#You are all very special to me and I appreciate every note I get

[anti-dazai-blog]

In honor of this blog’s One Year Anniversary, here are my top 3 BSD theories (in order of most to least likely)

[spoilers for the current arc of the manga]

Theory 1– Albert Camus, the author of The Stranger, will show up within the next few chapters.

Look, we’ve been in Meursault for a while now. We’re all in agreement that Meursault is named after Meursault, the protagonist of The Stranger, right? 

I’ll take this theory a step further and say that Camus will use his ability to restore Meursault to its original (undamaged) state. It’s very impractical to have security measures that destroy large portions of the prison, unless, of course, the prison can be restored quickly and easily. 

Additionally, it doesn’t seem like it would be too much of a stretch to say that by restoring the prison, Camus can fix the elevator Dazai is currently stuck in and falling to his (improbable) death. We have seen abilities being able to work so long as they’re surrounding Dazai without touching him directly (as seen when Nikolai teleported him out of his cell, and in the 15 Light Novel when Rimbaud extended his ability underneath the ground so that Dazai wouldn’t be touching it). Either way, we know there’s no way Dazai is dying in an elevator crash, and I’d really like to see a Camus Ex Machina.

Theory 2– Higuchi’s ability.

I’ve seen a lot of theories floating around regarding what Higuchi’s ability might be. Although most of them are really good, I personally think a lot of them are too powerful to make sense to introduce this late into the story. There would have to be solid justification for why Higuchi doesn’t use it in battle, or why she isn’t sent out to fight the more dangerous enemies of the series. 

However, Higuchi’s primary job is combative, and although I’m not entirely sure what her job is, she seems to be higher ranking than the Black Lizard, and she’s able to give them orders. So her ability is most likely something that would be helpful in combat. 

Which is why I’ve reached my theory that Higuchi’s ability is Pain Nullification. 

Pain is a very important sensory response because it lets you know you’ve been injured and you should be careful. Many wounds are survivable so long as you treat them soon enough and don’t aggravate them more after receiving them. But what if you weren’t aware that you got injured in the first place? What if you kept fighting with stab and bullet wounds? You’d most likely bleed out quickly, and although you might not die (depending on how severe the wounds are), you would at least pass out. 

[the following paragraph has facts taken from a bunch of google articles, so most of it is semi-plagiarized, I am not smart enough to know any of this off the top of my head] 

There are people born with the condition called CIPA (Congenital insensitivity to pain and anhydrosis) which prevents them from feeling pain. Most people born with this condition do not live past the age of three, and half of them die from overheating. If the body cannot sense heat, it will not be able to produce sweat to combat the heat. In short: it is very, very dangerous to be unable to feel pain.

She may also be able to use her ability on herself and her comrades in moderation, to help them fight— furthermore, it makes sense that she'd be paired with Akutagawa, given that she could make his lung condition more manageable. Since there is nothing to be done about it, it will not aggravate it further if she nullifies the pain.

Theory 3– The surgeries on the Hunting Dogs are a lie.

[note that I am not up-to-date with the manga, and all the information I have for this is from Tumblr and the Wikipedia pages for all characters involved]

Yeah look this one’s gonna be short because I’m not sure if it makes any sense. But. Hear me out. 

You’re telling me there’s a group of overpowered Ability users, whose abilities and physical bodies are enhanced far beyond any normal person… and they’re led by a guy whose ability is to enhance his weapons far beyond any normal weapon? Really? And I’m not supposed to believe that he’s just enhancing them?

 My guy here definitely seemed like the type to view the fancy government ability users he’s in charge of as weapons. C’mon. What do you mean he’s not enhancing them. This is a genuine question I’m so lost on this. If anyone wants to explain this to me. I’m open to here whatever explanation the manga gives. 

[leeechin]

ཊ˃̵ ⑅ ཉ little lamb [sim jaeyun] 𓈒ིུ𖥨᩠ׄ݁

⋆ summary: you meet a man in the middle of the night, so charming and so alluring.. but something about this man seems so.. dangerous. ━╋ pairing: killer!jake x fem!reader. (horror au)

⌗ warnings: reader is very naive, jake is a murderer in this omg. blood, weapons such as a knife & crow bar, etc but not used on reader. horror and thriller au please read with caution. mdni. smut. pwp, inexperienced reader, dom!jake, size kink bcuz i can’t not write bigdick!jake agenda, dark jokes/humor (?), unprotected sex, oral (f&m rec), fingering, multiple positions (2 smut scenes lol), dacryphillia, car sex, motel room sex, rough sex. yandere jake (?), mention of god once, mentions of murder with descriptions.

word count: 6.3k

⪩⪨ lee’s note: i’ve never written something like this before so pls bare with me if it’s bad 😣 enjoy the halloween special :D ur thoughts are appreciated as always <3

★ find my other works here + post queue

“Don’t go wandering ‘round a time like this.” The police officer warns you. “I’d be very devastated to see another report of another young individual being murdered in the streets this late at night.” There had been a recent report of a murder happening to a student your age in town. Around a time like this, a lot of crimes occurred, and you couldn’t avoid it since it was local.. near you.

You insisted to your friends that you were ‘okay’ to get home by yourself after the gathering you had at a nearby club. Luckily, that officer caught you at the right time to warn you and escort you back home safely.

“I hope I don’t see you out this late when I’m patrollin’ the area again.” The officer speaks to you once at the entrance of your apartment. The area you lived in wasn’t too bad, with a locked and secured apartment building. But there were always crimes that occurred; robberies, stabbings, theft, etc. Murder was not a common thing on your street. Bidding you a good bye, you enter the code to get inside the apartment building.

As the elevator door opens, you lock eyes with a man holding a big black duffle bag, walking out of the building in a rush. He was beautiful. The way that man stood with confidence radiating all over his body, and that small smirk he threw at you when you scanned his figure. But the left side of his cheek had a scratch and mark with what is now dried blood. You wanted to know more about this man. You should’ve found his presence suspicious, but you dazedly ignored it. Your apartment was small where everybody on every floor level knew each other, and yet you’ve never seen this man before. That was a warning itself you once again ignored.

Following his path, but slowly, you see him walk into a dimly lighted alley. Seeing a slightly dented, dull colored white car, the man opens the trunk as you see this all unwinding as you get closer. You walk your steps lightly with curiosity plastered all over your face. He opens the trunk, and an item falls out of his bag, a blood covered silver metal crow bar. Your eyes widen, you can’t move. Or you don’t want to. You find yourself standing a good arms reach behind the man, your conscious screaming at you to ‘run run run!’ but all of that is ignored when the man turns to you, another smirk tugging on his face when he sees it’s you. “You know.. you shouldn’t be out here this late doll, especially when you’re wearing this cute little outfit with such a pretty face.” He speaks.

You don’t respond, instead your gaze is still fixed on the crow bar that was in his hand. He finds it amusing, by now, a normal person would’ve ran away. But you stand there, completely still. He doesn’t see fear in your eyes. You were entranced by him, a few seconds of eye contact and here you were; a dimly lighted alley with who knows what could happen to you, many things.

He decides to speak again, his eyes not hiding his predatory gaze and scan of your figure, deliberately checking you out.

“What brings your pretty face here this late of a night—?” Dropping the crow bar back into his duffle bag, zipping it up and closing his trunk. He wipes the blood on his face with the back of his hand, leaning against his trunk, hands going in the pocket of his jacket as he waits for you speak up with an answer. His smirk never leaves his face, chewing on a piece of mint gum obnoxiously.

“I don’t know.” You voice soft, eyes looking down at his worn out shoes. The man lets out a loud laugh, walking towards you, hands still in his pocket, as taller figure leans over you, looking at you as if he was gonna eat you up alive. “You shouldn’t be wandering around here so late at night. Any predator would’ve gotten you as their prey by now, little lamb.” You jump at his words a bit, riiight. You now remember the warning that cop gave to you, but you can’t help but say what comes out your mouth. “You don’t happen to be a murderer.. Do you—?"

Another loud laugh leaves the man’s mouth. No way you really just asked him a question like that. The answer was obviously yes. But he wouldn’t say that out loud, “Those were just props, doll. You would’ve been dead by now if I was a murderer.” You let out a sigh of relief. It was so sad to him at how easily you can believe lies.

No response from you once again, “The name’s Sim Jaeyun. Jake or Jaeyun, whatever you want pretty.” He winks at you, one hand moving out of his pocket, you don’t flinch or feel fear still. Allowing him to move strands of your hair behind your ear. You easily melt into the touch of this stranger man’s hand. “Jaeyun.” You repeat, the irises in his eyes darken at the way you said his name, hand moving to hold the side of your cheek.

“I’m Y/n.”, Introducing yourself, his hand moving away from you and going back in his pocket. Jaeyun wasn’t going to kill you.. He wanted you. “And what are you still doing here, Y/n?” Jaeyun’s voice deep and filled with fake curiosity. You don’t know what had gotten into you, you felt bold, you wanted to be out there more. “I want to get to know you..” Straightening yourself up, fixing your skirt that was slightly rising up. “Get to know me? Huh. How interesting..” Jaeyun chuckles again.

“Well I feel the same way too, sweetheart.” He adds on. You smile, so unknowing of all the things this man has done prior to now. “Why don’t I take you for a little drive —? I have a spot I’ve never shown anybody before.”

The word ‘No’ should’ve came out of your lips, but instead you quickly nodded, taking in his offer of being in his passengers seat.

“Is this spot in the middle of a forest..” Your voice fades as you notice how for the past five minutes, Jaeyun is driving down a dark path with nothing but trees. You thought you must’ve been the funniest person in the world, because with almost anything you said to Jaeyun, he would laugh at you. But it wasn’t that, it was the fact you were so gullible. “Trust me darlin’. We’re almost there.” He reassured you, a hand resting on your thigh.

Jaeyun wasn’t going to harm you. And that was a hidden promise he kept in his head to himself. He couldn’t stand the thought of there being a single scratch on you.

“So what is this spot, Jaeyun—?” Your eyes light up at the view of a huge field of grass by a small lake. Getting out of the passengers seat, you grab Jaeyun’s hand, walking along the grass, you were practically skipping. “This place is somewhere I get all of my things done.” He replies to you. You fidget with the bottom hem of your skirt as you’re reminded of his black duffel bag and the crow bar with blood on it. It was as if he could read your mind, “Nothing’s bad going to happen to you , Y/n.” He brushes off your doubt, the way your name effortlessly rolled out of his lips made you feel weak in the knees.

He was right, you both just simply sat in the blades of grass that went on for miles, talking about yourselves, getting to know each other; “I’ve always wanted to someone this special place of mine.” Jaeyun’s face was happy with content, now that what he said has finally happening, relaxing his back flat on the grass.

Admiring the view of the lake, and the man himself, “It’s such a beautiful place here, Jaeyun..” There goes your soft voice again, and your eyes of adoration. Jaeyun felt like he could become a mad man by any minute now, he felt the desire to keep you close to him, and he wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

That’s how you found yourself straddling his lap on the drivers’ seat of his car. His lips devouring yours, claiming you as his. You whine against his lips when you feel one of his hands move down to cup at your clothed heat. You hear him let out a deep chuckle as he pulls his lips away, leaving you to feel confused.

Realization hits you like a truck. You were about to sleep with a man you barely know. Despite feeling a deep connection and attachment to Jaeyun, you don’t fully know who he is at all.. Or what he does, despite talking for a couple hours by on the field of grass. “Something on your mind?” Jaeyun hums, his lips trailing along the soft skin of your neck, harshly sucking and marking dark purples spots that can be seen by others.

“Wait Jaeyun—!” You pull yourself away from him. “Hm?” — “What if someone sees us?” Hesitation in your voice at the idea of that. It’s not like you a virgin by any means.. You just haven’t had sex many times. And especially not at a place where people could see you, even if Jaeyun’s windows were tinted. “Doll. Only murderers would be at a spot like this, late at night. But no one’s here. And it’s just you and me.” Jaeyun coos.

You felt weirdly comforted by his words. Easing into his touch, placing your lips over his, it’s much rougher this time, his tongue dances his way into your mouth, it was so sloppy as the smacking sounds filled Jaeyun’s car. “Want more Jaeyun..” You pant, the sound of Jaeyun ripping your panties apart filling your ears. Gasping as your arms wrap around his neck, falling forward slightly as he handles you to where he wants.

“You want me to show you what’s in my disgusting, twisted mind? To ruin you and keep you to myself? Because baby, once I do all that, you can’t leave me.” He warns you, allowing you to rethink your doubts. But you want it all. You don’t care that you’ve met this man a few hours ago, an unknown man in your highly secured apartment, and how it’s 2:37 am in the middle of the night. You wanted to do something for yourself for once, even if deep down, you knew there had to be more to Jaeyun, he doesn’t seem anything like a saint.

You nod rapidly, “Give it all to me Jaeyun. Show me your world.” Your response makes Jaeyun let out a deep laugh at how easy it was to convince you with his words. But, he wasn’t lying in anything he said, Jaeyun was going to make sure you stay by his side, forever. You were easy to read, you were the type of girl that had loyalty painted all over her face. You needed someone to lead you in life, Jaeyun was the perfect person to do that for you. He wouldn’t lay a single hand on you.

“Have you done something like this before?” Jaeyun raises an eyebrow at you, his cold digits tracing along your folds, collecting your wetness making your breath hitch at the contact. “Only a few times.. and not anywhere outside either.” You admit, eyes shying away from his. Jaeyun’s free hand pulls up your chin to look at him again, “Was he good—?” Jaeyun’s eyes darken at the thought of there being another man before him.

