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mydemimonde · 1 year ago

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'Cherry Bomb' | Michael Gavey x Reader (Part 1)

a/n: this will have two parts, most likely! english is not my first language and i have no idea how oxford university works lol i just googled some things, also i suck at maths so any explanation here is just me googling shit. no beta reader. hope you enjoy!

Summary: You wake up with a pounding headache, the worst hangover you ever had. You don't even remember how you managed to get to your dorm, until you see a small note on your bedside table, signed by... Michael Gavey.

Words: 4490

Warnings: +18 (minors do not interact!), female reader, no use of y/n, not specific physical description, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, fingering, loss of virginity, masturbation (and more to come in the second part)

You wake up on a Saturday morning with a pounding headache, your mascara all smudged under your eyes. The sunlight coming from the blinds makes you squint your eyes. You bring a hand to your forehead, sighing. This was the worst hangover you had in a while.

The sound of the door opening and a sudden gasp make you groan and close your eyes shut.

“Oh, here you are!” a particularly high-pitched voice says, making your headache even worse.

“Fuck, Leigh” your voice comes out as croaky and hoarse. “Lower your voice” you ask as she mutters a ‘sorry’ and closes the door carefully. You manage to sit, your back resting against the headboard as Leigh approaches you.

“Next time, be sure to drink water as well. Too many tequilas and shots do this to you” it’s like she’s scolding you, which is fair because she’s two years older than you, she’s like your sister sometimes.

You rub your eyes, smearing more mascara and making you look like a raccoon. On the corner of your eye you notice a glass full of water and some aspirins. You frown.

“How did you get that so fast?” It’s Leigh’s turn to look at you completely puzzled. You point to the glass next to you.

“Uhm, it wasn’t me” she chuckles as you take some aspirins in your hand and drown them with water. Your brows lift in surprise and confusion, your eyes glancing towards a small note next to your lamp. You grab it and read the message in a rushed handwriting.

“What the fuck was Michael Gavey doing in my dorm?” you nearly scream with wide eyes as Leigh takes the note from your hands to read it. She throws her head back and cackles.

“Michael Gavey brought you here last night. You don’t remember?” she looks at your dumbfounded expression trying not to laugh again. “Jeez, you were so drunk you don’t even remember what happened…” she mutters and sits cross-legged in front of you. “Last night at the pub, we were chatting with Felix and his group and you wanted to go to the loo, so you left but on your way you bumped into Bradley and Sam” she wiggles her brows and you scoff.

You dated Bradley during half the second term, then you dated his friend Sam for a brief period of two weeks. You found them too boring, so you rejected any other advance on their part ever since.

“Anyways, I couldn’t see much but I think something nasty happened, because on the other side of the pub was Michael fucking Gavey looking at you. Babe, he was fuming” her lips curve into a devilish smile. “He strode towards you and grabbed your arm, telling them to fuck off. Which they surprisingly did, which is odd because, well… you know… he’s a scrawny awkward nerd and Bradley and Sam are pretty much tall like beasts” she shakes her head while you’re still confused, trying so hard to remember what happened.

“Why the hell would he even approach me? He hates me” your brows lift and she places a manicured hand on your knee.

“Hmm, maybe they were annoying you. It seems Michael’s your knight in shining armour. I think it was hot, wet my panties a little bit not gonna lie” she sighs and fans her face with her hand, pretending to melt.

Now it is your turn to cackle. “You’ve always said you pictured him like one of those guys who compulsively jerks off to hentai every night in the dark of his room.” You look at her with a knowing look, pouting your lips.

Leigh shrugs. “Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I like nerds like Michael Gavey now. He looked really good with that shirt” she narrows her eyes and twirls her hair, making you laugh again. She grins and looks at you. “You should talk to him. Ask him what happened, and then you might want to thank him…” she wiggles her eyebrows and you roll your eyes, she slaps your shoulder in response. “You know you want to! I mean, I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes, and a guy like him will never resist a bomb like you. Who knows, maybe he’s jerking off to the thought of you…”

“Leigh!” you slap her leg and she jumps. You shake your head. “Babe, she hates me. I know it. I’m pretty sure he’s part of that group of guys that slut-shames me in the hallways” Leigh presses her lips, knowing you might be right. Might.

Still, you want to know what really happened last night, so you sigh and get out of bed, Leigh following your movements in the dimly lit dorm. “I’ll take a shower and think about how to talk to him, ask him what happened” your friend gets on her stomach on your bed, her feet up and her chin resting on her palm as you grab your towel, feeling the headache go away, but your empty stomach grumbled.

“Mind if I take a nap here? Kev fucked my brains out last night and I don’t feel like going to my dorm” she sounded quite tired, and you hum in response. She groans as she gets into the covers and you enter the small bathroom, closing the door slowly and undressing to get into the warm shower, letting the water fall all over your body. You close your eyes enjoying the feeling, and you start wondering how to talk to Michael.

You never saw him anywhere else rather than in the great hall of college, as he spent most of the time in the library. Besides, you know deep in your gut he hates you. Every time you walk into the library, he leaves, avoiding looking at you.

One time, you tried to talk to him. It was the beginning of the academic year, you were dating a history student named David, and you saw Michael all alone during lunch, too focused on his books and his crunchies. Feeling bad for him, you grabbed your purse and walked towards him, a smile across your face.

“Hi there” you introduce yourself, extending your hand. He looks up from his book, looking at you with a frown, sneering. He looks at your hand and then back at you. Awkwardly, you move that hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, pressing your lips. “What’s your name?”

“Michael Gavey” he says sharply, clearly annoyed. You stand there, feeling heat creeping on your cheeks as he turns his attention to his book. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out so you leave, returning to your friends.

That was the first and last time you tried to talk to him, but he refused. You didn’t know why, but you assumed it was because of your reputation there. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your sexuality, and it’s definitely not your fault that most of the guys are horny douchebags who aren’t capable of being in a serious relationship. Plus, they’re too shallow for you, and you get bored easily. You don’t want them to get too attached.

But Michael’s different. He avoids interacting with people when he can, he doesn’t do parties -maybe you saw him once or twice at Felix’s-, he’s very vocal about what he thinks about popular people: he hates them. Vapid cunts, you heard him mutter once. And that’s why you feel attracted to him.

He’s nothing like Bradley, Sam or David. Or Luke. Or Peter. Or even Felix.

You finish showering and drying off your hair, Leigh sleeping soundly on your bed. You are careful not to make any loud noise as you try to dress. You put on a lace tank top and a pair of jeans, your favourite flats and the note he left on your bedside table and head out to the library, hoping to find him.

Bingo. You see Michael sitting on the other side of the library, fully immersed in his studies. Your flats make the slightest of noises against the floor, you feel your heartbeat get faster as you approach him. You pull the chair in front of him and take a seat, leaning over as you smile and say hi. Michael looks up and nearly chokes at the sight of your tits nearly spilling from your top.

“H-hi” he simply responds in a low voice. He clears his throat and frowns. “Why are you here?”

Ouch. Rude. “I was looking for you.”

“You were?” Silly old me?

“Yes, dummy. I woke up with the worst hangover of my life, and I found this on my bedside table.” You hand him the small note he left. Drink these with water. Hope you feel better. Michael Gavey. He presses his lips and nods, acknowledging the note he wrote.

“You were pretty hammered” he chuckles and you smile, showing your perfect teeth.

“I was. I can’t remember a thing, Michael. Would you help me to fill in the blanks?” you ask sweetly and bat your lashes at him, making him squirm. Michael Gavey squirms.

“Sure, uhm…” he puts the book aside, scratches the back of his neck and clears his throat once again. “You were heading towards the toilet at the pub and I heard you laugh when you bumped into those assholes” he sneers, remembering the events from last night. “The blonde one landed a hand on your ass and you tried to pull him away. You were clearly uncomfortable so just told them to fuck off” he shrugs.

Your heart flutters, he sounds so honest and worried about you. You extend your hand to place it on top of his, and he meets your eyes. “Thank you.”

He nods, looking at your hands. He slithers them away, making you frown. “No worries. Next time though, try not to throw up on my sneakers” your eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment.

“Oh fuck, did I do that?” He nods trying to hide a smirk. You cover your face with your hands, mortified. “Shit, I’m so sorry!” You move your hands away from your flushed face when you hear him chuckle.

“You had too many drinks, you could barely stand on your feet” he reassures you, his sudden kindness taking you by surprise. “I left you in your dorm and just when I was about to leave, you said you felt like throwing up, but you didn’t make it to the toilet and threw up on my sneakers. I washed the stain off the floor and helped you get off your shoes to lie down. I see you took the aspirins I left there.”

“I did, thank you again.” You don’t know how to thank him properly, so you start thinking. You take a moment to study his features. The glasses he wears frame his face and hide his blue eyes. His aquiline nose —oh God, his aquiline nose—, the pronounced cupid bow of his lips, his sharp jaw. You feel the need to run your fingers through his tousled blonde hair. You press your legs together. “How can I thank you?”

“No, it’s ok. No worries” he makes a gesture with his hands and sighs. “Uhm, I really need to study, so…” he trails off, subtly telling you to leave. You blink and nod, standing up.

“Sure, ok, I’ll leave you to it…” you accommodate the chair back and wave at him. “See you around?” He just nods and opens his book again. As you leave, a great idea crosses your mind, but before you open your mouth a pack of students enter the library. You curse internally and leave.

9:15 AM.

You fix your hair in the mirror, brushing it before going to the calculus lecture. You’re not studying anything related to maths actually, you’re a psychology student and according to the university program you can take a course to complement your studies, so you chose that one.

As you walk down the corridors, you see Michael carrying his notebook and entering the classroom. Your lips curve into a smile and speed up the pace to catch up.

“Michael!” You call him as you finally reach him. You swear you hear him mutter something under his breath, and you follow him as more students fill the room. He smiles at you with pressed lips, greeting you back.

“I didn’t know you were taking calculus” he sounds genuinely surprised. You decide to take a seat next to him, placing your bag on the floor as he opens his notebook and clicks his pen, everything ready to take notes.

“Yeah, I have to take an optional course to complement my studies” you lean down, giving him a clear view of your cleavage as you reach for your notebook and pencil case. You hear him gulp.

“How… dedicated” he replies, to which you smile, taking the end of your pencil in between your teeth.

Michael looks away, his eyes focusing on the board as the professor greets everyone and starts writing.

Half an hour later the lecture comes to an end. You sigh in relief, your brain has melted from all the numbers and formulas the professor explained. Honestly, you paid more attention to Michael’s large hands and long fingers gripping his pen as he took notes, thinking about how they would feel on your body.

You watch as he stands up quickly, nodding at you as a way to say goodbye. “See ya”

“Michael, wait!” You quickly put your notebook into your bag and rush after him. “Shall we study together? We can do the assignment due by next week together” you offer him your signature smile, tilting your head and thinking he wouldn’t say no. Most guys melted when you smiled at them like that.

However, your confidence vanishes when he grimaces and scratches his neck. “Actually, I… I don’t study in groups. Doesn’t work for me”.

Why are you surprised, it is obvious. You always see him alone in the libraries. You curse yourself internally. “Oh, well…”

“I’m sure you will do great though, you seem like a clever girl” the praise coming from his lips make you silently gasp.

“Yeah, you’re right…” Just as he’s about to leave, an idea pops in your head. “Actually, Michael… I’m struggling with this subject.”

Lies. You aren’t a genius like he is, but you can manage. You don’t like maths but you don’t suck at it either, you do good. Enough to pass the subject.

“I was wondering if you could help me” you do your best to sound helpless, knitting your brows and all. “Everyone says you’re a fucking genius, please, Mike?” He swallows hard at the way you practically beg him for help, placing a hand on his elbow.

He doubts only for a few seconds before agreeing. “Ok. I will help you” he yelps as you wrap your arms around him, your tits flash against his chest making him dizzy.

“Oh, thank you Michael!” you pull back, teeth biting down on your lower lip as you smile. “Can we start today? I would tell you to come to my dorm, but my friend Leigh is currently staying there because they found a rat clogging her toilet.” Another big lie.

Michael just nods, he doesn’t really have too many options. “Fine. Uhm, my dorm is on the second floor, 219. I’ll be there at 4pm, bring your notes and a calculator.”

You playfully salute him, like a good soldier. “Yes, Sir” he chuckles softly and shakes his head, turning on his heels to leave.

You can barely contain your joy as you walk towards your dorm, almost singing.

3:40 PM.

You try on different outfits, grunting when you look at yourself in the mirror for the fifth time. You don’t like any fit, and you continue rummaging through the pile of clothes on your bed. You lift your brow as a red fabric catches your attention. It’s the mini skirt Leigh gave you a few weeks ago. You quickly put it on and look at yourself in the mirror once again, happy with the result. Your white baby tee with ‘cherry bomb’ in red letters written on it makes the perfect match.

You grab your notebook and head towards his dorm.

“Coming” you hear Michael’s voice behind the door. He will surely be coming today. He opens the door, breath hitching at the sight of you in that top, your nipples peeking through the fabric. Suddenly he feels his pants are too tight. “Please, come in” he gives you enough space to enter his dorm, which you do. As you walk past him the smell of your perfume fills his nostrils. Fuck.

You smile at him and as he closes the door behind you, you look around the room. It was just what you expected. Everything was perfectly neat, books organised in two bookshelves, more textbooks and notes scattered over the white desk.

“Take a seat over there” he points at the bed, and you gladly do it. “Do you want something to drink? Eat? I have some crunchies.”

“No, thanks, I’m fine.” You flash him a sweet smile as you open your bag, looking for your notes and your pen.

Michael sits next to you, keeping a safe distance of course, but close enough you can hear his hard breathing. “Ok, we can start with the basics, and then I’ll help you with the exercises, sounds good?” When you nod, he continues. “Cool. So, think of limits as a way to understand what happens to a function as it gets closer and closer to a certain point without actually reaching it.”

“That sounds paradoxical” you cut him off, and he suppresses a smile.

“It does seem counterintuitive, but it's about observing the behaviour of a function as it gets infinitely close to a specific value.” He continues explaining, and you pay attention to every word that comes out from those beautiful lips.

Michael’s brows lift in surprise as you finish another task quickly, and he’s even more surprised when he checks it and there are no mistakes. He didn’t find any mistakes in the previous 5 exercises he provided for you either. You just look up at him, waiting for his correction.

He looks back at you. “You did perfectly well. Again.” You squeak and he takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t get it. Most students get the first ten exercises horribly wrong, but you solved all of them perfectly. H-how?”

You lean back on your arms, legs crossed. You tilt your head. “Maybe I’m just a quick study, learning from the best” you start moving your feet up his leg, slowly and carefully. He shakes his head as he puts on his glasses again, sighing.

“No. You’re just wasting my time.”

“What?” It’s actually the truth. You are wasting his time, you weren’t having any issues with the subject, you just wanted an excuse. “Ok, yes, I admit it” you lift your hands in defeat, and he curses.

“Why the fuck would you ask for my help if you don’t need it? Fuck, I have many important things to do and you’re here bothering me, leave please.”

You get on your feet quickly as he’s about to turn the doorknob, and you stop him. “No, Michael, please hear me out.” He glares at you, nostrils flaring as you take his wrist and guide him towards his bed, making him sit on the edge. He looks confused, you sit next to him, your knees touching.

“Look, I just wanted to thank you for what you did the other day. For being my knight in shining armour.” He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off by placing your index finger there. “No, listen. I know it’s not a big deal for you, but it is for me. Michael, I want you.”

Michael’s eyes widen at your confession. “W-what?”

There’s no way you wanted him. You, out of all the people on the campus. Slowly, you lean in, wetting your lips with your tongue to press them against his mouth. You give him a soft peck before truly kissing him, your hands finding their way towards his tense shoulders. He doesn’t respond yet, but when you bite gently on his lower lip he whimpers, he fucking whimpers, and moves his lips against yours, trying to follow your rhythm. Your lips taste like cherries, and he loves it.

Kissing him feels good. You tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss, feeling how he squirmed under your touch and kisses. You wonder how he would react when you have his cock in your mouth.

You slither your tongue inside his mouth, exploring it as he gets more excited, his hands finally touching you, placed on either side of your waist.

You pull back to catch your breath and he chases your lips. You giggle. “Easy there, lover boy. We have plenty of time.”

“Fuck, I- I… I’ve never done this” you frown, and he sighs. “I’ve never kissed anyone. Ever. That felt really good” he chuckles, and you smile.

“You liked it?” He just nods, and you start placing open mouthed kisses across his jaw, down his neck until you reach his ear and whisper. “Wait until I put my mouth on your cock.”

Michael gulps. “W-what?”

“You think I came here just because I wanted to kiss you? No, Michael” his eyes follow your movements, how you rise from his bed to kneel in front of him, hands undoing his jeans, looking for any sign of discomfort. When you find none, you continue, pulling down his jeans and boxers down to his knees, freeing his cock. “I came here because I really, really want this” you purr and lower your gaze to his weeping length, your cunt clenching around nothing already.

Michael’s big. At least, bigger than the ones you had. Curved upward with a protruding vein on the side. You bite your lip as you start stroking him, Michael closes his eyes shut and whimpers. You never heard someone whimper so beautifully. You study every reaction, every microexpression as you continue stroking him at a tantalising pace, as if you are torturing him.

“P-please…” he begs through bated breath, moving his hips as he tries to get some friction, anything.

“You look so beautiful begging, Michael. You’re making me so wet, baby” he cries out your name again, and you smirk. “Michael, open your eyes” you demand, and he does so, breath catching in his throat as he finds you there on your knees, looking at him like you were his predator. It was so fucking sexy.

“I want you to watch as I suck your cock. And you better last more than five minutes. I want you to enjoy it” he nods and swallows hard as you lick your lips before taking him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck” he curses, gripping the sheets beneath him until his knuckles are white. You lick the vein, going from the base upwards, and you hear him sigh. You lick him like you lick a lollipop, and then you take him into your mouth again, hollowing your cheeks as your right hand works its way around the base. He’s so big he doesn’t fit completely into your mouth.

You hum around his cock, your eyes closing as you bob your head up and down his shaft, making Michael squirm. He doesn’t know what to do, he just keeps looking at you, unable to tear his gaze from you.

