely ended his volleyball career.”

Your heart sinks.

Boo Seungkwan? The same Seungkwan who lived and breathed volleyball? Whose energy lit up every game you ever watched?

Flashes of him come back in an instant—his bright smile whenever he played, his excited shouts when his team would successfully run a play, his laughter that echoed off the gym walls, the loud cheers from the crowd whenever he’d score a point. All that joy, that purpose, gone in a moment.

“He… he what?” You whisper, almost to yourself.

Beomgyu just shakes his head gently, “That’s all I should say. The rest is his story to share, not mine. I’m just happy to see him smiling again at least.”

The brunette stares at the look of something akin to both horror and sadness etched onto your face, and he can only fondly pat the top of your head. He squeezes your shoulder, “You should go to sleep. We have important business tomorrow. As in, baking Soobin tomorrow morning.”

You can only muster a tight-lipped smile, and Beomgyu turns and heads towards his room. Your eyes trail over to Seungkwan’s sleeping figure once more, unable to believe what your roommate just told you.

You saw the signs in the time the two of you have spent together, but you’re still unable to believe how harshly Seungkwan’s dream was ripped from his grasp. The late nights working at the convenience store, the dark circles under his eyes, and the detachment he showed when watching the beach volleyball game—it all makes sense now. All the signs were there.

But you still can’t quite believe it.

The dream he’d built his life around, ripped away without warning. The thing that had shaped so much of who he was, and now it’s gone.

A sharp ache lodges in your chest, and you shake your head, trying to push the weight of it all away as you step into your room.

You carefully weave through the crowd to get to your seat on the bleachers, and you let out a big smile when you see one of your few friends, Mark, waving you over. Hurrying to your spot, you plop down into the seat he saved for you, and hand him the bag of candy he asked for.

“Oh hell yeah! I’m glad they didn’t sell out of the gummy clusters, they’re usually the first to go whenever we have a home game.” He tells you as he opens the bag, and you nod your head in agreement as he holds out the candy to you.

Taking a piece, you toss it into your mouth as you explain, “Just so you know, I almost fought for my life getting you that candy. I didn’t think it would be that busy since it’s about to be the fourth set, but holy shit.”

Mark laughs and pats your head affectionately, “Well, thank you for going head first into battle for my favorite candy.”

“It’s only fair since you saved us seats earlier.”

“Well, it’s the last home game of the season. I figured you’d want to see the love of your life playing his last home game–”

“Shut your whore mouth?!” You whisper-shout, and your friend guffaws at your reaction. You have half the mind to start choking him out, but you do appreciate having at least one good friend in your school who you can confide in.

“I told you that in secrecy, and it was only told because you caught on to my heart eyes.”

“Yn, anyone can catch onto your heart eyes if they just glanced at you whenever the man called us to stand for the morning greeting.”

“You know what? I don’t need this right now. The fourth set is about to–” You’re cut off by the sound of cheers, and you immediately snap your head towards the court. Your heart practically leaps out of your chest when you see Seungkwan walk out while laughing with his teammate, Mingyu, before going straight to his position.

“Exhibit A.” Mark whispers into your ear, and you blindly slap his stomach, making him double over.

You watch as your team gets the first serve, and with bated breath, your eyes remain on the ball as it successfully gets served to the other team.

You watch in fascination as the game goes on, feeling a smile form on your face whenever Seungkwan lets out a cheer from a successful play. The crowd gets noticeably louder as your team wracks up points over the rival team, and you’re sure your heart rate is in the 100s from how close the game is.

Your eyes follow Seungkwan across the court, completely entranced by how his passion radiates through every movement. He plays like he’s part of the game itself—from the unwavering focus in his gaze, to the way his smile lights up whenever he scores, to the joy in his voice as he cheers on his teammates even when he’s subbed out. There’s no mistaking how much he loves this.

Your heart swells watching him—class president, volleyball captain, the sun around which so many orbit.

The crowd gets louder as the ball is kept alive longer than expected. You and Mark are on your feet now, having just watched your team’s libero dive over a table to save the ball. Hands clasped over your head, you brace yourself as the opposing team sets up for a block.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter under your breath.

Then, just as quickly, everything shifts. A feint. A fake spike. And suddenly, Seungkwan is high above the net.

For a breathless second, time seems to stop. The noise of the crowd fades. The bright lights of the gym are shining onto the court, and all you can see is the way the lights illuminate Seungkwan’s form suspended mid-air, arm raised as the ball is passed to him. He strikes.

The ball slams into the floor untouched. Point.

25–20.

The scoreboard confirms it, but the deafening roar from the stands says it first. You and Mark jump and scream, pure joy coursing through your veins. Your eyes immediately search for Seungkwan, finding him at the center of the court, his smile wide and bright as his teammates pile onto him.

“Exhibit B,” Mark grins beside you, nudging your arm. “You practically have hearts shooting out of your eyes.”

You don’t even bother defending yourself this time, a warm smile on your face as you watch the team toss Seungkwan into the air in celebration.

Because all you can think is: he’s so happy, and he is so dearly loved.

And that’s more than enough for you.

Your eyes slowly open, the sunlight shining in through the cracks of the curtains. The corner of your lips quirk upwards, warmth lingering in your chest at the fond memory. Letting out a yawn, you roll over to check the time, only to pause when you hear the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen.

“You’re telling me that this whole time I’ve known you and Soobin, that Soobin actually won that League game?”

“Yeah. I think since my frontal lobe is developing, I’ve decided to be truthful.”

You roll your eyes at Beomgyu bringing up that League game once again. In the years you’ve known him and Soobin, it’s brought up at least once a month.

Grabbing your phone, you step out of bed and open your bedroom door to find Seungkwan and Beomgyu carefully putting flour over the dough.

“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to wake up. We’re about to score Soobin, yn.” Your roommate calls out when he glances up from Soobin the dough, and Seungkwan looks away from the dough at the mention of your name. You watch as the blonde’s eyes scan the room before landing on you, and you feel your heart thump against your chest at the warm smile that appears on his face.

“Good morning, yn.” Seungkwan greets, and you smile, “Good morning.”

“Good morning Beomgyu, my favorite person in the whole wide world.” Beomgyu interrupts in a high-pitch voice, clearly trying to impersonate you, and your smile turns into a death glare, “Awe~ thank you, yn. You’re so kind to me.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that? You should definitely know it. You absolute son of a bitch. ” You deadpan as you walk over towards the bathroom to brush your teeth, and the brunette lets out a cackle before chatting with Seungkwan again.

Grabbing your toothbrush, you start to brush your teeth and head over to the kitchen to watch them score Soobin the sourdough. You stand beside Seungkwan and sleepily lean against his shoulder as the two of you watch Beomgyu whip out the blade.

You fail to notice the small smile that graces Seungkwan’s face from your initiated skinship.

“Do you trust Beomgyu enough to do this?” The blonde leans in to ask, and right before you get the chance to answer, your roommate lets out a maniacal laugh at the thought of scoring Soobin.

Soobin the dough.

You shake your head, no, and the blonde chuckles.

You stand together in a comfortable silence as your roommate seemingly locks in and starts etching a design onto the top of the dough. You have to hide how impressed you are at the delicate design Beomgyu scores into the dough. You didn’t think he had it in him, but then again, he’s already baked quite a few sourdough loaves.

As you try to reflect on Beomgyu’s previous loaves of bread, you almost inhale all the toothpaste foam in your mouth when Seungkwan suddenly rests his head on top of yours.

Beomgyu lets out a satisfactory smile once he finishes the score design, and turns to look at the two of you for praise, just to freeze at the sight resting before him. You’re still frozen as well, but even moreso now that you feel like you just got caught.

He stares at the two of you for a moment, before that sly smile you dread makes its way onto his face.

“Well, this is cute.” Your roommate states quite matter of factly as he gestures between the two of you. It takes you an egregious amount of energy to not spit the toothpaste foam directly onto his face as you instead step away to go and rinse out your mouth in the bathroom.

“I should just kill that guy.” You mutter to yourself after drying your mouth with a towel. Stepping out of the bathroom, you walk over to the kitchen to watch as Seungkwan places Soobin the sourdough into the oven.

“Wow~ I hope Soobin tastes good.” Beomgyu says in a singsong voice after the blonde shuts the oven door. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing at the other way you can interpret that statement.

Seungkwan chuckles, however, and corrects your roommate, “Soobin the sourdough.”

“Tomato, potato.” The brunette says with a wave of his hand, making you roll your eyes before realizing that Seungkwan is wearing the sleeping clothes Beomgyu offered, “Oh! You’re wearing pajamas. Does that mean you woke up last night?”

Seungkwan glances down and laughs as he nods his head, “Yeah, I woke up in the middle of the night feeling gross in my jeans. Thank you guys for helping me lay down and stuff…”

But you barely catch the end of his sentence.

Your gaze has already drifted to the long surgical scar resting along his knee. It cuts sharply against his skin, a quiet but jarring reminder of everything Beomgyu told you.

Your chest tightens.

It’s not fair. Why him? Of all people?

“Yn!”

You jolt, immediately looking up to find both boys staring at you, “Sorry! I completely zoned out, what was that?”

“Seungkwan asked if you wanted to go pick up coffee at the place downstairs so we can drink it as we eat Soobin.” Beomgyu explains.

You bite the inside of your cheek, silently hoping that the pretty blonde didn’t notice you staring at his surgery scar. But when your eyes meet his, you know that he did.

He gives you a small smile that doesn’t quite match his gaze, “I can go by myself if you guys want. I just wanted to treat you guys for being such great hosts–”

“No!” You cut off, making Seungkwan and Beomgyu pause at your sudden outburst. Clearing your throat, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and gesture towards the door, “I can go with you. I wouldn’t want you to carry Beomgyu’s gigantic diabetic drink by yourself.”

“Okay–what the hell. I just breathed.” The brunette says in offense, but you don’t even shoot him a glance as your eyes stay on Seungkwan.

The blonde lets out a breathy chuckle and gives you a thumbs up, “Sounds good. What drink did you want though, Gyu?”

You shoot your roommate a pointed look, already knowing what his ass is going to ask for. He seemingly ignores your gaze as he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, looking up at the ceiling as he mutters, “Cinnamon shortbread latte. Extra vanilla syrup… please.”

You slap a hand over your mouth to fight the laugh that threatens to escape, and he raises his hand to flip you off in response. Seungkwan bites back a laugh as well, turning and heading towards the door, and you follow after him.

As you slip into your slippers and grab your keys, Seungkwan steps into his sneakers and throws a jacket on. The two of you leave the apartment in a silence that feels heavier than it should.

Inside the elevator, you finally speak, “Did you sleep well?”

“Oh—yeah. Your guys’ couch is very comfortable so I practically slept like a baby.” Seungkwan answers with a small laugh, and you exhale in relief as you give him a smile.

“I’m glad. Beomgyu and I were surprised to find you fast asleep as soon as the movie ended.” You say with a giggle as the two of you step out of the elevator. Seungkwan chuckles and nods his head, holding the loppy door open for you before falling into step at your side.

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

You nod, but hesitate for a second, “Will you be okay for your shift at the convenience store tonight? I almost forgot that you’re working the night shift.”

Seungkwan waves it off, “I’ll be alright. Nothing I’m not used to, don’t worry.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, but decide to let it go.

At the café, you order and sit side-by-side on the tall stools by the window as you wait for your order. Despite the light conversation, you find your thoughts drifting to the long scar you caught a glimpse of, and everything Beomgyu told you last night. You have to force yourself not to look at Seungkwan’s leg, and instead stare out the window.

“What are you thinking about?” Seungkwan asks in a soft voice, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turn to look at the blonde, “What?”

“It’s just, you’ve been frowning since we sat down. Are you okay?” You press your lips into a thin line at the fact that he noticed. Feeling a bit embarrassed at how you’re not able to hide your emotions, you just shrug your shoulders, “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” Seungkwan presses, and you nod your head. However, you seemingly couldn’t get the slight frown to leave as the pretty blonde sighs and reaches out, gently rubbing his thumb over the crease between your eyebrows.

“You’re not very good at hiding your feelings, you know?” He teases lightly, and a small smile escapes you at that.

You’re about to joke with him when the sound of your order number is called, and you move to hop off the stool, but Seungkwan stops you, “I got it.”

