#I kind of like the new version on crazy in love?

[puckleberryfinnie]

covey!reader in the quarter quell (opening ceremony!!)

read these first for this to make a bit more sense!

original idea post: click me!

introduction story: click me!

thank you to anyone who showed support in any way on the first introduction for this, it means a lot <33 there’s a lot of just reader content in this (mostly because I’m still working on doing a large amount of dialogue between characters), so if you want, you can skip to later down into this to find more interesting stuff!!

summary: reader goes through the opening ceremony process, meeting people along the way!! - reader meets a bunch of the characters! (Finnick, Johanna, Katniss and Peeta)

warnings: fem!reader, slight mention of ptsd?, alcohol, really bad writing (specifically dialogue)

“Get to know those new winners, the lovers. It’ll be good for your image,” she had said, pouring herself another cup. “It’s not lookin’ too good, kiddo. I’ll miss ya’, if I’m honest.”

Both of you knew your partner- the 50 year old, previous farmer, current jobless winner, would be no help to you. He’d made it known very early on that he hated you- hated the Covey as a whole, if we’re being honest. No amount of kindness, no amount of cheerful smiles could make this man like you. If he saw you in the games, he’d kill you. No hesitation, especially if it meant his chance at survival.

The predestined goodbyes made your heart ache, but in reality, they were better than none at all. Getting one last word in was something of importance to you, with anyone you loved. The games had forced you to realize the value of human life more than ever.

Those lovers, though. Katniss and Peeta- You’d have to understand them, before you arrived. Even if you couldn’t make it out alive, you’d like friends in your final moments. Someone to talk to. The last games had been filled with sleepless nights alone, humming melodies to the mockingbirds in the trees. “K-A-T-N-I-S-S,” typed slowly into your search engine device, one implanted into a high-tech table on the traveling train, headed for the Capital. Millions of articles popped up, lighting up the screen with bold titles, attached with colorful images. This Katniss girl, she was something different from the tributes you’d met. There was no determinable factor to it, she just had something about her that made you curious. You dismissed the thought, closing out the browser before turning your head, looking out the fast-moving train through the pristine, freshly cleaned windows.

It didn’t take too long for you to arrive at your all-too-familiar destination- the Capital buildings towering over you, providing shade for your short trip to the training/housing facility. There were people calling out your name as you walked along the gold paved path, asking you questions. All of them wanted to get the inside scoop on the nearly-dead, newly returned tributes, getting their last words before they reached the end of their life. You smiled, waved, said hello to the reporters before escaping them through the front doors of the tall building in front of you.

The outfits available to you for the opening ceremony were better this time around. Your stylist, bless her heart, knew nothing of Covey fashion, and struggled with finding something with farmy-like elements of District 11 while still reaching the level of luxury an event like this one required. This year’s selections were much better- she took the Covey’s bright colors, taking inspiration from patterns found in the little art markets that used to be found in District 11 and 12, tended to by Coveys looking for some extra money for dinner. You picked the one you found the most suitable for yourself, knowing you’d at least semi-match with your partner.

Exiting the building into an area close to the path for the ceremony, you saw many familiar tributes standing around. Johanna Mason. Finnick Odair. Beetee and sweet old Mags. Despite the screaming from the crowd who’d catched a glimmer of your appearance, you calmly walked towards your pair of horses, placed in front of District 12’s. Katniss was standing there, brushing her hand along her horse.

Walking up to Katniss wasn’t a problem- your mama raised you to be confident like that, knowing that’s the only way to live the Covey life. Smile raised, you prepared to give a classic Covey welcome, sure to draw anyone in!

“Katniss, right? Y/N L/N! I love the dress.”

Poor Katniss had been a bit frightened, not planning for anyone to approach her during this experience. She’d seen you before, though- in the games before hers. She’d remembered Prim saying something about her wanting to win the games like you had- no killing, no violence perpetrated on her part. It’d stuck with Katniss after her own games, knowing she’d played against her sisters ‘morality rules’ with her ever-lethal bow and arrow.

Haymitch had mentioned the girl, too- “she’s not much of a threat- that voice of hers is her only weapon when it comes down to it. But she’s smart- slick and sneaky in the arena. An ally like her would mean more sponsors (her adoring fans) and better hiding places.”

Before Katniss could even get in a word to you, a large arm was wrapped around your shoulders, making you tense up slightly before relaxing at the slight of the boy next to you. Finnick. Finnick Odair. You didn’t know him very well, but whenever you sang for those Capital parties, he’d make sure to send a compliment your way, sauntering off after talking for a moment.

“Now, what’re you girls talking about? Me, I’d suspect?” Finnick gave Katniss a nod before looking down at you, smirking.

“You wish, golden boy,” you laughed, taking a closer look at his ensemble of clothing (or lack thereof) for the evening. You turned back to Katniss, still very aware of the touch between you two.

Katniss gave a strange look to the two of you before saying “Yeah, definitely not talking about you… maybe that ridiculous outfit, though.”

“Ouch! I think it looks pretty nice, don’t you think, singer girl?”

“It’s alright, I guess. Not much to look at, though.” You answered.

“Oh, believe me, singer girl, there’s plenty to look at.” He winked, before walking off with a smile on his face.

You watched as he walked away, realizing what he was insinuating. You slowly turned back towards Katniss, shaking your head before resuming your conversation, the one left unattended when Finnick had blessed the girls with his presence. Now, however, a new person has joined your duo- Peeta. Peeta looked a lot kinder than Katniss, his overall aura more inviting.

“Anyways- I wanted to come meet you, given we’re the two newest winners.” You smiled before lowering your voice to a quiet whisper, leaning closer to the pair. “Covey has loved what you’ve done so far, with the movement and everything. I’ll help in any way I can.” Noticing the cameras pointed right towards you three from above you, you ended the conversation as quickly as possible with: “Well, thank you for your time! I better get to my ride before it leaves without me.” You waved before walking quickly to your place in line, fixing your outfit before getting ready in your pose.

The opening ceremony was the same as last year, for the most part. Not as much smiling, though. A lot more frowns and angry faces were found on the faces of tributes highlighted on the giant projector screen. You kept your smile, though. Smiling and waving is what you knew best. Before long, the event was over, and you found yourself heading to your assigned room. Considering your living space was the second highest floor (District 11 bonus!)taking an elevator was your most efficient mode of travel. There weren’t too many tributes left on ground floor level, most of them had found their way to their rooms at this point.

“Mind if I step in, Songbird?” Johanna Mason, leaning against the elevator door, smiling expectantly at you, waiting for an answer.

“No, no, I don’t mind. Come on in!”

Johanna strutted into the elevator, standing awfully close to you, both of your shoulders almost touching.”Thanks. Johanna, by the way.” She said, turning towards you.

“Lovely to meet you, I’m Y/N.”

“Oh, believe me, I know your name. I see you singing those songs of yours all the time. Pretty good, if you ask me.”

“Oh? Well, thank you! It’s… disappointing that my music will be going away pretty soon… with the games and all…”

“I think there’s some more song left in you, Songbird.’ Johanna sent a slight smile your way before stepping forward with the ding of the elevator. The doors open to her floor, and she steps out before turning around again, “Nice talk, Y/N. See you soon.” The doors close, leaving you alone in the elevator.

You fell asleep promptly after arriving in your room- the day had been quite tiring for you, and you needed to prepare for the next day ahead of you, too. You’d begin training tomorrow, and soon enough you’d have your all-too-stressful skill evaluations. And there always was the impending doom shadowing over every thought in the form of the start of the games, just a week away. As you drifted off, you thought of relationships you’d form in these next days, vital to keep your ever-falling spirits from reaching rock bottom.

ooo they’re flirting with youuuu

I hope you guys liked this little part of the story, let me know if you want more or want to be added to the tag list for this series <33 I’m soso sorry this took me so long, too!! I already have some parts of another chapter started, so it should come sooner!! hopefully my writing had improved just a little, I promise I’m trying <33

INBOX IS OPEN FOR REQUESTS OR CHATS <33

tag list (love you cutie patooties so much 💋💋)

@randomgurl2326

@marvelescvpe

love ya!!

[sergle]

I love to hear what people say about Youtube Drama* but it's SO tacky when it gets so offbase that the posts people make start to be about completely off topic infighting within the Watcher fanbase

[minakoaiinos]

Lost my original post of this from the other day but I genuinely don't understand how Black Butler discourse ever shifted into the does Sebastian ~really~ like Ciel or is Ciel just dinner line of conversation that is pervasive as it is because Sebastian is the one that has absorbed his whole existence into Ciel's. Sebastian's face is what Ciel wants Sebastian's whole purpose is doing things for Ciel Sebastian's every hell of a butler yes my lord speech is about how he's Ciel's and Ciel is the one going around saying shit like whatever Sebastian is just my pawn 💅

[bmpmp3]

holy FUCK IA's voisona 2.0 is OUT

[grasshoppergeography]

Hey All,

I've been away for some time, as we've been working really hard on something quite exciting:

let me present to you the world's first ever global ocean drainage basin map that shows all permanent and temporary water flows on the planet.

This is quite big news, as far as I know this has never been done before. There are hundreds of hours of work in it (with the data + manual work as well) and it's quite a relief that they are all finished now.

But what is an ocean drainage basin map, I hear most of you asking? A couple of years ago I tried to find a map that shows which ocean does each of the world's rivers end up in. I was a bit surprised to see there is no map like that, so I just decided I'll make it myself - as usual :) Well, after realizing all the technical difficulties, I wasn't so surprised any more that it didn't exist. So yeah, it was quite a challenge but I am very happy with the result.

In addition to the global map I've created a set of 43 maps for different countries, states and continents, four versions for each: maps with white and black background, and a version for both with coloured oceans (aka polygons). Here's the global map with polygons:

I know from experience that maps can be great conversation starters, and I aim to make maps that are visually striking and can effectively deliver a message. With these ocean drainage basin maps the most important part was to make them easily understandable, so after you have seen one, the others all become effortless to interpret as well. Let me know how I did, I really appreciate any and all kinds of feedback.

Here are a few more from the set, I hope you too learn something new from them. I certainly did, and I am a geographer.

The greatest surprise with Europe is that its biggest river is all grey, as the Volga flows into the Caspian sea, therefore its basin counts as endorheic.

An endorheic basin is one which never reaches the ocean, mostly because it dries out in desert areas or ends up in lakes with no outflow. The biggest endorheic basin is the Caspian’s, but the area of the Great Basin in the US is also a good example of endorheic basins.

I love how the green of the Atlantic Ocean tangles together in the middle.

No, the dividing line is not at Cape Town, unfortunately.

I know these two colours weren’t the best choice for colourblind people and I sincerely apologize for that. I’ve been planning to make colourblind-friendly versions of my maps for ages now – still not sure when I get there, but I want you to know that it’s just moved up on my todo-list. A lot further up.

Minnesota is quite crazy with all that blue, right? Some other US states that are equally mind-blowing: North Dakota, New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming. You can check them all out here.

Yes, most of the Peruvian waters drain into the Atlantic Ocean. Here are the maps of Peru, if you want to take a closer look.

Asia is amazingly colourful with lots of endorheic basins in the middle areas: deserts, the Himalayas and the Caspian sea are to blame. Also note how the Indonesian islands of Java and Sumatra are divided.

I mentioned earlier that I also made white versions of all maps. Here’s Australia with its vast deserts. If you're wondering about the weird lines in the middle: that’s the Simpson desert with its famous parallel sand dunes.

North America with white background and colourful oceans looks pretty neat, I think.

Finally, I made the drainage basin maps of the individual oceans: The Atlantic, the Arctic, the Indian and the Pacific. The Arctic is my favourite one.

I really hope you like my new maps, and that they will become as popular as my river basin maps. Those have already helped dozens of environmental NGOs to illustrate their important messages all around the world. It would be nice if these maps too could find their purpose.

[reysdriver]

Keeping It Quiet | E.M.

Eddie comes to visit you when everyone is sleeping... or so you thought — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: suggestive content, making out, fear of getting caught, jokes about guns/getting shot

words: 1.7k

a/n: idgaf about timeline or continuity with the show when I do this series of oneshots, it's just kind of an alternate version of the show where Hopper is still here around the events of season 4 ig (also I LOVE this gif of joseph omg)

It was late at night, but you weren’t sleeping. You were taking advantage of the quiet house and catching up on some reading that finally wasn’t for school. You laid with the book at the foot of your bed, and your feet dangling over your pile of stuffed animals right by your pillows. 

It was so comfortable, you forgot about the world around you. 

And you were only brought back by the terrifying sound of someone knocking on your window. It scared you right out of your haze, at least until you looked outside and realised who it was. 

Eddie was standing right outside your bedroom wall with a stupid grin on his face, and he was pointing to the windowsill, wordlessly asking you to let him in. 

After rolling your eyes and marking your spot in the book, you got up and opened the window for your boyfriend. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, leaning over the separation to peck his lips quickly. 

“Not quite the warm welcome I was expecting.” He grunted, using the log you had placed under your window to climb in your room. “You’re not happy to see me?”

“You scared the hell out of me ‘cause you didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

“I didn’t know I was coming over until I was already in my van. I haven’t seen you in forever, plus I had something I wanted to show you.”

The last part was intriguing, but you still wanted to correct his dramatics. You’ve learned that if you didn’t act as the voice of reason sometimes, he would start believing his own exaggerations.

“It’s been two days since you last saw me.” And it didn’t take long for you to give in to whatever he was hiding. “But what is it that I have to see?” 

He let out an exaggerated sigh as he flopped down on the end of your bed. He looked up at you with fake sadness. “I should have known you would only like me for material things, Madonna.” 

“So what if I was a material girl? You’d still love me anyways.” 

He started speaking like he was in the school play, which he would never do. “It’s just sad—”

You jumped towards him to cover his mouth with your hand. As much as you loved his antics and would encourage it at any other time, it was all quiet in your house and you were petrified of waking your family. 

“Are you crazy?” You asked him in a hushed scold. 

He just nodded happily since he couldn’t speak with your hand still over his mouth. 

“If my dad hears you, he’ll burst into the room with a gun in his hand. You might be able to charm the pants off of me effortlessly, but I think you’d get shot if you tried to test your charisma on the chief of police.” 

You cautiously took your hand away from Eddie’s face while he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Stop looking at me like that and show me what you wanted me to see in the first place.” You told him, sternly but lovingly. 

“Wow, you really are the chief’s daughter.” He joked as he stood up and took off his leather jacket. 

You figured he was just making himself comfortable, but when he started taking off the t-shirt he was wearing underneath the coat, you wondered what was really going on. 

Then you saw it. 

On his right side, where his rib cage ends, there was a new tattoo. A flaming sword that you knew was based on his current—and favourite—Dungeons and Dragons campaign of his. 

He pointed to the pommel of the weapon, which was a heart shaped gemstone. 

“Did you see the end? It doesn’t have anything to do with the game, but I designed it while thinking of you.” He smiled at you, and you smiled back. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, Eds.” You answered sincerely. “When did you get it done?”

“Friday. Right after your dad picked you up from the mall.”

“Did it hurt?”

He shook his head as he gently pushed you back against your pillows, then positioned himself on top of you.

“Not as much as it hurts to be away from you.”

You had to stifle your own laugh at his corniness. As stupid as it was, you did feel kind of flattered by him at that moment. And that’s exactly why you let him kiss you, despite you being just a few decibels away from your sleeping father waking up and grounding you permanently for sneaking a boy in. 

But you pushed all your worries aside and let him press his luscious lips against yours. God, how you couldn’t get enough of that sensation. 

You loved how he kissed you just because he likes to kiss you, how he used flavoured chapstick so he could heal his chapped lips, and how he always tasted faintly of cigarettes and the lemon candies you got him hooked on. 

You loved all that almost as much as what came next. 

When he moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, and then your neck. He nipped the skin just lightly and then continued to work his magic. You had both noted another time just like this that your bodies must be made for each other, and this exact moment was perfect proof for that claim. 

“Oh, god, Eddie. You’re so good at this.” You praised, trying to keep your voice down. 

He mumbled an ‘mhm?’ against your throat. He was such a sucker for your affirmations. 

“Yeah. Just be careful not to leave a bruise.”

Eddie lifted his head up, causing your face to morph into a frown from the expression of pleasure just a second ago. 

“You don’t want little reminders of my love?” He asked, lips exaggeratedly pouted. 

“Not when my family can see them, loverboy.”

He seemed satisfied with that response, returning his attention to you and practically attacking your neck with his kisses. The way his mouth was worshipping your neck damn near put you in a trance. It was so good that you didn’t even notice the soft knock at your door, nor the opening that followed it. 

When your younger sister called out your name softly, that’s when you realised the importance of not letting your guard down. You tried to push Eddie off of you as he hadn’t seen Eleven there yet, but he got up quickly once he did notice. 

You urged him to sit down and stay silent while you pulled El away from your bedroom and into the bathroom, all while your sister stared at you with a wide-eyed expression. 

Eleven was the first one to speak between you two. “Who was that in your room?”

“That was my friend.” You said, partially honest. He was your friend, he was just also more. “His name is Eddie.”

“What were you and Eddie doing?”

You racked your brain, trying to think of something believable to say that would get your sister off your back. You really should have prepared a lie before this, because it was proving to be more difficult than you would have thought; of course, you never really thought about your sister catching you making out with your shirtless boyfriend.

“We were playing.” You answered as confidently as possible. 

“Playing?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, you know when you and I play-fight, like wrestling? When Dad sometimes thinks we’re hurting each other but we’re really just having fun?”

“So you and Eddie were just having fun?”

“Mhm.” You ran a hand through her hair, feeling somewhat guilty about your lie. “Why? Were you worried about me?”

She didn’t seem fazed at all by your fingers combing through her hair, but her cheeks flooded with pink when you asked if she knocked on your door out of concern for you. 

“I heard you were awake and I wanted to know what you were doing.” Eleven told you. 

It really was nothing embarrassing, she’s just a shy girl. And now you felt less guilty about lying since you know she was just curious rather than upset. 

“Well, I was just playing with my friend. But, don’t tell Dad about Eddie, okay?”

“Why not?”

Another question you didn’t quite have an answer for. Luckily, you were quick enough on your toes that your little sister wouldn’t notice the nonsense spilling from your mouth. 

“You know Dad can be a fun sponge sometimes. Like when he spends an hour questioning your friends before you can hang out, or when he won’t let us turn the couch into a pillow fort. If he hears about Eddie, he won’t let us have fun together anymore, and I would be really sad if I couldn’t see my friend.”

She seemed to be eating your excuse up, knowing exactly what you meant.

“Okay. I won’t tell him.” She agreed. “I don’t want you to be sad.”

“And I don’t want you to be tired, little lady. So, now that you know what you wanted to learn, how about you go back to sleep, okay?”

“Okay, goodnight.”

She opened the slightly creaky bathroom door and headed back to her bedroom, hopefully to fall back asleep soon. 

“Goodnight, El. Sleep tight.” You called in a volume just above the whisper you were using just seconds before.

You stood in the bathroom alone after you heard your sister’s bedroom door close. For a minute, you just listened to everything around your house. The quiet wind blowing outside, the sounds of Eddie flipping through your books as he waited for you to come back, and best of all, not a peep from your father’s room. 

It was safe to return to Eddie in your bedroom and resume the fooling around from before. 

Once you silently pushed open your door, closed it again, and sat down next to your boyfriend on the corner of your bed, he pulled you onto his lap. 

“So, we’re in the clear now?” Eddie asked you. 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we can be any less careful than usual. That just proves my family can hear us, so let’s not be stupid.”

A flirty grin spread across Eddie’s face as he trailed his fingers under your shirt and up your sides. “Baby, I can’t promise anything. Stupid is my middle name.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

defending you (nsfw version)

i somehow forgot this fic when i was reuploading all the ones from my old blog. fun fact: this is the first rafe fic i ever wrote! and i actually wrote two different versions. this is the established relationship and smut version, here is the sfw version!

words: 3.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, bullying?, violence, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, daddy kink, fingering, female receiving oral,

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450

“rafe!” you yell, relieved to see him standing out on his dock, sorting through something in a box. you swim closer, the final stretch of the long distance somehow seeming like miles.

“rafe!” you yell again, waiting for him to hear, but you know the sound of the whipping wind is carrying your voice in the opposite direction.

rafe straightens up, and turns back towards tanneyhill. “rafe!” you’re yelling desperately at this point. he finally turns, having heard what he thought was his name. he scans the dock quickly, thinking he’s going crazy hearing things, and then he sees you wave at him frantically from in the water.

“y/n?” rafe screams, his face going pale seeing you swimming towards the dock.

“rafe.” you smile, received to finally be done with your long swim. 

“what are you doing?” rafe rushes towards the ladder as you begin to climb up, legs and arms weak. “the water is freezing and there’s a storm coming in.”

“i know.” you shiver as you pull yourself onto the dock, with help from rafe. you can’t even stand as your legs crumble. “i was paddleboarding before the storm came and someone came and knocked me off my board and took it and my paddle. i swam here because it was closest.”

you’ve never formally labeled your relationship with rafe, not beyond him calling you ‘my girl’, but everyone on the island knows you’re an item. 

it all started with your friendship with sarah. you’re not rich enough to be a kook, but not poor enough to be a pogue, leaving you in a weird middle ground that you’ve grown to love, getting accepted into both groups' parties. you became friends with sarah pretty quickly when you both agreed that the silly feud between the two sides of the island has gotten too extreme.

whenever you would sleep over with sarah, or even just head out to surf or get ice cream, rafe would find some sort of way to be involved, much to sarah’s annoyance and your joy.

it wasn’t until you and sarah began to grow apart that rafe made his move. he kissed you one night at a party and ever since then, it’s been the two of you against the world. you still get along with sarah, but it’s different now that you’re with her brother.

“who took your board?” rafe eyes flash with anger, the kind all the pogues tell you he’s capable of, but that you haven’t seen for yourself. you know rafe hides his bad parts from you, but you’ve heard whisperings from people about the best place to score on the island, and that his rage can get out of control.

“kelce’s friend. i don’t know his name. that blonde guy.”

“topper?” rafe questions, knowing it can’t be him, but can’t think of any other guy you might be referring to.

“no, no. that new guy. family just moved into that blue house.”

“luke?” rafe practically spits his name out.

“yeah, him.” you nod, a shiver racking through your body. the water was the coldest you’ve ever felt it in obx, but thankfully your hard swimming kept you from being too cold. it’s only now, on the dock with the harsh wind, that you feel the real chill.

“hold on, let me get you a towel.” rafe curses himself for not getting you one quicker. he runs to the nearest boat, flipping open a seat and grabbing the fluffiest, warmest towel he sees.

rafe helps you stand now that you’ve got some feeling back in your legs. he wraps the towel tightly around you, pulling you into his arms to warm you up even more.

“what kind of boat was he driving?” rafe asks

you don’t want to talk, or think, just want to lay your head against rafe’s chest and soak up his warmth, but you’re eventually able to mutter out, “a black speedboat. i don’t know more than that, it all happened so fast.” truth was, you knew it was an expensive brand, just way beyond anything your family would be able to afford, so you had no clue what it was.

“and he just came and knocked you off?” rafe curses himself as soon as he says it, because it sounds like he doesn’t believe you, but really he just wants to get the story straight before he beats this guy to a pulp.

“yeah.” you sniffle. “he made a huge wake on purpose that made me fall off, and then he just grabbed my board and paddle before i could get back on.”

“y/n?” you hear your name being called and turn to look down the dock at ward and rose, concern etched over their features. you got along decent well with them, being invited to some family dinners with rafe, but there was still a bit of awkwardness, you being the first longterm girlfriend that rafe has ever had.

“hi, sir.” you say as he walks closer, stepping out of rafe’s arms.

“don’t tell me you were swimming in this weather.” ward says. it is unseasonably cold in the outer banks, and the wind is picking up every second with dark clouds on the horizon.

“not intentionally.” you shake your head. "someone knocked me off my paddleboard and they took it. i swam here because it was closest."

ward looks at his son, and rafe gives a stern nod, a silent conversation happening that you’re not privy to.

“i’m gonna go get your board back for you, y/n.” rafe says, effortlessly snatching the boat keys out of the air that his father tosses to him.

“rafe, i don’t expect you to do that. plus the storm-” your worried expression is snatched off of your face with a quick kiss from rafe.

“we look out for own here, yeah?” rafe says, hand coming to your face and pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

“thank you.” you say with a tight swallow of your throat, worried about rafe in this weather, but knowing that there’s no stopping him.

“i’ll be back soon, you go inside and warm up, okay?” rafe says, stepping back towards the boat. you nod, a tight feeling twisting in your stomach as you watch rafe going to defend you, going to get back what’s yours. he especially knows what that paddleboard means to you, having bought it for you himself. you had one from your parents, but it was a few years old and worn from how much you use it.

“come on, y/n.” rose says, placing a hand on your back as you walk up the dock to the house.

“thank you so much.” you say as you reach the kitchen, rose handing you a glass of water.

“no problem at all, you know you’re always welcome here.” ward says, and you almost blush at the approval of rafe’s father. you’ve always tried hard to get on his good side, being almost overly polite and helping out whenever needed, but what really won rose and ward over was rose going to your mothers hair salon. it’s the best on the island and your mom gives her extra product since you’re with her stepson.

“are you okay? can i get you anything else?” rose asks you.

“no, thank you so much. i might just go hop in the shower and wait for rafe to come back in his room, if you don’t mind?” you give the best pleading puppy dog eyes you can to ward, and he nods after only a second of hesitation. he doesn’t like you being in rafes room, and usually makes you hang out in common areas, which lead to a lot of interrupted cuddling or makeout sessions.

it’s not like ward is completely unaware what you two get up to, he even one time bought rafe a pack of condoms and attempted to have a safe sex conversation with him, much to rafe’s dismay, which he later recanted to you, before pouting that you were giggling at him, but made up for it by putting one of those condoms to good use.

“thank you again for helping me, i was so scared out there all alone.” 

“go before i change my mind.” ward says. you give a flash of a smile before speed walking towards rafe’s room, a path you know by heart. you undress in his attached bathroom, leaving your wet clothes on the floor.

you take a deep sigh of relief at the warm water, but you don’t want to spend too long in there, anxiously awaiting rafes arrival back. you use his soap, the one that leaves a scent on his skin that you’re obsessed with, but forgo trying to control your hair, opting to put it up in a bun with the hair ties he leaves in his bathroom cabinet for you.

you end up grabbing clothes from rafes closet, even though you know sarah won’t mind if you borrow some of hers, putting on one of the few casual tshirts rafe has, as well as his boxers in favor of actual bottoms.

you’ve warmed up a lot, but there’s still a chill in your bones, so you slide under the covers, flipping on the tv, missing your phone at this moment which is sitting at home, waiting for you to return from your paddleboarding trip.

you’re about to drift off when the door suddenly opens.

“rafe.” you breath out, hopping out of the bed to go to him. he’s soaking wet from the rain that came in with the storm, but he’s got a proud gleam in his eye.

“i got your board back.” rafe says. “and that asshole won’t mess with you anymore.”

you gulp, hoping that just means rafe gave him a stern talking to, but as you look down at his knuckles, you can tell it’s not true.

“rafe!” you gasp, grabbing his hand and lifting it up. his knuckles are red and looked bruised.

“it’s alright, baby.” rafe says, stepping into the room and closing and locking the door behind him. “i just punched him once so he would know not to mess with you again. i know you don’t like violence, but he needed to learn his lesson not to mess with you.”

you pout, but nod in agreement. you certainly wouldn’t want any other girls, or anyone at all for that matter, to fall victim to the same ‘prank’ he did to you. 

“thank you so much.” you place your hands on rafes neck and bring his head down so you can kiss him, having to get up on your tippy toes to do so.

“anything for you baby, you know how much i love you.” but you don’t, and you freeze at the words.

“what, you don’t love me back?” rafe teases, acting like he didn’t just drop something so huge for the first time in your relationship.

“of course i love you, rafey, i just didn’t expect you to say it.” you blush, ducking your head. you’ve actually thought over the past couple months about your time with rafe, how safe and loved he made you feel. it came naturally to you, loving him.

rafe ducks down for a strong kiss, leaving you breathless when he pulls away and strides towards the bathroom. “gonna shower quickly princess, you get back in bed.”

“okay.” you say shyly, suddenly nervous. you get back under the covers, thankful for the thick comforter wrapping you in warmth. your eyes return to the tv, and you don’t even realize that you’ve started to drift off until you’re suddenly awoken by the bathroom door opening and shutting and rafe stepping out in just a towel wrapped around his waist.

“oh, i’m sorry baby, i didn’t mean to wake you.” rafe says, seeing the sleep in your eyes and how desperately you need it.

“it’s okay.” you sit up, only for rafe to gently push your shoulder back into bed. he climbs in next to you, leaving the towel around his waist much to your disappointment.

“but i have to thank you for getting my board back.” you pout as rafe wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest.

“you can thank me once you’ve rested.” rafe says, stretching to turn the lamp next to the bed off. he also turns down the tv, but leaves it on.

“mmkay.” you really don’t have it within you to argue. you lay your head against rafe’s chest and snuggle close, a shiver wracking through your body.

“are you still cold?” rafe’s body tenses under you.

“i think the effects are still wearing off, im okay though, promise.” you really don’t want rafe to leave to go punch luke again, so calming him down is your best bet.

“i got something that can warm you up, princess.” rafe says, hands suddenly finding your hips. his fingers skim underneath his boxers that you’re wearing, and you can’t help but let out a soft moan, knowing there’s no way ward or rose can hear you from the opposite wing of the house, and with the rain now battering against the windows.

“off, please.” rafe says, tugging them down. you help maneuver until you’re left in just his shirt.

rafe tugs you so you’re half on top of him, one leg slinged over his hips. his hands find your pussy instantly, pleased that your wetness is already growing.

“my pretty girl needs daddy, right?” rafe says, using the nickname for himself that has you biting your lip, feeling your nipples harden against his chest.

rafe laughs gently, fingers sweeping up and down the outsides of your folds, not moving closer like you want him to. he only teases for a minute before he presses his finger against your hole. you instantly relax at the familiar feeling, letting him shove his long and slender finger inside of you.

you’re able to get just enough angle to grind your clit into the towel, making his finger thrust in and out even easier. you let out a mewl as a second one presses against your entrance.

“you can take it, baby.” rafe says, causing you to shake your head. usually rafe gives you a lot of time to warm up before he even tries to finger or fuck you, knowing how much it helps you loosen up.

“you can.” rafe says, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “you wanna know how i know you can? because you’re my good little girl, and you’d never disappoint me. so you’re gonna take both my fingers, and then you’re gonna take my cock, alright?”

you stay silent as his second finger enters you, it only burns for a split second before the pleasure returns.

