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sundives · 29 days ago

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My kink is karma ✶ pjs.

If karma's real, hope it's your turn.

Summary: You've wished nothing but bad things to your ex-best friend after she ruined your life by stealing your boyfriend and having your friend group take her side. And it looks like the gods have listened to your prayers when you were approached by Park Jongseong — your ex-best friend's first love.

You believed that bad karma will eventually get her but when Jay was persistent on dating you, you couldn’t help but to plot a petty revenge on your ex-best friend and the worst thing that you can do? Date (and maybe fuck) the guy that she longs for.

✰ Song inspiration: My kink is karma - Chappell Roan, Lacy - Olivia Rodrigo, The grudge - Olivia Rodrigo

✰ Word Count: 21.7k

✰ Tags: Revenge, strangers to lovers, man yearning and slow-burn pining!!! Fluff, a bit of angst, smut, college settings, reader is petty but we all are! reader can also be confusing but let her be, she also smokes for like one scene, Jay is genuine (and a down bad loser), he’s also in a band. Yunjin and Jake as your roommates (and they’re so parents-coded for reader)! Mentions of Enhypen members! <3 Yeonjun as your ex-boyfriend lmao. Oc as your ex-best friend (and so are other minor characters.)

✰ CW: Smut! Plot with little porn, oral (f receiving) cowgirl, a bit submissive Jay and that’s sexy haha, unprotected sex (pls don’t do it) petnames (baby, pretty girl) short aftercare because reader cried after sex. Idk I might have missed other stuff.

✰ Asul's Note: I know that my song inspirations are about sapphic relationships but this plot just went into my mind and i was just,,, you know what, i want to write that. So this is a huge brain rot for me, and just word vomits all pieced together. (Inspired by real life events tbh) Also it’s my first time writing smut so don’t judge. I know it’s shitty too. Other than that, just think of their university as a prestigious university that requires even college students to wear uniforms.

This is my first Enhypen fanfic, hope you guys like it! <3

The night club was full by the time the clock struck 1 despite being a Thursday night. Group of friends mostly filled the available tables and couch of the knit-tight club. The speaker’s blasting throughout the four corners with the dj playing some edm music.

It was loud, sweaty, and hot. People your age were dancing and singing along some 2010s pop song as their sweaty bodies hyped the dance floor — completely contrasting you.

You were wearing a black denim pants and a halter top, sitting legs-crossed on the high stool by the bartender’s counter. You've been sitting there since 11 in the evening and yet, you’re still halfway on your bottle of beer.

Clubs aren’t always your go-to place, but you felt the urge to celebrate small wins for things that happened today. A small smirk forming on your face as you recall the afternoon scene.

Your ex-best friend, Yoomi lost her scholarship. What a great way to start your senior year in college. You think. On the first day of class, Yoomi let the tears fall out of her eyes as your other ‘friends’ gathered around to comfort her. Yoomi was sobbing hard as she bore the news on why she was crying.

She was so loud. It was clear that she wanted to gain sympathy from your other classmates. She lost her scholarship because her gpa last academic year didn’t make it to the cutout. That is because of that one professor who gives low grades. You got a low grade from that professor too but you didn’t mind because it was kinda decent but for Yoomi? It’s the end of her world.

Yoomi was crying her heart out, sharing that she tried telling the professor that it’ll ruin her goal of achieving summa cum laude this graduation but failed to appease his empathy. You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes because of her words. Your roommate, Yunjin noticed it and could only laugh lightly because you didn’t hide the disgusted look on your face.

“She deserves it,” you commented while you and Yunjin were on your way back to your dorm.

“I get you,” Yunjin sympathized. “I really don’t get why everyone likes her. She thinks she’s smart and quirky but the truth is, she’s cringey and pathetic.”

“People are stupid, and are on the same level as Yoomi,” you let out a sigh, trying to erase Yoomi out of your head.

You and Yoomi instantly clicked on the first day of your freshman year. Both coming from a different town, you two found solace with each other. You two shared the same likes and dislikes, fangirled over anime and would send edit videos on tiktok.

Yoomi was talkative and friendly. Soon, your duo became a friend group who studied together and ranted over crazy tasks and strict professors. Your friend group made you adjust well during freshman year and you were happy that you found a safe space while being away from your family.

College also became a place for you to try dating, and maybe, find a decent guy that you’ll commit a serious relationship with. During your freshman year, you matched with Yeonjun on a dating app and after a few dates, you two became official.

You and Yeonjun dated throughout college. It was stable and healthy, and everyone envied your relationship. Yeonjun’s close with your friends and so are you with his friends. For Yoomi, she didn’t lose a friend even though you had a boyfriend. Hell, you were so happy that the two of them are close and bear no awkward signs.

But that’s where you should’ve seen the signs. Yoomi has always been touchy with Yeonjun, but that’s just how she was with your other male friends. That’s why you didn’t want to put malice on Yoomi — which was your biggest mistake.

Then came junior year. In a glimpse, Yeonjun became cold to you. Telling you that he’s busy and he couldn’t meet you. You trusted him that he’s just busy, because so were you. Junior year was hectic so you never prioritise your relationship. You were confident with your relationship with him.

So it hit you like a truck when you went to Yeonjun’s dorm to surprise him — only to see Yoomi with him. That’s when it sinked in to you all the times that both of them turn down your study dates, they’re seeing each other behind your back.

You caught them in the act. Yoomi was on top of Yeonjun, half-naked at your sight. You didn’t miss the way Yoomi smirked, which made you leave the scene. Yeonjun attempted to go after you but you’ve made up your mind. That night, you broke up with Yeonjun and completely cut Yoomi off.

Your group of friends heard about it, but you didn’t feel a single comfort from them. You were told that “whatever fight you and Yoomi had, they don’t want to pick a side.” and it’s obvious that they’re on Yoomi’s side.

As the days continued, you felt left out by your friend group while Yoomi became center of the attention, that is why the remaining months of your junior year, you only had your roommates by your side

Yoomi didn’t even wait for a month to hard-launched her relationship with Yeonjun. You found it pathetic of her but you didn’t care anymore. All the tears you’ve cried turned into a loathing feeling for Yoomi, and there’s not a single day that you wish for her downfall.

It seems like karma has been hearing your prayers. Yoomi’s scholarship is one of the reasons why she can study in a prestigious university like Decelis University, and losing it just in time for senior year can be painful. But you’re overjoyed by the news, wishing that it’ll get worse like her being unable to finish college. You couldn’t help but to lightly chuckle as you took another sip from your beer, chugging it down until its last drop.

“Hey,” your thoughts trailed off when you picked-up a masculine voice. You turned to your right to see a guy around your age standing beside you. He’s leaning against the counter with a bottle of beer in his hand. He’s hot with his slicked-back hair, wearing a cotton polo shirt tucked-in snuggly in his cotton pants — contrasting all the streetwear-dressed guys in the club.

“Hi,” you offered a smile, mentally preparing yourself to reject him. You didn’t go to the club to be picked-up by a stranger after all.

“You’re alone?” he asked and you only laughed. Of course. That's the first thing a guy would ask.

“Do you see me talking to someone?” you raised an eyebrow, and that made him chuckle.

“Well, you wouldn’t mind me accompanying you?” he offered, stretching his hand. “I’m Jay.”

You stopped your tracks, blinking to sink in his name. Jay. That name sounds so familiar but you couldn’t point a finger about it.

“Jay,” you breathe. “You go to Decelis University?”

He seems to be surprised by your question. “Yeah, you probably heard of Arcanum? I’m their electric guitarist.”

Fuck. You cursed internally, eyes turning wide. Park Jongseong. Jay. Studies Marketing and Advertising. Electric guitarist of Decelis University’s university band, Arcanum.

Jay. Your ex-best friend Yoomi’s first love. They go to the same school back in her hometown. Her long-time crush who she followed to Decelis University just to have a chance with him. The guy who’s band gig she attends wherever it is. The guy who made Yoomi hyperventilate when Jay glanced at her for a split second.

And maybe the reason why you didn’t suspect Yoomi to take a liking to Yeonjun is because her goal has always been Jay.

Jay, who seems to be Yoomi’s universe, is standing in front of you, and casually flirting with you — something that Yoomi never had the chance to do.

It was as if karma really is doing god’s work. All of Yoomi’s desperate attempts to be noticed by Jay didn’t stand a chance the moment Jay approached you first. The bulb inside your brain suddenly lightens up and suddenly, a plan is circulating in your mind.

“So you’re the electric guitarist,” you smiled. “I admit, your solo performance during the year-end concert was hot.”

“You think I’m hot?” he asked amusingly.

“Don’t flatter yourself Jay,” you laughed. “You’ll be much hotter if you buy me another bottle of beer though.”

“If that’s the only thing that can continue this conversation, I’ll be happy to.”

Gotcha. You watched as Jay called out the bartender to order another bottle of beer for you. How you managed to do it so easy was probably karma’s doing and you’re thanking the heavens for siding on you.

As the night deepens, you and Jay shared an endless conversation about you two. Jumping from one topic to another, and you didn’t miss the subtle flirty remarks he would throw at any chance he could. It didn’t even strike you that the longer your talks were, the less people had become inside the club.

“It’s almost four,” Jay said. “I think they’re just waiting for us to leave.”

You scanned the whole club and there’s only a few people around. You only had three bottles of beer that night and it was enough for you. You don’t even feel a hint of tipsiness in your system, that’s why you glanced at Jay and smiled,

“I think that’s our cue then,” you said, grabbing your purse and fishing out your wallet when Jay had already handed over his card.

“So, am I hotter now that I bought you a bottle of beer?” he jokes.

“You sound like you want some affirmations from me,” you smirked.

“I’ll be happy to hear affirmations from a pretty girl like you.”

That made you chuckle. “Sure Jay, thanks for the drinks.” you jumped out from the high stool when Jay tapped your shoulder.

“I’m not really the type to do this but,” Jay started, and you can sense a hint of hesitation in his tone. “But do you wanna go to my place?”

You stared at him for a few seconds. “Sorry, I’m not that type of girl.”

“It’s okay, and I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable,” he quickly said, and you couldn’t believe what you just heard. Most guys will be persistent to take a girl home, but Jay looks away from you embarrassed.

“I didn’t, don’t worry,” you gave him a smile. You lean towards him, tiptoe-ing to land a kiss on his cheeks.

“Maybe take me on a date or two, then I can go to your place,” you whispered to his left ear.

You gave him a wave before you turned around and started walking away when you heard Jay call out your name again.

“Then, when can I see you again!?” he asked.

You turned around and only smiled at him, “you go to Decelis right? If we bumped into each other, then maybe that’s fate’s way of telling me to go on a date with you.”

You didn’t even let him say another word. You probably have left him speechless as you walked out of the club. The cold air welcomed you as you walked your way towards your car.

As you sat in the driver’s seat, that’s when you let out a loud laugh that you’ve been holding back throughout the night. Slapping your steering wheel harshly as you laugh until the air in your lungs weakens you.

Catching your breath, you leaned against your seat as you sinked in your mind that you spent the night flirting with Jay — and if you were being petty, you would’ve accepted his invitation.

Sure it was inviting but short. If you would’ve slept with Jay, that’s just it. You’re just the girl that banged her ex-best friend’s long-time crush and for you, it’s a bit shallow to get back to Yoomi. You wanted her to suffer. To be hurt slowly just like what she did to you. That’s why you’re curating a perfect revenge plan — get back to her by dating the guy that she could never have.

And Park Jongseong? Well, he’s just the perfect tool for your revenge. But first, you just have to make sure that your plan is actually a sign from the gods themselves. And the only way to find out is if you ever encounter Jay again.

They say that a university is big if you’re looking for someone, and small if you’re avoiding someone.

If they ask you which one is you, neither of them. You couldn’t avoid Yoomi since she’s your classmate and you curse Decelis’ blocked section policy for letting you see her and your friend group everyday.

You’re not looking for someone too. And if that someone is named Park Jongseong, then yes, you’re definitely not looking for someone. It’s been two weeks since your encounter with Jay and you’ve given up easily. Now, you’re just praying for karma to do all the work.

It was past five in the afternoon. Your last class just ended and your roommates are waiting for you at a Pho stall outside the university for dinner.

You walked your way towards the university’s nearest exit. The sky slowly turns into shades of purple and deep orange, the sun is about to set and you can feel the cool breeze. You hum lightly as you listen to your music on the way.

That’s when you felt a light tap on your shoulder, startling you as you turned around and behold —

“Found you,” he teased.

It was obvious in your eyes that you were surprised to see him. Removing your earphones while processing your thoughts.

“I guessed you’re too stunned to see me,” Jay teases again, making you snap out of your daze.

You chuckled nervously, “what? You just scared me, that’s all.”

“Really? Well now that I finally found you, how about we talk about your promise?”

“You really searched for me, didn’t you?” you asked instead.

Jay tilts his head amusingly. “Not really, let’s just say fate is doing its work.”

Funny. You thought. It’s the same sign that you’re looking to continue your plan. You weren’t able to say another thing as Jay stood there waiting for your answer.

And suddenly, that scene from Yeonjun’s dorm flashed in your mind. It has always been engraved in your mind how close they were. Their intimate position as Yeonjun looked at you with shock while Yoomi was glad that you caught both of them.

Then you remember the times you accompanied Yoomi to Jay’s gig. How she would shout his name so loud that you looked away embarrassed. How she crashed out when Jay reposted her instagram story of his photo taken by her. You remembered how deep Yoomi’s love for Jay — ever since high school, Jay has always been the guy that she wanted to marry.

You told yourself that if you ever crossed paths with Jay again, it’ll be the sign to get back to Yoomi. That this is karma’s way to tell you that you should do it instead of waiting for them. Now, Jay found you and is eager to get that date, what’s holding you back now?

It’s the last year of your college. Why not end it with pettiness and hatred? You don’t want to graduate college with pain and trauma, and surely, you don’t want to be the bigger person who’ll forgive and forget — no, you were never always the bigger person. Not when there’s nothing to forgive and forget because both Yeonjun and Yoomi weren’t sorry for their actions.

“Like, right now?” You asked Jay.

Jay merely shrugs, “I mean if you want to, but if you want a splendid, prepared date, we can also have that one.”

You clicked your tongue. Pondering if this is worth ditching Yunjin and Jake.

And it didn’t take you a minute to decide. You fished out your phone and started typing a message to your roommates.

3rd floor besties <3

Yn: Can’t go. Jay asked me to have dinner with him. I’ll spare the details later.

5:23 pm

Yunjin: JAY ???? THE GUY THAT Yoomi LIKES ???

5:24 pm

Jake: Guessed he found you lmao. He’s been yapping about you since that night at the club.

5:24 pm

Yunjin: GO FOR IT GURLIE WE LOVE TO SEE IT.

5:24 pm

You chose to not reply to your roommates and instead, placed your phone in your jeans pocket.

“So, where should we spontaneously go for a dinner date?” You asked.

“You sure, you don’t mind ditching your friends?” he throws back the question.

You only shrugged, “they’ll be fine. So, where are we going?”

“You take the pick, I’m okay with anything.”

You and Jay stumbled upon a small chinese eatery just five minutes away from the university gate. It’s a bit crowded and maybe, your pho cravings can be replaced with xiao long bao.

As soon as the server left the table, that’s when an awkward atmosphere emitted between the two of you. You didn’t know what to say compared that night wherein alcohol took a huge part in your courage.

“So, how have you been?” Jay started, making you glance at him.

You let out a soft chuckle. “I’m doing okay actually, how about you? You seem like you were glad to see me.”

“I’m going to be honest but I actually am glad to see you.”

For Jay, the university was big yet small as he looked for you.

He never felt so pathetic in his life before. One of his mistakes was not asking for your socials and damn you, for telling him that it’ll be fate for you two to meet again. He’s not even a spiritual person and whatever you said made him think if you’re interested in him or not.

A week or two felt like a hopeless case, it wasn’t until his idiotic friend, Jake Sim only recently told him that you’re his roommate — after weeks of him venting his frustration.

“You’re down bad,” Jake jokingly said.

“Shut up and just tell me about her college program,” Jay hastily said.

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” Jake said in a serious tone. “Her last relationship was fucked-up, her ex was a fucking asshole that cheated on her.”

Jay didn’t question Jake’s protective tone. He only nods as he assures his friend that he doesn’t have any bad intentions towards you. He understands why it took Jake a while for him to say that you’re his roommates.

That’s when he got to know you. You’re a senior like him. You study diplomatics which is on the other side of the university — far from his building. While it’s stupid for him to stand outside your department building looking like a stalker, Jay took the courage to pass by the building in hopes of bumping into you.

And it seems like favor is on him because you two met midway that what he was supposed to plan.

“Jake told you huh?” you laughed after hearing Jay’s story.

“Yeah, he also told me some stuff,” Jay replied, making you stop. You glanced at him, heart beating fast.

“About your ex, you know, he’s an asshole who doesn't deserve you.”

You only smile at him. “It’s kinda traumatic for me, what happened and — Jay, I just want to tell you that I’m not that ready to enter a serious relationship.”

“You can back out now before I use you in my plan,” was what you actually meant.

“And I am not rushing you,” Jay answered. “Let’s just keep it casual okay? Get to know each other, and go on a few dates.”

You let out a nervous laugh, “you’re eager huh?”

“I just don’t want to lose you again,” Jay truthfully said. So casual and simply that he didn’t know it shot an arrow to your heart.

That was your sign.

“I think he likes me,” you started. After the dinner, Jay walked you to your dorm where Jake and Yunjin were waiting. You can see through the floor balcony that the two of them were waiting for you like a parent whose daughter went past her curfew.

“Likes you? Dude, he’s down bad!” Jake pointed out. “I swear, every time I was with him, he’s all frustrated because he couldn’t find you.”

“And it took you two weeks to tell him that you’re y/n’s roommate?” Yunjin raised an eyebrow.

“I thought it’ll pass, but two weeks and he still keeps on looking for y/n had me thinking that he’s so desperate,” Jake shrugs.

You let out a frustrated groan, getting your roommate’s attention.

“You guys be honest, am I petty if I want to date Jay just to get back to Yoomi?” you asked.

The two of them only stared at you, making you let out a sigh again.

“It’s stupid right? I shouldn’t do it —”

“No, no, if it gives you the satisfaction of getting back to Yoomi, then why not?” Yunjin answered.

“Just make sure you don’t hurt Jay, he seems genuine about you,” Jake added.

You only stared at them for a good minute. “This is a bad idea right?”

Both your roommates looked at each other. Yunjin signaled Jake who only groaned as he glanced back at you. He fixes his glasses like he’s sort of a scientist while he leans against the railings of the balcony.

“Y/n, I’m telling you this as Jay’s friend. If you plan on using Jay just to get back to Yoomi, then don’t do it. Don’t involve innocent people around here — regardless how much Yoomi hurt you,” Jake explained.

“Yeah, who knows, maybe it’ll go back to you too,” Yunjin added.

You only nod at their words. “But Jay really likes me — but I’m not ready for a relationship. The only reason why I said yes was because I was really planning on getting back to Yoomi.”

The three of you fell into an awkward silence. Silently pondering your words, both your roommates knew how much it hurted you, and while they’re in to tolerate your pettiness, an innocent person is on the line.

Then, Yunjin’s face lights up, snapping her fingers to get your attention.

“Just think of it this way y/n, Jay likes you and not Yoomi. Yoomi has been obsessing with Jay for god knows how long, and you got him wrapped around your finger that easily. Just date him casually! Just show to Yoomi that you can have Jay and she can’t — and she’s dating that trash of your ex too.” Yunjin explained.

“Yunjin’s right, and Jay told you that he’s not rushing you right? You’re not pressured to date him exclusively too. Get to know him too, who knows maybe you two end up friends instead,” Jake added.

“Wait, that answers my worry! I can also reject Jay since he knew from the start that I am not ready for a committed relationship,” you pointed out.

“Jay’s a nice guy y/n, he’ll understand if you reject him too,” Jake stated.

You let out a loud sigh of relief. The plan was simple: date Jay and show Yoomi that. You didn’t need some splendid action to be the end of your revenge. It didn’t matter to you its aftermath. All you can think about is stretching it long enough to make it believable.

And probably long enough for Yoomi to confront you and shove in her face that Jay’s interested in you — not her. That’ll destroy her.

“Just don’t overthink about it,” Yunjin stated. “I know how you tend to mix your decisions with your emotions. Always think rationally okay? Go with the flow and everything.”

You only looked at her with an assuring smile, “don’t worry, no feelings involved in this one.”

You always wonder why luck is always on Yoomi’s side.

Of course, she managed to maintain her scholarship despite not maintaining her gpa. A bit unfair but you heard that she pulled a few strings to your college dean just so she can still have her scholarship until graduation.

Now, she’s all over her instagram story having a “story time” that’s about 20+ slides and you seriously wonder if there are people who are willing to watch those — maybe those who are interested in her life just to talk shit about her.

“Look at this,” Yunjin laughed, showing you a screenshot of Yoomi’s ig story. In the post, she shared how Yeonjun comforted her by buying her flowers from a nearby flower shop and took her to her favorite coffee shop so that the two of them could have a study date.

She shared that being able to maintain her scholarship was a gift and now, she’ll work hard to maintain her gpa. (and in case her followers don’t know, she’s running for summa cum laude.)

“Ugh, does she ever think that no one gives a fuck about her life story?” Yoomi’s an open book for everyone. She shares the most insane tmi’s on her social media which dilutes her personality. But what bothers you is that no one never dared to call her out and give her a reality check. Everyone in your department knows that you dated Yeonjun before she did, but no one…not even one, bat an eye on the situation.

“I feel like only a few people do, but I do like scouring through her instagram story just to laugh at it,” Yunjin snickered.

“You’re so mean,” you mocked. “How can you do that to sweet little Yoomi?”

“Shut up, you literally loathe her,” the two of you bursted into laughter as you two decided that it’s time to return to your class after staying in a cafe during lunch time.

“By the way, when are you going to meet Jay again?” Yunjin asked.

“This Saturday,” you answered simply. During your spontaneous date, you and Jay exchanged socials and numbers. He immediately sent you a text after he reached his place, and your conversation continued ever since.

“What’s the plan?” Yunjin asked.

“I don’t have any,” you shrugged. “I’ll just think that we’re casually dating, and let Yoomi discover it herself.”

“So, no soft-launches or instagram stories?”

“None for me. It’ll be obvious if I post Jay, but if Jay posts me?” you let out a small laugh. “And Yoomi sees it? Oh that’ll crash her.”

Yunjin gasps, “god you’re so genius for that! You’re really taking this seriously aren’t you?”

And before you could answer, your eyes caught a glimpse of Yoomi and Yeonjun walking together towards the entrance of the department building. You stop as you observe how Yoomi’s talking non stop as she clings around Yeonjun’s arms.

Instead of answering Yunjin, you only gave her a glance before shifting your gaze back to the couple. You can hear Yunjin imitating a gagging sound which only makes you chuckle.

“I hope they get caught by our discipline officer,” Yunjin muttered with disgust.

“I just hope they break up in the ugliest way possible,” you mumbled.

When Saturday arrived, you managed to slip out of your bed at 10 in the morning. Groaning as you enter the kitchen where Jake is.

“Woah, you don’t seem prepared for your date,” Jake teases.

“Why did I agree to meet him during lunch time,” you complained, pouring yourself a glass of water.

“It’s Jay that we’re talking about, who knows what he got under sleeves,” your roommate laughed. “Goodluck on your date, just keep it casual okay?”

“Yes dad,” you mocked.

You only ate a piece of bread with spread as your breakfast before returning to your room to prepare. Jay has sent you a message that he’ll pick you up at twelve noon.

You fished out one of your casual clothes which is a soft cardigan and summer dress. You paired it with your mary jane doll shoes and kept your hair untied and flowy. After putting on some light makeup and accessories, you went out of your room to wait for Jay. You strut down towards the living where Yunjin and Jake are watching some series.

“Oh my god, you look so gorgeous! You really prepared yourself, didn't you?” Yunjin compliments.

“If it wasn’t for your revenge thingy, I would assume that you’re dressing to impress Jay,” Jake comments, earning a light punch from you.

“Shut up, if he ever posts me on his social media, I should at least prepare myself right?” you pointed out, making the two laugh.

And before the conversation could continue, you heard the doorbell of your flat ring, which indicated that Jay’s here.

“Wow he’s early. He’s never been early in his band practices,” Jake stated.

“He’s excited for you!” Yunjin squealed, shaking your shoulders as she pushed you towards the entrance.

You only laugh as you stop in front of the door, glancing at your roommates who only shushes you to answer the door.

Jay stood there in his glory, and like the first time you two met — he’s rocking his signature polo shirt but this time, it’s a loose and button-down, paired with formal slacks. He styled his hair in a boyish look which complimented him more.

“Hi,” he greets you with a smile, and before you could say anything, he pulls something from his back. “Flowers?”

You could only smile as you grabbed the bouquet from him. “Lilies! How did you —”

“Thank me later!” Jake interrupted, which made you realise that your two roommates have been watching the scene.

“Right —” you only chuckled, “Jay, my roommates Yunjin and Jake, you probably know them.”

“Hi!” Yunjin greets lightly.

“I hope we get some leftovers from your date,” Jake casually said.

You only laughed at their comments before glancing at Jay. “should we get going?”

“I’ll bring back y/n later at night,” Jay excused, grabbing your hand before waving goodbye to the two.

“Enjoy your date!” Yunjin giggled.

“Our leftovers, don’t forget!” Jake repeated.

You and Jay were laughing on the way down and towards his car.

“Remind me to buy Jake some food okay?” Jay jokes as he turns on the engine of his car, driving away from your dorm in a slow manner.

“You really owe him big time huh?” you teased, glancing at the bouquet that he gave you. You always love lilies. The arrangement was gorgeous with small daisies and baby breaths wrapped around a delicate white and baby pink wrapper.

“Without him, I wouldn’t be able to know more about you,” Jay explained, eyes still focused on the road. “That idiot took his time to tell me that you’re his roommate.”

You only laughed, “small world right?”

“Right.”

After an hour of driving, you catched a glimpse of the place that Jay bought you. You only glanced at him who’s smiling as he turned the car towards the entrance.

“An oceanarium, what an interesting choice,” you teased, but there’s a huge smile on your face.

“You like it?” he asked.

You hummed for a minute, “Jake told you that I like the ocean?”

“You do?” Jay laughs, “no, this is just a coincidence but glad to know that I brought you to the right place.”

The oceanarium was crowded when you two went to the entrance. It took you a half an hour waiting time for the two of you to enter.

Displays of aquariums welcomed you two. Your mouth gasping at the glass ceiling where marine creatures swam freely around the space. You were too immersed with the view that you had forgotten Jay who’s walking behind you. Smiling as he watches you be in awe at the place.

He lets you walk around the area, following you wherever you want. You didn’t even notice how every time you’re standing in daze in front of an aquarium, Jay fishes out his phone to take a photo of you. His smile never left as he placed his phone back in his pocket.

“You know, I always wanted to be a marine biologist,” you started, staring at the stingray passing by.

Jay leans towards the aquarium, scanning the whole place. “Really? That’s a bit far from your program.”

“Decelis doesn’t offer that marine biology,” you only smiled. “But I’m content with my program.”

Jay only chuckled. The two of you stood there, trying to be immersed with the place. The blue waters painting you two in that hue as the faint background of the ocean waves played on the speaker.

“Wow,” you mumbled, catching a glimpse of a school of angelfish passing by.

Jay on the other hand, couldn’t help but to keep on glancing at you. Smiling like an idiot because he chose the right place to take you. His eyes darted on your hand freely hanging. For a second Jay pondered, but his courage won over him.

You were a bit startled when you felt Jay’s fingers brushing against yours, and in a split second, his hands slipped onto yours, intertwining with your fingers. You glanced at Jay and he only gave you a smile, tugging your heart in a light manner.

“Should we go to the next area?”

The two of you walked together towards the next area, a dimmed room filled with small exhibitions of marine creatures that can be found in the deeper part of the ocean. Jay can hear your soft gasps and astonishment as your head scans every display. You two walked further until you two reached a larger area.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, quickly walking towards the huge glass that displayed a swarm of jellyfish, unknowingly you let go of Jay’s hand. You stood there, hands clasping on the glass as you watched them glow brightly under the dark blue waters, igniting a white light as it swims freely around the area.

Jay remained standing from where he was standing, snapping another photo of you. He stared at it for a good minute, thinking how you look so beautiful despite the little light the place beams. He watched as you turned around, motioning him to come to you, which Jay only smiled as he walked towards you.

“It’s so beautiful right?” you said, eyes never leaving the display.

“Yeah, so beautiful” and as you looked at Jay, he was only staring at you. You can feel your face heating up, making you look away embarrassed. You can hear Jay’s soft chuckle, making you lightly punch his arms.

“Stop that won’t you?” you muttered, embarrassed.

“You look cute when you’re flustered,” Jay teased.

“Shut up Jay,” you whined, walking away from the area, which only Jay followed you with a teasing smile on his face.

After looking at every display inside the oceanarium, you two stumbled upon the souvenir shop where you found yourself staring at a small selection of keychains.

“Found yourself something?” Jay asked, making you shift your head to him, before glancing at the keychain again.

“Nothing, let’s go,” you said, but Jay pulls you.

“You want the keychain? Come on, it’s cute,” Jay said, grabbing the starfish and jellyfish.

“No, it’s okay, it’s a bit pricey too —”

“It’s on me, don’t worry,” Jay assured, and before you could even rebut, Jay had made his way towards the counter, fishing out his wallet and paying the keychains with ease.

“Here,” Jay hands you the jellyfish keychain, smiling at you as he waved the plastic bag with the other keychain inside.

“So that we can match,” he pointed out, and that only made you laugh.

“Fine, if you insist,” but nonchalantly said, but deep inside you can feel your heart beating fast.

You and Jay had a late lunch at a local restaurant near the oceanarium, enjoying a hearty meal with a side of takeout for your two hungry roommates. You two shared a few conversations and you’ve learned more about Jay — shifting the conversation to Yoomi.

“I do know her, she was a schoolmate of mine, I was surprised that she studies in Decelis,” Jay laughs. “Why? What’s with Yoomi?”

You only bite your lips, suppressing a bitter laugh, “she used to be a friend of mine but she stole my boyfriend and yeah,” shrugging it off as you focus your attention on your meal.

“Wait, your ex-boyfriend cheated on you with your best friend?” Jay asked, appalled.

You shrugged once again, “guess it was like that, I didn’t ask for an explanation because damn, what for right?”

“Wow,” Jay said, shocked. He leaned against his seat as he tried to sink everything. “Damn, they’re a bunch of assholes.”

“I know but let’s just change the topic before I lose my appetite here,” you jokingly said.

“I can’t believe it,” Jay leans against his chair. “I mean this is just an impression but I never thought Yoomi would do that.”

That’s when you bitterly smiled, “I thought so too.” you said with disappointment.

Thankfully, Jay didn’t push further. He darted his attention to his meal instead, having you two eat in silence. You knew that bringing up your past may be an awkward thing to do during dates but the least you can do is give Jay a hint about your past relationship.

The drive on the way back was quiet, yet comfortable. You could only listen to the music playing on the car’s stereo, a collection of old love songs that Jay had played from his phone. It was a random choice but it completely suited the vibe of the evening. You watched from the window the busy streets of the city. People walking down the streets, the opened establishments of local stores and their colorful signs, glistening just like the street lights. Everything just feels serene for you.

Soon, you two reached your place. As Jay parked the car on the side, that’s when you realized that you just finished your date.

“I had fun,” you blurted out. Removing your seatbelt before giving Jay a glance. “Thank you Jay for this day.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” Jay said, and the next thing you knew, his hands brushed the stray hairs that covered your face, you were a bit startled but didn’t move.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, and you could only blink, trying to sink in what he just said.

“Of course Jay,” you smiled.

Jay leans closer to you, making you close your eyes as you feel his soft lips crashing onto yours. It felt surreal for you, but your lips moved on its own as you kissed Jay back. It was soft and gentle, as if he was careful of hurting you. You can feel it that way when his hands never left your face, thumb caressing your cheeks as the kiss continued.

And what felt like an hour broke down the minute you broke from the kiss. Catching your breath as you looked at Jay who had a soft smile on his lips.

“Goodnight y/n,” he said, placing another kiss on your lips. “See you again?”

With that, you lightfully kissed him in the lips again. “Of course, goodnight Jay.”

And just like that, you returned to your apartment with a smile on your lips. More determined to continue your plan on getting back to your ex-best friend.

Monday arrived and Yoomi cornered you in the hallway.

“You went out on a date with Jay,” she said to you, looking more betrayed than ever.

“How did you know?” you asked instead, knowing that Jay didn’t post you in his social media.

“Hana saw you. Jay walked you to your apartment with a bouquet,” she added. Right. You thought. You almost forgot you have a former friend who lives nearby your dorm.

“It’s just a date,” you shrugged casually, knowing that Yoomi doesn’t take a ‘date with Jay’ lightly. She’ll sell her soul just to have a date with Jay.

“You knew I liked Jay from the start,” Yoomi gritted her teeth. “Have you ever heard of girl’s code?”

That’s when a mocking laughter escaped your lips, “funny that you said that, ever heard of it when you went behind my back and stole Yeonjun?”

“Yeonjun approached me first,” she explained, her tone becoming soft like she was asking for your sympathy. “And I know that it was mistake but for the first time, someone noticed me and I couldn’t help it —”

“Even if it was your best friend’s boyfriend?”

“You were too good for Yeonjun anyway! You never prioritise your relationship with him and become too focused on your academics.” she immediately rebutted, tone shifting into a defensive one.

Her words made you let out a chuckle. Her reason made no sense for you, and it just fueled your anger at her. It didn’t make any sense that your academics will be the reason for you to be cheated — Yeonjun knew that from the start, it has always been your priority. You two always had study dates, and sometimes Yoomi would even join you too. So it didn’t made sense for you why that’s the reason for your life to get fucked.

You couldn’t believe that after a year of cutting her off, this is the first time you’ll confront her. So much for a Monday morning for you. You always convince yourself that there’s no need to hear her side, but there’s a small itch inside you that wants to know — in hopes that maybe it can heal a bit of the huge damage that scarred you.

“Is that so?” you raised an eyebrow. “Well, for your information, Jay approached me first, and for the first time ever since Yeonjun and I broke up, someone noticed me. So I guess we’re even.”

You can see in her eyes that she was surprised. Her eyes started to water as if she was stabbed in her heart with a long dagger. And as you stare at her with a bored look, a bitter smile forms on your lips. “Why are you so bothered that I am seeing Jay? You have Yeonjun already, right?”

Yoomi didn’t say anything. She stood there frozen as you lazily shrugged your shoulders. “Yoomi, Jay was never yours in the first place right? So there’s nothing wrong with me dating him,” you explained. “And there’s no girl’s code here, because we’re not friends anymore either.”

You gave her a genuine smile before you left her there standing. You walked your way towards your classroom when you felt your phone vibrating. Grabbing it, you smiled as you received a text from Jay. Talking about good timing, he asked you to hangout with him after school.

“Of course,” you mumbled as you sent your reply to him.

You felt satisfied with the confrontation. Now that Yoomi knows that you’re dating Jay, you wanted to crush her even more. More dates, more show-off. And who knows, maybe you’ll get to sleep with Jay too. That’s not part of your plan but you know that it’ll leave Yoomi into insanity.

The day moved at a fast pace, the next thing you knew, your prof dismissed the class with a few reminders. As you pack your things, Yunjin eyes on you teasingly.

“You’re going to ditch us again huh? Is this what having a love life feels like!?” Unlike you, Yunjin likes throwing remarks, and she made sure her voice is loud enough for Yoomi to turn her head towards your direction.

“It’s nothing, he just asked me if we can hangout later,” you casually said.

“You’re so shameless,” Yunjin rolled her eyes making you laugh.

You can feel Yoomi’s eyes never leaving yours, and you faintly smirked as you and Yunjin exit the classroom.

Outside the department, Jay was waiting near the benches. As soon as he saw you, Jay smiled as he approached you and Yunjin. You can feel the stares darting towards you and Jay, that’s when you remember that Jay’s kinda famous around the campus because of Arcanum. You didn’t like the attention, but knowing that any minute, Yoomi will exit the building, you let it be.

“Hi,” Jay greets, smiling at you two. “Hi Yunjin.”

“Thanks for the leftovers by the way, hopefully we can have some again tonight,” Yunjin teased, making you elbow your friend.

“Ignore her,” you laughed. “Let’s go?”

You and Jay began walking towards the parking lot. This isn’t the first time you and Jay had walked together inside the campus, but this is like your ‘soft-launch’ with your relationship with him, given that he was carrying your tote bag throughout the whole time.

And if that doesn’t give you satisfaction, Yunjin sent you a message saying that Yoomi saw you and Jay leave together, making you smile as you put down your phone in your pocket.

“You’re smiling,” Jay pointed out.

You only hum lightly, grabbing Jay’s hands and intertwining it with yours. You felt the way Jay was surprised by your actions, but let it be, his smile turning wider.

“Just in a happy mood,” you explained. “So, where are we going?”

You found yourself in a familiar place — The Rabbit Hole, which is a mixture of coffee shop and bar lounge. It’s Arcanum’s usual spot for their gig. You’re so familiar with the place that you know that their gig starts at seven in the evening. And by seven, the place will be crowded with their fans and students, it’ll be loud, a bit chaotic but it’s a good chaos.

It made you wonder if Yoomi’s going to show up to support Jay since she never missed Arcanum’s gig. You sat by a corner table, your tote bag placed on top as you scan the menu.

“Hi! You’re here again!” The Rabbit Hole is under Decelis University’s funding, and often one of their students would work there as part-timers. One of them being Kim Sunoo, who’s smile never fades especially when it’s a full house.

“Hi Sunoo! I miss you,” you smiled, giving the junior a hug. “How’s work here?”

“All the same, but it was nice seeing you again! You’re my favorite customer, you know?” he complimented.

“Thanks Sunoo, I’ll have the usual, you still remember it right?” you said.

“Of course, orange flower cocktail and wedged fries. Just sit back and relax, because it seems like Arcanum has a special performance tonight,” the younger winks at you before leaving towards the kitchen. His words leave you wondering as you watch Arcanum set up.