The soft moans that escape his lips, the way he whimpers your name and bucks his hips ever so slightly, careful not to hurt you but eager to get more are enough to make you wet. Hell, you are sure your panties are soaked by now, leaking through the fabric.

His eyes widen as he catches the movement of your left hand that was on his inner thigh going in between your legs, under the skirt. Were you touching yourself?

You bob your head faster and moan around his cock as you tease your wet folds with your fingers. You push two fingers inside your pussy, the room filling with the most obscene sounds you ever heard.

“Are you… are you touching y-yourself?” asks Michael in a strangled moan, watching you intently. You release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, your saliva coating it.

“Of course I am, Michael. I’m fucking wet. Here” you take off your fingers from your pussy to grab his hand, and guide it towards your entrance.

Michael almost passes out. You are, in fact, dripping wet on his fingers. You let him touch you for a moment, grinding your hips against his hand, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit so deliciously. “S-shit, Michael” you bite your lip and he grins, happy to earn that reaction from you. You feel him twitch in your hand, the tell tale sign that he was very close to cumming. You remove your hands from your cunt and he frowns.

“Did-did I hurt you?”

“No, baby. But tonight’s about you, ok? I can teach you how to eat my pussy later, yeah? Right now, I want you to cum in my mouth. Whenever you’re ready” you wink at him and he chokes on a sob as you take him into your mouth again, slowly until you feel him in the back of your throat. Some tears well up in your eyes, you moan around his cock and that pushes him.

He bucks his hips and shoots his load deep down your throat, you look at him through your lashes and see how hard he grips the sheets, his chest heaving as he moans your name. He stays still for a while, panting as you swallow his salty cum, wiping the corner of your mouth with your hand.

“Holy fuck” he mutters, still trying to catch his breath. You get on your feet and plant a kiss on his lips, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “Now… shall I… well, uhm” he’s unsure about what to ask.

“Eat my pussy?” you finish for him and he nods eagerly, you giggle. “Another day, baby.”

“But you… you were touching yourself and didn’t get to cum, right? I have to return the favour—”

“No, Michael. Don’t worry” you reassure him with a kind smile, stroking his cheek. You lean in to kiss him again, and then, you whisper in his ear: “I’ll just finger myself until I cum in my bedroom to the thought of you.”

You smirk as he looks at you with his jaw dropped. You blow him a kiss, open the door and leave.

let me know what you think! and if you'd like to be tagged as well 🫶🏻

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x you #michael gavey fic #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn #saltburn movie #ewanverse #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell fic #mydemimondewrites

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erwinsvow · 10 months ago

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⋆˚✿˖° part two of this ⋆˚✿˖°

the first time it had been tight shorts and an even tighter, cropped long sleeve. rafe had convinced you to stay back with him, murmuring in your ear about how no one else should get to see so much of you exposed like this. you’d fallen for it instantly, with big eyes and a sappy heart, realizing that you liked it when rafe was being overprotective like this.

the next few times hadn’t been as easy, like today. you had opted for skin-tight leggings—blue, like all your workout clothes were now, the pinks and yellows of the past swiftly replaced for your new favorite color—and a matching sports bra that made him want to lock you up in his bedroom.

you’re filling up your water bottle in the kitchen and waiting for sarah, which is your usual routine. rafe knows this and always conveniently always wanders down there when you’re on your way out and his sister is taking too long with her hair in the bathroom. he has at least five minutes alone with you.

“what’d i say about going out like that?”

you hold onto your bottle tight, not wanting to let it almost slip like last time. you smile automatically at the fact that he came to talk to you, but hide it before you turn, before he can see it.

“everyone wears stuff like this, rafe. it’s pilates.”

“ion know what that means.” he stalks closer, like last time, and you try to strengthen your resolve, “you gonna listen or are we gonna have a problem?” your face burns. you hope he doesn’t notice it.

“well, you’re not my boyfriend, so i don’t have to listen to you,” you say, sucking in a breath and trying to look rafe right in the eyes. it’s hard to not cave to his demands, but you know you’re right. you’re both silent for longer than you expected.

“is that so?” your knees suddenly feel weak, every logical fiber in your body shouting at you to not start something with rafe that you can’t finish. it takes everything in you not to set your bottle down on the counter and make your way back up to rafe’s bedroom. you fight the urge as hard as you can.

“m’just saying. if you were really my boyfriend i’d do what you say.” sarah comes down the stairs, and you use the chance to make your escape. when she’s out the door, you turn back quickly. “bye, rafe.”

your class is an hour, but getting a drink with sarah and your friends tacks on another thirty-minutes. when you finally come back to tannyhill, you’ve almost completely forgotten your interaction with rafe. you know he’s not serious about dating you, and it’s time for him to go back to just being sarah’s cute brother, and not your potential anything.

you settle on the couch, wondering if you should even risk staying for dinner or just head back home now, when you hear sarah from the kitchen.

“what the hell is this?” you follow the sound, walking in to find flowers on the counter, pretty yellow flowers with a pink bow, and a card that says your name on it.

ignoring sarah’s words, you open it up, and in scribbled handwriting that you immediately recognize is a few words.

better start listening. rc.

#<3 #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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kpopflowerfield · 2 months ago

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Run | njm

ღ pairing: college fem! reader x classmate! jaemin

ღ word count: 6k

ღ genre: nsfw, mdni

ღ warnings: making out, soft sex, fwb, fingering, tit sucking, soft dom! jaemin, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex,

ღ rating: angst/fluff

ღ networks: @k-vanity @k-library

ღ author’s note: ty to @lovetaroandtaemin for beta reading!!

ღ summary: You and Jaemin were a fling once upon a time but reader decided to date someone else, leaving jaemin heartbroken, becoming distant from their friendship as he didn’t want to face his feelings

↠ check out the rest of the tracklist here! ↞

You stared at the board in utter confusion about what your professor was writing. Nothing was lining up from the notes you took in your previous class with Mr. Oh. You sighed and heard a chuckle from the boy who sat next to you. "What's so funny?" You whispered as he looked at the notes you had spread out on your laptop and the books in front of you. "If you're lost, I can help," He smiled at you. You smiled to yourself at the way his eyes formed little smiles of their own.

"If you're willing to help me out, I wouldn't say no…" you trailed off. He snickered at you. "Just give me your number," he pushed over a pad of sticky notes to you. You took the pad, wrote your number down, and handed it back to him. He looked at your neat handwriting as he peeled off the note with your information and put it in his pocket.

"I'll text you after class. You don't have to let me know what you're lost on. I can send you my notes." You sighed in relief at his offer. "I just met you, but you're my savior." He laughed quietly at you as your professor wrapped up. You stood up with him and walked out. "Good luck with the rest of your day!" he called out as you walked your separate ways. "You too!" You smiled as you walked into your booked study room.

Unknown number: Hey! It's Jaemin from statistics!

Y/N: Hey! Thank you again for being so willing to help me out! I owe you big time! ㅠ_ㅠ

Jaemin: It's seriously no problem!

Jaemin: [7 images]

Jaemin: These are all the notes I took! Text me whenever if you're confused!

Y/N: Seriously, Jaemin. You are my savior.

He laughed at your text as you smiled. Your friend was watching you, but you were too focused on texting Jaemin, which you didn't even notice.

Y/N: What's your major, btw?

Jaemin: comp sci

Y/N: so you're brilliant:,)

Jaemin: What about you, pretty?

Your cheeks flushed at the compliment that Jaemin gave you out of nowhere. You did find him ridiculously attractive, and he made it hard for you to focus sometimes. He always sat somewhere near you. Even if you didn't look up to see who was sitting next to you, you knew it was him from the citrusy cologne he always wore.

Y/N: Political science :) I'm going to start law after! I'm looking into some classes abroad once I'm done with the semester.

You had a grin on your face as you texted him; your friends were still watching, waiting for you to look up from your phone. Areum nudged you with her elbow, and you took your eyes off your phone for a moment to look at her. "Who are you texting for you to smile like that?" You blushed lightly at her, calling you out. "Just some guy from one of my lectures," you shrugged it off as she nodded a bit. "'Some guy,'" she mocked you, and you whined at her teasing.

A few days passed by, and you were still glued to your phone. Messaging Jaemin every thought you could tell him, and he did the same. You both had so much in common that you were surprised. "How's your boyfriend?" Areum teased. She became relentless when she mentioned him. She was always acting as if you've never talked to a guy on campus before him. It wouldn't be too far-fetched. You did try to talk with some other guy in your anthropology class last semester, but he wasn't into talking to you at all, and after him, you didn't really want to get involved with someone else.

"Yeah, yeah. You know he's not my boyfriend," You stretched your arms out as you put your phone down and started to focus on your classwork. "I mean, you guys are texting non-stop; you've been running off as soon as our reservation is over, too. It's not too outlandish for me to think you're dating,"

It was hard to argue; everything she was saying was true, but you just had so much fun with Jaemin that it was hard not to want to spend time with him. Jaemin was going through similar conversations with his roommate, Jisung. You were over their place so much that he started to tease you about starting to pay rent.

His place just felt so comforting, plus for two twenty-something-year-olds, their place was nice. The place was always clean, except maybe a clutter of shoes near the doorway and study materials on a dining table that they had never used.

Minnie: Come over when you're done with classes. I want to see your face.

Y/N: I'm almost out of this lecture. I'll come running over.

He laughed to himself at your message, knowing you were dead serious about running to him once you were done, and that's what you did. You ran up the steps and knocked. The door opened after a moment as Jisung stood there, his oversized shirt swallowing his body. "Jaemin! Your girlfriend is here," He called out as he let you in. Jaemin walked out of his room and smiled at the sight of you.

"How was your class today?" He smiled, embracing you in a hug. "It was good," You wrapped your arms around him as he kissed the top of your head. "Alright, love birds. I'm going to class and have a study room reserved." Jisung announced. "Have fun!" Jaemin didn't even look in his direction as he led you to his room.

He turned on the TV as he laid down on the comfy duvet. You lay down next to him, cuddling up to him as he turned on some stupid reality show that you would barely focus on. You looked up at him from his side. He smiled down at you, cupping the side of your face. "You're so beautiful," He cooed as your cheeks flushed. The way he was looking at you as he leaned down was setting off fireworks in your mind, and once his lips met yours, it felt as if the finale was starting. His lips were gentle against yours.

He moved on top of you carefully, balancing on his arms beside you. He bit your bottom lip gently, pulling gently as a soft moan slipped out from your mouth. Your body was heating up as he kissed you deeper.

Your lips melted against his as his arm slipped behind your back, pulling your torso closer to his. His tongue danced with yours as he held you closer.

You've made out with other people plenty of times, but it felt so natural with Jaemin. He held you tight, not wanting to let you go as his kiss grew deeper. "You're so perfect," He mumbled against your lips.

You could feel his growing member against your thigh, and your cheeks flushed. You should maybe slow down. It wouldn't be good to have sex just a few days after meeting... right?

You couldn't help yourself as you held onto Jaemin. His lips traveled from your lips to your chin. Leaving light and gentle kisses until he reached your neck.

His lips pressed against your soft skin, focusing on that sweet spot that made you let out a soft whimper. He loved the sounds leaving your lips as he bit down lightly. Leaving light marks down your neck.

He followed the same path as before as he kissed your lips, pulling your lip down and sliding his tongue in your mouth. He couldn't get enough of you.

His lips separated from yours, putting his forehead on yours. "We should slow down, shouldn't we?" He wasn't sure how you felt and didn't want you to feel pressured into making the heated make-out session into something much more.

You nodded hesitantly. You wanted to feel him deep inside of you. To feel his tongue so much more than just inside of your mouth. Both of you wanted much more but didn't want to rush into it just yet.

He moved over, so he wasn't on top of you. He pulled you closer to him so you could cuddle. He changed the TV to a movie for the two of you to watch. You looked up at him, seeing the way he was entranced in the movie that was playing.

"Hey, Jaemin?" You looked up at him as his eyes shifted from the screen to you. "Yeah?" He smiled softly. You looked into his eyes; god, they were beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful. "I like you a lot, Jaemin." You watched his expression.

He laughed and smiled. You tried to hide your disappointment in his reaction. People were already making assumptions that you were a couple, but you couldn't even take that seriously when all he did was look at you and smile.

No actual response to your confession. It did really hurt that he didn't even say anything back. Just a laugh and nothing else. You focused on something else as he still had his arm wrapped around you.

You both continued with what you usually did. The time together never changed. Going out to dinners, buying each other gifts just because, even the occasional intimate moments that you had. Thank god there was no awkwardness from the confession.

You looked at him, standing in his door frame as Jisung had already left for the day and went to class. His body came closer to yours. The way you were looking at him made his heartbeat speed up.

He walked over to you, cupping your face. "You're so beautiful." His voice was barely a whisper as he looked at you. Your cheek was nuzzling into his touch. He leaned down, his lips meeting yours as you held onto him. Your hands placed on his waist as he held your hips, picking you up. His hands shifted to your ass as he kissed you.

Your tongues moved in sync as he carried you to his room. Soft moans escaped your lips as he nibbled down your neck. Each sound encouraged him more, eager to please you. He carefully laid you on his bed, hovering himself above you. "I want to go further," He studied your expression, searching in your eyes for what you wanted. "I do, too," Your eyes filled with the excitement of finally feeling him.

He moved off of you, taking off his shirt and tossing it across his room as you followed what he did. Taking your bra off as he bit his lip, staring at your tits. "God, you're perfect," He exhaled, getting on top of you.

His lips were ghosting down the side of your neck and around your nipple. You gasped lightly at the feeling of his tongue flicking on your nipple. His teeth lightly pulled at the pebbled flesh. "Jaemin," you moaned quietly.

Those sweet sounds escaping your lips just encouraged him more as his tongue continued to circle. Your core was heating up with his touch. His hand moved down slowly, taking in every inch of your skin. He reached for your pants and pulled them down. Goosebumps spread as you felt his hand massage your thighs lightly. He could feel heat radiating from your body. His gentle kisses traveled down the center of your stomach. Your body tensing underneath him.

He pulled your underwear down and looked up at you, his eyes looking for permission. You quickly nodded as he spread your legs, moving so he could lay in between your legs. "If it gets uncomfortable with me here, just put your legs on top of me." He coached as you nodded; words could barely form as you were too excited to feel him on a different level.

He slid your underwear down, tossing it off to join the rest of your clothing. His finger teased your slit as you squirmed. He stared up at you, watching your expression as he parted your folds. "You have such a pretty pussy," He mumbled before gliding his tongue around your clit.

Your fingers wrapping themselves in his hair from the pleasure. Your back arched as he lightly sucked on your clit, moaning from the taste of you. The pleasure came over you in waves. He slipped his finger in as you moaned out. His finger moved slowly, making you jerk your hips, wanting more and more from his touch.

His drool dripped down your thighs as your breathing was heavy. His finger pushes in up to his knuckle before adding a second. "F-fuck, Jaemin.." You whimpered. He looked so smug, seeing how much pleasure you were in from just his touch. "Yes, baby?" You could only moan in response. His fingers sped up, touching your walls in ways you haven't felt as they clenched around his fingers. "God," You swallowed. "P-please just fuck me," You pleaded. His fingers stopped as he slipped them out of your dripping wet heat.

He took his pants off and walked over to his nightstand, grabbed a condom, and slipped it on. "How do you want to do this?" His voice was gentle. "I just want you in me. I want to feel every inch of you deep inside."

The neediness you spoke with made his hunger for you grow. He grabbed pillows and put them under your back, making it more comfortable for you. Your legs lifted for him as he placed one of your legs on his shoulder. His eyes looked at you once more for permission as his tip was pressing on your opening.

You bit your lip and looked at him. “Please fuck me,” You pleaded. That was all he needed to hear before his cock slowly was wrapped in your warmth.

"Oh fuck, Y/N," he groaned, keeping his pace slow. He wanted to savor every part of you. "Y-you feel so good, Jaemin," You mewled out as his hips rolled into you. He moved your legs off of his chest. You quickly wrapped them around his hips, still wanting to have more of your body on his

The feeling of his length pumping in and out of you making you moan out. His pace picked up as he leaned down, kissing your lips. "You feel so fucking good," His voice was so husky as you hummed in response against his lips.

His hips struck yours as you moaned out, his pace picking up as he was driving you closer and closer to your orgasms. His lips indulging in every part of your skin he could. You moaned out as your walls convulsed around him.

He picked up his pace but kept his thrusts gentle. "I love how you feel wrapped around me," He grunted as you felt his cock twitch. "Don't stop," you purred. His cock was introducing you to new pleasures. Your eyes shut halfway as they rolled back. His hips stuttered against yours as he groaned. "Fuck, Y/N," He didn't have to say much more for you to know he was right on the edge. Your walls spasmed against his cock. "I'm gonna fucking cum," You whined as he held your hips tightly.

Your legs wrapped around his waist tightly. "Jaemin," You cried out as that knot in your stomach unraveled, your legs quivering as your grip on him loosened. His thrusts halted, his body shuddering over yours as you felt his cock twitching inside of you.

He looked down at you, moving carefully to leave a long kiss on your lips. He panted as he placed his forehead on yours. "You felt so good," He smiled at you, his lips meeting yours again. Your lips melted against his. "You're amazing, Jaemin," You watched him as he pulled out carefully. You moved your legs, removing them from his hips that they were on. He got off the bed and walked to his bathroom to discard the condom.

He walked over, pulling the covers back so you both could get under. His arms wrapped around you as his thumb brushed on your shoulder. "Hey, Y/N?" He looked down at you, seeing you wrapped in the sheet as you lay on his side. "Yes, Minnie?" You smiled up at him. "I really like you. You're so perfect," you both liked each other more than you could put into words. It was hard to react to his confession. Just a few weeks ago, you confessed, and it was laughed off and pushed behind you. You nodded against his bare chest. His thumb is still brushing against your shoulder. He didn't say anything else about the confession.

An awkwardness filled the room that night. Neither of you would admit to it, but things were changing between you. You both were just trying to play it off as if nothing was wrong. You still texted one another and hung out, but jokes from Areum and Jisung disappeared. It felt weird getting asked if you were dating now. Nobody's asked in a few weeks, so maybe people were accepting you were just friends with Jaemin.

That was until you were approached by a couple of girls that you didn't even know. "It's Y/N, right?" You nodded as they stood across from the table you were working at.