“Mmph—! No! Not really—!” You shriek to reply when you feel one of his fingers plunge into your tight cunt, the warmness of your gummy walls clamping around his singular digit making the cold leave his skin. “Can barely take one finger..” He comments, fingers finding a pace comfortable for you. He adds a second finger in, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll show you what it feels like to be fucked reaaaal good you’ll forget about all of the other times and only remember me.” Emphasizing that one word.

“S’ so good Jaeyun!” You cry out, nails digging into his shirt covered shoulders, the pain giving pleasure to him. You feel him quicken his pace, his thick fingers dragging along your tight warm walls, already having your head spinning and seeing the clouds. “Taking it like such a good girl..” He smiles, feeling his bulge strain through the tight confinements of his boxers and jeans at the sounds that left your lips. You tighten around his digits impossibly tighter when his thumb finds its way to rub at your clit, a sensation you’ve never really experienced before, and you surely want to feel this again.

“Feels good huh—?” Jaeyun asks, a smirk ghosting over his face at the sight of tears rolling down your face. Nothing but pure pleasure coursing through your entire body, and he hasn’t even stuck his dick into you yet. “You’ll always be mine.” Possessiveness filling his tone as he scissors and twists his digits, a whimper leaving your lips at the feeling of pure ecstasy, burying your face into the crook of Jaeyun’s neck to conceal your sounds.

“Don’t hide those pretty sounds from me.” He growls, the free hand that placed on your waist moving to tug at your hair, pulling your face away from his neck. “M’ close Jaeyun please—!” You plead, rolling your hips slightly, feeling his fingertips hit right at that one spot so good.

“Let go for me, darlin’. Show me how good I make you feel.” That was a demand that you didn’t mind to follow; body shaking slightly as you calm from the intensity of your orgasm; body flopping against Jaeyun’s chest. Tapping the side of your exposed thigh, pulling your skirt up; “Don’t get all tired on me doll. I’m not done with you yet.” You sit up, pulling your shirt over your head to leave you only in your bra, tits spilling out of the cups.

Jaeyun curses at the sight, hand moving to the back of your bra, unhooking it effortlessly and tossing it to the passenger seat. “So fuckin’ perfect.” He comments, hands moving to fondle with your sensitive tits, thumbs rubbing roughly over the erected nubs, making you few new sensations, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted the real thing, the million dollar prize, his cock inside you.

It was as if he read your mind, his hands leave your tits, making you let out a needy whine with no more contact on your body. Jaeyun tsks at your desperation, hands unbuckling his belt and pulling down his boxers along his pants. You freeze in place, thick cock shiny in glory in the poorly dim lighted car. Pink mushroom tip throbbing angrily, precum oozing out and down along his length.

Jaeyun just really can’t help but laugh at you. He was a predator engrossed into his prey, the way your eyes had a slight sparkle from the moment you locked eyes with him, to now; Eyes blinking nervously at the sheer size of him. “You can take me, can’t you, doll—?” Jaeyun asks, noticing the subtle shift of your gaze, as you slowly nod.

He moves his arms to rest behind his head, leaning back on the drivers seat, giving you a glance to make a move. “Jaeyun..” — “What’s on your mind doll—?” You take a deep breath, hands resting on his chest, “I’ve never really done this..” You feel embarrassed again, but your eyes don’t leave Jaeyun’s this time. “I know, baby. I just wanted to see if you could do it yourself.” “Can’t do it without your help, Jaeyun.” You frown, hand moving down to grip at his thick length, your hand not being able to fully wrap around it. Jaeyun hisses at the contact. Moving his hands to move your loose strands of hair behind your ear, he places a soft kiss on your forehead, brushing the side of your face. “I got you, doll.”

Holding your hips to hover your sopping cunt directly over his mushroom tip, your hands holding onto his shoulders for dear life. His placement on your hips allows him to circle your entrance over his tip, collecting your wetness with dripping along his thick length. You look down, not sure if you’re gonna be actually able to take it.

“Oh shiiit—! You’re still so much fuckin’ tighter than what I thought.” A long groan leaves Jaeyun’s mouth as he slowly pumps his cock into you, you feel every ridge and vein rubbing against your silky walls, bottoming out eventually. Fresh batches of tears cloud your vision as you’ve never felt anything this big stuffed into you, and Jaeyun was definitely bigger than that ex of yours that went down on you in the past. “S’ so big.” You whimper out, burying your face into Jaeyun’s neck and moaning against his soft skin. You could feel his tip prodding so deep inside you along with the slow strokes he gave you.

The first few thrusts he gave you were soft and tender, but Jaeyun reminded himself that he wanted to ruin you, to show you what it’s like to actually feel good from him only. “Oh goddd—!” You moan out when Jaeyun thrusts his hips up harsher, feeling him in your stomach as a small bulge is poking through your gentle skin.

“I’m far from being god, doll.” Jaeyun smirks, knowing he could quite literally be the devil. “Scream my name. Who’s the one making you feel like this.” He grins at your disheveled figure, desperately holding onto his shoulders as if you’re afraid to crumble and break apart. You’ve never felt like this before, his hips pistoning in and out of you at such a animalistic pace, you’re not sure if you could last longer, and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself by cumming too quickly. Screams of you saying Jaeyun’s name rings in his ear, he is overly joyed with your state.

He handles you like a rag doll. Hands on your hips, pulling you and down along his thick length, a white ring forming on his cock as you cream and convulse around him, feeling your orgasm approaching soon. “You close, doll—?” He asks, teeth nipping one of your ears. A mantra of yes’ leaving your mouth along with your heavy pants as you pathetically attempt to move your hips to meet his movements. The sound of your soft shrieks along with Jaeyun’s harsh grunts filled the car.

His movements not stopping or changing as you allow the coil in your stomach to snap, coating his cock in your creamy white essence, sobs leaving your mouth as you ride out your orgasm.

“Hold it out a little longer f’me doll.” You dive headfirst into overstimulation, Jaeyun continuously bucking his hips up to chase his own orgasm, hips stilling as he shoots thick strings of his cum deep into you. Resting his forehead over yours as you both take a moment to catch your breath. “Did so good for me.” Jaeyun sighs, pulling you off of him, leaving you now empty.

Jaeyun helps you put your clothes back on, but you have no panties. You frown, feeling his cum drip down your thighs. “Are you on the pill—?” You nod yes. Jaeyun sighs in relief, he couldn’t hold himself back today, pulling you back in for a kiss, a string of saliva connecting to the two of you when he pulls away.

“Jaeyun. How am I going to go back to my apartment with no panties..” You did not want the other residents to see Jaeyun’s seed drooling down your legs.

“You just keep your legs closed.” He laughs, spinning the ruined piece of article around his finger.

A week has gone by. There’s a pattern you start to notice. You only saw Jaeyun as soon at it hits dark, the familiar car parking at the alley across your apartment building. You never see him during the daytime.. And you still don’t know a lot about him. You’re drawn to him like a magnet, your friends don’t understand you at all.

“It sounds suspicious Y/n, I don’t know. You only see him at night?” Belle tells you, sipping her drink. You and your small circle of friends constantly ignored the warnings on the news for young adults to avoid roaming the streets past 8:00pm. All of your figured since there were a couple guys in the group, you guys would be safe.

“You don’t understand.” That’s what you say everytime any of your friends would comment on whenever you talked about Jaeyun to them. You felt frustrated, but they were only looking out for you, and you didn’t realize that. “We care about you, Y/n. But, it’s just the fact you’ve never seen this man in broad daylight..” Sungchan says, carefully picking his choice of words.

You guys were wrapping up this gathering to go home. Julie suggests Sungchan to walk you home as there had been an increase of stabbing reports happening around your street, double of the usual numbers. You accept the offer, since after all, Sungchan was only a friend to you..

“Are you sure you don’t need me to go up with you..?” Sungchan double checks, there are no other people around the area, and the cops are making their rounds at the neighboring streets. You nod, because you knew that Jaeyun would be here around this time and he would be the one protecting you incase anything happened.

“Alright then.” Sungchan waves a goodbye, hands in his pockets as he walks across. You turn, away, pressing the security code to enter the building.

What was not known is that Jaeyun is watching from afar, his blood boiled to see another man so close to you. He felt a primitive instinct to do something.

Your ears ring when you hear a familiar shout so loud, as if that person was pleading for help, you’re quick to turn, the security code to the apartment only having half of the numbers entered. Your hand flies to cover your mouth in shock at the sight across you; watching your own friend slowly fall to the ground, a knife lodged straight into his heart, pushing through his chest.

Whoever wanted to kill him, was quick to do it. Because there were no traits, and Sungchan couldn’t have been the one to stab himself. But Jaeyun happened to walk out, and Jaeyun just happened to be taking off black latex gloves and a mask and scanning the surroundings around him, not even amused at the fact there was a now dead body near his feet. Jaeyun simply just brushes it off and grins widely when he sees you across the alley. It was clearly also him who did that to Sungchan, and possibly Mr. Han on the fourth level, who had been actively trying to pursue you. It wasn’t a coincidence.

Tears flowed past your eyes as you froze. You were nonverbal as you simply started to sob into the killer’s arm. And you still weren’t convinced that Jaeyun did it, though the facts were so obvious. “Shhhh. Luckily I came here just in time to be here for you, doll.”

“He just— He— What if he walked up with me..” You cried, tearing soaking onto Jaeyun’s shirt. “You can’t control what happens to people, doll. I’m lucky that nothing happened to you.” Jaeyun responds, a smirk creeping up inside of his head knowing that he has you wrapped around his finger.

“Why are we going out of town—?” You ask Jaeyun, looking out of the windows of his car a couple hours later. You packed a mini suitcase with some clothes as Jaeyun instructed, telling you he wanted to take you to a place to spend some ‘quality time’ for the weekend.

It should’ve been alarming to you that you guys were practically in the middle of nowhere. “Doesn’t it feel so suffocating to be in such a busy city, surrounded by so many people sometimes?” His hand that was resting on the top of your thighs dragging over. It was pitch black, the headlights of his car being the only thing lighting up the road. “It’s just.. I only see you when it’s late at night. How come you never come to see me during the daytime?” Jaeyun sighs, speeding up the car a bit, jaw clenching tightly. You notice the way his jaw loosens once he turns around to glance at you adoringly.

“I’m a busy man, doll. But I always make time for you, don’t I?” Lies continue to pour out of his mouth, yet you never caught onto any of them, simply abiding anything he initiates without questioning.

There’s a radio in the run down motel room. The building is so outdated, it’s quite baffling how such a beat down place is still running. You don’t mind how shabby it is.

'Unsolved Murders in Seoul that are believed to be connected to each other-' Jaeyun shuts off the radio.

“That’s ridiculous.” He laughs, walking towards your figure that was standing where the radio was playing. “You’re so pretty.” Jaeyun mumbles, watching as tears pulled at your eyes, the radio reminding you of how you witnessed your friend slowly dying, and you did nothing.

The image still played in your head, how the blood on his wound oozed out, his weak pleas for help. And all you did was stood there frozen until you saw Jaeyun.

“Still thinking about earlier?” Jaeyun asks, fingers swiping the tears that poured down your cheeks. He was fake sympathizing with you, he didn’t actually care that you lost one of your closest friends, because he was the one that did it, and you’re blatantly choosing right now, to ignore all of the obvious keys.

“What if instead, I called for help? He probably would still be alive right now. And that’s all my fault. ” You stammer, body jumping as you felt Jaeyun’s large hands roam around your body, grasping at your breast through the thin material of his oversized t-shirt you were going to wear to bed, eventually pulling it off your body. “It would’ve been you dead instead. And I wouldn’t want it to be that way. I love you.”

Love? You’ve barely known Jaeyun for a good two to three weeks and yet you feel your heart swirl at the use of that word. You were sure you felt the same way he did. He held a possessive nature you couldn’t quite get a grasp on, but he gave you what you wanted. You were weak to his actions, there was no way he wasn’t the one who killed Sungchan, or was at least suspicious.

“I love you too..” You whispered, lower lip get caught between your teeth when Jaeyun places his lips over the soft skin of your neck, arms wrapping around your waist from behind. “Let me make you feel better. Make you forget all that guilt you have in your head.” He mumbles.

Turning you around, you stand on your tip-toes to place your lips over his, Jaeyun hungrily gaining control and devouring your lips, tongue licking up into your mouth, tangling along with your tongue. You whine against his lips feeling him bite your lower lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but it was rough enough for a reaction.

“So needy.” He laughs, watching the way your hands traveled under his shirt, attempting to pull it off over his head. He pushes your shoulder down, indicating what he wants you to do. You feel so tainted at how quick you were to sink to your knees, eyes looking up awaiting.

He had the eyes of a killer, how his eyes turned so dark when he had someone in the control of his hands. “What are you waiting for? It’s not gonna get sucked by itself.” Pulling down his boxers, his hardened cock springs out, tip pink and leaking with arousal. He watched amused as your eyes trailed to his, then back to his large veiny cock. Carefully placing your soft lips to envelop the thick mushroom tip, nasty sucking sounds filling the room as you slowly push your head forward to take in more of him, choking when you feel his tip hit the back of your throat when your a little over halfway. Loud groans leave Jaeyun’s mouth, not hiding the pleasure from you.

“Just like that shit. Let me fuck that cute mouth of yours huh?” You whine around him, nodding in agreement. You were being used like a toy, Jaeyun’s hands placed on both sides of you face as he pushed his hips forward, chasing for his own pleasure and finding satisfaction in the way you just took anything he gave you.