“answer me.” rafe says softly, knowing better than to be too rough with you considering what you just went through.

“gonna take your cock.” you nod. “gonna be good for you.” you lift your head off of his chest to kiss along his jaw, nipping at it with a giggle when he clenches it as you grind your hips just right to press against his cock, already completely hard under the towel.

rafe drags his fingers out, somewhat reluctantly as he already misses feeling you clenching around him, but is brought relief knowing his cock will be next. he pulls the towel to the side, letting himself spring free and rub against your bare pussy.

“do you trust me?” rafe whispers, not making any move to reach for a condom.

“of course.” you say, kissing the side of his mouth, “i love you.”

rafe slides his fingers up to your clit, rubbing it gently as he presses his cock against your entrance. you sink down onto him, eyes squeezing tightly closed as the pleasure takes over.

“good girl. almost all the way in.” rafe says, helping push your hips down until you’re fully rested on his cock. you lay your head back down on his chest, letting yourself breathe as you wait for rafe to begin to snap his hips up into you, or for his hands to tap your hips, signaling you to move.

it doesn’t come, and eventually you begin to rock, wondering if rafe was letting you take control.

“no, no, shhh.” rafe says, holding your hips down. “let me just warm you up from the inside baby, you go back to sleep. when you wake up i’ll put a condom on and fuck you like you deserve.”

you realize as he speaks that you are now completely warmed up, his cock bringing you to the perfect temperature.

“you sure, baby?” you ask, hoping he says yes, loving the thought of sleeping together, joined in the most intimate way.

“of course i’m sure. you keep my cock nice and warm in that sweet pussy and i’ll keep you warm in my arms.” 

“thank you.” you turn your head to kiss his chest. “i love you so much.”

“love you too. now close those beautiful eyes and get some rest. i know you’re tired.”

rafe is right, as soon as you stop fighting the sleep, you’re out like a light.

you’re not sure how long you sleep before a loud clap of thunder wakes you up. you lift your head, the only light in the room being from the tv, still on, now muted. 

you circle your hips, smiling at feeling rafe’s cock still deep inside you. “mmm, that feels good baby.” rafe says, also waking up from the storm.

“can you fuck me now?” you ask, almost politely. it makes rafe smile, thinking about what a good girl you are.

“i thought you said you wanted to thank me? don’t you wanna ride me?”

you nod quickly, glad to have a chance to be in charge. usually rafe is the one on top, not liking to be out of control, so you start moving before he has a chance to rethink.

you sit up, his cock hitting a whole different angle as your position changes.

“wait.” rafe places a hand on your hip. “let me put a condom on first.”

“it’s okay.” you say quietly, not sure if rafe feels the same way. “i’m on birth control and i’ll take a plan b tomorrow. you’re doing such a good job warming me up i want your cum warming my insides up too.”

this sends rafe into a spiral, the thoughts of flooding your insides, of marking you as his. even though he knows its too early, he thinks about the future where he gets to cum inside you with no birth control or plan b taken the next morning, seeing your tummy swell up, marking you as his.

his plants his feet on the bed and begins to fuck up into you, his hands lifting you up and down in pace with his thrusts. you place your hands on his chest to try to keep yourself stable, not regretting your words even though it now means you don’t get the control you were secretly excited for.

“you want me to fill you, huh, my perfect slut?” rafe asks, rubbing one hand aggressively over your clit.

“yes, rafe.” you whine, grinding into his thumb. his cock is throbbing inside you, and you know neither of you are going to last much longer, considering he’s been inside you for at least a couple hours.

rafe flips you suddenly, not wanting his little princess to have to do any more work than you need to. 

“so good rafey.” you whine, his cock hitting your sweet spot every time, making you see stars. 

your head picks up suddenly when his dick leaves you, making tears instantly fall from your eyes at the loss.

“it’s okay, baby, don’t cry.” rafe kisses the tears away quickly, before pressing one to your lips. “i just need to taste your pretty pussy before i cum all inside it.” 

rafe slinks down the bed, and you watch him with wide eyes. rafe will give you head sometimes, but he much prefers getting right into the action and fucking you, feeling no better joy than when you’re joined together.

rafe lays between your legs, adjusting his erection so he doesn’t cum on the bed from pressing against it. you spread your legs for him, giving him a shy smile as his eyes find yours.

“keep them open. look at me. watch the man who loves you kiss your pretty little pussy.” rafe’s words make you want to flutter your eyes close, to toss your head back, but you fight that instinct to keep looking at him.

rafe leans forward, licking from your dripping entrance all the way up to your clit. you moan as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking it harshly, wanting to get you as close as possible to cumming, because he knows once he’s inside of you again, he’s only lasting a couple thrusts.

he switches between tonguing at your clit and sucking on it, trying his best to keep you on your toes, not knowing what sensation to prepare for. he swipes his tongue down ever few moments, tasting your wetness like golden honey on his tongue.

“taste so sweet, princess.” rafe says, making an embarrassing slurping noise that has you momentarily covering your face with your hands, before remembering rafe’s order to keep your eyes on him. “gotta eat you out more often, my favorite little meal.”

your hands move to rafes hair, dragging him back up to your clit. rafe flattens his tongue against it, letting your hips move and grind just how you like it against his tongue.

“fuck baby.” rafe has to rip his head away as he feels your clit start to throb, signaling how close you are.

“need you rafey.” you whine. he moves quickly to your pleads, his cock reentering you quickly, hips thrusting wildly. he places the palm of his hand against your clit, grinding it down.

“fuck, baby, so good.” you whine. “so close rafey.” 

“me too, princess.” rafe says with a grunt, his voice gruffer than you’ve ever heard it. “gonna fill this pretty pussy up. my favorite little kitty. gonna breed you. you want my kids one day, huh?”

“yes, rafe, want your babies.” you cry out as you can’t hold back any longer, your orgasm washing over you like the waves outside hitting the shore. the tightening of your pussy around his cock has rafe cumming instantly, spurting thick ropes of white inside of you. 

he collapses down as the last few drops of cum are squeezed out of him by your pulsating pussy.

neither of you say anything for a few minutes, rafe just rolls you over so you’re on top of him, his cock still deep inside you, plugging you from letting any cum drip out.

rafe begins to slowly pull out, but your hips follow him. “please stay inside me until morning.” you pout.

“you want me in you all night?” rafe says, pushing some of your hair off your face that’s sticking to your sweat. 

you nod, tiredly blinking at him as sleep begins to overtake your body again. rafe smiles gently. “of course i’ll stay inside you.”

“thank you.” you whisper, kissing along his cheek, until you reach his mouth. your lips slide against each other, and you resist the urge to squeeze your pussy around him for a round 2, knowing how tired he must be from the sudden burst of energy.

you’ve never slept calmer than you have with rafe filling the missing pieces inside of you.

[chailovesu]

Random things u can add to your script if you are manifesting being famous

i think ima separate this into careers

model:

being on the cover of magazines

always knowing when a camera is on you + never have awkward pictures get popular

being considered one of the best new gen models and one of the best of all time

being signed to desired company

being the muse of a very famous designer

very photogenic/videogenic

have an iconic walk that everyone loves

you could be wearing something absolutely hideous but make it look good

singer/rapper:

every single song u make blows up on every platform

kind of rapper/singer that once u feature on a song its ur song now

if u cover a song the cover gets more famous bc it sounds better

popular dance trend being made to your songs

immunity to getting sued for copying a song

perfect stage presence

be able to dance and sing/rap at the same time

constantly be nominated for awards and win

any song u make constantly goes platinum and charts for months

having a song featured in a popular tv show/movie

be good at taking selcas and they always go viral on pinterest

easily hit high notes

unreleased music never gets leaked

being talented on a beyonce level

be invited to perform at places like the superbowl and coachella

be able to write ur own songs with unique lyrics

game streamer:

clips of u playing always go viral

have a connection with your subscribers + be everyones comfort streamer but not in a forced way

be really good at the games u play effortlessly and look good while playing

having merch that always get sold out

being seen as the main streamer for desired games

be entertaining to watch + funny things always happen on stream

subscribers always donate alot of money and give you gifts

collab with other famous streamers + everyone enjoys playing with you

have access to unreleased games early

have partnerships with really big brands

be gifted free games often by companies for promotions

people know u by face AND voice

if u wanna be a faceless streamer at first your face reveal blows up (in a good way not the dream way) and ur subscribers double bc of it

actor/actress:

being fancasted for your favorite cartoon character so much that u act in the live action version of it

always get paid a lot for your roles

have chemistry with your co-workers

be good at all type of acting (voice acting too)

easily attract roles

never get hate for the roles u act

always get awards for your acting

easily be able to do things like cry on command + be able to make your audience feel the emotion through the screen

be a very versatile actor like your range is crazy

applies to all:

seeing edits of yourself by talented editors often

pristine reputation + never being canceled

being that one celebrity that everyone defends like their life depends on it

Immunity to weird ppl finding out abt u

being likable in general any hate you receive just feels so forced

being alot of celebrities ideal type

being everyones celebrity crush

never having your xxxx exposed (or revise never taking any)

eye contact with u makes interviewers nervous like that one jhene aiko clip

people from your past only have good things to say + other celebrities love meeting you and only have good impressions of you

this one applies to acting and singing and modeling but being a highly sought-after person in that field

a fortnite skin? or being featured in your favorite game

still being safe going in public alone + fans respect your privacy

and if ur manifesting being a nepo baby

everyone supports you

in your childhood u were featured in alot of movies/shows (or just in the spotlight often) so people feel like they watched you grow up and adore u

being more famous than your parents + people feel like even if ur parents weren't famous u still would've gotten famous

having famous childhood friends

if i think of more ideas or careers ill make a pt2 but thats probably unlikely idk yet

[jarofstyles]

Y/N goes over to her friends house to sleepover but then her friend somehow makes plans like while Y/N is still there but she can’t leave cause her friend was her ride. what she doesn’t know is her best friends brother (harry) is home and sees this all happening and is angry because his sister always doing this to Y/N so he spends the night with her

I am a complete sucker for best friend’s brother H… completely down bad so yes !! I got carried away so maybe I’ll continue this as a one shot, I don’t know.

Check out our Patreon

——

“What are you still doin’ here?” Harry stopped short as he passed the den, seeing Y/N sitting stiffly with her phone in hand. It wasn’t unlike her to be at their place, but he had heard his sister’s car leave 30 minutes prior. He knew they’d had plans, as they usually did during the weekend, so it had caught him off guard.

That, and the fact that he’d have put a shirt on if he knew she was around.

Y/N startled slightly as she looked up at him wide eyed. She didn’t have time to hide her bloodshot eyes or the fact her makeup was messed up, making his confusion grow.

The fuck had happened?

“Hey… hey, what happened? Thought you both were goin’ out to that new place for your birthday weekend.” He walked towards the couch to see that she was indeed dressed up. A cute little black dress and her hair straightened, glitter on her eyelids. Heels were kicked off to the side and she had her nails done in a deep red, something very unlike her. Harry paid a little too much attention to her, it seemed, and it wasn’t her normal soft pastel colored nails with a pretty design. She looked different.

Like she was trying to be the stereotypical version of sexy or something. He couldn’t exactly tell her that her normal looks were sexy in the cute, girl next door way, but this was more vixen, tear your heart out sort of thing. With a lot of shame, he momentarily wished the smeared makeup and tear tracks had been caused by choking on his cock rather than something birthing her heart- but that wasn’t something he should be thinking about right now.

“Um…” her noise was slightly nasally from the crying, eyes avoiding his gaze as he tenderly sat himself on the coffee table in front of her. “We were supposed to. But she… that guy she was seeing asked her to come to a quick trip.” Picking at her nails, she took a shuddery breath. “So she asked if we could do stuff next weekend.”

Harry’s brows furrowed at the situation. It didn’t make much sense, but neither did his sister. Unfortunately, he had seen that Livvy was one of those people who dropped everything for a man. She could have friends or a boyfriend. Both were a struggle for her.

Honestly, he’d been shocked that Y/N stuck around long as she had. He loved his sister to bits, but he wasn’t oblivious to her faults. Being boy crazy had never faired well for her friendships. Sometimes he had seen how she swooped in and took attention away from Y/N. He knew she loved her and cared about her, but his sister had some serious issues when it came to jealousy.

Y/N was ridiculously pretty. He’d been warned away from her, sure, but he had eyes. And a weird little distant crush he’d felt for her the last few years she’d come around. They had a polite friendship, but Livvy had been irritated about it and told him to keep a distance. Still, he knew she had to be jealous. They were both different types of pretty. He didn’t think much of his sister all things considered, but he thought a lot about the type of pretty Y/N was. It sort of thumped you in the chest and grew the longer you looked at her. And when you talked to her? Forget it. She was so fucking kind and attentive, one of those people you never doubted were listening to you. She was a little quiet at first but came out of her shell the longer he was around, and he’d liked everything he’d seen from her.

“That’s shit.” He whispered. “It’s your birthday weekend. It won’t be the same next weekend.” However that was the wrong thing to say, considering her eyes filled back with tears and he felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.” Reaching out for her hand, he squeezed lightly as he tried to make it better.

Maybe Livvy would be pissed about it later but she’d have no room to complain when it was her doing. When she got back he was going to chew her out, tell her how good of a friend Y/N was and how lucky she was to have her- but for now? It was his mission to make her happy.

Y/N was going to have a good birthday weekend. He’d be sure of it.

“Listen. Let me go get dressed and we’ll go out t’eat. Okay?” Maybe he was a little presumptuous by thinking she’d want to spend time with him, but he had to imagine she was upset because she didn’t have other plans. “We’ll go out to eat and then go to the store t’get your favorite snacks and stuff. Can even bake a cake if you want. We’ll come back n’eat and watch whatever trash reality show or cheesy movie you want. You can sleep in the guest room and I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow or I’ll pick you up… I’ve got the weekend off.”

Harry was getting ahead of himself by assuming she’d want to spend the weekend together but he really fucking wanted to. He never got to spend alone time with her. How could he possibly complain about spending his weekend with a pretty girl?

“You’d… you’d really want to do that?” Her eyes met his in disbelief. “Don’t you have other plans or something? I don’t want to bother you. I swear I didn’t sit here to get pity, I just need to call an Uber or something and I can leave-“

“I don’t have any other plans. I really don’t mind. It would be fun to get out and do something. We don’t have to.” He reassured, reaching out to fix her hair. It has stuck to her damp face and he knew it had to be uncomfortable. “I know we don’t hang out a lot or anything but I consider us friends. My sister is extremely shitty for doing this but I really would like to make sure you have a good birthday. If you’re uncomfortable-“

“I’m not!” She peeped, grabbing his arm. “Not at all. I just don’t want to ruin your plans.”

“Well, my plans are now yours. Let’s get dressed and go out for our own celebration, shall we?”

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

The Way I Loved You

Luke Castellan x demeter!Reader

Summary: "But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain / And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name / So in love that you act insane"

Warnings: angst, possessiveness, jealousy, toxic relationship, fluff ending

Wordcount: 3.3K

Masterlist

A/N A. Yes, it's another Taylor Swift songfic and B. Four fics in five days, I've been cooking

And you were wild and crazy / Just so frustrating, intoxicating, complicated

Ever since Y/N met Luke Castellan, he drove her insane. When they were kids, 13 and 14 respectively, they hated each other. She hated the way he came in and immediately started bossing the campers around. Despite being so young she was the counselor for the Demeter cabin. Her big sister—her only sibling at the time—had tragically died on her way to camp that summer. But instead of mourning the always kind and radiant daughter of Demeter, they mourned the daughter of Zeus no one had ever met. And seeing the way the new boy seemed to soak up the attention made her hate him.

By the time she was 15 they still hated each other but he was all she had. They had both been at camp so long, and lost so many of their siblings and friends, both could hardly remember life without the other. But they still argued like children. So whenever they had bickered so much that Chiron or Mr. D got tired of it, they’d send them to do a chore together. They spent long hours cleaning the showers, stables, infirmary, doing practically every undesirable chore together that they finally started to talk.

Luke got to know her and understand why she hated him. And she had learned about his life and gained sympathy for him.

Soon enough those talks became makeout sessions. They stopped talking but at least they couldn’t fight if their lips were occupied. It was like they were addicted to each other.

Eventually they slid into dating. When they weren’t talking it was great. But someone would inevitably say or do something that made the other mad.

~

“Why were you flirting with him?” Luke demanded, slamming the door of the Demeter cabin.

“What are you talking about? I was training him. You know? Doing my job!”

“It wasn’t just training and you know it.”

“Gods you’re so insecure and possessive.”

“You’re the one who begged me to commit to you. Of course I’m gonna worry about my fucking girlfriend.”

“I did not beg you.”

“Yes you did. You’re the insecure one. You just needed to put a label on it and screw everything up.”

~

“You were supposed to meet me by the lake an hour ago!” Y/N stormed into the room.

“Oh crap. I’m so sorry babe,” he apologized. Trying to kiss her and make it go away.

“You do this all the time. I’m never a priority to you!”

“You’re literally my girlfriend. I don’t know what else you want.”

“I’m only your girlfriend because you didn’t want me to date anyone else!”

~

“Why are you packing?” Luke asked.

“You know my cousin who goes to Syracuse? She invited me up for the weekend.”

“So what? You can go party with frat guys?”

“No, so I can party with girls,” she tried to lighten the mood.

But Luke wasn’t consoled.“I don’t want you going to some college and getting drunk.”

“Why?”

“Because so many things can happen. You could get drugged and taken advantage of. You could get attacked. What are you gonna do if a cyclops sniffs you out but you’re too drunk to realize?”

“You’re not actually worried about that you just don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you. It’s them I don’t trust.”

“It takes two to tango.”

“Again, you could get roofied.”

“Urgh Luke you’re not listening to me!”

~

They had plenty of arguments. So much so that the Hermes and Demeter campers had a silent agreement to go to each other’s cabins whenever their counselors started arguing.

But toxic relationships can’t go on forever.

It was Y/N’s birthday. She was turning 18. Collectively Camp Half-Blood made a big deal about birthdays considering that each one literally signified a triumph over death. But Luke couldn’t even be bothered to spend the day with her. When she woke up in his bed, he was already up and putting on his training gear. “‘Morning,” she greeted softly. She tried not to seem too excited about her birthday but all she wanted in that moment was for him to say “happy birthday.”

“Hey,” he smiled. “I'm gonna go train with some of the other campers. The new kids have been excited to watch me fight so…” he said smugly, already halfway out the door. “Just uh make the bed when you leave? Thanks.”

She was left disappointed. Like she always was except for when they were together but not talking.

But almost as soon as she stepped outside she was greeted with several wishes for a good birthday. She nearly cried when she got back to her cabin and found her bunk decorated, small gifts left on her bed from her friends and siblings.

By lunch practically the whole camp had wished her a happy birthday and she was feeling a bit better. She was reading a book she got as a gift, sitting alone at the Demeter table while she ate. Laughter invaded the dining pavilion and she watched as Luke entered along with the campers he had been training. He spotted her, coming over to her table but she didn’t even look up at him.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked. No response. “Why are you mad?” Still no response. After a few beats of silence he tried to change the subject. “So what are you reading?” She just held the book up so he could read the title. “Ah. Where’d you get that?”

By now the other campers had grabbed their food and were walking past the Demeter table. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” they each wished as they passed by. She smiled up at each of them as they passed. She only spared a glance at Luke to witness the expression on his face.

“Are-are you mad because you think I forgot your birthday? Of course I didn’t forget your birthday, babe. I’m just uh… saving my surprise for after dinner.”

“Sure,” was all she said, flipping the page.

“No, no,” Luke insisted, coming around to the other side of the table. He straddled the bench, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her close. As he did so he pressed a kiss against her cheek because she was still focused on her book. “You’re gonna love your gift. I swear.”

Luke spent the rest of the afternoon running around trying to put together a surprise. He got Mr. D to summon a small cake. Fortunately Mr. D was the one person in camp that didn’t know or care that it was Y/N’s birthday so he didn’t ask questions. As for the gift, Luke was lost. Anything in the camp store she’d immediately be able to tell wasn’t something he had thought about and anything he already owned she’d recognize as his.

So he went out to the meadow, picking flowers. She was the daughter of Demeter, of course she liked flowers.

So by the time dinner finished, Luke was pretty proud of what he had pieced together despite his limited resources. After everyone had left the dining pavilion, he brought Y/N to the docks where he proudly displayed his hard work. Except when he handed her the flowers, she looked disappointed. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I know you forgot my birthday. That’s fine. Whatever,” she sniffed passive aggressively. “But you gave me probably the most cop out gift you could think of.”

“What do you mean? You love flowers.”

By now the tears were freely flowing from her eyes. “You know I hate cut flowers because they just die. You could have dug a few up, preserved their roots and repotted them.”

“Okay fine, I’ll plant them.”

But she shook her head. “No, it’s too late.”

“Then I’ll get new flowers.”

“No, not about flowers. It’s too late for us.”

His heart sunk. “What?”

“Luke, I think we should break up.”

“Over a damn gift? Y/N, I’m sorry. I know I dropped the ball but the wrong gift isn’t something you break up over.”

“It’s not about the gift!” she cried. “Luke, we don’t know each other. We’re strangers who are together because it’s convenient. The gift just proves you only know the basics. We’ve been together for two years. Known each other for five. You should know I don’t like cut flowers.”

“So we need to reconnect? We can work through this. Please Y/N, don’t do anything rash.”

She just shook her head again. “You’re not getting it. It’s not even just that we don’t know each other. We can’t talk for more than five minutes before fighting. We’re toxic, Luke.”

“But we’re…”

“Just because we’re all each other has doesn’t mean we’re good together.”

“Y/N, don’t do this. Please.” By now even Luke had a few tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Luke. But this is better for both of us.” With that, she walked away from him for the last time.

~~

He can't see the smile I'm faking / And my heart's not breaking / 'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all

Getting over Luke was the hardest thing she ever had to do. She spent several days crying to her younger sister, Katie. She tried to help her sister but the younger girl couldn’t relate, making Y/N just feel more alone. But then a new Athena camper joined and things got better.

Chiron had basically assigned Y/N to show Ben the ropes around camp. He felt bad for the poor girl. No one liked watching her or Luke sulk around camp.

“Ben, I’d like you to meet Y/N. She’s one of our most senior campers and counselor of the Demeter cabin.”

She smiled at the new boy. “Hi. Do you know what cabin you’ll be in yet?”

“Yeah, uh Athena. She claimed me when the satyrs found me,” he answered, already finding himself interested. Chiron tried to hide his smirk realizing the boy’s quickly growing feelings.

“Well you’re one of the lucky ones.”

“I’ve heard.”

“Y/N,” Chiron interrupted, “why don’t you show Ben around? Let him know how we do things around here.”

“Uh, sure. C’mon I’ll give you a tour.” As they went around camp, Ben asked her all sorts of things about herself. Favorite color, favorite flower, who her friends were, what they were like, what she liked to eat and more. All the things Luke should have known.

As they kept going through camp, Ben knew he was already falling for her. And not just because Chiron had talked her up so much as they had approached the daughter of Demeter. He thought she was pretty and smart. And she was so kind to him. Plus, everyone around camp seemed to love her.

Ben’s very apparent interest was much to the chagrin of Luke. He had spent the first couple days of his breakup pretending like everything was alright. An act that proved very unpopular with the rest of camp. But the lonely nights got to him and his siblings could hear quiet sobs and sniffles in the night. But almost as soon as he started showing remorse, this new guy showed up and all of a sudden there was a buzz around camp about the new guy who would replace him.

The excited gossip about his ex and the new boy had literally started from day one. He saw them going through the camp tour a few times that day. After all, Camp Half-Blood is big. And Luke just happens to have to go to the same areas his ex does at the same time. But every time he spotted them he couldn’t help but glare at the new Athena cabin member. Every time he sent her a smile or made her laugh, Luke curled his fist impossibly tighter. His fists became almost perpetually white as the blossoming romance grew over time.

As for Y/N, she was finally healing. Not happy, but healing and Ben was helping with that as time went on and they got closer. He was perfect. Sweet, smart, a gentleman. But he wasn’t Luke.

They spent many nights getting to know each other. He knew her birthday, all her favorites, and made an effort with all her friends. Hell he even made an effort with Luke—an effort the Hermes boy did not appreciate—because he knew Luke was still important to Y/N. When he asked her out he did so with a pot of her favorite flowers which he had Argus help him get.

He knocked on the door of the Demeter cabin which was opened by Katie. “Hey Katie,” Ben greeted Y/N’s favorite younger sister. “Is Y/N home?”

“Yeah, she is.” The young girl called for her and soon enough the object of Ben’s affection was at the door.

“Hey Ben. What’s up?” she asked.

“I just wanted to give you this,” he smiled, handing her the beautifully potted flower. “I know I’m no demigod child of the plant goddess but…”

“No it’s great,” she smiled at him. But her heart was sinking. It wasn’t because of the gift, the gift was perfect actually. But if Luke had been the one to give it to her, her heart would be soaring. “Thank you.”

“And I just wanted to ask you if you uh- wanted to have dinner with me tonight?” he nervously asked.

“Oh well I’d love to,” she smiled. “But uh we can’t table hop at dinner. It’s against the rules,” she laughed nervously, hoping that would be enough to dissuade him.

“That’s not a problem. I got permission from Chiron to let us have dinner together. We just have to be out of the dining pavilion before everyone else gets there at 7.”

Dread kept filling her. She was in too deep now. And he had asked Chiron, she couldn’t just shoot him down. “Well then I’ll see you at 6 then?”

The biggest smile broke over his face. “See you then.”

The entire time at dinner, Y/N wanted to cry. This is not what she wanted. Ben was not what she wanted. But she kept forcing a happy face, hoping that if she could convince Ben she liked him too, she could convince herself.

When he brought her out to the meadow and kissed her, she wanted to dig herself into the ground and die. It was a sweet kiss but it just felt wrong… like there was no chemistry or passion between them.

She was so frustrated with herself. As she looked into Ben’s eyes she wondered why she couldn’t just love him back. Here was this incredibly caring guy who was more than willing to give her everything she was asking for but she just didn’t feel anything.

~~

But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain

For Luke, seeing Y/N with Ben made a weird dread fill his chest. To him it wasn’t fair that she just got to move on when she was the one that broke up with him. She should be begging for him back right now. And he hated to admit it but he’d take her back in a heartbeat right now.

So when he found her crying on the beach late one night, he didn’t know what to think. But she was still all he had so he approached. “Hey,” he tried to catch her attention gently.

She looked up at him, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes. “Oh, hey Luke,” she tried to play off her tears. “What are you doing here?”

“Came here to think and then I saw you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” She gave a strained smile that did nothing to hide the puffiness of her eyes or blotchy skin.

It pained Luke to see her like this. Even more so when he knew he was the cause of her tears at one point. “Are you sure?” he asked, sitting next to her but maintaining her space. “We can talk. I promise it’ll just be a friendly conversation.”

She let out the weakest laugh he had ever heard. “I’m fine. You wouldn’t wanna hear about it anyway,” she dismissed even though Luke was the only person she wanted to talk to. He was the only person who could maybe possibly understand. Her siblings were too young and the only other camper their age was Ben.

“Try me,” Luke challenged, scooting the slightest bit closer.

She looked at him for a while before reluctantly speaking. “It’s Ben. I just… he’s such a great guy. He’s nice, and sweet, and such a gentleman but he’s just not…”

“Just not what?” Luke asked a little eagerly. From a distance she had looked blissfully happy and everyone spoke about how well Ben treated her. But hearing that his ex-girlfriend had a problem with the guy she was dating? Luke was a little too eager to hear about that.

“He’s not you!” She finally admitted. She didn’t miss the way Luke seemed to brighten. “He does nice things for me and he’s so sweet and into me but I’m just feeling nothing at all. It’s like there’s no passion between us.”

“Well you were right. We were toxic but we also had a lot of passion,” Luke tried to lighten the mood. “Look, I don’t mean to sweep in on your most vulnerable moment but I’ve been thinking since the breakup and this is the first time you’ve even looked at me so. I know I treated you like shit and was so possessive. I’m ready to actually commit to you and be your boyfriend instead of just slipping into it because we were already making out when we were younger. I want to give you everything the old me couldn’t or wouldn’t because watching you slip through my fingers was the most painful thing I've ever done. Besides, with more effort I think we could make this work because you don’t fight like we did unless you’re in love. People who don’t love each other just let it fade. They don’t fight.”

She looked like she was in severe pain. “Gods, why couldn’t you have said this three months ago?” Her lips were immediately on his. Luke was a little taken aback but kissed her back, glad to have her in his arms once again.

A few moments later they were promising each other eternity with all the passion in the world. “Forever?” he asked through labored breaths, his fingers intertwined with her hair.

“Forever,” she agreed.

The next day Luke was waiting anxiously in the Hermes cabin. Y/N was ending things with Ben but he was still nervous. What if she decided she wanted to stick with the safer option? He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it if she went back to him after last night.

His thoughts were only quieted when the door opened and he found her standing there. He stood up anxiously but hesitated, still slightly wary that she’d tell him she changed her mind. But she walked towards him, immediately falling into his arms. “Forever?” he asked.

“Forever,” she agreed.

Relieved, Luke pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Forever,” he confirmed for himself.

Masterlist

[nanamis-bigtie]

party circle

↬ choso, geto, gojo & ino x afab!reader | lucid love ↬ lucid love masterlist // jjk masterlist // ao3 version

cw: smut, reader has a vagina (more detailed description of genitalia), college au, drunk sex, cumdumpster (reader on receiving end), group sex, piv sex, blow job, rough sex, reader is called "doll" and "thing", sprinkle of degradation and dumbification summary: you've been dared to offer yourself as a cumdumpster during a party - and you're not a wimp. you haven't expected what kind of team is going to pay you a visit word count: 2.6k a/n: yes, i am aware this text is squeezed, i have run myself against my own word limit and i still crossed it ahem tag list: @thesacredfanfics

After an hour in almost complete darkness, doing nothing but staring at the ceiling, you start to wonder if this all wasn't just a mean, drunk prank. Or another stupid test of courage, company's favorite. The party downstairs is flickering out, the voices and steps are fading, and none are heading towards you, lying half-naked in the host's guest bedroom and slowly going cold. Your heart is still fluttering like crazy and you're perking your ears for any sound nearby, but the level of your excitement is inexorably heading towards disappointment. All the commotion for nothing.