You freeze mid-scoot when you see him actively trying to be careful as he steps down from the high stool, favoring his leg. Your eyes dart to his scar, unintentionally this time, and your breath catches in your throat.

“I got it,” you say quickly, already moving. “No worries. Just… stay here.”

Without waiting for his response, you walk over and grab the drink carrier. Giving your thanks to the barista, you turn around and head back to Seungkwan, coming to a slow pace when you see the hard expression on his face.

“What?” You ask in a quiet voice, and he stares at you in silence for a moment. His eyes are unreadable as he looks at you, and you can’t help the feeling of guilt that washes over you.

“Seungkwan, what is it?” You ask again, and he just lets out a sigh, turning away to scratch the back of his neck in frustration. Without a word, he takes the drink carrier from your grasp, and heads for the door. You trail behind in silence.

Outside, the air feels heavier than it did before.

“Seungkwan?” You call again, softly.

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk after you call his name once more, and he turns to you, frustration etched across his features.

“Just because you found out about my injury, doesn’t mean you need to pity me.” Seungkwan tells you, anger laced into his voice.

Your eyes widen, “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant to do at all–”

“Well, that’s what you did,” he snaps. “You embarrassed me there, you know? I’m still physically capable, so I can get my own coffee. I don’t need your pity.”

His voice isn’t loud, but it cuts through you. You take a step back, eyebrows furrowed as you stare into his eyes.

“Why are you being so hostile over this one thing I did?” you ask, voice rising. “You’re not even giving me the chance to apologize or explain.”

Seungkwan shakes his head, “I’m not being hostile.”

“You totally are!” You scoff.

Silence stretches between you. You're both too annoyed to even attempt to hear the other out.

After a moment, he finally lets out a breath and hands you the drink carrier, “You can have my drink. I’m going home. Tell Beomgyu I had an emergency or something—I don’t know.”

“What the hell? You’re going to leave over this?” You ask, and he gives you a dry chuckle.

“You were right. I should rest before my night shift tonight, so yeah. I am leaving over this. I’ll see you tomorrow, or something.” Seungkwan says, before turning around and walking away without looking back.

And you’re left alone standing in the middle of the sidewalk with three coffees—one normal, one diabetic, and one that tastes like battery acid—and a sharp ache blooming in your chest.

“Chat, am I the asshole?” You mutter on Beomgyu’s floor, holding his plushie to your chest as he plays League on his computer. You hear him insult Soobin through his mic, before shooting you a quick glance.

“I don’t think you’re an asshole, per se. I can see where he is coming from, though.”

You sniffle, “What does Soobin think?”

Beomgyu lets out a breath, before quickly fixing his settings so that Soobin’s voice comes out of his pc’s speakers instead of his headset, “Yn can hear you now, Soobin.”

“I don’t think you’re an asshole, yn.”

You can’t fight the pout from forming on your lips as you actively hold back the tears threatening to spill.

High school you could never imagine fighting Seungkwan like that—let alone fathom being close enough to hurt each other like this. Friends who sometimes feel like something more… but you won’t let yourself go there right now because:

you don’t want to be delusional

you’re still a bit mad at him

why the hell would Boo Seungkwan, your first love, ever feel something for you?

“Princess, am I going to hell?” You ask, feeling a bit more sad at your trail of thoughts as you clutch the plushie tighter to your chest. Beomgyu and Soobin answer in perfect unison, “Of course not, yn.”

“Shut the fuck up Beomgyu! I was talking to Soobin! You already know he’s my princess, not you!” You cry out, flopping backwards onto the floor. Your roommate bites his bottom lip, visibly holding back a retort. You’re sad over fighting with your first love, so he should be nice to you. Probably.

Still, he mutters under his breath, “I should just fucking kill myself.”

“I think you guys just need to talk it out,” Soobin says gently. “It was a bit of a silly fight, so you guys should be able to resolve it as long as you talk.”

Your pout deepens at his words, and you sniffle. The sound of a potential cry incoming causes Beomgyu to freeze.

A tear finally does escape past your eye, and Beomgyu immediately dies in the game.

“Ain’t no way you just died like that.” Soobin says.

The brunette doesn’t respond. He turns to look at you, eyes wide as he takes in the sight of you trying to hold back tears, and ultimately failing. He feels his own lips form into a pout at the pitiful sight.

“Yn,” Beomgyu says gently, “Soobin’s right. You guys just need to talk, okay?”

And that’s it.

You just about start wailing at your roommate talking to you in a gentle tone. Beomgyu flinches back in horror, and you hear Soobin start panicking and asking if you’re okay in-between a chorus of:

oh shit! son of a bitch?! beomgyu what the eff i need support?!

Your roommate rushes off his gaming chair and sits on the floor beside you, patting your head as you cry it all out. He’s practically holding back tears of his own, feeling like a strong empath at the moment, you suppose.

“I-It’s just not fair? How can the universe rip Seungkwan’s dream right out from under him like that? That’s so not fair! He of all people deserved to fulfill his dream!” You cry, voice cracking, and Beomgyu turns his head away so that he’s not looking at you while continuing to pat your head.

“It’s not fair. You’re right, yn. It was probably the most heartbreaking thing to watch him go through during that time.” Soobin agrees, and you almost start crying even harder as you reflect on your argument, realizing that you have been pitying him.

You hiccup through another sob and turn to your roommate, looking at the back of his coconut-shaped head.

“I am the asshole.” You whisper through your tears.

“I think you’re both the asshole. Asshole is kind of a strong term though. Maybe you guys are more like, I don’t know… baby bastards.” Beomgyu suggests, still facing the white wall as he pats your head.

“Listen,” Soobin continues, “it’s not my story to tell. But yeah, Seungkwan went through a lot. It still hits him emotionally to this day, so I’m not surprised that he reacted like that. You guys just need to talk.”

You sniffle, clutching the plushie tightly in your arms as you think of how to even start that conversation.

“He’s working the night shift right now, so I don’t think I’ll be able to talk to him until tomorrow.” You state, feeling your pout deepen at the fact that you might have to wait until tomorrow.

“Why not go visit him during his shift?” Beomgyu suggests, still facing the wall. “That’s how you guys reconnected in the first place, anyways.”

“That’s a good idea! You should do that, yn.” Soobin voices his support, and you snap your fingers as a lightbulb figuratively appears above your head.

“I can bring him his half of Soobin since he didn’t get to try him today!”

The moment the words leave your mouth, Beomgyu’s head snaps to you right as Soobin goes, “You can bring him his half of huh?”

You and Beomgyu freeze as your princess on the other end goes quiet.

Your eyes widen in horror. Beomgyu’s eye twitches.

You glance at Beomgyu, mouthing the words: I’m so fucking sorry.

He can only let out a deep sigh, reaching out and wiping the tear tracks off your cheeks with the back of his hand.

“Did you say bring him his half of me?” Soobin asks slowly. “Like… me, Soobin? Choi Soobin. Me?!”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you gently place Beomgyu’s plushie back on his bed, and stand up from the floor. You step over towards the mic, “I’m going to go get ready to talk to Seungkwan. Thank you for your help, Soobie my princess.”

“Anytime, yn… but seriously. What did you mean by bring him his half of me?”

“Haha, that’s crazy. Reception is so bad here. I hope y'all win your next game!”

“Reception? We’re calling on Discord.”

Without responding, you turn towards your roommate. You raise your fists up towards Beomgyu, who is in a state of fear, and go Fighting! before practically sprinting out of his room.

Beomgyu stares blankly at his screen, already wondering what picture of him his parents will use for his funeral.

“Beomgyu… what are you doing with my name?” Soobin asks, and to one with an untrained ear, this is a simple question. To Beomgyu, however, this is a matter of life or death. He gulps and slowly stands up from his bedroom floor. He carefully walks over to his gaming chair and sits down.

“So… crazy story…”

Holding Soobin the sourdough in a tupperware, you walk in the direction of the convenience store where Seungkwan works. The late evening spring air is warm, just enough to hint that summer is slowly starting to settle in.

It’s 1:00 AM. You’d spent the latter half of the night groveling in Beomgyu’s room over Seungkwan—until the brunette, in an incredibly rare instance of genius, suggested you go visit him at work.

You pause your walk, “Does intruding during his shift make me more of an asshole?”

You think for a moment longer, before shaking your head and continuing towards the convenience store. You had already made it this far, you can’t back down now.

Your mind drifts to memories of Seungkwan in high school, and how you had admired him quietly from a distance. Back then, you wished nothing but the best for him. And now? That hasn’t changed.

But as the gentle breeze brushes past you, you realize that perhaps you idolized him too much. You only ever expected the best from him, because that’s all you saw growing up. From his perfect grades, his charisma, to his genuine love and passion for volleyball. You only ever pictured him fulfilling his dream of becoming a national athlete, loved by fans all around the world.

But life doesn’t always follow the plans we make, and success doesn’t only come in one form.

The convenience store finally comes into view, and you pause when you see the blonde staring at his phone with a furrow to his eyebrows. You watch quietly as he presses his lips into a thin line, and starts typing something into his phone. He stares at the message for a moment, before seemingly deleting the text and resting his head onto the counter in frustration.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you carefully walk up to the convenience store and push the doors open.

“Welcome in–Yn?” Seungkwan’s eyes are wide when he looks up to see you standing there, clad in only a t-shirt, thin jacket and jeans. You give him an awkward smile and raise Soobin the sourdough towards him as you take a step forward, “I brought you your share of Soobin the bread. It wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t get to try your hard work.”

Seungkwan watches as you gently place the tupperware on the counter, before taking a step back and staring at him with a slightly nervous expression on your face.

“Thank you, yn… I was actually just about to text you.” Seungkwan confesses in a soft voice, one that drips with a tinge of remorse. You blink, suddenly realizing that what you saw a moment ago was him working up the nerve to reach out to you. The corners of your lips tilt upwards, and you gesture towards the ramen section, “I can go buy us ramen and wait for you outside?”

The blonde stares at you for a moment, before a small smile graces his own features. He nods his head, “Yeah. I’ll get on my break and buy the sausages.”

You grab the cup ramen the two of you like and prepare it after paying. After transferring the first cup of ramen outside, you quickly head back into the store to grab your ramen. Carefully holding the second cup, you walk out the convenience store and place it on the table before sitting down. A cool breeze blows past you, making you shiver as you break your chopsticks.

“Guess it’s not exactly summer, yet.” You murmur, starting to regret not bringing a thicker jacket. Rubbing your chopsticks together, you’re about to check on your noodles when you suddenly feel something get draped over your shoulders. You turn your head to find Seungkwan settling into the seat beside you, only wearing his sweatshirt and convenience store vest as he breaks his chopsticks apart.

“Thank you, Seungkwan.” You say softly, already feeling warmer by the affectionate act. The blonde just gives you a smile before gesturing to the sausages he bought, and you grin before digging into your late night meal.

The two of you eat in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable or tumultuous like it was earlier in the day. This silence is comfortable, as you both feel remorseful for what happened.

It’s only when you each slurp up the last of your noodles, and the container of sausages is empty, that Seungkwan finally breaks the silence.

“It happened during my last volleyball season at SNU, right before I was supposed to join the national team—I tore my ACL.”

You turn your head to face the blonde, and feel your chest tighten at the familiar sight of the faraway look to his eyes. He presses his lips into a thin line, avoiding eye contact with you as he continues.

“It was a big game. We were playing against our top rival, scouts for the national team were in the crowd, and my team was in the lead.” Seungkwan explains, letting out a shaky breath before continuing, “And I had landed wrongly in trying to save the ball. Most people assume that I would’ve only remembered the searing pain I felt in my leg. Yet, all I remember at that moment was the feeling of my heart breaking.”

You feel tears flood your eyes at his vulnerability in retelling this story, your own heart breaking within your chest at the pain he must’ve felt. The blonde bites his bottom lip at the memory, and lets out a dry laugh, “For some reason, I just knew at that moment that my dream was over. Of course, I fought with my doctor and my surgeon. I worked my ass off in rehab too because I just didn’t want to accept it. I knew it was true, but I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge that.”

“I just,” Seungkwan scratches the back of his neck, still refusing to meet your eyes, “I just couldn’t believe it—all my hard work, the blood, sweat, and tears I poured into my passion for the sport—just gone in a split second. It was my dream to play on the national team. Volleyball was all I knew, and I was good at it. So when it was taken away from me, I felt like I wasn’t worth anything anymore. It put me in a really dark place, if I’m being honest.”