“God I love how nasty you’ve become for me.” He laughs, pulling out briefly to glance at your ruined state. Your eyes red, full of tears. And one of your bra straps falling off your shoulders, along with your hair all messy from Jaeyun’s grip earlier. “Please Yunnie.” You plead, hands pawing his thighs for him to do something about your own arousal that was leaking through your panties.

The way that nickname flew out of your mouth and into his head made Jaeyun a possessed man, gesturing for you to open up your mouth again, you whine but obey. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll give you everything you want after you let me fill up that little mouth of yours.” Slapping his heavy cock on your tongue before thrusting back deep into it, throwing his head back at the warmth of your mouth, and how you sucked his base perfectly.

“I’m gonna cum, fuckkk. Such a good girl.” Jaeyun praises, hips battering sloppily as you feel him twitch in your mouth, filling your throat deep with his release, his cum spilling out the sides of your mouth, Jaeyun brings his thumb to swipe at the cum spilling out the sides of your lips, pushing his thumb in for you to suck. Opening your mouth afterwards to show him you swallowed every drop he gave you. A smile of approval on Jaeyun’s face.

Hovering above you on the bed, your neck is littered in dark purple bruises, soft sighs of content leaving your lips when you feel your breast being freed from the confines of your bra, panties peeling off quickly from Jaeyun’s hand as he kneels to be eye level with your dripping cunt. “Please Jae..” You whimper, fingers lacing through his dark brown hair strands, massaging his head slightly as your hooded eyes looking below your spread legs. You didn’t wait for too long when you feel him lick a fat stripe from your entrance to your clit.

“mmmh—!” You mewl out, nails digging into Jaeyun’s head at your head throws back against the bed’s pillows. Your sounds along with the nastiness of Jaeyun’s tongue darting around your dripping cunt, almost burying his face against it, groaning at your sweet taste as he pushes his tongue past your entrance, the warmness of your walls wrapping around his tongue.

His groaning against your cunt sends vibrations and pleasure travelling all over your body, eyes closing as you try to contain your sounds with the thin walls of the run down motel, feeling Jaeyun’s tongue explore every part of your lower half. Your legs start to clamp around his head tightly, feeling how he held the bottom your thighs to keep your legs spread for him, all exposed.

It was as if he was a starved man, devouring you as if it was his last meal, relishing in your wails and cries of the sensations of his tongue along with the pleasurable pain of your nails digging into his head. You were close, and Jaeyun knew that, bye the way your thighs started to slightly shake around his head, the way your fingers tugged chunks of his hair as you tried to ground yourself as your body gives out, finishing all over his lower face.

Your face tints a soft shade of pink as Jaeyun rises up from his eye level position, your release painted all over his face, watching how he used his backhand to wipe it off and lick it, moaning at your sweet taste.

“You can take more of me right?” He asks as he peels off his remaining clothes, looking at the way you rapidly nodded your head, strings of pleas leaving your lips to feel him on you again. A small place is placed on your lips, tasting yourself against your tongue.

You feel yourself being flipped onto your front, the cold sheets sending shivers over your body as Jaeyun handles you to the position he wants, back arching and presenting your continuously dripping cunt, hole clenching around nothing as you feel his hands travel around your lower half, hands squeezing at the soft flesh of your ass, aligning himself to your entrance and pushing in roughly and fast. “Shiiit. Still so tight.” Jaeyun hisses, allowing you no time to adjust, already setting a rough pace that had him lodged in you deep.

“Jaeyun—! Slower!” You moan, the pleasure of his thick cock already making you feel another orgasm approaching, not wanting to pathetically cum too quickly. Feeling him push against the back of your head into the pillows, not listening to you as his pace fastens, tip hitting your cervix repeatedly as all you could is just lay and take it all.

“You’re enjoying this a little too much.” Jaeyun teases, feeling the way your walls clamped around his thickness with each stroke of his harsh thrusts, wet sounds of his cock repeatedly sliding in and out of you filling the room. Your push your own face harder into the pillows, trying to contain your sounds as Jaeyun’s relentless pace didn’t stop, even as you finished around him for the second time, going into overstimulation as his hips continuously smacked against your thighs.

“More Jaeyun.” You whisper, turning your head slightly, even though you deemed yourself done, a part of you still wanted to take more, feeling yourself being flipped onto your back. God, you were such a sight for Jaeyun. Your doe glossy eyes meeting his darkened irises, silently begging for him to stick his cock back in you.

“Hold your thighs up for me.” He tells you, guiding you to make that happen. You were nearly folded in half, your puffy pussy on display, hole pulsating and begging to suck Jaeyun back in. A loud moan that other guests probably heard leaves your lips as Jaeyun re-enters you, this new position making him hit deeper in your cunt.

“Shitshitshit—!” You cry out, trying to hold yourself up as Jaeyun wanted as he relentlessly jackhammered his cock into you over and over again. He lets out a string of low groans, along with your high-pitched moans, feeling how tight you clenched around him. “Feels good huh?” A smirk plastered on his face as he looks down at the way his cock slid in you so deep, keeping up with his rough and fast place, moving to place one of your legs over his shoulders. Your head lolled to the side, overwhelmed with pleasure seeping into your body.

“M’ gonna cum again ‘Yun.” You whimper, feeling his tip make a small bulge against your stomach as your palm presses down against it. “Hold or f’me a little doll.” He grits his teeth, thrusts becoming more sloppy as he’s only focused on chasing his own release. Holding your hips so tight, you were sure there would be marks by the time you woke up in the morning.

“Good fuckin’ doll.” Jaeyun sighs, thick strings of his cum filling you so deep, as he helps you ride out your orgasm, shuttering around his cock. Your eyes are giving out, feeling Jaeyun crash his body to the open space beside you on the mattress. The darkness in his eyes was gone, only full with what you saw as love and affection. He mumbled another promise to you that had your heart racing naively.

“I will always take care of you, doll. No matter what it takes, I will do anything for you.” And he genuinely meant what he said, even if it took such unorthodox ways to keep you by his side.

The news broadcast on the television plays, the sound of the water running in the bathroom as Jaeyun is taking a shower. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts, lazily standing close to the television as you’re eating breakfast from room service. You’re half paying attention to what the news anchor is saying. But then you pause when you hear Sungchan’s death being mentioned again.

More details are added on, along with blurred footage of Jaeyun’s figure from hours ago, in the exact outfit you ran into him wearing, his face is covered by the mask. But you knew it was him. You couldn’t be naive to this.

Jaeyun is a murderer. And you were on the run with a wanted man that you were in love with.

Your jaw opens, dropping the fork, and eventually the plate with your food, nothing bothering to clean the mess up as you watch the news explaining more detail. You felt so stupid, not even noticing Jaeyun’s presence in the room as you stood there lifelessly trying to process this ‘newfound’ news.

And for once as your eyes meet Jaeyun’s, they’re filled with fear. His pupils dark and filled with wickedness. A sly grin is plastered on his face as he stares at you.

“Well well well, the little lamb has finally realized she’s fallen into the arms of its predator.”

— @00kittenz @pshbites @selleprotection @p4ranormaluv @slutforjaeyun @jaeyunsbimbo @faithnsstuff

note: thank u so much for 460+ followers 🥹🥹!! i appreciate all the support you guys give on my posts 🤧🤧🫶🫶

[nevvdrinksteaa]

PLEASE Spencer answering a work call in the middle of sex??? Super smutty

just wanna say that this is my first request and it makes me feel special so thank you !!! hopefully you like this <3

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: 18+ nsfw smut, porn with small plot, afab reader, fingering, p in v sex, post prison spence, riding, doggy style, and missionary (yall were busy), spitting kink !!, spanking (once?), face slapping (i’m not sorry), slight oral (f receiving), lots of pet names (baby, angel, pretty girl), let me know if i missed anything !!

word count: 1.8k (got a little carried away)

also note to everyone- y’all absolutely devoured my spencer post the other day, a little less than 800 notes last i checked, and i just want to say i was very caught off guard and appreciate it so much !!

+ i apologize for the overuse of commas & very limited vocabulary,, i feel like i used the same 10 words smh

+ NOT PROOF READ !!

~~~

“i was able to talk to the brass about getting the week off. the past few weeks have been tough and i think we all need a well deserved break.”

you were all gathered in the round table room for a meeting emily called. in the past two weeks, the team had been assigned three back to back cases; which meant three different unsubs, three different cities, and three different hotel rooms. you hadn’t slept in your own bed in fifteen days, already feeling giddy at the thought of snuggling up in your bed, binge watching mindless reality tv, and fueling yourself with nothing but sweet treats.

matt was the first to speak, already standing up gathering his things from the table, “as much as i love you all i’m going to rush home to the wife and kids, i miss their little faces”

you all followed suit, collecting all of your belongings and saying your goodbyes, all of you raving about your week off plans. you walked to your desk, grabbing your bag and keys. you walked towards the elevator, pressing the down button, watching it slowly fall from floor 10 to floor 9, before tapping your foot, slightly agitated about how long it seemed to be taking.

you heard footsteps heading your way, small taps on sneakers on the slick marble floor, before felt a slight nudge at your side “you know, being mad at it won’t make it work any faster”

you chuckle looking up, making eye contact with spencer before giving him a small grin. “i’m just really ready to get home.”

the elevator doors open, spencer waved his hand up, allowing you to go first, before following you in and pressing the main lobby button. “you in such a rush because you have a hot date to get to?”

you looked up at him and grinned, you felt spencer’s hand move to your back, rubbing the center in small circles with your thumb. you felt your face get hot and you allowed yourself to slightly lean into his touch. the elevator stopped at the lobby, a small chime signaling the doors opening, and you felt spencer’s hand fall back to his side before you both stepped out of the box.

you both made your way to the parking garage, spencer walking you to your car before he headed towards the station to take the subway. you got to your car, unlocking it and throwing your purse inside before looking up at him with a slight smirk “text me when you’re on your way”

he shook his head and laughed as he gave you a small wave goodbye and headed towards the subway.

~~~

it had only been three days since you were given the week off, enjoying the company of spencer in your bed two thirds of those nights. he texted you the same night as the encounter in the parking garage, eager to see you in a private setting.

“look how pretty you look sitting on my cock”

you were straddling him, your head thrown back with both hands on his shoulders as you tried to keep a quick pace. he had his hands pressed deep into your hips, helping you move in a fluid motion. you felt him hit your sweet spot every time you made your way down, letting out tiny whimpers at the feeling.

“i love when you use me like this, getting yourself off like a good girl”

you couldn’t hold in the loud moan you had been holding, feeling your stomach flutter at his words. you felt a slight burning in your thighs and you knew spencer’s shoulders held tiny crescent shapes from how tight your grip had become. you felt one of spencer’s hands move to your clit, rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves.

he grabbed your chin, making you look him in the eyes. you looked at him and grinned, fucked out and eager before you felt a sudden surge against your cheek before he let his hand rest there, rubbing his thumb to ease the pain.

“you gonna cum for me angel?”

“fuck- yes spence, i’m so- so close” you couldn’t even hear the words coming out of your mouth, your heartbeat beating so loud your hearing going out.

you moved your head down pushing your forehead to spencer’s with your eyes tight.

“cum for me baby, wanna feel you tighten around my cock.”

you felt that tight feeling in your stomach, the mix of his skilled fingers and his thick cock rubbing against your walls caused your breath to stop in your throat, your release making you see stars. you stopped your movement, breathing heavily as you leaned down into spencer. you felt soft kisses on your head and face, peppering you all over.

“did so good for me baby, love watching you use me”

you smiled against his neck, starting to do your own kissing. you felt his breath hitch when you found the sweet spot behind his ear, the small mole behind it always guiding you to the exact spot. you took your time, sucking and biting at the spot, grinding your hips, ready to keep going.

spencer gave your thigh a quick tap, before telling you to bend over. you were quick to roll over, propping yourself up on your hands and knees before slowly wiggling yourself back and forth to him.

you felt a sharp pain on your ass, a slight stinging feeling before you felt a tight grip run through your hair. you felt your body being pulled tightly to his, his chest flushed against your back. he moved one of his hands to your chest, a his fingers glazing your nipple, his other moving to your neck, pushing his thumb and middle finger to just the right spot to apply pressure.

“i let you use me, now it’s my turn to use you angel” spencer had leaned down to your ear, kissing your jaw before pushing you back down onto the bed.

spencer leaned down slightly, gripping your ass with both hands before spreading them. he let a trail of spit fall to your eager hole, before he rubbed it onto your pussy, giving your clit extra attention.

you moaned and pushed back into his touch before you felt him enter you quick and unforgiving, your ass jiggling with every move of his hips.

“fuck- so fucking deep” you arched your back, begging your body to somehow take him deeper. you felt his firm calloused hands rub against your back before settling into a position on your hips, his thumbs pressing small bruises into your skin.

“taking me so fuck-”

spencer’s voice was cut off by his phone ringing, vibrating on the nightstand beside you, and you felt his hips slow down, letting out a soft sigh as he was considering stopping completely.

you felt him hesitate but needed him to keep going, pushing your hips back into his trying to keep both of your focus.

“spence, please don’t stop” your voice still unsteady, “just ignore it”

spencer pulled out of you, and you let out a whine as the loss of contact. you rolled yourself over, making yourself comfortable on the pillows expecting him to walk away to return the call.

instead he leaned back over you and pulled you into a deep kiss, holding your face in both hands. your lips parting slightly when you felt his tongue lick your bottom lip, allowing your tongues to meet.

spencer grabbed his dick, rubbing over your clit before he lined himself up with you, gasping when he pushed himself in.