It didn’t take a while for the place to be filled with people. You can see your fellow schoolmates still in their department uniform, not even bother changing clothes. Locals and supporters also filled the area. It had become so busy that Sunoo moved you to the bar counter in which you were accompanied by their new part-timer named Riki.

You only munched on your fries as you scanned the whole place, and near the stage you saw Yoomi, along with some of your former friends, talking as they waited for Arcanum’s performance. You watched as they laughed and cheered their colorful cocktails while you sat on the corner, eating your soggy fries and drinking your melted drink.

You can feel a tug on your heart, watching how they had fun especially when you used to have a place there. You never felt more lonely by the counter, wishing that you brought your roommates along with you.

A static sound interrupted your thoughts, shifting your attention to the stage where Arcanum’s main vocalist and bassist, Lee Heeseung taps the mic. He waves to the crowd and smiles, earning a few screams from their fans.

“Are you guys ready to have fun!?” he shouted, and the crowd shouted “yes!” in response. You can see the smirk from the oldest as he glances at his bandmates. Your eyes darted on Jay who changed his uniform to a casual streetwear outfit — far different from his usual looks but he looks good.

“I think the energy is still low hyung,” Jungwon, who’s on the drums, teases. Earning a few uproar from the crowd, which made the band laugh.

“Let me ask one more time, are you guys ready to have fun!?” This time, the crowd became louder, enough for you to be startled. You hear Heeseung laugh as he counts down from three and with that, they begin playing their song.

From the many times you attended their gig, this is the first time you decided to watch their performance. Eyes locked on the stage as Heeseung began singing, making you realise that there’s a reason why they’re popular despite being a university band.

The crowd was singing along, making you an odd one out who’s only nodding her head along the beat. Your eyes darted on Jay, you watched as he passionately played the instrument. He was feeling it like he was a rockstar

Damn. You couldn’t help but to lock your eyes on him. He was absolutely heaven to stare at, and it only took you this time to realise why girls like Yoomi go crazy over him. It didn’t sink into you that you’ve been staring for too long that when Jay glanced at you, you were surprised. But you saw how Jay smiled before winking at you. You can feel your cheeks heating up, unknown how Jay had this effect on you.

Arcanum performed five songs, with a few pause for the band’s introduction and their self-composed songs. They were fun to watch. They interacted with the crowd and moreover, made them laugh too.

“But before we move on to our next song, we have a surprise for you guys,” Heeseung started. His eyes darted on Jay, earning a few teases from Jungwon and Sunghoon.

“This is a rare occasion, so you guys are lucky to witness this one,” Sunghoon added.

“Right! We practiced hard for this one,” Jungwon added

You were too focused with their ment that you didn’t felt Sunoo’s nudge until he did it again, you only glanced at the younger who gave you a meaningful smile.

“Okay, we don’t want to wait for too long right? Jay, the floor is yours,” Heeseung exchanges his place with Jay who stood in front of the mic, holding his electric guitar. A few cheers can be heard but you can hear a familiar voice that keeps on screaming “Park Jongseong!”

You shifted your attention towards Yoomi who’s hopping like a bunny, shouting Jay’s full name with her whole heart. Damn. You thought. She really is not over Jay.

“Hi guys, I’m Jay, Arcanum’s electric guitarist,” Jay introduces. “This is kinda cringe, but when you really love someone, you just want to dedicate a few songs to her right?.”

“I don’t think I did that to my girlfriend dude,” Heeseung rebuts, making the room laugh.

Jay only chuckles, “shut up, you wrote a song about her — but anyways, I just want to dedicate a few songs to the girl who holds a place in my heart.” With that, the crowd cooed at Jay's words.

But you felt the world shutting down. Ears muted as you watched Jay glance from where you were sitting. You didn’t notice that you were left stunned, not until you felt Sunoo shaking your shoulder out of teasing.

You can feel it, a few people glancing at you, your heart beating rapidly like crazy. Things didn’t sink in your mind until Jay strummed the first chords of the song.

“I love you. But I don't really show you,” the lyrics said. You watch as Jay serenades the crowd with a song that you knew very well talks about love. You can hear the cheers, and then there’s the whispers, oblivious people wondering who the special girl was.

Jay sang the song with much sincerity, ending it with a short guitar solo which made the crowd be in awe with his skills. Screams and shouts continued until the last chord. You couldn’t help but to applause, a smile forming on your lips as you stood up from your chair.

“Seems like they love your voice Jay-hyung,” Jungwon complimented, making the audience laugh, chanting Jay’s name which made the boy flustered.

“Do you guys want more?” he asked, and all he received was a loud yes from the crowd.

“Alright, for the next one, it’s a new song we composed. It's a bit chill but I hope you guys like it,” Jay said, turning around to his bandmate who immediately got the cue.

Sunghoon started off the song with a short intro from his keyboards. It was soft and gentle, almost like a lullaby. It wasn’t until Jungwon accompanied it with drums then came along the bass and guitar.

It felt unreal, a song that when you first hear, you’ll feel like you’re falling in love. You were hooked by the melody, watching as Jay glanced at you before turning his attention to the crowd.

“X-O, X-O, kiss me, don't let go,” Jay sang, smiling ear to ear as he sang the lyrics in an upbeat manner.

It was cute, yet short, all you can hear was Jay’s vocals, sometimes harmonizing with his bandmates. You didn’t even notice that the song had ended, if it wasn’t for the crowd’s cheering, you would have been caught in daze due to the performance.

“So what Jay was trying to say, he deserves a kiss from his special girl,” Heeseung stated, which earned a few screams from the crowd.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Sunghoon shouted, starting the chant which was followed by the crowd.

You only laugh as you try to sink in your seat, embarrassed. But it didn’t help that Sunoo and Riki teamed-up to pull you up from your seat, almost carrying you as the crowd’s chants got louder the moment you reached the stage. You were left with no choice but to face it especially when the two juniors pushed you specifically at Jay who managed to get a hold of you from falling.

You can hear the crowd teasing the two of you. If it wasn’t enough, Jay’s bandmates joined the fun too, you could only hide behind Jay’s back but Heeseung managed to pull you away from Jay.

“Nice to meet you Jay’s special girl,” Heeseung smiles and you only chuckled. Facing him since you were left with no choice but to accept the request. “You don’t mind it right? The crowd’s curious about you because this is like the first time Jay sang during a gig, so consider yourself lucky.”

Your eyes widen at Heeseung’s words, hiding your flustered feeling by letting out an awkward laugh. Your words got stuck on your throat as you only glanced at Jay who’s like a confused cat, standing in front of you.

“You’ll be okay with it?” Jay asked you, tone hinted with worry.

That’s when you can feel from your peripheral vision that your ex-best friend is watching every move that you’ll do. Everything’s coming into pieces for you. Although the peer pressure is there, what would be more satisfying than seeing Yoomi’s reaction especially when she just confronted you earlier this morning?

“I don’t mind,” you answered Jay, giving him a small smile before signaling him to lean closer.

But you wanted to tease a little bit, hence, your lips landed on his cheeks which caused an uproar from the audience. They kept on chanting that you two should kiss again, but you only shook your head while Jay was speechless.

“Okay that’s enough pda, we don’t want to get suspended by our uni alright? Y/n is still in her uniform guys,” Heeseung managed to calm down the crowd, while you and Jay remained there frozen. You can hear Jungwon and Sunghoon’s laughters from behind, before they went near the two of you, teasing Jay who could only looked away with his ears turning red.

After that scandalous scene, Arcanum performed a few songs and covers before they finished their gig. You watched as the band members got swarmed by a few people. They attentively took their time to take photos and signed some papers for them. They weren’t just popular for their music, but they were also kind and soft-hearted. Each interaction was genuine.

Your eyes shifted to Jay who’s busy talking to a fan when you noticed that Yoomi was approaching him. You stopped your tracks, standing up from your seat which caught Jay’s attention, making an eye contact with you, you only gave him a quick smile which made him excuse himself from the fans — not even sparing a glance at Yoomi who wasn’t able to tap his shoulders.

“Sorry it took a bit long, we were supposed to end around nine,” he apologized as soon as he’s in front of you. It was nearing ten and the place was still crowded, with the speakers blasting a few pop songs to hype up the crowd.

“It’s okay, I enjoyed your performance,” you gave him a smile. From where you were sitting, you witnessed how Yoomi returned to her table disappointed, which made you smile even wider.

“I’m glad you did. I was supposed to take you to dinner but it’s getting late already.” Jay sighed in relief.

“It’s okay, I did order food while watching your gig.” you insisted.

“How about this, we can have dinner some other time.” Jay suggested, making you raise an eyebrow.

“And where’s this dinner going to be held huh?”

How you ended up in Jay’s apartment wasn't what you expected. And yet, you’re there standing in front of his door, ringing the bell twice, and just thinking “whatever happens tonight, happens.”

It’s been a few days since the Rabbit Hole gig. Your little stunt spread throughout Decelis — which instantly concluded that you and Jay are dating, and the only small details students don’t know are whether it is exclusively or casual. Yoomi hasn't bothered you ever since, but you know that she’s been drilling holes whenever you’re near her vicinity. You know that she’s been itching to confront you again, but because of the embarrassment that she felt that night, she distanced herself for some time.

Then you recalled that night you first met Jay, how he asked you to go to his place and you rejected him. Now, everything has come full circle because you’re about to have dinner with him in his place — that is, if dinner will actually happen.

Jay opens the door for you, planting a kiss on your temple as you walk inside. You scanned the whole place. It was huge, clean, and a bit cozy with the jazz music playing on his vinyl record player.

“Your place looks nice,” you complimented.

“Thanks,” Jay muttered, walking towards the kitchen wherein you trailed to.

You watch as Jay busies himself in the kitchen. You can smell the heavenly smell of sauteed garlic and rosemary on butter, pots on the stove boiling some pasta while there’s the sizzling sound of steak on a hot pan.

“That looks delicious,” you peeked through the stove, eyeing Jay's skillful hands as he cooked the sauce. “Is there anything that I can help?”

Jay only gave you a smile as he prepared everything with ease, “no need to worry about dinner, just go sit on the couch, you can watch some series on my tv.”

“Well, I would rather watch you cook instead,” you pursued, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“You’re just here to distract me,” Jay teased, eyes never left the stove.

“Maybe I do have plans on distracting you.”

Jay shifted his glance on you, letting out a soft chuckle as he stole another kiss on your cheeks before passing by you. He heads towards the corner where a stack of wine is placed.

“Want some?” he raises the bottle, and you only nod, watching Jay open the bottle and pour on two glasses. He gave you the other one which you mumbled your thanks, taking a little sip on it, while Jay continued his cooking.

“This is nice,” you hummed. “This is new.”

“Never had homemade dinner with him?” Jay asked, and you knew who he was referring to.

You only shake your head. Memories rushing through your mind, thinking about the dates you and Yeonjun had. Some were grandeur, while some were plain. Most of the time you two would go to coffee shops and study your hearts out. It was quiet and tranquil, and productive too.

Your mind shifted to Yoomi’s words a few days ago, how you were so focused with your academics — wondering if it was also the cause of your relationship’s downfall. That may be the reason why Yeonjun cheated you with Yoomi.

You mindlessly took a sip on the wine as you pondered your thoughts, not noticing the way Jay kept on glancing at you.

“Sorry I brought it up,” Jay blurted out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“It’s okay, just had a little pondering,” you smiled.

“I don’t mind listening,” Jay said, still busying himself with his cooking.

“I think I’m the problem,” you mumbled. “It didn’t surprise me that Yeonjun left me, I’m plain, introvert, and a bit tamed — I always prioritise my studies over anything else, and maybe Yeonjun felt like he’s not a huge part of my life that’s why he left —”

“That doesn’t excuse him cheating and Yoomi going behind your back,” Jay said. “There’s nothing wrong with you, and I admire that you have your goal set. It’s Yeonjun’s problem that he couldn’t accept that.”

You only bitterly laugh as Jay’s words felt comforting, you can hear from his tone that he was defensive about you which you were glad that he was.

“Let’s just forget about them alright? Tonight’s about us,” Jay insisted, and you let him be.

Dinner felt more special especially when Jay took his time plating the dish as he served it in front of you. His smile never leaves his lips as he watches you take a bite from the steak. You could only hum as you took another bite while Jay, who’s in front of you, is waiting for your words.

“God I should just marry you,” you blurted out. “How do you even cook so good?”

“Just some basic skills,” Jay nonchalantly said, making you chuckle.

Dinner continued on, with Jay bringing the wine you two were drinking earlier, accompanied by a heavenly molten cake that he bought from a local pastry shop. The night became deeper as your conversation became endless as you two moved towards the kitchen where the cake and wine remained while you helped Jay with the dishes.

The dishes were on the rack but you and Jay remained in the kitchen, conversation never fading as you two shifted from one topic to another.

“Okay, I want you to be honest,” you laughed, a bit tipsy with the amount of wine you had drank. “Did you find it cringe when I said that fate will find a way for us to meet?”

“Cringe? No, but confused, yeah a bit,” Jay confessed. “Maybe it was a mind game of yours but I was really confused how you rely on fate —”

“So you don’t believe in fate!” you pointed out, laughter becoming loud.

Jay became quiet for a moment, “actually, I did slowly believe in fate, you know that I was supposed to pass by your building? You know, just in case I bumped into you. But it seems like fate made it easier and I found you halfway.”

That’s when you stopped, realizing that Jay’s words had become serious.

“You really searched for me, didn’t you?” you asked with a soft tone. “You really don’t want to rely on fate, won’t you?”

“Why wait for the universe to make a move when I can do it by myself?”

At that moment the atmosphere became heavy. Suddenly, you felt tense.

Jay’s sharp gaze remained at you, observing you in every possible way and he couldn’t help but to curse under his breath. Your eyes that were staring at him were so innocent that he wondered where’s the girl who made him chase the game.

His hand slowly trailed to your cheeks, he watched whether you'd flinch or not – but you stood there, eyes never leaving his.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathes. “And I won’t do it.”

Your heart skips a beat hearing those words. Your mind started to be clouded by thoughts. This is it. You thought. Doing the worst thing that will crash your ex-best friend’s heart.

How good will it feel to finally get back to Yoomi? It was the first thing that you thought as you pulled Jay for a kiss, an action so brass but you didn’t care. You’ve waited long for this.

Jay responded to your kiss softly. Savoring your lips, as he tastes the lingering chocolate you two had earlier. He gently grabbed you on your waist as he pushed you lightly against the counter, closing the proximity between the two of you. This is way different from the first time you two kissed, something about it felt intense, as if you two are dying to taste each other.

The kiss broke in just a few seconds, you were catching your breath as Jay trailed his lips from your mouth down to your jawline. Peppering soft kisses which left you even more breathless. You can feel his hands playing around the hem of your blouse. Slipping underneath as you felt his hot hands carefully climbing upwards your chest.

“Jay —” you called out but you couldn’t even bother to finish your sentence.

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,” he assured between his kisses.

“I don’t think we should do it here,” you managed to finish your sentence making Jay stop.

He looked at you with wide eyes, and you felt nervous, wondering if you ruined the atmosphere. But Jay only chuckles as he sealed your lips with his. “If that’s what my girl wants.”

He pulled you out of the kitchen and rushed towards his bedroom. As you two reach the entrance, he opens the door and gestures for you to come inside like some gentleman he is. You only laughed as you walked past through him, but you shortly let out a yelp as he smacked your ass in the process.

You hear Jay chuckle as he closes and locks the bedroom door.

“Not funny,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes.

“Aw, come here pretty girl,” he grabs your face and kisses you once again.

You didn’t hold back either. You kissed him back with much intensity. Wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you, the same way he grabs you by your waist.

Jay shifted for a second to pull off his top and your eyes went wide by his action. You always knew that Jay’s physique was good, you can see it from his fitted polo shirts and tank tops, but god, seeing it up close just brought heaven to you.

Your eyes wandered to his chest down to his abs which you unconsciously trailed with your fingers. God he’s so fucking hot. Despite the room being dim-lighted, you can still see how good his body was. You couldn’t help but to bite your lips as your touch lingered to his body.

“Eyes up here,” Jay calls out, and as you glance at him once again, he traps you with his kiss.

You two continued to make out, lips never leaving each other as you started to unbutton your blouse. Discarding it somewhere in the room before you placed your arms around Jay once again. As you two found the edge of his bed, Jay pulled you towards him, forcing you to sit on his lap as you two didn’t stop.

Jay trailed his lips down to your neck, making you whimper lightly. He bites down at any bare skin, sucking and licking it that you’re sure he was leaving hickeys on it. You let him be, imagining how scandalous it will be for you to show up in class with your neck full of marks.

You could only moan in pleasure as you let Jay continue abusing your neck. That’s when you focused on your pleasure, finding Jay’s hard on nearby your clothed cunt. You start grinding on it, trying to find friction despite the layers covered.

“You’re eager for me, pretty girl?” he whispered huskily. You didn’t say a word, you continued grinding on him when you felt his hands on your waist.

“Couldn’t even say a word huh?” That's when Jay’s hands shifted on your bra, removing its clasp and exposing your bare chest in front of him.

Jay didn’t waste any time, he grabs you by your waist and places you down on his bed. He traps you in between his legs, hovering over you as he stares at you lovingly.

Something in your mind stroked you. The thought that Jay — Yoomi’s first love — is on top of you, looking at you like you’re his everything. It fueled a fire in you, you feel your pride swelling as you lightly cup his cheeks once again. That’s when it hit you — everything is real.

“You’re nervous?” he asked, holding your hands that were cupping his cheeks.

You shake your head as an answer. You watched as Jay removed your hands and kissed it with much tenderness. Your heart started to beat fast. The room’s temperature started to rise, but you were left there speechless as Jay leaned on to you to kiss you on the lips.

“I’ll take care of you, don't worry,” he whispered as if it’s your first time.

It’s actually your first time after your break-up. You lost trust in romance and intimacy after what happened. And you never thought that you'd go this far. Will it be worth letting yourself bare in front of a man? You pondered whether if it wasn’t getting back to Yoomi, would you still have sex with Jay?

You snapped out of your thoughts when you felt Jay’s touch lingered on your breast. He cups it without any hesitation, playing your nipples as he pinches your left one, making you moan.

“Let out those sounds baby,” he said. “I need to hear you.”

Jay latches on your right nipple, sucking it harshly as you whimper under his touch. He continued to take his time playing with your breast which only leaves you breathless yet wanting more. He took things slowly but you couldn’t avoid the aching feeling between your thighs. You tried to buck your hips upward, trying to find friction on his body.

“Jay —” you called out before a sharp moan escaped your lips. Jay continued sucking your breast with hunger as his hands pinned you down from moving.

“Be a good girl for me, won’t you?” That's when Jay unbuttons your pants, pulling it downward and leaving you in your underwear. You unconsciously close your legs, embarrassed as you feel bare in front of Jay. But you were surprised when Jay pulled you closer to him, hands gripping on your thighs as he pushed your legs wider.

“Don’t be shy now, come on, let me make you feel good.”

Jay said it so gently like he whispered a spell on you, you slowly spread your legs wider. Giving him access to your clothed pussy. Your breath hitches as his fingers feathered around the wet patch of your panties. Pressing his fingers to it, making you whimper.

“You’re already wet for me? We barely even started,” he teased.

“Jay — please,” you pleaded. “Please, let me feel you inside me.”

As much as Jay wanted to, he wanted to savor you first. His fingers snapped through the waistband, glancing at you as if he was asking for your permission. You only nod, feeling dazed already as Jay removes your underwear, eyes locked at your dripping cunt.

You let out a small whimper as you felt his fingers trailing through your pussy lips, gathering your wetness as he gazed at it hungrily. And it didn’t take you a second to process that he swipes his tongue on his fingers.

“Taste fucking good,” Jay cursed. “Can I?”

You mindlessly nod, and with that, Jay dives down to your warm core.

You let out a small mewl as you felt Jay’s tongue swiping through your core. Lapping at its lips like he was starving for it. Jay’s tongue harshly tasted every inch of your pussy that you couldn’t do anything but to writhe under his mouth. His hands gripped on your thighs tightly, holding you from moving as he continued to taste you.

“You’re so sweet for me,” Jay whispered. You could only moan in pleasure as he latches onto your pussy once again, feeling his tongue inside you as his nose brushes lightly against your clit. You couldn’t help but to grab Jay’s hair, grinding against his face as you moan his name.

That’s when you feel it. The coil inside your stomach tightening, a raspy groan escaping your lips as your hold on Jay’s hair tightens.

“J-jay, I’m gonna —” you couldn’t even finish your sentence. Too lost in pleasure as Jay’s tongue continued to abuse your insides.

“Gonna cum for me baby?” Jay mumbled, kissing your clit as he swipes his tongue through your core. “Come on, cum.”

That’s when you felt something snapped. Jay devours you as a muted moan leaves your mouth. You can feel the tears rolling down, too lost in pleasure as Jay eats you out to your orgasm.

Your legs were shaking from the aftermath. Eyes drowsy as you felt yourself tired from the feeling. It didn’t register that Jay had crawled over you, kissing you on the lips which you could only whimper back. You can taste yourself as you kiss him back, his hands cupping your cheeks lightly as your lips find each other.

“My girl did so good,” Jay whispered to you, kissing you on your cheeks as he lightly chuckled.

That’s when you felt the courage. Hands trailing on his stomach downwards where his obvious boner was. You lightly palmed his bulge, which earned a groan from Jay.

“My turn,” you told him, and before you could move, Jay stopped you.

“You don’t need to,” he said. “Tonight is all about you.”

“Then, let me ride you Jay,” you proposed instead.

“If that’s what you want baby,” Jay kisses you before pulling you out of the bed.

You two switched positions, Jay settled on his back as he watched you tug his sweatpants, glancing at him before pulling it downwards along with his boxer.

Jay’s cock springs upwards, hard and girthy. Beads of pre-cum leaking from its tip. You curse under your breath as you wrap your hands around it, stroking it lightly, making Jay’s breathing uneven.

It was stupid of yours to compare Jay’s dick from Yeonjun’s as you continue to stroke it. Sure, your ex’ dick was big but he was a bigger dick. And the only thing in your mind right now is that you’ll get to feel Jay’s cock inside you — and your bitch of an ex-best friend couldn’t. Yoomi can enjoy Yeonjun’s dick as much as she wants. While you? You’re going to ride Jay’s cock like there’s no tomorrow.

That’s why you hastily placed yourself on top of Jay, your pussy just enough to feather against Jay’s cock. You decided to test the waters, grinding your pussy against his cock, a whimper escaping your lips along with Jay’s harsh moans. You continuously moved your hips in a slow motion, creating a heavy tension between you and Jay.

You can feel his hands finding its way to your waist. You glanced at Jay who only bit his lips — you knew, he was controlling himself. That’s when you grabbed his cock, eyes never leaving Jay who watched you lustfully. You lifted your hips, aligning his cock on your entrance. Slowly, you sink into his dick, a choked moan leaving your lips as you can feel yourself full with his dick barely halfway inside.

As if you needed some help, Jay thrust his hips upwards, making you moan as his cock slid inside you with ease. You hold onto his stomach as you try to support from the sensation.

“So — full,” you choked as you grind against his cock, taking time to adjust to its size.

“You’re taking me so well, pretty girl,” Jay mumbled, slapping your ass which made you flinch. “Too big for your tight pussy? Can you even take it?”

You only glared at Jay as he lazily smirks at you. That’s when you started to buck your hips. Slowly you rise your hips enough for his tip to remain inside you. You slammed yourself down, making you whimper in pleasure. You continued to ride Jay, bouncing on his cock at a pace that leaves you full as his tip continued to slide your insides, stabbing your cervix that had you choking on your breath.

“You look so beautiful from here,” Jay stated in between his moans. You can feel his hips bucking upwards, finding his own pleasure as you two meet halfway. Jay’s right hand grips on your waist to support you while his left hand trailed upwards to play with your breast, pinching your left nipple that had you arching your back. Head rolling as you fasten your pace.

And as you looked down at him, you saw Jay’s fucked-out expression. The way his hands grip tightly on your waist, his stomach stiffening as he breathy moans escape his lips. You loved the way his brows furrowed in aggression, you can feel his dick twitching inside you as you continued to ride him.

“And you look so gorgeous from up here,” you teased, leaning towards him to plant a kiss on forehead. You lightly chuckled as Jay's expression never faltered, and if it wasn’t enough for you, you shifted to grind on his dick instead, leaving him grunting and gasping for more.

Your hands found its way to his cheeks, lightly cupping it as you placed soft kisses all over his face — except his lips.

“You’re — a fucking m-menace,” Jay said between his groans, making you chuckle.

He’s right. You're a menace. Because as you grind your hips to find more pleasure, all you can think about is how fucked-out Jay was, and it’s because of you. God knows what will happen if Yoomi finds out about this.

And that’s what you wanted to happen. To show to Yoomi that you had Jay under you, writhing and gasping submissively as you continue to abuse his dick. Sex has always been an intimate moment for you, but now, all you can think about is how good your ex-best friend’s first love’s cock is. Have you known that his dick was this good, you would have agreed the first time he asked you out.

You started bouncing once again, making Jay roll his head deep on the pillows. A loud moan leaves his lips which make you smile beneath him. That’s when you started attacking his neck, licking and biting on every spot your tongue latches to.

But it didn’t take long for the pleasure to reach you. You let out a choked moan as you can feel your walls tightening. The feeling of your stomach coiling as your second orgasm is coming, your pace becomes sloppy but you continue to bounce on his dick, trying to chase your orgasm before your stamina fails you.

“Need some help, pretty girl?” Jay asked, now both of his hands are on your waist as he continuously bucked his hips upwards.

But that only fueled your pride, you rested your hands on his chest, pushing him down further the mattress as you rode his cock faster. The room becomes more hot, only your soft moans and bodies slapping onto each other can be heard.

Jay continued to thrust upwards, his hands tightening as he can feel his dick twitching inside you — indicating that he’s near too.

“So c-close, baby —” Jay chokes, eyes shut down but he never stops thrusting inside you.

“M-me too,” you barely said. Your legs are about to give up, but Jay’s thrust had you put his dick in the perfect angle — just right on your spot.

And as he abused your insides, you let out a choked moan, grasping on Jay’s stomach for support.

“Jay —”

“I got you pretty girl,” Jay’s thrust became harsher, faster than before.

Your second orgasm came inside you like a wave. You can feel your legs twitching as Jay fucked you through it. Your pussy tightening around his dick, sucking it so harshly that his thrust became sloppy.

“T-too much —” you whispered, falling on his chest as tears started to fall. Your second orgasm hasn’t come down but Jay continued to thrust his dick inside you.

“Hold it in pretty girl won’t you?” Jay mumbled, kissing you as he continued to thrust inside you.

Jay’s breathing becomes unstable as he continues to pound inside you. You could only hold on his shoulder as you cry through the overstimulation. Everything about you felt more sensitive, especially when Jay’s dick continued to hit your spot.

And with one harsh thrust, Jay came inside you. You let out a moan as you feel his seeds spilling inside you. Jay sloppily thrusts inside, chasing after his orgasm as he paints your walls white.

The room became silent. Only harsh breathing can be heard. That’s when you felt Jay kissing your head as he lightly brushes your hair. His hands never left your waist but instead, he wraps his arms around your waist as he pulls you even more closer — not minding that you two are sticky and sweaty.

You two remained in that position, he’s still inside you and you snuggly let it be. Feeling his warm cock inside you made you feel full and maybe — you’re just too tired to care about anything.

“We should clean up,” Jay was the first to break the silence. You lifted your head and glanced at him amusingly. Jay only smiles as he kisses your lips.

“But I’m comfortable here,” you pouted.

“As much as I am too, we need to clean you up especially that I came inside you,” he explained.

“I’m on a pill Jay, don’t worry,” you mumbled.

“Just stay here pretty girl,” he places you down on the bed, pulling out from you which makes you whimper from the loss.

Jay lightly chuckles as he leaves you alone to go to his bathroom.

As you lay on his bed, you couldn’t help but to think about what just happened. Your eyes never left the ceiling as the silence devoured you.

You suddenly felt dirty, and it’s not because you can Jay’s cum spilling out of you. It disgusted you that you had sex with someone, and while you were comfortable with Jay, it just sank into your mind that you. Just. Had. Sex. — something that you had been avoiding ever since your breakup.

You know that you weren’t ready, some wounds about intimacy still lingers inside you. But you did it, and you did it out of spite and pettiness. Which is far from the sex that you always yearn for.

You pulled yourself up, sitting on the bed as your hands trailed on your naked body. Feeling every inch that Jay saw underneath his dim room. You were shaken by the thought that you didn’t notice that Jay had returned.

Jay turns on the lampshade, but it was enough for him to see the panicked expression of yours. Hurriedly, he approaches you, sinking on the bed as he stares at you.

“You’re crying,” Jay tried to swipe off the tears but you flinched, making him withdraw.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, feeling like an idiot as you aggressively wiped the tears aways. “I didn’t — I don’t know what got in me.”

“Did I hurt you? Oh my god, I’m sorry if I was being too rough —”

“No! No you didn’t,” you assured, grabbing his hands and squeezing it lightly. You let out a deep sigh before giving him a smile. “You were gentle to me Jay. it’s just — It’s just I had a hard time accepting intimacy from others and I was just shocked that we had sex.”

“Is it because of your ex?” he asked softly.

You only nod, “yeah, I just lost trust in romance and intimacy but here I am.”

Jay became quiet for a minute. Heart beating with guilt as he looks at you with a worried expression. You only chuckle lightly as you squeezed his hands again.

“I enjoyed the sex Jay, I was just overwhelmed suddenly,” you assured once again. “If it makes you feel better, because of you, I am slowly starting to trust romance once again.”

“I’m glad that I can make you feel safe again,” Jay said with a genuine tone. He leans to give you a quick kiss on your lips. “Come on now, let me take care of you.”

After cleaning your body and changing into some new clothes, you and Jay snuggled underneath the new sheets he put on. His arms wrapped around your body while you lean against his chest.

You two remained in that position. You can feel nothing but his heart beating at a rapid speed, making you smile a bit. Jay’s hands brushing your hair as if he was lulling you to sleep.

“Y/n,” he called out, you only hummed in response.

“I like you…like genuinely,” he mumbled, pulling you closer to his touch. “I just want to say that because I’m afraid that you think that I took you out on multiple dates just to have sex with you.”

You didn’t say a word, you remained frozen as Jay continued brushing your hair.

“I didn’t even plan this, I just want to cook you dinner,” Jay lightly chuckles. “You don’t have to say anything though. I know that you’re not ready for a serious relationship, but I’m content with what we have.”

And with that, Jay kisses the top of your head.

“Goodnight y/n.”

The room became silent. You had assumed Jay had drifted to sleep while you remained there, eyes wide with heart beating at an abnormal pace. Jay’s words had pierced through your heart and it left you confused, wondering where your stand is now.

It was clear that you still have issues about your past. But with how quick you were to open to Jay, you’re now thinking if some of your actions were genuine and not just because you did it out of spite and revenge.

But you weren’t able to draw your conclusion that night. Minutes into your pondering, your eyes became heavy — drifting you to sleep.

Your relationship with Jay has become a newsworthy gossip that students can talk about aside from their studies. So what happens when the two of you attend the Decelis a few days later with hickeys and bite marks all over your necks? It added fuel to the fire of course.

“I thought it’s not obvious, I worked hard to cover it this morning,” you complained.

“It’s a bit visible but what surprised you is Jay, he is wearing it like a badge of honor,” Yunjin shared and you could only let out a sigh.

You should be proud about it. You shouldn’t have covered it with makeup because you wanted to show Yoomi that you had sex with Jay. Jay’s shameless about sleeping with you, and you should be happy because it’ll just irritate Yoomi more, but you only felt nothing but a gut-wrenching feeling about it.

Perhaps Jay’s words still linger in your mind. The next morning, Jay acted like nothing happened, he even cooked you breakfast. Of course, there were subtle changes like the way Jay became more affectionate to you but it just drags you even more.

How long can you stretch this plan of yours? Jay was serious about you, while you…you don’t even know where your stand is. You could only mindlessly brush your hair in front to hide your marks before exiting the girls’ restroom.

As you enter your classroom, you can feel the stabbing glares from your former friends. You ignored the way they gave you a disgusted look as you sat on the last row along with Yunjin.

Yoomi then enters the classroom, her feet stomping heavily like she wanted to have her presence known. You only lowered your head as you opened your Ipad to check any missed readings for today’s course.

You didn’t need to lift your head to know that you’re being talked to by Yoomi, the whispers were loud enough and you could hear the snarky remarks from them. Followed by a few laughter and comments of how ‘shameless’ you are to show up in class with indecent marks on your neck.

It’s as if Yoomi didn’t do that too many times to count. But of course, that’ll never cross their mind.

Soon, the professor entered the classroom and the class fell into silence. You focused your attention on your professor’s lecture, tapping lightly on your apple pen to focus.

All you want to do after is to rest and sleep even though it’s only a Tuesday. You feel your body weary and tired. All the energy from dating Jay had already drained out from you and you’re thinking of maybe ditching him just for a week.

You were walking like a zombie as you exited the building when Yunjin suddenly grabbed your arms harshly.

“What —” you weren’t able to ask when your eye caught the scene.

Yoomi’s talking to Jay. She’s saying something that you knew isn’t pleasant because of the way Jay’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Should you —” Yunjin wasn’t able to finish her sentence when you snapped your arms from her touch and approached the two.

“Jay,” you called out, catching the attention of the two.

“Oh there she is,” Yoomi said with a mocking tone. “I was just telling Jay about the truth.”

You furrowed your forehead. “What are you talking about?”

“That you’re dating him just to get back to me,” Yoomi said with full confidence.

You laughed in disbelief, trying to cover your nervous heart as you watched Yoomi’s face turn confused.

“Why would I even do that? Come on Yoomi, we’re in college, not in high school. Things like that are so immature,” you smoothly said, even shrugging to make yourself more convincing.

“You know I like Jay! What else would you date him huh!?” Yoomi said frustratedly. You didn’t expect her to immediately be frustrated about it.

“To meet new people?” you stated with obvious. “You think I’ll just let myself be depressed after my breakup? We’re just casually seeing each other, nothing more.”

“You think I’m stupid!? Everyone knows that you’re not even ready for a relationship, so why are you suddenly seeing Jay —”

“Just stop please,” Jay rebutted, making you glance at him.

“I know you Yoomi, just stop with the nonsense, okay? I like y/n, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Jay explained.

You can see the way Yoomi’s smile dropped. The way Jay talked to her like she’s a lost puppy being chased away. You wanted to smile, maybe smirked at her just to get back to her but you composed yourself instead.

Jay grabs your hand and the two of you leave the scene. You turned around and eyed Yunjin who only gave you a thumbs up.

While Yoomi? She stood there shocked.

You two reached his car. As you two went inside the vehicle that’s when your heart started to beat nervously. Jay was utterly quiet and his serious expression still hasn’t melted. You gave him a glance before you looked down.

Jay quietly turns on the engine of the car. Not one of you had spoken, and the car had been in utter silence throughout the whole drive. You didn’t notice that you reached your apartment until Jay parked the car in front of it, you remained seated in the passenger seat, waiting for his next move.

“Tell me that it wasn’t true,” Jay spoke, breaking the ice.

“Why didn’t you ask me that earlier?” you asked instead.

“I don’t want to give Yoomi the satisfaction that she won,” Jay clicks his tongue. “I know that you hate her so much and maybe, what she’s saying is true.”

You could only glance at the window. Not now. You always thought that your plan would be foolproof. Everything is so casual that Jay wouldn’t suspect a thing. That the truth won’t come out and you’ll bring it to your grave.

Yoomi really has to ruin everything. And you don’t have the heart to lie to Jay too.

“It's true,” you confessed, sinking deeper into the leather seats.

You can see the way Jay’s jaw slacked. His hands on the wheels tightened. “So when I approached you at the bar —”

“I recognized you, you were Yoomi’s first love, and I don’t know why I let my pettiness decide that maybe, it’s not a bad idea to date you just to shove Yoomi that she can’t have you.”

“So you use me?” Jay pointed out

“Not really,” you mumbled. “Jake told me —”

“Jake knows!?”

“And he told me to not hurt you!” you shouted. “Because you’re Jake’s friend and I don’t want to hurt you! Yes, I always thought that this was a bad idea but I just can’t sit all day seeing Yoomi happy with Yeonjun while I suffer even though they’re the ones who hurt me! That’s why I dated you because you approached me first which is something that Yoomi never experienced!”

You were catching your breath as you shut your eyes down, preventing the tears from falling down. You can feel your hands becoming cold, heart beating in a rapid manner that you don’t know if it’s the nervous breakdown or just you processing your word vomit.

“So none of what we had was true?” you froze for a moment. Opening your eyes to look at Jay who’s staring at you. You became locked in his deep gaze as his question kept replaying in your mind — it was something that you’ve been pondering ever since you had your date with Jay.

Were you mixing your emotions with your intention? Has there been any moment where you’re with Jay that felt real and you didn’t have Yoomi on your mind? As you kept on staring at Jay you only felt nothing but guilt for hurting him.

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “I don’t know Jay, we were supposed to be casual.”

“So you never had feelings for me? What happened a few nights ago, it wasn’t real?” Jay asked once again, voice cracking at the end.

“From the start Jay, you knew that I’m not ready for a serious relationship,” you pointed out, tone becoming serious.

“You didn’t answer my question y/n, do you even like me?”

And you didn’t leave your gaze at him. His eyes were pleading, desperate to get an answer from you. You frustratedly brushed your hair, tugging it harshly to keep you sane.

“I’m sorry Jay, I just don’t know what love feels like anymore,” you answered honestly. “How can you think about whether I like you or not, when I hurt you?”

“I didn’t care about that, use me whatever you want, I don’t care anymore,” Jay breathes, his tone becoming more desperate. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

You only shake your head in disagreement. “Jay, you’re just hurting yourself even more. You can’t love someone who’s still broken from her past relationship. See how much Yoomi hurted me? You don’t know how much I was praying for her downfall and when you walked into my life — you were the answer to my prayer.”

“That doesn’t matter, I wanted to help you if it’ll make you happy. Just let me be there for you —”

“Jay,” you gave him a bitter smile. “You deserve a girl that’s full enough to reciprocate your feelings. I can’t give you that.”