"You and Jaemin are a couple, right?" Your brows furrowed at the sudden question. Strangers were now asking out of the blue. They were staring at you, waiting to hear your answer.

You bit the inside of your lip, not knowing what to say. "We're just friends, that's all," You panicked as two girls you've never met before looked at you in shock, expecting you to say that you were a couple.

"So I can shoot my shot, and you'll be okay with it?" She stared at you, waiting to hear every damn response you had. "Yeah, go ahead." You shrugged as she walked off with her friend.

You shook your body like you were trying to get rid of the vibes from that conversation. Everything felt off the rest of the day. Your phone buzzed suddenly. You weren't expecting to hear from Jaemin anytime soon as he had a lecture that took up most of his days.

Minnie: Damn, I've had like four girls dm me today. Do you know anything about that?

Y/N: I'm sorry. I panicked when people asked me what we were. I said we're just really close friends.

Y/N: I mean

Y/N: that is what we are?

Y/N: right?

You panicked with each text. Maybe you shouldn't have just dismissed the girls by saying you were friends and nothing more. That was your opportunity to claim him as yours and maybe solidify your relationship. Regrets started to seep in as you waited for his response.

As you waited to hear from him, you packed up your belongings and walked home. You were getting worried that maybe you fucked up. Maybe you should've told those girls not to talk to him. It was too late now for you to take back your words.

You sighed as you walked into your apartment. Setting your study materials on the dining table. You were supposed to focus on your work, yet you were tapping your home screen every few minutes. The screen lit up to a photo of you and Jaemin as you searched through notifications, seeing that he texted you about five minutes ago.

Minnie: Yeah

You stared at that four-letter word. He always had more to say than just one quick word. Even with the confessions from both sides, nothing happened, so why did he seem so upset this time around? For the first time, actual awkwardness seeped in between both of you. It wasn't one of those quick ones that got pushed behind you. It felt much more severe.

Conversations were shorter, and you didn't think much at first. Maybe he started talking to one of the girls that hit him up. You kept telling yourself everything would work out. Conversations were just shorter since finals were around, and Jaemin wanted to study for them seriously. It wouldn't surprise you as he always held himself to high standards.

You'd be happy for him if he did; you started talking to another guy you ran into on campus. You could only wish Jaemin was doing the same. The connection that started to form between you and Jeno was becoming similar to the one you had with Jaemin. Your only issue was telling if this would stay as a platonic friendship and not a relationship. That was always your downfall when talking to someone.

Jaemin was a prime example. God, he was perfect. He knew everything about you, every place you loved to be touched, the pace that would drive you straight to an orgasm every time without fail. He also knew what made you smile after a rough day of class or if you ran into trouble with anything. He just knew you.

You couldn't lie when you say you regret how things were beginning to separate from you and Jaemin; it would've been much easier for you just to commit and try again with confessing.

Jaemin could say the same about you. That's why he was worried about the distance that started to form. It wasn't intentional, but he was hurt that you didn't try again with him. Instead, you just let him go without talking to each other.

Minnie: Hey love, I was wondering if you'd like to come over? I miss you, and I want to talk with you :(

You stared at the text and looked over at Jeno. He was watching your movements as you held your phone. "I'm so sorry to do this. Do you mind if we study another night? You have my number, so just text me." You collected your belongings.

He gave you a quick goodbye as you made your way over to Jaemin's. Your heart suddenly started to beat faster as you got closer and closer. It has been a while since you've seen him, and you were just hoping he didn't have a grudge against you.

The door opened after a quick and gentle knock. "Y/N," He grinned and wrapped you in a hug. "I wasn't expecting you to come. You didn't say anything after I asked." You stood there in his embrace for a moment. Holding onto him like your life depended on it.

"Are you upset at me?" you blurted out, your head on his chest. Your heart rate decreased as you heard him sigh. "No, silly." He let you into his apartment, not wanting to keep holding you in his door frame. "Are you mad at me?" He fired the same question at you as you shook your head quickly. "Absolutely not. But I am curious about something," You had a mischievous smirk on your face as he raised an eyebrow, wondering what you could've possibly been talking about.

"And where is the curiosity coming from?" He sat down on the couch. "What girls hit you up?" You took your place on the couch next to him as he laughed a bit. "Let's see," He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"We have…" He opened Instagram and clicked on his messages. "Jinsoul from my databases class, Hayun from the linguistics lecture we had. Sua from my algorithm lecture and Sohye from calculus." He laughed a bit and closed out of them.

You couldn't help but notice that he hasn't responded to any of them. "Okay, Mr. Popular," You teased him as he shook his head. "How about you?" He nodded towards your phone in hand. You laughed. "Only one person,"

"Really?" He was trying his best to hide his jealousy. "Yeah, Lee Jeno. He was in my psych class last year, and he randomly decided to message me. We've been hanging out. We have the same major, so we study it once a week."

He nodded, biting the inside of his lip. "I'm glad you found someone willing to help within your major. That's always helpful," He smiled at you, placing his hand on your lower thigh. "Yeah, but I still like your help," You grinned at him.

He wanted to ask you a million questions about Jeno but didn't want to press you. He figured it wasn't worth the questioning. He was jealous, though. He loved having study dates with you. He loved being able to watch you finally understand something difficult that he put into terms you understood.

He ignored his feelings for this random Jeno guy. It didn't matter. That's what he told himself. You and him were all that mattered when you came over.

It changed over time for him. What you once had wasn't happening anymore. Every time you came over, all you could do was talk about Jeno. What did Jeno help you with that week in your classes, and what were Jeno's favorite things to talk about?

It was all too much for Jaemin. He should've known it would end up as a fling for the two of you, but he figured you would be able to make it work at some point. He knew after this year you were going abroad, but he was hoping you would be with just him until the time you were going to leave.

He wasn't sure how to say these words to you. You meant the world to him, and he was losing you to some stupid guy in your major. He wanted to spend time with you and just have silly text messages in between you, but everything stopped. He eventually stopped asking if you wanted to come over because you would always be busy with classwork or with Jeno. He stared at his phone, debating if it was worth texting you, but he couldn't help himself, so he sent you a text. He wasn't too outlandish for wanting to see your face again.

Minnie: Come over :( I miss seeing your face. I know I haven't asked in a while.

You stared at the text as Jeno looked over your shoulder. "Hey, just stay with me," He smiled at you. You laughed lightly. "I want to, but he's also my best friend. I can't just keep saying no." You watched as Jeno crawled on top of you. His naked body is hovering over you in his sheets.

"Come on, Y/N," He kissed your neck as you sighed out, loving the feeling of his soft lips on your neck. "See, I know you want to stay." He smirked against your neck. You bit your lip, hesitation setting in. "Jeno, I'd love to stay, but maybe later. Okay? I just want to stop by his place for an hour. Two, tops." You stared up at those gorgeous eyes he had.

"Alright, love. Text me when you get there. I want to make sure you get there safe." He moved back to your side. You got out of his bed and dressed yourself. "I will," You smiled, watching as he leaned closer to you. You bent down and let a kiss land on his lips as he smiled at you. "Have fun," He watched as you walked out. Your heart was still pumping from your 'workout' with Jeno as you made the walk to Jaemin's.

You knocked on the door, and Jaemin opened it. Smiling at you, he didn't say anything, but he noticed that you didn't fix your hair after leaving Jeno's and the bite mark on the side of your neck. He just let you in without saying anything for a moment. He cleared his throat. "I was thinking we could get some food and watch one of those stupid reality shows." He looked at you as you quickly nodded. "Absolutely, I love those stupid shows." He let out a heartfelt chuckle. "I know you do."

He started to feel stupid; he didn't want to say it out loud, but he knew there wasn't much he could do on his own to make everything the way it used to be.

"So, what have you been up to since I last saw you?" You plopped down on his couch. He thought for a moment, trying to remember what he's done in the past three weeks. "Studying, I really want to do good on my final." He nodded, biting his lip as he thought a bit more. "I've watched a few anime's I wanted to get to. That's about it," He nodded.

He really didn't want to hear about Jeno, but he also didn't want to be rude and not ask how you were doing. He cleared his throat and sat next to you. "What about you?" He watched as you started to fix your hair. "I've been studying too. Going out with Jeno, too. He's amazing, Jaemin. We connect over everything, and it just feels so natural whenever we're together," You sighed happily.

A sour taste grew more potent in his mouth as he nodded. He couldn't help but think of what you said about him. "I'm glad." He was short and to the point, not wanting to hear about him again for the rest of the night. "What do you want to eat?" He was trying to hide the jealousy in his voice, as you thought. "Pizza? Or maybe some chicken," You spaced out, thinking hard about what you wanted.

Jaemin laughed. "How about both? I see the steam coming out of your ears," He teased you, making you whine at him. He smiled and ordered your food. He didn't want to pry but couldn't help himself. "So…what are you and Jeno?" He watched your reaction, the way your cheeks flushed at the mention of his name. A bitter taste in his mouth spread as he couldn’t get rid of it.

"We're together," You nodded, hearing a knock on the door. He stood up without a word and took the food, placing it on the table in front of you two. He tried to keep the mood light even though he was hurt hearing you admit your relationship with Jeno. He still believed that maybe there was a chance for the two of you—more than just a semester. But every time your mouth opened and Jeno's name left your lips, his heart broke some more.

He still desperately wanted to hang out with you, even though it became different in the past. The few times that you've had to catch up, he doesn't even say a word that you react to. All you could do was utter your boyfriend's name, and it started to make his hatred for this random guy grow. He created distance, slowly but enough for you to rarely talk. You started to notice after it's been a month and a half since you've talked.

Y/N: Minnie, is everything okay? We haven't talked in a while :( Are you upset about anything?

Minnie: I'm okay, Y/N. I'm just not trying to get in the way of you and your boyfriend.

Y/N: oh, shush. You're my friend! I always have time for you. I just have been worried since you haven't reached out.

Minnie: No. I'm okay; I'm free tomorrow night if you want to come over, and we could talk some more. I just want to get my classwork done now.

You blinked at the way he suddenly shut down the conversation. It was weird, even for him. It wasn't like him, he's been upset before, but he's always talked to you. You brushed it off for the night as Jeno's touch kept your mind off of how weird Jaemin was being.

You checked the time as you stretched out. You picked up your phone and saw Jaemin's text.

Minnie: Come over whenever.

Y/N: Alright, I'll leave soon :)

You stood up, throwing on some sweats and Jeno's hoodie. You texted him that you were walking up and saw him opening his door from the steps. "Hey," You smiled at him. "Hey," He held the door open for you as you walked.

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle from his fridge. "So, what did you want to talk about?" You took a sip of your water. "I know you thought something was off." He cleared his throat. "And there kind of is," You watched as he ran his fingers through his hair. Your heart sped up hearing him admit that. Silence filled the room at that moment.

"What's wrong?" You questioned, your heart beating out of your chest. "I know I told you it was no problem that you told people we weren't together. I just wish you asked me first. I feel like we never sat down to talk about it. Just weird confessions out of nowhere, and that was all." You shook your head at him, not believing what he had to say.

"Jaemin…" You sighed deeply. "I confessed to you, and you laughed it off. After that, I thought it was pretty straightforward that we were seeing it as just a fling. I didn't think it was something serious after that." You became upset that he was trying to blame you.

"I know, that's why it took me a bit, but then when I confessed, you did the same thing." He sat on the edge of his couch, staring at you. "Is this about Jeno?!" You scoffed as he held his head.

"Do you have to bring him to everything?!" He didn't raise his voice, but you could see he was getting annoyed. "Listen, Y/N. You went off and told everyone that I'm single. I got a few messages from girls who just want to sleep around. Not have a connection. While you got a whole relationship, I am upset, but I think I have every right to feel this way."

You listened as he rambled. Starting to get frustrated with how he was speaking. "You didn't make it clear to me, Jaemin. Please don't assume that it's my fault that we're not dating. There was clearly something about each other that neither of us wanted. I'm not taking the blame, and I'm not placing it on you. But you are being ridiculous."

His jaw dropped slightly upon hearing your words. "Clearly, something isn’t working. I thought we were both pretty honest with each other, but I was wrong. I can't just stand by and be here for you when you never want to see me because you're too busy with your boyfriend. I can't hang out and listen to you bring him up with every mention of something I say." He took a deep breath. "I'm happy for you. I'm glad you have someone, even though I wish it were me. I just think we should go separate ways."

You stared at him in disbelief. "What do you mean?" You watched as he crossed his arms over his body. "I found something else for me to do. A better program for my major abroad. I'd rather follow that than stand here every day, debating whether even to text you because you don't even respond anymore." He shrugged as you nodded slowly.

"Where are you going?" You looked at him, seeing the way his body relaxed completely. "Singapore, there's a good college over there, so hopefully that'll help me out to find a good job." His voice seemed so dry as if he was talking about something he really didn't want to do.

"And you really want to go?" You couldn't help but question him as he nodded. It was a slight nod, but it was enough for an answer. "I'm going to miss you," You walked closer to him. "I'm always a text away, don't forget that." You spoke gently. Reaching your arms out for a hug, he held you close. "I'm going to miss you, Jaemin," You sighed and held onto him.

He reluctantly hugged you, worried about getting himself hurt if he said much more. He cleared his throat as you let go. "Are you really going?" Your voice was small, and tears were forming in your eyes as he nodded. "Yeah, I hope you have a good time when you go abroad too. We can text whenever," He shrugged as you nodded. You were in disbelief that he was leaving, but there was nothing that you could say to make him stay.

He did want to stay, but now that he's really seen how you feel for someone else, he's just decided it was better for him to run.

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harrysfolklore · 1 year ago

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yes for tom!! (bday anon!!)

first of all HAPPY BIRTHDAYY this is short but i didn’t want to leave you without your bday blurb 🥹 hope u guys like it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

gifs by @ssoveia <33

Birthdays were never your thing.

Surely growing up you had a lot of good memories when it came to celebrating your birthday, but as you grew older you forgot the magic behind celebrating your birthday.

However, that changed when you started dating Tom two years ago, he always made sure to make your day special and make you feel loved and celebrated.

In your first year together he threw you a big party in a rooftop in New York City, getting all of your friends and close family together. For your second, you celebrated in a more intimate way with a small trip to Greece.

However, this year you didn’t have any expectations on how would you celebrate your day, since Tom’s schedule was beyond busy with the press, promo and premieres of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

You were extremely proud of him and everything he was achieving, so you wouldn’t blame him if he happened to forget your birthday, he was doing what he loved the most and that was enough to make you the happiest ever.

As the morning of your birthday approached, you woke up feeling a bit disappointed, knowing Tom had to leave early for the some promo shoot for the movie. The empty side of the bed only echoed his absence.

However, when you when you headed the stairs, a full breakfast and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers greeted you, accompanied by a note in Tom's handwriting.

"Happy Birthday, my love. I'm sorry I had to rush off. I hope this brightens your morning a bit. We'll celebrate tonight. Love you x . - Tom."

Just as you were admiring the bouquet, your phone ringed with an incoming video call from Tom.

"Hey, birthday girl!" Tom's face beamed through the screen. "How's your day been so far?”

"It's been good, actually," you smiled fondly at him, "Breakfast and the flowers were such a lovely start"

"Look, I'm really sorry I couldn't be there to say Happy Birthday first thing in the morning," his voice sounded distressed and you couldn't help but feel for him, "I'll make it up for you tonight, I promise."

"Don't worry about it, baby. I completely understand. I know how crazy your schedule is right now," you assured him, "You're doing what you love the most and I'm so proud of you for that."

"Yeah, it's been non-stop. But that I hate that it's keeping me from being there for you on your special day."

"Honestly, you being so busy doesn't take away from the fact that you've made it special already," you shrugged, smiling at him, "And I know whatever you have planned for tonight will be just amazing, so stop being so hard on yourself!"

"About that," he smirked before continuing, "Make sure to be ready at 7. I'll pick you up."

"Whatever you say, handsome," you rolled your eyes with affection, "As long as I would love to stay here, I know you have to go back to work."

"Shit, I do," he said realizing that crew members were already looking for him, "Happy Birthday again, my love. You're amazing."

ending kinda sucked lmao i hope u like this bday anon happy bday

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dearharriet · 10 months ago

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could i request james potter x reader where james discovers reader’s small “j.f.p.” tattoo on her hip and he’s like !!! obsessed :D<3 ofc only if u feel like writing it love u 🦌

this is such a cute ideaaa !! ty for the request my darling, I hope you’re well! (wc: 860) (cw: non-sexual nudity)

You’d gotten it while James was away on a trip with friends. Not exactly a whim-of-the-moment thing, but neither was it entirely planned. You knew you wanted him on you somewhere, sometime, and then Marlene asked you to accompany her for a septum piercing…

The rest fell into place. There was a small postcard in your pocket that you’d pulled from your mailbox, with James’ scratchy handwriting detailing his excursions and how much he missed you. At the bottom, he’d signed his initials, and that was what you gave the artist for reference.

There was a week of marveling at it afterwards, tracing over it with your fingertips every time your shirt lifted and wondering what James would say. If he had come home a couple days earlier, you might’ve gone with your heart and shown him right away, but he didn’t.

So when James barreled through the door of your shared apartment, towing bags and gifts, you stayed silent.

The two of you had dinner, sat down for a movie that you didn’t watch. James described the whole trip and rubbed your feet and told you he missed you. You knew you couldn’t keep the tattoo a secret, but you couldn’t will yourself to bring it up, either.

Later in the night, when only your bedroom lamps were on anymore, James came back from the shower in a skimpy towel wrap.

“Babylove, I don’t think getting dressed is in the cards for me tonight.”

You were laying on the bed, one arm under your smooshed face and the other hanging limp over the side.

James went to the dresser, smiling at your drowsy eyes and kicking feet. You murmured something like ‘good’ before he dropped his towel.

“Yeah, good,” he teased, tugging a pair of boxers on.“‘Cept I think we oughtta even the playing field here.”

Curiously, you flipped onto your back to see James better. He was in the middle of crawling onto the bed, hands and knees on each side of your legs.

“What are we evening?”

At your waist, James smiled up at you, hands leaving the bed to sweep under your night shirt.