If not for your pride—and gut feeling telling you someone is secretly watching the door in case you chicken out—you would have already pulled your bottoms back up and returned to the living room. A bet is a bet, it still counts as won if someone else wimps out.

But eventually someone does come. More than one person even, you soon realize when the voices become more distinct, and you can pick some words. A few men are climbing the stairs, bantering on their way and laughing, one of them rather reluctant, you assume by the constant harsh chatter and steps heading downstairs from time to time. You can't follow the conversation but after a few tugs back and forth, you learn there are four of them, and at least one of the voices is... too familiar. Your heart, racing a moment ago, sinks; if it's someone from your class or the club, you're done for. You thought you're a solo player here, you got into the party with the invitation of a friend from outside of your college circle, and all the faces you passed by tonight were all new to you. But with so many guests gathered in a spacious house, the probability of running into someone you knew wasn't that close to zero.

When the men finally make it to the floor and stop in front of the door, you almost stop breathing. Are they looking for a free bathroom—or are they here for you? The uncertainty tears you apart the stronger, the more conflicted your thoughts grow. You don't want to find out the hard way if someone you know is in this group. But...you don't really want them to be gone, either. If you already mustered courage and offered yourself as a free-to-use party dumpster, drunk brain or not, not making that one crucial step would haunt you like a ghost. Were you surrounded by cowards? Or assholes who couldn't appreciate your body? No, with the number of advances made on you tonight, you can't really deem yourself unappreciated.

The shade of unanswered questions would remain, though. But luckily for you, the problem quickly solves itself.

"C'mon, man, don't be such a wimp." This voice is not the familiar one but comes from so close that you could swear the man is standing right by the bed. "It's likely just a stupid joke anyway."

The answer is too dull for you to understand and soon it drowns in laughter. The door creaks open, just enough to let a narrow wisp of light sneak into the room. You narrow eyes, blinded after such a long time in darkness, but you can pick silhouettes of four men peeking inside over each other. All stare right at the exposed and illumined part of your body: your left leg and hip, your cunt, and a bit of your torso and face. Instinct yells at you to cover yourself, you spread your legs wider instead, with no word spoken and hoping your guests have enough sober brain cells to connect the dots.

"It's...not a joke." The man from the previous line stands right in the front and his voice falters a little. The other right behind his back, shamelessly resting chin on his shoulder, whistles with appreciation.

"Hey, Kamo, you're in luck today," he turns around and flicks the light on. "I think that's Y/N."

Kamo? Choso Kamo? Why HIM of all familiar people who possibly could wander into this party?

You're hanging on a string of hope that maybe, just maybe, there are more guys going by this family name, and the one here is not Choso, your club crush, but once your eyes get used to light and all four of them step inside, you understand how screwed you are even before they pull their dicks out.

It is Choso, the reluctant one, leaning against the door with arms crossed and looking everywhere but at your face, his own scarlet red to the tips of his ears. But what's even worse, you recognize the other three as well. 

Suguru Geto, probably the most wanted man at your college, skimming your figure curiously from his spot at the front. 

Leaning against him, Satoru Gojo, the star of the football team and his best friend, currently shamelessly staring right at your cunt. 

More reserved than those two but as interested Takuma Ino, your friend's ex fuck buddy and a notorious party animal.

"It's been a while, huh?" He's the one who tries to initiate conversation, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to another. "This is not some crazy prank, right?"

"A bet, I heard." You understand now why Satoru has always been described as equally weird and handsome; the way his gaze is drilling into you sends shivers down your spine. And you can't decide if you hate it...or quite contrary.

With Choso staying behind, the men surround the bed, and you can't shake off the impression that they're cornering you like prey. Neither of them pounces on you though, the awkward tension almost unbearable—but at the same time clearly exciting for everyone involved. With initial shock fading away, replaced by the same excitement that prompted you to boldly announce in which room you're waiting for anyone as brave as you, you're slowly getting back into the groove. Racing heart pumps hot blood into the right veins, simmering lust perks its head up, your muscles relax and allow you to spread your legs as far as you can. Invitingly, you hope, and from the surrounding faces you can read you're understood well.

"Alright, doll, we gotta turn you around, or our virgin won't budge from his place." Satoru shamelessly pulls you to the edge of bed, then flips you face down. Another pair of hands helps you lift your hips until you find a comfortable and stable position.

"Shit, look at that..." Wooden floor creaks as one of them kneels down, his breath so hot against your exposed slit. He traces it with a thumb, gently, but enough to make your breathing heavier. "All wet and ready."

Someone else's big and warm hands knead your ass and spread your cheeks open. Curious thumb grazes your clit, long fingers slide inside you, two at once, and reach so deep your eyes roll into the back of your head. Long wait has worked up your appetite, your heat has built itself up steady and exploded as soon as your cunt has been touched. They soon grow bolder too, encouraged by your dripping slick and noises you make. The banter and dirty praises melt into white noise behind your back, mixed with the clicks of unbuckled belts and pants shoved down to the ankles. 

Someone's impatient cock slots itself against your rim, steals a shallow, wet thrust, followed by laughter from the other two. The eager one is pulled away, hungry hands leave your cunt empty and pulsing, not without a disappointed whine of yours. You wiggle your hips, the craving of being filled stronger than the prior awkwardness and your pride.

"Virgins come first." It's Takuma's voice that breaks through the white noise. 

A few steps creak back, there's a short tussle and the fourth man is forced to come closer. In the last moment of clear-headedness, your heart skips a beat; you fight against the instinct to look back at Choso. You've been turned around for a reason, despite temptation you want to respect it. You can't control the excited spasm of your cunt, though, much to men's loud enthusiasm.

"C'mon, don't make Y/N wait."

There's hesitation in Choso's touch. He reaches for you with both hands, just tracing your ass and hips at first, before he gives your curve the first, testing squeeze. You hear him groan, sound barely audible yet standing out with its characteristic timbre. You would recognize this knee-melting voice everywhere—and in this situation you react to it hundreds times stronger. You shove your hips back, bumping against his crotch, feeling the outline of his erection through his pants.

He groans again, nails sinking into your skin almost painfully.

Someone helps him with his pants when he's holding on to you for his dear life. He lets go of you with one hand, just enough to line himself up and guide his awkward thrusts towards your entrance. Clumsiness and need behind his moves drive you crazy; he's really losing his v-card with you, just like that, watched by his friends, drunk, with a party toy you've become. And as much as you want to make it easier for him, as soon as his throbbing length slots itself in you, finally easing the itching craving, you squeeze him tight and push your hips against him. 

You want everything he can offer, the sooner, the better.

"Fuck..." Choso mutters through clenched teeth, his pulse running crazy as you clench again, stronger. He won't last long, you can tell as much despite the fever overpowering every single one of your senses. Fuck, indeed. The thought of milking him dry so early adds fuel to burning fire; you take over the situation and grind against him, forcing him to follow suit with his awkward, desperate thrusts, until he suddenly stills and fills you up, with the most pathetic, beautiful moan you've heard from a man.

He starts leaning over your back, his hot breath nearly brushing against your skin, but he's pulled away as fast as he's been dragged to mount you. A different hand kneads your ass; it's Takuma, you guess from the breathy whimper he lets out when he's sliding the head of his cock between your wet folds. He doesn't lose his time either, soon filling your hungry cunt again and rutting inside, short but deep and strong thrusts.

"Squeezin' tight," he growls, shifting the weight and balance of your bodies forward. He places one hand on your back and pushes you down, forcing you to arch your hips and take him even deeper.

You risk a glance over your shoulder. Vision hazy and set under a weird angle, you can't see much but Takuma's face, flushed and beaming with pleasure, and Satoru peeking curiously at your entrance, working hard to swallow every single one of the thrust. He's stroking himself, the tip of his tongue peeking through his lips, so engrossed by the show he's almost bearing down on Takuma's back. Neither of them seem to notice, only one goal on their minds.

You're almost brought to your high this time but Takuma is there first, his last thrust almost tripping you over with the unexpected power. You end up pushed into the mattress, the sights mercilessly yanked away from you, and the next man in line doesn't give you a chance to collect himself.

Satoru is much bigger than the other two. His size takes you by surprise; you mewl loud at the sudden stretch, then almost scream when he slots himself so deep that he's poking at your cervix. He doesn't show you mercy at all, both hands holding your hips in place as he's fucking the brain out of you like a jackhammer. It's brutal, it's almost painful, it's so fucking good you're moaning and crying at the same time. The stretch and friction are frying your nerves; you're yanked into orgasm with his thrusts alone, and he doesn't stop even for a second, instead forcing you to stay still, one foot resting at the edge of the bed. Against his strength, you're nothing but a puppet, a sex toy he's moving with no regards for your state.

But even he has limits and soon you're again filled to the brim. You're not able to hold it inside any longer, the mix of cum and your juices drips out of your used hole as your legs tremble, without the support soon to collapse. The last man comes to your aid, his hold is surprisingly tender but as strong as Satoru's. He takes his time, the privilege of the last in the queue, making sure you're stable and collected before he steals the first thrust, shallow, just enough to slide his tip against the mess.

You're trembling from just this little, so overstimulated you're seeing white even without orgasm.

"You poor thing," Suguru coos and traces free hand against your sweaty back. "He's ruined you so much, that monster."

Satoru scoffs, the mattress dips by your side as he throws himself right next to you. He holds your chin and forces you to look at him. The sadistic, almost maniac, look in his terrifying eyes has your cunt fluttering.

"Be careful, poor thing," he mimics Suguru and slides a thumb between your lips. "He's the real monster here."

In contrast, Suguru moves so gently it's...frustrating. He gathers the cum leaking out of you with the head of his cock before he slides it into you slow and deep, then stills until frustration takes over you and makes you find some power to press hips against him.

He clicks his tongue, laughter shadowing over his words, "Don't be like that. You need to savor your strength."

Suguru moves so slow, terrifying with his precision for the first time he's having you. He touches you more than just having you in place, he traces your sides, back, nape, pinches your nipples and meticulously wanders down again, between your shaking thighs. You almost choke on sharp inhale when he rubs your clit, your mewls held back by Satoru's thumb fucking your mouth, then by his big tongue sliding deep inside. Looking for breath, you try to shake him off—Suguru's hold, fingers knotted tight in your hair, forces you to stay still, until you're shaking and melting, and Satoru has to withdraw.

"Don't be too rough," Takuma is on your other side, sounding concerned but still stroking himself, as far as you're aware by the sounds.

"We're just playing." Suguru's voice is sweet like honey, soft and comforting—and you believe him, let him coax you into comfort before he shows his true colors again and yanks you up and straight by your hair. 

Eyes filled with tears, you try to support yourself on trembling arms and ease the tension in your scalp and neck. Merciless hand guides you to other side, right into Choso's cock poking at your lips. You catch a glimpse of his face, bright pink with a blush but his eyes are dark with lust, gaze fixed at your tongue instinctually lolled out of your mouth. Takuma nudges him closer, almost forces him to slip himself into you, the tip of his dick poking at the back of your throat and making you gag.

Satoru's hand replaces Suguru's; he uses your head to get Choso off as the other man speeds up his thrusts, using your cunt without any mercy now. He pulls almost completely out right before he cums, his seed leaking out of your used hole. Next in line Takuma doesn't bother to shove it back, his thrusts push more of it out, the whole mess dripping on the sheets.

I need to pay for cleaning, the last thought crosses your mind before it gives in to pleasure—no, to ecstasy, no more sanity, just waves of your high washing over you over and over again as their cocks fill your cunt and mouth in turns and you're nothing but a trembling mess.

[jyoongim]

Hii!💝 may i request some angst with alastor and fem reader?? like they had one night stand and she got pregnant but hides it from everyone (he isn't very happy about it when he finds out ) and also can the baby be a boy??(if ur making it into series), can't help but i would love to see a mini version of him

And girl i love your writing😭 urr soo good, i check every day tumbrl for your new posts. Take your time, and if you don't wanna write it its alright!

A Bad Romance

Alastor x Reader

Warnings: angst, one-sided pining, unwanted pregnancy, secrets, Alastor being an asshole

Another mini series????? Oh my hehehe

————————————————————————

Seven hells…you thought looking at the pregnancy test.

You were staring at a positive pregnancy test.

You were pregnant.

You were pregnant.

Oh fuck.

You had been down in the dumps lately and Alastor had been so kind to lend you his ear.

Alastor had always listened to your problems and gave slightly sound advice.

 You and the Overlord were friends in a way.

Though you might have been attracted to the deer, but I mean you weren’t blind.

Indulging in a moment of vulnerability, you had leaned forward and kissed the demon. You shocked the both of you, but before you could apologize, he curled his claws in your hair and slammed his lips back against yours.

It was a night of passion.

A moment of tenderness.

But it shouldn’t have happened.

It was a mistake.

But oh how you wished it wasn’t.

Fucking Alastor was one thing, but to be pregnant? 

He wouldn’t stand for that.

Your pregnancy meant he exposed weakness and the feared overlord couldnt have that.

You were shaking.

What were you to do?

——————————————————————————————————-

You have caught my interest dearest hehehe. Angst???? Like how crazy? Hehe I’m happy you enjoy my writings! I’m slowly getting back into the groove of things and hope I can deliver delicious posts for your enjoyment.

————————————————————————

[deesseshesca]

PAC : How to express your sexual self ? (18+)

I GOT A NEW KINKY DECK BABES !

Good morning pretty soul ! I am so excited ... IS OFFICIALLY KINKTOBER ! DAY : 6-8

A.N.G.E.L soul tribe OR B.A.B.Y. soul tribe FOR EXCLUSVE CONTENT.

Your future lover| SEX Douala =SALE READING

PILE 1 

2 cups (reverse), 3 swords (reverse), 3 pentacles, 4 pentacles 

Y’all are dealing with a partner that sabotages you but they are not the only one. You guys are out here playing super hero saving everyone except for focusing on nurturing your garden. You don’t even have enough in your cup but nah u out here pouring in everybody cups. I do understand that you have children so you need to pour into their cup unconditionally. Since you are outhere saving others but yourself you are drained mentally which has a major impact on your mother/father hood. Your kids deserve the best version of yourself so cut with no second thought anything draining you. 

Stop having sex with them ! Every time your partner wants to get in your good graces they create a sexual tension and all the sudden you forgive all they are wrong doing. You are so damm predictable that they don’t even fucking try changing. Ever since I started pulling card for people, I realize how people are ready to stay in broken relationships because it is not toxic enough to leave. Like the fact that u are always unhappy should be the limit. Nah y’all want to get  beaten on, cheated on or financially abused before calling it a quit. Y’all need to feel completely defeated before standing up for yourself. Such a mindset is so dangerous, especially when u have children. Because you should not accept any kind of abuse before leaving and it shows how low your self worth really is. For y’all specifically, you don’t want to leave your partner,ok , then open your mouth. Express that you have had enough and REQUIRE fucking change. Stop letting yourself down chasing for perfection only you can create. Going to therapy is necessary to work together towards y’all happy ending. Is not going to fall from the sky. Babe you are kissing their neck, sucking on their nipples, caressing their body and giving them the best head while they finish a second time inside u. Great but where is your pleasure? They don’t even try to please you and since you don’t complain they think they are doing an amazing job. Break their bubble, you are worth too much to be suffering in silence. Express yourself + stand on business + put your sexual need first = a PROPER expression of your sexual self allowing you to receive what you need and deserve. 

💌 : Only for this pile if you have issue regarding what exactly is it to expect from your partner or how to be love, you can contact me on Ko-fi, I will give you the extra reading by audio for free. If you wanna know how to build up your sexual confident, you can listen to this which will also unlock extra content.

PILE 2 

10 cups (reverse), queen swords (reverse), 6 pentacles, Strength 

Don’t stay content, I always advise my environment to go after fulfillment. Meaning don’t let just anybody in our sexual energy. Y’all don’t need to be this dark feminine energy to improve your sexual life. You can be approachable and untouchable. Y’all are my charming babe and you have a beautiful warmth about you but you let anybody enjoy it. Sexually you settle for the worst bare minimum because you care a lot about your reputation. Which leads you to embody a more desperate energy because you want to feel accepted so bad. Wanting to feel seen by any kind of community we cherish is normal but ready to do anything to feel accepted is not ok. Losing yourself to achieve a goal that doesn't serve you personally but to keep up a public image is actually crazy. Take a grip ! Is your life. You decide who want to fuck, when and how !You know what you desire as your dream life, so you should only judge yourself upon your own standard. Since it is YOUR life. You are too worried about what people are saying behind your back. Y’all may be in uni and part of Greek life.  In the vision, you're wearing clean white airforces, with white socks, on your knees just in a beautiful white lace push up bra giving head. I’m hearing: ‘’ Mhmmm thx babe … it’s amazing’’ after you slow down. You quickly realize you got fuck over because the person you dealt with did not do any move to have to try to please you orally or even with penetration. Leaving you in a random room with no aftercare. You did not even want to deal with them but you were scared of the rumor that may start if you don’t let them ‘’hit’’. Also you want to build stamina, but to build stamina you must practice. First stand on business regarding the happiness of your sex life. Realize that only you have the power to change that. Realize how powerful you really are, you get to decide if you want to get laid, if you want to give head, if you even want to engage sexually. Stop giving your body away. Second, it is ok to have sexual goals and just like regular goals you must build a plan to reach it. Build a standard in what you search for and a partner and allow yourself to have a FWB or a relationship where the person you are dealing with is in energy to teach you how to have sex. Because you may be the type to cum to quickly and you don’t like that. Standard + Owning your sexual self + finding the right partner = Better expression of your sexual self. 

💌 : You really need to step the fuck out these desperation energy before you created a circle of bad habit which can hinder your quality of life since it will bring self sabotage. Also do not confess your feeling to that looser just because he is the only that has enough balls to come up to you does not mean that he deserve you. You know damm well you deserve better. If you wanna know how to build up your sexual confident, you can listen to this which will also unlock extra content.

PILE 3 

7 pentacles (reverse), queen swords (reverse), 7 cups, 10 cups

Y’all feel the sexiest when you are making money. Is not about beauty maintenance, it is just when your finances are unbalanced you feel unhappy. 

You are confused about the sexual energy poured into yourself. Y'all may have been the ‘’ugly duckling ‘’ growing up and now you have those sexual suitors popping left and right. You had a boob job, nose job, a bbl… anyway you had your worst physical insecurity fix. There’s some shadow work that has to be done around self esteem. Getting surgery in my opinion is a fixing matter regarding a deep issue. Don’t get me worn out babe, I am all in for the vanity (You need to see the length i go to protect my beauty) but when you still feel unfulfilling before fixing everything understand where the problem is really coming from. Otherwise you are going to spend a whole lifetime fixing yourself. I see a graph of exponent function and that’s the representation of your body count. Almost all of them disappoint you sexually. I’m hearing : ‘’ I don’t understand all the obsession around sex and have a lot of it…’’ The reality is that you guys are simulated by the mind. Also don’t feel ashamed of yourself. Sometimes while healing we created a wound chasing after a feeling. You hurt yourself and it is ok you can heal it too. There’s 2 types of people in the world: the body or the mind and it opens a spectrum of each. You guys need to feel safe, loved and seen to experience the big ‘’o’’. You need somebody that lives to learn about you and make it their priority to please you. You need gentle sex, whisper of sweet nothing and the loving embrace to express your equal freely. Shadow work + real love + self forgiveness = Ideal sexual expression.

💌 : Also do not fall for the people that are looking for a savior in love. You guys are amazing lover and would make amazing partner a lot a offer is going to come your way and many of them are going to be codependent and toxic people hiding under innocent mask. Heads up. If you wanna know how to build up your sexual confident, you can listen to this which will also unlock extra content.

PILE 4

10 wands (reverse), 4 cup (reverse), Star (reverse) and queen pentacles (reverse) 

Pile 4, you need to make the time to prioritize yourself. I see somebody sleeping late, waking up late, rushing to get ready, wearing the same outfit, having the worst work ethic (your manager may have flagged you about it), and going back home to an extremely messy home. When all  you really want is  to have enough time in the morning to go to the gym, take good care of your body, do your makeup, wear a beautiful and clean outfit, go after the promotion you deserve  and come back home to a clean house. Y’all cars may also be extremely messy. In your case to feel the sexiest is not just about the looks but how much you pour into yourself. Also need to do some shadow work regarding your body. Y’all may have suffered with ED and you have recently ( 6 months +) recovered fully but you refuse to touch yourself sexually because you don’t love your body. Is not pretty enough. First y’all better go ahead and purchase that sex toy. If you wanted a confirmation … here u have it. Pleasure yourself, enjoy  yourself, look at yourself naked in the mirror. Obviously take baby steps in the journey not to trigger anything but it needs to be done. Since you keep hoping that a special someone is going to come into your life and heal all your sexual habits. Nah babe you need to know yourself to achieve the pleasure you crave and attract the right one, first. Second, nobody likes to be in bed with someone overly insecure because it creates a blockage. Not knowing and learning is good. Having healthy insecurity is part of everyday life . But being as insecure as you are but you in an energy where you will be the worst lover to be with. I’m hearing : ‘’ If I had this…. If I had that…. I would not be like this….’’. Your victim mentality is about to cost you the dream life you deserve. Self love + prioritizing ‘’YOU’’+ saving yourself = the best way to express your sexual self which will help you become the sexiest version of yourself and attract your ideal partner.

💌 : You deserve a partner that is not going to be a shame to pull up with you. Stop falling for the one offering the bare minimum babe you do not have to work for love especially the one with ill intent. So make sure you park them to the left and you focus on loving yourself and never lowering your standard. If you wanna know how to build up your sexual confident, you can listen to this which will also unlock extra content.

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 17.4k ❧ warnings: cursing ❧ genre: fluff, some mild angst, model jeno, journalist reader, reader is lowkey a bit of a jerk for some of it but for understandable reasons ❧ extra info: this is a reworked version of an old fic of mine that was about a former member. since i still really love the fic, i’ve made some (heavy) edits to re-release it about jeno instead. you can consider this the spiritual successor/an alternate universe to my sleepless cinderella series

You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?

You felt absolutely pathetic. You were a journalist at a rather popular magazine, and your editor had finally entrusted you with a centerfold spot. So far, your word document for your article had less than a handful of words: your name. Writer’s block, and with only two months until copies were supposed to hit the shelves.

And so here you were, sitting on the small couch in your boss’ office, trying not to sound like you were whining to her. But you needed some sort of guidance. Ms. Zhang was sat on the other end of the couch from you, legs crossed, and round frames perched on the end of her nose as she thoughtfully listened to your rant.

Her voice was casual as she simply replied with, “Anything new in your life, Y/N?”

Which was a complete non-sequitur from your desperate plea for a subject. She really just wanted to make small talk while you were having an existential crisis?

Stunned, you blinked for a moment before answering, “Uh, not much. My roommate made me go out to this party a while ago.”

“That’s nice. Did you have fun?”

You were still completely unsure of why she wasn’t addressing your issue, but went along with it, nonetheless, “I guess.”

“Meet anyone?”

“Kind of. Seven someones, technically.”

“Oh?”

Realizing how that sounded, you grimaced to yourself before giving your boss an explanation of the actual situation. Your roommate NingNing had dragged you to the grand opening of a new nightclub, which she got an invite to thanks to her huge social media following. She was possibly the only actually down-to-Earth influencer you’d ever met—and you’d met plenty, thanks to her. The two of you had been friends since you were kids, before you entered into completely different lives as adults. You had a 9 to 5 while she was being paid insane amounts of money by luxury brands just to post a single photo of herself with their product.

The nightclub of course had a VIP section at the back, which NingNing was easily given access to, as well as you, her plus-one. It was there that you were introduced to Mark Lee, an up and coming young actor with a practically cult following online; Huang Renjun, an extremely popular video game streamer and YouTuber; Lee Jeno, an actual supermodel whose visage was across some of the biggest billboards in the city; Haechan, a pop star that you didn’t dare address by anything other than his stage name; Na Jaemin, another streamer and YouTuber who had recently been picked up for a modeling contract; Zhong Chenle, heir to the Zhong family fortune, whose family was involved in anything and everything to do with the entertainment industry and owned the nightclub; and Park Jisung, an influencer more in the same vein as NingNing, with millions of Instagram followers. Apparently, you had made a good enough impression that Chenle gave you your own pass to the VIP lounge—NingNing of course had her own, too.

At the end of your story, Ms. Zhang had a worryingly knowing smile across her lips, “You met seven celebrities in one night?”

“Do influencers and streamers really count as celebrities?”

“You met seven very popular men—three or four of whom are certifiable celebrities—in one night, have access to a private lounge they all frequent, and you still don’t have a subject for your article?”

Your jaw may have dropped slightly as you realized this. Immediately, your face turned hot as you refused the idea, “I don’t want to exploit them and make them uncomfortable somewhere that’s supposed to be free from that kind of stuff.”

She frowned as she shook her head, “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. I thought you understood that journalism isn’t inherently exploitative.”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not—”

“Are you going to publish horrible rumors and tabloid things with private information they don’t want to be out there? Is that what we do here?”

“No, but they’re all going to think that’s what I’ll do.”

“Show them those assumptions are wrong. It’s all in the way you carry yourself. If you are honest and humble and make them feel comfortable, they should have no reason to doubt what kind of journalist you are.”

At this point, you felt like melting into the pinstriped couch cushions in shame. You shouldn’t have doubted your boss’ vision for her magazine or demeaned your own career. And now you’d made Ms. Zhang disappointed in you. You would’ve preferred her to have yelled at you.

All that was left was to make her proud.

Three days later and you still hadn’t returned to the lounge.

Honestly, you were just being a chicken. And a procrastinator. A procrastinating chicken.

Slumped into your armchair in your living room, you blankly zoned off into the distance as you listened to your playlist through an earbud. NingNing was perched on your kitchen table, feet swinging off the side as she edited some photos on her phone.

As she tapped away, you found your gaze fixating on the visage on the cover of a magazine that had been resting on your coffee table. Squinting your eyes curiously and tilting your head to the side, you asked, “He kind of looks like a dog, right?”

“Who?” Your roommate raised a concerned eyebrow as she peered over her phone screen at you.

“Lee Jeno.” You held up the magazine. “He kind of looks like a dog. Right?”

Your friend squinted at the cover then gave you that same look, “No, he doesn’t. Y/N, I think the sleep deprivation has finally gotten to you. You’re delirious.”

“No, I swear, he looks like a dog,” you insisted, pulling your earbud out to be able to better argue your point. “A very specific kind of dog, God, it’s on the tip of my tongue.”

“He doesn’t.”

You crossed your arms. “I bet the others would agree with me.”

“You want to go ask them?” She challenged. “Jisung texted me saying they were all going to be there again tonight.”

“If that’s what’ll convince you.”

“I have been begging you to go back for weeks, and now you’ve agreed to go back to ask them if they agree that Jeno looks like a dog?” NingNing scoffed incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, fine, you weirdo. Be ready to leave at midnight.”

When you arrived at the club, you immediately felt out of place again. You clung onto NingNing’s arm tightly as she confidently led the way through the crowd to the VIP lounge. She flashed a smile and her VIP pass to the bouncer outside the room, who nodded and stepped aside. As soon as the two of you entered the small room that consisted of one large rounded booth, you immediately regretted your decision. When NingNing said that everyone would be there, your brain hadn’t pieced together that ‘everyone’ included Lee Jeno, who perked up with interest as the two of you walked in.

Jeno eyed you curiously, an eyebrow raised, “So you came back.”

“Y/N has something really important to ask you guys,” NingNing announced, gesturing to you pointedly.

You felt like a deer in the headlights as all of them turned to look at you. Swallowing thickly, you avoided looking at Jeno as you tried to think of anything else to say.

“Sit down, let’s get you a drink first,” Jaemin kindly saved you, gesturing to the open space at the end of the booth seat.

NingNing sat down next to Mark, who had previously been at the end, and you scooted in after her. The circular table unfortunately made it so that you were looking directly at Jeno, who you couldn’t help but sneak glances at as your brain still stubbornly tried to remember what breed of dog he reminded you of. Another round was brought out for everyone, and you gratefully started sipping on yours.

It was when he smiled up at the waiter as he was handed his drink that it finally hit you. You had to bite down on your lip not to cry out in victory.

Chenle looked at you over his sunglasses—yes he was wearing sunglasses indoors at night, as he had been last time. He asked, “So what is this really important thing you have to ask us?”

You looked at NingNing desperately, but she just gave you a deliberate nod.

“Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fine.”

With a gulp, you gathered your courage to just fucking say it and get it over with. You still wanted to be right. “Okay, think about it really hard before you answer.”

They all nodded in assent, anticipating your question.

Taking a deep breath, you finally asked, “Doesn’t Jeno kind of look like a Samoyed?”

A couple of them seemed concerned for your mental state. The rest pondered your question whole-heartedly, brows furrowed as they studied the model. Jeno had a look of pure bewilderment on his face.

Finally, Haechan gasped, “Oh my God you’re right.”

“Thank you!” You sighed victoriously, looking over at NingNing smugly.

Jisung fervently searched something on his phone, eyes widening in shock, “Now that you’ve said that I can’t unsee it.”

“What? Let me see.” Chenle yanked the phone out of Jisung’s hand, holding a picture of a fluffy white Samoyed up to Jeno’s face.

The model tilted his head to the side in confusion, perfectly mimicking the picture on-screen. Chenle burst into loud, cackling laughter.

“Shit, he-he does!” Renjun declared between his own laughs.

Murmurs of agreement erupted around the table, and you were now fully vindicated. “Thank you! Thank you! NingNing didn’t agree with me so I had to come and—”

“No, I did,” she snickered. “It was just the only way to get you to come back. You’re a whole different person when you think you’re right.”

You tried to glare at her, but you were much too ecstatic at being proven right to really be all that mad.

Jeno looked about to open his mouth as Chenle giggled incessantly and started swiping through more search results of Samoyed pictures. A horrible sense of dread covered you like scalding candle wax. It was hot against your skin, thick, and you felt like you couldn’t move or breathe. You prayed to every deity you could think of that Jeno had a really good sense of humor and wouldn’t take offense to someone he had met twice saying he looked like a dog.

When Jeno’s gaze finally focused on you, you swore you had never wished to turn invisible more in your life than in that moment. Or make time stop. Or wake up and realize it was a dream. Anything to get you out of this situation. But you were absolutely petrified, all excitement from before completely eradicated from your being.

Then suddenly all tension was gone from the air as his eyes crinkled into crescents and his mouth parted wide to let out hearty guffaws.

You looked around in alarm, waiting for the hidden camera to be revealed or something. This couldn’t be real.

He managed to contain his laughter enough to choke out between chuckles, “That’s— that's really, really funny.”