“you’re so fucking perfect angel”

he pulled away, lifting your legs up to your shoulders and latching his hands to your thighs. he found himself moving slow and deep, like he was trying to memorize the way you felt around him.

you moved your hands to play with your nipples, rolling the hard buds between your finger tips. he bent down, pushing his weight into you, almost like he was folding you. he pooled spit into his mouth before he let it go to your clit, moving his hand to the bundle of nerves.

“want you to cum again for me pretty girl, want one more before i fill you up”

you let out a moan, sighing before you went to speak “gonna fill me-”

you were cut off by the phone ringing again, the buzzing sound making you forget your thoughts. spencer dropped your thighs and leaned over before giving you a quick kiss before he reached over to grab phone.

“spencer do not answer that”

he moved his finger to his lips, making a shushing motion “it’s emily”

you rolled your eyes, ready to kick him out and finish yourself off before heading to bed when you felt him move again. he moved his hand to cover your mouth before answering the phone.

“doctor reid”

you felt yourself get wetter, the sound of your slick filling the room, your moan mumbled behind his hand. spencer’s motion was relentless, his pace quick and brutal, jabbing your sweet spot with every push.

“i thought we were getting the week off”

your leg was lifted up, making the angle even deeper and you felt your eyes roll back, out of pleasure or annoyance you couldn’t tell. there was no way you were getting called in.

“i can get a hold of her for you, i remember her mentioning something about having a date this week”

you grinned, giggling behind his hand before spencer moved the phone to hold it on his shoulder, letting his now free hand to move back down. he never took his eyes off you, holding a shit eating grin as he felt you squeezing him tighter, squirming at how close you were. you furrowed your brows and pinched your eyes shut.

“i’ll be there in an hour”

you heard the phone beep, signaling the call was disconnected. spencer moved his hand away from your mouth down to your neck, cursing as he heard you gasp.

“did so good for me pretty girl”

his hips stopped deep inside you as you felt his cock twitch, filling you up. he groaned as he felt you cumming again, keeping his thumb in place to help your orgasm finish and you let a loud moan out in response. spencer gave you a long kiss, nipping at your bottom lip before he trailed his lips down your neck. he pulled himself out of you, grinning at the soft sigh you let out. he kept his lips on your body, trailing them down your stomach before reaching your thighs and nipping at the sensitive skin.

he moved his tongue and licked a long strip up your pussy, sucking on your clit before pulling up to look at you, shit eating grin on his face. “we’ve got roughly 30 minutes, that’s enough time for me to help you clean up, right angel?”

[mattybsgroupie]

call | matt sturniolo

contents: cursing; established relationship; phone sex; guided masturbation; use of “y/n”; soft dom!matt

- ♡ -

notes: i just realized that i haven’t sexted in months?! (anyone willing to change that?!) so here’s some phone sex with horny matt ♡ thank you SO much for over 900 followers this is insane, i appreciate every like comment reblog and follow so very much! y’all know the deal: not proofread, but have fun with this one! love you guys

- ♡ -

after spending the whole day with my best friends doing a shopping spree, the only thing i wanted after getting home and taking a shower was talking to matt. i displayed all of my new belongings across my bed, carefully taking pictures of each item and sending to him.

after uploading the last one, matt didn’t text. instead, he immediately facetimed me.

“put it on” he said as soon as i picked up, not letting me talk. “i’m serious y/n, put it on”

“it’s for a special occasion” i said, chuckling when he got closer to the screen.

“i gotta see it!” he complained and i turned the camera, showing the stuff i had gotten. i knew he only had eyes for the new lingerie set i bought, a red lace bra and matching panties.

“there, you saw it” i joked, sitting on the bed with my back against the headboard. i positioned my cellphone by the pillow so he could see me as i grabbed the bra, playfully letting it rest on my chest over my sweaters.

“that looks really good” matt said, sighing deeply as he lifted one of his arms to rest behind his head. “but y/n, i think i might die. like, at any second” he spoke and i furrowed my eyebrows.

“what are you talking about, matt?” i giggled as i folded the lace, ready to toss it back on the bag.

“lack of titties” i couldn’t believe he had said that with a straight face. i bursted out laughing and had a peek of his growing smile on the screen, proud to have made a good joke.

“don’t laugh!” he continued with a fake angry tone on his voice. “it’s a serious condition and only you can cure it, but it has to be right now”. i brought my palm up to my face, hiding my eyes as i denied with my head, trying not to laugh again.

“so you want me to put it on? right now?” i asked, showing him the piece again. matt nodded vigorously, pouting his lips.

i rolled my eyes and touched the hem of my sweater, narrowing my eyes as i tried to hide a smile, pretending to tease him. i removed the fabric and threw it over the bed, exposing my bare chest underneath it. matt gasped, left hand now running through his hair as he adjusted himself to sit properly.

i kept on looking at him, widening my eyes as if i said “well, there it is”. matt licked his lips before talking again, “you’re so fucking pretty”

i tilted my head to the side and pulled the scrunchie that held my hair up, letting it fall over my shoulders. just when i was about to grab the bra, matt interrupted me.

“i wanna go there. fuck y/n, can i come over?” he asked, now scratching his beard, ready to get up at any second.

“are you insane?” i hissed through my teeth, grabbing my phone and bringing it closer to my face. “my parents are here!”

“and you’re doing me a strip tease?” he widened his eyes, acting like he was surprised. “such a naughty girl, getting naked with me over the phone when the house is full”

“shut up” i rolled my eyes, praying he’d actually continue. matt’s grin grew wide when he noticed i had bitten my lips and my breath suddenly had gotten faster.

“should i?” he said, lowering his hand to somewhere the camera couldn’t capture. “i bet you like this, hm? showing yourself off like a slut for me”

i adjusted myself in the bed once more, now lying and getting comfortable. matt noticed i had changed positions, “show them to me baby”.

with a heavy sigh in anticipation, i lowered my phone, showing him my breasts. i couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle when he said “fuck”, as if he'd never seen my boobs before.

my nipples were hard, all of matt's teasing about me being naughty for doing this at my parents' house only made me more aroused - and my plan wasn't, in fact, to wear the lingerie tonight. matt's birthday was approaching and wanted to make him a surprise, but he clearly couldn’t wait.

“we don't wanna make a fuss, do we?” he asked me from the opposite side of the screen, his voice snapping me back to reality. i nodded in agreement. “think you can do something for me, babe? open your mouth, yeah?” he commanded.

“such a good girl,” matt said after watching me. “now put your tongue out. i want you to stick two fingers in there”.

i already knew what he was going to ask next, so i sealed my lips around my own fingers and started to suck on them the same way i would if it were his instead of mine. i squeezed my eyes shut and leaned my head back against the pillow, relaxing my body as my tongue rolled between my fingers.

“take them to your nipples”, matt's voice was now deeper, more intense, and i could hear the sounds of the sheets moving along the bed - matt, surely, was hard already. i shifted the camera once again, now revealing my hardened tit and massaging it fully with my palm, my thumb circling my swollen nipple.

i let out a groan as i placed my index against the previous finger, almost as if i was pinching my own tit. my hands were not as agile as matt's, but his gentle incentives and his steady breaths made it easier for me to picture him there, playing with my flesh, squeezing, kissing and biting my bare skin.

then, suddenly, he flipped his screen to the back camera, showing the bulge that his sweats could barely hide. matt groped himself, mimicking thrusts with his palm over the thick cloth. he wrapped his knuckles around his length, tugging at his pants to show how his cock poked through the fabric. i noticed my lower lip sore as i bit it a little too hard to cover the sound of my whimpering and opened my mouth, sighing loudly and feeling my pussy clench.

“matty,” i called, receiving a reassuring tone. “take it off” i asked and he quickly did so, revealing his hardened cock.

his tip looked swollen and red, as if he'd been waiting for this forever. i could see the pre-cum leaking out of his slit, almost dripping down his shaft. my palm went towards my cunt, closing my thighs to feel the friction of the cloth of my shorts against my soaked folds.

“are you touching yourself babe?”

“n-not yet” i whispered. “fuck matt, please- can i?” matt hadn't started touching himself either, only dragging his hand lazily over his drooling cock.

“spread your legs and touch your clit for me, tell me how it is” he spoke and i quickly took my shorts off, completely naked, and opened my legs. my fingers wandered above my clit before i started to apply some pressure, goosebumps rising on my skin from the sudden contact.

“it's- swollen… hurts, matty” i whined, still gripping on the phone with my other hand.

“yeah? your tight pussy is aching already?” matt asked as i squeezed my eyes, traveling my digits down my wet folds, feeling how my pussy throbbed. “keep rubbing yourself real good sweetie, think of my fingers hm?"

“f-fuck, wish you were here” i really did. matt's fingers were much longer and worked faster than mine, being able to get me off in a few minutes.

“me too babe, look how worked up you got me” he talked about his cock, beggining to stroke his shaft in front of the camera. matt's breathing got heavier as his movements turned to a quicker pace, the wet sound taking over my speakers. “makin' me feel so good even when you're not here”

i could feel my pussy clenching, my need to be filled getting more intense as i circled my clit. i decided to take my cellphone to the nightstand next to me, fixing the screen so i could display my entire body as i touched myself to matt's words. “fuck, so pretty” he whispered as he kept on watching me carressing my curves.

“yeah babe, just like that. can you do something else f'me?” i nodded, not being able to form any coherent words, only muffled moans coming out of my mouth. “try sliding in a finger, hm? want you do it real slow, feel your walls closing around it”

i moved my middle finger down to my entrance, teasing it before going in. i remembered the way matt would do it, playing with his digits through my folds before pushing inside of me. he had turned the camera back to his view, showing his tired blue eyes and flushed red cheeks, lips open apart, a string of saliva connecting both parts. i groaned at the scene, finally starting to curl my knuckles.

“now put your hand on your neck. want you holding it tight while you finger yourself” i rolled my eyes as i wrapped my palm around my neck, increasing my grip’s pressure. i could feel blood suddenly rushing on my veins, my heart beating faster as i kept on that delightful torture of thrusting and choking myself.

“yeah, getting out of breath? 's okay, just as much as you can, know you love feeling dizzy right?” matt teased and the knot on my lower belly became harder to hold. “i need your f-fingers, fuck!” mine couldn’t reach my spot as good as his did.

“not good enough without me princess? don't stop rubbing your clit, do it with your thumb, you'll feel good” he adviced me, noticing my frustration. i did as told, moving faster as my legs twitched, spasms taking over my body as i got closer to my climax.

“babe, look at me” he called at my desperation. “bring the camera close, wanna see your face when you come”

“m-matt! please, gonna cum!” i cried once again, grabbing the phone quickly.

“yeah? gonna be my good little slut and cum for me over the phone?” i interrupted him with a chocked moan. “you can come babe, make a mess all over your fingers” matt said and i finally gave in, letting my orgasm break down on me. i tossed my phone on the bed as matt talked me through it, gripping on the sheets along with his praises.

“gonna lick you clean later” he continued, “love when my tongue drags through your sensitive pussy don't you? f-fuck y/n so fucking pretty i-” matt was cut off, groaning deeply.

“you came?” i spoke in a shaky voice, still out of breath. matt turned the camera once again, showing his now half hard cock coated in his white spurt, cum covering his fingers and part of his belly. i smiled, finally coming back to my senses.

“listen” he started. “that red bra? best purchase ever” i chuckled, not having energy to talk. “but like, i might still die from the lack of titties disease”

“you are seeing them matt. right now, my tits are here” i rolled my eyes. “and i told you, this set is for a special occasion!”

“special occasion tomorrow at my house, deal?” he joked and i denied with my head, covering an yawn with my hand. “you must be tired baby, lets go” he said as he adjusted himself in bed, turning to the side. i just pulled the sheet over me in order to cover my body, not wanting to get up.

“hey” i called, catching his blue eyes staring at me. “i love you”

“love you more. i’ll pick you after lunch, alright?” i nodded before i kissed the screen, receiving another kiss from matt. he disconnected the call and i finally closed my eyes, knowing i’d have to bring my new purchase to his house on the next day.

- ♡ -

taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattswhore-44 @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @sturniolofandomthings @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn

[luvt0kki]

training wheels | k.h.j

pairing : Professor!Hongjoong x innocent!reader ft!Wooyoung

♡₊˚( wrote this listening to ‘training wheels’ by Melanie Martinez)

summary: Too innocent for your own good, your professor's little hidden crush only grows the more he could spend time with you. You were so pure before his eyes. A sweet young woman who deserves the sweetest kind of love but still had trouble in paradise with her boyfriend…but he’ll be there for you. After all, he only wants what’s best for you and to protect you.

wc: 10.7k

cw: University AU, smut, coquette-ish fem!innocent reader, virgin reader, slightly older Hongjoong, manipulation, obsessive stalker-ish behavior, yandere behavior, corruption kink, cheating , frat boy behavior from Maknae line, oral!male receiving, there'll be more spice in the next part

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n: hello so it’s been awhile and this has been cooling in my drafts for so long. Special thanks to @songmingisthighs for helping me whenever I’m stuck with writing and for being one of my favourite persons on this app 😭i wanted to write something that isn’t apart of the Sway With Me universe just for a change and a breather ( I hope you guys don’t mind that). I just wanted to write.

- this is will be a two part series!

READ CONTENT WARNING BEFORE READING!

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

Note: Hongjoong is a couple years older but he’s still young for a professor. Maknae Line is in their last year of Uni and is part of the University’s Varsity baseball team.Y /N is innocent ( smh). Kinda coquettish vibes but yuh, sweet girl.