“Oh,” you breathed, and then lifted your arms and allowed him to tug it off. You glanced furtively to the waistband of your sleep shorts, catching the sliver of ink peeking out of the top before James’ hands were there.

“Y’okay bird?”

Looking up, you met James’ careful eyes, nodding your express approval. His lips twisted, and then his needling fingers retreated from your shorts to soothe up your waist.

“Yeah? Sure?” he asked, and you put your hands in his hair to reassure him, somewhat pressed for words. “So quiet.”

“Sorry,” you managed, hands venturing over his shoulders. “Just missed you.”

You felt the truth of that curling in your belly, and James must’ve seen it on your face. Smiling wide, he swooped in to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “You too.”

A second kiss on the opposite cheek, and then he was back to business undressing you.

You sucked a breath in as the elastic pulled and slid down your hips, and the whole mass of scribbles caught light. James’ eyes were on your face, your hair all fanned out, but when he sat back to toss the shorts they traveled south and—

He froze. You can’t say for how long, but it felt an eternity, your breath held tight in your chest. When your body caught up with itself and exhaled, James’ name tumbled out with it, questioning and nervous.

His eyes flicked up to you for less than a second, a sliver of acknowledgment before he’d glued his eyes on the tattoo again. Something was swimming behind his expression, and you couldn’t gauge if it was bad or good.

“Jamie,” you said again, squirming, “please say something.”

With one finger, James traced the loops and turns of his own handwriting on your skin, swallowing dryly.

“Baby,” he finally spoke, a cloying ache in his voice. “Baby.”

Finally catching your gaze again, James just gawked at you with the awe of ten men. He was touching you, absently, reverently, which you figured was a good sign.

Not quite knowing what to say, you let him work out his thoughts, staying very still.

“This is real?” You nodded, and James’ lashes fanned over his cheeks as he gave it yet another look. Then, with a spoonful of disbelief he asked, “When?”

Hips shifting a bit under him, you said, “while you were away. It’s from your letter.”

“I know what it’s from,” James assured you. “I just can’t believe…”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, beckoning James’ attention.

“If you don’t like it, Jamie, I really want you to tell me. I won’t be offended.”

James shook his head ardently.

“I really love it, bird. Really truly. I just can’t fathom how lovely you are.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from cheesing, and James’ lips curled up too, a mirror of yours.

“Though,” he said, finally settling himself on top of you, “if I’d known that’s where my signature was going, I’d have signed my full name.”

thank u for reading! xx

#james potter #jams <3 #marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #marauders fluff #james fleamont potter #james potter blurb #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter drabble #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter #request

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m1ckeyb3rry · 6 months ago

Text

Synopsis: You find yourself developing a crush on mischievous soccer player Eita Otoya. The only problem? Eita and relationships don’t exactly go hand in hand — which is something you’re only all too aware of, considering he just so happens to be your best friend’s older brother.

BLLK Masterlist | Karasu Version

Pairing: Otoya x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 12.9k

Content Warnings: crack fic, otoya is a red flag let’s not lie to ourselves, he’s lowkey ooc at the end, reader says ‘i can NOT fix him’ but then accidentally manages to anyways, otoya plays video games but sucks at them, otoya’s younger sister is given a name (look at that word count LMAO i’m not calling her ‘otoya’s younger sister’ the entire time), std jokes, your honor eita otoya IS a loser

A/N: yes this is based off the song “best friend’s brother” from victorious. yes this is probably the dumbest otoya fic you will ever read (i promise i’ve written him better before). yes this is four times longer than it was supposed to be. idk what to say either i just get carried away LMAO

On the first day of your first year of middle school, you were told by your teacher to sit next to an entirely disagreeable looking girl. Her round face was adorned with a scowl, and there was a scrape on the bridge of her nose. She had silvery hair cut in a choppy bob, and blunt bangs streaked with green covered her forehead. When she noticed you staring at her in surprise, she made a face at you.

“What do you want?” she said.

“I’m supposed to sit here,” you said. “Teacher said so.”

“Whatever,” she said with a scoff. You gave her an uneasy look as you set your things down beside her, sliding into your chair and watching her out of the corner of your eye. If she noticed, she did not care, gripping her pencil in her hand so hard it was a miracle it did not snap in half, her scowl deepening as she looked over the introduction sheet you all had been given to fill out.

“I’m Y/N L/N,” you offered meekly, not wanting to accidentally offend her. She seemed like the kind of girl you really shouldn’t mess with, not if you wanted to keep your life and limbs intact.

She glanced at you. “Seiko Otoya.”

“Nice to meet you, Otoya,” you said.

“Seiko,” she said firmly. “Nobody calls me Otoya ‘cause I have two older siblings and it’s confusing.”

“Ah, but neither of your siblings are here, so it wouldn’t be confusing,” you pointed out before you could stop yourself. Seiko gave you an annoyed look.

“So what? Everyone’s been calling me Seiko since I can remember, so if you try to get my attention by saying Otoya I won’t realize,” she said. “What’s your problem with it?”

“I don’t have a problem,” you said, pulling out a pencil of your own and filling out your introduction sheet. Your handwriting was ten times nicer than Seiko’s, you noticed — she had a messy scrawl that was barely legible, especially when compared to your neat print.

“That’s great to hear, L/N,” she said, shoving her arm over her paper so you couldn’t look at it any longer. “Quit copying me.”

“Of all the assignments to copy on, do you really think I’d pick this one? It wouldn’t even make sense, since all of the information is about ourselves. See, this one asks about our families,” you said, tapping your eraser against the question you were referring to. “It’s not like I would write that I have two older siblings, because I don’t, even though you do.”

Seiko scoffed, puffing her cheeks out and turning back to her work with a pout. “Fine.”

You had been hoping that you’d befriend your desk partner, considering you didn’t know anyone at the middle school. All of your friends from primary school lived across town from you, so they were attending another middle school, which had the unfortunate effect of leaving you by yourself. Unfortunately, it seemed like you were out of luck when it came to making friends with the girl beside you, because Seiko was surly at best and downright hostile at worst.

When the bell rang to signify the end of the first half of the day as well as the beginning of the lunch break, you all but leapt out of your seat, speed-walking towards the cafeteria as fast as you could, eager to avoid another stiff conversation with Seiko. For her part, she rolled her eyes, taking her own time to gather her things and push in her chair, ignoring you completely all the while.

In your haste, you didn’t watch where you were going, and because of your shyly-ducked head, you ran straight into the back of a tall, heavy-set boy.

“What is wrong with you?” he snapped, spinning around to face you. He had close-cropped hair and thick brows, a narrow mouth pressed into a taut line, and a pinched, ruddy face.

“I’m sorry,” you said immediately.

“You made me drop my chocolate milk,” he said. “Apologize again, and give me money to pay for more!”

“Your chocolate milk is still in your hand,” you said quietly. He glared at you, and then, before you could react, he was unscrewing the cap and pouring its contents all over you.

“Like I said,” he said. “You made me drop it.”

“What — why would you do that?” you sputtered. You had thought that middle school would be much the same as elementary had been, only with different people, but this never would’ve happened, even just last year. You looked around wildly for a teacher, but there were none; though you were surrounded by laughing peers, you realized that you were alone in this hallway, completely and utterly alone. Everyone was laughing at you and milk was dripping down your once-white shirt and you were alone and things could not get worse.

The boy held out his hand. Things got worse. “Gimme your lunch money, freak.”

You stared at him blankly, tears welling in your eyes but refusing to fall. He tapped his foot, and slowly, when you understood that you had no choice, you reached into your pocket, fumbling around for the bit of change you had brought with you.

Suddenly, someone slapped your wrist lightly — in reprimand, and not hard enough that it hurt, but so that you were startled and ceased your actions immediately. Looking up, you saw it was Seiko Otoya, looking much the same as she had earlier, though her cheeks bloomed with a rose-colored flush as she jabbed a finger at the boy.

“Who do you think you’re messing with, huh?” she shouted, loudly enough that you were surprised no adults were alarmed. The boy’s eyes widened.

“Seiko?” he said. “I didn’t know you were—”

She let out a challenging war cry and then lunged at him. You gasped as she tackled him to the ground and socked him in the nose, looking entirely ridiculous all the while. It was like watching a chihuahua beat up a mastiff; Seiko was tiny compared to the boy, but vicious, not even giving him a moment to breathe as she rammed her fists into his face, over and over.

“Miss Otoya!” an authoritative voice said, cutting through the brawl. “What is the meaning of this?”

Your teacher stood before you, one of your classmates at her side. When Seiko did not move, she yanked her off of the boy, helping him stand and giving Seiko a stern look.

“He spilled milk on L/N and tried to take her lunch money, so I was just trying to give him a taste of his own medicine,” Seiko said with a shrug.

“You should’ve come to me, not taken matters into your own hands,” your teacher said, massaging her temples when she saw the state of your uniform. “Do you have anything to say to this young man?”

Seiko squinted at the boy, his bloody nose and shivering frame, and then she nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Go on, then,” your teacher said. Seiko placed her hands on her hips.

“I’m sorry—” she began. Your teacher nodded encouragingly. “—that I didn’t hit you harder. You could’ve gotten surgery and fixed that ugly nose of yours if I had actually managed to break it. I’ll do better next time, promise.”

The boy burst into tears. Seiko was sent to detention, giggling all the while. You were given a new uniform and the knowledge that there was at least this one person in the school who was on your side.

It was only natural that, after such an ordeal, you and Seiko ended up as fast friends. Her gruff exterior never softened any, but you found that she was kinder than she let on, and lonely in her own way.

“I learned that move from one of the wrestling matches my older brother likes to watch,” she explained to you a few days later. “I’ve been itching to try it out, so thanks for giving me the opportunity.”

“Itching to try it out?” you said in wonder, accepting the orange slice she handed you and biting into it.

“You know, I beat up 95% of the boys in my kindergarten,” she said thoughtfully. Despite the far-fetched number, you were inclined to believe her. “I’m kind of the opposite of my siblings in that sense. They’re both super popular, especially my brother Eita, but I’ve never been like that. I’m the sort of person that people generally stay far away from.”

“Well, I’m not staying far away from you,” you said.

“Right,” she said, cracking her knuckles with a smirk. “Who knows when that guy or his lackeys will come back to take revenge on you? You’ve gotta keep me around for a while, just in case.”

It was the best she could offer in terms of friendship, so you only smiled and said that you would.

You visited her house for the first time the following summer, during that part of the season when the days were long and faded into night so slowly that you could even fall asleep while it was still light out. She invited you in and then immediately tugged you after her, not bothering to offer an explanation, as was her way. You stumbled up the stairs, trying to keep pace as she whipped around a corner and knocked frantically on a shut door.

“What?” a muffled voice shouted from inside of the room.

“It’s Seiko, open up!” she shouted back. “I have to show you something!”

The door opened to reveal a boy. He was a year or so older than you and Seiko, with a delicate, handsome face and a slender, willowy build. His hair, which boasted the same strange coloring as Seiko’s, fell into low-lidded eyes that narrowed with irritation when they settled upon his younger sister.

“What is it?” he said. “I was in the middle of playing a game with my friends.”

“Look,” she said, placing her hands on your shoulders proudly. “You said you didn’t believe I had a friend, but I do, see? This is Y/N L/N, and she’s here to hang out with me!”

Her brother seemed unimpressed. “Did you have to rough her up a bit or something to get her to agree to it?”

“No!” Seiko said. “She actually likes me, right, Y/N?”

“Right,” you said, confused at what kind of argument you had accidentally found yourself in the middle of. “Um, Seiko’s my best friend at school, and she’s never beaten me up or anything, so…”

“Holy crap, you must be desperate,” he said.

“Hey!” Seiko said, kicking him in the shin. He winced and promptly slammed the door on your faces.

“You suck!” he said. “I have a soccer game tomorrow, so you’re lucky you didn’t permanently injure me!”

“I wish I had!” she said. “Come on, Y/N. He’s a jerk. Let’s go swimming. Did you bring a bathing suit? If not, you can borrow one of mine.”

“I have one,” you said. “Wait, so was that your older brother? The one who watches wrestling matches and all?”

“Yeah, that’s Eita. He’s in the grade ahead of us. I guess you could say we’re closer with each other than with our older sister, since she’s already finished high school, but to be honest, he’s dumb and mean, so we don’t get along very well,” she said.

“I picked up on that,” you said. “He seriously didn’t believe you had any friends?”

“No!” she said. “I told you back when we first met that he and our sister are super popular and I’m not, didn’t I? The thing is that he’s aware of that, too, and he always teases me for it, so when I told him I actually had made a friend, he acted like I was making it up. That’s why I took you to meet him, but he just had to go and be annoying about it! Ugh. I shouldn’t have expected anything else.”

“That’s the worst. Oh, and he plays soccer?” you said. She gave you a strange look.

“Mhm, why?” she said.

“Dunno,” you said. “Just wondering.”

Even you weren’t sure why you were curious about Eita Otoya. Your first interaction with him had hardly been memorable, and if anything you should really despise him for being rude to Seiko. But wasn’t it common for siblings to fight? That didn’t mean he was a bad person, did it?

Actually, it was irrelevant. You doubted you would see much of him, so no matter the quality of his character, he wasn’t someone you needed to be thinking of as anything more than your best friend’s brother. Resolving to push it aside, you spent the rest of the summer with Seiko by their pool, eating popsicles and playing mermaids and getting into splash fights and entirely ignoring whatever signs of her brother’s existence presented themselves.

In fact, until you and Seiko began high school, your path hardly crossed with Eita Otoya’s. He was always out with his friends whenever you came over, and the things he preferred to do had such little overlap with yours and Seiko’s interests that it was as if he did not even live in the Otoya household at all. Indeed, you saw more of their older sister, who was already in college, than you did him, and he became nothing but a vague thought in the back of your mind, only considered when you saw a random sock on their kitchen floor or a soccer jersey thrown across the back of the armchair in their living room.

All of this changed when you and Seiko became high schoolers and she joined the swim team. Her practice hours were long and irregular, which meant there were often times that you’d sit around her house, doing homework while you waited for her to come back. Some days she was only five minutes late; others, it was half an hour or more. It was frustrating, but it could not be helped, so you learned quickly that you should bring something to entertain yourself with if you dared to head to the Otoya household on a day she had swimming — which was every day, or so it seemed.

“Hey. You’re L/N, right? Seiko’s friend?”

You were pulled out of writing a history paper by someone speaking to you curiously. When you looked up, you saw that it was Eita Otoya, a brown paper bag in his hands and a friendly smile on his face. He set the bag on the counter and rummaged about in one of their cabinets, pulling out two plates while he gazed at you, waiting for an answer.

“Yes, I am,” you said, omitting the fact that you had been coming to his house for years, seeing no merit in bringing it up. “You’re her older brother.”

“Yup,” he said, emptying the contents of the bag onto one of the plates. “I can’t believe you’re doing homework at your best friend’s house.”

“She was supposed to be back half an hour ago, but I think one of her teammates pissed the coach off, so they all got held back again,” you said. “I figured I might as well be productive while I waited for her.”

“Smart,” he said. “Want some?”

He held up the plate filled with churros at you. You furrowed your brow, feeling entirely awkward — this was probably the longest conversation you had ever had with him, and certainly the only one you had had without Seiko present.

“Uh, sure,” you said.

“Good choice, these things are delicious,” he said, shaking his head as he heaped a generous portion onto the other plate. Pulling out the chair across from you, he handed you your plate and then sat down with a dreamy exhale. “I swear they put crack in them or something.”

“It’s possible,” you said, debating whether you should close your laptop before deciding you might as well. It wouldn’t do for your keyboard to get sticky with cinnamon sugar, and it would probably be rude of you to have it out while he was sitting with you.

You both were quiet for a while — you were too unsure of what to say to him, so you opted for silence, and he was distracted with eating his churros and texting someone on his phone. Maybe you should’ve kept your laptop open after all.

“Say, L/N,” he said. “If you were a girl—”

“I am a girl,” you interrupted him, somewhat put-out that he had forgotten that. He rolled his eyes and took another bite out of a churro, chewing and swallowing it before responding.

“Obviously,” he said. “You didn’t let me finish. If you were a girl who was dating someone, and they cheated on you, what would you do?”

“You could’ve just phrased it like ‘if you were dating someone, and they cheated on you, what would you do?’ You didn’t have to specify the ‘if you were a girl’ part,” you muttered. It was a childish thing to be hung up about, but for some reason it really irritated you to think that he thought of you as something other than you really were.

He cocked his head at you, like he was trying to discern whether you were really being serious or not. He must’ve decided that you were, for he chuckled. It was not quite condescending but bordering on it, and it did not improve your mood any.

“Alright, I’m sorry. That’s my bad. Well, if you were dating someone, and they cheated on you, what would you do?” he said.

“I’d be upset and break up with them immediately, duh,” you said.

“Why?” he said.

“What do you mean why?” you said incredulously. “Wouldn’t you do the same?”

“I’m not sure. No one’s ever cheated on me before,” he said with an impish grin, leaning over the table and snatching one of the churros off of your plate. “That’s why I wanted to know what you think.”

“No one’s ever cheated on me before, either. I’ve never even dated someone. That’s just the kind of thing where you already know what you’d do, though you hope it never happens,” you said.

“You’ve never dated someone? But you’re so pretty,” he said. You coughed, a bit of the churro that you had just swallowed sticking against your throat peculiarly at the compliment, which he had tossed out so casually it was as if he had just been commenting on the weather.

“Thanks,” you said. “Anyways, er, like I was saying — like I was saying, I wouldn’t stay with a cheater. Not ever.”

“That’s a shame,” he said, taking your empty plate, stacking it atop his own, and setting both in the sink. Running his hands under a stream of water so that there wasn’t any residue left on them, he shook his head. “It isn’t that big of a deal, you know. Like, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t mean anything?” you said. “Of course it means something. It means you don’t have any respect for the person you’re dating, and I wouldn’t want to be with someone who doesn’t respect me, so why would I stay with someone who cheated? Plus, I’m sure you’ve heard what they all say — once a cheater, always a cheater. If they did it before, they’ll do it again.”

“That’s not very conducive to a growth mindset,” he said, patting his hands dry on a red-striped dish towel.

“Maybe not,” you said. “But people who cheat can grow somewhere far away from me.”