Your wide eyes were focused incredulously on him as he caught his breath. Still with a grin on his face, he continued, “Oh my god, seriously that was fucking funny. I’m a cute Samoyed, right, Y/N?”

Utterly speechless. That’s what you were. And also staring at him, completely dumbfounded.

“I think you broke her, Jeno,” Renjun snickered, reaching a fist out as if he were about to knock on your forehead like a front door.

Instinctually, you smacked his hand away from your head, a scowl overtaking your features, “I’m fine, Renjun.”

“Then why can’t you look him in the eye?”

You pointed to yourself, “Normal person—” then to Jeno, “supermodel. I’m still not used to that.”

But Renjun was right, you couldn’t look Jeno in the eye, and your whole body was practically on fire. Honestly, how were you supposed to react to this situation? With grace and comfort? No way.

“What? Seriously?” Jeno scoffed, standing up from the booth to pointedly sit on your side of it. Directly next to you.

“I’m not that— Y/N, really? You’re actually scooting away from me?”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d shifted the opposite direction from him, pressed into NingNing’s side. Meanwhile, the others were all finding this spectacle absolutely hilarious, sharing annoying snickers and giggles.

Your face was burning, and despite your satisfaction at being vindicated, you were now regretting coming to the club at all.

“Can you guys stop? You don’t have to be so annoying,” Jeno scolded his friends, much to both yours and their surprise.

Haechan had a look of mild offense and disbelief across his face, “Being annoying comes as natural to us as being ridiculously attractive comes to you.”

“Speak for yourself!” Jaemin slapped Haechan’s arm as Chenle was practically howling with laughter.

While they were distracted among themselves, Jeno’s attention was focused back on you. If you could look him in the eye, you’d be able to appreciate the genuine concern held within them. But you couldn’t, so all you could do was hear the genuine concern in his voice as he said quietly, “Sorry about them.”

“You don’t need to apologize for them,” you reassured him, messing with your fingernails.

“Anyway, I can’t stand having you be terrified of me.”

“I’ll get over it,” you cleared the audible squeak out of your throat, “eventually.”

“Eventually...” Jeno didn’t seem satisfied with that qualifier you added at the end. “Are you busy today?”

“Uhm— I don’t know. Why?”

“We should hang out.”

“What?”

“The more you’re around me, the less scary I’m going to be to you. Right?”

“I guess.”

“Then we should start right now.”

Your throat nearly closed up at this suggestion. Especially because you realized that the room was dead silent. The others had ceased their squabbling and side conversations and were awaiting your response to this too.

So you did the thing that came most naturally to you: procrastinated the issue.

“Oh, well, it’s already after midnight—”

“Then tomorrow.”

“I’m going to be super busy for a while, I just got a really big assignment at work—”

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a journalist. Just got centerfold and it’s going to make or break my whole career so it’s going to take up all of my time for the foreseeable future, so...”

Jeno was unfazed, “What’s the topic?”

“I-uh it’s...” you couldn’t even bullshit an answer at this point, your stupid tongue tripping over itself. “I don’t have one yet.”

NingNing just had to offer up her opinion right then, “Do it on Jeno!”

If you were a lesser person, you'd have strangled NingNing in that moment, because the model’s features lit up. He clearly liked this idea.

“Yeah! I would love to. If it’ll fit your guidelines or whatever, of course.”

You sighed, “It does...”

The socially anxious part of you absolutely hated this idea. But, the journalist part of you knew it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Gritting your teeth, you managed to look Lee Jeno dead in the eye and say, “I would love to interview you, Jeno. Thank you.”

“Uhm, Jeno?” Jisung speaking up stopped the wide grin that was spreading across his friend’s face. “Aren’t you like, banned from interviews or something?”

“Technically,” Jeno answered dismissively, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Technically?” You echoed in confusion. Were you just being messed with?

“Something… happened with the last in-depth interview I did a while ago,” he admitted sheepishly. “But! I’ll talk to my manager and get it cleared, I promise, Y/N!”

[jeno: manager han gave the okay for the interview! when can we get started?]

Your stomach contorted itself at the message that just popped up on your phone screen. Last night you’d left the lounge with a growing sense of dread and anxiety. And Jeno’s phone number.

[jeno: i have a fitting this afternoon but i'll be done in time to get dinner]

[jeno: if that works for you, of course]

[jeno: we can always start it another day, whatever is good for you!]

[jeno: do you want me to send you my schedule for the next few weeks to make it easier for us to get together?]

Your phone’s continuous buzzing with enthusiastic and sincerely kind messages from him caught the attention of NingNing, whose feet were currently resting on your lap as you shared your couch together.

“When did you get so popular?” She questioned teasingly, peering at you over her own phone screen.

“It's just one person,” you informed her.

“Who texts you that much in a row other than me?”

“Lee Jeno, apparently.”

“Y/N, you seem very unenthusiastic about this,” she declared with a thoughtful frown, completely abandoning her phone. “Isn’t this a really big break for you?”

“I’m still a little shocked,” you admitted. “And scared.”

She shoved you with her foot. “Well at least text him back.”

“Right.”

Not a great idea to leave him on read.

[you: a copy of your schedule would be great]

[you: and yes, i can do dinner tonight]

It was less than a minute later that he replied.

[jeno: here’s my schedule]

[jeno: attached image]

[jeno: and could you give me your address so i can drive you to dinner tonight? the place i have in mind is kind of hard to find if you haven’t been before]

A lot was happening right now. Too much for you to process. Good thing there was another brain in this room to help you process it.

“Hey, NingNIng?” You got her attention before thrusting your phone screen towards her so she could read the texts.

“Uh, three options here.” She pointed to a new finger for each one as she listed them off: “He’s ridiculously excited about this interview; he likes you; or he’s going to kill you.”

“So far the last one seems most likely.”

With a shake of your head, you sent him your address.

Your fingers anxiously tapped along your bouncing knee as you waited on your couch for the text from Jeno that he was here. He told you that the restaurant was just casual, but you weren’t sure that a model’s idea of casual wear was the same as yours.

Jeez, what were you doing? Getting dinner with and interviewing one of the most well-known models in the country? You were so out of your depth here.

A buzz came from your other hand that was tightly gripping your phone. An incoming call from Jeno. Maybe he was calling to cancel, and you could just keep rescheduling until you both gave up on the whole idea and you never showed your face in that VIP lounge again.

Answering it, your voice squeaked as you attempted to give him a casual, “Hello.”

“Hey, Y/N!” The bright voice of Lee Jeno came through your speakers. “I’m just parking now, I’ll be up in a couple minutes.”

“You don’t have to come up!” You told him a little too forcefully and quickly. Having Lee Jeno in your apartment would just be too much.

“I don’t mind—”

You leapt up from your couch and rushed towards your door, “Too late, I’m already on my way down.”

With a sharp hit of your thumb, you hung up. Pressing the down button on the elevator impatiently, you prayed that Jeno would just give up and wait in his car.

He didn’t.

The elevator doors opened to the lobby, with Jeno right outside them. In fact, you nearly slammed right into his chest, but thankfully he took a step back before you could actually collide.

His ‘woah!’ was muffled slightly by the dark face mask over his mouth, accompanying dark baseball somewhat successfully obscuring his identity. As long as you didn’t look too closely, he could be any other guy.

“I told you I’d just come down on my own.” You shook your head at him, eyes trained on your shoes.

“And I told you that I’d come up and get you,” he shot back smugly. “Seems like neither of us listen very well.”

With no response coming from you, Jeno took your silence as the cue to lead the way out to his car. It was nice, nicer than most cars you’d seen around, but surprisingly not that ostentatious. It looked like something a moderately successful businessman would drive, not an A-list model.

Inside was a comfortable leather interior, and you took quick, short notes on the small notepad you kept with you as you looked around. After all, this was an interview, and you had an article to write. You could get over your own social awkwardness and feelings of inferiority for the sake of your future career.

Hopefully.

The restaurant Jeno had chosen was definitely out-of-the way.

It was down one back alley into another, through the back of an electronics shop, up a flight of stairs, then through a room of old ladies sat at sewing machines. They all gave a friendly chorus of hellos to the two of you, seeming to know Jeno pretty well as they all told him that he’d grown since the last time he’d come by. He bowed to them bashfully as he led you through. Past the curtains on the far wall, you finally ended up at the restaurant.

Okay, out-of-the-way was an understatement.

But despite the hard-to-stumble-upon location of the restaurant, it seemed busy. The small room was tightly packed with tables that you could barely see through the mass of people seated around them and plates of food resting atop them. A loud buzz of various conversations mixed in with the bumping of plates and clattering of utensils.

Just past the entrance was a small host’s stand where a young boy stood. He looked to not be out of high school yet, presumably a young relative of the owners: their son, nephew, or grandson.

He also knew Jeno, bowing to him, “Ah, Mr. Lee. We have your reservation for you. Come.”

Jeno bowed back and looked to make sure that you were still following the two of them through the nearly claustrophobic environment.

You were, eyes drinking in every detail as your hand furiously scribbled them down on your notepad, muscle memory functioning at full speed to write every letter without looking away from the scene around you. There was one more curtain for you to go through, and it was much quieter on the other side. This was most likely a VIP section of sorts, with just a couple tables separated by a divider.

The host gestured to one of the two tables, and you gratefully sat down across from Jeno. He then took his hat and mask off, fingers working through his hair for a moment to rid it of the hat’s aftereffects.

“Thank you, Yeonwoo,” he thanked the host, which you repeated as well.

The boy, who you now knew to be named Yeonwoo, bowed politely to the both of you before scurrying off.

“You must come here often,” you commented, hand poised to write his response.

“My family and I came here a lot when I was younger. Since I started my career it’s been difficult to eat here as often as I did before. Especially because their food isn’t technically allowed in my diet,” he had a mischievous glint in his eye as then he added, “But you won’t tell on me, right?”

“Of course not, unless writing an article about you that will be published in a magazine counts as tattling,” you snorted, much to his delight.

He laughed, “Right, right. That’s pretty much the ultimate form of tattling, huh?”

“If it gets published, yeah. If not, then the only people who will know will be you, me, and my editor. And I suppose Yeonwoo and our server, as well.”

“Speaking of our server, there she is!” Jeno announced, making the young girl who was approaching your table blush behind her notepad. She was probably around Yeonwoo’s age, maybe a little older.

“Good evening,” she greeted the two of you politely. “My name is Jieun, I’ll be your server tonight. Are you ready to order?”

You were a bit confused by her question, you hadn’t been given any menus yet. But Jeno seemed completely unfazed.

“Two orders of my regular, please,” he requested sweetly, which she quickly scribbled down on her pad.

“Of course, it’ll be out soon,” she informed you before hurrying away.

He turned back to you, “Jieun is Yeonwoo’s older cousin, their grandparents own the restaurant.”

You added this to your notes as well. It could be nice to add in to set the scene and show how down-to-Earth Jeno was, knowing this family as well as his own and not forgetting his roots even as a big model. Or something like that, you’d figure it out eventually.

“So, interview questions?” He prompted you, bringing you out of your contemplative planning ahead. You’d write that up later.

“Earlier you had mentioned your family, tell me a bit about them. Brothers, sisters?”

Could you have looked that information up online and found it? Definitely, but you wanted it from the source, to see if he would provide you with anything that wasn’t already out there. And you wanted to get a feel of your subject.

“Well there’s my parents, my older sister, and me. They’re not famous or anything. My parents own a grocery store nearby, and my sister’s a teacher.”

“You took my next question right out of my mouth,” you clicked your tongue in teasing disappointment, continuing on with a different one. “You said you used to come here often with your family, what are some other things you miss from your childhood that you don’t do as often?”

Jeno’s face easily betrayed his delighted surprise, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that one.”

“Hm?”

“That’s a good question. Normally I get asked about celebrity crushes or my ideal type.”

You tilted your head to the side curiously, “If you thought that I was just going to ask you the same questions you usually get asked, why did you offer for me to interview you?”

“Never mind, never mind, sorry.” He coughed awkwardly, then quickly went to get off that topic, “Uh, it might sound kind of weird, but I used to help out at my parents’ store a lot as a kid. It was my first job I ever had. As soon as I could reach the register on a high stool, they put me to work. It’s actually how I got scouted, for modeling. My manager now just happened to come through my line while I was on the register and gave me his card. I thought it was a scam, honestly. But Jaemin made me give him a call, and he turned out to be legit. Even if I had the time to help at the store now, I’d just be too much of a distraction if I tried. And trust me, I tried. Once. So yeah, I miss helping out there.”

The desire for an answer to your other question was still there, but it was a path that you didn’t want to go down right now. Right now was time for the interview. So you simply scratched down his statement about his parents’ shop, then shorthanded off to the side ‘why me?’ as you readied your next question.

“You knew Jaemin before you guys were famous?”

“Yeah, we’ve been friends forever.” A fond smile crossed Jeno’s face. “Seatmates since primary school. He blew up with streaming first before I got my break as a model, actually. Most people usually assume it’s the other way around.”

“And what about the others?”

As Jeno eagerly answered your questions and you filled up page after page on your notepad, there was still that one lingering in the back of your mind.

Why you?

Over the course of a couple weeks, you’d spent a considerable amount of time with Jeno. According to his schedule that he had sent you, every free moment he got was taken up by your interview. Sometimes it would be more formal, like your first dinner meeting, and sometimes it was more casual, get-togethers in the lounge with the other VIP members or a riverside walk that felt more like two friends talking than a professional interview. And it all went in your notes, it would all go in your article. This was going to be a great article. The real Lee Jeno when he’s relaxed, what he’s like off the runway.

Today was very special, however, as you’d been invited to tag along to one of his photoshoots. You were just outside the building housed at the address you’d been given when you were met by a young man whose stern gaze never left you. It seemed as if he had been waiting for you.

“Are you the journalist?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, completely skipping any greetings.

“Ah yes, Y/L/N Y/N,” you confirmed, nodding your head respectfully to him as you held out your VIP lounge card as proof. Jeno told you that would be your pass to get in.

The man only scrutinized the card for a moment before he pivoted on his heel, “Follow me.”

You kept his hurried pace easily, ready to ask him questions as well, “So what’s your job here?”

He took a moment to push open a door that then nearly closed on you before answering, “I’m Lee Jeno’s PA.”

“Oh, Song Eunseok!” The name easily came to your mind.

The PA’s eyes widened in surprise, “Jeno’s brought me up?”

“Of course he has! You’re with him pretty much all the time, how could he not mention you?” You flipped through your notebook to where you’d taken previous notes about him, “Here, I asked him to walk me through his typical day, and he mentioned ‘Seokkie’ like seven times.”

Eunseok physically grimaced at this, “I’ve requested that he not call me that.”

“Why? I think it’s a cute nickname.”

“Really?” His eyes were now trained on his shoes as opposed to his previous laser focus on the end of the hallway. Your eyes could’ve been playing tricks on you, but you swore the tips of his ears were tinged pink, too.

There was another door, and this time you definitely couldn’t miss the fact that he held it open for you this time.

“Really,” you echoed.

The door had led to what you could really only imagine to be the set. Huge lightboxes, a couple cameras, and a multitude of people all set up with a single black sheet as the focal point. A white loveseat contrasted it starkly, but that wasn’t where your eyes were drawn. They were drawn to the man seated elegantly atop it, dressed head-to-toe like the playboy prince of a small but filthy rich country. Lee Jeno.

“You can wait for him over here with me,” Eunseok tapped your elbow with a feather-light touch, snapping you from your near-trance.

“Thanks.” You walked with him towards a table lined with various food and drink.

Your focus was still on the PA as he got a bottle of water, opened it, took a lemon slice from a small bowl and squeezed it into the drink before plopping a blue straw in as well. Then didn’t drink it. Instead, he turned back to you and held it in his hand patiently.

“The straw disturbs the makeup as little as possible,” Eunseok explained to you, and it was then that you realized it wasn’t for him, it was for Jeno. “Makes the makeup artists’ lives a little bit easier.”

“That’s very considerate. I wouldn’t have even thought of that,” you commented, taking note of that process as your focus returned back to Jeno and the photoshoot.

Knowing that your next question might be considered disrespectful, you leaned closer to Eunseok to whisper, “So who’s the photographer?”

He understood your delicacy, replying back equally quiet, “Chen Man, she’s brilliant. Jeno’s worked with her in the past, but this is his first solo shoot with her. It’s for the new YSL campaign that he was chosen to be the face of.”

And you were rocketed back to the fact that Lee Jeno was a famous model. Obviously, you hadn’t really forgotten it, but in your casual meetings and interviewing outside of his work, the magnitude of it was lessened. But a PA, giant photoshoot, famous photographer, and being selected as the new face of a campaign for a huge designer really hammered in the famous model part.

“Wow.”

It was just then that Chen Man called for a short break, and the silent studio was immediately filled with chatter. Jeno made a beeline for you and Eunseok, his normal contagious grin across his face, “Hey, Y/N! I’m glad you made it here okay.”

Up close, you could appreciate the detail and regality of his outfit. It was made of crushed velvet of a deep cerulean color; various intricate medals flashing on his chest; dark epaulettes making his already broad shoulders even more imposing; large black boots; and silver jewelry and chains glinting on his fingers and neck.

Eunseok offered the water out to Jeno then, and he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks, Eunseok.”

You continued from the model’s earlier statement, “Yeah, Eunseok made sure I got to the right place.”

“Good, I sent him out there to get you.” He turned on his PA, “You didn’t give Y/N a hard time, did you?”

“My job is to make sure none of your insane fans somehow get in here,” the other man scoffed.

“So you did give her a hard time.”

Eunseok rolled his eyes at Jeno’s teasing words. Despite knowing that they were employer-employee, it felt much more like two friends to you. You added that to your notes.

Jeno took a couple big sips of his water, and you took this time to ask him a couple of questions.

“So Eunseok was saying that this shoot is for the new YSL campaign that you’re the face of. Have you ever done something like this before?”

He blinked at you a couple times before actually replying, “Yeah, it’s really an honor and a big opportunity to be chosen for this. I’ve done solo shoots before, but not ones of this magnitude.”

Another figure approached your small group, a makeup artist. Jeno handed his water back to Eunseok before leading the way a little further away to sit in a chair. As the makeup artist attended to his makeup, you continued with the interview.

“How familiar are you with the photographer on this shoot?”

“I’ve worked with Chen Man a few times before—” he paused to let the makeup artist apply his lip color again. After she was done, he continued, “Her ideas are incredible and she’s honestly so wonderful to work with. However, all those other times I was with other models, so doing a solo photoshoot with her is a bit nerve-wracking. She’s the kind of person that you really want to make proud, you know?”

Thinking of Ms. Zhang and her disappointment in you earlier, you nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

There was a call for everyone to start getting back into their places, and you took this as your cue to leave Jeno alone. He had work to do.

The makeup artist did one touch up on his face before letting him up out of the chair, another person coming to his side to fix his hair up just the way they wanted it, walking alongside him awkwardly to do so.

“Take a bunch of notes on your little notepad, Y/N!” Jeno quipped as he walked back in front of the camera.

“Will do!” You affirmed, holding your notebook above your head and shaking it slightly so he could see it.

Returning to your previous spot off to the side with Eunseok, you had a fond smile on your lips from your short interaction with Jeno. Eunseok had a little smirk of his own as he gazed at you.

“And what’s that smile for?” You questioned, head tilted.

“Nothing.”

You elbowed him with a short giggle, “Come on, tell me.”

“No,” he shook his head, that same smile on his lips.

Even as you rolled your eyes, your focus never faltered from Eunseok. You changed tactics, a slight pout on your face as you asked again, “Please, Seokkie?”

Finally, he relented, “You’re pretty special, Y/N.”

“What?” You questioned in pleasant surprise.

“For Manager Han to have approved this interview after what happened last time, Jeno probably begged.”

“I can't imagine what would be so special about me.”

Eunseok had a brightness to his features that you hadn’t seen yet as he replied, “I can.”

You raised an eyebrow, “And what is it?”

Shouts from the set took both your attentions away from each other. Chen Man had been calling directions out during the whole shoot, but never with such aggression as then.

“Jeno! Lee Jeno!”

You scanned the scene in front of you as you tried to figure out what exactly was happening. Jeno’s arms were crossed across his chest, a startlingly stern but calm gaze focused on… you?

“Jeno can you—ugh, fifteen-minute break, everybody!” She yelled out in exasperation, the rest of the crew breaking the silence, scattering from the set.

Chen Man continued addressing her model, “Jeno, your expressions… they’re off.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on them.”

Despite acknowledging her words, you were doubtful of if he had actually registered them, stalking off the set with seemingly one destination in mind.

“Y/N,” Jeno stopped right by you and Eunseok. “Can I speak with you for a second?”

“Of course,” you nodded, well aware of how the crew was only pretending to be busy, instead actually focused on the three of you.

Your subject took off again, and you guessed that he anticipated that you’d follow him. Which you did. Eunseok stayed behind.

His longer legs made it a little hard to keep up with him as he took twists and turns down hallways of the building.

“Jeno,” you breathed out, seeming to finally snap him out of whatever mood he had been in.

Immediately, he slowed down to your pace, a faint smile coming to his lips, “Sorry, long legs.”

“Where are we going?”

He abruptly stopped, “Here is fine.”

It was the middle of some random hallway. He apparently didn’t have an actual destination in mind, more-so a distance.

“So what do you need to talk to me about?” You questioned, pencil and notepad at the ready. It had to be something for the interview, it couldn’t possibly be anything else.

“Y/N…” Jeno reached his hands out to cover yours, gently lowering the pencil and notepad for you. His hands were big and warm on yours, and you felt nerves flare up at his clear insinuation that this wasn’t for the interview.

“Jeno…” you said back with a nervous half-giggle. He was still holding your hands.

“This isn’t part of the interview. I’m not interviewee Jeno, and you’re not interviewer Y/N right now.”

“Okay…”

As soon as you had accepted these terms, he released his feather-light hold on your hands and took his own back to wring them nervously. What could Lee Jeno possibly be nervous about?

“Hm, I’ve never done this before,” he chuckled, pressing a palm to the center of his chest.

“Done what?”

“Okay, I’m just going to be upfront. Uh, I think you’re super great, and pretty, and awesome and I’d really like to be able to take you out on a date some time.”

This had to be a fucking joke. No way that someone who looks like him, an actual model, someone who gets paid for being ridiculously attractive, could actually be asking you out. This had to be a sick, terrible, horrible joke he was playing on you.

And yet as his big brown eyes gazed at you, wide and hopeful, looking a lot like a puppy waiting to be adopted from some animal shelter, you knew that he was being genuine.

And you panicked.

Stuttering for a moment, you finally choked out the most formal and emotionally removed response you could’ve come up with, “I’m sorry, I—that wouldn’t be appropriate, since I’m interviewing you right now. A bias or conflict of interest would damage the integrity of my piece as well as my career.”

Surprisingly, his features didn’t seem as crestfallen as you anticipated, his expressions were always so easy to read. He, in fact, seemed very happy with your reply.

“I get it,” he beamed at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze for a moment before letting it go. “After the article, then.”

That wasn’t what you meant. At all. But between your own burning cheeks and internal state of panic, you couldn’t express this to him. Or even really process your own thoughts right then.

“We should head back, Eunseok will come looking for us soon,” Jeno nodded with his head back in the general direction that you two had come from.

He kept a polite distance from you, allowing some of the panic alarms blaring in your mind to quiet just a bit. You tried to brainstorm ways you could possibly keep this interview going forever. Ways to give you as much time as possible. To do what, exactly? Maybe come up with an actual way of rejecting him. Or maybe give him enough time to change his romantic focus to someone else, so that he would never end up revisiting this subject after the interview.

You could dream.

“Oh my god!” NingNing exclaimed. “Are you shitting me?!”

You’d just recalled your day to your roommate, finally ending at the part where Jeno had asked you on a date. She had literally done a spit-take back into her soda as she smacked your leg in excitement.

Despite still being in disbelief yourself, Jeno had been extremely up-front and clear about it. No room for misinterpretation. Unlike your response to him.

“Well when’s the date?” NingNing squealed, pressing for more information.

“I said no,” you deadpanned.

“What?”

“Well, kind of.”

At the clear grimace on your face, your friend sighed, “Y/N, what did you tell him? Verbatim.”

“I told him that it would be inappropriate right now because a bias or conflict of interest would ruin the integrity of my piece and any career opportunity that came out of it,” you repeated your statement from earlier almost word-for-word, sure that it would be burned into your memory for the rest of your life.

“You do know that he now definitely thinks that you were telling him to just wait until after the article is over, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands and rubbing your face in exasperation.

“You don’t want to go on a date with Jeno?”

“I don’t want to date Lee Jeno,” you confirmed, nodding the head that you were still holding.

“Let me just review the situation here: you’ve got a very sweet, very funny, very hot guy that’s into you. What’s the problem?”

“He’s hot.”

Finally, you’d found it. The real reason you’d said no, the real reason you had a deep pit of dread in your stomach as soon as the words had left Jeno’s mouth hours earlier.

She snorted, “That’s a problem?”

“His entire career is based off being hot, he’s a model,” you explained rather desperately, relieved to finally be able to put your tumultuous thoughts into proper words. “I can’t deal with all that shit that comes with it. I just can’t.”

“So you’ll never want to date him? You’re not going to change your mind?”

“No, never. I couldn’t.”

“Never say never,” NingNing taunted with a sing-song voice, but at your eye-roll, became more serious. “Okay, let’s just say you’ll never date Jeno in your life—despite the fact that nothing is ever definite—you shouldn’t lead him on. Intentional or otherwise. Don’t let him spend the next few weeks thinking that you two are going to date after the article’s over.”

The anxiety was still there, however. “What if he doesn’t actually think that and I just misunderstood him? What if he just naturally gets over me in the next few weeks and doesn’t need me to confront him about this and straight-up reject him? He’s probably never been rejected in his life, what if he doesn’t take it well? What—”

She cut your endless strings of ‘what if’s short, “Y/N, didn’t he say that he’d never done this before?”

Realization hit you straight to the gut. “What if me rejecting him makes him never want to ask anybody else out again for the rest of his life and I scar him permanently?”

Your roommate had a clear look of ‘yikes’ on her face, and pure mortification ran through every inch of you.

“Never mind, there’s no way I could ever have such an impact on Lee Jeno’s life, that’s fucking ridiculous. I’m just some normal person, some journalist, and he’s literally a supermodel. No way this would actually matter to someone like that.”

“Y/N, don’t say stuff like that,” NingNing frowned, pulling some hair away from your face gently. “You matter to me, remember? You’re my best friend.”

Completely ignoring her, you continued, “I just have to be upfront with him, tell him I don’t want to go on a date with him, and be done with it. He’ll probably never think about it again for the rest of his life.”

She let out a sigh as if she were going to say something but thought better of it. You didn’t press her; your mind had been made up.

You couldn’t do it.

The next time you saw Jeno, you had every intention of being upfront. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were an absolute coward. Some part of you didn’t want to tell him, for whatever reason.

Maybe because the way his face absolutely lit up when he saw you was something you’d never seen anybody do for you before. Maybe because he asked you how your day was and didn’t look disinterested in your answer. Maybe because no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that this was a professional interview, he made you feel so at ease that you somehow talked more about yourself than him.

Maybe because you did kind of want to date him.

Your notebook had been completely abandoned about fifteen minutes into your ‘lunch meeting,’ a fact that went mostly unnoticed by you. Until the waiter came with the bill and you had to move it out of the way for him to set it on the tabletop. You’d written just a couple short notes, nothing substantial. That wasn’t an interview, you couldn’t even try to bullshit it to yourself. That was a date-but-not-a-date. And you enjoyed yourself.

As you contemplated over your mostly-blank page, Jeno had already tucked his own card into the pouch and waved the waiter back over. Before you could argue him paying for you, the waiter was halfway across the restaurant.

“Jeno, I can pay for my own food,” you reminded him gently, feeling very much like you were scolding an over-excited puppy that had accidentally knocked over a potted plant in its haste to greet you.

“And I can pay for both of ours,” he countered.

You held his gaze firmly, waiting for him to— there it was.

His mouth split into a sheepish grin as he held up his hands in surrender, “Alright, I get it, I get it. Interview time right now. We’ll split the check for now.”

For now.

Maybe you liked the idea of that.

“Except this one, since they already ran my card,” Jeno added, a victorious smirk on his face, one that had you shaking your head fondly.

“Can I at least tip?”

“Already added that on the receipt.”

“How dare you be so thoughtful and respectful.”

He seemed about ready to quip something back when a distant chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a cursory glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.

Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. Maybe he should have left his mask and hat on, or not chosen a table by the window.

And your heart dropped as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just some cute guy named Lee Jeno, but a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly.

You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t subject yourself to that. It would be too much for you.

With the girls still watching the two of you, you collected your notepad and stood up, stiffly bowing to him. “Thank you for allowing me to interview you, Mr. Lee.”

Thankfully, he took your lead, standing and returning your bow, “Of course, thank you as well, Ms. Y/L/N.”

Hopefully the girls got the message that this was business and nothing else. A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life.

The light hum that had been in Ms. Zhang’s throat through most of her reading of your article suddenly changed tone as she came to the ending. Her brow furrowed thoughtfully, and your mind was running wild with nerves as you waited for her to speak.

“It’s good, Y/N,” she started.

You sensed a ‘but’ coming next.

“But… in the very first paragraph you introduce him as model by day, and explorer by night, or something to that effect.”

“Yes, that’s how he and his friends introduced him.”

“But you never bring up his ‘exploring’ again. This is about his life as a model and what he’s like outside of modelling here. You hooked me on the exploring part, but left me ultimately unsatisfied with that point.”

She was right. She was absolutely right. In your own personal whirlwind of confusion about your emotions and wants, you’d left a loose end in your article.

Ms. Zhang continued, her tone rising, “But…”

Oh, another ‘but.’

“This might just be perfect for a sequel. We publish this and advertise it as a two-part look into him, the first part his model by day, and the second part all about him as an explorer.”

You were caught off-guard, “You want to publish it?”

You had honestly expected her to throw it in the trash and fire you. You’d been so all over the place the entire time you’d been working on the article, you didn’t think it was anywhere close to your best work.

“Of course, this is the most hard-hitting and real piece that’s ever been done about the man! Most of it is tabloid nonsense. Not to mention that this is the first interview he’s done in over a year, it’s fresh content. It’s perfect, Y/N.”

Ms. Zhang just called your article perfect. You were on Cloud Nine, barely listening as she continued.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get a second interview with him? Maybe even tag along on one of his exploring trips or something, like how you went to one of his photoshoots in this one?”