The rain storming outside made anxiety bubble in your chest as you clutched your laptop bag and books tight. You glanced at your phone, the bright red bar of the little battery icon glaring at you. That just made your situation even worse and it didn’t help that the last message you saw was the reason you were stranded here in the first place.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart. The team meeting is going overtime tonight. Get home safe. Please message me when you’re home.”

You waited for him. You should be angry at him but instead, you were only heartbroken and sad that he didn’t keep his word. You were frustrated that you couldn’t even hate him the slightest bit for forgetting to pick you up and the sudden downpour was just the cherry on top.

“Ms. L/N, is that you?”

That voice. That familiar tone that you heard every Monday and Wednesday from 8 am til 10 am. The voice that made your Art Appreciation lecture so interesting that you’re excited to come early every morning to learn sounded from behind you.

You turned around and quickly bowed your head in his direction out of respect.

“Mr.Kim.”

The young professor frowned at your presence.

“It is you. What are you still doing here?” He asked, extending his arm a bit to glance at his silver watch. “It’s almost 11 pm.”

“I-It started raining…” was all you could say. You couldn’t nor want to admit to your university professor the real reason why you were stranded on campus.

“Indeed…,” he gently grasped your arm and pulled you into the covered shade of the hall. “Do you need a ride home, Ms. L/N? I was just about to leave and go home but I can drop you off at the nearest bus stop or if you’d like, your home.”

His offer made your heart melt. Mr. Kim Hongjoong has always been so kind and sweet to his students. He has always shown such care and patience to their studies and well-being, and as the many girls in your classroom would whisper amongst each other, he was also very handsome. Which was a fact everyone in the whole campus knew.

“I don’t want to be of a hassle to you, Sir. I can wait for the rain to stop.” You tried to kindly turn down his offer, not wanting to bother him but also you felt it was inappropriate for a student to be in any proximity to a professor alone.

“Ms. L/N, it’s late and the rain doesn’t look like it’s going to stop anytime soon. I assure you it is not a bother to take you home. I’ll be worried if I just left you here.”

He was right. Both about the rain and the time, and you’re never out this late. Well at least not alone and it made you antsy. Mr. Kim looked at you with so much care in dark brown eyes that it felt impossible to say no to his kind offer.

“O-okay.”

And that’s how you found yourself in the passenger seat of your professor's fancy car.

You looked around subtly observing the luxurious interior of the vehicle. It smelled like new leather and Mr. Kim’s cologne. Your phone buzzed breaking your little observation as Mr. Kim typed in the location of your apartment into his phone GPS.

“Baby? Are you home? Please let me know.” The text message notification shone brightly.

You let out a little sigh.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but notice your rather wilted demeanor. He looked over you in the corner of his eye as he started the car. Little did you know, he was admiring your look today. You didn’t have class with him on Fridays so seeing today was rather…refreshing. Baby pink always looked so pretty on you, he thought to himself. Your blouse almost had a ballet-like aesthetic to it, it wrapped around your torso so elegantly and gently accentuated your curves. It was matched with a very pretty flowy white skirt that wasn’t too short nor too long, and there was a thin pink ribbon in your hair, the finishing touch to your very sweet ensemble. You always dressed so cute.

“Are you okay, Ms. L/N?” He asked his voice so calm and gentle that it calmed your silent frustration.

“Not really…” you muttered your gaze down at the hem of your skirt, your books, and your laptop sleeve on your lap.

The defeated expression you wore made the older man’s heartache for you. He didn’t like to see you like this. You were like a ray of gentle sunshine whenever you entered his classroom, a doe in a beautiful blooming field of flowers that radiated warmth that made anyone and everyone around you comfortable and calm. It was odd to see you like this.

“If you want to talk about it I’m all ears,” he offered with a smile, reaching behind the head of your passenger seat and glancing behind as he reversed up his car from the parking lot.

Your heart raced at the gesture. You didn’t know what about it was making you feel all flustered and small. His kind words and warm tone made it hard to keep your emotions in. Maybe you can just tell him…a little bit.

“I waited for my boyfriend to pick me up…but he didn’t come.” You murmured, heart aching as you said those words.

Hongjoong’s heart dropped, and he raised a brow at what you just said. Your boyfriend didn’t show up?

“I know I shouldn’t be so upset…it’s just he promised. I understand he has obligations to his team…I just feel like he forgot about me.”

Your sweet voice was so small. Hongjoong wanted nothing more than to soothe you and reassure you. Underneath all of that, he was bubbling with irritation. He kept a softened and caring expression on his face as he listened to you, gripping the stirring wheel to hide his annoyance.

“I-I’m sorry to hear that,” he said so sympathetically. “You’re such a sweet girl to be so understanding of your boyfriend. If I remember correctly your boyfriend is…”

“Wooyoung.” You whispered his name, your lips between your teeth as you tried to hold back your disappointed tears and hurt.

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened.

Right.

Jung Wooyoung.

“Ah…yes. The university’s baseball star.” He was also a student in one of his classes. A heartthrob along with his best friend and Baseball Vice Captain, Choi San.

“I’ll feel better when I get home and sleep it off.” You didn’t want to talk about him forgetting to pick you up any longer.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Ms. L/N, how long have you been together?” He asked, hoping his question was not so out of the blue as he continued to drive.

“Almost three months now, Mr. Kim.” You replied, the idea of being with Wooyoung for so long making you a little happy despite tonight’s disappointment.

Lucky bastard. “Oh, that’s very recent.”

“I know…but he’s very sweet to me. He takes care of me and he really makes me happy.” You listed the good things that always made your heart flutter. Your sweet loving boyfriend who had pursued you and never pushed for anything you weren’t ready for. If you were to describe your relationship with Wooyoung, it was like the love you see in the movies.

“That’s good to hear. You’re one of my sweetest students and I’d be worried if you weren’t happy,” Hongjoong smiled, earning the reaction he wanted and expected from someone as innocent as you.

Your pretty eyes widened at his words and you looked even shyer. He wondered if that’s why your boyfriend was attracted to you.

You didn’t know what to say but there was a small smile on your face when he called you one of his sweetest students.

“Thank you, sir.”

Sir.

Hongjoong’s night was getting better than he could ever imagine. First, the surprise of seeing you still on campus alone as he left, then you accepting his offer to drive you home, and now, Sir? For a long time, he loved how that name slipped from your pretty glossed lips.

“I’m sure your boyfriend feels really guilty about not having shown up. Sometimes these things happen.” Hongjoong tried to reassure you, not really wanting to defend the University senior you were seeing but he needed to say what you wanted or needed to hear.

You take his words as it is. He was older than you so he knew about these things more than you. He was wiser. He was right, these things do happen. Wooyoung did apologize too. So maybe it’s not as bad as you were making it out to be.

Hongjoong noticed how you sat up a little, no longer sulking so cutely in the passenger seat. He smirked a little to himself, his eyes on the road. Did you trust his words that much? Was that how much power he had over you?

You were too innocent it concerned him.

You were truly a doe in a field of flowers. So pretty and so completely oblivious to the wolves hiding in the tall grass. He was sure your boyfriend was one of them and that he too had a deep dark desire for your innocence.

“Is this your place?” He pulled up outside an apartment complex, people passing by in the street as he looked up at the building observing it.

“Yes, it is!” You chirped, happy that you were able to get home safely and it was all thanks to your kind and sweet professor. “Thank you so much, Mr. Kim. I really appreciate it. I really cannot thank you enough…and talking to you made me feel better. I’m really lucky that you were here tonight.”

Hongjoong smiled, holding back from reaching over to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. He didn’t want to scare you away.

“If you ever find yourself in any kind of trouble, Ms. L/N, you can come to me okay? Here,” he reached into his pocket, getting his card but writing down his personal phone number in the back of it before holding it your way.

Like he expected you didn’t think much of it, what a sweet girl.

“Mr. Kim you’re so kind.” You took the pretty name card with his phone number in the back. “I don’t get into trouble but I appreciate this. Thank you.”

“Let me help you get inside, okay?” He got out of his car with an umbrella, going over to your side to open the passenger seat door and to hold the umbrella over you and him so that he could escort you to your apartment lobby.

You stepped out of the car and blushed when you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders to gently guide you to the sidewalk and your apartment lobby. He made sure you were dry and safe and also took note of how an access card is needed to get in. He was glad you lived somewhere so safe.

You thanked him again, unable to look him in the eyes because the warm smile on his face was making your heart flutter.

“Now I can go home without worrying if you got back safe,” he lightheartedly teased, making you giggle. He was such a kind person. “Take care of yourself, Ms. L/N. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Enjoy your weekend, Sir.” You bowed your head respectfully, appreciating how handsome he was in his coat and suit. It made him look like a character from the dramas you see on television.

Monday rolled around quicker than you thought while Hongjoong found the weekend went by agonizingly slow. As he set up his laptop in the lecture hall as other students filed in, he couldn’t help but anticipate your arrival. He kindly smiled and greeted the students who had the energy to wish him a good morning, he even kept glancing at your seat that was still empty.

Were you not well? Did you catch a cold over the weekend from the rain on Friday night?

“You really didn’t have to walk me, Woo.”

Your gentle soft voice made the professor perk up and his heart race a little. Subtly, he glanced at the door, more students entering but behind them in the hall was you.

“Hey, I still feel guilty about not having picked you up on Friday. I’m gonna make it up to you.” Wooyoung placed his hand on your waist, feeling the soft fabric of your skirt. “You’re too nice if you’re just gonna let me off the hook. I’m gonna be extra attentive, okay baby?”

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at the young dark-haired boy, his varsity jacket telling everyone that passed who he was and the status he had in the university. He zeroed in on the hand on your waist, Wooyoung’s thumb caressing you gently and his fingers even playing with the cute ribbons on your skirt.

“O-okay,” you blushed, trying to fight back the giddy smile that was forming on your face.

Wooyoung grinned at your response and glanced left and right before pulling you closer til you were pressed against him. Your wide eyes looked up at him in surprise and you got your body tingling when both his hands rested on your waist.

Your fluster only made your handsome boyfriend grin even more with that twinkle in his eyes that always made you feel special.

“You have a nice day, okay?” He whispered and before you could respond, without a care in the world and with no shame if any other student passing would see, he leaned down and kissed your glossed lips.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks. This was different from the soft pecks and quick kisses he’d give, these were the kisses you liked from him. The deep ones that made your head feel all hazy. The one that made heat pool in your lower belly.

Wooyoung pulled back and pressed another kiss on your forehead. “I’ll see you for lunch.”

“O-okay.” You murmured, feeling everyone’s curious eyes on both of you and wanting to remain hidden by Wooyoung’s form.

Wooyoung smiled and then licked his lips. “Oh? Strawberry?”

The mention of your flavored lip gloss made you look up at him, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“You’re gonna have me craving you all morning, baby.” He dramatically placed a hand over his chest. “How will I ever survive? One more.” He tried to go for another kiss and you squealed as he pulled you back.

“Woo, I have class!”

“But strawberry!” He pouted as he kept you in his embrace, some students rolling their eyes at the two of you and some finding the two of you cute and amusing. Wooyoung’s teammates from down the hall caught wind of the two of you and hooted.

“Sorry to interrupt but I’ll be starting my lecture soon.”

The voice of Mr. Kim made your eyes widen as embarrassment made you want to hide from his gaze.

“Oh, Mr. Kim,” Wooyoung spoke his professor's name with no shame of getting caught being affectionate with his girlfriend. “Morning!”

Hongjoong could only manage a nod to his greeting before turning to you, still in your boyfriend’s hold and unable to look him in the eyes.

“Ms. L/N, class starts in five minutes.” He spoke sternly, his tone making your lips form a small pout.

The way you reacted to him made the older man before you swoon. God, you were too cute.

“Yes, sir.”

There it was again. The way you said ‘sir’ all defeated and cute.

“Sorry, Mr. Kim.” Wooyoung apologized. “My bad.” He removed his varsity jacket and draped it over your shoulders before kissing your cheek. “I’ll see you at lunch, baby.”

Then Wooyoung sauntered away with a swing in his step and his bag over one shoulder, on his way to his respective class.

“Sorry, Mr. Kim.” You murmured, keeping your gaze down and hugging your books to your chest as you went inside the room along with the last few students who arrived.

Hongjoong watched as you made your way to your seat. Your pretty skirt swayed with each step and he wondered if skirts made up most of your wardrobe. It must be such a delight for your boyfriend.

Loosening the grip he had on his pen as he watched the whole interaction between you and Wooyoung, he smiled at his students. What mattered the most to him was you were safe. You were here and you were safe and well. Never mind the fact that you and your boyfriend easily made up from Friday night’s incident.

You were here.

The lecture was an enjoyable one not only for the students but him as well. As he discussed the significance of art during the Roman Empire, his students were all hooked in with his explanations and discussions, and even he got carried away excitedly with every question and topic.

“Mr. Kim is so hot.” A classmate beside you, Jennie, whispered to her friend, the two of them giggling as your professor shared his knowledge with the class.

“And he’s so nice too. You think he’s a virgin?” Minsol whispered back and you felt your heart grow hot listening to them.

You fidgeted in your seat and tried to block them out, focusing on Professor Kim.

“He’s so young to be a professor. Maybe he spent all that time studying to the max, you know! Maybe he is!”

“He’s so cute.” Minsol chuckled. “But then he’s so sexy when he pushes his hair back.”

And almost as if on cue, Mr. Kim ran his fingers through his dark brown locks, pushing them back as he smiled at his students in awe at the discussion.

He was handsome. You admitted that a long time ago. Attractive? Yes. But he was your professor. It was wrong to think of him the way Jennie and Minsol were.