“That sounds like my cue to leave,” he said with a two-fingered salute. “I used to wonder why you were friends with Seiko, but to be honest, I can see it now.”

Before you could ask him what he meant by that, he had left the kitchen, running up to his room, taking the steps two at a time. You were rendered absolutely bewildered, your sugary fingers and your unfinished essay and the two empty plates in the sink serving as the only proof that the conversation had even happened in the first place.

“Your brother’s really weird,” you said to Seiko when she got back, smelling faintly of chlorine, though you knew she had already showered at the pool. She cringed.

“Tell me about it. What did he do this time?” she said, pulling a large sweatshirt on, her hair sticking up every which way afterwards.

“He gave me churros and asked me what I’d do if someone cheated on me,” you said. She snorted.

“Sounds like him,” she said. “He’s kind of a serial dater, you see. He doesn’t tell me much, mostly because I’d be seriously grossed out by it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a cheater, too. Seriously, I don’t even know how we’re related. He’s the worst. I’d tell him to stop if I thought that he’d actually listen to me.”

“Oh,” you said.

“Don’t be so gloomy,” she said, elbowing you in the side affectionately. “It’s not like you’ll ever get with him, so why are you worried? I’d never let you date a cheater like that. Seriously, if you ever get a boyfriend—”

“If?” you said.

“You know what I mean. Anyways, like I was saying, I’ll beat him up if he cheats on you, whoever he might be!” she said, flexing her biceps, which were admittedly impressive, albeit hidden by the puffy sleeves of her sweatshirt.

“What if it’s your brother?” you said.

“Ew, why would it be him?” she said, pretending to gag. “Never date Eita. You deserve way better. He’s like a walking STD, probably. Just being in the same room with him is enough to give anyone herpes.”

“It was just a hypothetical question. And also, don’t you live with him? That’s nasty, do you have herpes, too?” you said. She ran her hands through her hair in a futile attempt to tame it; you reached into your backpack and pulled out a comb, tossing it at her.

“I’m immune because we’re related,” she said. “They only transfer if you have those kinds of intentions, so you’re safe for now, but I’m just saying, he’s a genuine health risk to be around. And to answer your question, yeah, I’d take any opportunity to punch him, so if he cheated on you I’d go at it doubly hard!”

“That makes it seem like I’m more of an excuse for you to mess with your brother than you actually wanting to defend my honor or anything,” you said.

“There’s a bit of both factoring into the decision,” she admitted. “Let’s stop thinking about it, though. I’m feeling itchy in places I should not be feeling itchy at just the prospect of you guys being together.”

“I didn’t need to know that,” you informed her. She stuck her tongue out at you, and the topic was, in turn, forgotten.

For some reason, though, you found yourself showing up at the Otoyas’ house earlier and earlier. Not enough to draw suspicion, but enough that you almost always had at least a couple of minutes there by yourself. Mr. and Mrs. Otoya had long ago grown accustomed to your presence and treated you more like another daughter than anything, so they didn’t find it strange, and Seiko’s older sister had recently moved into her own apartment nearer to her university, so she didn’t even realize that it was happening.

In fact, there was only one consequence to this newfound habit of yours: in the many moments before Seiko returned from her practices, you struck up a friendship with her brother, Eita.

Things were awkward at first, you couldn’t deny it. He didn’t have much interest in you, and in fact it seemed like he only entertained you because it would be even worse if he didn’t.

“Oh, you’re here again,” he’d say if he got back from soccer before Seiko came back from swimming. “No Seiko?”

“Not yet,” you’d say, a poster board or worksheet or laptop in front of you. “She should be back in a few minutes. We’re supposed to finish this project together.”

“I told her she should’ve picked soccer,” he’d say with a laugh. “We always finish on time.”

“Cool,” you’d say, because how else could you respond? He’d raise his eyebrows at you, and then, if he felt generous, he’d give you a churro. If not, he’d dart off to his room, mumbling some excuse about having to call one of his friends or something, which you never responded to, because it was mostly unimportant to you.

There wasn’t any huge reasoning behind it. Talking to Eita Otoya wasn’t particularly stimulating, and though you certainly found him good-looking, you wouldn’t go so far as to say you had a crush on him. Mostly, you found him to be a bit of an enigma, and if in figuring him out, you got a few churros out of it, then you supposed it was a fair enough deal, but it wasn’t like you were seeking out his company or anything.

Eventually, he seemed to warm to you a bit more, though you were still standoffish, Seiko’s warning ever-present in the back of your mind — the one regarding walking STDs and herpes and whatnot. You never brought it up with him, but that really was the cause of your shyness, not — not anything else. Definitely not anything else. Why would you be shy around him of all people?

“Hey, L/N,” he’d say nowadays, greeting you cheerfully and sitting next to you as you did your homework. “How’re things going?”

“They’re good, thank you,” you’d say, scooting away from him inconspicuously. Herpes. STDs. Genuine health risk. Oh, he smells really nice…

“I’m doing well myself,” he’d respond, despite the fact that you typically didn’t bother with asking. “Still no Seiko?”

“Nope,” you’d say with a sigh. “Still no Seiko.”

He’d wrinkle his nose. “Damn. Sorry to hear it.”

“It’s fine,” you’d say. “She’ll be here soon, and she’ll probably be full of complaints about her coach.”

“I’d stick around until then, but unfortunately, my PC is calling,” he’d say, or he’d give some other such goofy excuse that was obviously designed to pull a laugh out of you and usually did. “See you around, L/N.”

“Later,” you’d say. “Have fun with your PC.”

It was nice. You wouldn’t say you were close with him by any means — definitely not as close as you were with his sister — but the two of you got along. You didn’t know much about him, and you doubted he knew much about you, but you both could hold enough of a conversation that you began to actually look forward to spending time with him.

Only because he was oddly funny in his own way, and kind of sweet, too. It had nothing to do with how nice his laugh sounded or how bright his grin was or the way he spoke to you, gently but also mischievously. You didn’t even notice these things, not one bit.

“Y/N!” he said one Saturday, banging into the kitchen excitedly. At some point, you had indeed become Y/N to him, though you couldn’t quite place when that shift had occurred. “No Seiko?”

“She’s at a meet,” you said. “She told me she’d come back once she was done with her races, but she texted me a few minutes ago that her coach is making her stay for the entire thing, and she doesn’t know how long it’ll take. I thought about going home, but then I thought that, since I’m already here, I should just wait for her.”

“I’m surprised you’re not doing homework,” he said, hopping onto the counter, a box in his hands, ostensibly filled with churros.

“It’s Saturday,” you pointed out. “I did all of my weekend work yesterday so I could be free today and tomorrow. Seiko and I were supposed to have a movie marathon, so I didn’t want to be distracted.”

“Supposed to?” he said, wandering around his kitchen, taking out cutlery and plates with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

“Who knows when she’ll get back? Hopefully, it’s soon, but I’m sure you’re aware of how random the meet schedules can be, so we might run out of time to have a marathon proper,” you said.

“It’s like I always say,” he said.

“She should’ve picked soccer,” you completed for him. “What makes you bring that up today?”

“Our matches are timed,” he said. “No uncertainty there. Look, forget about that for a moment. I walked past this bakery on my way back from soccer practice, and they were having a sale, so I stopped in. I asked Seiko, and she said you like these. Is that true? Because if she was lying, I’m gonna kill her.”

Instead of churros like you had expected, he was holding a plate of cupcakes, frosted in pastel shades, crystal sprinkles glittering under the ceiling lights. They were beautiful, like little flowers or jewels, and you beamed as he put them on the table and waited for you to speak.

“No way!” you said. “Are these from that place by the park? I’ve been wanting to go there for ages, but their stuff is so expensive that I could never justify it. I can’t believe they had a sale! Thank goodness you happened to walk past. I would’ve cried if I missed my chance to try their stuff.”

“So, as a girl, you’re impressed by this?” he said as you unwrapped one of the cupcakes and shoved it in your mouth. You gave him a surprised look, your chin covered in icing, sweet cake filling your cheeks. He suppressed a laugh, handing you a napkin as you rapidly chewed and swallowed.

“What d’you mean?” you said.

“I’m trying something new,” he explained. “Buying flowers is kinda lame nowadays; plus, if I get cupcakes instead, then I can also have some, so it’s a win-win.”

“I see,” you said, dabbing at your face with the napkin.

“I thought I’d ask for your feedback, since you’re the only girl I talk to regularly. Besides Seiko, obviously, but it’s not like I’m going to ask my little sister about this kind of stuff,” he said.

“I’d say I was pretty impressed,” you said. “However, I would also say you shouldn’t mention that you got them on sale.”

“Of course I wouldn’t mention that to a girl I was actually interested in,” he said. “I just told you because I knew you’d refuse to eat them otherwise.”

“That’s true,” you said. “Buying these at full price would’ve been stupid in any situation, but especially so because it’s not like you’re trying to be nice to me or anything.”

“You make me sound like a villain,” he complained. “I still got them for you, didn’t I? Why does it matter what my reasons were?”

“Your reasons are kind of villainous,” you said. “You got them for me so I could tell you whether your new strategy for picking up girls was a winner or not.”

“I compensated you for your services!” he said. “What kind of villain would do that? By the way, is it? A winner, I mean.”

“I think so, but everyone’s different. It could work with one person and not another,” you said.

“Good enough for me,” he said, patting you on the head. You paid him no mind — not true, even the lighthearted touch made you feel all squirmy and strange — and pulled out your phone, which had just vibrated with a text.

It was Seiko, and you sighed as you read the message. Eita peered over your shoulder and then hummed sympathetically.

“Ooh, is that Seiko? Yikes,” he said.

‘now the coach is making us all go to dinner as a team :/ we can have our movie marathon another time?? sorry i made you wait and then stood you up.’

A second later, your phone buzzed again.

‘i feel like eita LMAO omg pls don’t slap me like his last ex did. i’ll make it up to you another time PROMISE!!’

You would’ve laughed, but you felt so discouraged by her earlier text that you could only muster up a half-smile. Eita gasped in offense when he read the second message, drawing back and sticking his nose in the air, folding his arms over his chest.

“I can’t believe she’s airing my business out to you like that,” he said.

“I can’t believe you got slapped by your last ex,” you said, though the words lacked the teasing bite that they should’ve had. He frowned at you.

“Are you just going to go home now?” he said.

“Guess so, since Seiko won’t be back until tonight,” you said. “Oh, well. At least I got cupcakes. I’m sure the girl that you stood up wasn’t so lucky.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he said. “No, she wasn’t.”

“And you claimed you weren’t a villain,” you said, shaking your head in disappointment. “See you later. Thanks for the cupcakes.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then, just as abruptly, closed it again. You arched a brow at him, but he only smiled at you.

“See you,” he said, putting the cupcakes back in the box and handing it to you. “Take these.”

“Don’t you want them?” you said. He had never given you the extras of anything he had ever bought before, preferring to keep them so he could eat them later that night or for breakfast the next day.

“Nah, I got them for you, so you should keep them,” he said. “Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime,” you said, your fingertips brushing against his as he handed you the box. A burst of static electricity shocked you, and you bit back a hiss as you accepted it from him, not wanting to seem whiny when he hadn’t even reacted.

“Hold on,” he said as you made your way to the door. “Listen, if she stands you up again, I’ll watch the movies with you.”

“Really? They’re not your genre, so I’m sure you’ll be bored,” you said.

“You don’t even know what my genre is,” he said.

“Maybe not,” you said. “I’ll take you up on that, then, so I hope you meant it.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t,” he said.

“You’re not half-bad, you know,” you said thoughtfully, tucking the box under your arm so you could unlock the front door. “Seiko always calls you mean, but you’re pretty nice.”

“If she was half as agreeable as you, I wouldn’t have to be mean!” he said. “It’s way easier to be nice to you than anyone else, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what he meant by that. What even were you to him? Just his little sister’s best friend, or something different? Were the two of you genuinely friends, or were you just the girl he asked for help with his stupid relationships that never lasted for longer than a week? Did he like you? Did you like him? No, of course you didn’t. This was Eita Otoya. You could never like him, not if you valued your friendship with Seiko or the well-being of your heart. You didn’t like him. You didn’t, you didn’t, you didn’t.

“That’s good,” you said finally. “Thanks again.”

“Bye,” he said.

“Bye,” you said, and with a final look at him, you let the door swing shut and turned towards your home.

The next day, you got up early so that you could make it to the bakery before they ran out of their best wares. Eita hadn’t specified how long the sale lasted, and if there was even a chance that it was still ongoing, you wanted to take advantage of it.

Thanks to the odd hour, there wasn’t a line outside of the bakery, and you felt confident as you walked into the warm, dough-scented building. It was airy and bright, flowers and sweets in the windowsill, the display cases well-lit and stocked with a multitude of desserts. Plants hung from the ceiling, and the pale wallpaper was covered with floral motifs, small birds perching amongst the blooms. The bakery itself was so beautiful that you almost forgot what you were there for until one of the employees cleared her throat.

“Can I help you, miss?” she said.

“Hi!” you said. “A friend of mine mentioned that you were having a sale yesterday. Is that still happening?”

“A sale? We don’t do sales here, I’m afraid. Is it possible that they went somewhere else?” she said.

“No, he specifically said the place by the park,” you said, furrowing your brow. “Are you sure you didn’t happen to have a sale?”

“Positive,” she said. “I was working yesterday, too, so if you describe him, I can let you know if he came or not.”

“He’s about this tall,” you said, holding up your hand at approximately Eita’s height. “Plays soccer, silver hair with a green streak—”

“Yes! He came in right around lunchtime yesterday and bought cupcakes,” she said. “Um, is he single, by any chance?”

“As good as,” you said. You had no idea what the state of his romantic life was, but considering how quickly he jumped from girl to girl, there was almost no point in saying that he was taken. “If he ever comes back, feel free to make a move on him. He’d probably appreciate it. Moving on, do you mean to say that he got those at full price?”

“He would’ve had to,” she said. “Like I said, we don’t do sales. We’re not that kind of establishment.”

“I might faint when you answer this, so please be slow and careful when you do, but how much, exactly, is full price for what he bought?” you said. “Out of curiosity.”

She told you. You did not faint, but it was such an exorbitant number that, for a moment, you really thought you might.

The next Saturday evening, you went to the Otoyas’ with a wad of cash in your hand. Seiko and her parents were away the entire weekend for an invitational meet, but for once, she was not the one you had gone to visit, so this was of little consequence to you.

You rang the doorbell and waited with crossed arms, the humid air oppressive against your skin. According to your weather app, it was going to rain soon, and you pursed your lips at the thought that Eita might not be home and you’d get caught in the downpour with nothing to show for it.

Luckily, the door opened, revealing him standing there in a pair of shorts, his hair still damp and a towel around his neck. You focused very hard on pretending like he was wearing a shirt, even though he was not, and it worked well enough that you could just barely greet him properly.

“Y/N? Hey, I’m sorry you walked all this way, but Seiko’s not home. Did she forget to tell you she’s gone for the weekend?” he said.

“No, I’m here for you,” you said.

“Huh?” he said.

“Not like that! I mean, I went to that bakery, and the girl working there told me they never have sales, which means you paid full price for those cupcakes. That’s insane! I can’t accept that,” you said.

“So, what, are you gonna vomit them out at my feet or something? That sounds gross, please don’t,” he said.

“I’m paying you back,” you said, extending your hand and offering him the money. “Don’t even think about refusing. I already feel horrible.”

“No way,” he said. “It was a present. You don’t pay people back for presents, that’s like a faux pas or something. I think. Er, I’d have to look it up to be certain, but I’m pretty sure it’s frowned upon.”

“I didn’t even do anything present-worthy, so why would you give me one?” you said.

“Yeah, you did. You helped me out, remember? Gave me advice and all,” he said.

“That was hardly worth all of this!” you said. “Seriously, at least take a little bit.”

“Nah,” he said. “You should come inside.”

“For what?” you said. “Seiko’s not here.”

“True, but I feel bad that you walked for nothing, so it’s the least I can do,” he said.

“It wasn’t for nothing. It was to pay you back, which I will do, and after that I’ll go home,” you said.

“Doubt it,” he said. “Come on, it’s going to rain soon. If you get sick and blame me for it, my sister will kill me.”

Reluctantly, you followed him into the kitchen, hyper aware that you both were alone. It had never been like this before; always, someone else had been in the house, whether his mother or father or one of his sisters. You shouldn’t have cared that it was just the two of you, but you found that you did. It was as uncomfortable and strange as the turbulent skies and muggy atmosphere, but also pleasant in a way, like the sweet smell of yeast in a bakery or flower petals dusting against the crackled tops of sugar cookies in a windowsill.

“Do you like Super Smash Bros.?” he said, taking the towel and rubbing his head vigorously, giving him the frazzled appearance of a hedgehog, or perhaps an electrocuted cat of the cartoonish variety.

“It’s fun, but I’m not that good. Seiko usually beats me,” you said.

“We can play, if you want,” he said.

“Okay?” you said. “Why?”

“I’m just trying to think of things that we can do, since you’re here and all,” he said.

“What were you planning on doing if I didn’t come?” you said.

“I was going to go on a date,” he said.

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you actually had plans! I should leave so you can get to that,” you said. He waved you off dismissively, already turning the console on and connecting the controllers.

“It’s fine, I already canceled on her. Hopefully she gets the hint. If I have to spell it out to her that I’m not interested anymore, it’ll be annoying,” he said.

The TV flashed with the starting screen, the music blaring as you sat on opposite ends of the couch, remotes in hand. Outside, thunder rumbled ominously, and you thought that you should probably send your location to your parents so that they didn’t get worried. While Eita messed with the settings, you did that, receiving affirmative responses from both of them in turn — which made sense, as neither of them knew that Mr. and Mrs. Otoya, along with Seiko, weren’t home.

“Do you care what map we use?” he said.

“Seiko and I usually just go random,” you said. “So whatever you want is fine.”

“Random is the best,” he said. “Especially when you get the interactive maps that actively try to kill you. It’s way more exciting that way.”

“Exactly,” you said. Half of yours and Seiko’s matches were decided based on who could adjust to the map faster; sadly for you, this was frequently your best friend, and only very rarely you.

“What character do you play? I know Seiko likes Palutena, so probably not her, right?” he said.