“Since I couldn’t play the rest of the season, my volleyball scholarship had to be revoked. My coach and team fought for me, but we lost. I had to take out a loan and work outside of school in order to pay my tuition. I’m towards the end of my loan payment now, so I guess it’s fine. I was only lucky that I had a strong support system at the time, because I don’t think I would’ve been able to get to where I am today if I endured that alone.” Seungkwan explains, and you can only stay silent as you stare at the blonde.

You stare at the boy who made your time in high school shine brightly. The boy you once admired for his effortless charm and athleticism, unraveling before you—burdened by a dream that was suddenly out of reach.

“Rehab was hard, and I still occasionally have to see a physical therapist. Once you tear your ACL, it’s incredibly easy to tear it again. It’s changed the way I live my life, but I’m stubborn and like to think I can still live the way I once did. That's why I was so sensitive with you today when you were just worried. And for that, I’m sorry, yn. I shouldn’t have been so hostile towards you.”

“No, no. I’m so sorry, Seungkwan.” You interrupt, and the blonde finally turns to look at you for the first time since starting the conversation. His eyes widen at the sight of the tears in your eyes, and he reaches out to rest his hand over yours, “Yn, why are you crying?”

Your bottom lip trembles, but you suck in a deep breath to keep your tears at bay. You shake your head, voice shaking as you begin, “It’s not just what happened to you that hurt. It’s that… you of all people, didn’t deserve it. Not after everything you worked for. When I think of you, I remember how serious you were about volleyball. How much passion you had–even back in high school. You were always so sure of yourself, always chasing something bigger.”

You glance down at his hand over yours, willing your voice to stay steady, “So hearing what you went through, and seeing it in person–it hit me. Maybe because I saw your love for the sport, and the love you were shown. Maybe because… back then, you were this source of brightness in a place that didn’t always feel bright to me. And to know that even someone like you could have something like that taken away, it just made the world feel cruel.”

Seungkwan stays quiet, an indecipherable emotion in his eyes as he stares at you, and you offer him a faint, tearful smile.

“It wasn’t fair for me to change the way I acted around you as soon as I found out what happened. The last thing I would ever want to do is make you think that I pity you, or that you’re not capable of doing something just because of your injury. I don’t ever want to belittle you, or make you feel small.” You explain, and the blonde bites the inside of his cheek at your honesty. He gives your hand a squeeze and nods his head with a close-lipped smile, “It’s okay, yn. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, Seungkwan.” You tell him softly. The two of you stare at each other for a moment longer, a weight being lifted off both of your guys’ shoulders after communicating. Seungkwan turns away and lets out a sigh, “Maybe I should’ve bought us beer instead of sausages. I didn’t expect to pour my heart out like that.”

A laugh escapes you at his joke, and he grins at you, before reaching out and adjusting his jacket over your shoulders so that you’re fully protected from the cold air. Feeling warmth flood your face at the affectionate action, you turn away and look up at the stars as a comfortable silence settles between the two of you.

You turn towards the blonde a moment later, finding your gaze drifting along his profile under the streetlight. His features are cast in a soft gold, and for once, there’s no heaviness in his expression. The dark circles beneath his eyes have faded since the first day you saw him again, no longer etched so sharply into his skin.

Your eyes catch sight of the roots of his hair just beginning to peek through, the dark brown growing in against the light blonde. It’s a gentle contrast, a quiet sign of time moving forward, or something coming back into bloom.

Though the streetlight is not the most flattering light to most, it lays on Seungkwan’s features softly—highlighting the gentle curve of his cheekbones and the warmth in his eyes as if the night itself were conspiring to make him glow.

“It must’ve taken a lot of courage.” You suddenly speak, and the blonde turns to you with a raised eyebrow. The corner of his lips quirks upwards, and he just scoffs, “To what? Get an injury so severe that it made me ineligible for the national team?”

You shake your head, and he tilts his head at you, awaiting your response.

You can see how deeply the struggle has affected him, and you can’t help but admire the strength it must have taken to let go of something he loved so much.

“To give up on your dream…” You pause, trying to find the right words, “That took courage, Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan stares at you as your words soak in, unable to respond. He blinks slowly, before turning away from you and looking up at the sky. You look away and up towards the stars as well, your breath catching when you feel him gently rest his head on your shoulder a minute later.

For a while, neither of you speak, the quiet weight of the moment settling between you.

You stay like that until Seungkwan’s break is over, shoulders touching as the world outside of this moment fades away.

You glance down at the small bouquet in your hands, making sure the SNU logo in the middle of the flowers is perfectly centered. Letting out a small smile, you adjust your graduation cap on the top of your head, and turn to your parents, “I’ll be right back! I just need to drop this off.”

“Okay honey, but try to hurry! We have the reservation at the restaurant soon!” Your mom shouts after you, and you shoot them a thumbs up as you hurry towards the school building.

You pass by many of your classmates, congratulating them on also graduating as you do so. There’s families and teachers everywhere, big smiles on everyone’s faces as you walk through the building.

It’s only when you finally make it to your classroom for the last time, that you almost let out a chuckle at the sight that lays before you.

“Guess I’m not the only one who wanted to leave him a gift.” You murmur as you walk up to Seungkwan’s desk, seeing the numerous boxes and candies left on top and on his seat. Biting the inside of your cheek, you place down the bouquet of flowers in the last empty space on his desk. You quickly fix the position of the attached noted you had written,

Congratulations, Class President. I’ll be rooting for you.

Taking a step back, you smile to yourself at the sight of all the love shown towards the boy you admired throughout all of high school. You let out a breath, and take one last look around the class. Your fingers trail over your desk and cubby as you walk by, until you reach the doors of the classroom.

Smiling softly, your eyes linger on all the gifts laying on Seungkwan’s desk, before nodding your head in satisfaction as you turn around and walk down the hallway of your high school one last time.

Goodbye, my first love.

You smile to yourself at the memory as you prepare your lunch bag for work. You never would’ve thought you and Seungkwan would reconnect, especially not like this. However, the smile on your face soon drops when the bane of your existence breaks the silence.

“I can’t believe I’m losing my roommate to the workforce once again.”

“Beomgyu, I am choosing peace instead of violence, and asking you to shut the fuck up.” You respond without even shooting him a glance, and the brunette lets out a whine from the couch.

“Can I not mourn the loss of you returning to work and me not waking up to already made coffee and breakfast?” Beomgyu asks, and you squint, “You only care about the meals I made, not my actual presence.”

“Well, yes.” The brunette answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you let out a sigh. Reaching down, you grab your slipper, and before he can react, you chuck it right at his forehead. You turn around right when you hear your slipper reach its target, a satisfied smile forming on your face when Beomgyu lets out a cry from the floor instead of the couch.

Placing your lunch into the refrigerator, you let out a yawn and check the clock on the microwave, seeing that it’s almost time for you to sleep.

“You don’t love me the way I love you! And after all I did to make you and Seungkwan be #endgame!”

“We aren’t dating, Gyu.”

“Right… didn’t you guys start casually holding hands three days ago? And have continued to do so everyday after that?”

You pause your journey to your bedroom, and slowly turn to glance at your roommate. You squint at the sight of his knowing smile, and he starts making kissy noises that trigger you to imagine throwing your other slipper at him.

“We’re just… holding hands. You and I have held hands!”

“If you’re counting the times I had to grab your hand to stop you from choking me to death, then that does not count.” Beomgyu says with a deadpan expression, and you purse your lips.

You cannot refuse nor deny that statement, unfortunately.

The brunette lets out a sigh, stands up from the floor at your silence, and tosses your slipper in your direction, “Have a good day back at work tomorrow, and have fun with your boyfriend~”

“He’s not my boyfriend! It’s only been a week!” You immediately exclaim as you slip back into your other slipper, and your roommate just waves a hand at you as he walks off in the direction of his bedroom.

“Potato, tomato. Either way, I expect to be the Best Man at the wedding.”

Feeling how warm your cheeks are at Beomgyu’s teasing, you quickly shout goodnight! before stepping into your room and shutting the door. You let out a breath, and plop down onto your bed. Raising your hands up to your face, you feel slightly more embarrassed from how warm your cheeks are compared to your hands.

“That bastard.” You murmur to yourself with a small smile. Shaking your head, you reach for your charger to plug in your phone, just to pause when you see the notification you missed.

seungkwan🍊: have a good day back at school tomorrow ^^ are we still on for after school?

you: have a good day back too seungkwannie~ and yes of course!

seungkwan🍊: yay i’ll see you tomorrow <3

you: night night <3

Plugging your phone into its charger, you place it on your bedside table, and roll onto your back. You stare at your ceiling in silence for a moment, feeling your face warm up again from the interaction. Biting your bottom lip, you roll over and shove your face into your pillow, letting out a squeal as you kick your feet.

At the end of the day, you’re still 16 year old you at heart.

“Hi! I’m here in the teacher’s office. I had to greet everyone first.” You say into your phone, and you hear Seungkwan chuckle from the other end. “I’ll be there in a second. Don’t let Mr. Kim rope you into a long conversation or else we’ll be late to practice.”

“I would never. Not intentionally, at least.” You joke, and the blonde laughs before telling you he’ll see you soon. Hanging up the phone, you glance around the teacher’s office, feeling incredibly nostalgic at being in your old high school.

“Yn!” You turn your head at the call of your name, and a smile graces your features when Seungkwan walks over to you from the doorway.

“Oh~ who would’ve thought I’d see this pairing in my life?” Your old homeroom teacher says in a singsong voice, causing the other teachers to start giggling. The sound of your old teachers giggling and commenting happily at the sight of you and Seungkwan together has heat rushing to your face.

You’re about to laugh it off when suddenly you feel Seungkwan’s warm hand encompass your own, and you turn your head to find him giving your old teachers a small smile. “We have to head to volleyball practice now–the students are waiting. We’ll see you guys later!”

Your old teachers start cooing at the sight of your intertwined hands as Seungkwan turns and leads you out of the teacher’s office. You can’t help the shy smile from forming on your face, and when you spare a glance at the blonde, you catch sight of his ears that have turned a soft shade of red.

Your heart thumps against your chest when the blonde turns to give you a smile as he leads you down the hallway. The two of you pass right by your old classroom, and you give his hand a squeeze as all the bright memories from high school flash past your eyes.

“Are we also going to hold hands in front of your students too? I think our old teachers are having a field day in the office right now.”

Seungkwan lets out a short laugh and nods his head in agreement, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “Probably shouldn’t, but I would if you wanted to,” he teases, but there’s a tenderness to his voice that lingers even after the joke fades.

The two of you walk in step through the quiet hallways, with only a few students remaining in some of the classrooms for the after-school program. There’s a distant echo of laughter and the sound of sneakers squeaking against the gym floor growing louder with each step.

When you’re finally standing in front of the doors to the gym, the two of you let go of each other, and Seungkwan gives you a shy smile, “Just to warn you, these kids can be a bit… you know. Teenagers. Think they’re the shit and try to act like adults, but in reality their mom is paying for all their stuff. You know, it’s a canon event. When you get to know them though, they’re really great. Trust me. I’m pretty sure a few of them are getting scouted for SNU and Yonsei in the upcoming games.”

“I know what you mean, don’t worry. Do they know how lucky they are to have you as their coach?” You ask with a grin, and he fondly nudges his shoulder against yours, before pushing open the doors. He picks up his whistle and blows into it, immediately capturing the attention of the young students who were simultaneously messing around and stretching.

“Coach Seungkwan! We’ve been waiting for you!” One of the boys exclaims with a big smile, and you feel warmth flood your chest at the affection that drips from all the students’ expressions as they look at the blonde.

“I’m sorry for being a bit late! I had to bring my classmate here to meet you guys. Everyone~ say hi to teacher yln.” Seungkwan gestures in your direction, and you wave your hand at the students who eagerly smile and wave at you. “Hi! I’m a fellow alumni from Coach Seungkwan’s year. You guys should know that you’re very lucky to have this guy as your coach.”

“Was he really the best on his team like he always brags about?”

“Woah, woah, woah. I never claimed I was the best on my team!” Seungkwan intervenes, and you have to hold back your laugh at the sight of his wide eyes and red ears to match.

“Then who claimed it?” You tease, and the students look towards the blonde expectantly. You giggle at how flustered he looks as he tries to come up with an answer, and the kids start laughing and exposing him. You smile at the sight of Seungkwan waving his arms and trying to shush them as you start to walk in the direction of the bleachers.