Til now, their voices couldn’t be blocked out completely.

“I’d gladly blow him for a good grade,” Jennie whispered, her eyes looking Hongjoong up and down.

“Jennie!” Minsol playfully smacked her friend, her voice still hushed.

“What? Just think of it. Goody two shoes Mr.Kim so kind and worried that your grades are slipping, and then you tell him you’d do anything to raise your grade.” Jennie described the scenario so vividly. “No one needs to know what goes on behind closed doors.”

Your heart was racing in your chest as you listened to the fantasy. It didn’t help that Mr. Kim was right there before your eyes as Jennie’s voice whispered discreetly to her friend such a scandalous scenario.

“But it won’t stop there.”

That piqued your interest and you felt ashamed to have been so curious.

“He has a nice car too. Imagine fucking in the backseat of that luxury car way past campus hours in secret.”

Your heart thumped strongly at the mention of his car. You had been in his car and the dirty thought of Mr. Kim being all over your body and kissing you in the spacious backseat crossed your mind.

You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together.

Hongjoong’s eyes scanned all his students, happy that they were enjoying the class but paused when he saw you. Your body was swallowed by your boyfriend’s big varsity jacket and you looked flustered, even biting your glossed lips, fidgeting in your seat.

Then he saw the two girls next to you giggling and gossiping. What were they talking about that was making you blush so much? Briefly, your eyes moved from your notebook and locked with his but you immediately looked down when you saw that he had been looking your way.

Hongjoong could only assume they were talking about him. In what way? He wasn’t sure but it was a way that was making you look even shyer and could he dare say, hot and bothered?

Then the bell rang.

“Alright, we’ll continue the discussion on Wednesday and I’ll hand you all your Renaissance art period essays that I already graded then. Have a nice day.” Hongjoong’s elegant and calm voice echoed in the lecture hall, as he made his way behind his desk, sitting out the papers.

A chorus of thanks was sent his way as the students little by little exited the lecture hall. He looked your way, watching as you packed your things and gathered your books.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jennie turned to you. “How are you and your stud of a boyfriend?”

“Oh, m-me and Woo?” Your lashes fluttered so prettily as Hongjoong pretended he couldn’t hear you and the girls.

“Yeah! We saw you two being all cute and kissy out in the hall.” Minsol chuckled as she touched up her makeup with powder.

“We’re great.” You couldn’t stop the happy smile on your face as you thought of your boyfriend.

“He’s your first boyfriend, right? Have you two…you know….”

Your brows furrowed. “Have we what?”

Hongjoong fought his sigh at how oblivious you were.

Minsol’s eyes widened as she snapped her compact closed and leaned over. “You guys haven’t?”

“What are you two talking about?” You tilted your head like a puppy.

The two girls exchanged looks of shock.

“Y/N…” Jennie leaned closer, lowering her voice even further but Hongjoong’s ears were sharp. “Are you a virgin?”

Immediately, your face was burning as you hugged your books to your chest, wanting to cover your face with Wooyoung’s jacket.

“Holy shit!” Minsol exclaimed then realized she had been loud. She looked towards the whiteboard and saw Mr. Kim looking at the three of you questioningly. “Uh…sorry Mr. Kim!”

Hongjoong only smiled and he shook his head, returning to his papers and was glad that he was sitting behind his desk as the idea of you never being touched morphed from shock and into desire. He kind of guessed you were…but dating the star athlete and heartthrob of the campus made him second guess that you were.

“Girl, you need to come with us!” Jennie hooked her arm with yours and Minsol on the other as the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall.

“Bye, Mr. Kim!” They chimed as they dragged you out with them.

“B-bye, sir.” Your little voice reached his ears as the three of you finally left him alone in the empty hall.

Hongjoong hunched over, crossing his arms on his desk as he groaned.

You were driving him insane.

What’s worse was that you didn’t even intend to do so.

He wanted you.

He needed you.

As the afternoon passed, Hongjoong made his way to his office. The hall was empty as students were in their classes or their club activities. It was peaceful til he heard hushed whispers ahead from an empty classroom, the door only slightly ajar.

The professor frowned. Were there students doing another weed deal on campus? Before concluding, through the very small gap of the wooden double doors, he took a peek.

“S-someone could walk in.”

Was that his sweet Y/N’s voice? Hongjoong’s heart began to race.

“Baby, I promise no one is. This room is always vacant at this hour.” Wooyoung reassured you, kissing your neck as his hands roamed your body, specifically caressing your thighs that were parted as he stood between them.

Hongjoong swallowed the lump in his throat.

Perched on the large mahogany desk, was you. Your skirt was hiked up higher as your boyfriend pressed against you, his paws all over your soft body, feeling you through your clothes.

“You look so sexy in my jacket,” Wooyoung whispered in your ear, his hand moving lower til they were under your skirt. “I couldn’t stop thinking of how good you looked during lunch.”

You softly yelped when his fingers pressed against your core through your cotton panties. “W-woo!”

“Awe, baby, are you getting wet? All for me?”

“W-woo,” you whimpered when he traced his fingers along your slit, embarrassed at the dirty talk.

“Fuck, you’re soaking through your panties, baby. Tell me you want me to touch you. Ask me and I’ll make you feel good, baby.”

You wanted him to keep touching you but you felt a little guilty. You had started to feel hot way earlier than your boyfriend knew. Jennie and Minsol’s hushed whispering from class about Mr. Kim…ashamedly had made you ache.

“M-make me feel good, Woo.”

Your boyfriend groaned against your neck, rubbing you through your panties. “My pretty baby. You deserve so much.”

Your back arched when he applied more pressure to your clit.

“I’ll make you feel good, baby. I promise…. but I won’t make your first time here in a classroom.” He kissed your neck messily, licking your skin.

“But Youngie…” you didn’t want him to stop touching you. He has touched you like this many times before when he came over but it never went past that. He didn’t want to force you into something you weren’t ready for but as time passed and the more you fell for him, you’ve been wanting to go all the way with him.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you cum. I’ll be a good boyfriend and let my pretty girlfriend cum.” He kissed your forehead, slipping his hand under your panties to truly feel you. “You’re so wet, baby.” He moaned, collecting your slick and spreading it all over your pussy.

“Youngie,” you whimpered, gripping his shirt as your thighs trembled at the delicious friction.

“I love it when you call me that,” he sighed, repressing the urge that he indeed in fact wanted to ruin his pretty untouched girlfriend. He loved you and he wanted to treat you right as best as he could. You weren’t like the other girls he’s been with. He liked how you looked at him with stars in your eyes.

Your thighs squeezed at his sides unable to close as he continued to play with your pussy, touching you heavily and the way you liked. You couldn’t help but softly moan and pant at the intoxicating pleasure.

Hongjoong was burning with jealousy. A part of him wanted to disrupt the two of you and scold the two of you for misconduct as he had every right as a professor to do so. But…you looked so pretty falling apart for your boyfriend. Brows furrowed as your lips part and sigh, the setting sun hitting your skin in such a way that the lewd imagery before him was like a movie. He could feel his desire straining in his trousers. He wanted to watch.

“Youngie,” you whimpered so prettily.

Hongjoong took note of how your back arched when Wooyoung nibbled and kissed at a spot on your neck. You must be extra sensitive there. He also imagined how soft your breasts would be if he was the one cupping them through your cute blouse.

“You close baby?” Wooyoung rasped against your ear, rubbing your clit faster, making you lean your head forward to rest on his chest.

“Nuh-uh,” Wooyoung clicked his tongue, his right hand leaving your breast to grab you by the chin, making you look at him. “Let me see your pretty face, baby.” He swiped his thumb over your lower lip and bit his lip when you suddenly took his digit into your mouth, softly sucking on it. Where the fuck did you learn to do that? “C’mon, baby. Cum. Cum for me.”

You released his thumb with a soft pop, your lips even glossier from your gloss and saliva. You were panting and moaning so cutely, Wooyoung felt he was going to cum in his pants just at the sight of you getting off his fingers. He massaged your clit faster, watching the way your lids began to droop as you blinked up at him hazily and your lips part in a cute little ‘o’.

“Youngie!” You cried out, back arching and thighs trembling as you reached your high, your pussy dripping more arousal all over your boyfriend’s fingers.

“That’s it, baby. Such a pretty baby.” Wooyoung cooed, enjoying your fucked out expression. It was addicting really. His sweet innocent girlfriend falling apart for him. If you were this fucked out by just fingers, he can’t imagine how fucking delectable you looked when he finally fucked you.

Hongjoong bit his lip as he watched you come down from your high. How your arms wrapped around your boyfriend as he slowed his circles on your clit. He wished he could see how your pussy looked, how wet it was, and how sweet the nectar it produced.

Wooyoung took his hand from your panties and brought his fingers to his lips, your eyes widening. His hand left its grip on your face.

“W-woo!”

That didn’t stop him from letting his tongue dart out to lick his digits. “You taste so sweet, baby. Maybe I’ll come up tonight once I drop you off and really have a good taste of you.”

You blushed at his words and felt heat spark in your lower belly at what he hinted. Did he mean that he was going to kiss and taste you down there? With his tongue? The idea made your cheeks grow hot but that only made your boyfriend grin.

“Oh? You’re not opposed to it?” He teased, enjoying the way you only huffed and pouted your pretty lips. “Here, baby. Taste yourself.”

Hongjoong watched as you wearily, so curiously, poked out your cute tongue to lick your boyfriend’s fingers. How did you taste? Did you like it? You batted your lashes up at your boyfriend who awaited your verdict.

“So? How do you taste?” He took your hand in his other one, just relishing the moment you two had in the orange sunset-lit classroom.

“G-good.”

“Atta, girl.” Wooyoung grinned, taking you into his embrace and kissing you again.

Hongjoong felt his head pound from how hard he was in his pants. He wanted a taste. He needed a taste.

How was he going to get close to you when you and your boyfriend were all fine and dandy again?

“What do you say, baby? Friday night? I’ll come over and we’ll watch a movie. I’ll bring your favorite strawberries coated in chocolate. Then maybe…” he caressed your cheek. “We could go all the way?”

“W-won’t it hurt?”

Wooyoung and Hongjoong’s hearts ached at your sweetness.

“Well, when Friday rolls around, and you’re not up for it. It’s okay. We’ll just have a cozy little date and make out. I’ll wait for you when you’re ready. Okay?”

His gentle voice along with his care for you made your stomach flutter. “O-okay.” You leaned your cheek into his palm. “I love you, Woo.”

“I love you too, baby.”

While you and Wooyoung basked in the moment you two found yourselves in, Hongjoong made a beeline to his office and locked the door. He glanced down and saw the bulge of his cock poking through his tailored trousers. He threw his head back, slamming it against the door as he groaned.

He was going to have to take care of it himself cause it wasn’t going to go away til he did.

He didn’t know when the stalking— okay, in his defense, following and keeping an eye on you, started.

All Hongjoong knew was, he needed to get to know you. He needed to get closer somehow, be a friend. Someone you could turn to and cry to. Plus, you lived alone, away from your parents. You needed someone to protect you.

From all the wolves that surrounded you, including that boyfriend of yours.

As he passed the baseball field from where he parked his car, he couldn’t help but overhear a group of young wolf pups gathered and talking beneath the morning sun. They all wore the same varsity jacket, making Hongjoong’s pack of wolves analogy even truer.

“So? Did you and Y/N go all the way yet?” The Vice Captain of the team asked, the young and handsome Mr. Choi.

The rest of the boys began to nudge and tease their Captain who had been tossing the baseball in his hand nonchalantly.

“Yeah, have you and little Miss all prim and proper done more than just second base?” The tallest of them, Song Mingi, joined in the teasing, the boys all grinning and tossing oo’s and ah’s. “Your girl has a nice ass.”

“Hey,” Wooyoung harshly hissed at his teammate. “Yeah, and that’s my girl you’re talking about.”

“Can’t blame Mingi. You’re with the campus’s dream girl.” Jongho added, running his fingers through his brown hair.

“Dream girl?” Wooyoung’s brows furrowed.

“Yeah! Sure she’s lowkey and literally the nicest person on campus. Hell, she even helped me with calculus. I even thought of asking her out on a date.” San chirped. “But you got to her first. Anyway, that’s beside the point, did you guys finally do it? Friday night?”

Hongjoong remained hidden behind the shadows of the bleachers, needing to know the answer to San’s question.

“We didn’t. She got nervous and you know, I have to be a good boyfriend and wait. I don’t want to pressure her. She’s a nice girl.” Wooyoung finally responded, his answer earning a groan from his friends.

Mingi stared at him for a moment. “You should be a saint. That amount of self-control is crazy.”

“Well, good things come to those who wait, Mingi.” Wooyoung grinned. “I’m a hundred percent sure my girl is worth the wait and more.”

“You’re really down bad for her, huh?” Jongho laughed softly, actually admiring the fact that Wooyoung was becoming a better guy with you.

“Y-yeah…she is. I really love her.”

“I just can’t believe she fell for you. After all the girls you slept with in the past and the parties. She still fell for Jung Wooyoung. Anyways,” Jongho clapped Wooyoung on the back. “I hope you get some soon.”

San wouldn’t relent though.

“Has she at least been…you know….giving? I know you worship the fuck out of her in different ways but has the pretty princess given back?”

Hongjoong should head back to his office before he’s caught but…he needed to know the details.

“San, she doesn’t know how.”

Wooyoung’s response made San groan and Hongjoong fought back his own.

“She’s a fucking angel your girlfriend.” San huffed his crush on you not concerning Wooyoung as he knew San would never cross the line.