“I only ever play as girl characters, but my favorite is Zero Suit Samus,” you said, clicking on her and changing her outfit so that it was the burgundy version.

“You only play as girl characters? Why?” he said.

“It’s the best way to bond with your avatar. If you can’t connect with your character, then how can you hope to win?” you said.

“Are you for real?” he said. You maintained a straight face for as long as you could before breaking into laughter.

“Obviously not. I just like playing as characters I think are pretty, since I don’t have much of a chance at winning either way,” you said.

“That makes sense,” he said. “I play as Sheik. He’s based off of a ninja, so it makes sense.”

It was your turn to give him a strange look. “What?”

“Because we’re descended from ninjas and all, so I have to stick with the theme. It’s like the Otoya brand,” he explained.

“I got that part,” you said. “What do you mean by he, though? Sheik is a girl.”

He paused right before clicking on Sheik, his eyes wide. “No way. He’s obviously a guy.”

“Not so,” you said. “I looked up a list of all female characters in Smash when I was trying to pick a main, and Sheik was on it. She’s Princess Zelda’s alter-ego, apparently.”

“Are you messing with me again?” he said.

“No, not this time,” you said. He mulled this over before shrugging and clicking on the character’s icon anyways.

“Whatever,” he said. “I’m used to her, so there’s no point in changing. Besides, it doesn’t really matter if she’s a girl.”

“Very true,” you said. “Alright, I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Be prepared,” he warned you as he pressed the start button and the screen switched to a countdown. “I’m not going to go easy on you.”

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you said. “Considering how frequently I’m pummeled by your sister, I’m used to losing.”

“Good. Get used to it more,” he said, immediately starting off before you could even orient yourself on the map. “Bang! Gotcha! You really are bad at this.”

“Just as an aside, the TV makes sound effects, so you don’t need to add more of your own,” you said, wrinkling your nose and dodging out of his next attack.

“It makes it more fun,” he said. “You should try it. Really helps you get in the zone.”

“Hm,” you said. “I’ll leave it to you.”

Somehow, you and Eita were actually evenly matched, and during the final round, you knocked his character off of the edge, guarding it until he couldn’t hope to recover and fell to his defeat.

“Yay!” you said as the victory screen showed your character posing. “I haven’t won in ages! This is awesome.”

“Rematch! You only won because you’re one of those dirty edge guarders!” he said, already setting up the next game.

“‘Dirty edge guarders?’ That’s how the game is played,” you said.

“Nuh-uh, it’s against the rules,” he said. “Isn’t it?”

“No? There aren’t really rules in Smash. How do you not know this? Also, you should really stop saying things when you don’t even know if they’re true,” you said.

“My older sister would always tell me it was against the rules when we used to play,” he said. You waited for it to dawn on him; when it did, he groaned and facepalmed. “She was full of shit?”

“I’m afraid you were, in fact, duped,” you said.

“No wonder she always beat me,” he grumbled. “Whenever I was close to winning, she’d say whatever I was doing was against the rules.”

“That would do it,” you said. “I don’t mind playing again, though.”

“This time I’ll beat you for sure,” he said. “Now that I don’t have to abide by any bullshit guidelines.”

The two of you got wrapped up in a series of matches, eventually turning on the random character selector as well as the random map selector, refusing to read the tutorials so you were really going into things blind and figuring it out as you went. You had way more fun than you had expected you would, and as the evening went on, any thoughts of feeling self-conscious vanished from your mind. It was just Eita Otoya, after all. He was only your best friend’s older brother, the one who brought you treats and played soccer and sucked at Smash and had a childish sense of humor. There was no reason to feel shy. Well, besides the fact that he had never opted to put a shirt on, but that was a non-issue when your attention was focused solely on the screen.

You weren’t sure how many rounds you had gotten through when his phone rang, so shrilly and insistently that he was forced to pause the game and take the call. He didn’t leave his spot on the couch, though, which meant you were able to observe him as the girl on the other end began to scream.

“How could you cancel on me at the last minute?” she said, loud enough that you could hear her, though his phone wasn’t on speakerphone.

“It wasn’t that hard,” he said. “I just texted you and said I’m not going.”

“You’re such a piece of shit. I thought — I thought everyone was wrong about you, but they weren’t. They weren’t at all,” she said, her voice cracking.

“I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that they were,” he said. “Listen, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now, so could you hurry up and say what you want to say?”

“Did you ever even like me?” she said.

“Yeah, at first,” he said.

“Not anymore, though,” she said.

“Guess not,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Is that it? You’re ending things just like that? Didn’t it mean anything to you? I bragged to all of my friends about you! You were so sweet, and you even got me cookies…was it all just a game?” she said.

“It wasn’t a game,” he said. “As I said, I liked you back then. I wouldn’t have done all of that if I didn’t.”

“Because that’s supposed to make me feel all better,” she said.

“I’m just explaining myself,” he said.

“You’re the worst. You’re — just, you’re the worst, ugh!” she said before hanging up. Eita made a face at the phone and then put it facedown on the table beside him, unpausing the game without a wasted moment.

“They were from the grocery store,” he said after a bit.

“What?” you said.

“The cookies I got her. Grocery store variety,” he said.

“Oh. That’s kinda shitty,” you said.

“She seemed pretty happy about them regardless,” he said. “I wasn’t about to waste my money when I knew it wouldn’t last.”

“You wasted your money on me,” you pointed out. The corners of his mouth quirked up.

“You’re Seiko’s best friend. I’m pretty sure you’re not going anywhere, so it’s not a big deal. Consider it a peace offering for not believing you were real at first,” he said, landing a combo attack on your character.

“That was ages ago,” you said.

“It’s downright traumatizing for a person when others don’t think they’re real. Fucks up their psyche and whatnot. Acknowledging my mistake was the least I could do,” he said.

“Another fact you just made up?” you said.

“Maybe,” he said. “Was it plausible?”

“Not in the slightest,” you said.

“I tried,” he said. “Woah, nice one, Y/N.”

You had just hit his character in a series of successive blows, entirely by accident but to devastating effect. He lost his first life, respawning in and jumping back to the offensive.

“Why do you even do it?” you said, finally vocalizing the question that had been bothering you for almost the entire time that you had known him.

“Do what?” he said.

“Date people, when you know you’re going to break up with them so quickly,” you said. “What’s the point?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, the glare of the screen reflecting in his fern-colored irises. “It’s always fun at first. I meet a pretty girl, and I talk her into giving me her number. We go on a date or two, and I think it might actually be different this time, but it never is. By the third or fourth date, I’m bored beyond belief and dreading going on another. Then we break up and I do it all again.”

“That sounds exhausting,” you said.

“Near the end, it is,” he said. “But it’s pretty amusing in the beginning, so I don’t see a reason to stop.”

“Do you cheat on your girlfriends?” you said. You knew for sure what he would say, but still, you wanted to hear it from him.

“What is this, interview-Eita-day? Yeah, I have in the past, but only a couple of times,” he said. “Both of them were when the relationships were on their last legs and I couldn’t be bothered to care anymore.”

“That’s callous,” you said. “You should’ve just broken up with them.”

“Dumping girls is the worst. They get all upset and start crying, and I know I should feel bad because I’m the reason, but by that point, I just want to go home,” he said. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“A little bit,” you said. “For the most part, though, I just don’t understand. Why do you keep going for people you know you’re going to get tired of?”

“It’s not like I can look in the future and see that I’m going to end up bored,” he said. “It just happens. We run out of things to talk about and sit there in silence. It sucks. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“How does that even happen?” you said. “You talk all the time with me. I didn’t think you were capable of running out of things to say.”

“That’s different,” he said. “I’m not worried about impressing you — no offense — and you’re funny, plus you like some of the same things as me, so it’s easy to have a conversation with you. It’s not the case when you’re going out with someone. You’ll understand when you decide to date yourself.”

“Don’t the girls you go out with like the same things as you?” you said.

“Not really,” he said. “They think video games are for losers, and they’re too scared to go on the rides at amusement parks. Some of them understand soccer, but not to the point that it’s something they’d want to talk about frequently.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” you said. “You’re only going out with people who you have zero shared interests with. It’s normal that you’d get bored of them, and that they’d get bored in return.”

“You’re thinking too much about it,” he said. “It’s not that deep.”

“That’s how it works,” you said. “Quite fundamentally, actually. It’s impossible to build a relationship with someone when you both have nothing in common. In fact, it’s unfair to all involved parties.”

“Are you trying to give me advice?” he said.

“Depends. Will you take it seriously if I do?” you said.

“Not sure. It’s kind of ridiculous for me to be listening to my little sister’s friend about this kind of thing,” he said.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you said.

“True,” he said. “Go ahead, then.”

“What do you even look for when you’re thinking of dating a girl?” you said.

“How hot she is,” he said. You waited for him to elaborate. He did not.

“That’s it?” you said.

“Pretty much,” he said.

“Why?” you said.

“Why not? Isn’t physical attraction important?” he said.

“To a certain extent, yes, but after a while, less and less so,” you said. “Haven’t you ever watched any romance movies? ‘It’s what’s on the inside that counts.’ Physical attraction alone isn’t enough in the long term.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “So what do you suggest?”

“Are there any girls you genuinely enjoy spending time with? Not romantically, just because you like talking to them, even if they’re not the prettiest or whatever,” you said.

“I don’t really spend time with girls unless I’m trying to date them. It never works out. They always end up liking me, and besides, it makes my girlfriends mad if I’m friends with other girls,” he said.

“You seriously have zero female friends,” you deadpanned.

“And just how many male friends do you have?” he shot back.

“None,” you said. “Okay, fair enough.”

“Wait, no, I guess we’re friends,” he said. “Yeah, you’re cool, Y/N. I mean, you’re pretty as well, but I don’t really think about that part much because you’re friends with Seiko.”

“Thanks,” you said. “You’re cool, too.”

“Now what? You’re a girl, and I like talking to you. Where do I go from there?” he said.

“I was going to say you should try dating one of those girls instead, but obviously that’s not applicable here,” you said.

“Ah,” he said. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m all that unique,” you said, taking advantage of his distraction to win another match. “It won’t be that hard for you to find someone else that you like hanging out with, and then you can just date them. Hopefully, you won’t get bored with a relationship like that.”

Eita didn’t respond. You doubted he knew how to and you were glad for his silence, because you yourself felt embarrassed that you had tried so hard to help him. Since when had you been the kind of girl who wanted so badly to give people guidance? He had his problems, no one could deny that, but why did you care about them? Why did it matter to you if he was happy, or if he grew out of whatever phase he was currently in?

Maybe it was because you knew he could be better. The caricature of him that you heard about, from Seiko and from the rumors around your high school, contrasted so harshly with the Eita Otoya you knew. People loved him because they wanted to be him, to have that effortless and selfish attitude towards life, but you didn’t think that very many of them took the time to understand him.

You doubted anyone at school knew that he was horrible at Super Smash Bros., or that he was entirely gullible and liked to make other people laugh. How many of them would find him admirable if they knew of his addiction to churros and diet sodas? He wasn’t cool or charming or suave the way he pretended to be. At the end of the day, he was nothing but a dumb boy blessed with a handsome enough mien that had fallen into a crowd which demanded more of him than he honestly should’ve had to give.

Putting this protectiveness down as a symptom of your friendship with Seiko — of course you cared for her older brother, he was a part of her family and you cared about her, it only made sense — you noticed that there was a lull in the storm. Bidding Eita farewell and shoving the money into his phone case when he was preoccupied with turning the game off, you ran home before it could begin to rain again, blaming your queasiness on the fact that you had not yet eaten dinner and nothing more.

“Eita’s been talking about you a lot,” Seiko said to you at lunch one day, a couple of weeks after the evening you had spent with her brother. Both you and he had mutually agreed not to bring it up, and Seiko was none the wiser, or at least so you had thought.

“What do you mean?” you said. She took a sip out of her juice box.

“Nothing bad. He just asks me how you’re doing and stuff,” she said.

“That’s not that weird. Why’d you bring it up?” you said. For a moment, you had thought she meant that he was asking about you for a different reason, but this just sounded like a typical and general concern.

“It’s a little weird. He doesn’t typically care about how other people are doing. The other day, he asked me when you’re coming over again, since according to him it’s ‘been a while.’ Like he’s keeping track or something!” she said.

“He’s not wrong. It has been a bit,” you said.

“I know, I know,” she said. “Season’s almost over, and then I’m all yours.”

“You don’t have off-season workouts?” you said.

“Fuck off-season workouts,” she said. “I’ll skip on the days we plan to hang out. My coach won’t say anything. I’m the star of the team, so he has to live with it.”

“You’re the best,” you said.

“And you’re trying to change the subject!” she said. “Are the two of you buddy-buddy now or something?”

“Or something,” you said. “We’ve just spoken a few times while I was waiting for you to come back home from practices.”

She narrowed her eyes at you before nodding slowly. “Look, just so you know, I don’t mind if you’re friends with him or anything.”

“That’s good. I’ll keep it in mind,” you said.

“He’s my brother, after all. I like knowing that my best friend is getting along with my family,” she continued.

“I get along with your family so well that I’m surprised they haven’t started calling me Y/N Otoya yet,” you said.

“But I want you to be aware of what kind of person he is,” she said with a note of finality. “He might do something that hurts your feelings.”

“You’ve told me. Many times, actually,” you said.

“And I don’t want you to stop being friends with me if he does,” she said. “Okay?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” you said. “You’re my best friend in the entire world.”

“You promise?” she said, in a rare show of vulnerability.

“Promise,” you said. She punched you in the arm, returning back to being the Seiko you knew.

“Good. Then do what you want with him,” she said.

“What?” you said.

“Just saying! You deserve better, obviously, but I won’t turn down a chance to have you as my sister-in-law,” she said. “Besides, he knows that if he messes with you, I’ll take your side, so that might be an incentive for him to stay on the straight and narrow.”

“Seiko! It’s not like that!” you said. “I don’t have feelings for him. He’s your brother.”

“Whatever you say,” she said in a sing-song voice, taking another sip of her juice box, obviously done with the discussion.

She knew you better than you knew yourself. That was what happened when a person was best friends with another for years upon years, and that was why she understood even before you did what it was that was brewing between you and her brother, what had been brewing since long before that evening where you had finally noticed a palpable shift in your dynamic.

Exam season began shortly afterwards, so you didn’t have the time to go to the Otoyas’ when you were so wrapped up in studying. Then, once exams were finished, Seiko was finally freed from her grueling practice schedule, leaving her to be, as she had said earlier, all yours. This meant that even when you did go to their house, you were solely there to be with her, and so you saw little of Eita, barely speaking to him beyond exchanging pleasantries.

Sometimes you wondered how he was doing. Had he found a girl he actually liked and ended up dating her? How was that relationship going, if so? Or was he still continuing as he had been, chasing whoever he found the most attractive and then running away from them when things inevitably didn’t work out? You hoped that that wasn’t the case, though you didn’t find the former option all that appealing, either. You should’ve, because it would’ve meant that he had taken your words to heart, but you didn’t. The thought of him dating anyone was wrong and weird and you didn’t like it, but because you weren’t quite sure why that was, you decided to avoid both the feeling and its cause alike.

Halfway through summer break, on a day when your parents were on a business trip and Seiko was visiting one of her cousins in the city, Eita Otoya showed up on your front porch, knocking on the door furiously until you opened it. He was just about the last person you had expected to be standing there, red in the face and panting for breath, wearing a sweat-soaked jersey, hair sticking to his forehead and a white box in his hands.

“You look horrible,” you said.

“I ran all of the way here,” he said. “After my soccer game.”

“What for?” you said.

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” he said.

“I was just at your house the other day,” you said. “Jeez, you look like you’re about to pass out. Let me get you some water. You really could’ve walked, you know…”

He had never been to your house, so he trailed after you dutifully, sitting at the dining table and gulping down the glass of water you offered him within seconds. Taking it back, you refilled it and gave it to him again.

“You were there for Seiko, not me,” he said.

“She’s my best friend,” you said. “Obviously I was there for her.”

“And what am I?” he said.

“Not that,” you said.

“I should be upset, but for some reason, I’m kind of glad that you said that,” he said. “I don’t want to be your friend.”

“Rude much?” you said, his words stinging. “Is that all you came here to tell me? If you don’t want to be friends, that’s fine, but was there really a need for you to come to my house and announce it? How’d you even get my address?”

“Seiko told me,” he said.

“In hindsight, I should’ve seen that coming,” you said.

“I haven’t dated anyone,” he said, all in a rush, the sentences tumbling out of his mouth like he was not sure if he’d ever get the chance to say them again. “Not since that night that we played video games together.”

“Seriously? If I ask Seiko, will she confirm that?” you said.

“Of course! I’m a lot of things, I know that, but I’m not a liar. I’ve never tried to hide who I am, especially not from you,” he said.

“Well,” you said. “That’s good, then. I’m proud of you.”

“I’ve tried finding the kind of person you described,” he said. “Someone like you. You said it would be easy, but it’s not. It’s really fucking difficult.”

“Maybe you should look harder, then,” you said, rolling your eyes and placing his empty cup in the dishwasher before you forgot about it. “There’s no way I’m the only girl in the entire city that you can bring yourself to genuinely like.”

“You’re the only one I want to like,” he said. You froze in the middle of putting dish detergent in the dispenser, giving him an incredulous look.

“I’m what?” you said.

“I get that you probably don’t feel the same way. To be honest, I didn’t even realize that I did until Seiko yelled at me about it, because it’s not like it usually is. I want to spend time with you, as much as possible, even if we’re not doing anything but eating snacks or playing games. I want to listen to you talk, even if it’s about something that I think is boring. I want to buy things that’ll make you happy — the nice versions, not the kinds from the grocery store, because I don’t want to imagine that it won’t last. I want it to last,” he said.

You stared at him, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Of all the things he could’ve said, that was the most unlikely. What was it about you that made you so different, that the ever-fickle and brutally honest Eita Otoya was driven to such a confession? You knew he wasn’t making it up, because he was right — he never did. Not once had he ever tried to mislead a girl about who he was, and you sensed that this was much the same. The problem wasn’t that you didn’t believe him. It was that you simply couldn’t understand.

“I don’t get it,” you said.

“What do you mean? What else am I supposed to say?” he said. “I like you. I think I have for a while now. At first, I thought it was just because you were my sister’s friend, but according to her, you normally don’t feel this way for the friends of your siblings.”