“You’re pushing me away?”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “The cat’s out of the bag isn’t it? There’s no reason for me to keep on seeing you.”

“Please y/n —”

“I can’t continue doing this especially when you know the truth, it just hurts both of us.”

You didn’t let Jay say another word. You quickly opened the door of his car and ran towards your apartment. You didn’t even bother looking back at his car, you went straight towards the elevator, pressing the 3rd button rapidly.

As soon as you reached your apartment, door shutting down lightly, you removed your shoes and walked sheepishly towards the living room. It didn’t take you to reach the couch for you to break down. Knees weakening as you let the tears fall down.

If everything was just for revenge, then why are you crying? If everything wasn’t real for you, then why does it hurt more than what Yoomi and Yeonjun did to you? You feel so tired and helpless as you sit on the ground, regretting everything that you have done.

Maybe you shouldn't have interfered with karma and let them do their own things. Maybe if you weren’t so impatient, then you would’ve just waited for Yoomi’s downfall. Good things come to those who wait, right? The universe must really hate you so much that it backfired on you immediately.

As those thoughts sinked in your mind, tears continued to fall. You were sobbing so hard that you didn’t hear the door opening.

“Y/n!? We just saw Jay’s car leaving —”

Yunjin and Jake stopped when they saw you on the floor. You turned around to them and both felt deja vu. It’s the same look that you had when you caught Yoomi and Yeonjun.

“I’m sorry Jake,” it was the first thing that you said. “I hurt Jay —”

Jake didn’t say a word. Instead, he walks towards you to pull you to a hug, making you sob harder as you can feel his hands patting your back. And as if it wasn’t enough, Yunjin approached you too and wrapped her arms around your back. Her head leaning against your shoulder as she brushes your hair to calm you down.

The following day, you show up to the class like it was a normal day. Thanking Yunjin’s makeup skills to help you conceal any fragments that show that you cried. The classroom was full already, the back row seat left unoccupied which you and Yunjin sat on.

“He won’t stop?” Yunjin whispered, eyeing your phone screen. There were no notifications, but your wallpaper of you standing in front of the jellyfish aquarium remained. That photo was taken by Jay.

Jay hasn't stopped sending you a message since yesterday. He wanted to talk to you, maybe he was asking for closure or something but you had enough. — and yet, instead of blocking Jay’s number, you put your phone notifications on silent mode.

“He already did,” the last time Jay sent you a message was this morning. Saying he won’t bother you anymore because Jake told him so, but he’ll be waiting for your message.

“You won’t talk to him anymore?” your friend asked.

You only shake your head, “I can’t face him anymore.”

Yunjin didn’t say a word, she simply nodded as she gave you an assuring pat on the back, making you chuckle.

As the day continued, you couldn’t help but dart your eyes on Yoomi in the middle of the class. She's seated on the second row like the good student she was, jotting down notes on her notebook, even interrupting the professor’s lecture at any chance that she could to ask questions or give her insights.

You always knew that her intentions of telling Jay was out of jealousy, but what did she gain from it? Did she want you to suffer more? There were multiple times that it crossed your mind why Yoomi did it to you. And this isn’t just about Jay, it’s also about Yeonjun. What does Yoomi even want from you?

“So I was right? You did use Jay,” and maybe, your questions may be answered when Yoomi approaches you first. Not half of the class had left the room and she’s already cornering you.

“You won’t leave me alone, won’t you?” you snarled, feeling irritated than ever. You didn’t mind that there were audiences that were watching, your old friends near the teacher’s table, waiting for Yoomi, while Yunjin stood beside you.

“Just admit it y/n.”

“Don’t push me Yoomi, you had the fucking audacity to approach and taunt me when you’ve done worst things to me,” you barked at her.

“That’s why it makes sense that you used Jay, to get back to me right!? You knew from the start —”

“Yoomi, I’m telling you this now while I’m being rational, but I don’t give a fuck about you anymore from the moment I saw you at Yeonjun’s dorm, and you should stop giving a shit about me and my life. You have Yeonjun, right? And even if you two are not together, you will never have a chance with Jay.”

“So, that makes you better than me? Because Jay likes you?” she scoffed, but you can hear in her tone that she was hurt.

Your forehead creased, “this isn’t some competition Yoomi, you have everything, Yeonjun, our friends — and maybe wake up for once, the universe doesn’t revolve around you.”

“You don’t understand y/n is that Jay is the only person that I had loved ever since junior high, do you know how much it hurts that no matter what I do, he just doesn’t look at me? And then you came along and suddenly he’s all over you. What did Yeonjun and Jay see in you? I don’t understand.” She vented out.

Never would you think that Yoomi would be insecure about you. You always see yourself as a normal college girl. Decent looks, smart enough to get a decent average, and a bit introverted. There’s not much thrill in your life aside from partying on Friday night on rare occasions. You blend on the walls just like you want to.

Yoomi is different. She’s everything. She’s pretty, always has the cutest aesthetic. Had an impressive track record of grades, and extra-curricular. She’s also an active student in Decelis, her organizations are too many to count, and everyone knows and likes her.

Yoomi has the spotlight, then why on earth is she still after your shadow? Even after stealing everyone from you, it’s still not enough for her.

“That’s not my problem anymore Yoomi,” you told her, tone becoming colder. “It’s not my fault that not everyone find you lovable.”

Yoomi gasped. Her eyes started to water. It shocked her when those words came out of your mouth. She has been used to praises, to people showering her with love. Yoomi thinks that she can still manipulate you, but that’s where her assumptions went wrong. Now, it was a wrong move to confront you — especially when your bottled-up hatred for her can burst out any minute.

“That was harsh y/n,” she mumbled, trying to hold back her tears.

“You shouldn’t have provoked me,” you angrily said. “You want me to admit it? Fine, I did date Jay for fun, and he was such a dream. The dates, his affection – god he was such a gentleman, and the sex? It was so fucking good, and he looks so fucking hot underneath me.”

Yoomi rendered speechless, mouth open as she was shaking due to shock while you only stared at her angrily.

“And even after telling him the truth — everything, he still wants me. He still came back running after me. You think that telling him the truth yesterday will make him look at you? Congrats because he did, but that was because he was annoyed by you.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m done with him, maybe this time you can have him, since you like picking up the trash that I threw just like what you did with Yeonjun,” you gave Yoomi a smile. “Just remember this one, Yeonjun settled on you because you’re a naive girl who’ll throw herself at any guy that looks at her. You want to know our differences? I know my worth while you’re pathetic because you crave for any guy’s attention.”

That’s when Yoomi burst into tears, loud and harsh that it made you scoff in disbelief. You only signaled Yunjin to leave, making her grab her bag as you and her watch your old friends circle around Yoomi, comforting her and shooting glares at you. You didn’t bother glancing at them as you and Yunjin walked out of the room.

Did it lift off a weight from your shoulder? No, you felt yourself more slumped than ever, thoughts were running through your mind as you exited the building. You glanced at Yunjin who placed her arms around your shoulder, shaking you lightly as you two began walking towards the university gate.

“She’s such a drama queen,” Yunjin said with an annoyed tone. “But I didn’t expect you to be so harsh.”

“That’s light for me, I could’ve said worse,” you stated. Your attention shifted up to the sky to see that dark clouds had become to cover the blue sky. Your lips turn into a straight line as you think about how the sky is sharing its empathy with you.

The weather in Decelis had become gloomy. The rainy season had started and the cold temperature seemed like a hug that you needed.

Days after the confrontation, class has been suspended due to strong rainstorms. It was a perfect time for you to ponder about your senior year. Stuck inside your apartment flat with both your roommates, you found solace in the loud raindrops drizzling on the street.

You sat on the wooden chair, legs stretched on railings of the balcony. You were listening to some music on your phone with a half-lit stick of cigarette between your fingers. It was a rare case for you to smoke, only during your night outs wherein you need to sober up before going home. But in these moments, you feel like you need to take a few smokes to relieve your stress.

“Hey,” you turned around immediately to hear a masculine voice. Seeing Jake in his hoodie and pajamas, his hair a mess and he’s not wearing his glasses.

“Should I stop?” you asked, raising the stick, but your roommate only shook his head, sitting on the empty chair beside you and also raising his legs on the railings.

“You seem to be lost in thoughts, like a poet stuck in a writer’s block,” Jake teases, making you laugh.

“Wish that’s my problem,” you only let out a sigh before blowing a few puffs.

“Why, still feel guilty about what happened?” he asked, and this time, you shake your head.

“I just wonder if Yoomi ever thought of me as a friend,” you confessed. “Or someone who she competes discreetly.”

Jake didn’t say a word, he only stared at you as if he was waiting for more.

“It’s not hard to wonder about it, after all, we were friends for two years and a half too. So I wonder, during those years, did she ever treat me as her friend?”

“Well, do you regret your friendship with her?” Jake asked you.

“It’s hard to think about it when all I can feel about her is hate,” you admitted. “Maybe my talk with her a few days just gave me a clarification that she was insecure about me, then it struck me if she ever treated me as a friend.”

“Well, friends don’t steal their friend’s boyfriend,” your roommate pointed out, making you glance at him. “That surely answers your question.”

You didn’t say a thing. Jake’s right, that should’ve been the clue. And to think that Yoomi never brought up why you cut her off and all she can point out was that you dated Jay shows that she never valued your friendship — not even once.

You flicked off the butt of the cigarette stick and placed it on the railings. You wanted to smoke another stick but you sat on the chair instead, deeply immersed with the rain.

“You know, Jay is still waiting for you,” Jake opened up.

But he was only met with silence from you.

“You know you can’t avoid everything right?” Jake pointed out. “You’re like this with Yoomi and Yeonjun, and while you had a valid reason to not confront them, Jay’s different, you left him alone in the dark.”

There it is. You hate that Jake was able to pick it up. You know that you became avoidant to people ever since you got betrayed. You kept your circle small, afraid that the more you let people in your life, the more chances they’ll hurt you.

When Yeonjun and Yoomi went behind your back, you didn’t bother asking for any explanation. Completely cutting the two off because you know that it’ll hurt more if you hear their side. And whatever shitty reason they can come up will deem useless.

Jay on the other hand, entered your life because you wanted revenge. But before he could hurt you, you hurt him first — and for you that’s even worse.

“Jake, I hurt Jay, I can’t even look him in the eyes without feeling any guilt,” you explained.

“I talked to him a few days ago and he understands where you are coming from, he’s not mad y/n,” Jake added.

“And is that supposed to make me feel okay?” you whispered. “I don’t know what to feel about everything.”

“It takes time,” your roommate pats your shoulder lightly, giving you a quick smile. “But just so you know, you don’t have to live in hatred forever, who knows, maybe you can learn to love again.”

That’s when you shifted your gaze at Jake, he only gave you a warm smile, making you chuckle bitterly.

“You think so?”

“I just think that you’ve become happier when Jay was around,” Jake pointed out. “Yunjin can see it too, and you might not notice it because you’re too busy with your revenge, but something shifted when Jay entered your life.”

You were stunned, staring at Jake who shifted his gaze back to the pouring rain. Out of the three of you, Jake has always been the most rational one. He was like a brother to you, and while Yunjin was your chaotic other-half, Jake has always been there to watch over you two.

“You think I deserve Jay?” you whispered, bare audible.

“I think you deserve someone who will love you so wholly that he’ll pick up every broken piece of you,” Jake replied. “And I know that Jay is that kind of guy.”

Weeks passed and the passing hurt felt now like a blur to you.

You busied yourself with your subjects, focusing on your academics and papers which was your coping mechanism back then. It was deja vu all over again but rather than letting yourself swallow in guilt, you focused your attention on something else.

Midterm exams are done, and you managed to pass your requirements with ease despite the stress you’ve been through. Now, you feel like a normal student who’s worried about her academics again.

The door of the classroom swung open, your professor entered it with a tense atmosphere following her. No greetings or bright smiles, making the room falter in silence. If it wasn’t enough, she slams her essay papers, loud enough to flinch the whole room.

“I’m so disappointed,” she started. “Twenty-five years of teaching here in Decelis, never would’ve thought that you’ll do this in my course.”

The whole room falls under a few whispers and murmurs. You glanced at Yunjin who merely shrugged.

“You know that plagiarism is a grave offense in our department? We pride ourselves in our students’ intelligence and perspective but here we are — and it’s not only a few paragraphs, but the whole paper. This is so disappointing,” she grabs the paper, a bit crumpled but you can see the huge ‘X’ mark on the paper.

“Ms. Han Yoomi,” she declares, making you flinch. You glanced at Yunjin who’s eyes were about to pop out of its socket. Your friend grabs your friend, calming herself from doing something petty, while your mouth forms a small gap as you cover it with your hand. All you could feel was shock, heart thumping like a rabbit’s eager foot.

“You’re one of our scholars right? Plus, you mentioned that you’re running for honors? This is so disappointing,” your professor shakes her head as she places Yoomi’s paper down.

Yoomi stood up from her seat way too fast that the chair fell down, causing a loud thud that echoed through the room. But Yoomi couldn’t care less. “Ma’am, I can explain —”

“You can explain it to the Dean Ms. Han, you know the consequences of your action,” she cut off. “Please follow me, and the rest of you, please take your midterm papers and consider my comments for your revisions for the final paper.”

The whole room watched as your professor walked out of the door, while Yoomi stood there frozen. It took a little nudge from her friend for her to move, grabbing her bag as she walked out of the room with her head lay low. When both of them left the room, whispers began to swarm around the classroom, just like you, everyone was surprised that Yoomi would do such a thing.

“Holy shit!” Yunjin whisper-shouted. “Holy fucking shit! I didn’t expect her to do that!”

“Fuck, what the actual fuck —” you let out a deep breathe, trying to calm yourself. “I can’t believe it, karma’s fucking real.”

Yunjin only laughs, slapping your arms as you try to conceal your laughter. “No, because that was fucking dumb of her, I can’t believe that she would do that.”

“Right! She always pride herself in writing papers even though her writing fucking sucks, but she plagiarized!? That’s so fucking stupid of her.”

You know that it was mean. Laughing at someone’s mistake that may cause her academic disruption, but after everything that happened to you? Yoomi will never have a chance to get past an offense that she stupidly did.

Karma’s finally after her and you know the result of offense. If no appeal were done, she can get suspended and worst — be removed from receiving honors. All her pride and dreams came crashing down in just a glimpse. And the good thing about it was that it’s all her fault. You didn’t have to raise a finger for it to happen.

You didn’t have to do anything. It slowly sinked in your mind that karma will eventually get back to her. It slumped you that if you had the patience to wait, you didn’t have to involve an innocent person in making your ex-best friend miserable.

You should be happy that karma got Yoomi, but it was only a passing adrenaline of satisfaction that Yoomi’s idiocracy got back at her. If this is what you’ve been praying for, why does the guilt remain on you?

It’s been weeks and yet, he’s still on your mind. You wonder, is he waiting for you? You hate confrontations. You were never good with words and dealing with people, but you couldn’t help to think about Jay and how you left him in the dark. You know what you have to do.

You found yourself in front of his apartment door. Hands shaking and heart beating at an abnormal pace. Jay had agreed to talk to you, and that means there’s no turning back now. You pressed the doorbell and after a few rings, the door swung open.

You stood there frozen, seeing Jay in a large t-shirt and sweatpants, hair disheveled like he just woke up. Your words got stuck on your throat, an awkward atmosphere hovering between the two of you.

“I —”

“Come in,” he said with a soft tone which made your heart skip a beat. Your foot moved on its own and entered his apartment, removing your shoes as you Jay waited for you.

“So,” Jay started as soon as you two reached the living room, clearing his throat. “What is it that you want to talk about?”

You only fiddled with your fingers, looking down because you can’t even face Jay. “Yoomi, got suspended today for plagiarising her midterm paper.”

“What?” Jay asked, disbelief.

“She got a two week suspension and got stripped off from her scholarship,” you added. “I should be happy because karma finally got her, but somehow it didn’t feel like I won.”

That’s when you look at Jay, confused yet waiting for you to say another word.

“Because I hurt you Jay. I was so impatient for Yoomi’s downfall that I resorted to using you. I dated you because I was petty because you’re a big part in Yoomi’s life but she can’t have you — but I can.” your hands become shaky, you are harsh with your fingers as you find yourself catching for breath.

“And I’m sorry because you were so genuine about dating me, even when I told you that I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship, you understood where I am coming from but all I did was hurt you,” you took a deep breath.

“y/n,” Jay called out but you chose to ignore it. Glancing at him as your eyes started to water.

“And I understand if you’re mad at me, and I’m sorry if I ran away — I always ran away from everything, even from Yeonjun and Yoomi, I didn’t bother asking for their explanation but you…you deserve it Jay.”

That’s when Jay approached you, pulling you to a hug that only made you cry. You punched his chest, trying to push him away but he only tightened his hold on you.

“You should be angry but why aren’t you? Why!?” You managed to stitch some words, and instead of answering you, Jay brokes out from the hug, caressing your cheeks as he looked at you fondly.

“I’ve known you for so long,” Jay confessed. “You’re always been with Yoomi. I know Yoomi, we’re from the same town but…she’s just not my type.”

You only stared at Jay, eyes widened.

“You know me?” you asked, shocked.

Jay only laughs, “face? Yeah I know you, but name and other things? Not really. But it’s not hard to remember the girl who looks like she doesn't want to be there whenever she attends our gig.”

The comment made you stifle a laugh, making Jay smile. “I found you cute and pretty, and although it hurts that you’re always on your phone during our gig, I still find myself looking at you. You completely contrast’s Yoomi’s loud cheer, that’s why I was drawn to you.”

“I wonder, “when will she be able to look at us?” then I discovered that you had a boyfriend, and not gonna lie it crushed my heart.” Jay jokingly said. “Then you stopped showing up to our gigs, and Yoomi was with another friend. I thought, maybe you were spending your time with your boyfriend, and maybe I should stop this silly crush of mine.”

You became quiet. Thoughts became afloat. It all makes sense now. From the start, Yoomi never really had the chance with Jay. All the times she told you that Jay kept on glancing at her was just her assumption — Jay has been looking at you all along.

His words, you recall the way Jay told you that he doesn’t want to lose you again. You thought that your first meeting was at the bar but no, he has been looking for you for years now.

“So, when you approached me at the bar —”

“It was like fate telling me that, “there she is, this is your chance!” And I didn’t want to waste it.”

“But I hurt you Jay,” you pointed out.

But Jay merely shrugs. “No, from the start, you made it clear to me that you didn’t want a serious relationship, I respected that and I was happy with what we had. I was happy just being on your side.”

Tears started to fall from your eyes again, you couldn’t help but to cry making Jay pull you to his arms again, wrapping you gently as he pats your head.

It couldn’t sink in your mind that aside from your roommates, there is someone who is willing to be by your side despite all you’ve been through. You always thought that you’re undeserving of finding other people to love you, but it just went to your mind that meeting Jay wasn’t a way for you to get back to your ex-best friend — it was a way for you to find another person who will love you again.

“I hate you, you were supposed to hate me for what I did,” you said between your cries.

“How can I? Your reason is valid though, and if you told me from the start, I would’ve done worse, maybe kiss you in front of Yoomi just to spite her.” Jay joked, which led you to jabbing his chest, he lightly scowled as you glared at him.

“I’m serious,” you told him.

“And I’m also serious,” Jay lightly cups your cheeks, swiping any teardrop from your eyes. “And I’m not saying this because I like you, but because it’s just some petty revenge right? It’s not like you’re planning their murder.”

“I could if murder was legal,” you spat. “Would you still join me?”

And instead of saying anything, Jay kisses the tip of your nose, “anything for my pretty girl.”

“I couldn’t believe you,” you mumbled. “After everything, you’re still here for me.”

“How can I? I’ll be with you at any chance fate will give me.”

“Oh, suddenly you’re spiritual enough to believe in fate?”

“You taught me how to.”

Silence swallowed you two. You only stared at Jay who’s gazing at you fondly. Then he smiles, grazing your cheeks with his thumb.

“I love you.” Jay confessed.

Your eyes widen by his words, staring at him speechless as he never left his gaze at you.

“I love you so much that it didn’t hurt me that you used me, it hurt me that you had to resort to that plan because you were hurting so much.” Jay explained. “And if you give me a chance, I’ll show to you that you can still be loved, and I don’t care if you’re still broken by your past, I’ll help you gain your trust to love again.”

You only let out a sigh, glancing at Jay who’s eagerly waiting for your answer. That’s when you lean against his cheeks, smiling as you start, “thank you Jay, for showing me that I can still be loved.”

“Maybe meeting you wasn’t a way for karma to tell me to get back to Yoomi, but it was fate’s way to tell me that I can still learn to love someone. And while I was stupid to be focused too much on my anger, I forgot that I should’ve used my energy reciprocating your feelings to me.”

“And we can take it slow, I’m in no rush —”

“No Jay, I was just too stupid to realise that I’d fallen for you, that there were moments that felt genuine for me, and I want us to be more real, without thinking about Yoomi or getting back to her.”

You saw how Jay slowly sank-in what you just said, eyes widening as his hold to your face tightens.

“Are you serious?” he breathes.

You only nod as a response, letting out a soft laughter as Jay’s expression brightens more. He could only let out a raspy gasp, words stuck on his throat as he pulled you closer for a hug.

“I can’t believe — fuck, I'm just happy – god, I can’t believe this,” he said, choking in his own words.

“I’m sorry if it took me long.”

“You’re worth the wait,” Jay whispered. ,

Breaking from the hug, Jay found himself staring at you. You only let out a small chuckle as you found yourself staring at Jay’s eyes. He lightly brushes your hair before planting a kiss on top of your head, then sealing your lips with lips — an action that tugs your heart with ease. You could only kiss him back, finding yourself smiling between it.

Because the first time ever since you got your heart broken, you found yourself genuinely happy.

Epilogue.

“Congratulations to us!” Yunjin hugs you tightly, making you chuckle as you hold onto your graduation cap tightly.

Senior year passed by with ease. You found yourself juggling your thesis papers and internships along with course subjects. There were gray days and you lost count of the breakdowns that you had throughout the year, but here you are, officially graduating with honors.

“Congrats love,” Jay said, handing you a bouquet of lilies which made you smile.

“Thank you love,” you said before planting a kiss on him.

Your relationship with Jay was a second chance for you. Although you two still kept it unlabeled in the first few months because there were parts of you that were still struggling to open up to him, Jay was ever patient with you.

But now, you two became official, and you look forward to what waits for you two outside college.

“Congrats to you two, I know you two can make it,” Jake said, handing you two bouquets of flowers which made Yunjin fake cry.

“I can’t believe that we’re no longer roommates! I’ll miss annoying you two,” Yunjin said between her fake sobs, slinging her arms to you and Jake and pulling you two for a hug.

“You’re so dramatic,” you said, but your smile widened as you hugged Yunjin back, which Jake did the same.

“But before that, I have something to spill!” Yunjin excitedly said, breaking out from the hug.

“Do you guys know why Yoomi isn’t here?” she asked, and you only shrugged.

Now that you think of it, throughout your senior year, Yoomi still managed to get through her academics but there is wariness around her now because of her case. She didn’t bother you anymore either. Senior year became a peaceful year for you.

“Just tell us already,” Jake impatiently said, making Yunjin let out an evil chuckle, which meant that her story is diabolical.

“Apparently, she wasn’t able to graduate because the academic coordinators had learned that she slept with our Dean.”

“What the fuck —”

“Are you serious!?” you shouted, “no fucking way, where did you learn that?”

“Her ‘friends’ of course,” Yunjin smirked. “Apparently, that’s the reason why she was able to maintain her scholarship. They only investigated it during graduation season and had confirmed it a few days ago.”

“So, she wasn’t able to graduate?” Jake asked.

“And she’s expelled from Decelis, she can’t continue her studies here,” Yunjin added.

“Now that’s much worse,” Jay added, but a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

“And she fucking deserve it,” you mumble. “She finally got her karma.”

“Guess the universe has answered your prayers.”

You only stared at Jay, a soft smile curving on his lips, which made you smile wider. “I guess they did.”

Everything now felt light. The thorn in your heart was gone. You finally graduated with honors, your roommates are there for you, and your ex-best friend got what she deserves.

“Hey,” you called out Jay, shifting his attention to you. His right arm instinctively wraps around your waist.

“Do you need anything?” he asked, and you only shook your head.

“I love you,” you said.

Jay scoffs in disbelief, but the smile on his lips becomes wide as he leans into you for a kiss. “I love you too.”

Of course, you had Jay by your side. You may have been praying for karma but it was fate who heard your prayers. Despite the mishaps you’ve faced, you were still thankful because you still found someone who will love you wholly.

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smolbeandrabbles · 2 years ago

Text

Me, reading this fic:

I ran out of tags! 🥲 It’s been so fun to read your work! 🥰 Especially of the certified Best Boy™️

I can’t wait to read more 💚

Dance with me? (Roronoa Zoro x f!reader)

Summary: you try to convince Zoro to dance to a slow song with you.

A/n: okay so i love dancing. And i love Zoro. So i thought: why not have Zoro dancing?! And then this idea came out 🤣 it's kinda short, just cause i wanted to write down this scenario ajskajakja i hope you like it though 🩷 this was slightly inspired by Selena Gomez's Body Heat. This song isn't as slow as the song i imagine them dancing to in the fic but the lyrics fit sooo well 🤭 also let's pretend there's a band playing at the Baratie lmaooo

Warnings: drinking, swearing, maybe ooc Zoro (i just had to get this man dancing yk ajskajksja)

"We're connected by the sun

And all of the stars above

You melt me and my body feels no shame

And I don't care tonight

If it burns too bright

'Cause, baby, that's why I came"

You were at the Baratie celebrating after very a successful mission!

Luffy and Usopp were inside eating as much as they could (like always lol) and you were outside watching the band play and the people dance.

Sitting with you and sharing drinks, there were your best friend Nami and your crush Roronoa Zoro.

Yep, you were crushing on the moss haired swordsman ever since you joined the straw hats.

You thought about confessing to him several times, but you were really afraid of being rejected and making things awkward at the Going Merry. No, you couldn't risk that, not when you loved your crew that much.

What you didn't know is that the pretty swordsman felt exactly the same, even though he tried to fight that feeling everytime you flashed your beautiful smile at him.

yeah two idiots secretly in love with each other oh well ajskajskaj

The three of you were just relaxing and drinking when the band started playing one of your favorite songs. It was a slow and romantic song that touched deep into your heart.

- oh my gosh, i love this song - you closed your eyes and started swaying to the beat. It felt wonderful.

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol making you brave or if you just couldn't stand hiding your feelings anymore, but you turned to face Zoro and you were so certain of what you were saying even he was a bit surprised.

- come on, dance with me - you said, very sure of your words.

- what? No. I don't do "dancing", (Y/N). - Zoro replied, crossing his arms and looking away, knowing very well that if he kept looking at your beautiful eyes he was going to give in at some point.

- please, it's just one song... i can lead you - you said almost pleading.

You approached him and put your small hand on his strong arm (yep, the alcohol definitely was making you brave). That's when he couldn't resist anymore and turned to look at you.

- please, Zoro... for me?

The way you said that and tilted your head slightly to the side made Zoro feel something deep inside of him he never had felt before. How could he say no to you?

He rolled his eyes:

- okay, okay... but just one song. Make it quick.

You were so happy you nearly jumped out of your seat.

- yay!! It'll be short, i promise. Let's go! - you said clapping and happily standing up.

He got up too and you grabbed his hand to lead him to the dance area. Yes, you just grabbed the Roronoa Zoro's hand and pulled him with you. Maybe it weren't the drinks, maybe you were just really determined to be with him ajskajskaj

When you got there, you started giving him the directions.

- okay, you have to put your hands here - you grabbed both his hands and placed them on your waist. The touch was so soft and intimate it made your whole skin tingle - and i go here - you placed your arms around his neck.

You could feel he was still a bit suspicious about the whole thing for how tense his muscles felt, but you decided you were going to make that a good time for both of you.

- hey, you're tense - you said softly - just... relax, okay? I know it may seem scary but dancing is supposed to be fun. You don't have to be a pro to enjoy it, just... feel it. It's just you and I having a good time together. No pressure at all.

Little did you know Zoro wasn't feeling nervous because of the dancing. Well, maybe a bit (he had never done that before ajskajskaj), but it wasn't the main reason.

He was nervous for being that close to you. God knows what he could do being so close to the girl he had been crushing on for so long.

You ran your hands through his shoulders and arms, trying to calm him down and feeling his strong muscles slowly relaxing under your touch.

- now you just focus on the beat and move along. When i move right, you move right. When i go back, you go forward. Just... feel it and enjoy - you said kindly and you started moving with the song.

You both moved smoothly through the dance floor and it felt amazing.

- see, it's not that hard. I'm sure you've faced bigger challenges than this one, pirate hunter - you emphasized these two words in a mocking way.

That made him chuckle and look down, feeling a bit shy.

Yes! You made him laugh 🤩 you loved knowing you were the one to create such cute sight.

On the other hand: fuck, you made him laugh 💀 everytime he smiled it made you weak on your knees and you couldn't even think straight.

That's when you closed your eyes and rested your head on his chest, while you both just moved along to the beat. It was such a blissful moment, dancing to a song you loved and sharing it with a person you loved too.

Being there with him, enjoying the beat, feeling safe in Zoro's arms... you felt like you could live in that moment forever.

When you lifted your head and looked into his eyes again, it was like the rest of the world disappeared. There was just the two of you, holding each other and sharing loving looks.

You were so close and you could feel his eyes staring at your lips. You took that as a sign.

You cupped his cheek and slowly went in for a kiss.

Was that really happening?! You wanted to pinch yourself to check if all of that wasn't actually another delulu dream of yours.

But it was real. You could feel it.

The kiss was soft and sweet, but also full of emotion.

When you parted you were blushing madly so you just hid your face on his chest again and went back to dancing. This time you could feel he laid his head on top of yours too and that made your heart so warm. And that's because you didn't know he was enjoying it so much he had his eyes closed too, or else you would have exploded.

You knew at some point later you and Zoro would have to discuss feelings and stuff, but at that moment all that mattered was enjoying now.

You stayed like that for another few seconds until the song ended and everyone started clapping at the band. You and Zoro parted and smiled at each other. crap there was that pretty smile again

- see, you nailed it! - you said playfully punching him - thank you for coming with me, it was so nice. And i kept my promise, short and quick - you chuckled.

- yeah... now i kinda wish it lasted longer though - he said trying to look away to hide the small blush that was on his cheeks. Now besides smiling!Zoro, you also had him blushing?! It was definitely a dream.

You hooked your arm in his and led him out the dance area.

When you were going back to your seats, you saw Nami staring at you with a smug face. Damn, was she watching the whole thing?! Prepare for teasing in 3, 2...

- what a show, huh? - Nami said smirking and raising her eyebrows.

- shut up, Nami - Zoro said nonchalantly as he sat down and crossed his arms again, with that "100% done" face of his to try to hide the faint blush that was still on his cheeks.

You just chuckled and sat down for another drink, still feeling the bliss of that amazing moment you had just lived.

And you know what, the night was just beginning. Who knows what else could happen 😉

"Let's go all night

Just you and me

If you're the flame, I'm kerosene"

#I am obsessed with how you add those little authors asides! that’s so great! 🙏🤣#also you KNOW I love a good lyric so I went immediately to the song! 👀🙏#and now I’m like 👀 OH 👀 PLEASE 👀#So is it this they’re dancing too because I first was like /slow dance?/ and now I’m like /holllld up!/ 👀#also can I just - the bar is such a great touch anyway - so you KNOW it’s the perfect setting for this 👀👀👀#I understand the fear though - can you imagine confessing and then having to spend alllll your time on the ship with him after?#just throw me into the sea! 🙅‍♀️#(note me rereading it is a slow dance but also now I’m thinking about them dancing to Body Heat so here we are! 😏)#well I’m glad some Dutch courage helped with the issue of neither of them wanting to confess to each other 👀#Zoro out here trying to convince *himself* that this isn’t something he wants… just dance man!#breaking straight away like the softie he is internally 👀 I see you Zoro I see you! she cute go get her!!#/please Zoro… for me?/ (someone got their tactics from Luffy!)#I love that he’s just kinda tense and nervous and not absolutely protesting this 🥹 just a good boy (but a nervous one!!!)#but her softly trying to help him through what she thought he was nervous about? 🥺 the cutest! so sweet! 🥺#the idea of giving Zoro directions and him getting them correct? funny! but also yeah what an excuse to hold him to make sure he DOES! 😏#I read her saying /Pirate Hunter/ the way he does it in episode one 😆 I LOVE the idea of her playing it back to him like that! 🙌#girl is about to pass out when he laughs? Same girl same 😳#I’m OBSESSED with her placing her head on his chest and he just… accepts it. AGH! the GOODEST boy! please 😭🙏#ASDFGHJKL-! you two did not just kiss and then go right back to dancing like you—— AGHhH!!#oh I am SO SOFT! his head resting on hers? 😭 I want that for meeeee-!#I just love how chilled this situation is… they’re just letting it be without a big feelings conversation? 🙏#it’s a moment that doesn’t need the words - those *are* for later!#I also love that afterward SHE takes it back to their original conversation about dancing and thanks him for dancing with her 😭#AND compliments him! like there’s no awkward it’s a really great little /we don’t have to talk about the heavy stuff we can just keep this..#…fun for now!/ and it’s PERFECT 🙏#then he’s like /actually I wanted to continue/ please - boy stop! my heart can only take so much from you!/#Nami: 🎶 I can see what’s happening 🎶#lmao him just telling her to shut up! on brand! 🤣 but also we see you blushing Zoro! we see you!!#actually I think she’d be the best and WORST wing woman ever - that girl is gonna tease them massively but also ship it a little… a lot!#If the night is so young Zoro you can totally go dance again! 😏

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tbaluver · 19 days ago

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hihi !! ^-^ I hope you’re doing great! I want to see your take on how the lads men would react when they’re lovemaking and you fall asleep and they realize the condom broke what do you think ?? take your time !! ❤️

The Condom Broke- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader, Caleb x Reader genre: smut, suggestive a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i hope you're doing well too! apologies for posting late hopefully ill post more this week! i hope this was alright and that you enjoy reading! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

tags: mentioning of backshots

you were both utterly tired. just minutes ago, the room had been filled with ragged breaths and tangled limbs, your bodies moving with desperate need for each other. now, the adrenaline has faded.

he watched how your breathing grew slower, your body sinking deeper into the mattress. your eyes fluttered shut a while ago and he could tell by the way your chest rose and fell that you’d surrender into sleep.

xavier’s eyes were heavy, his body aching to rest, but he knew he couldn’t sleep just yet—not without cleaning you up first. as he moved carefully to not wake you, something caught his eye. a small tear on the rubber material.

a quiet frustrated sigh leaves his lips. of course. what did he expect when your arousal stains the length of his cock. his cock hits deeper and deeper with each stroke and your cunt grips on his cock so tightly like it wants to keep him inside forever. the way your arms are shaking like jelly and how your words are muffled against the pillow only spur him on more. he can’t get enough of you and your sweet little cunt.

his heart sank a little. a quiet sigh slipped out, more tired than frustrated. he should’ve noticed earlier.

he says nothing, simply tending to you first with slow and gentle hands, wiping you clean as you sleep soundly. he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder then to your lips. he makes a silent promise as he watches you sleep. tomorrow, he’ll be up before you. first thing in the morning, he’ll be out the door, making sure he gets the pill before you even have to worry or wake up. it’s his responsibility and he’s not going to let you face it alone.

Zayne:

tags: mentioning of p in v

zayne sighs, his eyes closed shut for a moment in annoyance when he catches the tear in the rubber material as he pulls out. perhaps he did go a little overboard tonight.

it’s been too long—days turning into nights, and both of you pulled in opposite directions because of conflicting schedules. so when you finally came back to each other’s arms, it was desperate and intense.

he kisses you hungirly, open-mouthed. you gasp, taking in his tongue as it dances with yours. your eyes roll in the back of your head as he thrusts into you deeply and impatiently. the bed starts to creak at his strokes, desperate to feel more of you.

luckily, zayne had prepared for moments like this. he quickly disposes of the used rubber before heading to the bathroom to grab the birth control pill he keeps on hand- just in case times like this happens. after pouring a glass of water he returns to the bedroom, kneeling beside the bed.

“my love,” he whispers, cradling your cheek, “can you wake up for just a moment?”

you stir, your lashes fluttering open to meet his gaze-warm and apologetic. “i may have..gone a little overboard tonight,” he murmurs awardly, holding out the pill and glass of water. “i’m sorry. are you alright?”

you take the hint and give a sleepy nod, taking the pill before downing the water. he stays close, wiping you down. “i didn’t expect to miss you this much,” he murmurs, quietly.

Rafayel:

tags: mentioning of p in v

he holds the broken rubber in the palm of his hands, a look of horror on his face. what did he do? the question haunts him in his head. a mix of ‘she’s going to kill me’ and ‘it’s my fault’ follow his mind as well.

his mind was so foggy as you slowly sank further down on his cock. you were so warm, so soft. your weeping cunt wrapped around him so heavenly that he thinks he might just see his lemurian ancestors early.

rafayel continues to babble incoherent words as your walls clench around his pretty cock, the tip of his cock rubbing deliciously at your sweet spot. you both know that you were so close once he saw your hips falter in keeping pace. his pretty hands grab your ass, helping you move up and down his length as both your breathless babbling echo off the walls.

“cutie..” he whispers, gently patting you, trying to coax you awake. “cutie—i..uhm..”his voice falters as you blink at him sleepily. he glances down at the torn rubber in his hand, then back at you with wide, apologetic eyes.

“i’m so sorry. what can i do?” the words tumble out of his lips quickly. “i can run to the pharmacy, okay? just tell me what you need. you can stay here—i’ll be quick. i promise imsososososorry.” despite how fast he speaks, you understand him. the guilt is written all over his face.

when he returns, he brings you a glass of water and carefully hands you the pill. there’s still guilt etched on his face but you reach for him, gently reassuring him that you’re okay. he nods even though he’s not sure he deserves the comfort. that night, when you curl into his chest, he holds you just a little tighter.