“Dude, when you get to teach her, it’s gonna be so fucking hot.” Mingi sighed, thinking of who to contact for his next hookup. He needed to fuck.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but agree. To teach someone as beautiful and pretty as you, how to use your cute mouth and delicate hands…the fantasy of you between his legs while he sits on his office couch…guiding you while you look up at him for him to lead you…the young pups have a point.

“Okay, can you guys chill and not talk about my girlfriend like that?” Wooyoung lightly scolded his friends. “Anyways, you guys better be on your best behavior for tonight’s practice. I'm driving Y/N home for our date and I really don’t want to have to bail again because Coach isn’t happy with our performance.”

“We’ll do our best,” San spoke for them, sending a pointed glare to Mingi and Jongho, they’re bickering always getting their Coach to overtime their practices. “But coach hasn’t been in a good mood as far as I know.”

Wooyoung swore under his breath, worry bubbling in his chest when he imagined your disappointment and the way your eyes become glassy as you fight back tears. He really didn’t want to make you feel like he didn’t care about you again…he knew you understood his obligations to his team. He just hoped he wouldn’t forget to update you this time and keep you waiting for him.

Hongjoong didn’t stay long after that. He went off his merry way back to his office, wondering if tonight would be another chance to have some time with you again. Be your knight in shining armor if your boyfriend doesn’t pick you up again.

All he needed to do was stay in your good graces.

After all, he just wanted to take care of you…

It began with longer conversations after class, asking how you were doing and if you understood the lecture or not. Then when midterms started to round the corner he would casually stay past campus hours just so that he could ‘by chance’ be finishing up late at the same time you were finished up studying in the library.

But this time, when he found you, the sun was beginning to set and you were in one of the library aisles, in the sections students don’t frequent, on the floor hugging your knees to your chest. Your back was against the tall wooden bookshelf and you were by the window, your head below the window pane as you softly sniffled.

Hongjoong felt his stomach twist. What did your boyfriend do?

“Ms. L/N?” As softly as he could, he called out to you and he saw you visibly stiffen.

“M-Mr. Kim?” You kept your head down, too embarrassed to look up at him because he would see the tears and puffiness in your eyes.

“Are you okay, Ms. L/N?” He slowly approached, observing your body language if you would shrink away from him. He kneeled before you. “Did something happen? Why are you crying?”

You bit your lip, fighting back the way it quivered as you wanted to tell him exactly what happened but you were crying over something so silly.

A gentle warm hand softly patted your head, your heart stopping at the touch. Maybe you could tell him everything. Besides…he has been so kind to you and only ever wanted to make sure you were okay. When the two of you spent time together and talked, you would sometimes forget he was your professor and not just a friend.

And yet, your heart couldn’t help but want to be in the palm of his hand, knowing he’d be gentle with it.

When you lifted your head to look at him, the tears in your eyes had Hongjoong almost falling to his knees and wanting to embrace you right then and there. “I’ll take you to my office okay?” He offered, taking out his handkerchief and putting it in your trembling hands.

“O-okay.” You murmured.

With a guiding arm around your shoulders and making sure no wandering eyes would see the two of you, the likelihood being low since it was past class hours, the varsity teams were training and it was a Friday, he led you to his office.

You stood awkwardly in the middle of his office, clutching his handkerchief in your hand, a part of your brain contemplating the idea of being vulnerable in your professor's office. It was highly inappropriate. Should anyone find out—

You were torn from your thoughts when a pair of warm arms wrapped around you so gently. You blinked a couple of times unable to process what was happening and the beating of your heart. Hongjoong cradled the back of your head as he held you close to him, your cheek brushing against his neck.

“It hurts to see you cry.” He whispered, unable to hold himself back from soothing you then he pulled away and led you to the leather couch in his office.

You sat on one end while he was on the other, the gap between you reminding you of the intrusive thought of the distance you and Wooyoung might have soon…

“What’s wrong, darling? You can tell me, you know. I’m always here to lend an ear. Whatever it is I won’t judge you, especially when it hurts you this deeply.”

Hongjoong tried to meet your eyes that were cast down on your fingers on your lap, fiddling with his handkerchief. Was it your boyfriend? He swore if it was Jung Wooyoung he was going to teach that boy a lesson.

Hesitantly, you allowed yourself to speak freely to him.

A moment of weakness?

“I-I overheard Youngie’s friends when I was in the library…they were about to leave for practice and…” you felt that lump in your throat creep up higher, making you want to sob again as you remembered what they said. “They said that they felt b-bad for him.”

Bad for him?

“It’s a bit…tmi…sir. I’m sorry it’s hard to speak about it.” You stared at the edge of your skirt, feeling the shame and embarrassment you had felt earlier crawling on your skin.

“Ah? TMI.” Hongjoong crossed his arms over his chest, trying to play it off as if it’s nothing to make it comfortable for you to tell him. “Well, Ms. L/N, we are two adults, aren’t we not? Plus, it’s after university hours. I’m here for you right now as a friend and I’d like to help soothe your troubles if you would let me.”

It was almost too easy the way you caved into his words. Jung Wooyoung did not deserve a sweet girl like you.

“Youngie’s teammates…said they feel bad for him because I haven’t…” you paused, heat blooming in your tear-stained cheeks. “I haven’t slept with him.” Then you felt that ache in your heart return. “I don’t want to lose him, Mr. Kim. I love him so much. I-I want to be a good girlfriend.”

Hongjoong’s heart broke. His beautiful wilted rose. How dare those dumb boys speak so ill of you?

“You’re a good girlfriend I’m sure, Ms. L/N.” He reassured you with such calmness, his words made you perk up a little. “You didn’t hear these words from Wooyoung himself right?”

You nodded.

“But even though…I still want to make him feel good. He always makes me feel…” you trailed off, realizing that you were talking about the intimate things you and your boyfriend do. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with Wooyoung like that…I just…I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“Disappoint him how?”

“Wooyoung has been with girls…with experience. He’s my first boyfriend and he’s the first man to ever touch m-me…kiss me…”

Hongjoong was fighting back the attraction grew the more you spoke about your lack of experience. He couldn’t believe those boys had you questioning your worth all because you were scared to go all the way with your boyfriend.

“I-I even tried watching…videos…on how I can do things for Wooyoung…but I just am too scared to initiate it. What if I do something wrong and it goes horribly?”

“You shouldn’t need to worry about that. I’m sure your…” Hongjoong held himself back from saying what he said with jealousy. “…boyfriend would be more than happy to teach you. Has he offered to?”

You shook your head.

“Ah…I see.” Hongjoong sat back, trying to think of what to say next. “I’m pretty sure what you lack is practice…” he trod carefully, gauging your expression with each word he was choosing. “You’ll never know til you give it a try. With everything in life, you learn as you go.”

He watched as you took each word seriously, a rather sweet pensive look on your face as you nodded at his advice. Hongjoong hoped he didn’t cross the line by saying that and made things awkward between the two of you.

“If I may speak as another human being helping another,” Hongjoong continued, hoping to calm your stormy mind. “I just hope you don’t feel pressured to do anything with your boyfriend or anyone. It’s very sweet of you to want to do something this intimate with someone you desire but I’d rather you won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

You fiddled with the hem of your skirt, going over all the caring and sweet affirmations Mr. Kim was giving you. How was it you felt so safe with him? He was too kind to you…yet you enjoyed the company he gave.

When Wooyoung wasn’t able to take you home from extended practices and last minute cancellations and texts, Professor Kim was always there to somehow salvage the day. To stop the breaking of your heart with his warm smile and effort to get to know you and make conversation.

“M-Mr. Kim…”

You finally spoke. Hongjoong smiled warmly at the call of his name. He observed how your cheeks began to flush. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you hesitate to continue. You suck in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to be brave and look him in the eye.

“Could you guide me?”

Nothing but your voice rang in his ears at this moment. Hongjoong was shocked by the question. Was it a question? With the way your eyes were bleary and glossy, how your lips were trembling, and how flustered you appeared. It was a plea.

“Ms.L/N….” He tried to resist as much as he could, knowing that if he were to cross the line, he wouldn’t be able to go back. You were his forbidden desire. If he were to take a bite, he would want nothing more than to consume you.

You knew what you asked was silly and inappropriate, and a part of you regretted asking but if you were to leave this room right now, all you would be able to think about was how Wooyoung’s friends talked about you and wonder how much Wooyoung shared to his friends about yours and his relationship.

Mr.Kim looked speechless and flustered from what you asked of him. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked.

“Mr.Kim, I-I’m so sorry,” you quickly blurted out, trying to salvage the odd atmosphere. “Please forget everything I said. Thank you so much for comforting me—

"Are you sure you want me to help, Ms. L/N?” Hongjoong stopped your rambling, taking your hand that you hadn’t realized was trembling from nerves but the moment he spoke and he touched you, your body found a sense of calm. “I just don’t want to make you do anything you’ll regret.”

Oh, he wanted to help.

“I-I wouldn’t have asked anyone else but you...I feel safe with you.” You mumbled shyly, staring at his pretty hand holding yours, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your knuckles.

“Your trust in me is something I shall cherish and I wouldn’t dare break it.” He looked you in the eyes as he said that, the warmth and intensity of them made your heart flutter. “I promise I’ll keep it strictly professional and I’ll make sure to put your comfort first.”

Your heart fluttered again. “O-okay.”

“How would you like this to go?”

“I-I’m not sure…Wooyoung usually takes the lead whenever we do anything more than kissing…” you were speaking so softly, it was pulling at Hongjoong’s heartstrings. You were so precious. “I wouldn’t mind you taking the lead…teach me how to make Wooyoung feel good.” You squeezed his hand nervously and he kept his soft smile on his face, hiding his excitement.

You’ll let him take the lead?

“Okay, sweetheart. I promise I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with okay?” He caressed your cheek fondly, forcing himself to not brush your lips with his thumb. “Tell me to stop when it gets too much.”

“Thank you, sir.” You whispered, feeling all tense as he got closer.

Sir? Were you trying to kill him? He scooted closer, your knees touching his own. “Do I have permission to touch you, darling?”

The pet name made you feel just a little bit more hotter. The way he said it, his voice a low purr, made you feel things you thought you’d only feel with Wooyoung.

“Y-yes, sir.”

Experimentally, he slowly glided his hand up the side of your thigh, the sweet gasp falling from your lips making him smirk against your neck. He brushed his lips against your neck, before whispering in your ear. “You’ve watched videos as research, correct?”

You stuttered out your response, feeling your body grow warm with the way his hand smoothed up and down your thigh, never going higher than where your skirt stopped. “I did…” Was it wrong that you wanted his hand to move higher?

Hongjoong held back from kissing your neck, testing the waters of what exactly he could do to you. His hand moved to your waist now, caressing the curve of your side then stopping so that his thumb was just below the underside of your bra covered chest.

“Why don’t you show me what you learned, hm? Then I’ll guide you along the way.” He suggested, his tone going just a little lower than usual.

And that’s how you found yourself on your knees, between your professor's trousered thighs, your eyes looking at him with such uncertainty and the willingness to learn.

“Don’t be shy. I’m sure you won't disappoint,” Hongjoong reassured you, petting your head lovingly while his thoughts were going wild at the mere sight of you all cute and demure between his legs.

“O-okay.”

As you had watched and observed, you placed your hands on his thighs. They trembled a little. What if you messed up here too? You shook the thought away. Professor Kim was going to guide you. You’ll be okay and then you’ll be able to make Wooyoung feel good too.

All of this was for Wooyoung.

You slowly slid your hands up his thighs feeling the smooth fabric of his trousers as you recounted the videos you had seen. You remembered how the woman in the video would trace her fingers over the man’s groin…but was Hongjoong even…turned on?

You remember how stiff Wooyoung would get when you were on his lap as you two made out, his hands running up and down your sides then over the curve of your ass, squeezing it.

Do you need to kiss Mr. Kim too?

Before asking, you experimentally softly placed your palm against his groin, blushing to find that he was hot and rather stiff through his pants. A shaky breath escaped him and you retracted your hand.

“W-was that not okay?”

“It was fine,” he managed a smile for you, getting hard at just how shy and sweet you were. “You’re doing fine.”

“O-okay,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, gliding your palm over his clothed groin before sliding higher, your other hand joining to unbuckle his belt.

Each gentle and inexperienced touch or ghost of your fingers over his crotch was making his cock twitch to life. It was so easy for him to be turned on…well…because it was you. It was endearing how focused yet nervous you were and once you tugged his briefs down low enough for his cock to spring up, your eyes stared at his length.

From his reclined position on the couch, his legs spread to accommodate you, he was able to notice the way your thighs squeezed to tether at the sight of him.

Your face was hot as your eyes took in the sight of his cock. It was way more intimidating to see one in person than on a screen…was it odd for you to think it was rather pretty? The head was a soft pink and it glistened with something that made your tongue somehow itch to want to try and wrap your mouth around him. Would he fit in your mouth? Would he fit in— you stopped yourself from thinking that. You can’t go all the way with Mr. Kim, you were going to do that with Wooyoung.

Feeling his warm gaze on you, you gently wrapped your hand around his length. The feeling of him hot and heavy in your palm, the girth of him, made your core pulse.

Hongjoong bit his lip at the gentle touch, the smoothness of your palm, and the dainty way you held him making him sensitive to whatever you were doing. He knew it wasn’t on purpose that you were prolonging any sort of movement, you weren’t sure what to do next.

“Tell me what you learned,” he managed to speak calmly. “Or what you observed.”

Squeezing your thighs together and inching closer to get into a comfortable position, you thought of what to answer. “In the videos…the girls take their partner in their mouth…and some just move their hand…I'm not sure what to do next, I’m sorry.” You looked away, embarrassed.