“Alright, alright. I hope you guys had your fun ruining my ego in front of teacher yln.” Seungkwan states with a fake glare towards the students, causing them to laugh and high five. “Anyways, since we have a special guest here, I expect you guys to put in 110% effort into today’s practice. Afterwards, I’ll treat you all to some snacks for tomorrow’s practice. Deal?!”

“Deal!!” The students immediately answer, and you giggle as Seungkwan raises his arms up in celebration. He shoots you a wink, before turning back to the students and blowing his whistle, “Okay! Let’s start with warm-ups!”

You sit down on the bleachers as Seungkwan starts directing warm-ups, and you feel yourself become entranced as you watch him from afar.

His voice is firm, but kind as his presence grounds the whole gym. You watch as he moves along the sidelines, the detail in his instructions. You watch as he demonstrates some techniques, and calls out encouragement to the kids. Even when there needs to be something corrected, he does so with a gentle hand on a shoulder or a few clear words that make the kids focus.

And you sit there, tears flooding your eyes as you watch him, having not thought you’d see him like this again in your lifetime. Even though he’s not the one on the court, jumping high above the net—he still shines as brightly as you remember him.

You feel it in the way the kids look at him–the admiration, trust, and respect in their gazes. Through his posture, his quiet confidence, and the pure love that shines through his eyes and actions. He’s still leading, still burning with that light that once made your high school years feel a little less dull.

You find yourself smiling to yourself as you watch Seungkwan laugh with one of the students, feeling a tear escape your eye when you catch sight of his beautiful smile as he ruffles another one’s hair for serving well.

The volleyball practice eventually ends with laughter and a dramatic dive for the ball that sends one of the students skidding across the floor. Seungkwan blows his whistle, claps his hands, and announces that practice has ended. The students shout, thank you! before bowing and cleaning up the gym.

You watch as the blonde joins them in cleaning up, even helping some of the students carry away the volleyball nets. There’s sweat dripping from his forehead, and his hair is a little messy from the practice, but he’s smiling in a way that makes something ache in your chest.

When the gym is cleaned and the locker room finally quiets down, Seungkwan jogs over to you, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath, “Sorry that took a while. They’re a bit loud and yap a lot, but they’re great, right?”

You nod your head slowly, watching him with something unreadable behind your eyes, The blonde tilts his head at your silence, before letting out a nervous laugh, “Shit. Did you have any critiques? Should I have been tougher on them?”

“No,” you quickly interject, and Seungkwan bites the inside of his cheek, afraid of what’s on your mind that has you so speechless. He’s about to ask you if something’s wrong, but the words die in his throat when you softly confess, “You were great out there.”

He looks at you like he’s not sure how to respond to that, sensing that your words carry more weight than the simple compliment.

Then, quietly, almost like you’re not sure if you should say it, you do.

“You haven’t changed.”

He blinks at your sudden observation, remembering the day on the beach.

“Why not? Whichever team you join would win since they’d have you as their teammate.” You say with a small smile, and Seungkwan just shakes his head. He stares up at the sky, watching the cloud slowly move past his gaze. He can’t bring himself to tell you the truth, not when you remember him in such a pure light.

He can’t help but feel bitter at how his life turned out as you stare at him in silence.

“You seem like a different person.” He hears you murmur after a moment, and his heart pangs against his chest. Swallowing the lump that’s built up in his throat, he lets out a breath at your statement.

Unable to look at you due to the fear of seeing disappointment or pity in your eyes, he quietly asks, “What kind of person was I before?”

Seungkwan feels your gaze on his face, but he continues to stare up at the sky as he waits for your answer.

“Right, I must’ve been mistaken.” You mutter, and the blonde can only watch the cloud drift further and further away from him as silence settles over the two of you.

Seungkwan bites the inside of his cheek as he reflects on that day, remembering how bitter he felt when he watched those guys play volleyball. He was hurt when you said what you did, but he didn’t want to let it show. It wasn’t fair to you when you didn’t even know the story.

Letting out a breath, he asks, “What do you mean?”

“You always made people feel like they belonged… you still do.” You explain, trying to come up with the words to make sure you’re conveying your feelings right. “You didn’t lose the best parts of yourself when you had to give up your dream, Seungkwan. You carried them with you.”

He stares at you after you finish. His lips opening and closing like he wants to respond, but not able to find the words. Instead, he swallows the lump that’s formed in his throat, and lets out a shaky breath.

“I didn’t know if I had,” he begins softly, “for a long time after my injury, I didn’t know if there was anything left of me outside of volleyball.”

You bite the inside of your cheek at the sight of tears pooling in his eyes, before reaching out and encompassing his warm hand in yours, “There is. There always has been. I saw it today, and honestly? I think I always did, even back then. You always shined so brightly, and you still do. You shine even brighter than before.”

Your words linger in the air afterwards. You’re not even sure if he’ll believe you, but you meant it. Every word.

And Seungkwan just stares at you, like he’s trying to memorize every detail of your face at this exact moment.

Then, a small, wet laugh escapes him—half disbelief, and half something else entirely as he gazes at your surroundings.

He shakes his head and looks at you, “You’re going to make me cry in our old high school gym. It almost makes me feel like I peaked in high school.”

You let out a loud laugh and squeeze his hand, “Trust me, you didn’t. Beomgyu, on the other hand? He’s bordering on that.”

Seungkwan laughs at your joke, shaking his head as you giggle along with him.

“Come on,” he says after a moment. He picks up your bag on the bleachers and gives your hand a gentle tug, “I’m not getting you locked in here with me overnight. Our old teachers are already having a field day over what happened earlier—they’d definitely go into cardiac arrest if we’re found here together after hours.”

You smile and let the blonde lead you towards the exit, the quiet hum of the gym settling around you like an old blanket. As you walk towards the doors, Seungkwan doesn’t let go of your hand, and you don’t want him to.

The gym lights above flicker once before shutting off behind you, the echo of your footsteps fading as the doors close.

Outside, the night air is cool against your skin. And the world feels slower, somehow. Almost suspended.

Seungkwan glances over as you step through the school gate together, watching as you turn back to look at your old high school one more time.

He gives your hand a squeeze, causing you to turn to look at him, “Thank you for coming today. Really.”

“Thank you for showing me.” You say with a soft smile, “I think… I really needed to see that.”

Seungkwan hums in agreement. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you walk hand-in-hand towards the bus stop, allowing yourselves to just soak in this moment. The weight between the two of you is lighter now, easier.

You glance at the pretty blonde, the boy you once watched from across the classroom and gym bleachers, never once daring to imagine a moment like this. Back then, he felt worlds away, like a star that’s bright and unreachable. It felt right to just watch him shine from a distance.

But now he’s here beside you, fingers laced with yours, walking home with you under the same stars.

And you silently think to yourself, maybe you’ve both found something better than what you first dreamt of.

ミ★ taglist: @sunlightwoo @aurenvoire @dreamerhaos @brinnalaine @minluvly @wonunuu @suhfluffy @shuajeong @kuromieiie @minghao-will-be-the-death-of-me @miruac @jaeyuni @sunflowergyeomie @cheolliehugs @smileyjimvn @sukisdeliveryservice @ghostvx @kodzumo @dwcljh @hanniehaeism @taeguk-munchkin @w8nuzone @shuatic @semicolorn @haonysus @adoreateez @anissanightyoung @serenadesvt @linhyyboo12 @junjungsunwoo @wooahaeproductions @changbinworld @mybbtaeyong4thewin @chwesbaby @soobin-chois @bibinnieposts @laylasbunbunny @yoonzinoooo @toruro

[ohbueckers]

YOU WANNA TALK TERMS AND CONDITIONS?

uconn super senior paige bueckers has her eyes on one thing: a national championship. after a long road back from injury and a season of almosts, she’s determined to block out anything that might knock her focus, especially the secret she’s been keeping since junior year. nevaeh ‘nevi’ batista, co captain of the cheer squad and completely off limits, was never supposed to be more than a passing distraction. but now, with everything on the line and no one knowing they even know each other, paige and nevi are walking a tightrope between control and collapse, trying not to fall for something that was never supposed to matter in the first place.

FINE—

authors note. i have a couple of updates for my supporters and donors… they’re finally here after me tweaking the plot 700 times! updates will probably be inconsistent like always, but i will have a lot more free time after exams end. i’m thinking of making an actual tag list for this (surprise, surprise) so just let me know if you wanna be added. missing uconn paige like a sad baby rn so this was only right. dallas p up next doe!

includes. switch of point of views. sexual content, 18+. secret relationship / situationship, mentions of injury, emotional repression, internalized pressure / performance anxiety, toxic tendencies, daddy issues, mentions of sexuality, angst, intoxication, lots of cheer squad names (not really important), the sharing of intimate content, subtle manipulation, etc. not real interpretations of paige or the uconn wbb team (or geno), fair warning that you’ll probably hate nevi sometimes, but she’s pretty so she gets a pass!

YOU DON’T EVEN LIKE ME.

THAT’S THE ONLY WAY THIS WORKS.

playlist. songs i associate heavily with paige and nevi! you’ll see why, sooner or later…

tell your friends, the weeknd. “last year, i did all the politickin,’ this year i’ma focus on the vision.”

slut! (taylor’s version) (from the vault), taylor swift. “i said it might blow up in your pretty face, i’m not saying do it anyway, but you’re going to.”

GREEDY, partynextdoor drake. “this is not conventional, this is not traditional, this is unprofessional, but these are my confessions though.”

loose, daniel caesar. “if you ever start to wonder why all the rain and all the thunder follows her around, you better cut that girl loose. what are you, a coward?”

faking it, calvin harris kehlani lil yachty funk wav. “why you, why you, say let go if you’re still holding it? just a little bit better at faking it than me, baby.”

connect, drake. “i remember when my schedule was as flexible as she is, she call me and tell me be here before the sun up, i be dressed before we hung up.”

bad religion, frank ocean. “if it brings me to my knees… it’s a bad religion.”

drinking and driving, jhene aiko. “so i need you tell me that you love me some more, put your hands on my body as my clothes hit the floor.”

none of ur friends business, ginuwine. “but i don’t give a damn, long as it’s me you trust, ‘cause i can’t get down with your clique.”

don’t matter to me, drake. “you wanted me to gon’ put my hands on you just to show you i love you. you know i can’t jeopardize both our reputations.”

goodnight n go, ariana grande. “it’s bad enough we get along so well, just say goodnight and go.”

& more tba!

chapters. all t&c chapters will be linked here, from start to finish!

teaser, not a prologue.

one. don’t look too long.

two. reintroductions are a cruel sport.

three. it’s purple.

& more tba!

[reverie-starlight]

THE BOY HAS RETURNED!!! how I managed to go 5 months without writing for him I will never know. anyway, here’s some atsumu fluff to heal my soul after finishing my last assignment last week and more recently a rough few days of back-to-back exams.

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. university student!reader, MSBY!atsumu. very fluffy, ultra sappy. y’all know the drill. uhhhh very suggestive towards the end. this is very short bc I'm slowly trying to get back into writing after a creative block. I've missed him SO much, you have no idea :(

you reach your arms above your head and hiss at the dull pain that follows your much needed stretch. slumping back down into your chair, you sigh and allow yourself a moment to take in the fact that you can actually relax for the next day or two, completely guilt free.

you shut your laptop and make your way over to the bedroom, eager to finally crawl into atsumu’s arms. you feel bad for him- you’ve been so busy with your assignments and finals lately that you’ve hardly been able to spend any quality time with him.

he’s been a good sport about it of course- he knows how important your education is, but you also know extremely well how much of a dramatic little shit he can be sometimes.

sure enough, as soon as he sees your figure in the doorway, he turns to face the wall and leaves you with the very familiar, beloved view of his back.

but you miss him, and you'll be damned if you don't get any congratulatory cuddles from him tonight, even if you have to fight for them.

you grin a little and slide under the covers behind him, tracing a finger along his broad shoulders.

“baby,” you make sure to drag out the last syllable. you press a kiss to the nape of his neck and smile against his skin when he shudders. “you’re really going to ignore me?”

he doesn’t answer just yet, but you can feel his resolve (which clearly isn't the strongest in this moment) breaking with every kiss you press down his spine, along his shoulder blades, the backs of his arms…

until he finally caves and turns to you with that lovesick grin you adore so much. he wraps his arms around your waist and you realize just how much you've been missing him.