That snapped you back into reality. Going on a trip with Jeno? That sounded dicey. But… also a chance to extend the interview, prolong the inevitable: his expectation that you’ll start dating after the interview. Your worst fear.

Avoiding an uncomfortable scenario and making your career out of it? It was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.

“Of course, Ms. Zhang.”

Right as you walked into the VIP lounge, you were met with the expectant face of Jeno. You’d agreed to meet him there on your lunch break, right after your morning meeting with Ms. Zhang, to let him know if she was going to move forward with publishing your article or not. It felt a bit weird being at a nightclub in the middle of the day in your work clothes, but it was one of the more private places to meet with him.

“So?” He asked hopefully. “How’d it go?”

“She’s going to publish it,” you breathed out, still in shock yourself.

Two strong arms were suddenly around you, pulling you into a warm chest that was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Oh my god!” Jeno hugged you tightly. “Congrats, Y/N! I’m so proud of you!”

You hugged him back for a moment, enjoying it more than you should have considering you swore up and down that you weren’t going to let yourself date him. Then you remembered the other half of the conversation, your arms going limp.

“And she wants a second part.”

“That’s great!” He exclaimed, then after another moment, it seemed to have dawned on him. “Oh wait.”

And he let go of you, a particular chill coming to your body as he took a step back from you, declaring, “Professionalism. No bias or conflict of interest.”

You felt bad. You felt so bad. And yet you nodded, “Yeah, it’s still going to have to be like that.”

Maybe forever, if you could swing it just right.

“So… a second part about what, exactly? The article was super great, but I’m not sure how I could be interesting enough for a sequel.”

“Your ‘exploring,’” you explained. “I had mentioned it, but never returned to the topic or expanded on it, so she wants this whole second part to be about your trips and you know… all that stuff. Whatever you get up to when you’re not a model, and when you’re not a regular dude here.”

A rather cheeky grin spread across his face at this, and you didn’t want to know why he was so excited about you not dating, because you had a feeling it would be something awful close to it.

“Well then, what better way to get to know Explorer Jeno than coming with me on my trip to a tropical island next week?”

You were taken aback by both the invite but also by the event itself. After all, Jeno had given you his entire schedule for the past two months, which included next week. And you didn’t remember a trip being anywhere on there.

“Since when have you been going to a tropical island next week?” You asked incredulously.

“Since now.”

You sighed, rubbing your face. “Jeno, you can’t drop everything in your life just to do this. I can wait until whenever your next actual scheduled break is for whatever trip you make then.”

“Yeah, but I can’t wait,” he insisted, a near pout across his features. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, half-mumbling to himself, “I’m calling my manager right now. He owes me vacation days anyway, I’ll just take them early. Make my three-week backpacking trip in Europe next year fifteen days instead. I can’t wait.”

That went straight to your heart, and you felt your chest hurt from the implications of that. He couldn’t wait until he could date you. With every passing moment you felt like a more and more terrible human being. Which you were, you absolutely were just a horrible human being for doing this to him. After all, like you’d said, you were never going to date Lee Jeno.

Right?

One week later and you were in your third airport of the trip, your second layover as you waited for your connecting flight. You’d been in interviewer mode since Jeno had picked you up to head to the first airport that morning. Asking questions, writing answers, asking more questions. There was no room for anything but business on this trip. This article would be the follow-up to your first piece that your boss thought was perfect. So this had to be more perfect than perfect. You wanted to make her proud.

Jeno, surprisingly, was being rather professional too. Other than the slight touch here, an odd phrase there that couldn’t exactly be classified as professional. A brush of your hands as he tried to get your attention, off-handed comment about how cute you were when you were focused taking notes. You’d only remind him that this was a professional article, hoping that he couldn’t see the bashful smile on your lips.

Or even now, he returned from what was supposed to be a quick bathroom break with waters and snacks for the both of you.

“How much do I owe you?” You asked as you accepted the food and drink.

“Nothing.”

You frowned.

“Come on, Y/N,” he sighed in exasperation, cracking open his own water bottle. “I know we’re serious professional interviewing here, but two people doing business together can still be friendly and do nice gestures for each other.”

He was right. He was absolutely right. You were being a jerk for no reason. Well, not for no reason. There was a small voice in your head that hoped that maybe if you pushed him away enough now he would change his mind about wanting to date you, that he’d think you were actually a jerk. And that little voice was apparently wrong. And also a piece of shit. Jeno didn’t deserve that.

“Right, sorry,” you shook your grumpy face off, offering him a smile instead. “Thanks, Jeno.”

He pulled down his face mask to be able to drink the water, and that combined with his inconspicuous baseball cap brought back the idea that he was a famous celebrity who had to cover up his appearance when he went out to avoid being detected. Even in some random foreign country you didn’t know the name of on a layover. If you did actually start dating him, would he have to wear those on your dates? Any time you wanted to spend time together in public? Would you have to start wearing them?

Those were ridiculous thoughts, especially because you were never going to date Lee Jeno.

Right?

On the plane, you halted the interview to allow the two of you to both take naps, already feeling the toll of the heavy travelling you’d done today. And you’d be doing even more soon, as this flight wouldn’t even take you to the island directly, you had to take a ferry from a different island’s airport out to the actual island that was your destination. Then a car ride of some sort from the harbor to wherever you were staying. And based off the clothes Jeno had requested you bring, you’d be getting very in touch with nature on this trip, another exhausting idea.

All for an interview. All for a way to avoid the inevitable.

As you snoozed, not quite asleep yet, you felt Jeno slowly shift in his sleep, his head lolling to the side until it finally found a resting place on your shoulder. Even in his sleep this man completely disregarded professionalism.

But you were too tired to complain, soon falling asleep yourself, with your own head rolling until it finally found a resting place on his.

“So what exactly happened at your last interview that was so bad you were banned from them?”

Your questions continued as soon as you’d left the airport on the island, only halting when you were caught off-guard by Jeno’s choice of transportation: a cream yellow moped. Which you were now on the back of, clinging onto your bag for dear life. Thank God you had packed light like he suggested.

“It’s kind of a long story,” he replied loudly over the wind. “I’ll tell you when we get to the hotel, okay?”

“Fine.”

“We’ve got some tighter turns coming up, you might want to hold on to something actually attached to the moped.”

He didn’t say it, but you knew what he meant. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you then held onto him for dear life as he whipped around the turns. How he could possibly make a moped feel dangerous was truly incredible to you.

“Yeah, that—” he stumbled over a voice crack. “That’s good. Much more secure.”

“This question shouldn’t be a long story: Have you ever driven one of these things before?”

The hotel was small and homey, with so few rooms that the two of you would be sharing one. Jeno had already informed you of that beforehand, having asked for the okay from you, that sharing the room wouldn’t be too unprofessional. While it definitely was, there were no other rooms available, so you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. When he informed you that there were two beds, you finally agreed.

Except it wasn’t two beds, as you found out when you walked in. It was a bed and a pull-out couch. And he’d already claimed the pull-out couch for himself.

“Jeno,” you sighed again as you watched him set his stuff down on the less comfortable option. “This isn’t two beds.”

He shrugged, “We have separate places to sleep, that’s what you were worried about, right?”

Your patience was wearing thin. It was almost annoying how sweet he was. Well, it wasn’t really him being sweet that annoyed you. It was the sneaky ways he liked to do it.

“Jeno…” you repeated his name, trailing off as you waited for him acknowledge you.

He was still messing around with setting up the pull-out couch.

“Jeno, look at me.”

At your request, he immediately did so, the attentiveness catching you off-guard for a moment. But you were determined.

“I don’t like being lied to or tricked. Even if it’s something nice, you know? It’s sweet, but I like to make my own decisions about things. Even things that may seem little to you, like splitting the bill at restaurants, or whether you’re coming up to get me or I’m going down to meet you, or you dropping all your plans to go on some spur-of-the-moment trip, or who’s taking the couch and who’s taking the bed. I’d like a say in the matter, okay?”

He gulped, seeming to really be taking his time to mull over what you were saying. And you did, too. It was another reason that you could never date him. He was a celebrity, he was used to being able to do whatever, to not having to worry about the kinds of things normal people like you had to worry about. The implications of that terrified you. You couldn’t do it.

Finally, he said, “Okay, yeah. I understand. I never really saw it like that, I’m sorry. I should’ve been more thoughtful of how it was making you feel. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

Shit, this dude was way too fucking sweet.

You nodded, mumbling some kind of response to the genuine apology he’d given you.

Clearly as eager to change the topic as you, Jeno spoke up, “So, what was it that you’d asked me on the moped earlier?”

And you were more than happy to revisit that, snatching up your notebook from your bag and sitting on the bed, “What happened at your last interview that caused you to be banned from them?”

“Oh, right,” he physically grimaced at this, rubbing his face with his hands for a moment. “It’s a long story, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ve got plenty of paper.”

Jeno let out a sigh, sitting on the pull-out couch. “No, Y/N. I can tell you, but you can’t write it down, you can’t publish it. I’m sorry to have to ask you this, because I know how dedicated you are to the integrity of your work but… if you’re going to publish it, I can’t tell you. I’m sorry. The others don’t even know the whole story. Jaemin doesn’t know.”

His words struck you differently, hearing the genuine defeat and distress in his voice. With a twinging heart, you tucked your notepad and pencil back into your bag. For someone who had been preaching about professionalism and keeping the integrity of your article, you were really so ready to throw it out for him as soon as he asked, weren’t you?

“I won’t write it down, I won’t tell a soul,” you reassured him, wanting nothing more than to sit down next to him and hold his hand and tell him that everything was okay. But you still clung onto some little semblance of professionalism here. For some fucking reason, when it was getting clearer by the minute that all your resistance would be futile.

Just a glimmer of a smile was across his lips for a moment at your actions before it was taken over by the same pensive face as before, and he started the story.

“It was… oh probably over a year ago now. I was still kind of new to the modelling industry, but it felt like everyone’s eyes were on me. My company toted me around as their rising star and every second I wasn’t at a gig, I was being interviewed by someone. It was a lot, but it was freaking awesome.”

The brightness in his features that had been there as he recalled the earlier days of his career suddenly turned dark at his next words. “Until this one interview. It was for a smaller magazine, and my manager didn’t even know why I wanted to do the interview. But it was a magazine that my mom liked to read, and I wanted her to be able to see her son in it. So I sat down with the interviewer, and it felt like it was going like all my other interviews had gone. And maybe because I wanted to really make a good impression on her, so the article my mom read would be as positive as possible, I accidentally led her on or something like that.”

You tilted your head curiously at this last statement. If it had come from any other hot guy, you might have doubted his actual intentions, but it was Jeno. You knew that he wasn’t only physically attractive but had such a way of being naturally charming and making people feel at ease that it was impossible not to be drawn in by his attractive personality. He didn’t do it on purpose, he was just a genuinely nice guy.

“But afterwards, she asked for my number. I said no. I let her down as easy as I could, and she took it with grace. Or I had thought so until Manager Han and the CEO of my company—who I had never met until this—sat me down in his office and showed me a naked picture of some guy and asked if it was me. You couldn’t see his face, and his build was similar to mine, so I could see how they were doubtful. It wasn’t me, but that didn’t matter. The interviewer had sent those pictures to my company saying that if they didn’t pay her a bunch of money, she would post them online saying they were of me.”

Your eyes widened almost comically at this. You couldn’t believe that someone could actually think of doing something like that, especially to Jeno.

“Now, the company doesn’t take very well to people trying to extort them or threaten their people, so she was taken care of.” After a pause, his eyes shot open comically wide as he shook his head fervently, “Legally, in the legal system, it’s not like my company like killed her or anything, I phrased that very badly.”

A quiet laugh came from your mouth at his backpedaling.

“Anyway, they decided that after that, it would be best for me to not do interviews for a while. I don’t really know what happened to her after the court case, but to my knowledge, she hasn’t bothered us. And I haven’t had an interview since. Until you.”

“Until me,” you echoed, mind reeling from this story.

This interview really meant more to Jeno than you had realized before. You’d incorrectly and selfishly assumed that he was so invested in it just because he liked you. But it was more than that. His last interview had been a disaster, the interviewer threatened to humiliate him publicly, and betrayed him. He had taken a chance on you to be different than that, taken a chance to make you his first interview back after the shit the last one had put him through. You were sure that he was feeling the pressure from his company to make it the best possible return to them ever. And he had entrusted it all with you.

You weren’t sure of how long you’d been sitting in silence for, but it started suffocating you, so you finally choked out, “I’m sorry she did that to you. She’s… a bitch.”

Jeno chuckled, “I guess. I kind of just feel bad for her.”

“I don’t,” you snorted, feeling your blood starting to boil as you thought about it even more. “She tried to ruin your career and reputation because she got rejected. It’s not your fault, Jeno. You didn’t do anything to deserve that. She’s just a bitch.”

While he didn’t outright agree with you, the faint smile on his features was still apparent as he went to stand up, forcing some pep into his tone. “Okay, time for some island exploring. After all, you’re here for Explorer Jeno, right?”

“Right!”

Right?

Being on the island was refreshing. Not only because you’d never been on a trip to a place quite like it before, but just everything felt absolutely perfect. It was the perfect temperature outside, the warm sun being balanced out by a cool breeze that blew through your hair, the water surrounding you was the perfect clear blue, the flora the perfect rich green, and the man with you was… perfect.

You’d given up on trying to keep your fond thoughts of Jeno at bay. He was wonderful, that was undeniable. And as you went around the island together, his baseball cap and face mask left behind in the hotel room, the notion of his fame slipped from your mind. Sure, you were still writing down your observations, small adventures, and pertinent questions you asked him. But you weren’t interviewing Famous Supermodel Jeno right now, you were interviewing Explorer Jeno. And he was someone you could let yourself fall for, even for just a few days on this little island.

After your third day on the island as you signed onto the hotel wifi to transcribe your notes from your notebook to your word document on your laptop, a few email notifications popped up, catching your attention. Reception wasn’t the best, and you had so many other things occupying your focus and time—mainly Jeno—that you rarely checked your phone. Not to mention that before you’d left, you were unsure of if you’d even have cell phone service on the island, so you’d told your friends to email you if they needed anything.

One was an email from NingNing, the short preview of her message that you could see making you shake your head. You were not on a romantic getaway with Jeno.

The next was some flyer from a store advertising their latest sale, which you quickly discarded in favor of opening the one from Ms. Zhang. The person who was literally paying for you to be there right then.

The gist of her email was basically just asking for a status update, a routine check-in to see how your research and interview was coming along. You filled her in on what kind of direction and outline you were thinking of for the article, telling her some of the things you’d done together around the island, framing it as professionally as you could. However, it was very hard to make it business-like, you realized in slight defeat as you reread the email draft to yourself. Maybe you could make it casual-business-friendly-sounding instead. After editing a couple phrases here and there, you read it one more time. Satisfied that you’d made it sound the least like a ‘romantic getaway’ as possible, you hit send.

You had just sent it when Jeno emerged from the bathroom, fully clothed and toweling off his wet hair.

When the two of you had gotten back from wandering the streets and seeing the nightlife of the town, you’d given him first shower of the night, wanting to sort out your notes as soon as possible. You had a lot to move over just from that night alone, especially the moment when Jeno was ordering something from an older street vendor and had suddenly busted out some local dialect he’d picked up from God knows where. And the man knew what he was saying too. Jeno never ceased to amaze you.

“Jeno,” you called his name out from where you sat cross-legged on the bed, laptop with the email still up in front of you.

“Hm?” He hummed in acknowledgement, abandoning his towel in order to run his fingers through his damp hair.

“The way the guys had described your exploring, and the stuff you’d told me to bring made me think it’d be more… rugged than this.”

A handsome, crooked grin split his lips, seeming very delighted at your observation, “And what did the guys tell you?”

“Jaemin and Renjun seemed fearful for my life and told me to be safe; Haechan and Chenle were rather ecstatic and told me to have fun in a tone that made me not want to know their implications; Mark told me to bring plenty of water and a first aid kit; and Jisung… well he didn’t actually say anything but his face said it all.”

“You talked to all the guys about the trip?”

“Not by choice, NingNing brought me to an influencer party with Jisung, Jaemin, and Renjun the other day, and I was summoned to the lounge by Chenle and subsequently ambushed by him, Haechan, and Mark about it.”

“They’re all menaces,” Jeno shook his head fondly. “But don’t worry, I’ve got some plans for us tomorrow.”

“That sounds ominous.”

He giggled.

“So we’re hiking to the top of this volcano?” You summarized what Jeno had just told you, in much fewer words.

“Yep!”

“Then camping near the top, which we may or may not be allowed to do.”

“Yep!”

“Without a guide.”

“I’m your guide, Y/N! I do this kind of stuff all the time, and there’s a trail to follow anyway.”

“Now I know why Jaemin and Renjun feared for my life.”

“They were being dramatic, it’ll be fine.”

“Oh I’m not protesting going, I’ll just make sure to type up my will in the notes app in my phone first.”

“Now you’re being dramatic.”

You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright. I won’t write my final will and testament right now.”

“Let’s go!”

Thankfully, you’d taken heed of Mark’s advice to bring extra water. With the amount you were sweating, you would’ve been dehydrated less than an hour in if you weren’t constantly replenishing the lost fluids. It wasn’t an incredibly strenuous or difficult hike. Not a casual stroll, but you were managing. It was just that it was so hot and humid now that you were in the more confined landscape of the trees, you couldn’t tell if more of the moisture was your own sweat or the water hanging in the air and clinging to your skin as you continued through it.

Jeno kept you plenty entertained with stories of his previous (mis)adventures, almost all of which were solo. There were a couple times that he brought along others, but they didn’t go great. One unfortunate happenstance was when he’d dragged Eunseok out white water rafting with him and the poor guy fell out of the raft into freezing cold water. According to Jeno, his PA almost quit right on the spot. Another time, the other VIP lounge members had joined him as a celebration trip after Renjun hit 10 million subscribers. They ran out of water on the second day, Chenle ended up spraining his ankle, and they were ready to commit mutiny before the 48-hour mark, so the trip was concluded early.

“Jeno, it sounds like the people who go exploring with you don’t have a great track record of enjoying themselves,” you pointed out, taking another swig of water.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Y/N?” He countered.

Looking around, you could just make out a peek of blue ocean through the trees, and looking ahead of you, the two of you were more than halfway to the top.

“Yeah, I am. So far. There’s still time for me to sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river.”

He shook his head affectionately at your teasing, “Careful, you’re going to jinx yourself.”

“Old hiking superstition? If you talk about spraining your ankle you will?”

“No, but still. My own little superstition, I guess.”

“Got it. Then I’ll un-jinx myself: I will not sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river on this trip,” you announced loudly to the surrounding forest, earning another fond smile from Jeno accompanied by a soft chuckle.

“There you go.”

“Another five minutes or so and we’ll be at the peak!” Jeno yelled back over his shoulder to you excitedly.

You were a few steps behind him, your legs had been complaining for the greater part of the last thirty minutes. But with this information, you felt reinvigorated, having the end so close bringing a new spark of energy to your tired limbs. You caught up to him, sharing the trail at the wider parts and staying just behind him at the narrower parts.

Finally, you were at the top. And you knew because the trees opened up to a clearing, the leaves and branches giving way to the most incredible sights you could’ve imagined.

“Wow,” you breathed out, turning to get the full view.

From here you could see the whole little town below you, other nearby islands, the forest you had just hiked through, and the vast, glistening blue sea surrounding you. The sun bounced off of the water at the perfect angle to make it look like it was made of diamonds. It was breathtaking. Not to mention that now that you were out of the humid forest, you could once again feel the cool breeze across your heated skin.

A pod of dolphins surfaced briefly, their fins dipping up and down between the calm waves.

“Jeno, dolphins!” You pointed them out to him eagerly, instinctually clutching his arm in excitement. “Did you know that dolphins in the Amazon River are pink because of repeated skin abrasion, and that the males are pinker because they have a lot more interspecies aggression?”

“I think my guide told me something like that, but I was too focused on getting my paddle back from one to really listen to him.”

You turned to him with wide eyes. “You’ve seen them?”

“Yeah, I went to the Amazon last summer. I had to wrestle my paddle back from a rather playful one,” he shrugged, as if it was just a casual little day trip or something. “So you really like dolphins?”

“I did a report for school when I was like 11, some of the info just stuck.”

As you kept watching the dolphins, a smaller one popped up in the middle of the pod. “Oh! A baby! It’s so cute!”

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed with you.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “You can’t tell it’s a girl from here!”

Then you looked over at him, realizing that his focus wasn’t on the dolphins, but on you. Mumbling something about professionalism, you let go of his arm, clasping your hands in front of you as you awkwardly looked back out to the sea.

With a victorious smirk on his face—probably enjoying the fact that he was able to fluster you—Jeno took a few steps away from you, yanking his knapsack off his back and grabbing a blanket from it, “Time for a late lunch.”

He laid the blanket out on a flatter part of the terrain, then brought out a small assortment of foods. You sat down with him, eager to dig into the food. With how much your legs hurt from hiking up here, you hadn’t realized that you were starving until he mentioned lunch. Your stomach growled angrily, and you just hoped it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.

Jeno had packed a very nice lunch for you to share. For the most part, you two were quiet, mouths full of food and eyes still drinking in the stunning view of where you were. You turned your phone on to snap a few pictures before shutting it off again. With no charging ports out here, you had to conserve the battery until you were back in the hotel.

“Do you know which island that is?” You asked Jeno, pointing to the one that seemed the closest to you.

“Nope.”

“That one?” You pointed to a different one.

“Nope.”

“This one?” You teasingly pointed at the ground you were sitting on.

Jeno raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Right as you had opened your mouth to say something smartassy back, you pursed your lips in defeat. “Uh, nope.”

He chuckled, capping his water and starting to put the trash and leftover food back into his bag. You followed his lead, standing when he did so he could pack the blanket back up too. Stretching, a few satisfying cracks came from your back, letting go of the tension that had built up from your sitting position that probably wasn’t great for your spine.

“We should head down to the campsite soon,” Jeno informed you quietly as you had gone back to watching the ocean.

He’d told you while you were still at the base that you wouldn’t be camping at the peak, but at another area a little further down the mountain that was a lot safer for sleeping on. You wished you could’ve stayed up here for the rest of your life.

“Can’t we stay and watch the sunset?” Your voice was nearly a soft whine as you resisted leaving so soon. “It’s got to be incredible from up here.”

“I’m sure it is,” he sounded very reluctant to be telling you this. “But we have to set up camp before it gets too dark.”

“A couple more minutes?”

“Yeah, of course.”

After being rather useless in helping Jeno set up your campsite—not for any chivalrous reasons on his part, you were truly just inept at things and did more harm than good when you tried to help—you sat outside the tent with him. The two of you were going to be sharing a tent, which he had asked earlier if that would be okay. You told him it was fine with you.

The blanket previously used for lunch earlier was under the two of you as you sat just outside the tent. The site Jeno had chosen as your campsite was in a rare area where the foliage wasn’t too thick, and you could just make out some of the ocean as the sun set. It wasn’t the picture-perfect sunset you imagined could be seen from the peak, but it was still pretty.

You continued with your interview questions as you looked out towards the water, scrawling down his answers in the fading light. You couldn’t quite see what you were writing, hoping you didn’t just make a bunch of illegible scribbles instead of notes. He spoke again of his trip to the Amazon, saying how he’d like to go back again sometime, and maybe have a better look at the pink river dolphins. The way he said it fostered some implications, a thought in your mid that maybe you could go with him if he did go back. That was a nice thought. And impractical one, but it gave you warm fuzzies nonetheless.

“So, why do you think you like exploring so much?” You asked him after hearing so many stories of all the destinations he’d gone to.

“Who doesn’t like to travel?”

“What you do… it’s not just travelling, it’s not just a vacation. You’re not booked up in five stars hotels in city centers or doing every tacky tourist thing out there. You get at the heart of where you are, you explore it, you don’t just visit it. Why is that?”

“That’s a rather deep question,” he let out a light chuckle, shifting to face you as he closed his eyes, taking a moment to think. “I guess… like you said, I try to get at the heart of the place, not the surface-level stuff everyone else sees. I’ve always had a sort of wanderlust in me. When I was about twelve, I damn near gave my mom a heart attack because I got on a train and wanted to see where it went and ended up fifty miles from home. And now, I don’t know, I guess the stuff everybody else does doesn’t really interest me… the picture that’s painted to tourists of a place isn’t what it actually is, and I want to find out what is. If that makes sense. Did that make sense?”

You swallowed hard, nodding fervently. “Yeah, it did. I completely understand, yeah.”

That’s how he saw the world, and it was beautiful. And maybe you could see it like him; maybe you could look past the picture that’s painted and what everyone else sees to get at the heart.

Up this high, cold started setting in some time long after the sun had finished setting and darkness was all around you, save for the soft glow of the lantern Jeno had going. The temperature wouldn’t drop terribly, but it was cooler than it was during the day, encouraging you to tuck your chilly fingers into the inside of your knees for some warmth.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno frowned, standing up and stepping over to the tent. “I forgot to tell you to bring a jacket, didn’t I?”

“I’m alright, Jeno,” you assured him, but his arm popped back out of the tent holding a couple pieces of clothing.

It was two sweaters, one he offered out to you, the other presumably for himself. You didn’t refuse, which maybe you really should have for professionalism’s sake. Slipping the hoodie over your head then sticking your arms in, you were immediately swallowed up by it. Sure, Jeno was pretty buff, but you were sure this would be oversized even on him.

You didn’t even have to try to pull the sleeves over your hands, sweater paws already there as soon as you’d put it on. Which wasn’t ideal if you wanted to keep writing stuff down for the article.

“I would’ve told you that I’m a human space heater, but I figured this was a little more professional,” he said, heavy implications there.

Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach as you took it upon yourself to scoot closer to him until your legs and sides were touching, “This is still professional, just two professionals huddling together for warmth.”

“Yeah.”

You were trying to convince yourself more than you were him, knowing that you couldn’t really fool yourself on this one. But damn, you could pretend you did.

It was pretty soon after he’d gotten sweaters for the two of you that Jeno interjected into your conversation, “So when is the article technically over? When you’re done writing it? When your boss okays it? When it’s compiled with the other articles in that issue of the journal? When the copies hit the shelves and its uploaded to the website?”

You let out a shallow breath, knowing what he was really asking. When can the two of you date?

The part of you that was saying ‘never!’ was getting smaller and smaller, and the part of you who just wanted it to be right now was growing bigger and bigger. And yet, for some reason, you were still listening to the little one.

“I don’t know, probably when it’s officially published. You know, when ‘the copies hit the shelves and it’s uploaded to the website.’”

“When do you think that will be?”

“The first one is being published in this month’s issue. So, depending on how fast I get this one written up and proofed, at the earliest next month.”

“And the latest?”

“A couple months. I’m not sure how long Ms. Zhang will want between the two, if she wants to leave the audience in suspense for longer or give them the next part as soon as possible. Probably the first one, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh,” Jeno’s pout that you could see illuminated from the lantern was suddenly split into a wide yawn. “We should go to sleep, we’ve got the climb back down tomorrow.”

You were glad that he had brought it up first. After all, you were pretty tired, but you weren’t about to be the one to end the nice time you were having. Nodding, you stood, taking the lantern in your hand as Jeno folded the blanket back up.

Ducking into the tent, you immediately plopped down onto your sleeping bag, giving Jeno as much room as possible to maneuver his limbs around as he zipped the tent up behind him and set his stuff down in the corner. You put the lantern down at your feet, keeping the area illuminated as you climbed into your sleeping bag and started settling in for the night.

With the covers pulled up to your shoulders and Jeno’s hoodie bunching around your face in a comfortably warm way, you were pretty content to fall asleep then and there. But the light was still on.

Groaning, you looked down towards your feet, glaring at the lantern you knew you’d have to get un-comfy to turn off. Jeno had a small smile on his face as he sat up, “I’ll get it. You ready to turn it off?”

You nodded, your ‘yes’ muffled by the hoodie.

The last thing you saw before complete darkness was Jeno’s soft grin. That was a rather nice image to have in your mind as you drifted off to sleep.

Eyes fluttering awake, the first thing you were aware of was that you were warm. Very warm. Way too warm. One might say that you were currently in a pool of your own sweat. You’d have to wash this hoodie before giving it back to Jeno, it was definitely disgusting.

Speaking of Jeno, he wasn’t in the tent with you, which you noticed as you peeled the somewhat damp sweater off yourself. You took the opportunity to apply some more deodorant and change your short sleeve shirt before shoving your feet back into your shoes. You headed out of the tent, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you did so.

The very last traces of the sunrise were still in the sky from the little that you could see, but it was definitely morning. Looking around, you spotted Jeno standing a little further away from the tent, holding his hand out towards a lower-hanging branch. You wouldn’t have quite been able to reach it yourself, but he could. Perched atop the branch was a bright blue bird, eating right out of his hand. Your eyes widened just a little at this, though you were too tired to be terribly surprised.

Watching him feed the bird for a little longer, you felt your chest swell. His hair was messy, not having fixed his bedhead yet; a peaceful hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; his big, round, eyes watched the bird eat with a certain simple happiness that for some reason had tears threatening to well up in your own.

You opened your mouth to call out to him, but instead a hoarse croak came out, one that made the bird take off in a flurry of blue feathers and fear. Jeno’s head whipped around to look at the source of the noise, you, and a bright grin came to his features.

“Morning, Y/N,” his voice was even deeper from sleep as he greeted you. He didn’t even seem mad that you’d scared off the bird.

As he approached you, the swell in your chest continued to the point where it hurt, and your vision started going blurry from the tears building up. Jeno’s expression changed to one of concern as he seemed to notice your moist eyes the closer that he got.

“Wh—”

You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?

With your hands gripping at his shirt to bring his mouth down to yours, you kissed him like you’d been sick for your whole life and his lips were the cure. All the voices in your head finally shut up, your chest decompressed, and a single tear ran down your face.

He immediately kissed you back, but his hands seemed unsure of what to do, gingerly resting on your arms, featherlight as they hovered there. As if he was afraid that he’d break you, despite the force with which you had crashed your mouth to his.

When you let yourself come back down—and also breathe—you loosened your grip on Jeno’s shirt, releasing him from the slightly hunched position he had been in. Slowly, you brought one of your hands down to wipe away the lone tear.

Jeno was looking at you with a tilted head. “Well, that wasn’t very professional.”

A strangled chuckle escaped your mouth as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Yeah, sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” he said softly, a gentle hand coming to cup your cheek, urging you to look back up at him. And when you did, he lightly brushed his lips against yours. A tender ghost of a kiss, one that didn’t last long as Jeno ended it almost as soon as he’d started it.