Sylus:

tags: mentioning of p in v

ah. sylus won’t lie—he definitely saw this coming. a part of him always knew it might happen eventually. even a high end, top-rated brand can only handle so much. he knew his size can push the limits.

but the way you pleaded breathlessly, begging him to go harder, deeper—how could he possibly deny you?

you were gasping for air from how his ruthless cock pistoned in and out of your pussy. waves of pleasure flow over your entire body as you find yourself stretched in a way you didn’t think was possible. your fingers or any toy could possibly match up to his.

the tip of his cock repeatedly prods at your sweet spot while you wrap your legs around his waist. you feel so impossibly full from his entire length that your nails rake down his forearms that will for sure leave marks the morning after.

still, he wished he had caught it sooner—while you were still awake. he checked the time on his phone. it’s late. the shops are well closed by now but luckily sleep doesn’t come easily to him during the night. carefully, he shifts to clean you up— his hands gently wiping you clean.

once you were settled, his arms find their way back around you, pulling you in until your head rest over his heart. he stays like this for a while, watching the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep. he doesn’t move, not yet. he waits, counting down the minutes until the pharmacy opens. when the time comes, he plans to ease himself out from under your sleeping form, careful not to wake you. by the time your eyes flutter open, he’ll already be back as if he never left at all.

Caleb:

tags: mentioning of p in v

caleb sighs as his eyes fall on the tear in the rubber, a quiet curse falls under his breath. he glances back at you, fast asleep—so beautiful. a small smile tugs at his lips, but it fades quickly.

he knows this is on him. he’d let himself get carried away tonight—too caught up in the way you were squeezing him so well that made him forget everything else but wanting more of you.

the sound of both your breathless babbling bounces off the walls. his fingertips dig into your thighs as he ruts into your tight cunt in desperation. both of you barely catch any of your words, both your minds turning into static every time his cock hits against your sweet spot. a guttural groan escapes him when your velvety walls flutter and- no.

he shakes his head, he can’t get hard again. he has to get the morning after pill quickly.

he slips on his clothes quickly but before he leaves, he returns to your side. his hand gently rests on your head as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. carefully, he tucks you in, making sure you are warm and content. then, he heads out the door, carrying a promise that he’ll be back soon before you even know it.

ʚɞ cr. for the dividers @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ thank you to my lovely beta reader @ilovemitsuya MWAH (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶)

ʚɞ 𝘕𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯:

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! The Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2

ʚɞ Others:

Wattpad

Twitter ( but like i barely know how to use it )

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majikkulu · 3 months ago

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ PILE ONE you two will already have feelings for each other. it won’t be a slow burn in the sense of “do i like them?” it’s more like... you both know deep down, but no one says it at first. your future spouse might not even fully realize how deep it runs until the vibe between you two gets so intense that pretending nothing’s happening just isn’t an option anymore. there’ll be a stretch of awkward tension, maybe even one of those days where everything feels off like you’re both kind of avoiding each other, but you can feel the weight in the air. the tension will build and build until they can’t keep it in anymore. when they finally say it, it will be just straight-up honesty that hits you like a wave. it might even throw you off for a second not because it’s unexpected, but because it’s finally happening. and the second they do, you’ll feel it in your chest like, “wait… i’ve been feeling this too.”. they won’t dance around it either. they’ll tell you exactly how they feel, and it’ll be so clear that they mean it. even if you two are opposites in some ways, it won’t matter in that moment. they’re choosing you. and they’ll show it maybe with a kiss or just a touch.

✮ what they'll say to you they’re gonna tell you how hard it was holding it in. how confusing and overwhelming it felt to be away from you or unsure of where they stood. they’ll admit they overthought everything, replayed conversations in their head, doubted themselves, went in circles trying to figure it out. but no matter what they did, they always came back to you. like… you’re their peace. their home. nothing made sense without you. they’ll be super honest about how long they tried to suppress their feelings. they believe in what you two have that gave them the courage to finally say something. it’ll be emotional. like, actual tear-up kind of vulnerable. you might see them like you never have before, soft, open, completely raw.

✮ the energy behind it it will feel like the type of love that grabs you by the soul and doesn’t let go. not in a heavy way, but in a “wow, this is real” kind of way. the connection is gonna be so strong you’ll literally feel it in the air. i’m seeing it happen during some kind of special moment, a gathering, a night out, maybe even a party or a quiet moment just the two of you. the setting will feel dreamy, kind of like the universe was like, “yep, this is the time.” when they say it, it won’t be planned. it’ll just spill out, because they can’t keep pretending anymore. it’ll feel bold, electric, maybe even a little scary.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ PILE TWO so this one’s gonna take time. like, serious time. not because they don’t feel anything actually, it’s the opposite. they feel so much that it overwhelms them. your future spouse is one of those people who overthinks everything. they spiral in their head, analyzing every little moment, every word, every glance, and it kind of eats them alive. they’re scared of messing things up, of not being enough, of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. so they wait. they sit with their feelings for a while. and during that time, there might even be a bit of space between you two... like, you’re not talking as much, things feel kinda distant. not in a dramatic way, just... quiet. they might even bring you something like a gift that actually means something. something they picked out with you in mind, probably after weeks of debating it in their head. they’ll try to seem calm, but you’ll feel the nerves under the surface. they’re anxious, unsure if it’s the right moment, but they’ve reached a point where they can’t keep it in anymore. they won’t force you to say anything back either.

✮ what they'll say to you before the actual “i love you” even comes out, they’re gonna open up about all the stuff that’s been weighing on them. like, “i’ve been confused, i didn’t know what this was, but i couldn’t ignore it anymore.” it’s gonna feel a bit messy and vulnerable at first, like they’re untangling knots in real time. they’ll probably say something like, “i don’t know what this is exactly, but it’s been there for a while.” they’ll be afraid. afraid you don’t feel the same, afraid they’re risking everything by saying it. but once it’s out in the open, something in them shifts. their voice gets steadier, more certain. this isn’t some fleeting thing. they’ve thought about this. a lot. they’ll tell you that you’re the one they keep circling back to. the one that just feels right. you’ll realize your intuition wasn’t lying.

✮ the energy behind it it’s gonna feel like destiny, no joke. like, “of course it happened like this.” it won’t feel forced or awkward. it will feel like it was always meant to happen, just waiting for the right moment. the energy around it is so vulnerable, so open. it’s like they’re standing there emotionally naked, trusting that you won’t turn away. they’re not the type to show emotions easily, but this time, they choose to. they want to. you’ll feel the moment shift. maybe they just blurt it out. maybe they show up out of nowhere, needing to finally say it. either way, it’s gonna feel like time just stops.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ PILE THREE this confesion is kinda chaotic like, it’ll totally catch you off guard. your future spouse is not the type to sit quietly while someone else gets close to you. the second they feel like someone else might be winning your attention, it’s game over. they’ll get this wave of jealousy. they won’t plan it, they won’t rehearse it. it’ll be one of those impulsive “i can’t hold this in anymore” kind of moments. and what’s funny is, they’ll try to play it cool. like, they’ll make it sound like a joke or tease you in that flirty way. you’ll see them acting kinda extra. trying to impress you, maybe being louder or more confident than usual. it’s because they feel the competition and it lowkey freaks them out. like, they know they need to make a move before it’s too late. and they want to leave a mark something you’ll remember. the way they speak, the way they look at you... it’ll just hit different. like you’ll pause and be like, “wait, what was that?” it might not be super obvious at first, since they’re gonna wrap it all in humor and charm. this whole thing screams friends-to-lovers tbh like they’ve had feelings for a while, but the jealousy finally broke the dam.

✮ what they'll say to you once they stop messing around and actually get serious, you’ll feel the shift in their energy. their voice might go softer, maybe a little shaky, and they’ll look at you in this way that makes it clear. they’ll tell you that the feelings kinda snuck up on them. like, one day you were just... there. being you. and suddenly, they were thinking about you all the time. they might even admit they tried to brush it off, told themselves “nah, we’re just friends” but it didn’t work. because the feelings were real and they grew. they’ll say something like, “i didn’t expect this... but here we are.” and it’ll hit you right in the chest. you might even be surprised too maybe you didn’t see them like that before, or maybe you just never imagined it happening like this.

✮ the energy behind it this moment is gonna shift everything. it’ll be emotional, kinda messy, but really honest. they’ll probably be scared you don’t feel the same not because they doubt themselves, but because they never thought this would actually happen. they’re gonna feel super vulnerable, but also like they have to say it now or regret it forever. they might come forward at a time when they feel like they’re losing you. maybe you’re spending more time with someone else, or they’re just feeling distant and unsure. and that fear of losing you is what finally makes them speak up. expect raw, real emotion. no filter. it won’t be perfect, but it’ll be powerful. it’ll be that moment where everything’s on the table and you both realize things won’t ever go back to how they were.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ PILE FOUR this confession is not gonna be some grand, well-thought-out moment. it’s gonna just happen. totally unplanned. they’re not gonna sit there rehearsing it or anything. it’ll just slip out, probably when emotions are running high or you’re having one of those deep, soul-baring convos. one minute you're talking about life or the future or something kinda serious. even though it’s spontaneous, it’ll hit so hard. they might not even realize how romantic they’re being, but omg the way they look at you when they say it?? like you’re their whole world. it’s giving soft eyes. it’s the kinda thing where even if they fumble the words a little.

✮ what they'll say to you they’re not gonna sugarcoat a damn thing. they’ll just say it. plain and clear. like, you might ask something simple like “what do you want?” and they’ll hit you with the boldest, most straightforward “you.” they’ll mean it with their whole chest. like you might laugh nervously or be like “stop playing,” but they’ll be dead serious. they’re gonna keep showing you that they’re not just talking. this isn’t a little crush or a passing thing. they want you, not just physically, but emotionally, energetically, all of it. they’re not gonna let you pretend like it didn’t happen.

✮ the energy behind it it’s gonna feel like something big just clicked into place like the universe finally gave the green light. it’ll feel like this was always supposed to happen. like everything that led up to it suddenly makes sense. there’s passion. this isn’t just sparks flying. it’s soul-level alignment. you’ll both feel it. it’s intense in the best way, like the start of a whole new chapter that actually feels right. it’s giving “you’re my person” energy. and even if it’s a little scary or overwhelming at first, it’s also gonna feel so right and good.

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softly-faye · 5 days ago

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Rafe x reader who never stops talking and actually gets made fun of and people are always annoyed with her cause she’s charge rbox and like smut where she won’t stop talking and Rafe likes it! Pls pls pls

𝐌𝐫𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐛𝐨𝐱 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

(I could eat that girl for lunch - yeah she dances on my tongue, taste like she might be the one…)

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚˚

The sheets were cream colored and sun-warmed. The golden light slipping in from the window made everything feel like a dream. Dust floated lazily in the air like a slow dance and somewhere in the background a soft indie song played from a speaker that neither of them had touched in over an hour.

Rafe’s head was buried between her thighs and his hands were pressed snug around her waist, fingers curled possessively like she was the most precious thing he’d ever touched. She was half sprawled across the bed, her legs draped over his shoulders, her toes flexing every time he hit the spot just right. Which, to be fair, was basically every five seconds. He had studied her. He knew what made her sigh, what made her shiver, what made her melt into the mattress like sugar on a stove.

And yet.

“Do you think Anna’s boyfriend actually cheated on her? I mean like actually cheated. Like the bad kind. With touching. Because I feel like— oh— I feel like guys just get so weird when they’re guilty and he’s been acting so weird, like weird weird, not cute weird.”

Her voice was breathy but still going a mile a minute. Her fingers combed lazily through his hair, petting him like he was her therapy cat and not a man currently giving her his full devoted attention with his mouth.

Rafe didn’t lift his head, just huffed against her, warm breath making her twitch.

“Baby.”

“Hm?”

“I am literally tongue deep in your pretty little pussy and you wanna talk about Anna’s crusty man?”

She giggled. A soft, high pitched little sound that made his chest feel all gooey. Her hips squirmed and he tightened his grip, pressing her back down like she was a soft pillow he wanted to keep still.

“Well yeah, because I just remembered and it’s driving me crazy. Like, why else would he hide his location on Snap?”

“Maybe so he doesn’t get interrupted while trying to text back. Like me. Right now.”

Another laugh bubbled out of her and her thighs trembled. Rafe went right back in, licking her slowly, thoroughly, like he was tasting her for the first time and never wanted to stop. She tasted sweet, like heat and sugar and something almost citrusy. He moaned softly into her and she gasped, back arching ever so slightly.

“Mmm, Rafe,” she whispered, voice all soft and dreamy now. “Oh that… okay that’s… ohhhkay. Yeah. Just like that. Mmm.”

She was dazed for all of ten seconds.

Then.

“You know what’s underrated? Velvet cake. Like not red velvet, because duh, but like pink velvet or even blue velvet. I saw this girl on TikTok make a lavender velvet cake and it looked so good, I think it was lavender flavored too and— oh— oh my god that little swirl thing you just did, what even was that.”

Rafe chuckled against her again and looked up just enough to meet her eyes. They were wide and glossy, her mouth open in that soft ‘oh’ shape he loved. Her cheeks were flushed and glowing and her hair was all messed up around her like some kind of halo.

“Velvet cake. You’re really telling me about cake while I’m eating you out?”

“I can’t help it, my brain is just full of tabs,” she sighed, hips twitching when his tongue flicked at her again, slow and indulgent. “Like I’m here in the moment but I’m also like… what if I made velvet cupcakes with edible glitter?”

“Sweetheart.”

“Yes?”

“I love you but you gotta give me something to work with here.”

“You are working with something,” she teased, running her fingers down his jaw, tapping at his cheek playfully. “You’re doing such a good job. Gold star. Seriously. Five stars on Yelp. I’d leave a tip.”

He smirked, wicked and amused, then buried his face back into her without another word. This time he sucked gently at the spot he knew made her squirm and she let out the cutest sound he’d ever heard in his life. A little breathy moan, all soft and high and fluttery, followed by her thighs pressing around his ears like they were hugging him.

“Mmm, oh my god, okay… wait… Rafe… okay I think I might… yeah.”

“You think?” he teased, voice muffled against her. “You better be sure.”

She moaned again, one hand flying up to cover her eyes like she was overwhelmed. Her words came out in a jumble.

“I used to have such a crush on my math teacher in tenth grade, is that weird? I just remembered because you said sure and he always said sure in that same tone and oh my god Rafe I’m gonna—”

“Baby.”

“Mm?”

“Focus.”

She whimpered. She actually whimpered. Then nodded, brows scrunched like it physically hurt to keep her mouth shut.

He kept going, steady and gentle and firm, every stroke of his tongue drawing another cute sound out of her. She was trying so hard to stay quiet now, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her hand fisting the sheets.

“I love you,” she blurted, eyes fluttering. “I love you so much. You’re so good to me. So good. Rafe. Rafe.”

Her legs were shaking now. Her whole body was glowing, the light from the window casting a golden shimmer over her flushed skin.

“I love you too, chatterbox,” he murmured against her. “Now let go for me.”

And she did.

Right there in the warm, soft sheets, with the music humming in the background and the scent of sun and skin and sweetness wrapping around them like a blanket. She moaned, high and soft and so pretty it made his chest ache. Her body trembled under his mouth and he held her close, riding it out with her, kissing her through every twitch and sigh.

When she finally melted into the bed, completely boneless and glowing, he crawled up beside her and kissed her forehead.

“So,” he whispered, brushing her hair back with a grin. “Still thinking about velvet cake?”

She giggled again, that soft airy giggle that made his heart squeeze.

“Maybe,” she whispered. “But mostly I’m thinking about how lucky I am.”

Rafe kissed her again, slow and warm, and pulled her close.

“I’m the lucky one, baby.”

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formulaonecrumbs · 1 month ago

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spending my 20’s on you

Lando Norris x university student!reader

summary: lando and reader navigate the ups and downs of being young and in love.

warnings: implied ‘first time’ but not full smut, kissing, sexual tension, angst, fluff, emotional depth, light swearing, not explicit but suggestive, angst with happy ending, mutual pining, some misunderstandings, low-key just a whirlwind of shit.

A/N: this is just multiple scenarios of lando and reader being 20 and in love. (READ) backstory: they’re highschool sweethearts, been dating since they were 17. i forgot to mention it in the fic itself and now idk where to add it so yeah. my brain wouldn’t shut off so this is why this is so long (i think it’s the longest fic i’ve ever written) also i didn’t edit almost any of it, so not much italicising for emphasis, even tho i love doing that. i’m too lazy, writing this took it OUT of me. anyways enjooyyyyyy!!! love u, cuties 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

the dorm room feels warmer than usual when you both stumble in, laughing about something you’ve already forgotten. lando’s arm is around your shoulders, and you’re leaning into him like it’s second nature.

“god, your uni mates are so weird,” he mutters, kicking off his shoes.

you flop onto the edge of your bed, tugging your jacket off. “you’re the one who told that story about getting stuck in your wetsuit.”

“they asked!”

you giggle, flopping back and watching him through blurry eyes.

he looks good. a little flushed. soft curls a bit messy. his hoodie is riding up, and you can see a sliver of skin and the band of his calvin klein underwear when he lifts his arms to stretch.

your stomach flips.

he notices you watching.

“what?”

you shake your head. “nothing.”

but he keeps looking at you.

and you’re still looking at him.

and then… the room goes quiet.

the kind of quiet where your heart feels too loud in your chest.

lando walks over slowly, kneeling in front of where you’re sitting. “can i ask you something?”

you nod.

“how long have we been dancing around this?”

you swallow. “a while.”

he reaches for your hand, his fingers warm. “we don’t have to, you know. not tonight. not ever. not if you’re not sure.”

you are.

you’ve been sure for a while.

so instead of answering, you lean forward and kiss him.

he exhales sharply, like he’s been waiting for that.

it starts slow. nervous. both of you a little unsure, a little buzzed, still giggling in between kisses.

“ow, you elbowed me—”

“your hoodie string is in my mouth—”

but then he pulls away, looking down at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

“are you okay?” he whispers.

you nod. “are you?”

“yeah,” he breathes, smiling a little. “just… really want to do this right.”

“you are,” you say.

and you mean it.

because it’s him.

because it’s always been him.

and it’s not perfect. not even close.

you knock your head on the wall at one point. the bed creaks too much. someone in the hallway yells and makes you both laugh halfway through.

but it’s warm. and slow. and real.

his hands are soft. yours are shaking a little. there’s so much kissing you lose track of time.

“you okay?” he asks again, forehead resting against yours.

“yeah,” you whisper. “don’t stop.”

he doesn’t.

he holds you the entire time.

kisses every inch of your face when it’s over.

you lie there after, tangled in sheets and sweat and silence, just staring at the ceiling and holding hands.

“you’re amazing,” he mumbles sleepily.

you turn your head toward him, nose brushing his.

“lando?”

“yeah?”

“me too.”

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

you wake up before him.

his arm is slung around your waist, his face tucked into your neck, breathing slow and even. there’s a faint sunbeam slipping through the dorm blinds, casting soft light across the mess of clothes on your floor.

you blink slowly, brain still fuzzy. the night flashes through your head in pieces—warm hands, breathless kisses, his voice soft in your ear.

you feel him shift behind you.

a sleepy groan.

then a very tired, very raspy, very adorable:

“‘m i dead?”

you laugh, and he tightens his hold on you, pulling you back against him.

“if you are, this is a really weird afterlife,” you mumble.

he noses at your jaw, half-asleep. “then i’ll stay dead.”

the room is quiet. safe. lando’s fingers trace shapes into your hip lazily, like he’s not even thinking about it. he still smells like you—your shampoo, your dorm, the night you shared.

you turn slightly, and his eyes flutter open.

he smiles. that soft, sleepy smile that melts your insides.

“hi,” he says.

you grin. “hi.”

you’re both quiet for a second. then he says, “so… last night.”

“last night.”

he tilts his head. “was really, really good.”

you nod. “yeah.”

“like. top ten moments of my life.”

you snort. “just ten?”

“i’m leaving room for our wedding,” he says, dead serious.

you shove him, laughing. “you’re such an idiot.”

“your idiot.”

he won’t stop kissing your shoulder.

you won’t stop smiling.

the duvet is halfway off the bed. your legs are tangled together. neither of you make a move to get up.

“hey,” lando whispers.

“what?”

he cups your face gently, thumb brushing your cheek. “you sure you’re okay?”

you nod. “i’m really okay.”

he kisses you again—slow and sweet and so full of love it makes your chest ache.

“cool,” he says. “’cause i was gonna ask to do that again. like. a million more times.”

you roll your eyes. “you’re so romantic.”

“you literally cried after.”

“that was emotional release!”

“you were like—‘oh my god i love you so much.’”

“you mocked me?!”

“i treasured you.”

he pulls you closer, grinning into your skin. “you’re stuck with me now, by the way.”

“i know.”

“good.”

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

lando’s back home. two cities away. two train rides. one entire eternity.

it’s been three days.

three days since he left your dorm. three days since that night. three days since he kissed you like you were the only thing that existed and made you feel like your heart was beating in places you didn’t know hearts could reach.

you’ve talked, obviously. little texts. voice notes. blurry selfies.

but it’s not enough.

it’s so not enough.

your phone buzzes.

lando: you up?

you call him before you can reply.

he picks up after one ring.

“hey,” he says, and he already sounds breathless. like he ran to answer.

you smile, pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders. “hey.”

he groans. “i miss you.”

“i miss you more.”

“no. like. i actually miss you. like i feel sick. you ruined me.”

you laugh softly. “oh, so it’s my fault?”

“you cursed me,” he says, dramatic. “i’ve been sitting in my bed thinking about your stupid mouth for three hours.”

you bury your face in your pillow, already warm all over. “lando.”

“no. don’t ‘lando’ me. you don’t get it. i’m ruined. do you know how annoying it is to go from literally falling asleep next to you to this?”

you sigh. “i know. i hate this.”

“i keep reaching for you in my sleep.”

you go quiet.

he does too.

then, softer: “it’s worse now.”

“i know.”

“because now i know what it’s like. all of it. all of you.”

you swallow. “lando…”

“i miss your skin,” he says quietly. “and your laugh. and how warm your hands are. and the way you look when you’re half-asleep and trying to pretend you’re not.”

your heart is doing flips.

“i miss your back,” he adds, completely serious. “and your knees. and that little freckle on your hip.”

you smile. “you remember that?”

“i kissed it. i remember all of you.”

you’re silent for a second, heart so full you think it might spill out of you.

then you whisper, “i keep replaying it. over and over. in my head. like a movie.”

“same.”

“i can’t sleep in my bed now. it feels weird.”

“mine’s too cold.”

you both sigh at the same time.

“i wish i was there.”

“i wish you were here.”

“i’d hold you so tight.”

“i’d never let you go.”

lando groans again. “you’re so annoying.”

“you called me, idiot.”

“because i missed you.”

“i missed you more.”

“not possible.”

“try me.”

“fine. come here.”

you smile into the phone. “lando.”

“i’m serious. ditch class. run away with me.”

“and go where?”

“don’t care. as long as you’re there.”

the line goes quiet for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. it’s soft. warm. you can hear him breathing. feel your heart slowing down a bit.

then he whispers, “i love you, you know.”

“i know,” you whisper back. “i love you too.”

“good,” he says. “i’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“soon.”

but not soon enough.

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

you don’t even remember what set it off.

maybe a missed text. a call that didn’t come.

maybe it was the way you asked if he could visit next weekend and he didn’t answer right away.

“you always have an excuse,” you say, sitting at the edge of your bed, staring down at your phone. “just admit it, you don’t wanna come.”

lando scoffs on the other end of the line. “what? that’s not true—”

“you hesitated.”

“because i was thinking,” he snaps. “i’ve got training, i’ve got classes—i’m not sitting around doing nothing, you know?”

your chest tightens. “and i don’t have things going on too?”

“that’s not what i meant.”

“no,” you cut in, voice sharp. “you never mean it, right? until i’m the one sitting here crying because you forgot again. because you left me on read. again. because you said you’d try harder and then didn’t.”

“jesus christ,” he mutters. “why do you always do this? why does everything have to be a test?”

you go quiet.

there’s a shift on his side of the line. you can almost hear the regret settle in—but he doesn’t say anything.

you blink back the sudden sting in your eyes. “you know what? maybe it is a test. and maybe you’re failing.”

silence.

then, softly: “maybe i am.”

you don’t even know what you expected. not that. and not the way it feels like everything inside you just broke open.

“i’ll call you later,” he says, voice distant.

“lando—”

but he’s already hung up.

the silence after is unbearable.

you don’t sleep that night. not really. you toss and turn and stare at your phone, willing it to light up. hoping he’d take it back. hoping he’d say something.

but he doesn’t.

and the next morning, you walk through your day in a fog, barely listening, barely speaking. you sit in the campus café with some classmates and sip your coffee like it’ll fix anything. one of the girls leans across the table, curious and nosy.

“so… you and lando still together?”

you nod. “yeah.”

she raises a brow. “long-distance? wow. impressive. i couldn’t do that at our age.”

you laugh softly. it sounds wrong. “why not?”

“i mean…” she shrugs. “we’re twenty. you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. don’t you think it’s a little too serious?”

someone else at the table laughs. “right? people act like twenty-year-olds can’t just… date. without planning their whole future together.”

you freeze a little. smile like it doesn’t hurt. like your chest isn’t already bruised from last night.

“yeah,” you say. “maybe.”

but the words stick. they echo.

too serious. too young. whole life ahead of you.

and you hate that for a second—you wonder if they’re right.

it takes two days.

two full days of silence before lando calls.

it’s late. you’re curled up in bed, scrolling mindlessly, trying to pretend you’re fine.

when your phone lights up, your heart leaps. and then crashes back down again.

but you answer.

his voice is soft. cautious. “hey.”

you say nothing.

he exhales. “i deserved that. i just… i didn’t know how to call you after what i said.”

you stay quiet.

“i shouldn’t have said i was failing. i shouldn’t have hung up. i was pissed, but not at you. i’m sorry.”

you close your eyes. “i didn’t mean what i said either.”

“i know.”

there’s a pause. a heavy one.

“someone said something,” you admit, voice small.

“what?”

“just this girl in class. she said we were too young to be this serious. that we should be living our lives, not tying ourselves down.”

lando doesn’t answer right away.

“it got in my head,” you say, softer now. “and then after what you said… i don’t know. maybe we are too young.”

his voice comes out quiet but steady. “we’re not.”

“how do you know?”

“because i’ve already lived without you,” he says. “and it was fine, but it wasn’t this. it wasn’t us. and if this is what tying myself down looks like, then chain me to the fucking floor.”

you blink, your breath catching.

“i know we’re twenty,” he goes on. “i know everyone thinks we should be partying and flirting and figuring things out. but i have. i figured it out the second i met you.”

you stay silent, too overwhelmed to speak.

“i want to come see you,” he says. “this weekend. i’ll skip training, i’ll take the train, i’ll do whatever. just—please let me come.”

you swallow hard. “okay.”

he lets out a breath. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

another pause. then, softly: “you’re it for me.”

you close your eyes again. but this time, you smile.

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

he shows up saturday afternoon, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, hair a mess from the train, and you nearly knock him over when you throw yourself into his arms.

“missed you,” he mumbles into your neck.

“you better have,” you whisper back.

the first few hours are easy. you fall back into each other like no time has passed—like he never said those things, like you never cried yourself to sleep after.

you drag him to your favorite coffee place, then show him around campus, fingers laced the entire time. he asks about your classes and the annoying girl in your literature seminar. you tease him for getting lost in your dorm hallway.

it’s only when the sun goes down and you’re curled up in bed, limbs tangled, his hoodie hanging off your frame, that the conversation shifts.

“so,” he says quietly, his hand tracing shapes on your hip. “that girl who said we were too young to be serious.”

you groan. “please don’t bring her up.”

“nah, i want to. because… i get it. why it stuck with you.”

you turn to look at him, eyes wide.

he shrugs. “it’s a scary thought. being all in. forever.”

your chest tightens. “so you do think it’s too much?”

“no,” he says, instantly. “i think it’s a lot. but it’s the right kind of lot.”

you blink.

“like… yeah, we’re twenty. maybe people think we’re insane for talking about the future already. but i want it all with you.”

you stay quiet, heart beating too fast.

“like, i want to get a flat together. a tiny one with shitty plumbing and a weird neighbor who always plays techno music at 2am. and i wanna argue over what rug to buy, and who used the last of the oat milk.”

you laugh, soft and surprised.

“and i want to marry you,” he adds, voice even softer now. “like—actually. one day. you in some pretty dress, me forgetting my vows halfway through because i’m too busy staring.”

you bury your face in his chest, and he just holds you tighter.

“and kids,” he mumbles into your hair. “not soon. but eventually. little versions of you running around? i mean, yeah. i’m doomed.”

you giggle, half-laugh, half-sob. “what if they look like you?”

“then they’ll be cute but annoyingly stubborn. like, can you imagine? a five-year-old me refusing to eat broccoli?”

you laugh again, and he tilts your chin up gently.

“you really see all that?” you ask.

he doesn’t hesitate. “i do.”

you don’t say anything—you just kiss him. long and slow and full of everything you can’t put into words yet. when you finally pull away, breathless and quiet, you whisper:

“i want all that too.”

he grins like he’s just won the lottery.

“good,” he says. “now we just have to survive your final exams and my next race weekend.”

“and the oat milk arguments.”

“especially the oat milk arguments.”

A/N: (alternate scenario of when he visits cuz i can’t help but write make out scenes with lando :p it’s my favourite 🤷‍♀️)

you don’t even make it past the front door.

he’s barely inside your dorm when you’re already on him—fingers in his hair, lips at his jaw, pulling him close like he might disappear again if you don’t.

“hi,” he mumbles between kisses, grinning like a fool. “missed you too, apparently.”

you just hum, mouth dragging down to his neck. “shut up.”

he laughs, hands on your waist, pulling you against him until there’s barely space to breathe. “you’ve got roommates—”

“they’re gone.”

“all of them?”

“do you care?”

he doesn’t answer. just presses you back against the door and kisses you properly. full and warm and a little desperate. it’s the kind of kiss that feels like a sigh of relief. like he’s been holding his breath for two weeks and finally let go.

your hands tug at the hem of his hoodie, slipping underneath to feel warm skin and familiar lines. his breath catches.

“this isn’t fair,” he murmurs against your lips. “you in this little top… i’m trying to be respectful here.”

you grin. “you’re failing.”

“miserably.”

you stumble backwards, dragging him toward your bed, laughing when he trips over your backpack. you land in a heap, tangled in sheets and limbs and breathless laughter, and he kisses you again, slower now.

“you know i’m obsessed with you, right?” he whispers, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your shoulder.

“yeah,” you breathe. “same.”

the rest of the world falls away. no noise, no schedules, no deadlines—just the soft hum of your dorm heater and the way his thumb rubs lazy circles into your hip.

just his lips, and your hands, and the space between kisses where you smile against each other’s mouths like idiots.

you don’t go further. you don’t need to.

it’s enough to kiss and kiss and kiss until you’re dizzy. until you forget what day it is. until your lips are sore and your hearts feel a little lighter.

just twenty and in love and not caring about anything else.

THE END :>

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 fic #lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagines #lando norris angst #lando fic #lando fanfic #lando x reader #lando fluff #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 angst #lando norris smut

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kxsagi · 2 months ago

Note

Hiiii!! I like your account very much and the way you write is great. I thought something like, sae x fem reader, reader is cheerful, understanding, playful and talkative. She's always the one who initiates the conversation, the contact with Sae. But one day, she's worried that Sae is uncomfortable, so she doesn't talk to him or hug him, so what if Sae noticed?

“𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐃 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐬”

a/n: thank you so much!!! this was kinda easy to write bc i am definitely this type of person lol

also, guys i swear i see requests in my inbox, i write them down for future reference, and when i’m about to write them, they’re like gone??? 😭

like i was gonna write it, i just need a couple days because i have other things going on, and i will respond if i am not comfortable writing it lol

(art credits go to immmso_ko on X)

sae itoshi isn’t used to being the one who reaches out first.

he doesn’t need to.

not when you’re around.

you, with your sunshine grin and warm hands. you, who waltz into his life every morning like you’re the human embodiment of a golden retriever with a caffeine addiction.

you, who hum off-key to whatever song’s been rotting in your brain all week. who pops into the kitchen just to press a surprise kiss to his cheek and dramatically declare, “that was your daily serotonin dose. you’re welcome.”

you, who casually slip your fingers under the hem of his shirt when you hug him just to be a little nuisance about it. “oh wow, your back is so warm. you’re like a human heater. lucky me.”

sae rolls his eyes every time. pretends to be annoyed. but he never stops you.

and maybe that’s the problem.

because now, he’s starting to think he’s been too good at pretending.

it takes him a while to figure out what feels off.

at first, he thinks maybe he’s just in a fouler mood than usual. his teammates were particularly slow during training. his coach was nagging more than necessary. the post-practice traffic was a nightmare.

but then he walks into the apartment.

and it hits him.

the space is… quiet. too quiet.

no overenthusiastic “sae!! you’re home!!” followed by you practically launching yourself at him like a feral cat on catnip. no sudden, unsolicited dance breaks in the kitchen while you wait for the water to boil. not even a playful jab about how he never texts you when he’s on his way home.

just… silence.

he finds you on the couch, scrolling through your phone. when you glance up and smile, it’s small. polite. the kind you’d give to a coworker you barely tolerate.

okay. weird.

he figures maybe you’re just tired. long day or whatever. but no, even when he sits next to you, you don’t do… anything.

you don’t tuck your legs over his lap. you don’t lean against him or comb your fingers through his hair like you usually do when he’s within a five-foot radius.

you’re not touching him.

the realization makes his eye twitch.

he’s not even being subtle about his staring at this point. he’s glaring at you like you’ve personally wronged him. and you, being the self-aware ray of sunshine that you are, notice immediately.

"what’s wrong?" you ask softly.

he narrows his eyes. "you tell me."

you blink. "huh?"

"you’re acting weird," he says bluntly, and you blink again, caught off guard by the sharpness in his voice.

"what? no, i’m not," you say with a too-quick shake of your head.

he squints at you. unimpressed. he’s not letting this go.

"you are," he deadpans, voice low and flat.

and that’s when you start to sweat.

you glance away, suddenly very interested in the coffee table. "i’m not," you mutter under your breath, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve.

but he’s not buying it.

"yes, you are."

"no, i’m not."

"you are."

"i’m not."

he leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. his eyes narrow further. "you are."

"i’m not!!"

a brief, heated staring contest ensues.

… you lose. obviously.

you sigh, slumping back against the couch. your shoulders sink slightly, and for the first time tonight, you look… sheepish. almost guilty.

"i just…" you exhale softly, voice quieter than before. "i didn’t want to be… too much."

his eyes flicker. "what?" he mutters.

your fingers pick at a loose thread in your sleeve, suddenly avoiding his gaze again.

"i wasn’t sure if you liked it when i… y’know, talk so much. or cling to you all the time. you never… complain or anything, but you never really initiate either, so…" you trail off, your voice growing smaller. "i thought maybe you were just putting up with it. so i didn’t want to, like… overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable."

sae stares at you.

and suddenly, he feels like a massive fucking idiot.

because here you are, walking on eggshells around him – him – when all you’ve ever done is make his life warmer. brighter. easier.

and what did he do?

he let you think he didn’t want it.

he presses his lips into a thin line. swallows down the brief twinge of self-loathing and quietly reaches for your hand.

the moment his fingers brush against yours, you freeze slightly. but when he intertwines them with deliberate slowness, you blink, clearly caught off guard.

"don’t do that again," he mutters, voice low but steady. "don’t pull away."

your brows furrow slightly, confused. "but i thought –"

"don’t," he cuts you off, and you immediately fall silent. he squeezes your hand slightly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, gaze unwavering.

"i like it," he mutters, voice a little strained, almost like the words are foreign to him. "when you talk. when you touch me. i…" he inhales sharply, eyes narrowing slightly, almost annoyed at himself for being so bad at this. "i like it. alright?"

you blink at him, wide-eyed.

he waits for you to say something. anything.

but then you just… burst into laughter.

his eyes narrow slightly, but before he can ask what the hell is so funny, you’re suddenly climbing into his lap.

and for once, he doesn’t flinch.

he exhales sharply when your arms wrap around his neck, pressing yourself against him like you’re trying to fuse your body with his. your fingers immediately find their way under his shirt, cool palms pressing against his bare skin like they belong there.

"you’re such a grump," you mumble into his shoulder, voice muffled but clearly teasing. "but you’re my grump."

he rolls his eyes, exasperated. but his arms tighten around you anyway.

"don’t push your luck," he mutters.

but he makes no effort to let you go.

#the grumpy x sunshine trope is always so adorable #sae needs his sunshine (me)#sae itoshi #itoshi sae #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x fem reader #vitamin D withdrawal symptoms

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cl0udy3 · 1 month ago

Text

𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒

ellie williams x dina's sister!reader wc: 16045 ✩ pt1 | pt2

You let Jesse lead you in, your hand resting lightly on the crook of his elbow. The music sounded like an old folk song—probably one someone had taught the band from memory, upbeat and clumsy in the best way. The lights strung from tree to tree swung gently in the breeze, casting warm shadows across the square.

Jesse tugged you toward the food stalls with a grin. “I’m telling you—Maria said they’re frying bread with actual sugar. Like, sugar. Not weird beet syrup.”

You snorted. “I didn’t even know we had sugar.”

“We don’t. That’s why this is a big deal.”

You let him drag you between booths strung with twinkle lights and old cloth banners. The makeshift signs leaned sideways—chalk lettering smudged, wood cracked from too many repurposings. Everything smelled like cinnamon and smoke and yeast.

“Okay,” Jesse said, stopping at a stall where someone was dropping dough into sizzling oil. “This is it. Prepare to be spiritually moved.”

The woman behind the stand handed over two paper-wrapped pastries, still steaming.

You bit into yours—and immediately winced.

“What the hell?” you said through a mouthful of hot air. “This is… weirdly chewy.”

Jesse choked on his own bite laughing. “You gotta get past the weird shell part. It’s crunchy, not chewy.”

“It’s definitely chewy.”

“You’re ungrateful.”

You grinned around another bite, because he wasn’t wrong—it was good, in that weird, undercooked comfort food kind of way. Sweet and greasy and warm in a way that made your stomach feel a little less hollow.