"are ya finally done?" his eyes shine with hope and your heart squeezes in your chest.

you nod and he pulls you closer so that you're face-to-face, breaths mingling and lips barely touching. his skin, always so warm and soft, smells of fresh laundry and his breath has hints of the minty toothpaste your dentist recommended. you burrow against his neck and release the last of your worries with one big sigh.

and in typical atsumu fashion, as if he's just received an encoded message, he kisses your temple to let you know he's got you. "I'm proud of ya," he mumbles. "I know this was a tough semester for ya, baby, but you're gonna finish off strong."

you melt against him, let your shoulders relax and allow yourself the mental break that is letting him take care of you. "thank you," you whisper. "I'm just so glad I have a few days to rest now."

the energy of the room shifts with atsumu as he moves to hover your frame. the calluses on his hand from years of athletics are rough against the cheek he cups but comforting all the same. the look in his eyes is familiar and makes you a little dizzy with need.

"since you've got nothin' going on tomorrow..." your eyes stay trained on him as he turns his head to check the clock on your nightstand. "that means ya can afford to stay up a bit longer?"

you nod, not even bothering to check the time for yourself, welcoming him with a small smile when his eyes find their way back home to you. "that's right."

he grins and leans down to finally, finally, finally slot his lips against yours, right where they belong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[cirruslush]

「fake rumours」

PART 1 ꩜

an enemies to lovers type of story

hamzahthefantastic x reader

mentions: ANGST, gentle choking , making out, pinning, no smut

The worst thing about Hamzah wasn’t the fact that he was infuriatingly perfect. It wasn’t the way he always seemed one step ahead, or how his stupid cocky smirk could make my blood boil in seconds. It wasn’t even the fact that, he always managed to look effortlessly cool while I was struggling to keep my temper in check.

No. The worst thing about him was that, somehow, he’d always be able to easily find his way back in my head, as if it was the road to home that you blindly know about.

-

-

Me and Hamzah have been friends for quite some time now, considering our parents were friends even before we were born.

His mom adored me as if I were her own, and would always call me over for dinner, or just to study n hangout with Hamzah since we had a lot of classes in common.

Senior year, finally. One of the most stressful and overwhelming grades for many, but also one of the most exciting as well.

On one hand, it’s your last year of high school, which means making memories with friends, and the anticipation of what’s next. There’s a sense of freedom, like you’re standing on the edge of something bigger. But at the same time, it can feel like a lot of pressure—college applications, final exams, and the weight of what comes after.

Fortunately for you, school and life have been “caressing” you almost, but it’s only March, and you didn’t want to jinx anything

The multi-day senior trip is coming up soon and your heart was beating out of your chest, preparing your clothes days before the trip and planning what to do with your friends at night was like preparing for your first summer vacation.

You and your friends had been counting down the days for what felt like forever—talking about who was rooming with who, which places you were going to visit, and, of course, the late-night shit you all were determined to pull off. This trip felt like a rite of passage, a celebration of everything you’d gone through together—years of awkward moments, shared laughs, inside jokes, and even the occasional fighting. But now, it was all coming to an end.

The reality of graduation creeping up was starting to feel more tangible, more real. You caught yourself staring out the window, wondering how it all passed so quickly. Wasn’t it just yesterday you were entering high school, full of nervous energy? Now, you were at the finish line, ready to take the plunge into adulthood.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your thoughts. It was a call from Hamzah. You hesitated for a moment before answering, his name lighting up the screen bringing a familiar comfort with it.

“Hey, what’s up?” you answered, trying to keep your tone casual, though you could hear your own excitement slipping through.

“Have you done packing up yet?” Hamzah’s voice came through, upbeat and teasing.

“Almost,” you replied, glancing at the half-packed suitcase on your bed. “Just getting the last few things together. You?”

“I’m done, finally.” He signed loudly, and you could practically picture him lounging on his bed, phone in hand, his usual laid-back tone in full effect.

“I’m glad. Would you like my mom to drive us to school tomorrow instead?” you said jumping out of your seat, going to the bathroom, to grab your toothbrush “If your mom’s okay with it, always.”

“Sure why not, I’ll text you in a bit.” he replied, and before you knew it, he had already hung up.

Hamzah’s been kinda weird lately. He keeps teasing you in someway, yet being more distant by the days. You thought maybe it was some type of romantic disappointment, or something had happened at home, but you didn’t want to stress him even more by asking, right before the trip at that.

*bzz* the phone buzzed once again, it was a message this time, by your girl best friend. You quickly jumped on your bed, unlocking it

ANNA

hello beautiful sunshine 💕 Actually i’ve been meaning to talk to you about something, but i couldn’t gather the courage to tell you in person. I think Hamzah’s been talking behind your back…I happen to have overheard a conversation he had today, at school with one of his friends, and he said something about you being too immature to him, and that he was planning on cutting u off. Sorry for not telling u earlier girl, did u 2 fight?

The thought twisted something deep in her chest. Hamzah? Your best friend since childhood? He would never, right? Nothing had real happened between you—at least that you remember of, but Anna had said it so casually, and now, it made sense why Hamzah had been distant the past few days.

It was finally the next morning. You really didn’t get any sleep—thinking about Anna’s text over and over again. You were so filled with rage.

Is he foreal? Why would he even call you last night if it he was planning to cut you off anyway..you quickly got inside the car, driving with your mom over to Hamzah’s place.

Once you picked him up, you didn’t even dare to look at him in the eye. No words were said by you, only your mom talking with Hamzah. Though, Hamzah was quick to notice “everything alright? Are you feeling sick or nervous because of the trip?” he asked, looking genuinely worried. How pathetic. you thought to yourself, was he fucking with you or playing with your feelings just before cutting you off—like a cat playing with a mouse before killing it? yeah sure, Fuck him. “No, i’m totally fine.” you outed sassily, with a mocking face for a second.

Hamzah decided not to talk back, thinking it was that time of the month for you, not wanting to argue first thing in the morning.

On the trip, you kept your distance from him, avoiding his gaze, and sitting with Anna and the others at meals. Hamzah tried talking to you, but every. single. time. you shut him down, quickly, turning your body and attention away. The quiet hurt in his eyes made your stomach twist, but you couldn’t shake the words Anna had said.

The days went by, and both of you didn’t speak a word. Not talking to Hamzah for more than a day, was actually very unfamiliar with you. All these years you’d be all over each other, even if you argued one of you would always make a move to apologise soon enough- but this wasn’t the case. You were being selfish, not backing out or falling for any traps after hearing what your best friend Anna had to tell you. After all, why would your best friend lie about something like that? It didn’t seem like she had something against him anyway.

So you want war? You’ll get it.

The rest of the year passed and Hamzah eventually stopped trying to talk to you. You didn’t care, or so you acted like that. It was nice having him cling onto you for a bit, but as soon as that stopped, he straight up became an asshole. He had a nasty, disgusted face everytime you’d cross paths and sometimes even tried tripping you or fell onto you by accident. Did he really hate you that much in the end? He broke you, really..

-

-

3 Years passed by, like days—calm like the river flow

The bass of the music thumped in your chest as you stumbled your way through the club, laughter and chatter blending into the rhythm. You’d had a bit to drink, enough to let loose, but not enough to completely lose yourself. You needed a break from the noise, so you made your way to the bathroom.

The moment you pushed the door open, the cool air hit your face, and you took a deep breath. You leaned against the sink, your reflection staring back at you—a slightly tipsy version of yourself, but still, you were fine. Just needed a minute.

You were trying to focus on getting yourself together when the door creaked open behind you. The sound of footsteps made you glance up, and then—him.

Hamzah

Your breath got caught in your throat. Of all places. Of all the nights. Why here? Was your luck really fucking testing you right now?

There he was, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, looking exactly the same as you remembered. His dark defined curls, his eyes still that deep shade of brown, that you once used to stare at and get lost in. Your pulse sped up, and your stomach twisted into knots, the alcohol in your system only amplifying everything.

He paused when he saw you, his expression unreadable, but you could feel the tension building in the small, dimly lit space between you. Neither of you spoke for a moment.

“You’re here..? What are you doing here?” You said your voice a little slurred, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. “Didn’t expect to see you in the ladies’ room.”

He laughed softly, the sound almost making you forget how you ended your whole friendship over a stupid girl. Almost. “Guess we’re both full of surprises,” he said, eyes flickering to the door as if he was about to leave.

But he didn’t move.

You took a small step back, feeling the weight of the situation sink in. Why was he just standing there? Why wasn’t he leaving?

“I’m, uh, i’ll see myself out then” you said, trying to walk past him, but he stepped forward, blocking your way.

“Actually, im glad i met you here.” he said, towering over you “Now that you have nowhere to go, don’t ya think you can give me a clear explanation.”

oh fuck me. That’s crazy..You thought to yourself.

Now that you were getting a closer look—He definitely got taller, his arms and face looked way more defined than before as well.. and his voice—that high pitched voice that you were used to, sounds a lot more manly now and definitely deeper too..Has he been smoking? Wait-no no NO. None of these mattered right now. You have a problem here and now, and unfortunately none of your friends to get you out of it this time.

“Well~ what are you talking about, im kinda dizzy to be honest.. think we can talk about this laterz maybe?” you giggled a lil bit, trying to act a bit more drunk, maybe you thought to yourself, maybe, he’d let you off the hook.

“I don’t see a reason to talk outside, pretty.”

The club was still loud outside, people shouting and laughing “and who knows, you just might try and run away again.”

Inside the bathroom, it felt like the world had gone silent. Just you and him, stuck in a moment neither of you had fully let go of.

You didn’t know how to respond. Your mind was foggy, you just stared into his dark coloured eyes.

Has he always been that hot or was it the alcohol smacking you right in the face right now? This is ridiculous. Why would you think like that about your childhood friend. Wait no it’s not me though, it’s definitely the alcohol, can’t be…Great, am i talking to myself now?

Out of nowhere—you got hit with the coldness of the tiles on the wall. Hamzah had pinned you down to the wall. You swallowed hard, your breath starting to get uneven as you try to quiet down your heart with it.

“are you communicating? Im talking to you this whole time, and you just, chose to ignore me again.” he said teasingly, pointing out the past.

Hamzah smirked, his gaze not leaving yours. There was a tense silence between you two, the kind that hung in the air, thick and unresolved. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t.

He took a step closer, closing the remaining space in between us, his presence overwhelming. “I’ve been thinking about you, y/n, A lot.”

Your heart pounded almost out of your chest. The alcohol coursing through your veins was blurring the lines between what was real and what you wanted. You should pull away, tell him to leave. But your body was betraying you, your mind too clouded to make the rational choice.

if you were to say you didn’t think of him everyday ever since you graduated either, then, you’d definitely be lying…But that’s another thing.

“Actually, you know what. No. You don’t get to talk to me like this—as if you really miss me, after being such an asshole to me in highschool.” his hand, with sudden, fast-yet gentle emotions, now wrapping your neck. Not squishing tight, only enough to show how mad he was.

Slowly, he brought his mouth to your ear “Me? Being the asshole? Right, as if I ignored you for no reason, first.” he said, softly.

Hamzah’s gaze fierce as a knife, he eyed you up and down, like a a snake observing it’s prey. And before you knew it, his lips were on yours, urgent and hungry. The kiss was passionate and rough. His hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to sink into him, to forget all the hurt and confusion.

You kissed him back, letting the heat build, drowning in the way he made you feel—alive, wanted, and reckless all at once. His hands moved to your hips, pressing you against the cool tile of the bathroom wall, and you let him, letting the past, and the bitterness fall away with every passing second.

The door behind you creaked slightly, but you didn’t care. The club, the noise, the people outside—it all seemed so far away. There was only him. Only the way his lips and tongue moved with yours, the way his hands held you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“Are you sure about this?” he breathed against your lips, his voice thick with desire. He was holding back.