Opening your eyes, you saw a nearly silly grin spread across his face, precious giggles bubbling up. His smile was contagious, one gracing your mouth as well.

“Is this going to ruin the integrity of your article?” He asked, still smiling down at you. “If you want this to be a thing, of course.”

“I do, I do,” you nodded fervently, a great weight lifted off your soul now that you let yourself admit that. “I’ll tell Ms. Zhang and see what she wants to do about the articles. Until then, we’ve got to lay low.”

“Movie nights,” he immediately surmised.

Quite liking the idea, you agreed, “Yeah, movie nights.”

The doors opened to the VIP lounge, where you had agreed to meet Jeno after your meeting with your boss. It was almost two weeks after you’d returned from what NingNing was now definitely referring to as your ‘romantic getaway,’ which you couldn’t argue. Most of those two weeks was spent by you finalizing your second article, not wanting to tell Ms. Zhang about how that trip had really gone until after you had work to show for it.

Jeno was waiting for you, already standing up and pacing the small room nervously. He seemed more worried about this than you were, despite it really being your career on the line and not his.

You made a beeline to wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest, and he immediately reciprocated it, holding you closely and pecking the crown of your head.

“Hey, how’d it go?” His gentle tone of voice betrayed his assumptions that it was bad.

Bringing your face out of his chest in order to look up at him, you squealed, “She’s still going to publish them!”

“Ah!” He cried out, tightening his grip on you until it was practically bone-crushing. “I knew it! I knew you were just so good she would have to publish your articles.”

You elaborated, practically buzzing with excitement, “Because I kept out the uh, more private details of the trip and focused on you and the trip itself, she says that it ties up the loose end from the first one nicely. Although, she did recommend not going public until after the second article was out.”

“But you won’t get fired if we don’t abide by that recommendation, right?”

“No, I won’t,” you reassured him, happiness fluttering in your chest as he pecked your forehead.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, letting him peck your lips too before you spoke up. “I do think she’s right, though, we should wait a while to go out in public as a couple.”

Jeno clearly didn’t like that idea, sighing in reply, “Why?”

“It’s been less than a month, what if you decide you don’t like me?”

It was meant to be a joke, but he took it seriously, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then finally your mouth, “Impossible.”

After a moment, he relented, “Alright. I waited two months, another one or so shouldn’t be that bad.”

“Actually, she’s publishing the second article in a special edition that’ll come out two weeks after the first, not a month.”

“I can wait three weeks.”

And wait three weeks he did. Three weeks exactly. Twenty-one days after your conversation in the VIP lounge, two days after your second article hit the shelves, Jeno picked you up for your first public date. This time, you let him come up and get you—your roommate wasn’t home to bother you—and he left his hat and face mask at home.

“Hi Jeno,” you greeted him as you opened the door.

“Hi, baby,” he replied, wasting no time in lacing your fingers together as you walked to the elevator.

As soon as you stepped foot out of your apartment building, whatever resolve he had broke down, and he smooched your cheek loudly. You giggled at the gesture, squeezing his hand to let him know that you were okay with it. After all, you’d made the poor guy wait longer than he should have, some PDA was in order.

The date was at a small café a few blocks over, within walking distance. Which you were sure Jeno appreciated, having a longer time to be out in public with you, never once letting go of your hand or without physical contact with you. He had to let everybody know that you were dating, and you didn’t mind. You liked that he was so ecstatic to be dating you.

At the café, you ordered up at a front counter, and the cashier asked, “Together or separate?”

“Together!” Jeno replied brightly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You leaned over to murmur to him, “She means, are we paying together or separate?”

“Together!” He repeated.

Squinting up at him for a moment, you didn’t argue it, letting him take the check for both of you. Although you did take a few crumpled bills out of your wallet to drop into the tip jar. After getting your food, you eagerly dug in, a light and amicable conversation had between bites.

“So you really waited exactly three weeks, huh?” You teased him.

“The second article came out two days ago, I think that’s plenty of time for everyone to read it,” he defended himself.

“It took you five days to read it.”

He seemed about ready to quip something back when a muffled chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a brief glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.

Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. This situation was eerily familiar, déjà vu washing over you.

But this time, you were kind of glad that he had left his mask and hat at home, and that he’d chosen a table by the window.

Because your heart soared as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly, but also a cute, sweet, funny guy named Lee Jeno.

You could do that. You could subject yourself to that. It would be fine as long as you had Jeno with you.

With the girls still watching the two of you, you reached a hand out across the table towards him. Thankfully, he took your lead, picking it up before pressing a few tender kisses to your fingers. Hopefully the girls got the message that this was romantic and private, and nothing else.

A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life.

“Jeno?” You called for his attention, ignoring the gaggle of fans outside the window.

“Yes?” He focused on you, squeezing your hand.

“I have a question…”

“I thought the interview was over,” he pouted teasingly.

“It is, I swear.” You lifted your linked hands pointedly. “I just… There’s something that’s kind of been nagging at me, about the interview.”

“Ask away.”

“Why me? Like, I remember at our first interview session, you thought I was just going to ask you all the normal stuff about celebrity crushes and stuff.”

“You remember what I said, about my parents’ shop? How I used to help out there?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“When NingNing brought you to the lounge, and you said that thing about you being a normal person, and me being a supermodel, and how you weren’t comfortable around me because of that, it really hit me. I-I really hated that.”

“Jeno, I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s not your fault,” he insisted. “It’s nobody’s fault, that’s just how it is, how our culture is, or whatever. But I hated that you felt like that around me. Because I didn’t use to be like that. I used to be a normal person, too. And I just thought that if you and I had met a few years ago, when I was working in my parents’ shop or something, I could’ve talked to you like a normal guy, and I would’ve been able to put you at ease and flirt with you like a normal person. Instead of having to do it in the most roundabout way like I did this time.”

You grinned. “Oh, I don’t know, you would’ve still been a stupidly attractive register boy, Jeno. I might’ve been a bit tongue-tied if we had met back then, too.”

“I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

“I guess not,” you clicked your tongue. “Though that would’ve been an even better meet-cute than me saying you looked like a dog.”

“Oh, so we’re not telling that story to our kids?”

“Kids?!” You sputtered out. “When did kids enter the equation here, Lee Jeno?”

“What? Who said that?” He blinked at you innocently.

“At least say the L-word first, jeez.”

“I love you.”

“Christ, I was joking!”

“I wasn’t!”

You shook your head, unable to fight off the smitten grin on your lips. “I love you too, Jeno. You crazy son of a bitch.”

⤷ blog masterlist

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Synopsis: Tabito Karasu has been in love with you for almost as long as he can remember. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like you have any intentions of reciprocating, considering you’ve only ever seen him as a child — and, more importantly, as your best friend’s little brother.

BLLK Masterlist | Part One | Otoya Version

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Total Word Count: 41.6k

Content Warnings: reader is older than karasu (by like two years so it’s nbd but it exists), no blue lock au, bratty baby karasu, jealous karasu, slow burn, childhood friends, i have no idea how to write kids just deal w it, karasu’s older sister is given a name (look at that word count LMAO i’m not calling her ‘karasu’s older sister’ the entire time), reader gets drunk at one point, karasu the goat of pining, yukimiya and otoya mentions ⁉️

A/N: yes this is inspired by the song “best friend’s brother” from victorious but has barely anything to do with it. yes this is probably the longest karasu fic you will ever read as of its publishing date (word count is not a typo it fr is that long). yes reader and karasu are fuck ass little kids for half of the fic. i have nothing to say for myself except that i love karasu so much and i cannot be stopped…also tumblr is an opp so i had to split this into two parts EEK i’m sorry!!

Tokyo was exactly as you remembered it. Both of your parents had been raised there, and so you had visited frequently when you were younger. You had fond memories of staying there with both sets of your grandparents before they had all, in turn, decided to move to calmer parts of the country, places which were not as frenetic and vibrant as the capital. After they had left, your family had had little reason to go back, so it had been some years since you had last made the trip, but in a way this move was just another kind of homecoming, for the chaos of the massive city was as familiar to you as the peace of your neighborhood.

“Everyone here talks like your parents,” Yayoi told you, the first day you both were able to meet up after you had moved. Your classes had not yet begun, but you were both finally unpacked and oriented in your new lives, so you had taken advantage of the last bits of free time you might have for a while to see one another. “It’s kind of funny.”

“Right?” you said. You had never fully adopted the accent of your home region, for you had been raised by a family which still spoke as if they were in Tokyo, but regardless it was strange to hear people other than your parents speaking in that way without affectation.

“Sometimes I end up saying the wrong thing and confusing people, but they figure out pretty quickly that it’s just the dialect I speak with, and then they ask for clarification if needed,” she said. “So I haven’t run into any major miscommunication problems yet, thankfully.”

“That’s good,” you said. “Are you excited to start classes?”

“Well, excited isn't exactly the word I’d use for it,” she said wryly. “Even if I’m the one who chose the subject, it’s still going to be a lot of work.”

“A ton of it,” you said, making a face. “You’re lucky, though. Your term doesn’t start for another week.”

“Well, it also ends a week later, so that doesn’t mean anything,” she said, sipping on the last few drops of her coffee — which she always ordered black, not because she liked it that way but because she was trying to keep up appearances and whatnot. “What about you?”

“I think classes and all will be a good distraction. It’ll be nice to have something to keep myself busy,” you said.

“What do you need to be distracted from?” she said.

“Just homesickness and stuff. The typical things you’d expect,” you said. She hummed sympathetically.

“I get it,” she said. “I miss my parents like crazy sometimes, especially when I need help with random stuff. The other day, I had to video call my mother so she could explain how to clean a cast iron pan.”

“You could’ve looked that up,” you said.

“Yeah, but it was nicer to hear it from her,” she said.

“Yeah,” you echoed, because it was the same for you. You often found yourself calling your parents for no reason at all, asking them stupid questions just to listen to them talk. “I’m glad to be on my own, but I do miss my mother and father a lot.”

“Anyone else?” she said.

“What do you mean?” you said.

“Just wondering,” she said. “You know, come to think of it, you were kind of late coming to your seat. Freaked your parents out beyond belief. Any reason in particular?”

“I was just talking to Tabito,” you said. “Saying bye and all.”

“Are you going to miss him?” she prodded.

“Obviously. At this point, he’s like my brother, too. Isn’t it natural to miss your siblings?” you said.

“I don’t,” she said, though she immediately burst into laughter, which somewhat contradicted the statement.

“You’re horrible,” you said. “I know you do.”

“I do,” she affirmed. “But I think it’s in a different way than you do. It’s odd, because I’m the one who’s actually related to him, but the truth is that you two have always been closer than he and I ever were.”

“Probably because I’m not a jerk like you are,” you said.

“How can you consider yourself his additional older sister when you’re so nice to him? You need to bully him a bit more to earn that distinction,” she said.

“He hears enough of it out of you,” you said.

“Cheers, I’ll drink to that,” she said, holding up her paper cup and raising it to her lips, though you knew it was empty by now. You clinked your own against hers and finished the last remnants of your drink in one gulp. “You know, Y/N, I think you’re irreplaceable at this point.”

“You, too,” you said. “I’ll never be friends with anyone the way I am with you.”

“Fuck whoever we meet in college,” she said, nodding in approval. “I’m sure they’ll be cool and all, but the two of us, we hardly even count as friends anymore. It’s like we’re something more.”

“Exactly,” you said. “I can have a million more best friends, and likely I will, but never again will I have another Yayoi Karasu.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she said.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you said. “Not for a moment.”

Your first year of college flew past in the blink of an eye. On the whole, you preferred it to high school, even though there were aspects of the past you still held dear, seeped with nostalgia as they were. You made new friends, as did Yayoi, but just like you both had predicted, none of them measured up to each other. Still, it was fun to meet people from all different regions in the country and to hear about their lives. Some of your classmates weren’t even from Japan at all, and there was another layer of fascination there, learning about the ways of other nations, the cultures and foods they were accustomed to, and teaching them about your own in exchange.

Your mid term breaks were a bit shorter than Yayoi’s, which meant you weren’t ever able to justify visiting home, but in return, you had much longer in between years, so while Yayoi was still stressing over her finals, you were already taking the train back to the station by your house, texting your parents all the while.

In your absence, your childhood room had remained untouched, the stuffed animals arranged on your bed in the exact order you preferred, the books still stacked on the shelves, your artwork and photos of you with your friends hanging on the walls where you had put them. Time felt frozen, and it was as if you had never left, as if your entire year in Tokyo had been a dream and this had always been the reality.

After eating dinner with your parents, you showered and changed into one of your father’s old shirts and a pair of sweatpants, flopping face-first onto your bed and taking a deep breath, already feeling yourself nodding off despite the fact that it wasn’t that late. Traveling always exhausted you, however, and it was all you could do to turn your lights off and crawl under the covers, plugging your phone in to charge as you drifted off.

Right when you were about to fall asleep for good, your phone’s screen blazed to life, startling you awake as it vibrated urgently. Groaning and cursing whoever was calling you, you glared at the device until you realized exactly who it was, and then your unhappiness was promptly replaced with glee as you clicked on the green answer button.

“Tabito!” you said. Although you had texted with him every now and then, you were ashamed to admit that you hadn’t spoken to him as much as you should’ve. You reasoned that he had had equal opportunity to reach out first and hadn’t, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was a feeble excuse that was only meant to deflect the blame from yourself and nothing more.

“Y/N,” he said. His voice was deeper than you remembered, and more resonant, too, lilting with a husky, full-bodied musicality that hadn’t been there when you had left. “Hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassured him. “What’s up?”

“Do you remember — sorry, this is really stupid, so don’t feel bad for saying no,” he said.

“It’s okay. I’ve definitely seen you do way stupider things,” you said. He chuckled.

“You’re probably right. Here goes, then. Um, do you remember when you went to my first soccer game in middle school, and afterwards, we agreed you wouldn’t come to another until I was the captain of a really good high school team?” he said.

“I think so, why?” you said. A second later, it hit you, and you gasped, beaming so widely that your face ached. “No way! For Bambi Osaka? Since when?”

“Yup, for Bambi Osaka. The old captain just graduated, and he named me as his replacement today, so, uh, since today, I guess,” he said.

“I wish you would’ve told me in person so you could see how much I’m smiling right now,” you said. “Congratulations, Tabito! You can’t begin to know how proud I am of you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Anyways, our first game is this Thursday, so…”

“Huh? Did you want me to come?” you said. “Yayoi won’t be back from Tokyo by then, though. Shouldn’t I wait for her?”

“If you’d prefer that,” he said. “Or, I mean, you don’t have to go at all. I was just offering in case you were interested, but no hard feelings if not.”

Since when had he been so awkward with you? Since when had he stumbled over his words and been so unsure? You frowned at the mere chance that there was more than a physical distance between the two of you, even if it probably was the case, despite how much you had never wanted such an event to occur.

“As long as you want me, I’ll be there. I don’t have much else to do anyways, right? And how could I miss your first game as captain? Let me know where and when, and I’ll definitely come,” you said. He exhaled softly.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I want you there. I’ll let you know the details, but like I said, no pressure. Don’t force yourself. Come if you can.”

It was springtime, and the world was still remembering how to come alive, peeking out its head from the den of winter and blinking its sleepy eyes against the sun. There were not any flowers in bloom quite yet, but as far as the eye could see were buds on the precipice of rupturing, the pale undersides of their petals mere imitations of the hues they’d soon display proudly. The birds still warmed eggs in nests made of twigs and twine, but already there were cracks in a few of the creamy shells; here and there, even, little yellow beaks could be seen reaching towards the sky and chittering incessant demands at their parents.

You were lazy as you pedaled your bike down the side streets leading towards the field where the match was being held. It was an away game, technically, but this worked out better for you, as the high school they were playing at was closer to your house than the Bambi Osaka stadium, which was far enough that you would’ve needed to take a taxi.

According to Tabito, the game was actually more of a scrimmage, as they were playing a local school’s soccer club instead of another organization’s youth team, as they did in serious matches. Apparently, this was by design, as it gave their coach the opportunity to test Tabito's skills at being a captain in a low-stakes, low-pressure environment. If he proved himself incapable, the coach would override the previous captain’s pick and name another member of the team to the position, but if he played as well as he always did, and managed to coordinate the rest of the players in a satisfactory manner, then he’d be given the position permanently.

You had reminded him that this meant he technically wasn’t the captain yet, but to this he had said that he had the title and the armband, and if anything, since that was the situation, he needed you there more than ever. After all, he had explained, you had been in the audience when he had scored the winning goal in his first game for his middle school’s team. You were good luck for him. If you were in the crowd, then there was no way he could lose.

Parking your bike in the lot alongside the others, you locked it and then made your way towards the entrance to the stadium, the ticket Tabito had sent you in between your index and middle fingers. Even though there wouldn’t be very many people attending this game, it was Bambi Osaka’s policy to require tickets for entry to any of their matches, and the price if you weren’t associated with a player was, you heard, quite hefty.

You sat by yourself in the stands, your purse beside you and your legs crossed at the ankles. You couldn’t explain why, but there was a doubt in the back of your mind about whether you even belonged in the audience at all. Without Yayoi at your side, it felt like there was a neon sign in the air pointing at you and declaring you inept and unwelcome. Everyone else was buzzing with theories and predictions for the upcoming game, tossing out the names of the players and their opinions on them, but you were by yourself, without even a drink to warm your hands.

The gray of that isolation evaporated the moment that the Bambi Osaka boys took to the field, led by none other than Tabito. You were suddenly reminded that you weren’t just allowed to be there — you were wanted, genuinely wanted, and so you had as much if not more of a claim to your seat than anyone else could. Tabito had invited you. He could’ve invited anyone else in the entire city, but still he had invited you, and you would not tarnish that by thinking you were alone when he was there, as he always was.

As was to be expected, there was a complete difference to the way Tabito played when compared to that very first game of his which you had watched. For one, he was at the front of the field instead of in the middle, and there was an impertinence to the way he shook the hand of the opposing captain, an audacious smirk on his face which was visible even from the distance. This was a side of Tabito you weren’t so acquainted with, a side which was brazen and self-assured and stood as if he had already won before the referee even blew the whistle to begin.

The game moved faster than you could keep up with, and without Yayoi there to give you a play-by-play, you found yourself utterly lost about the finer details of the match. Still, even you could tell that Bambi Osaka was in the lead, and by no small margin — largely in part thanks to the combined skills of Tabito and a slender, pale-haired boy whose jersey read Hiori.

When Tabito was younger, there had been a desperate, vicious quality to his soccer, as if he really might die should he lose. It was in direct contrast to now, where he toyed with the opposite team in much the same way a cat would toy with a ball of yarn — with a distinct sense of superiority, like he was looking down on them even as he forced his way past, not giving them any other choice but to watch as he drove his way down the field.

“Is number 10 the new captain?” a boy behind you said. He sounded younger; maybe he had an older brother on one of the teams, or maybe he was just that supportive of Bambi Osaka. You didn’t turn, but you did tune into the conversation, wondering what they’d say about Tabito.

“Karasu? Yes, he is,” a slightly older boy said. “My brother said he’s a real asshole, but he’s a great guy when it counts. They’re all happy he’s the one who was recommended for the spot.”

“He’s so good,” the younger boy said. “And Hiori, as well. They’re both amazing.”

“Hiori’s only a first year, too. I bet he’s going to go far,” the older boy said. “Now shush, quit distracting me. I’m trying to watch the game.”

To no one’s surprise, Bambi Osaka won by a ridiculous amount of goals, and as Tabito shook hands with the school’s captain again, you noticed their coach nodding in approval, annotating something on his clipboard with a satisfied smile on his face. You waited until all of them had vanished into the locker rooms to head to the exit and wait by your bike for Tabito to join you.

About twenty minutes later, he and the rest of the team trickled out, discussing their game and the plans for the next one. At first it seemed like he had not noticed you, absorbed in conversation as he was, but it quickly became evident that he had, for he skillfully guided the others towards where you stood, never faltering in words nor steps until he reached you. Then he paused, schooling his expression into one of shock, his eyebrows raising and his lips parting as if he had happened upon you entirely by accident. It was an amusing bit of theatrics, albeit realistic to anyone who did not know his mannerisms as well as you did.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, all composed and airy and dispassionate, as if it were mere coincidence that the two of you had met at that moment, as if it hardly mattered to him that you were there. It might’ve fooled another person, but not once in his life had he been able to fool you, and he certainly wouldn’t start today.

He must’ve showered in the locker rooms, for his hair fell loose and silky around his face instead of styled back as it typically was, and when you hugged him — which was met a reflexive return of his arms around your body before he could even manage to yelp in surprise — you could smell the faint, pleasant scent of his soap which still clung to his skin.

“Hi,” you said, holding onto him for as long as you deemed publicly appropriate before wriggling free and smiling at him. “I think you did good. Without Yayoi, I couldn’t be sure, but to me you looked great.”

“Eh,” he said. “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been better. But thanks.”

“Woah, Karasu,” one of his teammates said. He was a tall and burly player who reminded you vaguely of Aoyama, and he accompanied the exclamation by wrapping one arm around Tabito in a friendly headlock and using his free hand to ruffle the boy’s damp hair, leaving him to resemble a sea urchin. “You didn’t tell us you had such a beautiful girlfriend! Hello, ma’am, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Get off of me,” Tabito wheezed, slapping his teammate away. “You fuckface, I’m going to kill you. Don’t try to shake her hand!”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you said, accepting his teammate’s proffered hand. “Just best friends with his older sister. You can think of me as a stand-in for her while she’s finishing up her first year in Tokyo. My name’s Y/N, by the way.”

“Ah, you’re that Y/N!” he said.

“I believe I am? What does that mean?” you said.

“Nothing bad,” Tabito cut in. “Yayoi’s come to a few games and mentioned you, so everyone’s been wanting to meet you.”

“It’s true. I mean, a girl who refused to come to a game until and unless Karasu was made captain? We all thought you must be something intense,” his teammate said. “You seem pretty normal, though. And also super hot, if you don’t mind me mentioning.”

“Well, he’s the one who told me not to come, so if anyone’s intense, it’s him,” you said. “And, uh, thanks? I guess?”

“I mind you mentioning, so shut the hell up,” Tabito said, finally breaking free of his teammate’s hold and shoving him away from you. “Sorry about this one, Y/N. He’s incorrigible.”

His teammate laughed raucously. “My fault, my fault. Sorry, Karasu.”

“Say sorry to her,” Tabito said. “She’s the one you were bothering.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. “Really, I don’t mind the compliment. Even if it could’ve been phrased better.”

“Anything for you, gorgeous lady,” his teammate said with a wink. “But, ah, considering I value my life and limbs, I think I’m going to head out now, as our new captain seems about a few seconds away from murdering me. See you around!”

He ran away to rejoin the rest of the Bambi Osaka boys as they all headed in their separate directions towards their homes, leaving you and Tabito alone once more. As soon as they were all gone, he sighed, that put-upon countenance he had maintained for the entirety of the conversation falling apart in an instant.

“I didn’t think he’d say all of that,” he said. “Sorry again.”

“You worry so much,” you said. “Come on, you just won another match, didn’t you? That’s cause to celebrate, so don’t look so tired and mopey.”

“I don’t look tired and mopey!” he defended. “This is just how my face is!”

“Uh-huh, sure,” you said, unlocking your bike and beginning to walk it beside you so you could keep talking to him. “I seem to remember your face being quite a bit rounder and sunnier. Now you’re all angles and doom and gloom.”

“That’s not something I can help,” he said, taking your bike from you so he could walk it instead. “Y/N, you’re being mean. I haven’t seen you in so long and now you’re acting like Yayoi.”

“You think I’m acting like Yayoi? I’m hurt,” you said. “Okay, then, you sensitive captain. How about we go get ice cream? My treat, since you got the position and all.”

“Okay,” he said. “But it’ll be my treat, not yours, because you came to my game and stayed the whole time. It was your good luck that helped me in the end.”

“Offering to pay for me? I suppose I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, so I’ll allow it this time. Anyways, I would’ve had to, because I just realized I left my wallet at home,” you said.

“Almost like you did that on purpose,” he mused, bumping your shoulder with his. “Was that your plan all along? Suggesting we get ice cream but forgetting to bring any money, so I had to cover for us both?”

“I see why your team members think you’re an asshole,” you said. “It’s a surprise, to be sure, but then again, maybe I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Who’s calling me an asshole?” he said. “How did you know that? I’m not! Whoever it is, they were making things up, because I’m — I’m super nice! Seriously, where did you hear that? Stop giggling and answer me!”

You extended your arm to run your fingers through his mussed up hair, smoothing it down as best as you could. “A magician never tells her secrets. Don’t worry about it and just tell me which flavor you’re getting.”

“The same as always, why?” he said.

“I want to decide whether I should steal some of it or not,” you said.

“You don’t have to steal it. I’ll share if you want some,” he said.

“It’s better if I’m doing something wrong. I think it adds to the flavor, or enhances it, or something,” you said. He considered this before nodding with the utmost of gravity.

“If that’s how it is, then you’re absolutely not allowed to even look at my ice cream. I’ll be, uh, super mad if you do,” he said, his glare so fearsome and dark that it skipped the realms of intimidation and landed squarely in the land of comedy.

“You’re the best,” you said.

“I do what I can,” he said. “Will you let me have some of yours?”

“Hm,” you said. “Fine, but only because I love you so much.”

He fought back a smile at that, staring directly ahead, the tendons of his hands flexing on the handlebars of your bike as you continued to walk along the empty sidewalk, the glowing sun in the distance a reminder of the many days exactly like this which you still had left to spend.

The break flew by so quickly it was almost more of a punishment than anything. About as soon as you had gotten settled back into a rhythm of spending your days with the Karasus and your evenings with your parents, it was time for you and Yayoi to return to Tokyo for your second year of college, as well as for Tabito to enter his final year of high school.

You took for granted that you would be back as soon as the first term ended, so when you boarded the train to Tokyo, you didn’t take the time to properly appreciate the place where you had grown up. The city where you had whiled away your idyllic childhood…you had considered it a guarantee that you’d return soon, so why would you linger? But a couple of weeks into your first term, you got news from your parents: your father’s job had, almost out of the blue, transferred him, and so they would be moving to nearby Kawasaki by the end of the month.

There was definitely a pro to having your parents at that distance — they were close enough that you could visit them whenever you wanted to, but far enough that you could justify not going if you were so inclined, and removed enough that your life still belonged to you and only you. Still, it was a little like having a rug pulled out from under you when you weren’t even aware you were standing on a rug in the first place; especially because you could not so much as help in the moving process, given that you were stuck at school and could make no excuse to go back home for such a long time.

The house they found in Kawasaki was in a good area, and though it was smaller than your old one, it was still airy and bright, with large windows and wooden floors and enough bedrooms that you could still have your own despite not living there full-time anymore. Your parents were actually glad for the reduced size, for it meant less emptiness, less cleaning to be done in places that never even got used or looked at.

When you went to visit during the first term break, it seemed like they really were happy there. Or perhaps they were just trying to convince you that this was for the best, that you should not be sad, but if that was so, then they shouldn’t have bothered. You were the one who had left first, who had gone to Tokyo to study and work. Of course it was more abrupt and final than you had wanted, but hadn’t this day always been looming on the horizon? Eventually, you would’ve stopped visiting so frequently, if at all. There was no reason to mourn the occurrence of an inevitability.

Besides the drama of your parents’ move, your second year was uneventful. You made even more friends than you had in your first year, and you still saw Yayoi as much as you could, although it was more difficult for the time being. Luckily, at this point you two had the kind of friendship wherein you picked up as if you had never been apart whenever you reunited, so you at least had that one constant in what sometimes felt like an ever-shifting life.

Around the time that your finals began, you received a text from Tabito, written in a formal language that was nothing like the messages full of abbreviations and emoticons that he generally sent you.

‘Hi, Y/N. I hope you’re doing well, and that your second year in university didn’t give you too much difficulty. I’m just reaching out to let you know that my graduation is next Friday. The ceremony starts at 6:30 in the evening, and I managed to reserve you a spot. The address and information is on the ticket — if you’re able to come, then I’d really appreciate it, but if not, then that’s totally okay. I just thought I should let you know.’

You stared at your phone, a sinking feeling in your stomach. No matter how much you wanted to go, you couldn’t. There were too many factors against it, and you felt horrible as you typed out your response. Any way you went about it came across as too harsh, but then again, was there even a gentle way to reject someone when they had come to you with something so important?

‘tabito!! i can’t believe you’re graduating already, wow!! i really would like to come, but i have a final that friday in the afternoon :( plus i don’t know if you heard or not but my family moved to kawasaki, so i wouldn’t really have anywhere to stay. thank you so much for inviting me though!! i’ll get yayoi to bring a cardboard cutout of me to put in my seat or something LOL. it’ll be just like the real thing!!!’

He responded almost immediately, and despite the effort he must’ve made to sound unaffected, he was obviously disappointed by the turn of events, his efforts at cheer only further highlighting that fact.

‘It’s okay, really! And thank you. Haha yes a Y/N cutout will have to be good enough then. Good luck on your final!’

The rest of the week, the unopened file from Tabito, which sat in your email inbox, tantalized you, and you found yourself obsessively checking the schedule of trains leaving Tokyo. There was one back to your hometown that would depart an hour after your exam was scheduled to end, and you refreshed it constantly, waiting to see if tickets would sell out. Once they were gone, it would give you an excuse not to buy them, but to your frustration, they never did.

You would have to run, and even then it wasn’t a guarantee you would make it, to the train or the graduation, but it was the best chance you had, and with every passing moment, it began to sound like more and more of a viable option.

On Thursday evening, when you once again checked the ticket site and noticed there were open seats, you bit your tongue to stop yourself from swearing, and then you entered your credit card information into the prompt. A minute later, you got a confirmation email, letting you know that your seat was booked for the next day. Burying your face in your hands, you inhaled deeply, vowing not to tell Tabito in case he got his hopes up for nothing. Breathing in and out through your nose once more, you straightened your back and opened up your textbook, returning to studying with a renewed vigor borne of the adrenaline rush which resulted from the impulsive decision.

If your professor found it odd that you came to the exam hall in formal clothes, with your hair done and an overnight bag over your shoulder, she did not say anything, only motioning for you to put your bag with the others and then handing you your paper.

Thankfully, you had studied through the year, and this exam was for one of your easier subjects, so it was a relative breeze. You finished with time to spare, leaving the hall with your things and walking to the train station without any worries except for what would happen once you reached your end destination.

The train ride was longer than you remembered, and by the time you were disembarking at the station closest to Tabito’s high school, it was already 6:00. You sprinted through the platform, calling out apologies as you ran into people or elbowed them out of the way, trying to get to the taxi area before anyone else could claim all of the available vehicles.