“You’ve been talking to Seiko about me?” you said. Suddenly, the side comments she had been making recently made a lot more sense.

“Who else would I go to? It was humiliating, asking her for help, but you guys have known each other for forever, so I figured it was the best option,” he said.

“That’s true,” you said, starting the dishwasher and pushing it shut. “Wow. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“If you’re going to reject me, don’t worry about it. I didn’t tell you all of that because I was expecting you to say yes. I just wanted you to know that — that I did take what you said into consideration,” he said.

“I’m glad you did,” you said. “It must’ve been weird, following the advice of your younger sister’s best friend.”

“You’re more than that,” he said. “You’re more than just Seiko’s friend to me. You’ve been more than that for a long time now.”

“Why me?” you said. “Why is it me, and not one of the hundreds of other girls that would jump at the chance to fix you, to be the one who finally got Eita Otoya to settle down for good?”

“It’s that bratty little sister of mine’s fault,” he said. “Because of her, you kept showing up, and by the time I noticed, it was way too late. At that point, I was already asking her what your favorite desserts were, just so I could get them for you.”

“I see,” you said.

“Besides, being with someone who wants to fix another person sounds awful. Do you want to fix me?” he said.

“If you expect me to, then you should probably just leave,” you said. “I don’t mind helping when I can, but the only person that can fix you is you.”

“Exactly,” he said. “You mentioned once that cheaters can grow somewhere far away from you.”

“Hm? Oh, I did say something along those lines, didn’t I? That was over a year ago, though,” you said, thinking back to that random conversation, unsure of why he even remembered it.

“I’ve done it,” he said. “It was hard, but I’ve done it anyways. For you, but also for myself. I’m not so sure that the highs are worth the lows anymore, and besides, I hate doing things I don’t like, and dating around is becoming one of those things.”

“Is that so?” you said. “I’m glad you realized that.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too. Uh, I should probably go now, so…here. For last time. You shouldn’t have paid me back. Don’t even think about pulling something like that again.”

He opened the box, revealing an assortment of cookies, all the different kinds you liked. You didn’t need to ask him to know where he had gotten them from, and you admired them as he stood and pushed in his chair.

“Thanks for hearing me out, Y/N,” he said. “And don’t worry, I won’t make things uncomfortable, so feel free to visit Seiko whenever. I’ll stay out of your way when you come over. She doesn’t have any other friends, so don’t ditch her just because of me.”

“You’re pretty self-important, aren’t you?” you teased. “Did you think I’d give her up just because of you? Not likely. Anyways, why would things be uncomfortable?”

“Usually it’s pretty unpleasant to have to be around someone when you know they have unreciprocated feelings for you,” he said.

“I don’t think they’re unreciprocated,” you said. He quite literally paused in his tracks, foot still raised in the air as he spun to face you.

“What? You should’ve said so earlier!” he said. “Do you mean I was acting all angsty and emotional for nothing?”

“I wanted to make you suffer a bit,” you said. “I mean this gently, but you deserve it.”

He hung his head. “You’re not wrong.”

“I’ve liked you for a while as well, though like you said, I hardly understood it myself, and I didn’t have the benefit of Seiko drumming it into my mind — mostly because that’s not the kind of conversation you really want to have with your best friend about her brother,” you said. “I also knew about your reputation, and no matter how wonderful I found you, I was a little wary, so I never gave it much thought.”

“But now?” he said.

“I mean, it’s kind of hard to reject a guy who runs to your house with cookies and a dramatic speech about how much he likes you,” you said.

“When you put it like that, I sound like a loser,” he said.

“I want you to consider that you play Super Smash Bros. in your free time, and that you are obsessed with anything ninja or Naruto related, and then I would like for you to repeat that statement with the same indignation you just said it with,” you said. He huffed in defeat.

“That’s fair enough,” he said.

“Like I said, I do like you, but I’m not in the business of fixing people. The second you start getting bored or wanting to cheat on me, break up with me, and be an adult about it. Don’t run away. Just be honest, and for my part, I’ll hold back my tears until you’ve left, alright? If you can swear you’ll do that, then I don’t mind trying,” you said.

“You’re way too nice to me,” he said.

“I can add in more demands, if you’d like,” you said.

“Now, I didn’t say you had to do that,” he said. You chuckled.

“I thought you were really serious about me, though?” you said. “Since you mentioned it, I do have one more condition. Say yes, and I’ll be your girlfriend. Say no, and…you better get back to searching.”

“What is it?” he said eagerly, grabbing your hands and holding them in between his own. “I’ll do anything.”

“You have to be the one to tell Seiko,” you said. He paled.

“You wouldn’t,” he said.

“Just did,” you said. He scrunched up his face in thought, obviously imagining his sister’s reaction. Though she had given both of you her blessings in her own way, there was no doubt in your mind that she’d give the two of you a hard time — especially him, considering the fact that she already did that without even having a reason to.

“I’ll do it, but you have to come along,” he bargained. “Someone has to nurse me back to health once she’s through with me. It might as well be you.”

“You’re in no place to be asking for things,” you said.

“Please?” he said. “She’s scary as hell, and I’m saying this as someone who regularly plays against guys big enough to become pro wrestlers.”

“Alright, alright,” you said. “I’ll come with you, and I’ll put bandages on all your bruises.”

He grinned at you. “Deal.”

“Deal,” you said.

“Then I guess you’re my girlfriend now,” he said.

“I guess I am,” you said.

“Nice,” he said. “Wanna play Mario Kart?”

You snorted. “Why not?”

So you sat down on the sofa — next to each other this time, not on opposite sides, your head leaning on his shoulder and his thigh pressed against your own — and you did just that.

“So let me get this straight,” Seiko said. Eita, who had just delivered the news, was attempting to hide behind you, which was a largely ineffective method of disguise. “You two are officially dating.”

“Pretty much,” you said, when it became obvious that Eita was too petrified to respond. It was funny — he talked such a big game when it was just words, and he was the first to make fun of Seiko, but as soon as the prospect of a fight came up, he cowered away, as any smart man would.

“Interesting,” she said. “Eita, come here. I just want to say something.”

He shuffled out towards Seiko, head bowed and hands clasped together. “Yes?”

“If you ever hurt even a cell in the bodies of the mites that live on her eyelashes—”

“What the fuck?” you said. “That’s disgusting. Thanks, Seiko, now I’m going to be scrubbing my eyelashes for the next week.”

“Don’t worry about it, everyone has them. They’re normal,” Seiko said. “Like I was saying, Eita, if you mess with her, I’ll kill you. Forget about sibling loyalty; it all goes out the door on that day, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he said.

“Good,” she said, nodding in satisfaction. He looked around like he was searching for a camera, obviously in disbelief that she had let him off so easily.

“Is that it?” he said.

“For now,” she said. “Ask me again in a few months and the answer might change.”

“I’ll take it,” he said. “Well, see you later. Let’s go upstairs, Y/N.”

“What? Y/N and I have plans to bake together tonight!” Seiko said.

“No way, we’re watching TV together! I’m going to make her watch all of Naruto!” he argued. In unison, they both turned to you, waiting for your response, waves of hostility rolling off of them.

“Oh, boy,” you said, already feeling a headache coming on. “This is going to be a lot more annoying than I anticipated.”

#otoya x reader #otoya x y/n #otoya x you #otoya eita #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #best friend’s brother au #best friend’s brother fic #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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bitchimasnake-sss · 1 year ago

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"forgive me one last time" ft. the monster trio!

headcanons of highschool!au monster trio as your boyfriend begging for forgiveness after fucking shit up :) m.list

luffy:

- "yn" he mumbles, trailing after you in the hallways "stop trailing me" you hiss as you open the locker, shoving the books inside and taking out another "yn" his hands are wrapping around your waist, his neck finding home in the crook of your neck and he's whining again, "please forgive me, pretty please?" - it wasn't even like you got mad often tbh; dating luffy meant he is gonna do stupid shit and you're gonna have to deal with it but there was a limit to stupid shit too - you shove his head away from your neck, "romilda fuckin' asked you, "wanna go watch a movie??" and you said yes. how can you say yes to a date while you have a girlfriend?! do i mean nothing?!" "i didn't know it was a date!!" his hands are wrapping around you tighter, "i thought she was lonely and wanted to hangout with a friend!! you know i wouldn't have said yes otherwise ynnn~" "are you an id-" you huff, "i'm getting late for class, get off" you forgave his dumbassery on the regular but come on, now its insane - yeah you didn't forgive him - not until you came back to keep your books and take new ones for the next period and saw giant "i miss you" and "sorry" glittery stickers plastered onto your locker (did he steal those from a 3rd grader? youre not sure) - you huffed, opening the locker - your jaw went slack - the entire locker was full of your favourites. your favourite candy, the cookies sanji always makes during christmas (how did he get those rn??), your favourite soda and flowers - how did he manage all that in the time span of one period??? - at the side is a note in a scrawly handwriting, "you wanna go watch a movie with me? (asking you for a date, not as a friend who wants to hangout) boyfriend :)" - you ended up forgiving him only after he bought he a bucket of popcorn and kissed you during the end credits of the movie - he also had to buy you dinner from the baratie like a gentleman.

zoro:

- "zo," you huff, "it's like the thousandth time, ofcourse im gonna be fucking mad at you!" "i know" he groans, "i really know, but i'm sorry, please" "no. you can't keep saying you'd show up for my events and then fuckin' disappear like always!" - you're fighting in hushed whispers in the hallway, you didn't wanna cause a scene because you know how bad zoro finds public attention - you know he's busy training, busy with his friends and you know he loves you but a part of you wonders if he simply doesn't actually love you - he constantly fails to show up at your events, he has never outright called you his girlfriend in front of people who weren't his close friends and he has never even held your hand in public because he says pda makes him uncomfortable - you got him but it simply sounds like he's afraid to admit you both are together - "are you not happy with me?" your voice is breaking, crumbling into silent heaves, "do not lo-" "what?" his hands find yours, "no, ofcourse not. baby, i just had another practice and dad (mihawk) called me back home. im sorry, i couldn't say no to him" "i know b-" - he kisses you - in the middle of the fucking hallway, with other people around - he does it. that bastard. - his hands are tucking your hair behind your ear, resting softly on your cheek as he tip you backwards and kisses you till you cannot possibly breath "i love you" he says loud enough so that anybody within earshot could hear, flashing you a small smile his voice comes down to a whisper, "i'm sorry i suck at being a good boyfriend, i will get better okay?" - he follows through on that promise because the next time, he is standing at your event with a tshirt just reading "yn is the coolest" and a small, stupid smile on his face "was the tshirt necessary?" "yes" - ugh i love soft zoro

sanji:

- sanji had a (bad) habit of always backing you up - one might wonder what's bad about that but when he almost beat the shit out of a random guy for saying he didn't like your vibes - "sanji!" you pull him away, eyes widening, "stop it" "but yn" "you cannot keep doing this! you cannot keep fucking putting up a fight against anybody who doesn't like me-" "yes i can" "sanji." - it ended up leading to a fight and you stormed off into the class - you expected sanji to come apologize the very next period or atleast text you or something - but nothing. you didn't see him for the rest of the day. - not until it was 9 pm and all of a sudden, a cheesy pop song was playing outside your window and in your front lawn stood a drenched, blonde guy holding up a boombox and a giant wet, white sheet reading "FORGIVE ME YN IM SORRY PLEASE I LOVE YOU" - first of all why was he drenched? it wasn't even fucking raining - that brings your attention to his two best friends, luffy and zoro holding a hose at him from a distance (luffy is giggling, he's having the time of his life, zoro looks like he hates being alive) - "sanji why are STANDING IN FRONT OF WATER?!" "SO THAT YOU FORGIVE ME, MY LOVE IM SORRY" "YOU'D CATCH A COLD, COME INSIDE IDIOT!!" - well, he did bring a box full of home-made chocolate though, so you cannot be mad at him for long - did this event stop him from being a bit over-bearing? no, not really but eh, that's sanji for ya

a/n: cutesy little headcanon lol thankyou so much @scentisterror for helping me with this <3<3 m.list

#one piece #op #opla #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #sanji x reader #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #one piece headcanons #op headcanons #monster trio #one piece fluff

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decentwritings · 1 month ago

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Chapter 4

Summary: At twenty-six, you never expected your life to look like this: a veteran, a college dropout, now running drugs to cover your late father’s debts. The military took you away for a brief moment, but now you're back in your hometown, keeping family at a distance to keep them safe. Your simple plan to clear the debt, one job at a time, unravels the moment Mabel steps into your life.

previous part <--> next part

The diner gives off the same energy you get from the beach—warm, familiar, and buzzing with the chatter of regulars and clinking dishes. You feel a sense of relief wash over you as the door closes behind you, the chaos of the outside world fading for a moment. The smell of your uncle's cooking greets you like an old friend, grounding you.

Rudy waves you over from behind the counter, his grin wide and welcoming. "If it isn't my favorite niece! And Mabel! Come sit!"

You smile at Rudy's loud enthusiasm, but your mind still lingers on the distant pops you heard before. Mabel tugs on your sleeve, guiding you to a booth by the window. She's already chatting away, but you glance outside for a split second, keeping a watchful eye on the street.

"Hey," she says, her tone soft but insistent, pulling your attention back to her. "You with me?"

You nod, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just... keeping an eye out."

Jodie comes over with some water, smiling at how close you two are. You can already tell she has a few things to say just by the look on her face.

"I see you finally got her to let her guard down," Jodie says as she sets some utensils on the napkins she sets out. You purse your lips into a thin line, exhausted by this conversation already. "She's like her mother in that way."

You sit back, rubbing your temples when you hear Mabel chuckle.

She senses your discomfort so she shrugs. "I get the whole having your guard up," she bumps your shoulder with her gently. "But I showed her it's okay to relax around me."

You wish that were true, but right now, you're more on guard than ever—just not towards her. Your eyes keep scanning the diner, examining every person, every potential threat. You hate it. You hate not being able to fully relax around her, not showing her the side of you that she deserves—the dorky, carefree version that you know is buried somewhere under all the layers of vigilance.

Jodie hums, happily and almost dreamily. You raise a brow at her and she gets the hint. She raises her hands up in mock surrender then excuses herself. She tells you Rudy is whipping up a special specifically for you two, leaving you two alone.

Mabel pulls a journal out of her bag, something you've seen her do twice since you've met her. The first time at the beach after you avoided her for a couple days and now. The journal looks worn out, crinkled at the edges and you wonder if the journal was in the bag that fell in the water.

Mabel glances at you, noticing your gaze lingering on the worn-out journal. She flashes a small, almost sheepish smile as she flips it open. "You curious?"

You shrug, but you can't help the slight raise of your eyebrows. "I mean, yeah..." you admit, shrugging again. "I suck at writing. I was always envious of people who were able to transfer their thoughts onto paper easily. And handwriting wise–I mean, I have chicken scratch for handwriting," you tell her, scoffing at yourself.

She chuckles softly, thumbing through the pages before stopping at a blank one. "It's nothing deep. Just a place for me to jot down thoughts, random ideas—sometimes things I want to say but can't."

You nod, trying to imagine her sitting down to write after the beach or in moments when you're not around. "It looks like it's been through a lot."

She glances at the worn edges, smiling. "It has. It was in my bag when it fell in the water. Got lucky though, most of it survived." Her fingers trace the cover as if she's remembering something.

You're tempted to ask more, but instead, you lean back and offer her a genuine smile. "It suits you. Mysterious, a little beat up, but still standing strong."

Mabel laughs, shaking her head as she looks down at the journal. "I'll take that as a compliment." She pauses, then adds, "Maybe one day I'll let you read some of it... if you're lucky."

Your smile widens, and a warm feeling stirs in your chest as you realize just how much Mabel trusts you. She's offering you a glimpse into her inner world, a place where her most personal thoughts and ideas live.

Then it hits you; the trust she has shown you. Yet you haven't shown her not even half of the trust she's shown you.

"You know I trust you, right?" you say, voice suddenly quiet, glancing at her. Mabel raises an eyebrow, her expression curious but kind. "I trust you, really, I do." You're not sure if you're trying to convince her or yourself.

"Of course. Why wouldn't you?"

You shrug, forcing a smile. "I just hate that I can't turn it off sometimes." Her head tilts, confused by your words. "I feel like...like I'm not here. I want to be present, really be here with you."

Mabel tilts her head, her eyes searching yours. "You are here with me," she says softly, her hand finding yours under the table. "Even if you're keeping an eye out, I know you're still with me."

Her words bring you a sense of calm you weren't expecting, a reminder that even if you're cautious, she sees through the armor.

You feel relief wash over you, her words sinking in. They say the transition to civilian life is difficult and you wanted to prove that wrong but you find yourself proving it right more times than not. To know that Mabel has some sort of understanding about it settles your nerves a little. You can protect her, be on guard, while not having to worry you're making her feel unwanted.

It's hard to let go of the instinct to always be on alert, but with Mabel, it feels like there's a part of you that can start to relax. She's patient with you, understanding in ways you didn't expect, and that makes you want to give her more of yourself—more of the version you want to be around her.

"Thank you," you say, your voice low but filled with sincerity. "I promise you, I'm trying. I want to be here. With you."

Her hand squeezes yours, twice and you glance down at your intertwined fingers. You nod in understanding, no words shared anymore, and allow her to write in her journal.

Just as the moment settles between you, Rudy appears from the kitchen with plates in hand, breaking the tension. He gives a knowing look as he places your food on the table. "Special order for two."

You both dig in, with Rudy taking a seat to join you. He starts to talk and takes advantage of times you have your mouth full to tell Mabel embarrassing stories. You can only glare, defending yourself after you've swallowed what's in your mouth.

In the end, you both have a great time. You enjoy hearing Mabel's laugh, seeing her smile and feeling the lightness of the moment. It's a simple thing, sharing a meal and listening to stories, but it feels like a step forward—a step towards the peace you've been chasing.

As the meal winds down, Rudy excuses himself, leaving you and Mabel alone once more. She's still smiling, her fingers tracing the rim of her water glass absentmindedly, and you take a moment to just watch her. You realize that in this moment, surrounded by the sounds of the diner, with her laughter still echoing in your ears, you feel more present than you've felt in a long time.