You moved from stand to stand. Tried roasted corn, laughed at Jesse when he got honey stuck in his hair from a too-eager spoonful of syrup, sipped cider from old glass bottles passed around by volunteers.

There was a little booth filled with handmade things—stitched coin purses, carved buttons, crooked little necklaces with beads that didn’t match. You ran your fingers along a strand of green stones, then let your hand drop. It was pretty. It just didn’t feel like yours.

Jesse watched you out of the corner of his eye. “You should get something. Treat yourself.”

You gave him a weak smile. “I don’t need anything.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t deserve something.”

You didn’t answer that. Just moved on.

Someone was handing out fried squash at the next booth—coated in something crunchy and salty. Jesse tried to get you to eat a whole piece in one bite.

“You first,” you said, already wary.

He did. Nearly burned his tongue.

You laughed so hard you had to lean against the stall.

“That was,” he gasped, fanning his mouth, “a betrayal of the highest order.”

“Justice,” you corrected. “That was justice.”

The night was warm and messy and a little too loud, but Jesse had a way of cutting through it—making you feel like the two of you were moving in a different rhythm than everyone else.

He nudged your elbow as you passed a stall where someone had tried to hang fairy lights shaped like stars. Half of them were burnt out. “You know,” he said, “if this was a date, this would be the part where I awkwardly mention how pretty you look and then immediately ruin it by tripping over something.”

You raised a brow. “If this was a date?”

He grinned. “It’s not?”

You rolled your eyes and kept walking. “It is now, apparently.”

But there was something warm in your chest for a second.

Just for a second.

And then the music changed—slowed into something older, softer, with a rhythm that pulled you gently toward the edge of the dance floor.

You hesitated. Just for a second.

Then Jesse turned to you, one hand already extended, that half-smile tugging at his mouth.

“Come on,” he said, eyes crinkling. “Just one?”

You looked at his hand.

At the soft glow of lights above. The blur of bodies already swaying in time.

And you nodded. “Yeah. Why not?”

Just one.

He didn’t make a big thing of it. Just took your hand, led you toward the edge of the makeshift dance floor, and twirled you once—not gracefully, but enough to make you laugh.

You found the rhythm together, swaying slowly as people danced around you. His hand rested light on your waist. Your head tilted just a little closer than before. And for a few minutes, it was nice.

Simple. Safe.

You weren’t thinking about Ellie.

Not yet.

Then, somewhere behind you, laughter rang out.

You turned your head—and there they were.

Ellie and Dina had joined the floor, already half-tangled in motion. Ellie was trying to dance, you could tell. But her timing was a mess, too stiff and awkward. Dina laughed, full and bright, reaching for Ellie’s hands to guide her through the steps.

“She’s terrible,” you murmured.

Jesse smiled faintly. “She’s trying.”

Ellie tripped, almost stepped on Dina’s foot, and muttered something under her breath. Dina leaned in to tease her, and Ellie’s mouth tugged into that crooked, sideways grin—the one that always pulled something out of you.

They moved together more easily now, settling into the music.

Still clumsy. But better.

Like they were finding the rhythm together.

Your feet stuttered a little.

Jesse’s hand tightened just slightly on your waist, steadying you.

You tried to focus on Jesse again.

Tried to smile. To stay in that soft little space you’d carved out for yourself. Warm hands. Familiar laughter. A boy who always showed up when he said he would.

But the air shifted. A subtle pause in the music. A ripple of movement near the far edge of the floor.

You glanced over.

And your eyes found them immediately.

Ellie and Dina, still swaying. Still close. Only now, they weren’t dancing anymore. Not really. They were murmuring something to each other, faces tucked close, noses nearly brushing.

Ellie looked soft in the glow of the string lights. Her expression was open in a way it rarely was. Vulnerable. Tender. Her eyes half-lidded, locked on Dina’s mouth like it was the only thing in the world that made sense.

And then—

Their lips met.

It wasn’t a question, or a maybe, or an accident. It was sure. Solid. The kind of kiss that feels like a decision.

Your breath hitched.

You didn’t realize your smile had dropped until Jesse’s hand shifted gently on your back.

“Hey,” he said, quiet. “You good?”

You didn’t answer.

Your chest tightened, too full and too empty all at once.

The music kept playing. The lights kept swaying. The crowd kept spinning around you like nothing had happened.

But you weren’t in it anymore.

You were just watching them—frozen in that second, in that kiss, in that look that said everything they hadn't said before now.

You stepped back from Jesse.

Not suddenly. Just enough.

He looked at you, confused, starting to speak—but you shook your head. Barely.

The air felt too thin. The lights too bright.

The whole space pressed in around you, too warm, too loud, too everything.

You needed to get out.

Now.

You turned and slipped through the edge of the dance floor, dodging past couples and hands and lanterns. You didn’t stop when someone called your name. Didn’t look back.

Didn’t breathe until the music was behind you, muffled by the trees and the walls of the nearest building.

And still, it wasn’t enough.

You pressed your hand to your chest like you could hold yourself together that way. Like you could keep from unraveling completely.

Footsteps followed—quick but careful.

Jesse.

“Hey,” he said, catching up. “Wait—hey. What happened?”

You didn’t turn around.

“Hey,” he said again, softer now. Closer. “Talk to me.”

You stood still for a second.

Then your voice cracked.

“I can’t.”

He didn’t touch you, didn’t crowd you, just stood close. Steady. A silent offer.

“I thought I could just—” You stopped. Shook your head. “I saw them.”

Jesse exhaled. Quiet. Like maybe he’d seen too.

“I’m sorry.”

You let the silence settle between you.

Then: “It’s not your fault.”

He still didn’t try to fix it. Still didn’t say something stupid like you’ll find someone else or you’re better off.

He just stood there with you. In the dark. In the cold.

While you tried not to fall apart.

You didn’t say much after that.

Didn’t need to.

Jesse walked you home in silence, hands in his jacket pockets, glancing over at you every few steps like he was checking to see if you were still breathing.

You weren’t crying. Not really.

BUt you looked like someone who wanted to disappear.

When you reached your porch, you fumbled with the key, fingers numb. Jesse took it from you without asking and unlocked the door.

He didn’t leave.

You didn’t ask him to stay, either.

He just stepped inside behind you and closed the door gently, like he was afraid it might break you if it slammed too hard.

You toed off your boots. Kicked them into a corner. Peeled off the dress slowly, folding it over your arm with more care than you had for yourself.

“Want tea?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“Water?”

Still no.

You just stood there in your room in an old hoodie and socks, arms crossed tight like they were holding you together. Jesse lingered in the doorway.

“I’m not going home tonight,” he said softly.

You didn’t argue.

He knew better. Knew that if he left, you’d sit there and spiral. Maybe wouldn’t sleep. Maybe wouldn’t eat. Might stare at the walls until your body gave out before your heart did.

So he made himself at home. Kicked off his boots. Grabbed the blanket from your bed and dropped it on the couch. Tossed you a pair of socks that didn’t have holes.

“You want me to sleep down here?”

You shrugged.

“I can sleep on the floor.”

You looked over at him. Finally. “Don’t be dumb.”

He smiled—just barely. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me all night.”

You ended up lying down first, back turned toward the wall.

You didn’t ask him to join you. But when the mattress dipped behind you, when he laid down with enough space between your bodies to be respectful but not distant, you didn’t stop him either.

He didn’t touch you. Didn’t try to talk. Just breathed slow and steady beside you. Just enough to remind you you weren’t alone.

You woke up before the sun.

You’re body ached like you’d been carrying something heavy all night. You stayed curled on your side, eyes barely open, staring at the soft edges of the curtain as morning crept in.

Your face felt tight. Sticky. You reached up and touched under your eyes, fingers coming away smudged with old mascara and salt.

You must’ve cried in your sleep.

Maybe not loud. But hard enough that it left behind the evidence.

Behind you, Jesse shifted.

He hadn’t moved much in the night. You’d felt the slow rise and fall of his breathing against your back, not touching but close enough to anchor you. Now he let out a quiet breath and sat up, rubbing his face.

“You up?” he asked, voice rough.

You didn’t answer right away. Just nodded against the pillow.

He reached over and gently pushed your hair out of your face, fingers brushing your temple. You flinched without meaning to. Not because it hurt—just because everything did.

Jesse didn’t take it personally. Just leaned back again and stared at the ceiling for a minute.

Then” “You look like you got into a fight with a raccoon.”

You huffed, weak and dry. “Thanks.”

“I mean it affectionately.”

You dragged yourself into a sitting position. Your whole body felt like it was underwater. The hoodie you’d fallen asleep in was wrinkled and damp at the collar. You wiped your eyes again, not that it helped.

“Bathroom’s still where you left it,” Jesse says gently. “Go clean up. I’ll make tea or… whatever you’ve got.”

You stood slowly, shoulders heavy. You didn’t want to see your reflection. But you went anyway.

When you looked in the mirror, you barely recognized yourself.

Your mascara was smudged halfway down your cheeks. Your lips were cracked. Your eyes were swollen.

You splashed cold water on your face, swiped away the worst of it with the edge of a towel. You didn’t look any better after, but at least you looked awake.

You reemerged to find Jesse sitting at the table with two chipped mugs in front of him, both steaming. He didn’t say anything when you sat down.

Just pushed one of them toward you.

You didn’t ask what was in it.

You just drank.

Jesse stayed for a little while longer.

Long enough to finish his drink. Long enough to make sure you didn’t go back to bed and stay there forever.

At some point, he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, watching you stir what was probably over-steeped tea in your cup.

“You should go outside,” he said. “Get some sun. Or just walk around.”

You didn’t respond.

He waited, then pushed off the frame and grabbed his jacket from where he’d draped it over the chair.

“I’ve got patrol this afternoon,” he said, quiet. “But I’ll come back later, okay?”

You nodded. Still didn’t look at him.

He paused at his door, keys in hand. “You’re not alone, y’know.”

You gave him the smallest shrug. It didn’t feel like enough, but it was all you had.

He left without pushing.

The quiet that followed didn’t feel peaceful. Just empty.

You sat there until the tea went cold, your fingers wrapped around the mug like it might give you something back. It didn’t

The rest of the day passed in the same blur. You wandered from room to room like you didn’t quite fit anywhere. Tried to read. Gave up. Thought about putting the dress away, but you couldn’t bring yourself to touch it.

Evening came.

You were still in the same hoodie. Hair half-dried from your rushed cleanup that morning. The sky outside was fading to pink and grey when someone knocked on the door.

You didn’t think. Just moved to open it, assuming Jesse had come back like he said he would.

You didn’t hesitate. You pulled open the door—and there she was.

Ellie.

Hands stuffed in her jacket pockets. Hair a little messy. Eyes wide like she hadn’t expected you to actually answer.

You froze.

She blinked. “Hey.”

Just one word.

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Your hand still on the door, heartbeat suddenly loud in your ears.

You didn’t say anything. Neither did she.

The silence between you buzzed. Not quite angry. Not quite anything. Just loud. Just there.

Ellie shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Her fingers twitched inside her jacket pockets.

You stood in the doorway, unsure if you were supposed to let her in or close the door in her face.

Eventually, she cleared her throat. “I—um.” Her voice cracked a little. “I didn’t think you’d answer.”

You still didn't say anything.

She gave a weak breath of a laugh. “Guess that’s fair.”

You leaned against the doorframe. Not to be casual. Just because your legs felt too tired to keep holding you up properly.

Ellie glanced past you, into the house. “Jesse here?”

You shock your head.

Eventually, she looked down at her boots. “I—I wasn’t sure if I should come,” she said. “But Jesse said you were having a hard time and…”

She trailed off.

You stayed in the doorway. One hand still gripping the knob.

Ellie rubbed at the back of her neck. Her voice dropped lower. “I saw you leave.”

You didn’t react.

She waited like she thought you might respond to that. You didn’t.

“I didn’t mean for you to see that,” she added, quieter. “Me and Dina. That wasn’t… planned. It just kind of… happened.”

Still nothing.

Ellie’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, but you didn’t hold her gaze. You looked somewhere over her shoulder, at the empty street behind her.

“You okay?” she asked.

That made your eyes flicker. Not in surprise—more like disbelief. She seemed to catch it.

“I mean—” she shifted again, flustered. “That was a dumb question. I know you’re not okay. I just—fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

A beat. Another.

You opened your mouth like you were going to say something. Then closed it again.

Ellie took a small step closer, her foot landing on the threshold—but she didn’t cross it.

“I just wanted to check in,” she said eventually. “Make sure you were still here.” You didn’t answer. But you didn’t close the door, either.

She took that as something. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe you didn’t even know what it meant.

She let out a soft breath and gave you a sad, crooked smile—barely there.

“I’ll go,” she said. “But… I’m around. If you wanna yell at me. Or say something. Or nothing.”

You didn’t move.

Ellie hesitated, like she still had more to say. But she didn’t say it. She just turned, and walked away.

You watched her go until she disappeared around the corner.

Then you shut the door. And sat down on the floor

You didn’t move for a long time after Ellie left. You just sat on the floor, back against the door, staring at nothing.

Your ears still rang from the quiet. And then it hit you. Like a wave you couldn’t brace for. Your chest caved in.

You folded forward, arms curling around your knees as the sob burst out of you—raw and shaking and too loud for how small you felt. Like your ribs had cracked open and everything you’d been holding in poured out all at once.

You buried your face in your arms, fingers digging into your sleeves, trying to ground yourself in something, anything that wasn’t this.

But there was no stopping it. No biting back. No pretending it didn’t matter. It mattered. It mattered so much it hurt.

And that was the worst part. How much it hurt. That it had been real, even if it hadn’t been enough.

You cried until your throat burned. Until your body ached from it. Until there was something left but the distant, familiar buzz of grief curling itself around your spine.

When it finally passed, you didn’t feel lighter.

You just felt empty.

It was late afternoon when the knock came again.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t even look. The door opened anyway—slow and careful.

You heard soft footsteps.

“Hey,” came Dina’s voice. Quiet. Tentative. “Just grabbing some stuff real quick. Didn’t think you’d be home.”

You didn’t respond.

She moved past the entryway toward the closet in the back where she kept some things when she stayed over. You stayed where you were—on the floor, blanket wrapped around your shoulders, face puffy and red and streaked with dried tears.

Dina must’ve seen you as she passed through. She stopped in the doorway.

“Oh,” she said, softly. Like the sound hurt her.

You looked up at her. Or through her. It was hard to tell.

Her arms were full of folded shirts, a pair of boots tucked under one elbow. She opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then paused.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said. “I just thought you might be out with Jesse.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t move.

The silence stretched between you again—different from the one you shared with Ellie. This had history in it. Weight.

Dina shifted the clothes in her arms, eyes darting between the floor and your face.

“I’ll be out of your way in a sec.”

Still, nothing from you.

She hesitated. Like she wanted to say something more. But maybe she knew better. She turned to leave. Then stopped at the door, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to be alone, you know.”

You flinched. But you didn’t respond. And Dina didn’t push.

She left quietly. Jesse didn’t come back that night. You didn’t blame him though.

You had willed yourself to move from the floor to the couch instead, maybe if you got tired which you didn’t, but it hurt less than sitting on hard wood.

You didn’t do much the next day, either. Didn’t open the blinds. Didn’t brush your hair. Barely drank water.

You sat in the same hoodie, same socks, wrapped in the same blanket on the same corner of the couch.

The world felt too far away to bother reaching for.

And then—soft knock. Familiar. You didn’t answer. Jesse came in anyway.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just set something down on the counter. Moved around your tiny kitchen with easy, practiced steps he’d done it a hundred times. Because he had.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye.

He unpacked food from a cloth bundle, something warm, something that smelled like garlic and broth and cheap cheese.

“You gotta eat,” he said. Not like a demand. Just like a fact.

You didn’t answer. But when he handed you the bowl, you took it. Ate slow mouthfuls, heavy and tasteless but necessary.

He didn’t hover. Just sat beside you, eating his own, legs pulled up on the couch, toes poking out of socks with holes in them.

Later, he brought you water.

Later still, he placed something soft on the coffee table in front of you.

You blinked at it.

Your journal.

He didn’t say anything. Just slid a pen beside it and leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You used to write,: he said, voice low. “Figured maybe it’d help. If not, that’s fine too.”

You looked at it. The familiar cover, worn at the edges. Your name scribbled inside the front flap like it belonged to someone else.

You didn’t touch it.

It got dark again.

He stayed. You didn’t ask him to.

When the quiet stretched too long, he grabbed a pillow and collapsed beside you, head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut.

“I’m staying again,” he muttered. “Don’t argue.”

You didn’t.

Eventually, Jesse’s breathing evened out beside you.

His arm was slung across his stomach, one leg bent awkwardly off the edge of the couch. You could hear the soft hum of his exhales. The occasional twitch of a foot. He was really out.

You envied him.

The quiet wasn’t heavy anymore. Not like before. But it wasn’t comforting. Either. Just… there.

You shifted forward, pulling the blanket tighter around you as you reached for the journal on the table.

Your fingers hovered above it for a second. Like touching it might make everything real again. Not louder, just more.

Then you picked it up.

It still smelled like old ink and dust. Still creaked a little when you opened it.

You flipped through past entries. There were fragments—things you’d forgotten writing. A sketch of the greenhouse. A list of names. A grocery list from three months ago with a tiny doodle of Ellie’s boots in the margin.

You turned the page.

Blank.

You held the pen like it might shake out the ache in your chest.

It started with one line. Then another.

You hadn’t planned to write anything, not really. But your hand moved anyway, as if your body knew what your heart couldn’t say out loud.

The candle flickered on the table, barely enough light to see. Your vision blurred almost immediately, tears spilling down your cheeks and dripping off your chin. Quiet. Constant. You didn’t even bother to wipe them away.

The page beneath your hand blurred and buckled with the weight of them, ink bleeding in soft rivers.

But your hand didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. The words just kept coming.

—

You stopped.

The pen clattered from your hand to the floor, landing with a soft thud against the wood.

You stared at the page—streaked with ink, warped with tears, full of things no one would ever read.

It looked like something that belonged in a museum or a seal box in a lover’s attic. Something tragic and important and irreversibly personal.

You didn’t feel better. But you felt emptied. That was something.

You woke up on the couch again.

Jesse was still there too—curled in the same spot he’d climbed last night, blanket slipping off his shoulder, one leg hanging off the edge like he’d lost a fight with gravity in his sleep.

You’d barely slept. Maybe an hour or two. Maybe none at all.

The journal sat closed on the table, pages still wrinkled from tears, your pen resting gently on top. You didn’t touch it this time. You just stared at it until the sunlight finally spilled in through the curtains.

Upstairs, everything was still. Your bedroom untouched. You hadn’t gone up there in days.

You didn’t know if you wanted to.

Eventually, Jesse stirred—stretching, groaning softly, blinking blearily in the golden light.

He glanced at you. Didn’t smile. Just looked.

“You sleep at all?” he asked, voice rough.

You shook your head.

He nodded, like he expected that. Still, he got up. Went to the kitchen. You heard him moving around—heating some water, rummaging through cabinets like he owned the place.

He came back with two mugs, handing one off without a word. You took it.

The tea was hot. A little bitter. Perfect.

He sat with you in the quiet, sipping slow, elbows on his knees.

Then he said it.

“Tommy came by this morning.”

Your eyes flicked toward him, but only for a second.

“Said they’re short for patrol. It’s an easy one. Just a loop through the fair west trail.”

You didn’t say anything.

He looked at you gently. “Not pushin’. Just letting you know it’s there.”

You nodded, barely.

Jesse stood. Stretched again, then moved toward the front food when a knock rattled it. You watched from the couch as he cracked it open.

“Hey,” came Tommy’s voice. “She doing alright?”

“She’s holding.”

A pause. Then another voice, quiet and familiar.

Joel.

“We don’t mean to crowd her. Just… checkin’ in.”

Jesse glanced over his shoulder at you—checking. You nodded once. He let them step in.

They didn’t go far. Just stood near the bottom of the stairs, looking like they weren’t sure if they were welcome.

“Didn’t mean to intrude,” Joel said. “Just thought maybe she’d want to see a familiar face.”

You didn’t get up. But you did speak. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Your voice was soft. Hoarse from disuse. But it was something.

Tommy gave a small, sad smile. “You ever feel ready to get back out there, you’ve got a spot.”

They didn’t stay long. Didn’t say much else. Just left the silence intact behind them.

Jesse returned to the couch. Sat beside you again, shoulder almost touching.

“You don’t have to,” he said after a while. “But it might help. You’d be with me the whole time. No pressure.”

You looked down into your mug. Your arms felt heavy. But your heart wasn’t caving in the way it had before. And for the first time in days, the idea of leaving didn’t feel impossible.

You didn’t go out the rest of the day. Not yet. But something had changed.

You stood up for longer than five minutes. Cleaned out the mug Jesse left on the table. Opened a window. Let the air in, even if it was cold and damp and smelled like smoke from someone’s breakfast fire down the road.

Jesse didn’t push you again. He just stood nearby—talked a little, made soup, fixed the loose cabinet hinge in your kitchen that had been bothering him for months. At some point he offered to bring a deck of cards or one of those dusty books no one ever finished.

You told him, “Maybe tomorrow.”

And you sort of meant it.

That night, you actually slept in your bed again. Alone.

The next morning, you woke up to soft sun pooling through the curtains. The air felt light somehow.

You didn’t feel good. Not even close. But you didn’t feel like a ghost anymore.

You stood, stretched, and wandered through the quiet hush of your room. Let your fingers graze along the dress, the mirror frame, the windowsill. Everything covered in a fine layer of dust like it had been waiting for you to come back.

You got dressed slowly. Layers. Warm. Worn-in.

The same way you used to dress before patrols. It felt strange, how automatic it was. Like muscle memory. Like stepping into a version of yourself that had gone quiet for too long.

You even braided your hair. It wasn’t neat, but it was off your face. Out of the way.

You stared at your reflection for a long time afterward. Didn’t look like yourself. Didn’t not look like yourself either.

You made your way to the closet where your bag sat, slumped in a corner—dusty, forgotten, straps tangled from how you shoved it in after the last patrol.

You crouched down and pulled it out, letting it fall open across your bed. You started packing. Slowly.

Water flask. Gloves. A spare rage. One of Jesse’s granola bars he stole from the kitchen.

Then your fingers brushed something familiar at the bottom of the bag.

You knew what it was before you even saw it.

You pulled it out. Ellie’s knife. You hadn’t realized you’d kept it in there. Maybe you’d forgotten. Maybe you hadn’t. The weight of it in your hand was familiar. Comfortable in a way that made your chest tighten.

You turned it over slowly. The handle was still scuffed. The initials she’d carved—small and almost invisible—still there.

Your throat closed. Your vision blurred. You sat on the edge of the bed, knife in one hand, fingers trembling. You could’ve cried. You almost did. But you didn’t let yourself. Not this time. You breathed through it. Gritted your jaw. Pressed the flat of the blade against your thigh. Just for the steadiness of it.

Then you slid it into the side pocket of your pack. Didn’t think about it too much. Didn’t assign it meaning. Maybe you’d return it. Maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you just needed something to hold.

You stood. Grabbed your bag, headed downstairs.

Downstairs was quiet. Soft light streamed through the curtains. Your bag was by the door. Your jacket was folded over the arm of the couch. You still had time before Jesse came by.

You weren’t sure what made you do it. Maybe it was the way the knife sat so heavily in your pocket.

Maybe it was just knowing you were about to step outside again—into the woods, into the unknown, into whatever the hell was waiting.

But something made you move.

You went to the drawer beside the bookshelf and pulled out two sheets of paper. Folded in the corners. Yellowing slightly at the edges. The kind you used for notes, or lists, or reminders you never followed.

You sat at the kitchen table. Picked up the pen still resting on top of your journal.

to dina. to ellie.

You stared at the pages after they were finished.

Didn’t reread them. Didn’t edit.

You folded them, hands trembling just slightly. Slipped each one into an old envelope from the drawer. Wrote their names on the front. Nothing more.

You left them by your journal on the coffee table and stared at them.

Just in case.

The knock came a little after. Two short raps, one longer one after. Jesse’s knock. Always the same.

You didn’t move right away. Just stared at the envelopes for a second longer.

Then you stood slowly, grabbed your bag and slipped your jacket on. You didn’t look at the mirror in the hall. You already knew what you looked like—hollowed out, too pale, eyes too tired to lie.

You opened the door.

Jesse stood there, hands in his pockets, hood up, color drawn tight against the fresh morning. He gave you a small, tired smile.

“Hey.”

His eyes searched your face. You knew he saw it—the way your shoulders didn’t sit quite right, the way your mouth was pinched like you were bracing for something. But he didn’t ask. Didn’t say anything.

Just nodded toward the street. “Ready?”

You adjusted the strap of your bag. “Yeah.”

The walk to the stables was quiet. The town hadn’t fully woken yet—just a few early risers moving through the fog drenched streets, murmurs of conversation rising from behind windows.

You and Jesse didn’t speak much.

He asked if you’d eaten. You lied and said yes. He asked if you brought enough ammo. You said you checked twice. He didn’t ask how you were. He didn’t need to.

When you reached the gates, the morning light had turned from pale grey to soft gold of late spring. The trees stretched long shadows across the road, and the watchtowers above buzzed faintly with radio chatter.

You mounted your horse slowly. Every movement felt distant—like watching someone else war your skin.

Jesse swings up beside you. Adjusted his grip on the reins. “We’re headed toward the west ridge. Should be quiet. Just a sweep.

You nodded.

He looked at you again. Longer this time. “You good?”

You didn’t answer at first. Then, “I’m here.”

That was all you could give him. And he didn’t push.

He just turned his horse, clicked his tongue, and the two of you rode out—past the gates, past the last flickers of town, and into the trees where no one could hear your silence.

The road was damp with the morning dew, the hooves of your horses squelching softly through the mud. The morning air was crisp, tinted green with the promise of summer, and somewhere above the trees, birds called to each other through the early light,

You rode in silence for a long while.

The kind that didn’t ask to be filled.

Jesse rode just ahead, letting the reins slack in his hands, the rise and falls of his horse’s gait steady and sure. Every so often he glanced back to make sure you were still there, still upright.

You were. Sort of.

“Do you think,” Jesse said eventually, “if someone brought back a popcorn machine, Maria would let us install it in the town hall?”

You blinked. “What?”

He looked over his shoulder, grinning. “Popcorn. For the movie nights. Think about it—actual butter. Actual crunch. None of this dried beet nonsense.”

You snorted, quiet. “You just want to hear it popping.”

“That and I want to be Jackson’s first popcorn baron.”

“Popcorn baron,” you echoed, deadpan.

“Every empire has to start somewhere.”

You shook your head, but a small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of your mouth.

“See?” he said. “I knew you had one in you.”

Don’t push it.”

The trees pressed in a little closer as you turned off the main road, shadows stretching long over the path. The horses moved slower now, navigating the uneven terrain. You adjusted your grip on the reins, watching Jesse as he pointed out the familiar markers—carved bark here, and old boot nailed to a tree post there.

“This trail used to spook the hell outta me,” he said. “First time Tommy took me through, I thought a clicker was gonna jump me from the moss.”

“You were like sixteen,” you murmured. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he said, glancing over. “You remember?”

You gave a slight shrug. “You were the only one who came back covered in mud.”

He laughed—really laughed—and the sound startled you, bright, sudden against the stillness. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed that sound.

The trail dipped. You followed behind him, the sun beginning to filter through the sharper slants. The ride stretched on—quiet, yes, but not lonely. There was something almost comforting in the stillness, in the way the wind moved through the trees and the world didn’t ask anything of you for a while.

Eventually, Jesse looked back this time slower.

“You’re doing okay,” he said. Not a question.

You nodded, even though your chest ached. “Trying.”

He gave you a small nod back. “That’s enough.”

You wanted to believe that. You really did. But something heavy still sat in your gut. Like the day was waiting for something. Like silence was only here to make room for the fall.

And deep down, you already knew. This wasn’t going to end quietly.

The path opened unexpectedly.

The trail led you into what used to be Teton Village—a scattering of old buildings nestled against the hills, most of them overrun with ivy and time. Sings hung broken in windows; COFFEE ROASTERS, SKI RENTAL, BOOKS FOR ALL AGES.

You followed Jesse toward the latter. The library.

You’d been through here before—mostly to check for any supplies that hadn’t been stripped clean—but neither of you had ever gone past the front desk. The door creaked when you pushed them open, and the smell of old paper and mildew greeted you like an old friend.

Shelves stretched tall across the room, half-collapsed, heavy with water-damaged paperbacks and discolored encyclopedias. Dust floated through the thin light trickling in from broken windows.

Jesse pointed toward the back wall. “I think this is it.”

You followed him down the rows of sagging shelves until he stopped near a corner with a display sign still barely hanging on: LOCAL AUTHORS AND POETS — SUMMER PICKS.

He pushed gently against the shelf beneath it—and with a dull groan of shifting wood, it moved.

Behind it, a narrow staircase leading down.

You both stared for a second.

Then Jesse grinned. ”Of course he hid his weed bunker behind a bookshelf. Nerd.”

You rolled your eyes, but something in your chest twitched. Curiosity, maybe. Nostalgia. Or just the faint hope of warmth at the end of a long, cold week.

You both descended slowly, flashlight beams cutting through the dark.

And there it was. Eugene’s grow op.

The lights were long dead, but the room smelled faintly of plant life and old smoke. Shelves lined with plants, baggies, tins, jars. Posters of half-naked women in crop tops with “420” written in sparkly green text. A stained beanbag in one corner. An ancient stereo with cracked speakers.

And that familiar little table with a gasmask attached to a dusty bong still perched right in the center. You stepped in and let out a breath.

Jesse gave a low whistle. “Dina told me about this. Thought she was exaggerating.”

You didn’t say it out loud, but you thought of Ellie.

Her voice echoing in this space. Her laugh. The way she probably sat on that ratty old couch with Dina and told stories they never told you.

You swallowed it down.

You wandered slowly, your fingers trailing across old porn tapes and burnt out incense. You found a tin tucked behind a pot—stlll full of dried bud. A little stale, sure, but definitely smokeable.

You held it up. “How desperate are you?”

Jesse raised a brow. “It’s either that or stare at this place and try not to cry. Hand it over.”

You laughed. Not loud. But real.

You rolled one with shaky fingers, half out of habit. Held it to your mouth while Jesse lit it with a match from his pocket. The first inhale was rough, catching in your throat. You passed the blunt to Jesse and he coughed so hard he wheezed.

“Oh yeah,” he rasped. “That’s the good apocalypse shit.”

You laughed a little harder this time, the sound echoing faintly off the concrete walls.

You took another puff and the smoke curled in the stale air, lazily, like it didn’t care about time.

You leaned your head against the edge of the grimy couch, the half-joint burning slowly between your fingers, the warmth of it not quite enough to reach your chest. Jesse sat close beside you on the couch, legs stretched out, arms draped over his knees.

It wasn’t silence between you. Not exactly. Just something thicker. Not tension. Not comfort. Just… heavy quiet.

He takes a puff and exhales slowly, passing you the blunt. “You’ve barely said anything since we left town.”

You didn’t answer right away. You watched the smoke drift toward the ceiling. Watched how it curled around the old dead grow lights like ghosts too tired to haunt anything.

“Not much to say,” you murmured.

Jesse looked over at you.

“I mean—” you started, then stopped. “What do you say when the two people you love most are in love with each other?”

It came out sharper than you expected. But Jesse didn’t flinch.

He took the blunt back as you let out another puff, stared at the smoke for a little while. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, I know.”

You glanced at him. “Do you?”

He didn’t smile. “Dina and I didn’t end ‘cause we stopped caring. We just… didn’t fit anymore. Not the way she needed.” A beat, “But that didn’t mean I stopped feeling it.”

Your heart gave a slow reluctant squeeze.

“I hate that it still hurts,” you whispered.

“Doesn’t make you weak.”

“It makes me pathetic.”

He finally looked back at you, the weight of it gently but direct. “No. It makes you honest.”

You looked away. The smoke in your lungs felt tighter now, like it didn’t want to leave. You took another hit. Let it sit. Let it sting.

Jesse’s hand brushed yours as he reached for the ashtray. Just a touch. Just enough for you to feel it. You didn’t pull away.

“You ever think it would’ve been easier if one of them just… left?” you asked, voice too soft.

He exhaled through his nose. “Yeah. All the time.”

You nodded. “I feel like I’m watching something I was never invited to. Like I’m outside the window, but I built the fucking house.”

Jesse let out a dry, quiet laugh.

You looked at him again. Your knees were almost touching now. You hadn’t realized how close you’d drifted.

“You’re allowed to be mad,” he said. “You’re allowed to miss what you thought you had.”

You didn’t answer. Instead you looked around at the basement—the empty chairs, the dusty lamps, the peeling posters on the far wall. This place felt like the inside of your chest: abandoned, once vibrant, full of the ghost of something that might’ve mattered.

You handed Jesse the half-joint again. “Do you think Ellie’s happier now?”

Jesse watched you. “I think she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Same as the rest of us.”

You blinked. Swallowed the lump in your throat. And then, barely above a whisper, “She was mine first.”

It slipped out. The truth. Raw and tired and bleeding. You didn’t mean to say it. But Jesse didn’t flinch.

“She knows that,” he said, almost too quietly.

You nodded, eyes burning. “I just wish she remembered it.”

You both sat there for a while longer. He didn’t try to touch you again. Didn’t pull you in or offer anything big. But when you leaned sideways—just barely—he let your shoulder rest against his. Let you breathe through it.

Just for a moment. Neither of you talked anymore. There was nothing else to say—not today, anyway.

Jesse stretched beside you, arms folded behind his head, gaze trained on the ceiling like he could read something in the water stains there.

Then— creak.

Your head snapped up. Jesse stilled.

Another noise followed—a dull thud, somewhere above. Muffled voices. Not clear enough to make out, but loud enough to send adrenaline slicing through your haze.

You sat up, spine straightening, that old familiar weight pressing in behind your ribs.

Jesse looked at you. Neither of you said a word. The moment tightened like a wire.

He stood first, moving with quiet purpose toward the table. You followed, already slipping your bag over your shoulder, heart kicking faster as your body shook off the warmth.

Jesse carefully stubbed out the still-smoldering joint in the ashtray, muttering under his breath. “Dumb,” he hissed. “Should’ve known better.”

You grabbed your rifle from the ground, slinging the strap over your shoulder.

The sounds overhead grew louder—movement now. Bootsteps across carpet. Something clatter—maybe a chair or a shelf knocked over.

You both moved toward the stairs, the flashlight still clipped to Jesse’s backpack casting a thin beam up ahead. He killed it with a flick, leaving you both in darkness, your eyes straining to adjust.

“Up slow,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “Don’t spook ‘em if they’re armed.”

You nodded once. Step by step, you climbed.

The metal stairs groaned faintly under your weight, and each sound sent another spike of tension through your lips. You could hear them clearer now—three voices, maybe four. Low. Male, from the sound of it. One of them laughed. Another swore.

“...told you they had shit here. Look at this bag.”

Your chest tightened. They were going through your stuff.

Jesse tapped your shoulder, then pointed upward—toward the crack of light where the hidden bookshelf had been pushed open just a few inches. A sliver of golden sun bled into the stairwell, dancing faintly across your boots.

Jesse leaned close again. “We wait for a gap. Then move.”

You nodded again. Your fingers curled tighter around the grip of your rifle. You felt it then—that weird feeling.

The one that told you this was no longer just a shitty patrol gone weird. This was something else. Something that might not let you come back the same.

The sun outside was blinding after the low, musty dark of the bunker.

You and Jesse slipped out through the bookshelf gap like shadows, quiet and smooth, barely a breath between your movements. You stuck to the edge of the hallway, the smell of dust and decay thick as you rounded the corner into the main room of the library.

There they were.

Four of them. Dirty jackets, old boots, gear patched together from who-knows-where. Two were at your saddlebags, rifling through the contents like they owned it. One had a machete strapped to his back. Another a rifle too large for his frame.

Jesse caught your eye. Counted to three with his fingers.

One. Two. You moved.

The first went down hard—a clean hit from Jesse’s boot to the back of the knee, his knife at the ready before the guy could even scream. You followed fast, catching the second one off-guard, slamming the butt of your rifle into his temple with a crunch of bone.

But it didn’t stay quiet. The other two spun around fast, shouting.

“Shit—fuck!”

“Don’t move!” Jesse barked, rifle raised now, breath ragged.

You did the same, blood rushing in your ears. For a moment, no one moved. Just the four of you—two standing, two bleeding out behind you.

One of them had a pistol. The other had a knife in hand, grip twitchy.

“Drop it,” you warned, voice shaking just enough for them to hear.

The guy with the pistol flinched—but didn’t lower it. His friend’s eyes were darting. Calculating.

Then someone made the wrong choice. A flash of movement. The knife guy lunged—not at you, but toward the door like he might bolt.

Distracted, you and Jesse raised your guns to shoot him. You pulled the trigger and at the same time so did two other people.

In that half-second of chaos, the one with the gun fired.

The sound split the air. You stumbled back.

Heat bloomed in your side. Your vision lurched.

You hit the ground before you even realized you’d fallen.

Jesse yelled something you didn’t hear.

Your ears rang, the ceiling spinning above you. You felt hands on your coat, pressure against your side, someone shouting your name.

“I got you,” Jesse said, his voice distant, his hands so much pressure. “Stay with me, c’mon—hey! Stay with me.”

Your breath rattled. You coughed—wet, sharp—and tasted copper.

It hurt. A lot. But you were still awake. Still alive.

You looked down. The bullet had caught you near the ribcage, right side. Low. Too low to be your lung, you thought. You hoped. It burned like hell. Blood poured from between Jesse’s fingers as he knelt beside you, his face pale, wild-eyed.

“You’re okay,” he kept saying. “You’re okay. Just hang on, alright?”

You nodded, Or tried to.

Jesse slinked an arm around you and it never left your waist.

You barely noticed when he hauled you into the saddle, just that the pressure made you scream through clenched teeth, and the world tipped sideways so fast you nearly lost consciousness.

He pressed you forward, one arm tight around your middle, the other gripping the reins like a lifeline. You sagged against him, breath catching on every jolt of the horse’s gait.