How did you end up like this? Were those feelings just, pend up anger? None of it mattered, you just wanted to feel the heat of the moment

You pulled him closer, your hands sliding into his curls, needing him, needing this, even if you didn’t quite understand why. “Yeah..” you whispered, the word falling out before you could stop it. You needed him to hear it. You needed him to know.

to be continued

────୨ৎ────

✎ a/n first time writing kinda nervous.. I think this may be kinda boring at first since i was yapping a lot. The original story was like 2 times this one but i had to rewrite it eventually 😭 there also may be some spelling errors or just some shit that don’t make sense but please bear with me since english is not my first language

[thehydraethereal]

DO NOT BLAME THE WIND

࿐ 𝒲arnings: MY CONTENT IS DARK AND MY WARNINGS ARE NOT EXHAUSTIVE. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. MY WORK CONTAINS TRIGGERING ELEMENTS SUCH AS MENTIONS OF RAPE; RESTRAINS; AGE GAP; CAPTIVITY; STOCKHOLM SYNDROME; MENTIONS OF BLOOD; FEAR; TORTURE THEMES AND POSSIBLY OTHERS. MDNI, 18+.

࿐ CATEGORY: JOEL MILLER ONE-SHOT

࿐ PAIRINGS: dark!captor!joel miller x reader

࿐ MY NOTES: finallyyy managed to write some pedro pascal. Exam sessions are over for now, so I'll be yours, my babies. Enjoy reading my shit. REBLOGS, ASKS, LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE MUCH LOVED AND DESIRED. REQUESTS ARE OPENED FOR MORE DARK FIC IDEAS.

࿐ TAGS: @pedrosyouknowwhat enjoy, my beloved. @highonmarvel my sister and soulmate xxx @katwriteshardy JUST IN CASE U WANNA READ THIS TOO

The weathered bark of the pine was splinting the flesh of your back and the cold was leaving sharp bites up your arms. The wind was unforgivingly harsh, and it whipped at your face, making more tears run down your numb cheeks. The rope was secured tightly and you felt like an animal, tied and bound to take your punishment. Your throat felt hoarse from all the weeping and pleading after him. But, apparently, when Joel Miller wanted to teach someone something, there was no opposition or protests — all you could do was watch his broad figure ride towards the woods, while you were left prey to the storm outside. 

Your wrists were all bloodied, the result of your struggle. The dizziness and agony made your retina blur, disorting everything in your sight. You only prayed that Joel would come get you and you promised yourself you will never spit at his face ever again, no matter how hard he backhanded you or thrusted in your core. 

As if your prayers were finally heard, a rugged movement beside you made your body instinctively flinch. “J-Joel?”, you asked, heavy eyes looking up at the older man. His jaw was clenched as his gloved hand came up and rested itself on your jaw. “I’m so s-sorry—”, you choked out, hot tears now cascading freely. Your whole body was shaking from the pain of standing with your back glued to the tree, restrained, all in the iciness of the howling tempests. 

“You’re shivering…”, he growled, as if your plea fell on deaf ears. You nodded and looked up at him through your wet lashes. “I’m s-so cold…”, you whimpered, melting into the hardness of his body. 

His calloused hand came to your back, where your wrists were secured, and ran his fingertips over the dried blood. You yelped. “I want to know—”, he started, and your heart jumped. You were ready to say anything just so he would take you back inside. “—if you know why you’re in this position…”

You looked into the darkness of his orbs and swallowed, looking for permission to speak. You absolutely did not want him to believe you were talking back, even though he asked you something. 

The click of his tongue in the inside of his cheek was showing off that he was expecting your answer. 

“J-just as you s-say…Do not blame the wind for destroyal if you were the one that o-opened the window.”, you whispered, eyes falling to the frozen mud around your feet. “I-I was di-disrespectful and it w-was right of you to p-punish me.”

Joel smirked, pleased with your answer. “There’s my good girl…”, he praised, cutting off the rope. You wrapped your weakened arms around his neck…You were clinging for dear life at the man that made you suffer the most. How ironic. 

“Let’s get you back home, where you’ll show me if you’re actually sorry or not.”, he finished as your eyes darted to the pylon of your torture, wrapped in fog, and the crimson-stained rope lying forgotten in the dirt. Your face buried itself into his neck, and his warmth gave you an odd comfort.

 Terror does funny things to mankind. 

[liillyliilly]

tape me up, please? sugawara koushi x reader content; taping suga up- aka pure fluff 970 words

It was like any other day as Kiyoko’s friend really, dropping off your bag in the library for book club and then going to check on her- making sure your plans to hang out at your house after her volleyball stuff and your meeting as vice president of the Karasuno Literary Society.

So you bounded over to the gym, swinging your arms happily from side to side with a hum. When you peeked your head in, Kiyoko grabbed you by the hand and pulled you into the gym entirely. Harsh, and unusual, but you accepted the nudge and entered into the sweaty palace of the volleyball idiots.

“I need you to do something really quick for me, gotta run and grab my notebook from my locker, just stand here and wait for Yachi to take over.” Kiyoko is holding her hands out as if to prevent you from running away, soothing you and emphasizing how soon she’d return.

You just nodded.

Once Kiyoko had evacuated, you waved at your contemporary Japanese literature teacher, Sensei Takeda. Takeda smiled, holding up a book that you had recommended to him, and you throw him a thumbs up in return. You two were always exchanging books, and he always made sure to give you books that actually challenged you- instead of giving you the regular course books, you were getting literature he had read during University. With appropriate assignments and preparation for your third year final exams of course.

The watch on the wall started to taunt you, and you thought you could probably just leave. But Yachi still hadn’t appeared. Someone else had appeared instead.

“Tape me up, please?”

Sugawara Koushi, with his bare chest and hands holding rolls of pink and blue athletic tape.

You could feel the heat settle within your ears, burning like when the sun got particularly bad during the summer heatwaves.

“You should probably wait until Kiyoko or Yachi gets here,” You bit down on your lip seeing him bring his tongue out to swipe at his bottom lip slightly, “Or better yet, have someone on the team help you!”

Your feigned enthusiasm for a different solution to his problem caused him to roll his eyes.

“Everyone else is busy, see? Asahi and Noya are busy stretching. The first years are still changing, and the rest of the team is finishing a quick running drill outside. Just tape me. I’ll guide you, so you do it just how I like it.”

He shoved the rolls of tape into your hands and you swallowed thickly, feeling the dense stretchy tape in your hands.

“Are you sure this is how you like it?” You try to catch his eye, but he’s still lifting the back of his hair up with his hand and tilting his head down- trying to avoid getting hair in the strips of hot pink tape you were attaching from near his nape to across the back of his shoulder blade.

“Yes. Definitely.”

You get another strip of blue tape this time, following his instructions. This would curve around his rotator cuff, from the top of his shoulder to his mid-bicep. One piece for the front section and one piece for the back section, creating a sort of oval around his shoulder.

The lack of Kiyoko and Yachi was still an anomaly to you, in the next ten minutes, you would definitely have to leave to get back to your own club instead of acting as some sort of interim manager for Karasuno’s pretty boy Sugawara.

“Okay, can you get my lower back too?”

“Hmm?!” The sound you make is muffled, but not unheard by Sugawara- who’s fumbling over his words trying to avoid embarrassment.

“Just like from my mid-torso to my hip to like, the, uh, start of my volleyball shorts.” He traces his hand where he can reach, trying to illustrate where he wants the tape. His hand ends up right at the back of his shorts, at the small of his back.

His ears are red, his cheeks are pink, and his neck is the same salmon color as the tape you had applied.

“How many slices of tape do I need?”

Soon, Sugawara’s all taped up, and you think his skin is more plastic bandage than actual human flesh at this point.

“All good now?” You ask, standing up from how you’d kneeled off to the side of him to get the tape around his torso.

“Really good, like 100% better than anyone else could’ve done.” He reaches out and touches the side of your arm, squishing you a little.

“Thanks. I really should be heading out now,” You jut a thumb in the direction of the entrance and Sugawara nods furiously.

Later in the day, after practice, when Sugawara is handing two drinks from the vending machine to Yachi and Kiyoko, Kageyama asks Daichi a question.

“Sugawara never wears that much tape for a practice match, and he never has problems with his hips, why does he have support there?” Kageyama downs the rest of his water bottle. 

Daichi wipes sweat off his forehead as he shakes his head with some astonishment.

“Suga just wanted a certain someone’s hands all over him.”

Hinata pops into the conversation, “Ah! Takeda-sensei’s student yeah? The really nice third year who tried to help us with our reading Kageyama.”

Kageyama nods in understanding. “So, he pretended to need to get overly taped so he could have them touch him?”

Daichi pats Kageyama on the back, “Bingo.”

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Glasses | Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: Spencer shows up in new glasses and it awakens some new feelings for your fellow BAU agent. 

A/N: I wrote this a month ago procrastinating studying for my exam 4 on Tuesday after I saw this GIF and finally finished it tonight. so here it is - hope you enjoy! this is NOT proofread. Sorry for any mistakes.  

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

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Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

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********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

**Aye Warning: this is PG 13 - little raunchy at the end * 

You and your fellow agents sat around the round table in the conference room. A new case had come to light, JJ gathering you all before you even had time to sit down at your desk. Fresh coffee sat in front of you and just the smell brought comfort. You glanced around the table, missing one of your agents. Spencer. Usually he beat you to work every morning, reprimanding and teasing you about it. 

“If you’d drink the coffee here instead of stopping every morning on your way to work, you’d actually be on time and beat me here.” Spencer teases following you through the glass double doors. He was in his usual work attire - slacks and a button up. His hair a curly mess. His messenger bag hung over his shoulder. 

You turned around to face him, walking backwards a few steps and made a face, mocking him, “I’m not drinking that tap water you all call coffee.” You saluted your coffee cup toward him, “I will always be late for a nice, fresh cup of coffee.” 

“Where’s Spencer?” You asked, sipping on your coffee and flipping open the case file JJ tossed in front of you. 

She took a moment to glance around the room, perplexed Spencer wasn’t here yet. “I actually don’t know.” She peeked out the window overlooking the rest of the office, “Usually he beats you here.”

JJ went on with the meeting, turning on the TV screen to show pictures of the crime scene and now the next missing and possible victim. 

“Sorry I’m late-” Spencer says, out of breath as he enters the room in a rush. “I had an appointment and it ran later than expected -” He tosses his bag on the ground with a thud, sitting down and oblivious to the surprised looks from his fellow agents. 

Glasses. Spencer was wearing glasses. Your jaw dropped at this new sight, the pen you were chewing on, hanging against your lips. You wouldn’t disagree, Spencer Reid was a very attractive man. I mean you’d admitted that multiple times, but he was also your coworker. A relationship with a coworker could create a rocky atmosphere for the BAU.

He always been an eye candy to look at, however, this new look tossed you over the edge, changing something inside you. You needed him. His touch, his lips against yours. You were overwhelmed with such affection and adoration. Where was this coming from? Immediately your mind went dirty, your face flushed with embarrassment at having those thoughts, scared someone else could hear them. 

Spencer met your eyes from across the table, a new twinkle in his eye, “What did I miss?” He’d noticed the effect he had on you, he could read you like a book. 

You couldn’t even look him the eye. God what was this man doing to you. A wave of warmth was felt through your body; spreading to your core as new fantasies come to light. A dark mahogany desk... Spencer in a button up, loosening the tie around his neck. Oh god. You sat up quickly as if you were just touched by a hot poker and composed yourself, “JJ was just telling us about the last victims who were found-” Your eyes pleadingly glanced at JJ and the screen behind her. 

“Right anyways-” 

~ 

Everyone had settled into their seats on the jet and you stood, slipping behind the curtain to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge. When you stood back up, you were met with Spencer’s chest, “Shit--Spencer.” 

“Did I scare you?” He smiles in triumph, “You’re so jumpy.” He tilted his head as he observed the change in you. 

You stepped out of the way as Spencer reached for mini fridge, fumbling for an excuse. “Watched a scary movie last night.” 

He hums in response turning to face you, the small countertop digging into your back as you tried to put enough space between you and Spencer. “Which movie?” He glances back over his shoulder, checking the curtain is closed. 

You glanced around him as well, wondering what he was looking for, but finally meeting his eyes, “oh you know.. I think it was scream?” 

He closes the space between the two of you, slipping his hands behind you and  placing them firmly on the countertop behind you. 

“Spencer!” A quiet gasp escaped your lips as his body pressed against yours. 

“Shhh...” He places his index against your lips as he leans in close, the smell of his aftershave and minty breath hitting you in a wave. His breath is hot against your neck as his lips dance along your neck. 

Your entire body submits to his touch. oh god. 

“Wouldn’t want them to know what we’ve been up to these last couple months, now would we?” 

Comments, likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! x 

This tag list is an old one. 