You lean back in your chair, feeling something shift inside of you, a sense of gratitude for her patience and the ease she brings to your life. For the first time in a while, you let yourself just be—right here, with her, and nowhere else.

\\\\\\

Days pass, and you and Mabel are practically inseparable. She joins you at your nephew's field day, laughing as she cheers him on louder than anyone else. You watch her out of the corner of your eye, her enthusiasm infectious, making you smile more than usual. She fits into your world so seamlessly, like she was always meant to be here. She cheers you and Devin on in the three-legged race and cheers him up when you guys wind up in third place.

Then comes the last day of school. The two of you stand outside the building, waiting for your nephew. When the bell rings, he runs straight to Mabel, throwing his arms around her in excitement before even greeting you. You roll your eyes, pretending to be jealous, but deep down, you're glad they've bonded so easily. He hops into her car and practically begs her to go fast; because she's infamous for her driving.

Mabel laughs, ruffling your nephew's hair as she buckles him in. "I'm not getting in trouble with your aunt today," she teases, glancing at you with a playful smirk.

You cross your arms, shaking your head. Your nephew looks at you, arms crossing in a way that reminded you of your sister.

You look between them. "I'm not liking this duo...I feel outranked." You frown, earning a laugh from Mabel.

Devin pouts, slumping in his seat. "You're no fun," he mutters, but it's clear he's just teasing. He can't help but grin when Mabel cranks up the music, and soon enough, he's singing along, his earlier disappointment forgotten.

As you drive back home, you find yourself watching them interact in the rearview mirror, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

When you pull into your sister's driveway, Devin hops out of the car and races inside, yelling something about showing Mabel his latest toy car. He claims it can go as fast as Mabel's car. You chuckle, shaking your head at his excitement, but then your heart skips a beat when you notice a familiar car parked in front of the house.

Your mom.

"Shit," you mutter under your breath, suddenly remembering she had planned to stop by today.

Mabel glances over, noticing your tension. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just... forgot my mom was coming over," you admit, rubbing the back of your neck. "She doesn't know you're here."

Before you can say anything else, your mom steps out of her car, already waving as she approaches. There's no backing out now.

"Faro!" she calls, then her eyes immediately land on Mabel. Curiosity flickers in her expression, but she smiles warmly. "And who's this?"

You clear your throat, suddenly feeling like a teenager caught sneaking someone into the house. "Mom, this is Mabel."

Your mom's smile widens, and she looks between the two of you knowingly. "Mabel." She says it like she's testing the name. Mabel nods, smiling at your mother shyly. "Well, it's nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you." She raises an eyebrow at you as she says this, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

It's a lie. You've never mentioned Mabel to anyone except your aunt and uncle. They only know because they've butt into your personal life.

Mabel, to her credit, handles the situation smoothly, shaking your mom's hand with a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you too. Faro, here, has told me some great stories," she laughs, glancing at you.

You sigh quietly, hearing Mabel use your nickname making you... feel different. You've never minded the nickname, but Mabel had always called you by your name until now. You like hearing her say it. Now, you only think of the nickname as something you once were—a version of yourself from before everything changed, before you met Mabel, before life started feeling more complicated. It doesn't bother you, but it belongs to that past self, one that doesn't quite fit anymore.

You want to be that person again.

Mabel's use of the nickname stirs something inside you that's hard to explain, even to yourself. Mabel notices the subtle shift in your expression. Her brow furrows, like she's tempted to ask, but instead, she offers you a small, reassuring smile—one you're starting to understand more and more.

Your mom gives you that look—you know the one—the one that says she'll be grilling you about this later, but for now, she's on her best behavior. "Well, had I known you were coming, I would have brought more stuff to cook," She waves toward the bag of groceries she brought, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

You clear your throat, realizing you hadn't planned to stay for dinner. You only meant to hang with Devin until your sister got home.

"Umm, ma," you start but she cuts you off, like she knows what you have to say.

"Nope," she shakes her head and grins. "I'll go in and get set up after I check on that little monster," she laughs, leaving no room for you to argue.

Mabel attempts to follow your mother but you grab her hand gently, halting her movements. She looks back at you, curiosity filling her eyes. Your mother, with that extra mother sense, glances back at you both.

"There a problem?" She raises a brow.

You clear your throat awkwardly. "You need more ingredients, she needs more ingredients," you say to Mabel, and she laughs at your flustering mess of a speech. "We're gonna go get some more ingredients for you. We'll be–"

"Ahh," your mother wiggles a finger at you, shutting your idea down. "You can go. Mabel, come with me, I want to show you how to make the most popular Peruvian dish," your mom finishes, already pulling Mabel toward the house with a wink thrown in your direction.

You blink, left standing there as Mabel gives you a playful, helpless shrug before following your mom inside. You know exactly what's happening here—your mom is trying to get to know Mabel in her own way, and by the looks of it, Mabel's more than willing to humor her.

As you stand there, it hits you how quickly things have escalated. If the kiss is the start of a relationship, then technically, you and Mabel have only been together for a week. And she's meeting your mom already?

Mabel meeting your mom wasn't on the agenda today, or even for the next month and half she's here. But here they are now, bonding over dinner prep. You feel a strange mix of pride and nervousness. Part of you wants to storm in there and interrupt, but another part knows this is good. Maybe it's time to let your worlds mesh a little more, even if it feels like it's happening too fast.

You rub the back of your neck, chuckling to yourself as you glance toward the door. You can already hear your mom's laughter inside, and Mabel's responding with something you can't quite make out.

It's strange, hearing those two get along so naturally, but it also fills you with warmth. With Erin, it took your mother some time to even acknowledge her as your girlfriend. Your sister claimed she was being protective of her baby but you knew it was because your mom didn't think Erin was a good fit for you. She had been polite, sure, but it was clear your mom kept her distance. Things felt different with Mabel already. Your mom's openness, her immediate warmth toward Mabel, caught you off guard, and maybe that's why it feels like it's happening so fast.

Maybe, just maybe, you've found something real with Mabel, something that fits into your life in ways you hadn't expected.

A couple minutes pass and Mabel sneaks out of your sister's house for a second. You assume she managed to convince your mom to let her go but she tosses you her keys, and you catch it with your jaw dropped.

"Drive safe," she calls out then returns back into the house. You blow out a huff, shaking your head at her actions. Seconds later, her head pops out again and your hopes are up again. "Your mom said to buy limes–okay, bye!"

You stand there, keys in hand, still processing what just happened. Mabel's playful energy and the ease with which she's won over your mom leaves you stunned. You can't help but laugh, a mix of disbelief and affection bubbling up inside you.

Shaking your head, you hop into Mabel's car and start the engine. As you drive toward the store, your mind races, replaying the day's events. It's like everything is happening faster than you ever planned. But, at the same time, it doesn't feel wrong. It feels... right.

There's a comfort with Mabel that you can't quite put into words. Like all the pieces are finally falling into place.

When you arrive at the store and park, your thoughts are filled with Mabel, as they have been since you first met her. In the corner of your eye, you spot a familiar black van with some faded lettering on it. A chill runs down your spine, but you quickly shake it off, dismissing it as a coincidence. You don't want anything to ruin the warmth you feel today, so you rush to grab the items on your list, your mind focused on getting back to Mabel and your mom. You head inside, scanning the aisles with a distracted smile. Everything feels light, but a flicker of unease brushes against your subconscious.

You dart through the produce section, tossing a few limes into your basket, and then head toward the checkout. As you wait in line, your thoughts drift back to Mabel, imagining her laughter and the way her eyes light up when she's excited.

"Glad I caught you in person."

You furrow your brows and turn to see Nick standing there, appearing out of nowhere. You hadn't even noticed him before—lost in your thoughts, you hadn't scouted the store before going about your shopping.

"Nick," you say, forcing a smile. "Doing some shopping?"

Nick chuckles, but it sounds humorless. "Sure," he replies, clicking his tongue as he gestures toward the line that's moved up. You take a step forward, and he isn't far behind. "I got tired of your one-worded messages. And you've managed to dodge my calls pretty well. I got patience, but... to a limit." He grits out the last part, the tension in his voice rising.

You grip the basket's handle tightly, searching for more self-control, trying to ignore the unease twisting in your stomach.

"There's a tradeoff going on tonight at the usual place," he continues, lingering close behind you as the line shifts again. "One of the guys from the docks can't make it, and the other... well, he's a shitty liar, so he's out of commission until his hand heals."

You whip your head back, your heart racing as you try to hide your worry. You hope to God it's Charlie's hand that's broken and not Costa's. Not that Charlie deserves it but Costa is the least deserving of the two.

"Be there at eleven, or if rumors are true..." he lowers his voice, stepping closer to you, his breath brushing against your ear, "Mabel's face will be covered in bruises again."

A chill runs down your spine at his threat, and you take a shaky breath, forcing your expression to remain neutral. How does he know her name?

His lips quirk into a smirk. "Yeah," he drags out, almost giddily. "Mabel isn't a stranger to this world. She knows how things work. As do you. You know how things work in our world. You owe me, and I expect you to fulfill your end of the deal."

Your jaw clenches. You don't care how well Mabel may know of this world. She isn't part of this and you're not going to let them force her back in it.

"I'll be there," you say, narrowing your eyes as you fully turn to face him. "But if you go anywhere near her, I swear–"

"Swear what?" Nick interrupts, leaning in with a condescending grin. His eyes trace your face and his smiles widens. "You're cute when you're mad. But you have no leverage. Pay your idiot of a father's debt by doing what we ask, and if you do it right; no one gets hurt. Cool?"

A mix of anger and dread bubbles inside you. He nods, taking your lack of response as an answer of agreement. You turn back around and move up the line, noticing you're up next to checkout.

"Be happy it's just your girlfriend," Nick says still right behind you. "Had Mabel not showed up, it would've been your mom, sister or that little rugrat of a nephew–man, that kid is adorable." He laughs gently.

Your experience with the military is unknown to him. You're unsure if threats would be less if he knew. What you do know for sure is if he knew you were military, he would use that as an advantage. Oliver is military and they clearly use him to their advantage, so you can only imagine how Nick would spin your past to manipulate you further. The thought sends a cold wave of anger through you. You tighten your grip on the basket, fighting the urge to turn around and confront him again.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't test my patience if I were you," you say, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

Nick chuckles softly, as if he finds your bravado amusing.

You step up to the cashier, scanning your items quickly and trying to focus on the mundane task at hand instead of the threat looming over you.

"I'll see you at eleven," he pats your back, harsher than any man should push any average person. Lucky for you, you're not average. He earns stares with his actions but he doesn't pay any mind to it. "Don't be late." He winks, taking an apple you had on the conveyor belt.

Your heart races as you finish checking out, your mind racing with possibilities. You can't let Mabel or your family become collateral damage in Nick's twisted games.

As you leave the store, you take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in your head. You need a plan. Knowing your mother, she plans on talking Mabel's ear off until the late hours of the night. You hope you can get out by ten, have Mabel home by ten-thirty and be at the place by eleven.

You hop into Mabel's car, your heart still racing from the encounter with Nick. The thought of that apple in his hand irks you—an innocent gesture that feels loaded with intimidation. You shake your head, trying to focus on the road ahead.

As you drive back home, you mentally rehearse your plan. Your mother can talk for hours, but if you time it right, you can slip out before Mabel gets too comfortable. You glance at the clock on the dashboard—only a few minutes have passed since you left the store, but it feels like an eternity.

When you arrive home, you find your mother in the kitchen, excitedly chatting with Mabel about the dish they're preparing. The aroma of spices fills the air, mixing with the sound of laughter, and for a moment, the warmth of the moment makes you forget about Nick.

"You got the limes?" Your mother breaks you out of your stupor. Mabel's eyes are on you and you can tell she sees something is off about you. Either you're easy to read or she's just caught on to how you try to pretend everything is okay when it really isn't. You realize you left the groceries in the car so you excuse yourself to get them.

You're grabbing the stuff from the backseat when you see Mabel join you outside. She walks over to you, quiet and tentative, treading carefully as to not trigger your fight instinct.

Mabel stands in front of you, her eyes scanning your face for answers. She's always had this ability to see through the walls you put up, and today is no different. You can tell she's waiting for you to say something, but you're not sure where to start. You close the car door, trying to mask the tension you're feeling, but it's no use.

"What's going on?" she asks softly, taking a step closer. "You've been off since you got back."

You exhale, looking down at the bags in your hand as if they'll give you an excuse to avoid the conversation. But Mabel isn't going to let it go, not this time. Her voice is gentle but firm, and you know she won't let you keep avoiding the truth.

But you don't want her in this. Not after what Nick said. The less she knows, the better it is for her.

"Just saw an old friend," you lie with a shrug, forcing a smile.

Mabel narrows her eyes, clearly not convinced. She knows you too well to fall for a half-hearted answer like that. You have to be easy to read; which is shameful. You were trained to hide any sort of emotion. But it's like Mabel sees right past that. Her lips press into a thin line as she studies your face, searching for the truth you're holding back.

"An old friend?" she repeats, her voice calm but with an edge of skepticism. "And that's why you've been acting weird ever since you came home?"

You swallow hard, trying to maintain your composure, but it's difficult under her gaze. She steps closer, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Weird? I just forgot the bags in the car," you shoot back, furrowing your brows.

Mabel nods, still not convinced. "Who was this friend?"

You still, fumbling with the bags in your hands. "Umm," you fumble with a lie. "A guy from an old job," your words comes out like a question, which doesn't help you.

"Old job?" Mabel arches a brow, stepping closer. "What old job?"

Your heart skips a beat as the lie begins to unravel. You can't tell her about Nick or the threat he made. Not when she's already too close to the fire. You avert your gaze, trying to focus on anything but her piercing eyes.

"Just a guy from a side job I did before," you mutter, shifting the bags in your hands to avoid her scrutiny. "Nothing important."

Mabel's expression hardens. She knows you're deflecting, and her patience is running thin. "Why do I feel like you're not telling me everything? You're acting like there's more to it than that."

You clench your jaw, frustration boiling inside. She's right—there's so much more, but you can't risk dragging her into this. Not with Nick's threat still hanging over your head. "Mabel, just drop it, okay? It was an old friend; he's a dick, and I don't like the guy."

Mabel's eyes narrow, clearly not satisfied with your answer. Her frustration is starting to show, but she takes a deep breath, trying to keep calm. "A guy you don't like, from a job you barely remember. And that's why you're acting so weird? That doesn't add up."

You're better off starting a fight than telling her the truth. Nick called her your girlfriend, and technically, she isn't.

"Why are you bombarding me with questions? It's not like you're my girlfriend," you scoff, walking past her, not missing the stunned expression on her face.

Mabel's face hardens, the hurt flashing in her eyes before she quickly masks it. She's not one to let emotions show easily, but you can tell your words stung.

"Right," she says, her voice cold. You turn to look at her, guilt troubling your stomach at the hurt expression on her face. "I'm not your girlfriend. So I guess I don't have the right to care about you, or to ask questions when you're clearly upset."

You pause, guilt creeping in as you realize what you just said, but before you can respond, Mabel steps back, distancing herself from you.

"Give me my keys."

Her words hang in the air, and you feel the weight of them pressing down on your chest. You didn't mean to hurt her, just shut her down, but now you've made things worse.

"Wait, Mabel, I'm sorry–"

"Look, I get being guarded, but have I not shown you that I'm here for you?" Mabel interrupts, her voice steady but tinged with frustration.

She's better at controlling her emotions than you are. Maybe you should have stayed in college. Maybe you have been more emotionally mature if you had.

She's staring at you, her arms crossed tightly, waiting for an explanation you're not sure you can give. "I've been patient, giving you space, but this—this is different."

You run a hand through your hair, the guilt and frustration mixing with the growing pressure of Nick's threats. "It's not like that," you say, your voice quieter now. "I just... I'm trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" Mabel repeats, her tone incredulous. "By pushing me away and lying to me? How does that protect me?"

You don't have a good answer. Not one that will fix the way she's looking at you right now, as if you're slipping further away from her.

"I don't want you involved in something you don't deserve to be a part of," you admit, voice low.

Mabel's eyes soften, but only slightly. "I can take care of myself. You don't have to shut me out. But I'm not going to stick around if this is how you're going to deal with things."

Her words sting more than you expected. You've been trying to keep her safe, trying to keep her at a distance from all of this, but in doing so, you're pushing her away—maybe for good.

"Now," she ignores the pained look in your eyes, "my keys." She holds her hand out.

You ignore a voice in the back of your head shouting at you to stop, to not give her her keys. To not let her walk away. But you're an idiot, who gives her her keys.

"Tell your mom I'm sorry," she snatches keys from your hand then walks to the driver's side. She pauses and looks at you.

The silence between you stretches painfully as Mabel pauses by the driver's side, her hand resting on the door handle. You can feel the weight of the moment, the finality in her movement, and it gnaws at you.

"You're not going to say anything?" she asks, her voice quieter now, almost fragile. She looks at you, waiting, hoping maybe you'll give her a reason to stay.

But you don't know what to say. Everything you've been holding back, all the fear, the threats, it's locked inside, and you can't bring yourself to drag her into that mess. You are your father's daughter. He never said anything either.

Then be different, you hear your grandfather's voice in the back of your head.

"I—" you start, but the words die in your throat. You see the disappointment flicker across her face as she turns away.

"Take care of yourself," she says, the sadness in her voice unmistakable before she climbs into her car.

You watch as she drives away, the tail lights fading into the distance, leaving you standing there in the cold emptiness of your driveway, feeling like you've just made the biggest mistake of your life.

Seven days. It's fitting, considering it's your favorite number.

You had seven perfect days with Mabel. It was bound to end someday. Whether with her leaving at the end of the summer or by your stupidity. How your father managed to keep your mother is beyond you. Your father was worse than you.

How did he do it?

You don't bother to even think of it, returning back into your sister's home with your head down. Your mother asks for Mabel and you come up with a better lie to her than you did Mabel. She makes you swear to invite Mabel over again, to treat her well because she loves her.

And you hate yourself for already disobeying your mother. You hate yourself even more because you do, too.

Three weeks since you met her. Seven days since you kissed her. And already, you love her.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #finestkind #mabel (finestkind)#mabel (finestkind) x reader #lighthouse

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