“Hold on,” he muttered under his breath. “C’mon, just—hold on for me.”

The trees passed in smears of green and gray. The air was sharp and cold against your face, but your skin was burning. You didn’t know how long you’d been riding before you realized Jesse had started talking more—to you, or maybe just the space around you. HIs voice was thin, ragged.

“You’re good. You’re good. I think it missed the lung. That’s just what I think, anyway. It didn’t look deep. You’re gonna be okay. We’ll be back soon. They’ll fix you up—”

Your head dropped forward onto his shoulder. Your hands had gone numb

“Hey—hey, don’t you do that.” His voice cracked. He adjusted his hold, trying to keep you upright. “Stay awake.”

“I’m here,” you mumbled, barely above a whisper.

He let out a breath, shaky and uneven. “Good. That’s good.”

The road dipped, then rose. The sound of hoovers on the gravel echoed too loud in your ears.

You were drifting. The pain in your side wasn’t sharp anymore. It was something duller now. Like your body had started to accept it. Or give up.

Jesse cursed under his breath.

“I wrote letters,” you murmured, voice muffled against his jacket.

He tensed behind you. “What?”

“They’re… in my house. On the coffee table. Just in case.” “No.”

You blinked slowly, eyes barely able to focus on the blur of trees.

“If I don’t make it—”

“You’re not saying goodbye,” He sounded angry now. Desperate. “Don’t you fucking say goodbye.”

“I just… want someone to know.”

He didn’t answer. Just tightened his grip and leaned in close, his jaw clenched so tight you could feel it through his coat.

You weren’t sure how long passed after that.

You heard your name a few times—snapped, choked out. Maybe just to keep you awake. Maybe to make sure he didn’t forget it.

You felt the town before you saw it. The shift in the wind. The way your horse slowed, like it recognized the path. Somewhere far off, you thought you heard a bell. The signal they used when patrols came back hurt.

Your vision swam.

Then arms were pulling you down. Voices. So many voices.

You screamed again—couldn’t help it—when the pressure shifted. Jesse was shouting. Someone else was shouting back.

You caught a glimpse of a red jacket—Dina? Then Ellie’s voice. Sharper than others. Calling your name like it meant something.

They didn’t wait for a gurney. None of that fancy hospital shit The clinic—a converted house on the edge of town, walls reinforced with old steel and scavenged siding—flared to life in an instant. The door flew open, and hands reached for you.

“She’s been shot—low right side,” Jesse barked, stumbling through the doorway with you slumped against his chest. “She’s losing blood, she’s—fuck, I couldn’t stop it.”

Two people moved toward him—one older woman in a stained coat, sleeves rolled, hands already gloved. Another younger guy, barely older than a teen, scrambling to ready supplies.

“Get her on the table!” the woman snapped.

“I’ve got her—just—just tell me where—”

“On the table!” she shouted, already clearing tools from a steel tray.

Jesse lowered you onto the cot, your body limp, head lolling. You let out a low, broken noise when they peeled your jacket away from the wound. Blood smeared everything—your shirt, your skin, Jesse’s hands.

Your eyes fluttered open for a second. “Jesse—?”

“I’m here,” he said, breathless. “I got you here. You’re good now, okay?”

The doctor pressed gauze hard into your side. You screamed.

“Vitals are dropping,” the younger medic said, reading off a salvaged machine. “Heart rate erratic.”

“We don’t have time,” the woman muttered. “She’s going into shock.”

Jesse leaned over the cot, but someone shoved him back by the shoulder.

“You need to leave.”

“No—I’m not—”

“Now!”

“I can help—”

“You’re in the way, son. If you want her to live, get out.”

For a second, Jesse didn’t move. Blood was smeared down the front of his coat, sticky and drying. His eyes locked on yours—your face pale, mouth parted, barely conscious.

And then you were gone—surrounded, swallowed up by the movement around you, by hands, by cloth, by frantic voices.

The door slammed shut behind him. And then it was just them.

Jesse, Ellie, and Dina sat in the quiet that followed—the kind of silence that made your ears ring. No one said anything for a long time. The porch creaked every time one of them shifted. Somewhere across town, a dog barked twice, then went quiet.

They’d cleaned what they could—Jesse wiped most of the blood off his hands with an old rag. Ellie sat stiff, her jaw clenched tight, arms locked across her chest. Dina leaned against the porch post, still pale, her eyes trained on the closed door like she could see through it.

An hour passed. Then—

“You should’ve done more.” Ellie’s voice was low, flat. But it hit hard.

Jesse blinked, slow, not looking at her. “What?”

“She got shot on your watch.”

His shoulders tensed. “You think I don’t know that?”

“You think I give a shit what you know?” Ellie stood. “You were supposed to protect her. That’s the whole fucking point of a partner. She was bleeding out—you let her get hit—”

“I didn’t let anything happen,” Jesse snapped, finally looking at her. “We were evenly matched. It happened fast.”

“You’re full of shit,” Ellie’s voice cracked. “She trusted you.”

Jesse stood now too. “Don’t act like I’m the only one who let her down.”

She flinched. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You think she didn’t see it?” Jesse said, voice sharp and rising. “You think she didn’t notice how fast you changed the second Dina came back? You think she didn’t feel that?” Ellie’s mouth opened. Nothing came out.

“She never said it,” Jesse continued. “But I could tell. It broke her. And she still—god, she still gave a shit about you.”

Ellie’s face twisted—shock, guilt, something worse.

“You weren’t there,” Jesse muttered. “On the way back. You didn’t see the way she looked when she thought she was dying. You didn’t hear her tell me about those damn letters she left behind.”

Dina finally stepped in, voice taut. “Enough.”

Jesse turned away. Ellie looked down. She straightened up to yell at Jesse again but the front door of the clinic creaked open.

The older woman stepped out, sweat slick on her brow, gloves red and peeled off into a bucket beside her.

“She’s stable,” she said before anyone could ask. “We got the bleeding under control. Bullet didn’t hit anything vital, but she’d weak. Gave her something for the pain.”

Everyone stood and turned to her.

“She’s resting now,” the doctor added. “But she’s asking for someone.”

Ellie moved first. Then Jesse. Then Dina.

The room was quiet when they stepped in. You were pale under the dim glow of the lamp, but your eyes were open. Barely. Half-lidded and slow to follow movement. Your breathing was shallow, but steady. For now, at least.

Jesse was the first to move, stepping to your side with soft footsteps, like he was afraid to break the quiet.

“You back with us?” he asked gently.

You blinked. Swallowed. Your lips were chapped and dry, but the ghost of a smile tugged weakly at the corner of your mouth. “Barely.”

Ellie let out a shaky breath near the foot of the bed. “You scared the hell out of us.”

“Good,” you rasped. “Needed attention.”

Dina smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. “You don’t have to almost die to get us to hang out with you.”

You looked between them—Jesse’s tired smile, Ellie’s clenched jaw, Dina’s too-careful posture—and something in your chest ached in a different way.

“I’m okay,” you murmured, though no one looked like they believed you.

There was a moment of silence. Just the soft beeps of the monitor and the hum of the makeshift heater.

Then Ellie spoke. “Jesse said you… left letters.”

Your breath hitched.

Jesse shifted beside you. “She told me on the way back. In case she didn’t—”

"I didn't think I’d make it,” you cut in, eyes flickering toward the ceiling. “Just wanted to leave something behind.”

Ellie’s brows furrowed. “What’d you write?”

You didn’t answer right away. “They’re just….” You swallowed. “Thoughts. Things I didn’t know how to say.”

Jesse looked down.

Dina stepped forward, slightly, her voice quiet. “You gonna give them to us?”

“Depends,” you said, mouth dry. “Do I make it?”

Nobody laughed.

Ellie’s eyes didn’t leave yours. “You will,” she said softly.

You looked away. Your side throbbed beneath the gauze, a deep ache that reached bone.

Another pause. This one heavier.

“I didn’t mean for it to go down like that,” Jesse murmured. “I should’ve had your back.”

“You did,” you said, surprising both him and yourself with the softness in your voice. “I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

Ellie’s arms were crossed now, her jaw tight. She didn’t speak again, but the muscles in her neck flexed like she wanted to.

Dina hovered close, not quite touching her, but her presence still wrapped around Ellie like gravity.

You saw it. You always saw it. But you didn’t say anything. You were too tired.

You opened your mouth to speak, you wanted to, but your chest—something shifted.

The air in your lungs caught. Like it snagged on something sharp.

You coughed. Just once. But it was wrong. Too deep. Too wet.

Jesse sat up. “Hey.”

But your chest was caving inward. Not metaphorically—literally.

Another cough—harder now. Your whole body tensed with it. Your fingers curled into the sheets.

Ellie moved. “What’s—? What’s happening?”

You tried to breathe, but the air wouldn’t come in.

It was like trying to inhale through water. Your eyes went wide.

“Something's—” you choked. “I—can’t—”

“Get the doctor,” Jesse yelled, already moving toward the door.

You reached for him. For anyone. Your hand spasmed in the air.

“No—no—don’t—” you gasped.

Dina’s face drained of color. “Oh my god.”

Ellie was already grabbing your hand. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe—come on—”

“I can’t,” you cried, voice thin and breaking. “Ellie—”

Then your body convulsed. A harsh sound tore from your throat—part sob, part scream—and your back arched violently off the cot.

The monitor beside you flatlined.

A long shrill beep.

Jesse was yelling for help now. The door slammed open. But it didn’t matter.

Ellie’s hands were on your face.

Dina was frozen, lips parted in horror.

And Jesse—he was still screaming your name.

You were gone.

The infirmary had gone still—still in the way things only got when death took up space. No screaming. Just the stutter of a breath, the silence after, and the quiet shuffling of footsteps backing away from the bed like getting too close might mean catching the grief too.

Ellie’s hand was still on yours when your body gave out.

She didn’t feel it right away. Didn’t believe it. Not when your face had looked so soft, even in pain. Not when you’d been talking only minutes ago—soft and slow and full of things you never said until you were sure you were leaving.

Jesse stood across from her, white around the mouth. Pale. His knuckles were bloodless where they gripped the edge of the table.

You had just looked at him. You’d just smiled at him. You told them about the letters. You told them not to forget. You said it so softly it felt like a lullaby.

Now you weren’t saying anything.

The doctor rushed in then. Heard the change in rhythm. Tried to stabilize your heart, even though she must’ve known—it was too sudden, too final. And when she finally stepped back from the bed, sweat slicking her brow, she looked between Ellie and Jesse and gave the only explanation she had:

“Air embolism,” he said quietly. “It’s rare… happens sometimes after trauma. A pocket of air slips into the bloodstream. Once it reaches the heart—”

She didn’t finish. Didn’t need to.

It was quiet again. Too quiet.

The doctor had left. Dina too, finally—after kissing your forehead with shaking hands and walking out without looking back.

That left Jesse and Ellie.

Neither of them could bear the sight of your cold body laying on the bed. They stepped out into the hallway, narrow with barely enough room for two. The walls felt closer than they had before.

Neither of them spoke at first.

Ellie was still pale. Her fingers twitched restlessly in your, curling and uncurling like maybe it’d somehow bring you back.

Jesse leaned against the wall across from her. His jaw was tight. His shirt was still damp with sweat—some of it his, some of it yours.

Ellie’s voice broke the silence.

“You were supposed to protect her.”

It came out quiet. Not shouted. Not even angry. Just hollow.

But Jesse’s head snapped up anyway. “I did.”

“You didn’t.”

“You think I didn’t try?” “She died,” Ellie snapped, louder now. “She died, Jesse. And you were right there.”

“I brought her back,” he shot back. “I stayed by her side the whole time just like you—don’t you dare—”

“She wouldn’t have needed to been brought back if you’d done your fucking job.”

Jesse flinched like she’d hit him. The words hung in the air, rotten and sharp and poisonous.

Ellie’s breathing was uneven. Her hands balled into fists. “She wouldn’t have gotten shot if you had—if you had paid attention.”

“I was paying attention.”

“Not enough.”

“You want someone to blame, Ellie? Fine.” He shoved off the wall, eyes blazing now. “Blame me. Go ahead. I’ll take it.”

“I already am.”

That landed hard. The hallway suddenly felt too small. Too hot. Like the grief was pressing in from all sides, squeezing out the air.

Jesse’s voice dropped. “You think this is easy for me?”

Ellie looked away.

“I was there,” he said quieter. “I heard her breathing slow down. I felt her body get cold. I’m not gonna forget that. Ever.”

Ellie blinked fast. Like maybe she was trying not to cry.

“She told me about the letters,” Jesse added, voice barely audible. “This wasn’t about me. Or you. It was always going to happen.” “Then why did we even try?” Ellie snapped, voice cracking. “Why the fuck did we sit there and hold her hand and tell her she gonna be okay?” Jesse didn’t answer. There wasn’t one.

She turned her back to him, fists still clenched at her sides. Her shoulders shook—just slightly. The only sign that anything was breaking through.

“I told her she was gonna make it.” Jesse closed his eyes.

“And she believed me,” Ellie whispered.

Neither of them moved.

The silence was different now. Not still. Just hollowed out.

Grief settling into the walls like dust.

Jesse leaned back against the doorframe again. Wiped his face with the back of his hand.

Ellie didn’t look at him again.

They didn’t speak after that. They just stood there. Surrounded by everything that couldn’t be taken back.

—

The walk back to town was short. It felt endless.

Late spring in Jackson meant fresh evenings, colder shadows. The sun was starting to dip low behind the trees, casting long golden beams across the path. The dust on the road kicked up around their boots, catching in the light.

No one spoke.

Jesse walked a few paces ahead. Ellie trailed behind, her hands in her jacket pockets, jaw tight. Dina wasn’t with them. She’d left the clinic earlier, alone. No one had asked where she went.

The trees swayed gently in the breeze. Birds chirped somewhere far off, too bright for the moment. The world didn’t care what it had just taken.

When they reached the outer gates, Maria was already there.

She didn’t say much. Just nodded at Jesse. Gave Ellie a tight-lipped glance. Her eyes softened, just for a moment, when she realized what the silence meant.

“She’s gone,” Jesse said, voice low.

Maria didn’t flinch. Just nodded again. “I’ll… let the others know.”

No one asked who “the others” were.

They walked away from the gates like ghosts. People stared, but no one came forward. A few folks paused mid-conversation, watching them pass. A man with a shovel leaned on the handle. A girl froze with a half-cut apple in her hand.

They didn’t need to be told. They could see it. In Jesse’s face. In Ellie’s. In the silence.

By the time they reached the middle of town, the sun was almost gone. Lights flicked on inside the homes lining the street. Dinner smells wafted through the air—roasted squash, bread, garlic. Someone laughed from a porch. A dog barked in the distance.

Life kept moving. It felt wrong.

Jesse kept walking until he reached the corner where the path split. One way led to his place. The other—

To yours. He paused there.

Stared at your house in the near distance. The porch light still on. One of the curtains in the upstairs window had come loose. It fluttered in the breeze.

His hand twitched. But he didn’t go. Didn’t even take a step.

He turned. And walked away.

He came back the next morning. Not early. Not late. Just when the sky had settled into that bright blue haze Jackson got when spring started to lean toward summer.

The streets were mostly empty.

Your house stood exactly the same. Curtains still half-tangled in the open window. Porch light still on, even though the sun was up. The front step creaked when Jesse climbed it—like it always did. You used to say you liked the sound. Said it made the place feel lived in.

Now it felt like the house was holding its breath.

Jesse stopped at the door. He had a key. He’d kept the key in his pocket when you gave it to him weeks ago.

The night you cried over the dress. The night you couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. When all you could do was sit curled up in the corner of your couch with the lights off and this soft aching look in your eyes.

He didn’t leave. Not then.

Now he stood outside your house again, key in hand, chest tight.

The screen door creaked open, then drifted shut behind him with a familiar click.

He didn’t need to knock. But he didn’t go inside right away either.

The front door stood there like it was daring him to open it. He stared at it for a long time.

He could still picture the inside without even looking. The couch. The blanket you always kept folded over the armrest, the one he used when he stayed over. The old lamp with the crooked shade. Your only other pair of boots by the door. Your bag would be upstairs. Your journal—still sitting on the coffee table with the two notes you’d written before you’d left.

He couldn’t do it. Not yet.

His hand tightened around the key.

You’d told him about the letters on the ride back when you bled onto his jacket. You’d whispered so weakly, “Just in case.”

He nodded, swallowed the fear and said, “You’re gonna be okay.”

You weren’t. And now he was standing here, not even brave enough to collect the things you left behind.

The key scraped gently in his grip as he turned it over between his fingers.

He stepped back off the porch. Sat down on the top step. The wood was still warm from the sun, but the house behind him felt cold.

He’d stayed here. Slept here. Made you tea when you didn’t even see the sun rise. You laughed at him for over-steeping it.

Now the windows were shut. The rooms were quiet. And you weren’t in them.

Jesse dropped his head into his hands and sat there for a long time. No crying. Just sitting. Letting the guilt pile up in his chest until it pressed against his ribs like something solid.

He didn’t go in. He couldn’t. Not yet.

ELLIE

She didn’t go home that night.

She stood on the porch for over an hour, hand on the door, head tilted like she was listening for something. A sound. A sign. Anything.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

The kind that makes your skin itch.

She turned away. Ended up sleeping in the loft above the stables, jacket balled beneath her head, legs drawn up like she could fold herself into something smaller. Something less breakable.

The next day, she didn’t speak.

She cleaned her boots twice. Re-packed her bag, then unpacked it again. Sat on the porch steps of her house with a pencil in hand and a blank page open in her sketchbook—and didn’t draw a thing.

It had been days since she’d touched it.

Drawing used to help. You’d sit across from her, legs tucked under you, chin on your hand, watching her work with that soft, intent look. Sometimes you'd talk, other times you wouldn’t. Sometimes she'd sketch you without telling you, then wait for you to notice.

You always did.

Now she couldn’t draw anything. Her hands shook too much.

She tried once—started the curve of a jaw that might've been yours. Her pencil snapped halfway through.

She didn’t try again.

The sketchbook stayed face-down on the table after that. The pencil rolled off and disappeared under the bed. She didn’t go looking for it.

She still had your knife. The one you took on patrol. The one you were never supposed to need. It was tucked into the back of her drawer now, out of sight. But she checked to make sure it was still there every night. She never told anyone why.

She saw Jesse once—passing through the garden, shoulders hunched, face unreadable.

She didn’t speak to him. Didn’t trust what she’d say if she did.

She couldn’t look at Dina either. Not because she hated her. But because the space between them was too wide now. And it looked too much like you.

DINA

Dina didn’t cry at first.

She moved on instinct. Brushed her teeth. Fed the chickens. Took care of small things because it was easier than thinking about the big ones.

She tried to go to the market once—got halfway to the stalls before she saw someone wearing your jacket.

Not your actual jacket. Just one that looked like it.

She turned around and went home.

Your hoodie was still on her bedroom chair. She pulled it into her arms that night and slept with it balled against her chest. It didn’t smell like you anymore—not really—but she pretended.

She told herself she was fine. She wasn’t.

Every mirror felt like a betrayal. Every time she saw herself, she expected you to be standing beside her. You always had been. The winter dance. Late-night walks. Morning coffee. You were always there.

Now, when she looked, it was just her. And the absence. She thought about Ellie more than she wanted to.

Not like that. Just… wondering. Was she eating? Sleeping? Drawing?

She knew the answer. Probably not. They hadn’t spoken since the clinic.

Dina wanted to reach out. She did. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that if she called Ellie’s name, your ghost would answer.

One night, she stood in the kitchen and whispered your name, just to say it. Just to hear it out loud.

It broke her.

She collapsed against the sink and sobbed until her chest burned. She didn’t even realize she’d fallen to the floor until she felt the cold tile under her palms.

The next day, she didn’t speak to anyone. She cleaned the same mug twice. Watered a dead plant. Folded clothes she hadn’t worn in weeks.

Saw Ellie across the courtyard that afternoon. Their eyes met. It lasted a second. Maybe less. Ellie looked away. Dina didn’t try again. Because she didn’t know what she’d say. And she was afraid of what Ellie might.

—

It rained the night before.

Not enough to flood the trails, but enough to make the earth soft. Easy to dig.

Joel carved the casket himself. He didn’t speak about it. Just started one morning with a stack of weathered cedar and a knife he kept too sharp. By the second day, it looked like a coffin. By the third, it looked like yours.

The funeral was small. A dozen people, maybe less. Close friends. People who knew you in the day-to-day ways—the woman from the market who once saved you a jar of honey, the man who helped fix your roof last spring. Everyone else kept their distance.

They knew better than to crowd grief.

The casket sat under an old tree in the far corner of Jackson’s cemetery. A place you’d probably seen a hundred times on patrol and never really noticed.

It wasn’t special. But it was quiet. A wooden cross stood at the head of the grave. Joel carved your name into it with his pocket knife that morning. The lines weren’t clean. His hand shook a little. He didn’t try to hide it.

Jesse stood closest to the casket. Pale, arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Because he hadn’t.

Maria said a few words. Soft. Kind. Practical.

“Hard to lose someone good,” she said. “Harder when you know they didn’t deserve it.”

No one disagreed. No one could.

Dina didn’t speak. She stood beside Jesse, hands clenched in the sleeves of your hoodie—the one she hadn’t taken off since the night you died.

Ellie stood apart from the rest. Not far. Just enough to feel it.

Her hands stayed in her pockets. Her jaw never unclenched. She didn’t cry during the service Not then.

It wasn’t until after—when the dirt had been shoveled in, when the crowd started drifting away—that she broke.

It happened slow. Quiet. Her knees buckled beside the fresh mound of earth. Her shoulders hunched. Her forehead pressed to the rim of the wooden cross. Her breath hitched once, then again, until the sobs came low and tight, like they were trying not to be heard.

Jesse looked back, but didn’t approach. Dina didn’t move either.

And then—a monarch butterfly drifted down from the tree. It fluttered once. Twice. Then landed softly on the cross above your name.

Ellie didn’t see it at first. When she did, she froze. Her hand twitched—like she wanted to reach out.

She didn’t.

The butterfly didn’t stay long. It fluttered its wings once. And flew. But it stayed with her long after it was gone.

A FEW MONTHS LATER

Nobody had counted, but it had been months.

Late summer now. Dust in the air. Light stretched long over the hills. Jackson breathed easier now—repaired fences, working crops, kids back to chasing each other through the fields like the world hadn’t just lost you.

But your house still stood untouched.

No one went near it, except to leave a few bouquets of now wilted flowers on your front porch. The curtains stayed drawn. The porch creaked in the wind, and the flowers you planted had long since withered into dry brown curls.

Maria let it be—for a while.

Then one morning, she cornered Jesse outside the mess hall.

“You’re going today,” she said, no room in her voice for argument.

Jesse blinked. “What?”

“The house,” she clarified. “We need it cleared. Inventory. Supplies. Storage if nothing else.”

“I can do it alone.”

“You’re not supposed to.” She crossed her arms. “You three were the closest. It’s only right.”

He looked away. Jaw tight. “They won’t come.”

“Then make them.”

She didn’t wait for an answer.

Joel talked to Ellie that same morning.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, the way he did when he was trying not to sound like her father or someone who knew better.

“You’re going,” he said.

Ellie didn’t respond.

“Tommy’s already talkin’ to Dina.”

Still nothing.

“You don’t have to dig through her things,” he added. “Just be there. Help Jesse. He shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

Ellie’s hands stayed in her pockets.

Joel pushed off the wall. “Look, I know this ain’t easy—”

“Then stop pretending like it is,” she snapped.

That stopped him. Just for a second.

Then, quieter, “She deserves this. At least this.”

Ellie looked past him, out the window toward the street.

She didn’t say yes. But she didn’t say no either.

Tommy found Dina in the stables.

He didn’t use a stern voice—not at first. Just leaned beside her on the stall gate, watching her toss hay with a kind of distracted rhythm,

“She’d want you there.”

Dina paused.

He continued. “Maria’s sending Jesse over. You and Ellie are going too.”

“I know,” Dina said.

“You don’t have to stay long.”

She nodded, slow. “Okay.”

Tommy touched her shoulder once. That was all.

They met at your house a little after lunch.

The sun was already climbing high. The air had that dry, weightless heat Jackson hot when summer was starting to drift toward its end.

The three of them stood outside your porch, none of them quite looking at the door. Jesse had the key. Still the one you gave him.

Dina stood with her arms crossed, your hoodie knotted around her waist.

Ellie didn’t speak. Didn’t fidget. Just stared at the porch steps like she was trying to memorize them.

No one moved until Maria passed by in the distance—just walking, not watching, but her presence alone was enough.

Jesse stood up first. He unlocked the door.

The house creaked open like it had been holding its breath for months.

The air inside was still cool. Tucked in shadow. It smelled like old fabric, sun-warmed wood. Boots by the door. A sweater tossed over the couch.

The kitchen still smelled faintly like fresh linen and soil and whatever tea you’d kept buried in the back of your cabinets. Something earthy. Calming. Yours.

A broken pencil rested on the table beside a half-finished grocery list.

Eggs, soap, turmeric—

The rest of the paper was blank.

No one moved for a long time.

The front room was still. Sunlight filtered in through the curtains, catching dust in the air.

You’d always hated closed windows—said fresh air made a house feel honest. Now, it just felt empty.

Jesse stepped in first. His fingers brushed the edge of the coffee table, and there they were: The letters. Two envelopes. Names written on the front. He didn’t touch them yet.

Dina wandered into the kitchen. She opened a cabinet and blinked at the mug collection—mismatched, chipped, half of them probably stolen from the community center. Her favorite one—the one with the faded wolf paw—you’d always saved for her.

It was still there. She closed the cabinet. Said nothing.

Ellie hovered near the bookshelf by the stairs. Her fingers ghosted over the spines of books you never finished. A few dog-eared. One opened to a pressed flower you never told anyone about.

Then, slowly, she drifted toward the stairs. The floor creaked beneath her boots. Each step felt heavier than the last.

Your room door was half-shut, like it had been left that way on purpose. Like you meant to come back. Like maybe you were just running late.

The thought nearly broke her.

She pushed it open. The air was different up here. Stiller.

Your bed was unmade. Blankets half-draped like you couldn’t sleep that night. Or any night before. One pillow dented, the other untouched.

Another sweater thrown over the back of your desk chair. A broken mug holding pens. A crooked stack of notebooks. A book of poetry, spin broken from overuse.

And—

Her drawing.

Tucked behind a mirror. Not hidden, but placed like something fragile. Cared for.

She pulled it out.

Her own sketch—you, half-asleep in bed, hair mussed, shoulders wrapped in a blanket. It wasn’t even her best work.

But you kept it. Framed it.

The paper edges were warped—thumbed too many times.

She turned it over. Her handwriting, from so long ago, stared back at her: 'you looked so peaceful. i didn’t want to ruin it.'

Her chest ached.

She set the drawing down, gently, and looked toward your closest. She opened it. And there it was.

The dress.

Still hanging. Still waiting.

The one you made for the festival. For her. For the night she kissed someone else.

Ellie stepped closer, fingers brushing over the fabric.

It wasn’t perfect. The seams were crooked. The hem uneven. There were the faintest stains in places you’d tried to scrub out.

But it was beautiful, and so obviously you.

She remembered how you’d worn it that night. The way you smiled. Danced. Spun like the music was just for you. Like it came from somewhere inside your ribs.

She remembered not saying anything. Not asking Jesse to lend you to her. Not asking you to stay.

She remembered how you looked when you saw her kiss Dina.

How your smile didn’t fall all at once—but slowly. Like something unraveling thread by thread.

The dress. The drawing. All of it.

Ellie looked away from the closet.

Her throat tight. Her fingers trembling slightly as they traced along the edge of the dress in her hands.

Everyone was quiet.

Jesse found her in the kitchen.

Dina stood with her hands on the edge of the sink, staring down at a mug she hadn’t touched. The air inside the house was warmer than the outside—sunlight soaked through the windows and made the floorboards glow.

She didn’t hear him at first. Or maybe she did and just didn’t want to look.

He stepped forward anyway.

“I found these,” he said quietly.

She turned.

He was holding two envelopes and a worn cloth journal. Your name was on the front of the book. Hers and Ellie’s on the envelopes.

He offered one to her.

Her name. Just: to dina.

She stared at it for a second. Then reached out and took it with both hands—too gently, like it might tear if she gripped it wrong.

“She kept them on the coffee table,” Jesse added. “Been there since she… passed.”

Dina didn’t say anything. Just nodded once.

Jesse looked like he might say more. But didn’t.

He gave Ellie one last glance through the open hallway—still upstairs—then turned and walked out the front door, letting the screen creak shut behind him.

Dina stood in the sunlight for a moment longer, the letter shaking slightly in her grip.

She sat down on the floor. Right there in the middle of the kitchen, legs folded, head bowed over the envelope.

And then—she opened it.

i know you didn't mean to hurt me. i know you didn’t mean for any of this to happen the way it did. but it still happened. and i still hurt. there was never a day i hated you. not even once. even when i wanted to. i hope she makes you happy. i really do. just — please don't forget about me completely. someone should remember me for who i was before this broke me. before you both did. — your loving sister.

Her eyes didn’t even make it halfway through before they blurred.

She read it again anyway. Twice. Three times.

Until the words started to feel like something physical—something jagged being pushed deeper into her chest.

your loving sister.

Her breath left her in a sharp hitch.

She folded forward, pressing the letter to her ribs, and shut her eyes tight. A tear slid down her cheek. Then another. Then more, faster than she could stop.

The house around her was quiet.

Ellie hadn’t come down yet.

And Dina was glad. Because she didn’t want to be seen like this. Not when your forgiveness was the thing that hurt the most.

Dina ended up going out back, letter in hand, the door left open behind her like maybe she hadn’t realized she wouldn’t come back in.

Jesse found Ellie still in your room—exactly where he expected she’d be.

She sat on the edge of your bed, back hunched slightly, the dress folded in her lap like something she didn’t know how to hold.

The drawing lay beside her, untouched but not unnoticed.

She didn’t look up when he entered. Didn’t ask what he wanted. She already knew.

Jesse stood in the doorway for a second, the envelope and the journal heavy in his hands.

“These were downstairs,” he said quietly.

Ellie didn’t speak.

He stepped in. Held them out.

Your name sprawled over the journal’s cover. Her name on the letter.

to ellie

No flourish. No closer. Just the truth, pressed in ink.

“She wanted you to have them,” Jesse said.

His voice cracked a little at the end, but he didn’t try to cover it.

“She wrote about you. A lot.”

Ellie reached for them with both hands. Her fingers brushed the envelope first—slowly, like it might burn. Then the journal.

She didn’t look at him. Not right away.

Jesse lingered in the doorway like he might say more. Like he had more words that could fit the size of what he felt.

But he didn’t. He just nodded once. Barely. Then turned and left.

The door clicked shut behind Jesse, and Ellie was alone again.

Your room was quiet. Not silent. There was a faint creak of the wood beneath the bed. The soft hum of win outside the window. The gentle flap of the curtain against the sill.

But inside—her chest, her breath, her throat—it was all quiet.

She stared down at the envelope.

to ellie

Your handwriting.

She’d seen it before. On notes when you doodled in her sketchbook. On the corner of grocery lists. Etched into the spine of a sketchbook you once gifted her, awkwardly, like it didn’t mean much.

It always meant too much.

Her fingers hovered over the flap.

She opened it slowly. Carefully. Like it might tear it she breathed too hard. Then she unfolded the letter.

i don’t know if you knew what you were thinking when you asked her. i don’t know if you knew i’d see. maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. maybe i stopped mattering a long time ago. you were the first person who made me feel like i could be more. like i was allowed to want something. like love wasn’t some distant idea meant for other people. and i never told you, but god, ellie— i loved you in ways that weren’t quiet. i just kept them quiet anyway. i wanted to be the person you looked for in a crowd. instead, i was the one who stood still while you reached for someone else. i’m not giving this to you. not unless something happens. not unless i can’t say any of this out loud. but if you’re reading this— please don’t be sorry. just remember i was real. — the one who made you that stupid dress.

Ellie read it twice. The first time too fast. The second time too slow.

By the end, her hands were trembling. But she didn’t cry. Not yet.

She set the letter down on your pillow like it belonged there. Like it needed to rest.

Then her gaze fell to the journal. The one Jesse said was full of her. Of memories she didn’t even know she was part of. She ran her fingers over the worn edges before flipping it open.

The first page: a list.

fix the cabinet door pick up ration tickets get chores from maria try not to look at her like that

Her throat caught.

She turned the page. More lists. More notes. Scraps of pressed flowers. Pages of thoughts scribbled like you were writing just to get them out of your body.

She flipped to the middle.

And found it.

sometimes i think if i’d kissed you that night, nothing would’ve changed. but then again, maybe it all would’ve. maybe that’s why i didn’t.

She let the page fall shut with a shaky breath.

Then flipped through more till she turned to the back.

It was stuck there—almost hidden. A single folded sheet. Stiff with old tears. Stained like the paper had soaked everything you couldn’t say.

She unfolded it.

i never wanted to be the kind of person You forget to look for but here i am still dressed in things i hoped You’d compliment You kissed her like You’d already done it in a dream— like You missed it i watched You the way people watch lightning before they remember it can hurt and still, i smiled and still, i danced and still, i stayed You didn’t ask me to but You let me and that might be worse grief tastes like sugar left too long in the rain— sweet, but useless my name doesn’t sound the same when i say it out loud You hollowed it out when You stopped using it god, i wanted to tell You god, i wanted to scream but what would i have said? don’t fall in love without me? You didn’t mean to break me You just didn’t care if you did

The tears came then. Not all at once.

They started slow—one trailing down the line of her cheek, then another, catching on her jaw.

She didn’t sob. She didn’t fall to her knees. She didn’t punch a wall or throw the book or scream. She just curled into herself.

The journal in her lap. The dress clutched to her chest. The letter still folded beside her, full of all the things she would never get to say back.

She let herself cry the way you might’ve wanted her to.

The house was quiet still. Full of grief, but quieter now. Softer.

Ellie sat on the floor now, journal in her lap, fingers brushing the edge of a page she hadn’t turned yet. Her eyes were swollen. Her nose red. But she hadn’t cried again—not since the last entry.

She needed a second. Just one breath that didn’t hurt.

And that’s when she heard it. A soft thump. Then the faintest meow.

She looked up at the soft sound—small paws tapping lightly on the wood floor, just past the edge of the doorway.

It was a cat. Young, maybe a few months old. Grey fur, white belly, little pink pads on its paws that barely made a sound as it stepped into the room.

Ellie blinked at it. It blinked back, head tilted slightly like it was studying her.

It didn’t bolt. Didn’t flinch. Just crept a little closer with each passing second, ears twitching but eyes steady.

She sat still, breathing shallow.

The cat finally reached her side, tail brushing her legs, and sat like it had been there a hundred times before.

“Guess you’ve been here a while, huh?” Ellie said, voice hoarse.

It didn’t make a sound. Just looked up at her like it was understood.

She reached down, slowly, fingers brushing the soft fur along its back,

She sat like that for a moment longer, hand resting lightly on the small body now pressed against her shin, before finally standing—slowly, limbs heavy.

The cat followed without hesitation.

Ellie climbed onto your bed—careful not to mess with its original state—and pulled the journal close. Its edges were worn. The pages still smelled faintly like you.

The cat jumped up beside her, pawing softly at the blanket before curling into a tight ball at her side. Ellie rested her hand on its back again, grounding herself in the rhythm of its breathing.

And then she opened the journal to the next page.

The room was quiet, but it didn’t feel empty. Just a little less lonely.

Page 87 jesse says if he ever loses his left boot, he’s not looking for it. “I’ve lived a good life,” he said. “I’ll just walk with honor and shame.” i told him shame doesn’t cancel out honor. Page 89 the ceiling in the kitchen still drips when it rains. i put a put a pot under it. it makes weird music if you sit still and listen long enough. i think i like it. Page 90 ellie told me she used to draw when she couldn’t sleep. i wanted to say: draw me. but i didn’t. too risky. i think she would’ve though. Page 91 i heard someone call me pretty today. might’ve been by accident. might’ve been the wind. gonna pretend it was real Page 93 i miss the ocean. not that i’ve ever seen it. but i think about it a lot. what it would feel like. to be so small and okay with it Page 95 if i plant flowers now, will they still bloom if i’m not here to see them? (ellie would water them, she wouldn’t admit it, but she would.) Page 96 i hate when jesse’s right. he said i looked like i was falling in love. i told him to shut up. he grinned like he’d won a bet. (he did) Page 97 dina asked if i was okay. i said “yeah." we both knew i was lying. but she let me keep it. that’s love, too, i think Page 98 sometimes i think ellie’s eyes were carved from the same color as dusk. the part right before the sun disappears. the part no one talks about Page 99 - written messier, ink smudged if i disappear, i hope someone laughs at my notes. don’t let grief make me boring Page 100 there’s a little grey cat that keeps showing up in the living room. i don't feed her. but she comes anyway. i think she likes the quiet here. maybe she misses you, too. maybe she just wants my stale cereal.

Ellie closed the journal.

Her fingers stayed on the cover for a while. Not squeezing. Just… holding. Like she was scared the warmth might fade if she let go.

The cat stirred beside her. Curled tighter against her wrist, small and sure. Like it belonged there.

Outside, the sun had started to dip. Shadows crept along the walls of your bedroom—stretching toward the door, toward the desk, toward the space beside her that used to belong to you.

She didn’t move. Didn’t need to.

The air smelled faintly like cedar, old paper, and the faintest trace of something floral—something you probably didn’t mean to leave behind.

She could still hear you in the pages. Still feel you in the seams of the dress folded at the foot of your bed.

The journal was quiet now. But not empty.

Ellie reached down, scratching behind the cat’s ears. “You really just stuck around, huh?” She murmured.

The cat didn’t move. Purred like a brand new car. Blinks up at her with those wide, watching eyes—like it had always known how the story would end.

And then, quietly, almost to herself.

“...I think she would’ve stayed, too.”

A beat. Softer.

“I just didn’t give her a reason.”

No dramatic thunder. No cracking sky.

Just a girl. A journal. A cat that had no name.

And a silence so full of love and regret, it could’ve swallowed the world whole.

#ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #tlou ellie #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x you #tlou 2 #tlou2 #the last of us

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rowdydevs · 17 days ago

Note

what was bardown!rafe’s reaction to hearing pornstar??

Thank you so much for your ask! 💕This can absolutely be read as a standalone—no need to read Bar Down first. All you need to know is that Rafe and the reader got together quickly, but they agreed to slow things down after a misunderstanding. Much to Rafe’s frustration, they’re “just friends” for now… but it’s anything but simple with these two. Rafe is a defenseman on the LA Kings, and this story takes place in Los Angeles. Kelce is the goalie, dating the reader’s best friend, Stassie. If you have read Bar Down, this occurs right before Valentine’s Day and the Four Nations Tournament.

*intentional text message spelling mistakes*

+18 -> smut

𝓱𝓸𝓬𝓴𝓮𝔂!𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝔁 𝓹𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

c/w: pining, teasing, swearing, ownership (you're mine, etc.), pet names, smau at the end, mutual masturbation <- neither one is aware, but there are graphic depictions of Rafe and the reader in fantasy, dirty talk, sex toys, wet and messy, Rafe and the reader are down bad, pathetic!rafe

Rafe’s phone lights up with your name. Mid-stretch on the couch, he answers like he’s been waiting all day.

“Hey, you,” your voice hums through the speaker, warm and teasing. “You free?”

He smiles, already sitting up. “It’s an off night.”

“So?”

Rafe leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees like you could somehow see him through the phone. “Off nights are for you.”

You laugh—bright and helpless—trying to play it cool but giving yourself away instantly. “God, you’re a sweetheart,” you murmur, smiling so wide it almost hurts.

“A sweetheart, huh? You know Kelce thinks I’m pathetic, right?”

“Kelce?”

“Yeah. Says I’m whipped.”

“Mhmm… And he’s not with Stassie?” you tease.

“Nah, we both are, sweetheart,” Rafe shrugs with a grin. “Lost causes when it comes to you two—like you didn’t already know.”

“I wasn’t aware…”

“No shit?” He laughs and sighs softly. “Guess I’ll need to come on stronger—”

You giggle and sigh too—a little laugh that lets him know you’d love that more than anything. “Well, I actually called because I need your help with something—”

“My help?” He asks, and you can hear the smile in his deep voice.

“Mhmm…”

“Anything for you.”

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

You’re standing in front of his door. All dolled up: lips glossy, hair curled, heels high, holding a garment bag and a heavy-looking canvas tote.

Rafe opens it and takes one look at you, any semblance of a “cool guy” act folding with a single glance. “Damn. Please tell me you’re moving in—”

You laugh and roll your pretty eyes. “Ha, ha.”

“M’serious,” he says as you stroll past him, tossing the garment bag onto the couch. “I’m here on business?”

“Business?” He repeats, one brow lifting in that teasing way he knows drives you crazy.

You spin around, eyes dancing as you dig into your tote, pulling out a smaller bag—and from it, a chunky, silver-trimmed camcorder straight out of the early 2000s.

Rafe blinks a few times, staring back at you. “Okay…”

“You’re helping me shoot a music video,” you say sweetly.

Rafe stares even harder, brows rumpling with confusion. “You’re jokin’… Me?”

“Of course you.” A grin tugs slow and wide across his mouth as he reaches for the camera. “It’s supposed to look like it’s shot at home, very chill, relaxed—”

“Holy shit,” he mutters, voice already dropping into that soft, playful tone he only ever uses with you. “Yeah. Yeah, alright.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you coo as you reach into the garment bag pulling out a black satin dress you know he’ll love.

“My pleasure…” The words leave his lips slower than intended, almost comically slow as his entire night takes a turn for the better. His dream girl in his apartment, dressed like a fantasy. Yeah, it’s not getting any better than this.

You hold up the dress by the hanger, fingers delicate as they slide down the material before throwing Rafe a wink and disappearing down his hallway. His eyes track the swing of your hips until you vanish behind the bathroom door. The door stays cracked open—just barely, but enough—enough to send him into a tailspin.

Rafe stares at the space between the hinges like it’s a portal; a portal filled with mistakes he can’t afford to make if he wants you back. One where he’d slam the door and take you right there on the bathroom counter, dismissing any ‘just friends’ rule he has the displeasure of following.

His heart hammers in his chest; palms sweaty as he grips the camcorder like a lifeline. Rafe drags a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. “… Think pure thoughts,” he mutters. “Be normal. Be cool. Be a friend.”

He fiddles with the buttons, clearing his throat like that might somehow fix him. “I, uh… Wha—what’s the name of the song, sweetheart?” He calls, desperate to redirect his thoughts.

“Pornstar,” you answer, light and bubbly like it’s just any other word and the man hearing it isn’t Rafe Cameron.

Rafe freezes, staring at the wall blankly before looking down at the camcorder in his clammy hands like it might catch fire. He laughs—dry and nervous—shaking his head, trying to rattle out his impure thoughts. “Of course it is,” he mutters. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Rafe leans back against the counter, staring up at the ceiling, trying to redirect his thoughts, derailing in a moment as the door creaks and time stops. You step out in a satin dress—the inky black fabric clinging to your soft skin like it was painted on.

Your hair is tossed messily; lashes dark and fluttering. You look through the camera at him, giving him that come-hither smile that has him holding his breath.

You walk past him again—dressed like sin, and Rafe follows you like a puppy, angling the camera down at you as you sit down on his couch, the high slits on the sides of your dress teasing upper-thigh—tormenting him. Rafe lifts the camera, hands already trembling.

You reach over, pushing play on the track, letting your new single swell through his lavish apartment. “Action.”

♫⋆｡♪ I wanna watch you like a movie

I wanna put you on the stage

I wanna know what you’d do to me

I wanna put you on the tape…

Flashing red light

Baby, you’re a star…♫⋆｡♪

Rafe is fixated; following the slow drag of your palm down your thigh, the curve of your lips when you mouth the words of the song coming from your phone, the arch of your back when the chorus drops.

♫⋆｡♪Fuck me all night

Show me who you are…

Pornstar…♫⋆｡♪

He swallows hard, jaw tightening, knees locking, brain short-circuiting as you tip your head slightly, eyes wide and longing as you lip sync.

Because this isn’t just a song. This is you asking, Do you still want me? And every part of him—the broken and longing—is screaming: Yes.

You stand up mid-chorus, smooth and deliberate, and he follows, still clutching the camcorder, still forgetting how to breathe around you as you walk toward his bedroom.

You don’t say a word as you push open the door, disappearing inside, leaving it wide for him to follow.

He catches every moment, the shift of your hair when you move, the stretch of satin over your curves, the sly bend of your smile. He barely makes it through the doorway when you spin around, grinning wickedly.

“Cut.”

His eyes widen, lashes blinking like that can’t possibly be true. “That’s… uh. That’s it? Don’t you need more?” He almost whines, looking back at you helplessly.

“Yeah, silly. I just have to change,” you tease, walking past him and running your hand across his broad chest as you move toward his walk-in closet.

Rafe sets the camcorder carefully on the nightstand and rests his hands on top of his head.

His ears perk up at the rustle of clothes, the sound of hangers sliding, the breath of satin hitting the floor. He turns, just enough to catch a glimpse of black pooling at your feet, before looking away.

“Can I help you find somethin’?” He asks hopefully—just a few seconds too late—but his disappointment is quickly interrupted by the sight of you stepping out in nothing but heels and a game-day button-down—white, oversized, freshly pressed, hanging half off your shoulder.

“Fuck me.” He can’t stop those two needy words from slipping past his lips. His cheeks burn with embarrassment as you giggle and roll your eyes.

“That’s not very professional, Cameron,” you smile.

“Well,” he huffs, his eyes refusing to blink, “never said I was… M’workin’ for free, by the way—”

“Damn,” you giggle. “This isn’t a part of our friendship agreement. You wanna get paid?” You ask as you step toward him slowly, designer heels clicking across the hardwood.

“I guess… I—” He mumbles, swallowing hard, eyes locked on the valley of cleavage peeking from his button-down. “What, umm… What was I talkin’ about?” He asks as his gaze lifts to yours.

You shrug and smile, and he moves a little closer. Your heart races as you feel the heat of his body radiating off his clothes, his rich cologne muddling your thoughts. You lean in, breath warm and teasing, as you press your hands against his chest feeling his heart bang under your palms.

“Action.”

You walk away and he shakes his head, rattling out those thoughts, fumbling as he raises the camera to meet you. Your hips are slow and fluid, swaying to the music bleeding faintly through the room.

Your fingers trail along his black curtains, the edge of his dresser that he fucked you on once before, running your nails across the glass of the stand up mirror he watched you from as he took you from the back—moment after moment, memory after memory–marking your territory without ever saying a word.

When you reached the balcony doors, you slid one open, letting the cool LA night spill in, goosebumps rise along his strong arms. You step outside; the city lit up around you, a halo of gold and blue washing over you.

The hem of his shirt flutters around your thighs; hair caught up in the breeze–Rafe’s jaw clenches tight as he watches you back up into the balcony rail, arching your back, letting your hair dangle over the edge.

You lean forward, twist around like he grabbed your hips, arching your back slow and deliberate.

♫⋆｡♪I wanna hear you talking dirty

I wanna see it on your face

I wanna feel you put the work in

I wanna watch you entertain…

Flashing red light

Baby, you’re a star…♫⋆｡♪

He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t fucking think. Could barely remember why he was supposed to stay still at all.

♫⋆｡♪Fuck me all night

Show me who you are…♫⋆｡♪

And then, just when he thought it couldn’t get better your hands moved up your body. Pinch. Twist. Pop. The first button came undone and Rafe’s stomach dropped. You moved to the next as you walked past the stunned man before you. Pinch. Twist. Pop. Pinch. Twist. Pop.

When the last button slipped free, the shirt slid from your shoulders onto the floor. And underneath? Nothing but black lace. Thin straps clinging to your shoulders. Bodice hugging every perfect curve. The fabric, sheer in all the right places. Cut high, curved low—designed to kill him on sight.

♫⋆｡♪ Pornstar

Pornstar

Show me who you are…♫⋆｡♪

Then you turn around and it knocks the air clean out of his chest. He knows that lingerie. Knows it down to the little bow at the center of your chest, the sheer black lace, the thin straps framing your hips just right.

You’re standing in front of his bed like you never left it. Same look in your eyes… His girl. It’s like his body remembers before his brain can catch up—a sudden ache behind his ribs that makes it hard to swallow.

Tears threaten before he even understands why as his frustration swells in his throat because why the fuck are you so pretty? And how the hell did he mess this up?

He’s already burning it into memory again. The way the lace hugs your curves. The way your hair falls. Every inch of bare skin he hasn’t seen in weeks. He takes a mental picture—one he knows he’ll see every night when he closes his eyes and reaches for himself.

Then you hold out your hand and without a second thought, he gives you his. You pull him gently toward the bed, the camera still rolling, catching the gold glint of his Rolex and the way his big hand perfectly wraps around yours.

You step backwards, guiding him, eyes locked on him. And when your knees hit the edge of the bed, you let yourself fall back.

Your hands drift higher and higher, fingertips skimming up your sides as you stretch across the comforter. And just before he crumbles and waves his white flag of defeat you whisper a soft, “Cut.”

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

Neither of you sleep. Not really. Not even after you say goodnight and goodbye. He stays sprawled out on the couch, muscles aching, sweat cooling on his bare chest, breathing hard. Even harder when he thinks of you—smiling in that hoodie he let you take home.

His mind reels with snapshots of the night: you in that black dress, dropping his shirt off your perfect body, you in the lingerie he thought maybe he had just imagined in some sort of lucid dream but it was that same pretty little set. His same beautiful girl.

His cock throbs against the waistband of his sweats—trapped and leaking—twitching with every heartbeat.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚

Across the city, you lie twisted in his sweatshirt, flushed and panting, vibrator buzzing steady against your clit.

Your thighs are slick, trembling; your whole body on edge, hypersensitive and starved for him. You whimper into the sheets, grinding against the toy in frantic, needy little circles.

In your mind, it’s him—his hands, rough and greedy on your skin as his hungry mouth moves desperately with yours. His voice, low and deep in your mind as it swirls around like a song. ‘You have no fucking idea how bad I need you right now, sweetheart.’ You press the toy harder, making your stomach coil, your hips rolling faster.

It crashes over you—sharp and hot. Your orgasm rips through you, thighs shaking, hips bucking helplessly, but it barely scratches the surface.

You’re still burning; still clenching around something fake, craving something real, dragging the sleeve of his hoodie to your mouth, breathing him in deeper.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚

Rafe groans, low and broken, as he shoves a hand in his pants and wraps it around his thick cock. He’s already a fuckin’ mess, sticky with precum, throbbing and sensitive, hissing at his rough touch.

He squeezes his eyes shut, but all he can see is you—slick and spread wide, whimpering into his pillow with his cock buried in your pussy.

In his head, your voice ruins him, ‘Say it, Rafe. Say you’re mine.’

He fists himself harder, rough strokes dragging over the fat head of his cock, hips jerking off the couch.

“Fuck,” he gasps, breathless as his orgasm hits, spilling all over his fist and stomach, groaning into the empty room. Ropes and ropes of cum, picturing it filling you up; your glossed hole creamy and wet, leaking onto his sheets.

He pictures the way your fingers reach between your thighs, showing it off like you’re proud, gathering him on your fingers before you take it between your lips, your pretty pink tongue swirling slow, sucking yourself clean, making his thoughts turn greedy as he thinks about ruining your mouth, the man not even close to coming down from his high, already dreaming about the next with you.

But the second it fades… the second he thinks those thoughts, he’s hard again. Still aching. Still desperate.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚

But you don’t stop either. Tears sting your eyes as you tow the toy back up to your clit, nipples dragging across the rough material of his hoodie.

You picture him slamming the bedroom door open, crossing the room in two furious strides. Tearing the toy out of your hands.

Your second orgasm crashes into you harder than the first—sharper and meaner, soaking the sheets, dripping down on the mattress.

You toss the toy beside you, chest heaving as your body shakes, chasing what only he can give you. You reach over, rolling to his side of the bed, grabbing his pillow you couldn’t bring yourself to wash.

You shift just enough to straddle it, thighs burning as you start to ride, eyes screwed shut as you picture Rafe below you.

You can see him so clearly—his hands on your hips, jaw clenched, blue eyes dark as he drinks you in. ‘Look at you, baby… So needy for me. So fuckin’ wet. I’ve got you. You don’t have to beg. I know exactly what you need. You’re mine. You know that, right? You were made to fuck me.’

You cry out, grinding harder as the pressure inside you builds fast. Your hips rock, frantic and filthy, your soaked pussy dragging against the pillow in tight, desperate rolls. You picture his hands gripping your ass, guiding you faster.

His head tipped back, breath ragged, smiling up at you like you’re his whole fuckin’ world. ‘You’re so beautiful when you cum for me. So fuckin’ perfect. That’s it, baby. Just like that.’

Your eyes squeeze shut, hands clawing the pillow, and your release finally hits. Tears spill hot down your cheeks—you don’t even try to hold them back.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚

Rafe slows down… That’s what you would do.

He lowers his pants down on his hips, laying down on the couch, gathering his cum on his hand for lube before starting again.

He bites down on his bottom lip, picturing you riding him slow; hips grinding, tits bouncing. ‘You’re dripping for me, baby. Look at you.’

It’s a full-body fantasy of you straddling his hips, eyes rolling back, mouth slick and swollen from kissing. He pictures your hands on his chest, nails scratching down, voice soft and breathless. ‘Fuck, Rafe… Feels so good, baby… You’re so deep.’

He pictures you tilting closer, taking in your sweet perfume, the warmth of your breathing hitting his lips as they brush against his and you whisper into his mouth, ‘—It’s like you were made for me…’

“Fuck,” he groans, head falling back.

‘You like watching me ride you, don’t you?’ Your smile is so ingrained in his mind—burned into his memory—your soft giggle and the sparkle in your eye making him groan with need. ‘I know you do, Rafe. Let me make you feel good, baby… Let me take care of you. I love taking care of you. I love you—’

And with those sweet thoughts, he’s gone.

‘Tell me you’re mine, Rafe. Say it so I can cum for you—’

“I’m yours,” he gasps—pathetic and hoarse. “All yours, sweetheart. Always.” He strokes faster, rougher, your voice wrapping around him like silk.

He chokes out your name as the orgasm crashes over him, cumming in thick, messy spurts, hips stuttering, body jerking under his own hand. Moaning deep into the quiet.

And without thinking, hands shaking, he grabs his phone…

Rafe: i miss you so bad it’s pathetic

Rafe: can’t even close my eyes without seeing you

He tosses the phone on the table, rubbing his hands over his eyes in annoyance, grumbling about his lack of self control.

Your phone buzzes on your night stand, making your stomach flutter. Your body clenches the second you see his name; heart melting when you see the words on his text you were dying to say yourself.

You snap a photo—messy hair, glowy skin, thighs bare, his sweatshirt bunched around your hips, hiding just enough, and send it.

Your Name: me too

He lets out a strangled, broken laugh and buries his face in the couch, smiling like a fucking idiot. Like he’s hopelessly in love… because he is. There’s no surviving you. There’s no getting over you. There’s only you.

His thumbs shake as he types:

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

#rafe cameron #rafe #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #hockey!rafe #hockey!rafe ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ #⋆.°🧸๋ྀི࣭⭑ bar down #hockey rafe #nhl!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe smau

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kingkaisen · 1 year ago

Text

After what happened to you and your son, Satoru can’t stop drinking . . .

content: drinking, mentions of wanting to die, death, blood.

His tongue was numb from the burning alcohol that slipped down his throat in questionable amounts. The bartender had started to grow concerned, discreetly raising one of his eyebrows at the white-haired man.

“Here,” the bartender poured Satoru’s poison into another shot glass and sat it down in front of him with a gentle clank. “This one’s on the house. Do I need to call a cab for you, sir? Or do you have a ride?”

The young bartender was met with glassy, bloodshot eyes. The windows of Satoru’s soul were shattered, reflecting nothing except brokenness and a lack of sobriety.

Satoru didn’t answer. He only blinked at the bartender. It was a slow, mechanical click of the lids as if he had to remind himself to blink.

Blink, blink, blink.

He preferred not to do so, because every time he closed his eyes — even for the second it took to keep his blue orbs from drying out — he saw it.

It, being the reason why he was at the dead, boring bar that smelt of old wood and faint musk in the first place.

He was here almost every night because of you.

Because of what happened to you.

Satoru wrapped his unsteady hand around the shot glass, downing the drink as he tried to drown his sorrows.

He sat the fourth small glass down next to the other ones. He needed more. It wasn’t enough. He wasn’t drunk enough. There wasn’t enough alcohol in his belly to wash away the sickness he felt swirling around in the pit of his stomach whenever he thought about you.

“Another one,” Satoru’s voice was unrecognizable to his own ears. “Another one . . . Please.”

The bartender hesitated, wiping his hands off on the white towel across his shoulder.

The bar needed money. The other three customers who were lingering around were mainly there for the pool table, and bought a glass of beer just to sip on it while they played.

The family-owned business was at risk of shutting down thanks to the brand new club in the next town over, packed with young adults who were not only drinking, but dancing underneath neon lights and loud music as well.

This old bar could only afford to have the same old country songs on repeat, playing lowly in the background.

Even so, the bartender didn’t want money badly enough to contribute to this man’s horrific habit.

Someone like Satoru should have been at the club in the other town. He appeared to be much too young to drink his life away.

“Sir?” The bartender tilted his head, speaking softly to the depressed man. “I’m not supposed to ask customers why they’re drinking, but you’re a regular here, and . . . I’d love to know why.”

The question didn’t bother Satoru, truth be told. After all, everyone often asked him that, or a variety of similar questions.

“All you do is drink now, Gojo. That won’t solve anything. Why are you being so useless?”

“Why did you quit being a sorcerer? The world needs you! You were the strongest!”

“You don’t smile or laugh anymore. What happened to the old goofball we all love?”

Satoru sadly smiled at the bartender.

“My entire family is dead . . . ‘cause of me.”

The bartender’s eyes widened. He immediately poured Satoru another shot, and one for himself as well.

“I had a-a job. Dangerous one, but I was the best at it. I was a teacher too, and with the kinda work I did, I watched people die more often than I’d like to admit. My . . . My wife. She wanted me to quit. The world was getting more and more dangerous, and she didn’t want me to die. But I was a cocky son-of-a-bitch . . . I was thinking, ‘I’m Satoru Gojo! Nothing’s gonna happen to me, I’m the strongest!’”

Satoru paused, gulping down another shot. A tear ran down his cheek. “One day, I was out on a mission. My wife didn't want me to go. Typical. When I came home a few days later, I walked through the front door, and . . . her and my three-year-old son. He was three years old.”

“What happened to them?” The bartender asked softly.

“What happened is that I didn’t listen. When you’re the strongest, you make plenty of enemies. And if your enemies are smart, they know that they can’t hurt you directly. They wouldn’t win. So,” Gojo ran his shaky hand across his pale face, “they go after your loved ones. The enemies I had to put up with were heartless. There was so much blood, I couldn’t . . . they killed my-my wife . . . They killed my wife and my boy . . . my baby boy.”

Satoru clenched his fists hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. Hot tears fell from his reddened waterline.

“I quit my job after that. Left my students behind.”

“I would’ve quit too,” the bartender said, swallowing down his shot. “I’m sorry that happened to you, sir.”

Gojo nodded, as he was sorry it happened as well.

He didn’t tell the bartender everything, though.

The lump in his throat that formed from choking back a sob wouldn’t allow for any more words to be spoken.

He failed to mention that the blood was fresh, still bright and liquidity, meaning that your death had occurred only moments before he arrived home.

And he didn’t get home fast enough.

He didn’t mention that the blood had soaked his hands, and he nearly burned his skin off trying to boil the red stains off of him.

He didn’t mention the fact that he had lost his mind. He went on a killing spree around the country, murdering every curse and curse user he came across, paying no mind to any innocent civilians who might have gotten caught in the crossfire.

He didn’t mention how badly he wanted to die too, but he was holding on because he couldn’t kill the demon that murdered his family, but he wouldn’t rest until he found a way.

However, there was one thing he would always keep to himself — one thing he wouldn’t dare mention.

It was the fact that your bodies were never found.

Perhaps, if he wasn’t drunk nearly every second of every day — and he visited other places in town aside from the bar — he would have noticed that the kind coffee shop owner who owned a business right down the street looked incredibly identical to you.

And the boy who helped run the shop on the weekends had the same head of white hair as him.

— FIND PART II HERE —

#gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fic #gojo x reader fic #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #tw dark content #cw dark content #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fic #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #gojo imagine #gojo angst

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hameesstuff · 8 days ago

Text

"Like A Tangerine"

Pairing: Jaehyun x Female NCT Member Reader

Genre: Slow burn, friends-to-lovers, teasing, fluff, humor, emotional comfort, Heavy smut at the end.

Length: ~10k

___________________________________________

“Your Heart’s in Wardrobe”

“Do I look like someone who just got dumped?” you asked, deadpan, holding two identical stage outfits up in front of the mirror.

“Hmm,” Jaehyun replied, leaning against the doorway, sipping his iced Americano with the casual arrogance of someone who always looked ten out of ten. “You look like someone who got dumped, stole his hoodie, and is now plotting his professional downfall. So. Kinda.”

You deadpanned at him.

He raised a brow. “Too soon?”

“You are too soon,” you muttered.

“Too soon for you, baby,” he shot back with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, but he caught the upward twitch of your mouth before you turned back to the mirror.

You hadn’t meant to cry on day two of tour.

But emotions were unpredictable—like airport schedules, or Jaehyun’s hair color.

One moment, you were fixing your mic pack; the next, your manager casually mentioned your ex's new public date, and the world tilted sideways.

And of course, Jaehyun was the one who found you curled behind the costume racks, holding back tears and threatening to stab anyone who said the word “feelings.”

“Are you… talking to the rhinestones?” he asked, gently crouching beside you.

“They’re listening better than you are,” you sniffed.

Jaehyun nodded solemnly. “I mean. That’s fair. I do zone out a lot when people say big words. Like ‘respectfully’ and ‘boundaries.’”

You snorted. And cursed him for it.

“Do you want me to punch something?” he asked. “Because I’ve been looking for an excuse to deck Doyoung again. He took my banana this morning.”

You blinked at him, caught between emotional breakdown and confused amusement.

“Why would you punch Doyoung when my ex is the problem?”

“Oh. Right.” He shrugged. “I just hate when Doyoung wins.”

It became a thing.

Every time you got quiet, Jaehyun would appear.

Sometimes with snacks. Sometimes with bad pickup lines. Once with a sock puppet.

“You deserve better than him,” said Sock-Jaehyun in a terrible falsetto. “Also, can I get your number?”

You threw a pretzel at his face. Missed.

He caught it with his mouth.

“What can I say?” he grinned. “I’m good with things women throw at me.”

The members noticed first.

“Jaehyun’s smiling too much lately,” Johnny muttered over ramen one night.

“Yeah,” Haechan said. “It’s gross.”

“Right?” Mark chimed in. “He even offered me the front seat in the van. That’s suspiciously romantic.”

You tried not to look guilty. Or flattered.

But Jaehyun?

He just shrugged, face calm, sipping his drink.

“I’m just a gentleman,” he said with mock innocence.

You kicked his shin under the table.

He smirked like he won.

“Late Nights & Mic Checks”

The first time Jaehyun changes his lyric just for you, you don’t notice.

Everyone else does.

It’s during rehearsal for your joint track—one of those sultry, layered duets with too much breath and not enough personal space. You’re adjusting your in-ears when you hear it:

“I’m not yours, but you got me…”

A beat.

“Wearing your smile like I owe you.”

Doyoung turns around instantly.

“What was that?”

Jaehyun shrugs, feigning innocence. “New vibe. Artistic choice.”

“Artistic my ass,” Johnny mutters. “You looked straight at her.”

You blink. “Wait. What did he say?”

Jaehyun smirks. “Don’t worry about it, baby.”

You throw your water bottle at him.

The teasing gets worse.

Or better, depending on who’s watching.

In the green room:

“Y/N, Jaehyun saved you the good chair,” Mark singsongs.

“He warmed it with his feelings,” Haechan adds.

During dance practice:

“Wow,” Ten whistles. “Did you two choreograph that eye contact?”

And on the bus ride to Osaka:

You fall asleep on Jaehyun’s shoulder.

When you wake up, he’s still there, still still, earbuds in, not even pretending to move.

“Was I drooling?” you mumble.

“Only a little.”

You groan.

He chuckles.

“You snore.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.” He bumps your head with his. “It’s cute.”

Your heart stutters.

You hate how good that makes you feel.

The night out happens in Kyoto.

A rare free evening. The members split into pairs to explore the market square—street food, neon umbrellas, the scent of rain in the air.

You end up with Jaehyun.

Of course you do.

You're both holding skewers of yakitori, standing under the same umbrella, close enough to share warmth. The clouds crack open with soft, rhythmic rainfall.

You should’ve been watching the lantern parade.

Instead, you’re watching him.

Raindrops catch in his hair. His hoodie’s damp around the collar. He looks over at you—and something in his eyes shifts.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, breath catching.

He doesn’t answer.

Just stares at you a moment too long.

Then steps closer.

The rain falls harder around you.

“Your lip,” he murmurs, eyes dropping. “You got sauce—”

And you don’t know who leans in first.

But suddenly, his face is inches from yours.

And you’re blinking up at him, lips parting, breath catching—and then—

“GUYS! We found mochi!” Mark yells from down the alley.

You jump apart like teenagers caught kissing behind the bleachers.

Jaehyun clears his throat. Looks away.

You curse under your breath and pretend to be very interested in your skewer.

He doesn’t touch you again the rest of the night.

But his hand stays very, very close to yours.

“Glint & Glow”

The Seoul night is alive.

The venue tonight isn’t a stage or a rehearsal room, but a rooftop club overlooking the city—neon signs bleeding into the dark sky, laughter and music echoing like a heartbeat across glass towers.

The boys had dragged everyone out after a successful showcase. “You need to let loose,” Johnny had insisted, tugging you by the wrist while Jaemin offered you a ridiculously large pair of sunglasses as a “party gift.” You rolled your eyes, but the truth is—you needed this. Needed the distraction. Needed to feel like something other than the girl who got left behind.

And Jaehyun…?

You’re not sure when it started feeling like he was your shadow. But lately, he’s been there—during breaks, after stage runs, beside you during long van rides. And tonight is no different.

Inside the club, the bass thrums under your skin like electricity.

You’re mid-laugh, drink in hand, as you and Haechan stumble through a chaotic attempt at dancing. He’s doing something between a robot and a chicken and calling it “experimental art.” You’re cackling. It's one of those perfect, dumb moments that loosens the weight in your chest.

That’s when Jaehyun appears behind you—his hand casually slipping around your waist as he leans in to be heard over the music. His lips are near your ear. Too near.

“You’re really bad at this,” he murmurs.

You spin around, mock-offended, grinning up at him. “Excuse me, I have rhythm.”

He tilts his head. “Sure. In your own… chaotic way.”

“Oh, you think you can do better?”

He just smirks.

And then—without warning—Jaehyun takes your drink, sets it on the bar behind you, and pulls you gently by the hand into the middle of the dancefloor.

You blink. “Wait, wait, wait—what is happening—”

“We’re fixing your reputation,” he says, that sly grin playing on his lips.

Your heart jumps. Because dancing with Jaehyun shouldn’t feel this intimate. But it does.

He’s close, not close enough to touch fully, but enough that every brush of your bodies, every shift of his hips as he matches your rhythm, feels like a static spark crawling across your skin.

The song changes—slower now. Thicker with beat and heat.

And he leans in again, voice smooth, teasing. “See? This is what rhythm looks like.”

You bite your lip, playfully rolling your eyes, but you can’t deny it—Jaehyun moves like the music lives in him. Smooth. Effortless. Confident.

“Fine,” you say, “teach me, oh dance god.”

His chuckle rumbles low. “You sure you can handle that?”

Your hand finds his shoulder, your other resting lightly at his wrist as he takes your waist. You expect him to pull you closer. He doesn’t. Not yet. He keeps just a hair of space between you, like he knows it’ll drive you mad.

And it does.

Because it’s right there—the energy buzzing between you, the closeness that feels so intimate without touching skin.

You dance. You float.

The city sparkles below, but the world narrows until it’s just him. Just Jaehyun and the way he looks at you—like there’s no one else. Like you’re not his member, not his friend, not the girl nursing a bruised heart. Just you.

He leans close again, this time his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You’re smiling,” he murmurs. “Genuine this time.”

You don’t even realize it until he says it.

“Yeah,” you admit softly, glancing up at him through your lashes. “Guess I am.”

Jaehyun’s eyes flicker downward for a second—at your lips, at the barely-there gap between you.

It’s so close.

But he doesn’t kiss you.

Instead, he just smiles. That soft, unreadable Jaehyun smile that makes your breath hitch, like he knows something you don’t.

“Rainfall and Almosts” (The Kiss)

You don’t even remember who first suggested it. Maybe Doyoung, maybe Mark. One moment, you're all spilling out of the club, hot and dizzy from dancing, and the next—you're wandering the quiet streets of Seoul at midnight.

It’s peaceful.

No crowds. Just streetlights and sleepy convenience stores, a soft summer breeze playing with the hems of your clothes. You’re walking beside Jaehyun again—of course you are—and the others are somewhere ahead, laughing over a bag of snacks.

Then the rain starts.

Not a storm. Just a quiet, steady drizzle—gentle, like it’s washing the world clean.

“Seriously?” Haechan groans. “Do we look like we prepared for a music video shoot?”

“Speak for yourself,” Johnny replies, running a hand through his wet hair like he’s in a shampoo ad. “I’m the main character.”

You laugh, water already soaking through your sleeves. Everyone’s making a mess of it—some ducking under bus stop awnings, others shrieking like children.

But you and Jaehyun?

You don’t run.

You just… stand there. In the middle of the sidewalk. Letting it fall.

“Rain suits you,” he says suddenly, watching you with unreadable eyes.

You blink, water clinging to your lashes. “Is that your way of telling me I look like a raccoon?”

His lip twitches. “No. You look… softer. Real.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

So you don’t say anything.

You just look at him. Watch the rain catch in the hollow of his throat. The way his shirt’s starting to cling to him. The glint of city lights in his damp hair. How gentle he looks—softer, like he said about you. But there's still something untouchable about him, like he’s carved out of something the rain can't erode.

But this moment?

It feels like something sacred.

Jaehyun steps closer.

You feel it before it happens. The shift. The silence. Your pulse ticking up in your throat. The way his fingers skim your wrist first—like asking permission—before they slip into yours, slow and certain.

And then his other hand is on your cheek, warm against your rain-cold skin.

You don't breathe. You barely exist. You're just waiting.

His eyes drop to your mouth.

“You’re going to disappear on me after this, aren’t you?” he murmurs.

You shake your head, voice barely a whisper. “No.”

He leans in.

And this time… he doesn’t stop.

Jaehyun kisses you in the rain, slow and aching. His lips taste like rain and tension and every almost you’ve ever had with him. It’s not hungry—it’s sure. Like he’s been waiting, choosing this exact second to fall.

Your fingers tighten in his shirt.

His arm slips around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and the kiss deepens—like he’s pouring months of emotion into it, into you, into everything left unspoken.

It’s not fireworks.

It’s quieter.

More dangerous.

Like gravity shifting, locking you in place.

By the time you pull away, breathless and blinking through rain, he still hasn’t let go.

Neither have you.

“Velvet & Voltage – The Moment He Knew”

The ballroom feels like it’s from another era—chandeliers dripping with light, gold-rimmed champagne glasses clinking, silk gowns sweeping across the marble. And somewhere in that sea of people, you walk in.

Not alone, but glowing.

Your deep emerald gown clings in all the right places. Skin dewy, hair swept up with soft strands framing your face. Laughter dances in your voice as you say something to Haechan beside you, but Jaehyun doesn’t hear a word.

He sees you.

He’s across the room in a circle of executives, nodding at something Johnny says. But then he glances up—and time lurches. His breath stills. His lips part slightly.

You catch him watching.

And instead of blushing, you smile—soft, subtle, but real.

Jaehyun swears his heart actually stutters.

Throughout the night, he doesn’t approach right away.

He watches from the edges. Watches you tilt your head back in laughter at something Mark whispers. Watches you sway a little as the orchestra plays a familiar love song. Watches you twirl once, just for fun, when Yuta offers his hand dramatically.

Every movement feels like something out of a dream he’s been too afraid to have.

“She looks really happy tonight,” Doyoung murmurs beside him, handing over a drink.

Jaehyun takes it but doesn’t sip. “She does.”

“And you’re just going to keep standing here like a silent statue?”

Jaehyun glares. “I’m trying to figure out what to say when I do walk over.”

Johnny joins them, sipping champagne. “You don’t need to say anything, bro. Just go.”

“But she just got out of a breakup.”

“She’s glowing because of you, dumbass,” Doyoung mutters.

When the strings start their fourth waltz of the night, you’re on the edge of the dancefloor alone. The others have filtered to the bar or terrace. You’re just admiring the violins when a familiar deep voice breaks through the air behind you.

“Dance with me.”

You turn slowly.

Jaehyun.

Holding his hand out, lips quirked, eyes unreadable.

You give him yours.

He pulls you in with practiced ease—one hand at your waist, the other holding yours like you’re something breakable but divine.

Up close, the tension is palpable. He smells like dark cedar and champagne. His breath grazes your temple when he says:

“You’re the most beautiful thing in this room.”

You laugh, a little breathless. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’ve been saying it in my head all night.”

You look up at him.

And this close—this slow—this warm—there’s no more pretense.

Just him, staring at you like he’s already in heaven.

Nearby, you hear a faint whistle—definitely Haechan. Johnny’s laughing into his flute. Yuta mutters, “Took him long enough.”

You flush.

Jaehyun just smirks, tilting his forehead to yours for a moment as you spin. “Ignore them.”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder.”

Later, alone on the private balcony, rain patters gently nearby. You’ve kicked off your heels. He’s unbuttoned his cuffs. The gala pulses in the background like a distant heartbeat.

You both lean against the railing, arms barely touching.

“You keep doing this thing,” you say.

“What thing?”

“Looking at me like you’re about to say something but never do.”

He turns his head, fully facing you now. “That’s because I am about to say something.”

You meet his eyes.

“Then say it.”

Jaehyun moves in. No rush. Just pure, slow want.

His palm finds your jaw, thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip.

“I want you.”

“Gold and Honey"

The ballroom still glitters behind your eyes as you unlock the hotel suite door.

Your heels click softly on the marble floor, but your breath is already catching. You feel him behind you—his presence magnetic. Warm. Weighted.

"You're quiet," you murmur, not turning around.

Jaehyun’s voice is soft but full of something molten. “You wore that dress knowing exactly what it would do to me.”

You smile slightly. “And?”

“And I haven’t been able to think straight all night.”

When you finally turn to face him, his eyes are locked on you—dark, reverent, a flicker of restraint glinting behind the desire. “You looked like every fantasy I’ve ever had,” he says quietly. “And now I get to touch you.”

He steps forward and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers trailing down your neck with agonizing care. “If you want me to stop, tell me now.”

Instead, you grab his lapel and pull him into a kiss.

It’s tender at first—slow, mouths molding together in pure want—but then his hand slides to the back of your neck, deepening it, tongue stroking yours with maddening grace. When you moan into his mouth, he pulls away just slightly.

“That sound,” he murmurs. “You make me want to ruin you.”

A thrill dances through your chest.

Jaehyun gently presses you against the wall, his thigh slipping between yours, pressing just enough to make you gasp. He leans down, lips at your ear. “Been thinking about how tight you’ll feel around me. Wondering if you can even take it.”

He groans, forehead resting against yours. “You’re going to kill me.”

His fingers trail down the side of your dress, unzipping it painstakingly slow, lips brushing your collarbone. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispers. “I’m going to worship you tonight.”

The dress drops to the floor. You're left in lacy lingerie—bare, wanting.

He steps back for a moment and exhales hard. “Jesus, baby… look at you.”

You reach for his belt, and he grabs your wrist gently. “Let me take care of you first.”