“Stop!” you shouted when the singular remaining taxi prepared to drive off to a different pick-up location. You must’ve looked a sight, chasing after a taxi by the train station, wearing a dress and heels, stumbling over your feet with your arm outstretched. “Hey, sir! Stop!”

By some miracle, he saw you through the rearview mirror and screeched to a halt. You opened the back door and dove in, scribbling down the address on a slip of paper and handing it to him, as was customary. Then, when he input the address into his GPS and accelerated onto the route, you leaned forward.

“Sir, I’ll tip you generously if you can get me there before 6:30,” you said.

“I will do my best, ma’am. Please hold on,” he said. That was all the warning you got before he stepped on the gas pedal, the car taking off at all but twice the speed of the surrounding traffic, leaving you to hold onto your seat as the scenery outside blurred into nothing but a smear of pinks and greens and browns.

He got you there at 6:27, which was too close for comfort but still earlier than should’ve been humanly possible, so you reached into your wallet and pulled out a wad of cash that was certainly more than you owed. Slapping it on the console, you mumbled out a thank you and ran off without waiting for a response, trying your best to remember the directions to the auditorium from the email Tabito had sent you.

“Do you have a ticket, miss?” the security guard waiting at the door to the auditorium said. You reached into your pocket and tried to unlock your phone; your slick fingers typed in the wrong password twice before it finally opened and you could brandish the file. He squinted at it before nodding and opening the door for you. “The ceremony has already begun, so please try not to make too much of a disturbance when you enter.”

Your shins and the balls of your feet ached from how much ground you had covered in your less-than-supportive footwear and the speed at which you had done so. Your shoulder, too, was sore under the strain of your bag, but you ignored these pains, counting down the rows and the seat numbers until you spotted the empty one that belonged to you. Squeezing past the others who had already taken their places, you collapsed in the cushioned chair, a sigh of relief escaping you when you saw that, though the ceremony was already underway, Tabito was still yet to go.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” Yayoi said absentmindedly, for your seat was naturally beside hers. Then, like she had realized what she had said, her jaw dropped. “Y/N? I thought you couldn’t come!”

“Shh, he’s about to go,” you said. “I’ll explain later.”

If you had hesitated for even a minute at any point, you would’ve missed it, but by the grace of some universal power, you had made it into your seat right as Tabito stepped up to take his diploma. He scanned the crowd, much in the same way he did when he was playing soccer, but sadly instead of sharply, like he was aware that he was about to be disappointed yet knew he had to experience that disappointment first-hand regardless.

His eyes slid over everyone in the audience dismissively, but when they landed upon you, they paused, and though it was too far for you to see, you fancied they must’ve widened the slightest bit. Not enough for anyone else to make anything of it, but enough for you to know.

For an instant, everyone else disappeared. In that auditorium, there was only Tabito on the stage and you in the audience, his diploma slack in his grasp, your breaths still fast and uneven. And although there was a distance, and no small one at that, between you and him, it was as if you were right by his side, as if you could see every single emotion which flickered across his face. Shock. Disbelief. Wonder. Then, finally, a sheer, childish thing which could only be called joy — unabashed and whole and candid joy. He smiled in the way he only did for you, not for anyone else in the entire world, not smug and haughty but shy and sincere, and you could not help but smile as well, raising your hand and waving at him like he always did at you.

He was taken aback, but obviously delighted, and so, as the principal announced his name and read off his accomplishments while with the school, Tabito ignored the praise and the applause, focusing solely on returning your wave with one of his own.

“What are you doing here?” he said, sweeping you into a hug as soon as you had all left the auditorium and he had reunited with his family. “You said you couldn’t come!”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Yayoi said from where she was waiting at your side. “And Tabito, when you’re done showing your clearfavoritism, give me a high-five or something.”

He held onto you for a moment longer before letting go and high-fiving his sister, who was the only one that hadn’t been there for when Mr. and Mrs. Karasu, as well as Tabito and Yayoi’s grandmother, had taken teary eyed photos with him. She had instead stayed with you, telling you that you owed her an explanation and then jumping to another topic of conversation before you could give her one.

“There was a train from Tokyo which left an hour after my exam window ended,” you said. “I know you don’t like surprises, but I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it, so I didn’t want to tell you in advance in case things didn’t work out. As it is, I had to bribe the taxi driver to get me here from the station at highly illegal speeds, and with that, I only made it to the front of the building by 6:27. Honestly, I still can’t believe I got there before you went at all, but I’m so glad I did.”

“Me, too. You’re right that I don’t normally like surprises, but this one, I was really happy about, so it’s an exception,” Tabito said. Now that he was no longer under obligation to hang around with Yayoi, he was back at your side, playing with the zipper of your bag in fascination while you spoke.

“Me, three,” Yayoi said. “He was seriously depressed that you weren’t coming. The house was like a toxic wasteland the entire week. It’s going to be much safer and cleaner now.”

“Toxic wasteland?” you said.

“Yup, and the toxic waste himself is right next to you, so be careful,” she said.

“You’re so dramatic. It wasn’t like that,” Tabito said.

“Sure,” she said. “Yup. Totally wasn’t.”

“Why do you always do this?” he whined.

“Do what?” Yayoi said.

“Try to embarrass me whenever you can!” he said.

“Not like it’s possible for me to embarrass you in front of Y/N out of everyone. You do that all on your own, so there’s no way I can make things worse,” she said.

“Yayoi!” he snapped.

“Onto more pressing subjects,” you interjected before things could worsen. “Um. I do have a slight problem.”

“What is it?” Tabito said.

“I kind of came here on a whim, so I don’t really have anywhere to sleep, exactly,” you said. The siblings exchanged looks before Yayoi rolled her eyes and Tabito grabbed your bag from you.

“You’ll stay with us, of course,” Yayoi said.

“For as long as you want,” Tabito added. “Or as long as you can, actually. That’s better. Don’t leave until you absolutely have to.”

“We can put your bags in the car, and then we have to take pictures,” Yayoi said.

“I didn’t know you cared enough to want to commemorate my graduation,” Tabito said. Yayoi snorted.

“Nah, I just want to commemorate Y/N’s wild journey from Tokyo, and the fact that she magically got here on time. I don’t ever want to forget about that,” she said.

“I’d be offended, but actually, I’m in agreement. I can’t believe you bribed a taxi driver for me,” Tabito said.

“Ah, well, you know,” you said. “I just told him I’d tip him if he could get me there on time, and he did it.”

“You’re crazy,” he said affectionately.

“Totally,” Yayoi agreed.

“And aren’t you grateful for it?” you said, curling your fingers around his wrist and throwing the other arm around Yayoi’s shoulders, causing her to shoot you a mock-dirty look before she made herself comfortable against you.

“Yes,” Tabito said, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks when he lowered them bashfully, that same smile lighting up his face at the sensation of your fingers dancing over his veins. “I really am.”

The world was quite determined not to split you and the Karasus apart for very long. You learned that night that, along with getting into a prestigious college, Tabito had also been selected to join the Japanese U-20 soccer team. In order to balance his academics — he could’ve quit school entirely by this point if he so chose, but he was far too paranoid to not have a second option should his soccer career not take off — with the new demands of the team, he would be living in Tokyo with one of his new teammates, a boy he had never met but was supposedly named something along the lines of Eita Otoya.

His new place was somewhat close to your apartment; close was a subjective word, of course, but to you, when the weather was nice and you were in no rush to be anywhere or do anything, it was a perfectly walkable distance, and you told him you’d definitely show him and Otoya around once they were moved in and had a moment to spare for such a frivolous outing.

Between his practices and the increase in his workload, it seemed like you really might never see Tabito at all, however close you might’ve now been to him physically. Yet somehow, on a warm day at the brink of summer, he texted you asking if the offer was still on the table, and if so, could you please show him and Otoya a place to get good coffee, because the stuff they made with their Keurig machine wasn’t cutting it anymore. You laughed, responding that you’d be delighted to, and that you were free all weekend, with no qualms about dedicating a day solely to them.

Your first impression of Eita Otoya was that, next to Tabito, he had a delicate and pointed appeal to his pretty features. He was smaller than Tabito, and although there wasn’t an ounce of menace in the way he stood, all inviting and open and casual, there was a wolflike canniness to his green irises, which glimmered when he noticed you approaching.

Before Otoya could even say anything, Tabito had covered his mouth with a hand, glaring down at him in a manner which did not seem to entirely be in jest.

“No way,” he said. “Flirt with whoever else you want, but she and Yayoi are off limits.”

Otoya held his hands up in the air, his voice muffled by Tabito’s palm when he spoke. “Got it, dude. Plenty of other fish in the sea, right?”

“For you, yeah,” Tabito said. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Tabito,” you said. “And you must be Otoya? It’s nice to meet you. Tabito’s mentioned you a few times.”

“Hopefully he’s only said good things,” Otoya said, shaking your hand, careful to keep a cordial distance between you two.

“On the contrary, I’ve been led to believe you’re the devil incarnate,” you said.

“Really?” Otoya said.

“No, of course not. He’s only ever spoken highly of you. I was just joking,” you said.

“That’s a relief,” Otoya said. “It’d be awkward if you had a bad impression of me before we’d even met.”

“Did you really think I’d complain about you to her? I’m kind of hurt,” Tabito said.

“Look, you never know! Maybe that’s how you get your aggression out,” Otoya said.

“It’s not. If I had any aggression, I’d just yell at you yourself. I definitely wouldn’t burden her with any of your hypothetical nonsense, not in a million years,” Tabito said.

“Woah, didn’t realize we had a gentleman here,” Otoya said with a snicker. “Okay, then. Thanks for not talking shit about me behind my back.”

“Anytime,” Tabito said.

“Are you two done yet?” you said. “I don’t want the place to close before we get a spot.”

“Is it nearby?” Otoya said. “As long as it’s close, it doesn’t even matter if it’s expensive. I just need something better than those shitty convenience store Keurig packets Tabito’s been getting for us.”

“That’s the best I’ve been able to bring home at the random times you text me telling me we’re out! Sorry I don’t stop by a damn café after every morning practice,” Tabito said.

“This guy,” Otoya said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Doesn’t understand the value of a good coffee one bit.”

“Not everyone has that touch,” you whispered back with a wink. “It’s alright. I won’t let you suffer any longer; the shop I’m taking you to is only a block away, and it’s relatively inexpensive — for the city, anyways. If you don’t know that it’s there, though, it’s easy to miss, so I don’t blame you for not seeing it.”

“My hero!” Otoya said. “Lead the way.”

You had discovered the small café entirely by accident during your first year in Tokyo. It was tucked away between a laundromat and a veterinary office, far from where one would expect a shop of its nature to be located, and although there was were always a couple of patrons scattered throughout the booths and tables, it was never bustling or crowded enough to take away from the cozy atmosphere.

Tabito held the door open for you, and consequently for Otoya, who followed after and inhaled deeply, clasping his hands together in awe.

“This is amazing,” he said. “L/N, you’re like an angel sent from heaven or something. I could fall to my knees and praise you with a sonnet right now, I’m that happy.”

“If you fall to your knees or do anything similarly stupid in front of her, I’ll show you why I made the U-20 team,” Tabito said, raising his leg in the air like he was threatening to kick Otoya.

“He was just joking around, Tabito, it’s not a big deal,” you said. Then, to Otoya: “You’re pretty funny, you know.”

“Thanks,” he said with a grin. “I try my best. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

“Mostly it doesn’t,” Tabito muttered under his breath. “Tell me your order, Y/N, and I’ll get it for you.”

“Oh, thanks!” you said, listing off your favorites from the cafe’s menu for him. He wrote it down on his phone, lines of concentration etched into his brow as he painstakingly typed out the entire order before showing it to you to confirm that it was correct.

“Can you get me their seasonal drink?” Otoya said, sliding into the seat across from you and peering up at Tabito, who was entirely unamused by the act. “That floral-type latte. It sounds sick.”

“Get it yourself,” Tabito said.

“Why? You’re going to be up there, so just order and let me get to know dear Miss L/N here,” Otoya said. Tabito seemed conflicted, but you nodded reassuringly at him.

“Fine, but you — you know the deal,” he said, brandishing his pointer finger at Otoya. “Don’t you dare mess with her.”

“You got it,” Otoya said with a double-thumbs-up.

“I’m sorry. He’s always been like that, but he really does mean well,” you said, gazing after Tabito once he had stomped away to the counter.

“Been like what?” Otoya said. “An asshole? Ah, but I’m only saying it affectionately, so please don’t tell him I called him that, or else you’ll cause problems where there aren’t any.”

“He’s sweet at heart,” you said. “I know how he can seem to other people, especially at first, but I met him when he was four years old, so I guess I never really saw that side of him. He’s never been anything but kind to me. I guess that’s all I’m trying to say.”

“You’ve known Karasu for that long?” Otoya said.

“Yup. Like I said, I’m not denying that he’s abrasive most of the time, but he’s only being so protective because he cares about his sister and I so very much. Please don’t take it personally. He’s just that type of younger sibling,” you said.

“Younger sibling?” Otoya repeated. “That’s how you see him, huh? I get it now. If that’s how things are, then I won’t butt in.”

“That’s how they are,” you said. For some reason, this caused him to laugh at you, but it was pitying and mocking and not a sound you preferred to hear from anyone — most certainly not from a person you had only just met.

“It’s always so complicated in life, huh? That’s why I never really try too hard. Problems get worse the more you think about them,” he said. It hardly counted as an explanation, but for some reason, you were sure that that was all you were going to get out of him. “Oh, shit!”

“What happened?” you said as, abruptly and without warning, he shot to his feet,

“I was supposed to work on a group presentation today,” he said, running a hand through his hair with a groan. “They just texted to confirm that we’re meeting in the library in fifteen minutes.”

“Can you make it on time?” you said. He was already typing the address of his school’s library into his GPS, and the instant it loaded, he nodded at you.

“I’ve got it, but I’m afraid I’ll have to head out right about now, or else this crazy girl in my group will kill me. Tell Karasu I’ll send him the money for my drink, and that he can enjoy it on me,” he said. “Poor guy needs it, I’m pretty sure.”

“It’ll be too sweet for him, but I’ll pass along the message, sure,” you said.

“Now, normally, this would be the part where I’d ask you for your number, but no matter how beautiful you are, I’m not willing to risk my living situation for you,” he said. “Karasu’s pretty cool, as far as roommates go. It could definitely be worse, so I’d really not like to lose him and end up with some weirdo who collects toenail clippings, just for flirting with the one girl that he declared off-limits.”

“His actual sister’s off-limits as well,” you reminded Otoya. “So that’s two.”

“He did say that, didn’t he? But you’re off-limits in a different way, and unless I want to end up like my own older sister, whose first-year roommate built a replica of the Taj Mahal from the hair she collected out of their drain, I’m going to respect that,” he said.

“That’s disgusting,” you said, too busy gagging at the mental image artwork he had just described to even question what else he was talking about. “Well, you should be off to your group project, then. I’m sure I’ll see you around, Otoya, but in case it’s not for a while, I’ll wish you luck with soccer and school now.”

“Thanks. The same to you, and I am eternally in your debt for showing me this place, so if you ever need something, let me know,” he said, scrambling hastily out of the café without bothering to push his chair back under the table.

Tabito returned a few seconds later, setting the tray of your drinks down on the table and taking his spot in the booth at your side. Handing you the cup that belonged to you, he sipped on his own and placed Otoya’s across from himself.

“Where’d Otoya go?” he said.

“He said something about working on a group project and left. Apparently, he’ll send you the money for the drink, and you’re free to do with it as you please,” you said. Tabito wrinkled his nose.

“He always gets such sweet shit. There’s no way I’m going to be able to drink that,” he said.

“That’s what I told him, but what other option is there? We can share so it isn’t wasted,” you said, taking a swig from Otoya’s flowery beverage. It wasn’t bad, and you had a little more before giving it to Tabito.

“Ugh,” he said. “Fine.”

He poked out his tongue, lapping up the tiniest droplet of coffee which lingered on the rim of the cup, and then he made a face, handing it back to you and then gulping down two mouthfuls of his own drink to wash out the taste.

“That bad?” you said.

“Tasted like shit,” he said. “I don’t know how the two of you can drink that kind of stuff regularly without gagging.”

“It’s not my favorite, but it’s not as horrible as you’re making it out to be,” you said.

“I can literally feel my arteries clogging as we speak,” he said.

“Since when did you start speaking like an old man?” you said. “What boy your age talks about his arteries clogging?”

“Firstly, I’m trying to become a professional athlete, so I have to pay careful attention to things like my health, and secondly, we’re not that far apart in age. We have to worry about the same things, like jobs and grades and clogged arteries. Concerns of that nature,” he said.

“I’m glad you feel that way, but why’d you think I was referring to people my own age when I said old man, hm?” you said, elbowing him in the ribs playfully. “For your information, I doubt any of my own classmates would care about that shit yet, either. That was a distinctly middle-aged thing of you to say.”

“That makes me older than you,” he said. “If I’m middle-aged and you’re still all youthful and whatnot, that is. How do you feel about that age gap? It’s a little racy, don’t you think?”

You gave him an incredulous look. He couldn’t even maintain his straight face for more than a second, immediately losing composure and snorting at you.

“You’re the worst,” you said.

“And you’re easy to tease,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I had to take the opportunity when it presented itself.”

“I’ll give it to you this once,” you said. “Next time, you’re not getting off so easily.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “You’re all talk. I’m not scared one bit.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so adorable,” you said. “How am I supposed to stay mad when you look like you just watched a puppy die every time Yayoi yells at you?”

He scowled at you. “You’re making that up, aren’t you? Or is that how you actually see me?”

“Hm,” you said. “Let’s finish our drinks. They don’t taste as good if they’ve sat for too long.”

Huffing in exasperation but knowing that you’d not go into more detail once you’d changed the subject, he finished off what was left of his order in one fell swoop, and then he snatched Otoya’s drink from your hands, tossing it into the trashcan before you could so much as blink.

“Aw,” you said. “I feel bad. That’s how we’re responding to Otoya’s act of goodwill?”

“Forget about his goodwill,” Tabito said. “It’s not like he did it because of how magnanimous he is or anything. He’s just a dumbass who forgot that he had prior commitments.”

“Nothing like you, of course,” you said. “You’re always on time, and you only ever order the best of drinks.”

“Exactly,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument — not that you would’ve argued with him, even if there was any cause to. Your father had always told you that generally, it was better to lose an argument than a loved one, and since the notion of losing Tabito was akin to a spear being driven into your heart, you did your best to avoid the chance of that frightful outcome ever occurring at all.

A few days before the end of the winter term, Yayoi called you in a flurrying panic. When you picked up, you were expecting her to be asking about the plans you had made for the road trip you two were taking, but it was nothing of the sort. Indeed, the first words out of her mouth were ones you had never once heard from her, and you almost dropped your phone the moment she said them.

“Y/N, I need your help. There’s this guy—”

“What?” you said. “Since when? What’s his name? Where did you meet him, and how? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Is he handsome?”

“Oh my god, one question at a time!” she said. “Yes, he’s super handsome — actually, he’s a model, so it’s kind of a prerequisite. I’m telling you as it happens, so don’t think I’m keeping things from you! His name is Kenyu Yukimiya; he plays for the U-20 team with Tabito, and I met him when I went to one of their practices because I was bored. We spoke once, but I don’t think he remembers I exist, and even if he does, he probably considers me as nothing more than his teammate’s older sister.”

“Wait, U-20? Is he younger than us?” you said.

“Yes, he’s in Tabito’s year, though a couple of months older than him,” she said. “Do you think it’s weird? Oh, it’s totally weird, isn’t it? I’m a creep! I’m a stupid, ugly creep! Lock me away or turn me into the police or something!”

You cut her wailing off with a snicker. “Yayoi, relax. It’s not that weird, and I mean that honestly. It’s hardly even a two year difference, right? My own parents have a bigger age gap, and besides, you both are in pretty similar spots in life, so it shouldn’t be a problem, especially if he’s mature.”

“He seemed mature,” she said contemplatively. “He was super polite and kind when I spoke to him. Plus, unlike my stupid brother, he actually enjoys talking about the same things I do.”

“There you go, then,” you said. “You’re worrying for nothing. The only reason why anyone might say anything is because you’re older than him, but who cares about that? It’s a tired concept, the whole notion of the woman needing to be younger or smaller than her male partner or whatever. As long as he’s single and into you, I’d say you’re in the clear.”

“That’s what I actually called you to talk about!” Yayoi said. “You’ve had a boyfriend, so you know a little more than I do about this kind of thing. How am I supposed to get him to ask me out?”

“Just so you know, having had one boyfriend back in high school doesn’t exactly qualify me to give you advice,” you said. “Also, you can’t really get someone to ask you out. Why don’t you just go to another one of their practices and talk to him again once they’re done? If the conversation is flowing well, then you can ask him out yourself.”

“Um, that would be a great idea if I was brave enough to ask someone out,” she said. “Unfortunately, I definitely am not.”

“You don’t have to be all official and serious about it,” you said. “Don’t say you want to date or anything — ask him if he wants to hang out to continue the conversation at a later time, and then give him your number. That’s all. If he’s interested, he’ll call or text you to make plans, and if he’s not, then he won’t.”

“It’s that simple?” she said.

“I think it is,” you said. “I wouldn’t know from personal experience. Aoyama just asked me out. I never had to do anything.”

“Not all of us can be that lucky!” she said.

“Yeah, I get it. But I have confidence that you can pull it off! It’ll go great, and then you’ll actually be dating a model in Tokyo like you always said you would,” you said.

“Okay…” she said hesitantly. “Y/N?”

“Yayoi?” you said.

“Canyoucometothepracticewithme?” she said, all in one unintelligible breath. You furrowed your brow.

“Could you repeat that?” you said.

“Can you come to the practice with me?” she said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do it without you pressuring me a bit.”

“Sure, why not?” you said. “Is it in the morning or evening?”

“They have evening practices on Tuesdays. I was thinking we could go to one of those? That’s what I did last time, so it’s an established thing, and anyways I don’t think I could wake up early enough to go to a morning practice,” she said.

“Okay, good, because I was kind of scared I’d have to be up before the sun. I’d do it for you, and in a heartbeat, but I wouldn’t exactly be happy about it,” you said.

“I wouldn’t, either,” she said. “This Tuesday, then? We can have an early dinner or late snack together before heading over.”

“I won’t miss it,” you promised. “Make sure you wear something nice!”

After your Tuesday classes and errands were completed, you met Yayoi at a restaurant you both liked so that you could quickly eat before leaving for the practice. She was nervous the entire way, twirling the ends of her hair around her finger, straightening her already-perfect clothes, and chewing on her lower lip.

“Hey,” you said as the two of you entered the stadium and sat on the first row of benches. “Don’t stress out. If he’s an asshole, we’ll sic Tabito on him. I bet he could beat your crush in a fight, easily.”

“I don’t know,” Yayoi groaned. “Yukimiya’s super tall, and he looks pretty built, too. I think my baby brother might be outmatched.”

“No way,” you said loyally. “I’d bet on him over anyone.”

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye. “I wish I could have the same faith in him, but considering what a dumbass he typically is, I can’t say I can muster it up. Look, that’s Yukimiya. Still think Tabito’s got it in the bag?”

Discreetly, she pointed out a boy with wavy chestnut hair and an admittedly powerful build. He stood next to Otoya, which only threw it into further relief just how muscular and tall he was. Yayoi hadn’t been lying about that, and neither had she made up how good-looking he was; you could tell just from that first glance that he was heartbreakingly handsome.

“Well,” you said, realizing that maybe you had been a bit overconfident in Tabito’s abilities. But you were too stubborn to change your answer now, and besides, you believed in him no matter what, so you only shrugged. “Yes. Even if it looked like he’d lose for sure, I’d still pick him. There just isn’t anyone else I’d ever choose.”

“Damn,” Yayoi said. “Fine, then. If Yukimiya ends up being an asshole, we’ll see who wins.”

“Deal,” you said. “Although, hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”

“Hopefully,” she agreed.

The practice was long, dragging on past sunset, the field’s lights turning on to ward away the darkness as the moon crept higher into the sky. Yayoi, who had confessed that she hadn’t slept well the previous night, slumped against you and passed out almost immediately, and you busied yourself with a pattern of checking your phone and watching moths fly fruitlessly into the massive lamps.

Finally, the coach blew the whistle to signify the end of the practice, and as the players exited the field, walking past where you were conveniently seated, right by the joint entrance-exit, you shook Yayoi.

“There’s no way you’re in this deep of a sleep,” you hissed at her unmoving form.

“Y/N?” It was not Yayoi but someone else who said your name; namely, Tabito, who had paused in front of you and Yayoi to gaze at you questioningly. “Why are you at my practice?”

“Not now, Tabito,” you said dismissively. Noticing that Otoya and, more importantly, Yukimiya, flanked him, you doubled down on your efforts to wake Yayoi, who remained unresponsive. “You bitch. I bet you’re just pretending to sleep so you don’t have to go through with the plan.”

“Hey, L/N! It’s been a bit,” Otoya said. “I’ve been visiting the place you showed us almost daily. It’s wicked good. You’re the best for bringing us there.”

“Hi, Otoya,” you said. “Sure, anytime. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Yayoi, if you won’t get up, I’ll just do it myself.”

Without waiting for her to respond, you stood up and bowed slightly at Yukimiya, who seemed entirely bemused by your odd actions. He glanced at both Otoya and Tabito for help, but neither of them had any clue what you were doing, either, so they could offer no assistance to him on that front.

“It’s nice to meet you. I hear your name is Kenyu Yukimiya?” you said.

“Yes, that’s correct,” he said. He had a pretty manner of speech, proper and refined, each word spoken with careful control. “Who might you be?”

“Y/N L/N, but that’s unimportant,” you said. “That’s Yayoi Karasu. She’s Tabito’s barely-older sister. You should talk to her.”

“Y/N!” Yayoi screeched, shooting up to a sitting position. “Why would you phrase it like that?”

“What is going on here?” Tabito said. Otoya shrugged, clearly lost as well.

“So you were faking it the entire time! Never in my life have I met a bigger coward,” you said, clicking your tongue in disappointment.

“Yayoi Karasu?” Yukimiya said. “Oh, I know you! You were here last week, right? We talked about Neon Genesis Evangelion.”

“That’s right! You, uh, remembered that?” Yayoi said. He beamed at her.

“How could I not? The movie is one of my favorites, and none of these guys like it, so it was great to meet someone else who’s seen it so many times,” Yukimiya said.

“Y/N,” Tabito whispered, sidling over to you, the tip of his sharp nose brushing against the shell of your ear. “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

“Depends,” you whispered back. “If you think this is your sister having a crush on your soccer teammate, then yeah, it is. Otherwise, no.”

“That’s gross,” Tabito said, horror twisting his features. “Yayoi and Yuki? No way. You have to be joking.”

“Why not? Because he’s younger than her? It’s only two years. That’s nothing,” you said. “You should be more supportive.”

“No,” he said, a peculiar edge to his voice. “No, I don’t — I don’t care about that part. I thought you might, but I don’t at all.”

“Huh? Why would I?” you said. “If they’re both interested in each other, and they make each other happy, that’s all that matters. We’re adults, so a few years here and there is meaningless in the grand scheme of things.”

“What about you? Would you ever do it?” he said, breathless and impatient, clenching the hem of your shirt in one fist.

“Date someone younger than me? I’m not sure. I’ve never really considered it; you’re the only one younger than me that I regularly interact with, and, well, you know. There’s a special consideration there. Why? Got a teammate you want to set me up with or something?” you said.

“Absolutely not,” he said, stepping away from you and scowling. “I’d never ever ever let one of those mediocre fucking idiots anywhere near you.”

“Just a hypothetical question, then? I suppose there’s no harm in that kind of thing every now and again. Was my response alright?” you said.

“How am I supposed to answer that?” he said tiredly. “It’s what you think, so obviously it’s fine. I should go now. I don’t want to keep Otoya waiting; he’ll get pissy and annoying if I do.”

“Oh, okay. Bye, Tabito! Let me know if you’re free sometime. I feel like I never see you, even though we’re all but neighbors. We should do something,” you said. The strange tone of the conversation had left you reeling, and you scrambled for something that would make it better, would chase away the anxiety constricting your lungs like a vice.

“I’ll let you know,” he said. It was a dull attempt at sounding excited, and for a brief, striking instant, you wanted to reach out and beg him to wait one second more. You wanted to apologize, though you knew not what you had even done. You wanted him to stay until he smiled at you again, the way he usually did, and then you wanted to — you wanted to — you weren’t sure. You weren’t sure what you would do after that, but you would do something, hold his hand or embrace him or something.

Yet instead, you did nothing, watching as he rejoined Otoya and entered the locker room without a backwards glance, leaving you standing by yourself in the bleachers, your heart hammering in your chest like a crow with clipped wings, thrashing against the bars of its steel cage in a futile attempt to escape.

“Can you believe it?” Yayoi said later. “He asked me out first! I didn’t even have to do anything!”

“Congratulations,” you said, as genuinely as you could. “I’m really happy for you, Yayoi. Fingers crossed that it all works out well. I’m sure it will; he seems like a really great guy, and you both were talking for a while, so you’re clearly compatible.”

“Thanks, I think so too!” she said before narrowing her eyes at you. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing!” you said. She was so happy that you could not bear the thought of burdening her with your problems, especially when they weren’t even problems in the first place. Yayoi was having none of it, though, frowning at you.

“You can tell me,” she said. You shook your head, so she poked you in the forehead. “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.”

She punctuated each utterance of the refrain with another poke, until finally you batted her hand away in exasperation “It really is nothing. I just think I did something to upset Tabito — don’t ask me what, because I don’t know — and it’s making me feel a bit out of sorts.”

“He’ll get over it. Why’re you worried? This isn’t unusual. He’s mad at me half of the time. If I felt out of sorts every time he threw a tantrum about something, I’d never feel in sorts,” she said.

“But he hardly ever gets mad at me,” you said.

“Right,” she said, her eyes glimmering. “I forgot the two of you were like that. Hm. I still think you shouldn’t worry too much. If he’s actually mad, which I honestly doubt, then he’ll get over it quickly enough. He’s not capable of staying angry at you for any length of time.”

“If you say so,” you said. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. We need to celebrate you finally saying yes to a guy that asked you out!”

Yayoi blushed but nodded. “Should we go for drinks?”

“It is a Tuesday,” you reminded her.

“Is that a no?” she said.

“It’s a yes,” you said.

“I knew I loved you for a reason,” she said.

“Just for that, you’re covering the tab,” you said. She winked at you.