Criminal Minds tag list: @thelovelydreamer17​ , @la-vie-en-amour1 , @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 , @astra-inclinant-sed-non-obligant (possibly: @astra-x-inclinant)  , @bluerose512 , @lolychu​ , @varsityalthete

All my works tag list:  @blossomreed​ , @mggstyles  , @simonsbluee​ , @thewolf-and-thesheep , @obxrafe , @abbiesthings , @itstaskeen​ , @reniescarlett​

[clairewritesfanfics]

Villain Creation System Chapter 5

Pairing/s: Invincible x Reader x Invincible Variants

Author's note: It feels forever since the last time I published a chapter. Anyway, I apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes or missing words or other editing mistakes. I'm posting this at four in the morning and I'm groggy as heck. I'll fix any mistakes when I wake up again in... I dunno, six hours? edit: Geez I really was groggy when I wrote this, look at that many "mistakes" 😭

CHAPTER 4: Just Cut Their Red Thread of Fate |  Series Masterlist <<read the synopsis and trigger warnings first>>

The digital sprout on your phone has grown into a digital tree in the past twenty-four minutes and fifty-eight seconds. You watched the timer hit zero–it played two short rings, signaling that it was time for a break.

Amber groaned as she stretched her arms over the table, laying her cheek on the handouts you insisted that she print. “God, finally.“

“Refill?” Your lips pursed towards the empty coffee mug she pushed towards the window.

“Nah, if I drink anymore I won’t be able to sleep later.”

You nodded and picked up your frappe, all pink and sparkly. According to the barista, it was tradition to have a unique beverage for every quarterly exam week. This princess glitter concoction was this week’s special. You planned on trying everything The Mug could offer. It was fun.

“I can’t believe someone actually ordered that thing, does it even taste good?”

You pried off the plastic cover and used your straw to scrape off the remaining whipped cream. “No, it tastes exactly like it looks like.” It was like sipping on a cotton candy. Just pure sugar.

“Then stop slurping it.”

“It would be a waste not to finish it, and besides, the carbs help me think. Makes studying easier.” You were going to regret having this much sugar when you crash out eventually, but that is future you’s problem. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking about this but ever since we first met, I think I’ve only ever seen you take notes on your notebook or typing in your laptop. You’re like a study addict,” she teased. “What’s your secret to getting into the groove?”

You shrugged. “I just like how simple it is.”

“Simple?” She gawked.

“I work hard and I get rewarded.” 

Amber observed you for a moment. You wondered if she thought you were lonely, because if she did then you’d be offended. No one forced you into your bubble, you genuinely enjoyed school. Life was predictable in the world of academics. If you study for a test, you get a high score. There was beauty in its simplicity. Comfort, even.

“You know,” Amber said, “My sorority sisters and I’ve been planning a party for after the exams, you should come.”

“A party?” You’ve been to parties in your past life. The delightful ones were with close friends, but the rest? Mandatory crap. You smiled so much your risorius muscle must’ve hypertrophied in your old body.

[Host, this may be a good reconnaissance opportunity.]

I know that, you hissed back inside your mind. You and Amber weren’t exactly buddies, and despite your repeated interactions, you could never bring yourself to inquire about Eve or Mark. This college party was the window of opportunity you have been waiting for.

With a heavy heart, you grinned at Amber. “Sure, I’d love to go.”

Your phone sent out two short rings. Break’s over.

Amber threw her head back, a disappointed sound left her throat. You smiled for real this time.

***

“22 out of 30.” A deep line formed between Amber’s eyebrows when you finished checking her mock test. 

“That’s… not good,” she whispered.

You put away your red pen. “You got 73% of the questions right, that is a major improvement from your past scores.” Originally, she could barely get past 50%.

However, instead of feeling relief, Amber continued to stare at the red x’s all over.

You knew that look. 

You tried to find the correct words. Amber was a hard worker, and she was a star student in her high school, but college is different. 

You drew awkward circles on the table as you spoke, “Listen, the minimum passing level for the biochemistry exam is 65%, you got this.”

But your statement just made her brows knit closer together.

Before you could say another word, a familiar clean scent wafted into your nose.

“Room for one more?” Mark asked, holding his usual order of black coffee and eggdesal. 

You and Amber regarded him with surprise, followed by mild annoyance.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He added, gesturing around him; the place was packed full of zombified young adults. “You know what exam week does to coffee shops.”

Amber crossed her arms. “Seriously, when did you start hanging around coffee shops?” She glanced at you and briefly explained, “Mark hates dining at cafés.”

“What? You’re joking.” 

“It’s true.”

You turned to Mark, who simply shrugged.

“What can I say?” He smiled at you. “Something about this place is different from the others.”

Amber’s eyes darted between the two of you, the gears in her head rapidly turning. 

She put her hands on the table and stood. “Mark, can I talk to you for a second? Alone?”

“We can just chat here.”

“I–”

Her phone vibrated, interrupting her. She checked the sender. 

“That Kyle?” That was the name of Amber’s boyfriend. “He’s got perfect timing.”

She shot Mark a glare and began packing her things. “This isn’t over,” she warned. 

“Sure, sure.”

Amber sent you an apologetic look. “He’s already a few minutes away, I–”

“It’s fine. We’re already done, anyway.”

She nodded, glared at Mark again, and hurried out of her seat.

You waited for Amber to disappear through the wooden door before looking at Mark, who wasted no time filling the empty chair.

He wore a black long-sleeved top and a pair of ripped jeans. His hair looked darker tonight, it was damp, like he went straight to here after a fresh shower.

You spoke with the system and demanded to know why it didn’t warn you that he was in the area.

The system, who got bored listening to you drone on about the pentose phosphate pathway and decided to read the Kama Sutra (“for research” it claims), had only realized what was happening when Mark Grayson started hitting on you. It could only avert its gaze and whistle in response.

So much for having a nigh-omniscient divine artificial intelligence as an assistant.

Irritated, you turned your attention to the grinning Mark in front of you.

“Why don’t you like eating at cafés?”

“Amber was exaggerating.”

“I see. Well, you can have the whole table. See ya.” It was your turn to start packing.

“Hey, hey, wait, I just got here.”

“So?”

“Ow. At least have dinner first?”

“Mark,” you said, cocking an eyebrow at him, “it’s already twelve in the morning.”

He checked his watch. “Oh.” He looked at you. “Don’t you have, I dunno, notes to digitize or something?”

“No.” You were already on your feet. “Tonight was reserved for tuto–” you caught yourself, “–for studying with Amber. With her gone, all that’s left to do is go home and get some rest.”

His shoulders fell.

Your heart tinged with something akin to guilt. Building a relationship with him is important, but you were expecting a sugar crash any minute now, one that will definitely make you lose affinity points.

However… 

A sad pretty boy was hard to ignore.

The system started eating popcorn. Its older colleagues claimed that popcorn tasted best when witnessing drama. Watching its Host struggle with emotions brought it inexplicable bliss.

It played a melancholic violin and used its holographic ability to project dog ears onto Mark’s head.

[What are you going to do now, Host? Are you planning on turning your back on such a handsome, crying face?]

Clicking your tongue, you sat back down, prompting Mark to look up.

You crossed your arms and asked, “Is the yogurt parfait here any good?”

He tilted his head.

“Yeah,” he replied, confused.

You refused to meet his gaze.

His peach lips then parted into a bright smile. “One parfait coming up.”

[Ding. Affection: 29%. Darkening: 6%.]

The system spat out its popcorn and rolled around laughing with its hypothetical body. 

Mark was not beating the masochist allegations in your mind. 

[Technically, Host, I think it would be more appropriate to call him a submissive.]

Who cares?!

You exhaled.

Hey…

[Yes, Host?]

Does he look sad to you tonight?

[His facial expressions and body language haven’t changed much so to me he is the same as usual. What would make you think otherwise?]

Just a feeling, you thought, watching his back as he leaned closer to the cashier, likely flirting again.

[Is the Host jealous?]

You scoffed.

Why would I be jealous? He flirts with everyone.

[If you say so.]

You could feel the little brat smirking. If it had a physical body you would very much like to chuck it to the nearest garbage can, or maybe an open fire. 

While you were in the middle of conjuring the best way to execute your system, Mark returned with a large yogurt parfait.

“Your midnight snack, madam.”

“Ew.” The hair on your neck stood at the title. “Never call me that again.”  You would rather he call you–

“Whatever you say, princess.”

Tsk.

[Pft.]

Mark swiped several tissue papers from the dispenser on the table and wiped the parfait spoon before handing it over. 

When you reached to take it, your fingers grazed his. It was brief, barely a feather’s touch, but it sent warmth up your arm and to your chest.

[Affection: 30%.]

You decided to focus on eating your parfait.

Mark had a similar idea, preferring to eat his egg sandwich without making a peep.

The silence between you was filled by the faint cacophony of students typing on their laptops and scribbling on their tablets, the clinking of metal and ceramic and glass, and an instrumental rendition of Blues in the Night. 

Barring the circumstances that brought you here, this was nice. If you ever found someone before you had died, would you have spent your free time with him in a coffee place like this one? 

In life, the closest you’ve ever been to romance were books and dating sims, and those things have irreversibly warped your standards.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Mark broke the silence, dipping the rest of the bread in his coffee.

You wanted to snap and tell him that you were too exhausted to think, that he should’ve just taken his order to-go or eat alone like a grownup, but you don’t.

You snuck a glimpse of him. Dark circles haunted his . He seemed paler, too. 

“I was just thinking about what constitutes an ideal date.”

His face brightened. “Are you finally going to let me peek into that brilliant brain of yours?”

“I’m not brilliant.”

“Amber would beg to differ, and so would Professor Harper.”

“Amber?” You understood Professor Harper, but why Amber?

“Yeah, she talks about you a lot, says you’re really smart.”

“You talk about me?”

“Sometimes.”

“With Amber?”

His grin turned wicked. “Jealous?”

You could hear the system restraining its amusement.

You ignored the ticking in your eye and took a big scoop of parfait. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He reclined on his seat. “Got any questions for me? Besides Amber, I mean.” Great, now he was laughing at you. Excellent.

“I have nothing to say to you.” You had a lot, actually. You wanted to know about his mom, his missing dad, whether or not he has met Eve. You wanted to be done with this mission world. You wanted to be done with all of this.

“Are you sure?”

You paused. “Actually, I do have a question. Did you finish reading that book?”

Brown  widened with surprise, then they twinkled. “‘That book’? Sweetheart, what do you take me for? I finished Professor Harper’s entire reading list.”

Your jaw slacked. “That… is impressive.” Although maybe the reading was to compensate considering how he’s been missing class the past week.

He made a hair flipping motion. “I know. Brains, beauty–is there anything I can’t do?”

“Eat alone in a coffee shop, apparently.”

He chuckled dryly.

[Ding. Affection: 27%. Darkening: 6.3%.]

You inhaled too fast and the slender spoon got sucked inside your throat. Both hands flew over your neck as you squawked out for help. 

[Host!!]

Mark vanished from across the table and was instantly by your side. He bent you forward and struck you between the shoulder blades once, twice–

The spoon shot out of you and bounced three times on the table.

Mark’s voice came out softly, “You okay?” 

Before you could answer, the whole floor applauded. 

Blood rushed to your cheeks and you became hyper-aware of the protective palm on your back. 

You looked up and saw his eyes overflowing with concern.

“Princess?”

You felt like throwing up.

***

Good news: You didn’t throw up. You apologized to the staff and promptly left.

Bad news: Mark followed you out.

“I’m walking you home.” There was no room for negotiation in his tone as he took your bag from you. You reluctantly let him because you had a feeling that any protesting wouldn’t have stopped him from trailing after you.

It’s not like you didn’t appreciate the offer. After all, it doesn’t matter how prestigious a university is, there is always a chance of getting attacked on campus property. But after your little scene, you truly wanted to be alone, as in, may the ground crack open and swallow me whole alone.

But now he was with you, and he hasn’t spoken a word since you two left The Mug. Silence was nothing new between you and Mark, in fact, what you liked about him besides his uncontested physical appearance was the fact that he also enjoyed quiet moments when they were there.

That being said, you weren’t sure whether you preferred this… this soundless noise over his endless teasing. 

When two people get into an argument and one of them leaves to cool off and then gets hit by a car, that’s an accident. The two people are innocent, they shouldn’t feel shame–but the one who didn’t leave the house to cool off is still going to somehow blame themselves.