He kisses down your neck, down the valley of your breasts, lips slow and reverent. “Every inch of you deserves attention.”

When he drops to his knees, eyes still locked on yours, you whimper.

He licks up your thigh slowly. “Tell me what you need.”

“You.”

“Where?”

Your hips twitch forward. “Your mouth.”

He smiles, devilish and sweet. “Good girl.”

When his tongue finally strokes between your folds, it’s like fire. Slow, rhythmic, patient. He teases with his tongue, then hums low when he finds your most sensitive spot. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging.

He praises between licks, voice deep and raspy:

“Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted… so wet for me already.”

“You take everything I give you, don’t you?”

“Such a perfect pussy. Made for me.”

You tremble as he works you closer and closer to the edge. When you finally fall over, he doesn’t stop until you’re gasping, twitching, his name breaking from your lips like a prayer.

He stands, eyes burning with pride. You barely register when he strips down, but when he’s finally bare, your breath catches.

He’s big. Thick. Veined.

His groan is feral. He climbs over you on the bed, positioning himself slowly, eyes glued to yours. “You sure?”

You nod, lips parted.

He pushes in slow—inch by inch. You both gasp.

“God,” he hisses. “So tight—so fucking warm.”

You dig your nails into his back, stretching around him. He holds still, breathing hard against your shoulder.

“You okay?” he whispers.

“More than okay. Please move.”

He begins to thrust slowly, hips rolling deep with each movement. One hand finds your thigh, hitching it up, angle hitting something devastating inside you. The pleasure spirals. He groans against your throat.

“You feel like heaven,” he pants. “Like you were made for me.”

You arch under him. “Jaehyun, I’m gonna—”

“Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

You come again, harder this time, and Jaehyun follows with a guttural moan, spilling deep inside you with one final thrust.

He collapses over you, kissing your shoulder, lips pressed to your skin like you’re something holy.

After a long, warm silence, he murmurs, “That wasn’t just sex. You know that, right?”

You look at him, heart still pounding. “I know.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, voice rough and full of affection. “Let me be the one who never makes you cry. Except like this.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around him. “Stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

EPILOGUE — “Daycare Diaries"

The NCT content team didn’t technically tell you you'd be spending the day surrounded by sugar-high toddlers. They just said, “Wholesome volunteer vlog. Family-friendly. Easy.”

So naturally, you ended up in a pastel-colored daycare with thirty children under five, Jaehyun, Johnny, and Mark—plus four cameras rolling and zero emotional preparation.

Jaehyun has one twin on each knee, reading a picture book in his softest voice, totally oblivious to the meltdown happening two feet away.

“Uh… I think that one just bit me,” Mark mutters, staring at a toddler who's now clinging to his leg like a lifeline.

You try not to laugh. “Maybe it’s a love bite.”

“I don’t want to raise children anymore,” he whispers.

Meanwhile, Johnny’s doing damage control with a group of kids who are coloring on the walls. “Okay, Picasso, let’s stick to the paper, yeah? The paper is your friend.”

You look over at Jaehyun again.

He's patient, unbothered, voice calm and steady. One of the kids hugs his neck like a koala, and he just smiles, adjusting to hold her better.

Your heart clenches.

“Why are you staring at him like he’s the star of a family K-drama?” Johnny teases from across the room.

“I’m not—”

“You’re definitely picturing him holding your future baby.”

You shoot Johnny a glare, cheeks heating. Jaehyun just smirks and keeps reading aloud, but he definitely heard that.

Mark limps over, still dragging a kid. “Okay, who gave the children sugar? Who allowed that?”

Johnny deadpans.

The End.

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joaeriz · 1 month ago

Text

In This Quiet Kind of Love

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd Word Count: ~1.4k Genre: Fluff / Domestic / Established Relationship Summary: Paige and Azzi spend a quiet night in their shared apartment—post-practice aches, late-night pancakes, soft confessions, and the kind of love that doesn't need to shout. Warnings: None, just pure sapphic softness ✨

Author’s Note: i have so many feelings about soft, domestic paige x azzi… the kind of love that feels like a warm hoodie and pancakes at midnight 🥺 this is for anyone who loves slow dancing in the kitchen, whispered i love yous, and the quiet comfort of knowing you're with your person. also this is my first time writing a non x reader so let me know if you like it and if i should do more or never write one again....

It was one of those late autumn evenings where the chill in the air made the blankets on the couch feel like a luxury. The kind of night where practice lingered in your bones and the soreness somehow made the softness of home even more sacred. Inside the small off-campus apartment, the buzz of fluorescent gym lights had been replaced with the gentle golden glow of fairy lights strung haphazardly across the living room wall.

Paige was sprawled out on the couch, legs tangled in a fleece throw blanket, an ice pack strapped to her left knee. Her hair was still damp from the shower, curling a little at the ends. The TV was on, muted, something from the Food Network playing reruns in the background. Her eyes weren’t really on it, though.

She was watching Azzi instead.

Azzi stood barefoot in the kitchen, oversized UConn hoodie hanging off one shoulder, leggings hugging her in that way Paige always appreciated. Her curls were pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame her face. She was humming—something soft, something familiar—while stirring a mug of tea, completely unaware of the way Paige’s gaze was soaking her in like she was the only thing in the room worth looking at.

“Come here,” Paige called gently, voice rough from hours of yelling on the court.

Azzi turned, brow raised. “Tea’s not done yet.”

“I’m not asking for the tea.”

Azzi’s smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She padded over without hesitation, mug forgotten for the moment. She curled up next to Paige, careful of her knee, tucking herself under the blanket like she’d done it a thousand times—because she had.

“Hi,” she whispered, nose brushing against Paige’s cheek.

Paige turned her head and kissed her—just a brush, soft and slow. “Hey.”

Azzi leaned her head on Paige’s shoulder, and for a moment, there was just the sound of their breathing, synced in that unconscious, intimate way people do when they’re completely in tune.

“How’s the knee?” Azzi murmured.

“Annoying,” Paige said. “It’s nothing bad, just sore. Coach is letting me go light tomorrow.”

Azzi nodded. She was quiet for a beat before threading their fingers together beneath the blanket. “I hate when you hurt.”

Paige smiled at the honesty. “I hate when you run into screens.”

“I don’t run into them, I fight through them.”

“Sure, babe. Face-first.”

Azzi laughed softly, bumping Paige’s shoulder. “You love it.”

“I love you,” Paige corrected, tilting her head to look at her. “That part is non-negotiable.”

Azzi’s eyes flickered, always a little caught off guard when Paige said it so plainly, like it wasn’t the most massive truth in the world. But it was. And it settled into her chest with a warm kind of weight.

“I love you too,” Azzi whispered, and then kissed her, a little longer this time.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss that tried to prove something. It was the kind that knew. Slow and steady, familiar and still brand-new in some ways. Paige’s hand came up to rest on Azzi’s cheek, thumb brushing along her jaw as they melted into each other like time had paused just for them.

When they pulled apart, Paige whispered, “You taste like honey.”

“Tea,” Azzi smiled, eyes soft. “You distracted me before I finished making it.”

“Finish it now,” Paige said. “I like watching you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, grinning, but stood anyway and padded back to the kitchen. Paige’s gaze followed her like it was pulled by gravity.

Fifteen minutes later, they were curled up again—Paige’s head resting in Azzi’s lap, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on her girlfriend’s knee while Azzi sipped from her mug and read something on her iPad.

“Do you ever think about what comes next?” Paige asked suddenly, voice barely more than a murmur.

Azzi glanced down. “Next like... after college?”

“Yeah.” Paige kept tracing little figure eights, her thumb now sliding along Azzi’s shin. “Like… we’ll go pro, hopefully. You’ll get drafted. I’ll play wherever my knee holds up. But… what about us?”

Azzi blinked, setting her mug down. “Paige…”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” Paige said quickly, sitting up slightly. “I just mean—I think about it. About what it looks like. Not just ball. Us. Do we get a place together? Do we stay long distance if we get drafted to different cities? Do you get sick of me leaving cereal bowls in the sink and my socks in the couch cushions?”

Azzi was quiet for a moment. Then she smiled, slow and certain.

“I think we figure it out.”

Paige’s eyes softened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Azzi said, brushing her fingers along Paige’s jaw. “I think I’d follow you anywhere. Not because I have to. Because I want to.”

Paige closed her eyes for a moment, taking that in.

“You’re gonna be a first-round pick,” Paige murmured. “You know that, right? You deserve everything. Big market, big contract. Starting five. Your name in lights.”

Azzi tilted her head. “And you think I’d be happy with all that if you weren’t in the picture?”

Paige blinked.

“I don’t need lights, Paige,” Azzi said softly. “I just need you. If we’re in the same city, that’s amazing. If we’re not, we’ll call, we’ll fly, we’ll make it work. But you don’t need to worry about me getting sick of you. I’m in this. All the way.”

Paige’s heart felt like it was doing something dramatic in her chest—flipping or swelling or maybe both.

She leaned forward, kissed Azzi again. This time with a little more weight behind it. A promise in the press of lips.

“I want to wake up next to you every day,” Paige said when they broke apart. “I want to cook you breakfast and argue over what movie to watch and do your laundry because you hate folding it.”

Azzi laughed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “God, I love you.”

Paige wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into her chest. They stayed like that for a long while—holding each other in the quiet, the only sounds the distant hum of the fridge and the muffled TV in the background.

Eventually, Azzi mumbled against Paige’s shirt, “Wanna make pancakes?”

“It’s midnight.”

Azzi leaned back with a smirk. “And I thought you were the bad influence.”

The kitchen smelled like butter and chocolate chips by the time they were halfway through making the second batch. Azzi stood at the stove, flipping with precise wrist movements. Paige danced around behind her to a song playing from her phone speaker, out of beat and ridiculous on purpose.

“You’re such a dork,” Azzi said, trying not to smile.

Paige twirled dramatically and kissed her cheek. “But I’m your dork.”

“Unfortunately.”

“You love it.”

Azzi couldn’t deny it. She was pretty sure she’d never loved anything more.

Later, after the dishes were (mostly) cleaned and their plates were licked clean, they curled back up in bed. Paige lay on her back, one arm under Azzi’s head, the other resting over her waist. Azzi had her face pressed to Paige’s shoulder, her hand resting just over Paige’s heart.

The room was quiet again. Their kind of quiet.

“Hey,” Paige whispered.

“Hmm?”

“You’re my favorite part of every day.”

Azzi looked up, sleepy and soft. “Same.”

“Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Wherever we end up… let’s keep doing this. Talking. Pancakes at midnight. Saying ‘I love you’ like it’s the first time and the hundredth.”

Azzi kissed her collarbone, then her neck, then her jaw.

“Promise.”

And that was enough.

Because some love stories didn’t need a big ending—they just needed quiet nights, shared blankets, sleepy kisses, and the absolute certainty that no matter what came next, they’d face it together.

#wlw #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #pazzi fics #uconn #uconn wbb #paige and azzi #fluff #pazzi fluff #college wbb #sorry if this was bad #i rushed

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webslingingslasher · 1 year ago

Text

Unknown Sender

happy valentine's day!

MONDAY: 13:52

‘hi.’ Peter squints at the message, then the unsaved number. He's not sure how, but it’s a scam.

‘i’d like to have your attention, please.’ Peter rolls his eyes, swiping left to not only delete but report the number as junk. No doubt it was a bot or someone with a flair for sextortion.

A new number. ‘that was actually so rude of you, parker.’

‘unblock me right now.’

Peter shifts in his seat, he does a slow look around the room and finds nothing off putting or alarming.

‘Who is this?’

Green bubbles pop up. ‘unblock me and i’ll tell you.’ Peter was right to guess about extortion. Another swipe, blocked and reported. Peter wasn’t participating in any games.

A new number. ‘oh, now you’re just being cute.’

Peter feels his heart pick up a bit, it’s a tad threatening and now he’s overthinking it a little. What if someone has it out for him? Is there a mark on his back? ‘Please leave me alone.’

‘no.’

‘can we play 21 questions?’

Peter’s face scrunches up, he spins his head around one more time, someone is fucking with him. He has no clue who has time for something like that in university, but he’s not a willing participant anymore, not since high school.

‘Leave me alone. Go torment a freshman.’

‘i don’t like freshmen. i like you.’ Peter chews at his bottom lip, there was a second of hesitancy but he knows the truth deep down. ‘I’m blocking you.’

‘sure. i’ll keep texting you, too.’

‘I’ll change my number.’

‘noooo please don’t do that. i had to work hard enough to get it the first time.’ Peter doesn’t respond. He blocks the number and moves on, and they don’t try to text him again.

Until the next day and Peter knows two things for certain. There is a note in his backpack, and it wasn’t there before his econ lecture. He remembers pulling that pocket open before he started notes, then when he went to zip it up, a note.

This upsets him. What good was any sense when someone could get that unnoticeably close to him without him knowing? Second, it’s a little frustrating not to know who this person is and how it most likely is connected to the texts he had a few days ago, and that it’s an extremely long played joke that’s mostly boring.

‘Peter Parker-

You’ve been secretly admired. It might not be very secret, because I think you’ve caught me staring at you a thousand times. I like you a lot.

Hopefully liked back,

-X’

But a part of him believes it’s true. He’s trying to think of who’s in his lecture, if he’s caught them staring then they’re either to the side or behind him. There are too many faces, too many times he’s been looked at, he’s almost centered, it’s his fault for choosing a focal point.

Instead of throwing it away, he refolds the pink handwriting and puts it back into place before hitching a strap over his shoulder and sliding behind chairs. One, two steps up he glances at your face, you have a weak smile, he returns the same kind, it’s more like a polite nod. Peter’s always thought you were pretty and he thinks you're nice.

But really, he’s wondering who left the note.

10:30

‘did you get my note?’ Peter does his normal scan across campus, again, his fault for being out in the open. This person could be anywhere, he’s on a picnic bench with a group of friends. If he’s smart, he’d start limiting himself to contained spaces and make you show yourself.

‘Yeah. Who is this?’ Peter’s thumbs dance around the screen waiting for a reply, it comes quick. ‘i told you. x.’ He stops himself from rolling his eyes, he doesn’t know anyone with an ‘X’ anywhere in their name.

‘Is that an initial?’

‘actually, i’m pretty sure it’s british for kiss.’

‘That’s a wild take. Are you saying the UK is responsible for XOXO’s?’

‘i’d like to make you responsible for my xoxo’s.’ Peter chews his bottom lip, he won’t play into anything in writing. He doesn’t believe this for a second, everything about this feels off. Someone’s fucking with him and they’re also in his class, or they have someone in on it in his class.

But this is too advanced.

‘sorry. i don’t mean to like harass you or anything. you’re really hot but you scare me, i don’t think you would like me so idk, maybe if you talk to me you’d like me for me or something.’

‘i just think i’m punching wayyyy above my weight class here and i may be making this worse because there is no doubt you think im weird.’

‘i am weird. i should leave you alone now. i’m sorry.’

Peter reads his screen four times, it’s still not clicking. He’s nothing special and he doesn’t mean that in a way to dog on himself, he’s just nerdy and quiet. It seems a little too authentic to be fake, but he’s got to make sure.

‘How’d you get my number?’

‘your friend. they have been sworn to secrecy but they know what i’m doing and they are in full support. take that as you will.’

‘Depends on the friend.’

‘i’ll tell you when you find out who i am.’

‘I’m going to find out? You’re not going to tell me?’

‘i don’t think i’ve been hiding it. you just haven’t been paying attention and now i want you to.’

‘Oh, but you’re shy?’

‘i’m about to pass out on the lawn behind this fucking screen, don’t play with me parker.’ A slip, you’re around him and you just admitted it. ‘Tell me, admirer, what are you wearing?’ The more detail the better, but he could work off of just a color.

‘nice try. but you’re looking mighty handsome in the blue.’ A glance down, he suddenly feels watched. ‘Are you stalking me?’

‘oh no! no no no. i PROMISE you i’m not that fucking psychotic.’

‘i’m just a “sneak a note into your backpack” level of crazy. i’m here with my roommate and her boyfriend. i saw you and just wanted to know if you got it, i promise.’

‘You do understand that this situation makes you seem psychotic, right?’

‘yes. but i am not.’

‘That sounds like something a crazy person who got my number from a third party would say. Especially after I blocked you six times.’

‘it was three and you didn’t understand my intentions but okay. you have a fair point and i extend the olive branch of brett. he gave me your number and he knows me pretty well.’

Brett? Easy enough, he nods his head towards him and slides his phone across the table. “Explain.” His friend scrolls through the thread, a trustworthy smile spreads. “Yeah, I gave her your number.” Her. Okay, it’s something. “Who is she?” Brett shrugs, “you know her. She’s kind of a firecracker, you just make her nervous.”

“That gives me nothing, Brett.” His friend blinks, “she’s not crazy. She likes you a lot for whatever fucking reason and has no idea how to approach you.” Peter’s letting his words soak in, “don’t believe me? Ask her about the grilled cheese, and make sure you tell her that I told you about how she went on for five fucking minutes about the grilled cheese.”

“What grilled cheese?” Brett slides Peter’s phone back, he’s telling him to ask you. Something tells Peter it’s enough to embarrass, or it might be Brett being the ultimate wingman.

‘I’ve been told to ask you about the grilled cheese.’

‘oh god. there is no need to ask about the grilled cheese, did brett tell you about the grilled cheese?’

‘He told me to ask you. And to specify that you went on for five minutes about it.’

‘five is excessive, it was more like three. second, there is nothing to speak about.’

‘I would like to hear about it.’

‘i’d prefer if you didn’t.’

‘But you’ll do it for me?’

‘i’m weak for you and you know it. it’s sicking, parker.’

‘i heard you talking about making one in class and you said something about the crust and i really fucking love grilled cheese’s so i had a trip to fantasy land where you made me one and how it’s probably the best thing i’ll never get to taste.’

‘Wow. Five whole minutes on that?’ Peter won’t admit it made him feel a little warm on the inside, the most mundane of things to have someone so squirrely makes him feel unworthy.

‘three.’

‘Tell me who you are and I’ll make you a grilled cheese.’

‘you have no idea how much that almost worked.’

‘What’s the plan then, master manipulator?’

‘i don’t know yet. i’m hoping you show me how smart you are and figure me out, then you can do all the hard questions.’

‘Hard questions?’

‘you know, do you wanna go on a date, do you wanna be my girlfriend, do you want to take my hand in marriage and have a summer home in the french alps? that kind of stuff.’

‘Totally not psychotic.’ Peter tucks his bottom lip between his teeth to hide the smile that wants to spread.

‘mostly not.’

WEDNESDAY: 13:57

Peter doesn’t know who X is, but they’re clever and have zero effect on his sixth sense. He doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. Either way, he’s reading a note scribbled in blue pen and as he studies the words he knows it was rushed. It’s proof that he wasn’t being followed everywhere, instead you saw an empty table and an opportunity.

‘Peter-

You use mostly gender neutral pronouns. I think that’s very cool. Is it weird that I notice those things about you? Also- what is it that you’re always drinking from Nuthouse? Asking for a friend…

Have a good day!

-Your not so secret admirer, X.

‘Not so secret,’ Peter isn’t sure about that. You’ve done a good enough job at not trying to be obviously known, he might have looked up your number last night to find dust. One was from an app, but the one you’ve been using is a burner phone.

What he’s really not understanding is how you’re able to get so close to him without him noticing. You had to have been millimeters away when you rested the letter on his backpack, he was gone for less than two minutes and he had zero awareness.

Peter folds up the note and sticks it in the same pocket as the other one, his back slung around one shoulder as he moves up the stairs for the library. At the same time, you come down the opposite side, Peter gives a friendly acknowledgement.

You choke down the lump in your throat. “Hi, Peter.” He’s already past you, it’s echoed behind his shoulder. “Hey.” It’s something. You’re trying, you’re trying to be bold for him. But he’s not going to notice, he’s never going to notice you and if you tell him who you are you’ll never live past his disappointment.

Your phone vibrates, the other phone. Your heart picks up, Peter texted first.

14:02

‘Dirty chai.’

‘best of both worlds. how fitting. you’re such a nonconforming king.’

‘I don’t even know what that means.’

‘But thank you?’

‘you’re welcome!’

‘anything fun on the roster today?’

‘Roster? Who are you?’

‘idk you make me nervous. blame yourself.’

‘Well, coach. Nothing fun on the roster, just some math. Wanna swap places with me?’

‘gross. i hate math so if you like it that’s good with me. one of us has to be smart and it’s not me.’

‘Smart enough to use a burner phone.’

‘oooooh, someone tried to find meeee.’

‘Can’t blame a guy for being curious, can you?’

‘were you disappointed when you found nothing?’

‘A little bit. But, you know, it keeps the imagination alive. A little unfair advantage on your side though, you already know what I look like.’

‘if it helps, you already know what i look like too.’

‘I do?’

‘yeah. we’ve talked before.’

‘Wait, so I know who you are?’ Brett said he did but Peter thought he meant you’d be familiar, not that he actually knew you. This just opened the floodgates to a million more possibilities.

‘not really but yeah i guess. you know i exist but we’re not friends or anything.’

‘I’d like to think we’re friends, but okay.’

‘not outside the texting.’

‘That’s your decision.’

‘HATER.’

‘Anymore hints?’

‘.... no.’

‘HATER.’

FRIDAY: 12:15

You’re about to spill hot tea everywhere but it’ll be worth it to see his face. You ignore your pounding heart and stand in front of him. He’s got no clue you showed up, zoned out looking at the clock on the wall across from him.

“Hi, Peter.”

Full frontal attention, he’s looking at you. He’s perceiving you, he’s smiling at you. “Hi,” your eyes expand, he knows your name and it sounds so nice coming from his mouth. Sure, you’ve chatted with each other- even shared a few highlighters, but nothing serious. You’ve always been too scared to try anything else but maybe your fear has been mistaken for indifference.

“I um, I lucked out today at Nuthouse so if you like dirty chai’s I got an extra one.” Your knees feel weak at his bright eyes, “my favorite. I’d love one, thank you.” You pass over the paper cup, your fingers brush and you think you’re about to collapse.

“Yeah,” a weak laugh. “I had a feeling.” Peter tilts his head at you funny, you wonder if you pushed a little too far. “Okay, um, I’m gonna… have a good… lecture.” Peter nods and watches you go two rows up, he’s finally got a gut feeling. And it tells him to keep an eye out for you.

TUESDAY: 12:10

Not that Peter was reliant on your attention, he was used to it. So when the texts stopped for three days and he was unable to find any letters he assumed you had lost interest and moved on. That felt fair to him, no harm no foul, at least he never really got to know you.

Nevermind, there’s a folded notebook page on his miniature desk and his heart speeds up. His next task, put eyes on you. Bottom level, book and pencil in hand. He makes sure to note it’s a pencil and not the green ink that’s spread across the page.

Peter thinks it’s a mind game, you were smart enough to know he’d look. Unless he was totally wrong on his guess.

‘Peter-

I ran out of minutes on my phone and I’m having a broke college kid moment. However, a friend took pity and donated a twenty to the campaign. I hope you’ve been good- I’ve missed talking to you.

- Your not so secret admirer, X’

ps. stop keeping your backpack so close to you.’

It wasn’t anything personal, you just ran out of minutes. Peter smiles so wide he has to drop it, he almost clutches the paper to his chest in a thank you. Eyeing his backpack, he nudges it a little further behind him, following instruction. He’s kept it close in hopes to catch you, but instead he’s pushing you away.

Peter’s committing the writing to memory as if he’s going to find you by the handwriting alone. A quick glance at footsteps, you’re three steps away when you smile. “Hi, Peter.” He nods, “hey.” You pause for a moment, mind racing for words.

“Did you, um- did you do anything fun this weekend?” You’re about to crawl into a hole and die, it takes a moment to click that you were speaking to him. He went as far to look behind himself, then he spewed the answer to try and make up for the lost time.

“Oh, uh not really. My aunt got a new bed so I had to lug the old one down seven flights of stairs.” Your eyes widen, you feel your mouth go dry and your tongue go thick. “By yourself?” Peter crosses his arms over his chest, a boyish grin swept over and you feel heart eyes form.

“I’m a good nephew.” You want to pat his head and tell him you’re sure he is, then maybe hold him at gunpoint and tell you more stories about how he’s a perfect humanitarian. But you act like a normal human and smile back, “you sound like it.”

Peter thanks you and you return to your seat with wobbly knees and a weak stomach, it’s silent torture to tease yourself like this with him. But you can’t help it and it’s only in effort to go after what you want. Even if it blows up when he figures out who you are.

12:13

‘you’re looking mighty handsome today, mr. parker.’

‘I’m wearing a hoodie, but thank you.’

‘i said what i said.’

Boldly, ‘i see someone had another dirty chai. can’t stay away from them, can you?’

Another tick in Peter's stomach, he almost looks behind his shoulder at you, but he doesn’t. ‘It was a generous donation from a classmate.’

‘oh? pray tell, peter. pray tell.’

‘What? You don’t have a clue about who gave it to me?’

You swallow thickly, before you could get something out he sent another message. ‘No chance you didn’t see it go down?’

‘how could i? I was still on my way.’

‘... or was i?’

‘Tell you what, X. It one of the best teas I’ve had in a while.’

And you’d be damned if that didn’t make your entire chest flutter.

FRIDAY: 15:29

“Here,” Peter’s hand clasped over the paper slapped into his chest. A hint of a syllable, Brett cuts himself off. “She asked me to give this to you.” Peter quickly read it and stared down before confiding in his friend for a second.

‘Peter-

Roses are red, violets are blue, all that I think about is you.

It’s sweet in a cringy way, right? Boo on you for skipping class today, if you want, I could get you some notes.

I hope I’ll see you Tuesday.

-Your (really) not so secret admirer, X

ps. A pen exploded in my pocket. 10/10 chance my thigh will be stained.’

“I think I might know who it is.”

“Uh, huh.”

“But, she’s way out of my league.”

“Correct.”

Peter raised his eyebrows, “so it’s her?” He clarified with your name, Brett shrugged back.

“I won’t be confirming or denying.” Peter knows what that means, “the lack of a no usually means yes.”

“Bro,” Peter starts sputtering, “oh, c’mon! You know what I meant, I just meant that, I just- c’mon, Brett. Is it her?”

“I have no idea who that is.” Peter wants to call bullshit, he has a gut feeling and he swears it’s you. You’re right, it’s not so secret. In fact, you’re painfully obvious.

FRIDAY: 23:14

‘you are soooooooo cute’

‘like your hair is so cute’

‘i looooove curly hair on guys and you have that!!!!!!!!!’

‘and you’re really funny cause like it’s so quick and witty like you have such good one liners’

‘also you’re really fucking hot and i KNOW you’re hiding something under those fucking sweaters and the second i see skin i WILL go feral.’

‘Something tells me you’re at the Kappa party.’ Peter’s pretending he doesn’t have a searing blush. If he’s got an inkling this could be you… then he might have proof for the non-believers that god exists.

‘yes!!! are you here?? i should come see you.’

‘I hate to disappoint you, but I’m currently at a friend's house playing a Mario Kart drinking game.’

“But it’s nice to know that you’d give me your identity that quick.’

‘oh i can tell you who i am.’ Peter frowns at the text, he’s been doing nothing but crave the answer to who’s behind the love letters but it feels wrong. It’s not satisfactory enough for him, it’s also not what you want, you’re just drunk- and Peter’s going out on a limb here- horny.

‘Save it for later.’

‘And maybe drink some water.’

‘i’d do anything for you cause you have the world's prettiest brown eyes’

‘Thank you for the compliments.’

‘you’re super welcome i try to hold them back because i’m a good girl but you’re just so cute i had to let you know’

‘I think you’re going to super regret this in the morning.’

‘false. maybe fact idk’

‘i should trust you tho because you’re super smart and you’re a nerd.’

‘I fear this is taking a turn for the worse.’

‘and that is so fucking HOT’

‘Oh. Back to compliments. Thank you.’

‘if you were here i’d give you a kiss’

‘IGNORE THAT!!!!’

‘I DIDN’T MEAN TO SEND THAT!!!! IGNORE IT’

‘Not ignored. How cute.’

‘screaming crying throwing up’

‘i really didn’t mean to send that it was a joke ha ha funny.’

‘Idk, sounded authentic to me.’

‘peter?’

‘Yeah?’

‘i’m a little drunk rn. and you should know how cute you are.’

‘Oh, I’m talking about record breaking levels of regret. This is amazing.’

‘i have to pee but i do not reget this!!!!!!’

SATURDAY: 09:54

‘i stand by my claim and do not regret a thing.’

‘correction. i regret this hangover and the way my previous texts are not very cool girl of me.’

‘but i would like to know if you won mario last night.’

‘also, who’s ur fav character?’

11:12

1. Proud of you for owning it, that’s very cool girl of you.

2. I did not win.

3. Petey Piranha.

‘who tf is petey piranha.’

‘Mario Kart Sunshine. Came out in 2002. (Originally on GameCube but recently released on switch.) (Hell yeah.)’

Your heart thumps, he’s such a nerd and you wanna kiss the air out of his lungs. ‘out of all the characters and u choose him. why petey piranha’

‘One guess.’

‘PETEY PIRANHA.’

‘OH MY GOD.’

‘you’re petey piranha <333’

Peter fights a grin, ‘I am.’

‘you’re so cute. i love that.’

‘Personally, in the past 24 hours I don’t think I’ve heard enough about how cute I am.’

‘you’re insufferable and it’s sexy.’

‘Oo, new one to the mix. You’re making me blush.’ You really are. He’s never been considered sexy before and it feels really nice.

‘and i bet you look super cute.’

‘Super true.’

TUESDAY: 12:34

‘white t shirt white t shirt white t shirt WHITE T SHIRT.’

‘You like?’

‘i’m about to cry i’m biting my fist so fucking hard.’

‘:)’

‘you’re so ubuibabeyia.’

‘Bless you.’

‘?’

‘Sorry, I assumed you sneezed.’ Peter never whipped his head around so fast at an audible laugh behind him. It was short, it had escaped without being thought about. He’s looking for you, but it doesn’t seem like it was you who laughed. You’re engrossed in chatting to your neighbor.

On the other hand, you almost blew it by clasping your hands over your mouth. Instead you looked next to you and said, directly and with a burning gaze, “I need you to pretend we’ve been talking this whole time.”

‘Someone’s losing their edge, you’re just begging to be caught.’

‘oh, i’m begging all right.’

‘can you hear me whimpering too?’

‘Easy, killer. Let’s not start sexting at noon on a Tuesday.’

‘are you saying there is a time for it?’

‘Give me a little wave and we’ll see.’

‘too late, i’m passed out on the floor. the only thing that can resuscitate me are those thick arms wrapped around me.’

‘Let these strong arms sweep you off your feet, all you gotta do is come talk to me after lecture…’

Peter says that, but he doesn’t mean it. He’ll definitely eat his words when he sees it’s you, then he’d be coming up with a thousand ways to back out of it. He’s so much more than you deserve, you feel so safe behind a keyboard but in person you can barely say a sentence.

It’s stupid and a little humbling because you’ve never felt this way about a guy before.

‘trust me, i’m better in your imagination.’

WEDNESDAY: 14:22

‘Peter-

You know a little about a lot and I think that is one of my favorite things about you. Or maybe it’s your voice. I could listen to you talk forever.

-Your not so secret admirer, X’

A note under his textbook, if he follows his hunch then he’d be looking for… you. Conveniently three tables away and to the right of his own, you’re not looking for his reaction, you’ve got your focus on your own textbook but he swears you’re retaining none of it. It’s a distraction, or maybe it’s a diversion.

Peter doesn’t mind. He’s going to wait. He has all the time in the world today and he’s going to sit here with his eyes on you until you look up at him because he knows you’re going to and once you do, he’s going to have his answer.

If he’s right, and he swears he is, he’s going to absolutely lose is shit because what do you mean you like him and are intimidated? You boldly lied when you said you were punching above your weight class. Does it make him a jerk to say he wasn’t even thinking of you as a suitor and maybe a girl with a much more average look?

Peter counted to sixty twice, you glance up, eyes shooting to the note you left on the table. The next stop, Peter’s face. And oh, you were not prepared to have him looking right back. Panic, you shoot a wave, a desperate attempt to pretend you’re seeing a familiar face.

Peter waves back but he looks much more satisfied than you did, you wonder if the jig is up. Did he crack the code? Was he just trying to find a friendly way to let you down? Deny til death, he has no proof it’s you. You pack your things up, a hurried scramble before you could lose your cool.

On the way out you almost stop breathing, your forearm caught in Peter’s hand. You’re staring down at it, he’s not removing it. It burns in the best way. “Hey,” you wait, you can’t stop looking at his hand, the muscle, the subtle flex, his fingertips paler to show his grip. “Hi, Peter.”

It’s breathless, you think you’re about to die. If he asks, you don’t know how you’ll lie your way out.

Guess who’s got a stained pocket? The corner edge darkened with black ink that would never be washed out. Peter has his answer. You’re her. You’re X. “Thanks again for the tea.”

Maybe you wanted more, you feel a bit deflated when it’s all you receive.

“You’re welcome.” Your arm feels cold when he drops his touch, you linger for a second too long, you’re not sure when you’ll be this brave again. It was too much of a close call. “I hope the rest of your day is good.”

Peter’s got a charismatic grin, he feels settled now that he knows you’re the anonymous lover in his life. Even more so when you find yourself shy and reserved in person, it almost makes him giggle to think of the stark changes in confidence.

“You too.” Your body engulfs into flames when your arm is caught again, you’re struggling to keep calm at his boyish smile. “Quick question,” you nod slightly, trying to show zero paranoia for the following words.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

Short circuiting. You see black spots, you think you’re about to pass out. There is only one thing that means, no guy asks that if they weren’t interested in changing that, right?

“No.” It’s anything but graceful. It sounds like you’ve never had a boyfriend before. It makes you sound like you’re scared he asked it.

But, Peter doesn’t take it like that. He smiles wider, like he already knew the answer before he asked it.

THURSDAY: 16:37

A new letter, stuffed under the top handle of his backpack. Peter listened and stopped setting it next to him, in return he was rewarded. He can’t stop the small smile, you make it involuntary at this point. Peter’s never felt so special in his life, a little part of him wants this to never end. But he’d much rather look you in the eyes.

‘Peter-

I had a dream with you in it last night. Don’t worry, you had your clothes on. I’m not sure what we were doing but you were across from me at a diner and we were sitting in those super thick booths and our friends were there.

I don’t know who these friends were, and I don’t think you do either. But I knew them as our friends.

It felt really nice. I’m happy to know you, even if I just get this little piece.

-Your not so secret admirer, X’

Peter’s been wrong a lot in his life but this time he really thinks he has it figured out. He’s much more bold now, this letter tells him it’s not infatuation, it’s love.

You love him and he thinks he could love you too.

FRIDAY: 20:08

‘Hey.’ Peter could be making the worst decision of his life here, he could be reading everything wrong and ruining this for himself.

‘hi peter!’ But he really thinks he’s got it right.

‘I really, really liked talking to you for the past few weeks but I think I should tell you that I like someone else.’

Gut wrenching despair. You knew it was too good to last, you knew he’d find someone more in his league. Someone who’d be willing to show him their face. There was no reason to respond because what would you say to that?

‘thank you for letting me know that opening up to you was all for nothing!’

‘thanks for making me doubt love!’

‘hope you and her are so fucking happy together!!!!!’

Fuck it all and fuck Peter. He just liked the attention until it came from somewhere else. You don’t think you like him all that much anymore. You think you’re lying, too. Before you can give into the desire of hurting him just as bad, you calmly turn the phone off and stuff it in the back of a desk drawer to never be uncovered again.

You slowly sit in bed and tug the blankets over your head. And only then, do you allow yourself to sob.

Peter chewed on his bottom lip and waited an hour with constant phone checks before he realized a response was never coming. It really set in during the weekend but even further when he got no note or letter on monday. Not even when he left his backpack unattended for five minutes.

TUESDAY -he was able to see you and how you avoided his eyes. How you pretended you didn’t see him send a small wave. How you had pulled back from him.

And if he hadn’t hurt your feelings, or X’s feelings, why would you do that?

You look up at a two fingered knock at the corner of your desk. “Hi.” You blink and ignore the white noise buzzing in your ears at the sight of Peter standing in front of you. “Hi, Peter.”

“How was your weekend?” Bitter. Terrible. Lonely.

“Fine. Nothing exciting.” Besides you breaking my heart.

Watching his fingertips dance on the edge of the plastic, you feel everything in you brighten. “You look sad.” There’s a burn in your stomach, he’s the reason for both the sting and the sadness.

“Do you need something? Or are you just doing a friendly check in?” Peter bites back the grin when you snap at him, he’s so, so, so right and it feels so, so, so good. “Neither. I’m just confirming my suspicions.”

“Suspicions?”

“Yeah. You passed.” Your eyebrows furrow, before you could try to question further Peter was giving half a wave, saying bye, and skipping a step to his aisle.

FRIDAY: 12:08

You stop breathing for a solid second before feeling your brain spark back to life. It could be anything, it could be from anyone, but you know there’s only one person who would’ve left a note on your desk.

Your fingers slightly shake when you unfold the graph paper, little squares bled through with black sharpie.

‘X-

Am I right?

Hopefully,

- Peter’

You can’t breathe, you can’t talk, you can’t move and you definitely can fucking not look at him. No, no, no. You can feel his eyes on you, you know he’s watching for your reaction. Peter figured you out and had his own fun along the way.

You were the girl he liked. Oh, wow. Is this how special you’ve made him feel? Something just for your eyes, from him. A secret you both shared between lines.

You spin and swear you can feel his gaze running over your back, he’s aching for the answer. You almost scream at a tap on your shoulder, a peek lets you know it’s the person you’re hiding from.

Another note, folded up just like the other one. It’s pushed into your hand, Peter doesn’t say a word, he just offers and leaves. He’s not watching this time, he’s sitting and focused on the front, you feel air leak back into your lungs.

Full on panic shaking, you’re so happy he’s not watching.

Your name is addressed on the front, just like you do for him.

‘I like you.

I think you not so secretly like me too.

We could talk more about it at dinner tonight. Will you let me take you out?

Circle yes or no.

- Peter.

PS. XOXOXO now you’re responsible for mine, too.’

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker blurb #my writing

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