“Already planning on it!”

The end of your time at university came almost as soon as the beginning had. It was bizarre, walking out of the familiar exam hall for the final time — you knew you had passed, and you already had a job lined up for you in a month’s time, so there wasn’t any cause to worry, and indeed you did not. You only felt odd and light, as if you were floating through the streets of Tokyo, ephemeral like an aluminum wrapper bouncing down the pavement in the wind.

Neither Yayoi nor Tabito could attend your graduation ceremony which was held that Friday; Yayoi had fallen deathly ill, so you had enlisted Yukimiya in keeping her at home, lest she sneak out and kill herself by trying to support you, and as for Tabito, he happened to have a final exam held at exactly the time of the ceremony, which meant he was automatically excluded from attending.

Your parents, as well as both sets of your grandparents, were in the audience, but it wasn’t the same. You couldn’t help yourself from searching for the Karasus, for Tabito in particular, but no matter how hard you searched, it didn’t matter. They weren’t there. He wasn’t there.

When the president of your college, a portly woman with pin-curled hair and red lipstick, handed you your degree, you were hesitant in taking it. Your smile plastered on, you stared towards the door as your fingers inched towards the fancy paper. Any moment now. He’d burst through the door the way you had, and he’d see you, and he’d smile and then wave — it was like a tradition at this point, wasn’t it? It had to happen. He had to come. You knew he wouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop a foolish anticipation from brewing in you as you waited.

Your hands reached the certificate. You held it in front of you as the cameras went off, finally turning away from the door and grinning wider, resolving not to let it ruin your mood. After all, you had worked so hard to achieve this. Why did it matter who was in the audience? It could be an audience of none, and you’d still be happy. You’d still be proud, for no other reason than because you had done it, because all of your hours of studying and classes and homework had finally paid off.

You ate dinner with your family, and then you were invited to go out to a nearby bar by a few of your college friends. Seeing your parents and grandparents to the train station, you rushed back to your apartment to get ready for the night, entirely ready to let loose after what felt like several years’ worth of burdens had just been knocked from your shoulders.

The bar was packed with students from your school, all of whom had had much the same idea as you and your friends. The bartenders were rushing back and forth, sliding drinks out with as much speed as was humanly possible, and before long you were sipping on something fizzy and fruity that one of your friends had handed you.

At some point, one of your classmates, a boy who you had never known particularly well but recognized for his distinctive voice, which could be heard from all corners of the city when he got to bragging about his father’s salary, announced that the rest of the night’s drinks were on him. If you were his father, you’d be furious at the offer, but as you weren’t his father, you took advantage of it with impudence, downing glass after glass of whatever the bartender gave you.

Soon enough, the music and lighting, which you had found so charming and delightful earlier, began to pound at your head. The world spun, not unpleasantly but still in a disorienting manner, and you stumbled towards the door, pulling out your phone and singing to yourself as you decided who you wanted to call.

The cool air of the night was refreshing against your face, and you leaned against the brick wall of the establishment as you squinted at the blinding light of your phone’s screen. You could barely make out the dark characters which stood out on the white background, and eventually you gave up, switching to the keypad and using muscle memory to type in the number your fingers had long ago memorized.

He didn’t pick up until the last ring, and his voice was groggy when he spoke. In the back of your mind, you felt guilty, for you recognized that he must’ve been sleeping, but for the most part you were far too elated to hear him speaking, so you could not bring yourself to be too sorry.

“Hello? Y/N?”

“Tabito,” you said, your words slurring together, dragging out at the ends and trailing into soft breaths. “Tabito, you didn’t come to my graduation.”

He sounded a lot more alert when he spoke next, but he did not change the volume of his voice from that low murmur any. “I told you I couldn’t. I had an exam, remember?”

You sniffed, blinking rapidly. “Yeah, I remember.”

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it,” he said. “You know I would’ve been there if I could’ve.”

“Can you come now?” you said, your lower lip trembling.

“Come where?” he said. There was a muffled sound that you assumed was him rolling out of his bed, and then the soft padding noise of his footsteps.

“The bar,” you said. At this point, irrational tears were welling in your eyes. You weren’t even sad, but you couldn’t stop them from rolling down your cheeks, leaving scalding trails in their wake.

“Are you out with your friends? Why do you want me there? Aren’t you celebrating?” he said.

“I don’t know,” you said, and then you were hiccuping as you cried in earnest. “I don’t know, Tabito, I just want you to be here.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothed you. “I just left my apartment. Is it the bar you and Yayoi like to go to? The one by the grocery store?”

“Yes,” you said.

“I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, and then we can decide what to do from there. Does that sound good?” he said.

“Mhm,” you said. “Are you going really fast? Tabito, you play soccer, right?”

“I do play soccer,” he said, sounding equal parts amused and concerned. “You come to watch my games sometimes. I like when you do that.”

“That means you must be fast,” you said. “Mega fast. Mega extra fast.”

“I’m only a little fast. Most of my teammates are faster,” he said.

“Ah,” you said. “But will you still be here super soon?”

“Yes, I’ll be there super soon,” he promised.

“Can you talk on the phone and walk at the same time?” you asked him.

“Well, I’m doing it at the moment, so yes, I’d assume so. Why do you ask?” he said.

“Isn’t that illegal?” you said.

“No, that’s for when you’re driving,” he said.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t do that, do you?”

“I take the train or walk most places, so I don’t even have the opportunity to,” he said.

“But if you had to drive, you wouldn’t, right? Right, right?” you said.

“Right,” he said. “I’m just around the corner, so I’m going to hang up. Are you outside?”

“Next to the door,” you said.

“Don’t move,” he instructed you, and then he ended the call.

Before you could begin to wail about the abandonment, he was rounding the corner, looking so haphazard that, had you any more presence of mind, you’d have made fun of him for it. His hair stuck up in every which direction, like it had when he was younger and didn’t know how to style it, and he wore nothing but a random t-shirt thrown over a pair of plaid pajama pants, his feet shoved into the black Crocs that Yayoi had bought him as a gag gift last Christmas.

“Y/N! There you are,” he said, his shoulders slumping in relief as he pulled you into his arms. “Look, I’m with you now. Are you happy?”

You giggled. The world still rotated on an unidentifiable axis, but the firmness of Tabito’s grip had a kind of stabilizing effect, holding you in place and together and in one piece.

“Hi, baby,” you said. “Yes. So happy.”

“Baby?” he repeated, and based on the way his skin warmed, he must’ve been blushing.

“Look,” you said, reaching up so that you could play with the ends of his hair. “It’s like when you were a baby. When you were just little baby Tabito. That’s when I met you, you know.”

“I see,” he said, and there was a distinct yet inexplicable despondency to the way that the corners of his eyes crinkled and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Do you want to go home now?”

“I wanna be with you,” you said.

“That’s fine,” he said, so patiently and tenderly that your head grew fuzzier and fuzzier with every word he spoke. “I’ll stay with you either way, but I think we should probably head back. How much have you had to drink?”

“Um…” you tried to recount what you had ingested, but it was all a blur. “I don’t remember.”

He rubbed the back of his hand against your cheek. “Let’s go home, then. You definitely shouldn’t have any more. Will you be alright if I go inside and tell your friends I’m taking you back?”

“Do you have to?” you said, catching his sleeve and holding it in between your hands. “Why can’t we just leave?”

“They’ll worry about you,” he said, prying your fingers off with the utmost of delicacy. “If you leave without letting them know, they might think something bad happened. I’ll explain what’s going on so they aren’t scared, and then we can head out. Does that make sense?”

“Hmm,” you said. “Only because you say so.”

He chuckled slightly. “That’s good. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You counted the seconds that he was gone, and before you reached the seventy-fifth, he was already back, his face flushed from the heat of the bar, his hair even wilder than earlier from the sweat and the humidity, a dusty footprint on his right shoe where someone must’ve accidentally stepped on him.

“I was expecting to have to convince them to let you go with me, but they were all alright with it,” he said, carefully taking your hand and leading you in the direction of the apartment.

“Sure they were,” you said, tripping over a loose stone, only avoiding face-planting because Tabito caught you with the reflexes of an athlete. “It’s because I talk about you so much.”

“Do you?” he said.

“Totally,” you said with a yawn. “All of my friends know about you and your soccer and your studies. I’m just soooo proud of you, so I mention it whenever you do something cool. Isn’t that what a normal elder-sister-figure would do?”

“Yayoi doesn’t,” he said.

“Yayoi is Yayoi,” you said.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “And it doesn’t change what I said.”

“Can you carry me?” you said when you almost stumbled and fell for the second time. “Tabito, it’s hard to walk, so can I please ride on your back the rest of the way?”

He exhaled but crouched, beckoning you forward. “If you really want.”

“Yay!” you said, leaping onto his broad back and clinging to his neck, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he supported you while continuing to walk. “You’re so big now. When did that happen? Have you always been like this? It’s almost as if you’re nearer to being a man than a child, but that’s impossible. You’re still young, aren’t you?”

“It’s not impossible; in fact, it’s the truth,” he said. “If only you ever looked at me and saw me for who I am, you’d have realized I’ve been like this for quite a while now.”

“What do you mean?” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes, allowing the rhythm of his walk to lull you into a trance.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Forget about it. We’re almost there. Are your keys in your purse?”

“Yup,” you said. “D’you want them now?”

“I’ll get them from you once we’re at the door,” he said. “Good thing you don’t have a roommate; I’m sure they’d be pissed off by you coming back so late, drunk out of your mind and with a random guy in tow.”

“You’re not a random guy,” you said, dropping the key to the complex in his waiting hand once the two of you reached the glass gate to the building. “If I had a roommate, they’d definitely know who you are. How could they not? You’re my Tabito.”

“Since when I have been your Tabito?” he said, unlocking the door and flicking your chin up playfully before returning his hand to holding up your leg. “I don’t think that I am.”

“Since always,” you said.

“Really? And does that mean you’re my Y/N?” he said, bending down so you could press the elevator button to take you to your floor.

“Yes,” you said. “For six years I did not know it, but ever since then I have been yours.”

“Well,” he said. “Is that how it is?”

“It is,” you said. He switched the lights in your apartment on and deposited you on the couch, heading to your kitchen and filling up a glass with water. Handing it to you, he sat at your side, bringing it to your lips so you could drink, not taking it away until you had drained the cup.

“Feeling better?” he said. “I’ll get you some crackers to eat.”

“Much better,” you said, chewing on the crackers while laying your head on his shoulder. “My stomach isn’t so queasy, and my vision is a lot more straight.”

“You’re talking more normally, too,” he noted. “At least, you sound a bit comprehensible. Want more water?”

“No,” you said. “I’m sleepy. Can we go to sleep now?”

“Here?” he said. “How about you change into your pajamas and wash your face first?”

“I’m too tired,” you said, yawning yet again to emphasize the point, nuzzling your face against the curve of his neck, your eyelashes crushing against his throat. “You’re so comfortable.”

“Thank you,” he said, patting you atop the head. “But you’ll feel horrible tomorrow morning if you don’t get in bed properly.”

“I’ll feel horrible either way,” you said. “I can’t do anything. We were partying for so long, and now I’m exhausted.”

“That’s true, but you’ll feel worse if you sleep here instead of in your room,” he said. “How about I help you?”

“You’ll help me?” you said.

“If you change your clothes, I’ll do everything else,” he promised, gently pushing you off of him and then standing so he could help you to your feet. “I just don’t want you to feel sick tomorrow, be all cramped up from sleeping in a weird spot, and get a break out on top of that.”

“I guess that’s fine,” you said with a dramatic exhale. “You’re so…so…what’s the word? You’re so persistent. Stubborn. Something like that.”

“People say that a lot,” he said.

“They call you an asshole a lot, too,” you said. “All of the time.”

“Yes,” he said, walking with you to your room, where your pajamas were folded at the foot of your bed. “I think I am one, at least a little bit. It’s impossible for me to be otherwise around mediocre people. I try to fix it, but it’s hard, you know.”

“I don’t think you are,” you said. “You’re the nicest person in the whole entire world. If you were an asshole, you wouldn’t treat me the way you do, but you do, which means you aren’t.”

“That’s because you’re special,” he said after a pause. “To me. And also in general.”

“What do you mean by that?” you said, but when you turned around, he had shut the door between you two, allowing you to change your clothes and him to avoid the question.

Only the thought of disappointing Tabito was enough to convince you to not collapse onto your inviting bed. Instead, you trudged towards the door, opening it and pouting at him, trying to beg with your eyes for him to allow you to go to sleep.

“Good job,” he said, ignoring your silent pleas and dragging you to the bathroom, where he sat you down on the edge of the bathtub. “Is this your makeup remover?”

He showed you the little tub of cold cream you kept next to your sink. You mumbled something generally affirmative, and he unscrewed it, kneeling beside you and massaging it onto your face, paying extra attention to your eyes, which was where most of your makeup was concentrated.

“Who taught you about all of this stuff?” you said, your eyes screwed shut as he used a clean, wet washcloth to remove the cleanser from your skin. “Do you have a secret girlfriend?”

“No girlfriends, secret or otherwise,” he said. “It’s all stuff Yayoi made me learn on pain of death. She refused to have a brother who didn’t know anything about proper skincare. It’s not like I do it all that much, but I’m aware of it thanks to her.”

“You’ve really never had a girlfriend?” you said. You supposed you had always been aware of that, but you had never really comprehended what it meant. How could it be that Tabito Karasu of all people had never even gone on a date?

“Nope,” he said. “Can I use this moisturizer on you? I’m sure you have a better routine normally, but it’ll probably be for the best if we skip steps for the sake of getting this done quickly.”

You cracked your eyes open and then nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. Why?”

“Why what?” he said. The lotion was cold at first, but the circular motions of his fingers on your cheeks warmed it quickly enough that you didn’t even have time to be shocked by the temperature. It was soothing, a tingly sensation washing over you as he worked.

“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend?” you said, his fingertips gliding over your forehead.

“I guess I haven’t found the right person yet,” he said. “Or, no, that’s not it. I have found them. I found them a long time ago, but I don’t — I don’t think they wanted to be found. Not by me.”

“That can’t be true,” you said. “What kind of person wouldn’t want you? Who are you talking about, anyways?”

His thumb swiped over your lips, once and then twice, before coming to rest where they slightly parted. You waited, thinking he might move it, but he did not.

“What will it take?” he said. “For you to stop thinking of me as a child. What more can I do? Name it and I will. If it means you’ll stop thinking of me as your little brother, then I’ll do anything.”

“How else would I think of you?” you said. “You are like my—”

“Please,” he said, and it had been so very many years since you had heard him so distraught that you quieted immediately. “Please stop it. I don’t think of you like that, I don’t love you like that, so please stop it.”

Before you could respond, his mouth replaced his thumb against your own, and he was kissing you, cradling your head in his hands, his ardor winning out over his inexperience as he tried to impress upon you just how much he had wanted you, and for how long.

Unfathomably and without even realizing, you found yourself kissing him back, enjoying every demand he made of you and responding to them each in kind. Your hands wound around his neck and tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on the silky, feathery strands, drawing a small whimper out of him as he wedged himself impossibly closer to you. Yet the sound broke you out of whatever daze you had fallen into, so, with a gasp, you ripped yourself away from him, resting your forehead at the dip of his collarbone as you tried to catch your breath.

“No,” you said. “No, I shouldn’t have — we shouldn’t have — you have to go.”

“Why not?” he said. “You said you shouldn’t have, but you did. Why do you wish you hadn’t?”

“You have to leave,” you said, and then you were crying again, soaking his shirt with your tears as the weight of what you had done began to smother you.

“Let go of me first,” he said. Your fingers, still in his hair, flexed but did not loosen. “Y/N. If you really want me to go, I’ll go, but you have to — you have to let go of me first. You have to be the one to do it.”

You wept harder, because you did not know how to let go of him, because you could not fathom doing it, but neither did you want him to let you go first. It was shameful and wrong, but the truth was that, more than anything, you wished for him to stay, to blot away your tears and lay you in your bed so you could sleep the entire night away.

Somehow, you found the strength in you to yank yourself away from him, all in one go. The moment they left him, it was as if your fingertips themselves mourned, aching to return to their rightful place, but instead of obliging, you used them to cover your eyes. Anything to avoid looking at him. Anything to avoid seeing the anguished expression that most certainly marred his features. Anything to avoid knowing that you were the one who had caused it.

You didn’t look up again until you heard the front door close, and then it was all you could do to turn off the bathroom lights and make it to your bed, crashing into the pillows and somehow managing to fall asleep.

As soon as Yayoi was feeling back to her usual self, you sent her a cryptic text essentially commanding her to meet you at your usual spot for food whenever she could. Thankfully, she recognized when you were having an actual problem versus when you just missed her, and she told you she was free that very evening, so you didn’t have to simmer in your thoughts for any longer than you already had.

“Your brother kissed me,” you said when you sat down across from her.

“Hello to you, too,” she said, closing her menu and setting it to the side. She had only even looked at it as a formality; both of you ordered the same thing every time, so opening the menu was meaningless at this point.

“Hello, Yayoi,” you said. “Tabito kissed me.”

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?” she guessed.

“Yes,” you said. “It happened the other night. I would’ve called you earlier, but you were sick, so I didn’t want to.”

“Alright. It’s a little awkward for me, considering he’s my brother and all, but I’ll set aside my biases and do my best. How do you feel right now?”

“I have no idea. How do you feel?” you said, perplexed by the lack of reaction she was displaying.

“Why would I feel anything?” she said.

“Because? Your best friend just told you that your little brother kissed her? Aren’t you mad?” you said.

“Not really,” she said. “I’m surprised it took him this long, honestly. Everyone knows he’s been in love with you for ages.”

“Everyone?” you said.

“Everyone,” she agreed. “Most of our friends, all of my family, both of your parents…he hasn’t really tried too hard to hide it. I’m pretty sure most of them think you like him, too, but I don’t want to make assumptions, which is why I’m asking you how you feel about it all.”

“How did I miss it?” you said. “I didn’t realize right up until — well, you know — that he liked me, let alone for so long.”

“Sometimes people only see what they think they see,” she said. “You thought Tabito would never like you, so that’s what you believed. But he could, and he did. Now what?”

“Now nothing!” you said. “What am I supposed to do, date him? That’s just wrong!”

“Why is it wrong?” she said. “By the way, I’m not all too invested in any particular outcome, just as long as you’re happy, so don’t think I’m trying to steer you towards any specific path. I just want you to be fully honest with yourself before you jump to making decisions about any of this.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Okay, well, first off, he’s your — you, as in my best friend — little brother.”

“Not yours, though,” she said.

“But as good as,” you said.

“I wouldn’t say so. You’ve never treated him like a sibling,” she said. “That’s not to say you don’t care about him, but it’s in a different way than a sister would.”

“He’s also younger than me,” you said.

“Yukimiya’s younger than I am, and we’re perfectly happy. Plus, you were the first to say that there weren’t any issues with that, so why’s it a problem now?” she said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“But that’s — that’s different! You met him only recently. I’ve known Tabito since we were little kids! Doesn’t that make it weird?” you said.

“People get married to their childhood friends all of the time. It’s not that unusual,” Yayoi said. “Is there anything else?”

“No, it’s just strange, that’s all!” you said. “You seriously don’t find it even a little odd?”

“I’ve had a lot longer to adjust to it than you have,” she said with a shrug, sipping on the soda she had ordered with her meal. “Let’s approach this in a different way. What about if you both were the same age, and you met later in life? In a university lecture or something. If that was the case, and he asked you out, would you say yes?”

“Absolutely,” you said without hesitation. “That was a stupid question. Who would say no? He’s smart, he’s good at pretty much everything, he’s sweet and funny and caring; additionally, from an objective standpoint, he’s incredibly attractive. I’d do everything I could to keep him if he happened to glance my way.”

“Even if he ended up being younger than you?” Yayoi said.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, I — oh.”

She gave you a dull look. “Just so you know, that is not a sisterly way to view a guy.”

“I got that,” you said.

“Do you think maybe it’s possible that you’ve loved him too, almost the entire time?” she said. “Maybe even before you understood what it meant to love someone else? Back when sibling was the closest relationship to another kid that you, as an only child, could conceive of?”

“I guess that that — that’s definitely a possibility,” you said.

“It could be,” she said. “And then the notion of him being your ‘brother’ became so set in your mind that you couldn’t possibly think of him as anything else.”

“There’s a chance that that was what happened,” you said slowly. “But I don’t feel what I did for Aoyama when I look at Tabito. It’s something else entirely.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t love Tabito,” Yayoi said, flagging down the waiter so you could pay for your food. “It just means you didn’t love Aoyama, or didn’t love him as much. Considering which one is still in your life and which one you haven’t spoken to in years, it’s not unlikely.”

“What do I do now, then?” you said.

“What do you want to do?” she said as the two of you exited the restaurant. “I’ll be your friend no matter what. In the end, it’s up to you.”

“I don’t want to lose him,” you said, suddenly terrified. “I won’t survive if I do. Yayoi, I don’t…”

“You can’t,” she reassured you. “If you haven’t lost him yet, then I don’t think it’s possible for you to. But you know, then, right? What’s next?”

“I do,” you said, taking out your phone and picking up speed, veering in a different direction, turning over your shoulder to shout back at her. “Thank you, Yayoi!”

“Good luck!” she shouted back as you took off at a run, holding your phone up to your ear.

“Otoya,” you said breathlessly, as soon as he picked up. “Otoya, is Tabito there?”

“Uh, Y/N? Yeah, Karasu’s cooking dinner, why?” he said. “You good?”

“I’m coming over,” you said. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere, and buzz me in when I get there. This is me calling in that favor you owe me, so do a good fucking job at it, okay?”

“Sure, I can, but why don’t you just ask him to do it directly?” he said.

“I don’t think he’ll pick up if I call him at the moment,” you said.

“Trouble in paradise? This is why I don’t do the whole ‘commitment’ gig. Too many complications,” Otoya said with a scoff. “Fine, I’ll help you, but only because — like you said — I owe you one, and because I’m going to evacuate the apartment as soon as you get here so I’m not caught in the crossfire.”

“Thank you,” you said. “That’s perfect. You rock.”

“Yup, you got it. See you.”

The elevator took too long, so after waiting for thirty seconds, you gave up and went for the stairs, taking them two at a time until you reached the floor that Tabito and Otoya lived on. Then you knocked on the door, waiting with crossed arms until it swung open and revealed Otoya, dressed in a pair of rubber-ducky boxers and nothing more.

“Well, that’s my cue,” he said when he saw it was you.

“Where are you even going to go, dressed like that?” you said, momentarily distracted by the outfit, which was all but offensive to the eye. Otoya winked at you.

“There’s plenty of people in this complex that would welcome me dressed like this,” he said, walking out with a devilish grin. “I’ll go see one of them.”

“You have fun,” you said, unable to do anything but shake your head at the rakish response.

“I definitely will. You…do your best with Karasu. He’s been kinda down, so it’d be great if you could fix him right up again, because his pasta tastes shitty when he’s in a bad mood,” he said, saluting at you before vanishing into the closing elevator.

“Who was at the door?” Tabito said. He wore the pale green apron with white polka dots you had loaned him and never asked for back, and there was a wooden spoon in his right hand, which he used to stir a pot of sauce. “Hello? Otoya? Was it one of your exes again or something? Dude, you’ve gotta stop giving them our address, this is the third time this month that some girl has come to harass you.”

You were still for a moment, standing in the doorway, watching the muscles of his back tighten and then relax as he finished mixing the sauce, setting the spoon down on its stand and putting the lid back on the pot.

“Damn, silent treatment? Was it that bad? It’s your own fault, you dumbass,” he said. “It’s not like I tell you to bring them over. You do that all on your own, and these are the consequences you face as a result. Don’t blame me for it.”

What would you even tell him? He turned the stove to simmer, and you opened your mouth before closing it. You had no idea what to say. You had no idea what was even going on in your mind — you had left Yayoi with such an urgency that you hadn’t had the time to organize your thoughts as you would’ve liked to before such an important moment.

He turned around while untying his apron, his mouth curved into a sneer as he prepared to taunt who he must’ve thought was Otoya messing with him. Yet when he realized it was you, his face fell, as if just by standing there you had reprimanded him harshly.

“Y/N,” he said. You wondered how he could do it, how he could bear to still say your name with the same affection as always. Why hadn’t he left you? Why hadn’t he given up a long time ago? What had you ever done to be worthy of this kind of loyalty? What had you ever done to deserve a person like him?

A lump swelled in your throat, and the harder you tried to swallow it down, the more your eyesight prickled and blurred, until you could hardly see anything at all. For a second you were frozen, and then vaguely you were aware of him taking a step towards you and your inhibitions were lost entirely.

Crossing the expanse of the small kitchen and casting yourself into his embrace, you clung to his neck, crying in earnest when he held onto you as if by instinct, because the way he clutched your waist felt like coming home. He felt like coming home. He felt like butterflies in the spring and leaves in the fall and ice cream in the summer and storms in the winter and every other little thing from your life which you could only ever associate with him.

“I love you,” you said. “I’m sorry, I love you, I love you so much I didn’t even realize it but I do now, I do, and I can finally see that I love you more than anything or anyone, Tabito, so please still love me back, please—”

“Shh,” he murmured, one of his hands moving up and down your back. “Don’t cry. There’s no reason to cry. Y/N, Y/N, don’t cry, I hate it when you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “I was such a fool. I didn’t comprehend it, any of it, because I’ve loved you since before I understood what the word love meant.”

He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, over and over until your tears abated, and only then did he speak.

“I’ve loved you for longer,” he said. “I loved you before I even knew you.”

“And do you still?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “I couldn’t stop so quickly.”

“Don’t ever stop,” you said. “But if you do, if you must, then keep it to yourself. I want to at least imagine that you’ll keep loving me for — for a long time.

“Oh, Y/N,” he said. “You don’t have to imagine that. I’ll love you forever if you want it.”

“I do,” you said. “I do want it.”

His lips ghosted along your temple as he smiled. Then, right before they fit against your own, he murmured: “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

Though you had neither reason nor proof, you found that, wholeheartedly and fully, with all that you were, you believed him.

[amomentsescape]

Hey a while ago I requested a oneshot of the reader giving jason voorhees a shirt that said "thot destroyer 9000" but what if you did that with other slashers? Like giving bubba a shirt that says "everything is bigger in Texas" and freddy in a basic "dream guy/boat etc" shirt or one of the nightmare before Christmas shirts that say "what a wonderful nightmare"? And maybe other slashers if ya can think of shirts that'll fit em? (Shirt quotes not mine and merry post Christmas)

Slashers React to Custom Made T-Shirts

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

A/N: I think this would be absolutely hilarious to see! Thank you so much, and Merry (Very Late) Christmas and Happy New Year!

Freddy Krueger

He lets out his notorious laugh the moment he sees it

"I am pretty dreamy, aren't I?"

Puts it on over his sweater

Will pretty much always have it on, especially when he sees you

He ends up wearing it during his future killings, even asking them if they like the shirt or not

If any of them answer no, he makes their deaths a lot more painful

Will also want you to get a similar shirt so you both can match

He'll probably end up asking for a sweater version a few months later

Michael Myers

He just kind of gives you that disappointed parent look

"Barely even looks like me"

Will refuse to wear it unless you beg him repeatedly over the course of a few days

Finally gives in and puts it on underneath his overalls

He is honestly kind of embarrassed to wear it, but you no longer bothering him about it makes up for the embarrassment

After wearing it a few times, it gets to the point that he doesn't even think about it anymore

It's pretty much all he wears now

But only because he's grown used to it, not because he likes it

Or so he tells you

Jason Voorhees

(I couldn't quite find a shirt that fit the description, so I went with the closest I could find)

He tilts his head at you in confusion

Poor boy doesn't even know what a "thot" is

When you explain it to him, you can tell he finds it kind of funny

Will put it on jokingly for you, only to realize it's pretty comfortable

Will wear it under his jacket

Even if he doesn't have it on, he'll carry it around with him

He insists it helps his killing ability and is a good luck charm

But he pretty much just cherishes ANYTHING you give him

Thomas Hewitt

He lets out a few chuckles at this

Will pull you into a big hug as his way of thanking you

He'll only wear the shirt on special occasions

He's worried it'll get ruined if he wears it when he's working outside or tending to "dinner"

But he does love the shirt

Will probably show it off to the family and receive some laughs and head nods

Will make you wear it sometimes as a joke since you're practically drowning in the shirt

Bubba Sawyer

He loves receiving anything from you

So he happily takes the shirt and gives you some gleeful giggles and kisses as his thank you

But he honestly has no idea what it means

You have to make the connection of what his family eats and the shirt in order to get a true response out him

He'll laugh like crazy

He immediately puts it on

You'll have to quite literally fight him in order to wash it or take it off

If anyone accidentally stains it or causes a tear, he'll go into a frenzy

Brahms Heelshire

He immediately gets it and smiles

You've made a mistake though

Because he ends up putting it on his list of actual rules

Will make some dirty jokes about it

He quickly puts the shirt on and stands there, giving you a "well, go on" sort of look

Anytime he wears the shirt now, he expects you to follow what it says...

Good luck, because you've made Brahms just that much harder to handle

Norman Bates

Will give you a gentle smile and thank you for the shirt

He definitely thinks it's funny and will happily wear it around the house

It mostly becomes a pajama shirt, not that you mind

He doesn't fully understand the joke, but he likes that you think he's cute

Will hang it up in a special place in the closet so he'll always see it

He likes when you wear it too

"I-I think it may suit you better, dear"

"That's so sweet, Norman... wait a minute"

Billy Loomis

He rolls his eyes at it but with the widest smile on his face

It doesn't take much for him to give in and try it on

He secretly thinks the shirt is hilarious, but he doesn't want to inflate your ego and end up with 30 similar tees

Doesn't wear it in public though since he's worried people may become a little suspicious

He likes it better on you though

So you both sort of trade off the shirt every week or so

Stu Macher

Practically the opposite of Billy's reaction

Stu will hold it up and immediately exclaim on how much he loves it

Thinks it's hilarious and will immediately throw it on

Does a couple funny twirls to show off how it looks

Honestly doesn't care what people think

He'll happily skip around in public with the shirt on, you right by his side

If anyone points it out he just shrugs and says "it's pretty sick, right?"

Eric Draven

He breaks out into a big smile and even laughs a little bit

"I see what you did there"

Flashes the shirt to his crow

"They look just like you"

He gives you a sweet kiss as a thank you

Will wear it on dates and stay-at-home days with you

He doesn't want it to get all beat up while he's out taking down criminals

But even after months of owning it, he still smiles whenever he puts it on