Logically, you understood that there was nothing wrong with what happened. It was an accident. But reason alone cannot stop emotion.

“Mark,” you said, still looking forward as you walked.

“Yeah?”

Your mouth opened and closed, and opened and closed. You regretted saying his name. It hung in the air and now the silence grew louder. 

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. His lips were twitching.

Son of a–

You planted your feet on the ground, prompting him to stop walking too. “You’re laughing? You’re actually laughing?”

To his credit, Mark actually tried to keep his poker face for a little longer. His tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek until he couldn’t contain himself.

“Pft–”

[Pfft–]

Two very different beings from two very different planes of existence united together in a chorus of wild belly laughter.

You missed the quiet already.

“It’s not that funny,” you mumbled, feeling hot.

“I’m sorry–I–I’m sorry but it is.”

[He’s right, Host, it was quite the sight. If he didn’t save you in time your death might have been nominated for an award.] 

The system nodded to itself, pleased. It knew its Host had potential! Unintentional death by spoon would have been one for the books.

You waited for Mark to calm down into mere huffing. “Are you done?” 

He wiped a tear and stood up straight. “There’s never a dull moment when you’re around, princess.”

“Wow. Thanks. That almost sounds like a compliment.”

“It is one. I’ll keep giving you compliments until you can tell immediately.”

“That won’t be necessary.” You continued walking. “Let’s go.”

You didn’t have to look to know that his gaze was on you. You had a hunch he was smirking too.

It was annoying how fixated he could get with you, but you tolerated it better now. Dare you say, you even enjoyed the attention, though you would sooner stab your own hand than admit that to him or anybody else.

The system, who realized its Host is not immune to human romantic feelings: (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

Not. A. Word.

[Whatever you say, Host.]

You yearned for the sweet embrace of your bed, so upon reaching your building, you grabbed the straps of your backpack and swiped it away from Mark. “Thanks for walking me.”

“You know, I’d be happier to hear that if you didn’t sound like a robot.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’ll store that information for future assessment. This robot will not keep you any longer–”

His fingers wrapped around your wrist weakly.

You were about to give him what for when he stated, “I play bass in a band.” 

Oh, yeah. “Indigo Muse, right?” 

His next sentences came in rapid succession. “We got a gig this Saturday, at a club called Wisteria, and I know you hate concerts but I’d really like it if you came and watched us.” 

Brown eyes pleading, his smirk was nowhere to be found. This was unlike the confident man you’ve come to know. 

He was desperate, bordering on pathetic.

It was…heh…cute.

The system froze.

Mark watched your reaction, but your face was unreadable. 

“It’s an open invite, you don’t have to–”

“I’ll go.” You squeezed his hand. “Just email me the details.”

Recovering from surprise, he also recovered his smirk. “Who uses email?”

“It’s easier for us robots to keep track of information with email than text message.”

You let go before he did, fingers sliding past each other, unwilling to part.

“Good night, Mark.”

You turned on your heels. “Don’t forget that email. I’m not going anywhere unless I’m sure about the dress code.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You didn’t have any energy left to correct him.

[Ding. Affection: 32%. Darkening: 6.3%.]

It wasn’t until you managed to trudge back to your unit and fell on the mattress did the system speak up.

[Host, I would like to apologize.]

For what?

[It would seem my putting dog ears on a sad Mark Grayson has awakened something in you.]

taglist: @weponxwrites @ratkidcalledallie @qxuanii @lilacoaks @gluttonousriceflour @phisen

Disclaimer: The images used in this post do not belong to writerclaire. They were lifted from the following sources:

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Alternate Invincibles

CHAPTER 6: Square Root of a^2+b^2 | Series Masterlist

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[miley1442111]

(part 2) choices and chances- art donaldson

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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: the last time you're second-place to tashi

pairing: art donaldson x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment, hurt, etc. +

PART 2 of 12

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Art ran through the science building, tennis bag swinging from his back as he raced through students to get to you. Patrick was hot on his heels, shouting ‘where are you going?’ and ‘can you slow down?!’. 

Art did not slow down. Art kept running. 

He knew this was his last and final chance, that if he didn’t make it to this, he would lose you for good. He was still sweaty from a warm-up session with Tashi 10 minutes ago, his hat was practically falling off his head but he couldn’t have cared less. 

As he came to a halting stop outside the lab you were having an exam in, his heart dropped when he saw the lights off and the chairs empty. He checked the time, 2:48pm. Your exam finished at 2:30, right?

Art opened your texts and scrolled back to the text in which you had told him about the date of your final exam, asking him to pick you up at 2:00pm. 

“Fuck!” Art shouted, gaining many stares from the students around him. He quickly dialled your number (he had learnt it by heart) only to be met with an automated voice telling him that his number was blocked. “Fuck!” 

His tennis bag was swung to the floor and he sat against the wall, anger and shame eating at him. You had a match against Tashi and a final science lab today, and he was too busy with Tashi, helping her warm up when he should've been with you. 

“Hey, at least you’re off the hook,” Patrick patted him on the shoulder and Art blew up. 

“I don’t want to be off the hook! I want her to be angry with me, I want her to see me, to want to see me! I want her to fight with me, because that’s all we fucking do nowdays and it’s all my fucking fault! Once again, I ruined the best chance I’ve ever had with tennis!” He shouted, standing up tall in front of Patrick. “And yes, Patrick, I’m aware that you’re dating Tashi and that you think I’m jealous, well I’m fucking not! I just want my girlfriend to still want to be my girlfriend! My Y/n to still be my Y/n! So don’t come to me every fucking time Tashi pisses you off, telling me that ‘I can have her’ because I don’t fucking want her!”

Patrick sat there stunned. Art had never raised his voice at him.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find my girlfriend,” Art said after gaining his composure once more, and starting to walk down the hall. 

“Ex-girlfriend!” Patrick shouted after him, rubbing salt in the wound. Art flipped him his middle finger, and set off to find you.

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Art didn’t find you before the match, but he was sitting beside an upset Patrick. 

You came out in your Nike tennis outfit, Tashi in her Adidas, and the match began. 

What ensued was real tennis. Tashi was talented, yes. But you, you were on fire. You beat Tashi Duncan. You actually beat Tashi Duncan. 

Art couldn’t have been more proud. Or worried. 

What if this actually was his last chance and he blew it on Tashi?

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He knocked on your dorm door with a bunch of lilies in his hand, your favourite. He had a whole plan, he would apologise, grovel, congratulate, then fuck you. Then, he’d spend all weekend with you and go into San Francisco for a city break. 

You opened the door wearing one of his sweaters, a sleepy, but upset look in your eyes. “What?”

“Can we talk?” He asked, a smile on his face at your beautiful and drowsy state. 

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes and stepped outside instead of letting him in. Odd. 

“I’m so sorry, I thought that the final ended at 2:30 and when I got there you were gone-”

“What time did you get there?” You asked, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“2:30?” he lied. 

“No you didn’t. I waited until 2:40 for you Art, fucking praying you would show up, don’t lie to me.”

Art sighed. “I’m sorry baby.”

“Look Art, I’m getting really tired of being second place to everyone, sorry- to Tashi, in your life so please just let me go,” you asked. “Now, I would really like to get back into my dorm.”

Art knew he had to fight for you. “Please, I wanted to make it up to you, I thought he could go to San-Fran this weekend, just you and me, no tennis, no distractions.”

“I have a match this weekend Art,” you rolled your eyes and Art sighed, realising he’d forgotten. “Y’know, the one you promised me you’d be at so you could meet my parents?”

“Yes of course, you know I’ll be there, I meant after we could go to San-Fran,” he smiled, his hands on your hips. 

“Don’t bother coming, we’re done,” you shoved his hands off your body and walked back to your door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a very hot guy from my science class who would like to fuck me again, so I’ll see you around Arthur.”

You slammed the door in his face and his heart broke, he had lost you. 

He had made his choices, and lost all of his chances.

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navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

PART 3: choices and meetings

art donaldson masterlist :)

[alphajocklover]

Hey man, thanks for the treats! So here’s the deal, I’m a 23-year-old med student, blonde, green eyes, skinnier than I’d like to be, but I’m literally too busy to do anything but study, let alone hit the gym like I really wanna. Even though "relaxing" ain’t in my vocab right now 'cause of the stress I’m livin' with, sometimes I treat myself to a Snickers bar. So yeah, that’d be my pick!

You had never wanted to be that kind of guy, the one whose life revolved around school and studying. You had always been a hard worker, you had to be to get into medical school in the first place, but you had always prided yourself on having a good work-life-studying balance. It had never been easy, but throughout both high school and college you had managed to keep up your grades, work part time to save up for medical school, and have a satisfying social life with a number of close friends. Hell, back in high school you were actually fairly popular. Now that you were in medical school though, it seemed like everything else in your life was falling to the wayside. You didn’t have time for hobbies, parties or friends, you didn’t even have time for your old part time job anymore, as the hours conflicted with your new schedule. The worst part was that even after giving up all that you were still struggling to keep up. You had always been a smart guy, one who thrived in school, but now it seemed that no matter what you did, no matter how much you sacrificed, it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t imagine how hard things would get in two years when you had to do clinicals and actually work at a hospital. You hated to admit it, but your dream of being a doctor had started to feel like a huge trap.

Today was your first night off in months. You had just finished a big exam, one you were certain you only barely passed, and were overjoyed to finally have a moment to relax, even if you were too exhausted to actually do anything fun. You were so tired from everything and so happy to have some time that wasn’t spent studying that you didn’t even question the snickers bar you found in your pantry, convincing yourself you had bought it at a vending machine or something and simply forgotten. You tore off the snickers wrapper carelessly, and took a big bite as you flopped down on a nearby couch, your mind racing as you did. As the chocolate and caramel danced on your tongue, you let your mind wander, imagining if things were different. If you had gone a different route in life, one that allowed you a little more time to just be yourself instead of constantly working. You imagined a life where you didn’t spend so much time worrying about your grades and where you didn’t need to work a part time job to save up for college. Instead of studying you could have thrown yourself into something else, something fun like a club or a sports team. A part of you had always been jealous of how carefree the guys on the football club seemed to be, the guys who worked out for fun or to challenge themselves, not because they were trying to be responsible. Maybe if you hadn’t been so obsessed with your future career, the one you were no longer sure you wanted, you could have been like them. You were fairly athletic in high school, but if you worked out seriously you could have gotten absolutely huge. You could imagine yourself with a body like one of those jocks, or even one better than one of those jocks. In your mind you could picture yourself with broad shoulders and beastly biceps. If you hadn’t spent all that time working at a shitty job to save up for med school you could have had that. You could have joined a sports team, probably football or wrestling. You could have made friends with your teammates. Instead of being fairly popular you could have been the big man on campus! You can almost picture yourself playing football, working out with the guys, making out with cheerleaders. You never thought you wanted a life like that, and had always thought of people who lived for pleasure and fun as being frivolous, dumb even, but… looking back, you can’t help but wonder what it would have been like, what you would have been like.

You relaxed into the couch and let your imagination start to run wild, your body tingling as you did. You imagined going from high school and into college, not having to scrimp and save like some loser, getting by on family money and your football skills. You imagined not worrying about grades, cause only nerds and losers did that, and instead just enjoying your life as an all around stud and football god. You imagined having a different major, probably something cool like business or kinesiology, something that would help you open your own gym one day so that party wouldn’t have to stop when college did. You imagined a life where instead of always working towards a future that disappointed you, you enjoyed the here and now. A life where you could just relax. 

You had gotten so lost in your thoughts that it took you a moment to realize you had finished the Snickers Bar. As you realized you had eaten the whole thing without even thinking about it, you felt a slight chuckle escape your lips, one that quickly grew into a manly guffaw. Did you really just eat the whole Snicker Bar without even thinking about it or enjoying the taste? That was the one cheat on your diet you allowed yourself a week! You could be such a dumbass sometimes. Not that it really mattered. Being smart was for fucking geeks.

You laughed a little as you tried to remember what you had been thinking about moments before. You could swear you were wondering about what your life would be like if you were different… but why would you ever want to be? You had a killer body, great bros to hang with, a sweet job as a personal trainer, and chicks and twinks throwing themselves at you almost every night. Why would you want your life to be any different? The idea of you wanting to be anyone besides the awesome, laidback stud you are… its fucking laughable!