This was exactly why you never initiated it with Wooyoung. If you did and you messed up or did not even follow through, he would’ve mentioned it to his friends somehow in their talks.

Hongjoong saw how nervous you were and tried to suppress the desire to command you what to do and how you should do it, he placed his hand over yours that was softly holding his cock. He couldn’t be mean to you…as much as he wanted to completely control you and make you feel pleasure that would have you falling apart for him, he wanted to be gentle with you.

“I’ll guide you, okay?” His other hand petted the top of your head, making the nerves yo I had been feeling dwindle. You nodded.

“You have to spit on it first, sweetheart.”

His words made your eyes widen. The dirty notion was embellished with a sweet term of endearment. Hearing it from him, from the mouth where only kindness, care and knowledge was all you heard come out of it, made you feel warm.

“Spit on it?”

“I know it sounds odd but it’ll help. I’ll guide you on how to use your hand first. Don’t be shy, darling.”

His encouragement only made you want to do as he says. You told yourself it only feels weird because you’ve never done it before and Mr. Kim was kind enough to help you be more confident when the time comes for you to do it with your boyfriend.

Leaning over, you collected your saliva and spat softly. Hongjoong bit back any sound that dared escape him at the moment not ready to break the promise of being professional for your sake but the warmth of your spit and how shyly you did it turned him on even more.

“Now,” he guided your hand. “Spread it around with my precum like this.” He loosely moved your hand, letting your dainty fingers be covered by the mix of your spit and his precum. “It’ll be easier to move your hand this way, it’ll feel good.”

You nodded, feeling the slickness against your palm and how it now easily glided along his length with his hand still over yours.

“You have to hold it just a little tighter.” He closed his hand over yours a little tighter but not too tight but just enough to tell you how much pressure you should be applying.

“L-like this?” You adjusted your grip and slowly while your hand moved in slow up and down motions, he removed his hand and a deep sigh of bliss left him.

“Just like that, sweetheart…just like that.” His voice dipped lower and his head rolled back a little, giving you the perfect view of his sharp jawline and pink lips.

Your eyes kept shifting from his face and to his cock in your hand, entranced somehow by the idea of how he was feeling good by just your hand. Watching a video was completely different from actually doing it. You recalled the way a girl in a video would twist her hand as she glided her hand up and down, and you decided to try the motion.

Hongjoong hissed out a curse at the new movement. “That feels good.” His hips bucked up a little, pushing his cock up in your hand.

Feeling a little braver, you leaned forward to press your lips on the head of his cock, kissing it and feeling heat surge to your core at how warm the tip was against your lips.

Hongjoong lifted his head from its thrown back position to look at you, the sudden sensation of your soft lips on his cock turning him on further.

“You want to try that already?” He asked, his hand gripping the armrest of the couch when your doe eyes looked up at him so innocently, your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, and nodded, it was driving him crazy. It was getting harder and harder to retain any sense of composure. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Show me what you learned. You’re already doing so well. You look so cute like this too.”

His words of praise and compliments made both your heart and core throb. It made you try even harder to please him. You wondered if it was okay that you were getting wet. You could feel your slick sticking to the gusset of your panties and against the lips of your pussy.

Hongjoong moaned softly when he felt your hot tongue swirling around his cock head. He twitched within your hand continued their rhythmic twisting and up and down rhythm. He watched as you tasted him. He could see the way your brows furrowed at the taste and when he felt you take more of him in your mouth and suckle at the sensitive tip of his cock, you were making it harder for him to not buck his hips up into your pretty mouth.

“You doing okay?” He asked, gently placing his hand behind the back of your head, caressing you.

You nodded, humming, the vibrations of your sound adding some extra pleasure to the way you were giving him head.

“F-fuck, you’re doing so good, sweetheart. Such a good girl.”

The way he said that made your pussy clench. Why did that have some effect on you? It sounded so hot coming from him and it made you want to please him even more.

Eventually, you took what you could of him in your mouth, fighting back your gag reflex and bobbing your head shallowly along his cock. Your hand continued to jerk what you couldn’t fit of his length in your little mouth. You were aching so bad, you couldn’t help but let your free hand slide between your thighs to find your pussy, surprised at how wet you were. It was easy to spread your arousal all over your cunt and begin massaging your clit the way you liked, settling for the friction of your fingers.

Hongjoong noticed your dainty hand between your legs. The sight of you suckling and bobbing your cute head up and down along his cock, and touching yourself was sending him to the edge. Plus your lips tinted with pink gloss were mixing with your saliva as you continued to suck him off. You were so fucking cute.

“I’m close darling. You’re doing so well. You had nothing to be so nervous about. F-fuck.” He shuddered when he felt the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and you squeaked so adorably, the sound muffled. What a cute little slut you were touching yourself as you stuffed your little mouth with his cock. Though he was saying such sweet praises, deep down he wanted to fuck his cock into your mouth and watch you cry from taking him. He was betting you’d look up at him with wide pleading eyes with tears as you let him use you as his personal cock sleeve.

The mere thought of that sent him over the edge and without warning, he came. A small squeak left you as sudden hot spurts of cum spilled into your mouth. You latched off of him in surprise, your hand still pumping him as he came. His moans and the way his head was thrown back, made you stop touching yourself so you could focus fully on the way he climaxed all over your face.

“Fuck!” He groaned as his hand that was cradling your head gripped your hair and his hips bucked up into your hand, riding out his high. You whimpered as he tugged at your hair, the sensation making your clit throb. Why did that feel good? Why did having his release on your cheeks and in your mouth, turned you on?

“Open up, darling. Let me see.” Hongjoong tugged your hair back almost forcibly, his gaze almost predatory, it scared you a bit. You’ve never seen such a dark, menacing yet charming expression on your sweet and kind professor.

You parted your lips and he smirked.

He wondered if you knew just how cute and ruined your look right now. Pink gloss smeared over your lips and your cheeks flushed and stained with his white sticky cum, and the best of all, his seed was on your tongue.

He wished he could take a picture.

You didn’t realize you were breathing slowly as your heart was racing and he stared down at you with a glint in his eye that you couldn’t quite place.

“You look so pretty like this, darling.” His grip on your hair loosened and his hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb dipping into your mouth as you still obediently kept your lips parted for him. He smeared more of his cum all over your lips and chin, finding the idea of him on your skin so hot…it’s like he marked you. “Such a good girl.” He cooed and you didn’t know why you did what you did but you swallowed his salty release, and his reaction made it all worth it. “What a perfect girl you are.”

His praise only made your heart flutter, his words only feeding that part of you that wanted to please him…to please Wooyoung.

“D-do you think Woo will like it?” You asked, your voice a little hoarse as you sat there on your knees, looking up at him so sweetly.

Hongjoong held back from rolling his eyes at the mention of the boy who didn’t deserve you. He masked his annoyance with a smile. “He’ll like it, darling. You did really well. I mean it.” He took his handkerchief and began to clean you up, gently dabbing your cheek.

Despite the ache between your thighs, you couldn’t stop the way a smile grew on your face at the approval from your most trusted mentor.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Kim—

“Hongjoong.” He cut you off with a gentle smile, looking at you lovingly.

“What?” You stuttered that same feeling you felt earlier, the confusion of the same way he made your heart flutter like Wooyoung does.

“You can call me Hongjoong when it’s just the two of us, darling. I think with how close we’ve gotten…I’d like you to call me by my name. Don’t you think we’re rather close?”

There was something about his eyes that captivated you. It was so magnetic it was hard to not be completely wonderstruck and in control of that powerful gaze.

All you could do was nod.

“That’s a good girl…” he cooed, smiling warmly. “Perhaps, you need more guidance. You want to be a good girlfriend for your Wooyoung right?”

You did, you wanted to be the best girlfriend for him.

“I do…”

“Sometimes what you see online is not entirely reliable. I’m offering you…private lessons…doesn’t that sound good for you?”

You nodded, letting him pull you up on and onto his lap, gasping when your core pressed against his thigh.

“I’ll teach you all there is to know. I want what's best for you and for you to know exactly what you’re getting into.” He ran his hand up and down your thigh, slowly. “You don’t want to disappoint Wooyoung, right?”

“I don’t Sir…” you said so quickly.

So innocent. So naive. So dumb. So perfect for him to ruin.

He never thought he’d get to this point.

All this time, he has only ever admired you and desired you from afar. He kept his reputation as a well-loved and kind professor so that no one and you, especially you, would ever question his motives.

“Now, I think we should try this again. You did really well but I can teach you a little extra something that will make your boyfriend so, so, so happy.”

feel free to scream in my askbox about the fic I will gladly fangirl with you and I love feedback. It keeps me writing.

special tags : @khjcs @skteezcursed @caityelise99

[enhasntty]

Swish, I'm in Love - NRK

pairing: nishimura riki x f!reader summary: Riki Nishimura, a cocky basketball star, falls for the quiet girl who ignores his charm. Through hilarious missteps and awkward confessions, he fumbles his way into her heart. warnings: Kissing, Riki's friends make jokes that some people may be sensitive to, Riki tries flirting (a lot) but fails most of the time. genre: Fluff, Highschool romance wc: 19124 note: let me know if I missed any warnings likes and reblogs are very much appreciated

The Encounter

The hallway was its usual self-chaotic and buzzing with the chatter of students heading to their next class. You were walking at your usual pace, headphones in, deep in thought as you mentally prepared for the day ahead. The last thing you expected was to be caught in a collision of bodies in the middle of the hallway.

“Whoa!”

You bumped into someone, sending a few papers flying out of your bag. You quickly bent down to pick them up, not even bothering to glance up at the person you’d collided with. You were more focused on saving your notes than on apologizing for the accidental bump.

“Hey, you good?” came a familiar voice, filled with that cocky tone you knew all too well.

It was Riki, the basketball star everyone fawned over. His voice had this self-assuredness to it, and judging by the reactions of others whenever he walked down the hall, he had a reputation. He was the guy who always had a crowd of people around him, but you couldn’t care less.

You nodded, as you continued picking up the papers. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh, careful next time.”

Riki blinked, clearly thrown off. Most people would’ve been all over him-squealing, apologizing, or even blushing. But you? You just acted like nothing happened. Like he wasn’t some godsend the school adored.

As you finished gathering your papers, you glanced up at him for the first time. And when you did, you gave him a small, casual smile-just enough to acknowledge him without making it anything special.

It wasn’t a flirtatious smile. It wasn’t anything overly friendly either. It was just… a smile. But to Riki, it was as if the world had slowed down. He felt his chest tighten and his mind race.

He swallowed.

“Whoa,” he muttered under his breath, staring at you. “Did she just… smile at me?”

His friends had started walking up behind him, no doubt noticing the intensity in his gaze. They all exchanged a few confused glances as they watched Riki stand there, practically frozen.

“Bro,” Jay called out, breaking his trance. “You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Riki shook his head, trying to snap out of it, but the image of your smile was burned into his mind. He turned to his friends and said, “No, no. You don’t get it. That smile… it was different. It was the one. It’s-” He paused, trying to get his words together. “It’s like love at first sight.”

His friends stared at him, deadpan.

“What?” Jake asked, narrowing his eyes. “You’re serious? Dude, you’re delusional.”

“No, listen,” Riki continued, now pacing, clearly ignoring their sarcasm. “She didn’t act like every other girl. She didn’t freak out or go all blushy when she saw me. She didn’t act starstruck. She’s different. She gets me.”

Heeseung rubbed his temples. “Bro, you’re definitely on something. You ran into her, and she just gave you a smile. That’s not love at first sight, that’s just you being dramatic.”

Riki wasn’t hearing any of it. “No, you don’t understand. I’m telling you, I’m in love with her. And I’m gonna make her my queen.”

Jay snorted. “My queen? Are we in some medieval romance movie now? C’mon, man, be for real.”

But Riki was unwavering. “I’m serious. I’m going to make her fall for me. I just… I know it. She’s the one.”

Sunoo, leaning against the lockers, smirked. “Dude, you’re acting like you just found the Holy Grail or something. She Doesn't even know you.”

Riki waved off their teasing. “Doesn’t matter. I’m going to win her over. You’ll see.”

Meanwhile, you, in the background, had no clue what was happening. You picked up your bag, checked your papers, and continued walking, headphones back in your ears. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice Riki-he was hard to miss-but honestly? You couldn’t have cared less. To you, he was just another student who thought he was the main character of his own movie.

Riki, however, stood there, still in his thoughts. He felt like he’d just witnessed something cosmic. Your smile had done something to him-made him believe, for the first time, that maybe he wasn’t just the guy who could score three-pointers, but that he was capable of… love.

His friends followed him down the hall, still ribbing him for his newfound “obsession.”

“So, what’s the plan now?” Sunghoon asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Are you going to serenade her in the middle of the cafeteria or what?”

Riki smirked, clearly not phased. “You’ll see. I’m going big. She won’t know what hit her. I’m going full king of hearts mode.”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, good luck with that. You’re like the least subtle person I know.”

“Hey,” Riki said, “if I’m gonna go for it, I’m going all in. No half-measures.”

Jay sighed, shaking his head. “This is gonna be a disaster, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” Sunoo added, grinning. “But I’ll be here for the show.”

As Riki walked away, a small, satisfied grin spread across his face. He was sure of it. There was no way a girl like you would be able to resist him for long. After all, he had that charm. And if there was one thing Riki knew, it was how to get what he wanted.

Meanwhile, you made your way to your next class, completely unaware of Riki’s newfound mission-a mission he was about to turn into the most entertaining disaster of your high school life.

The Obsession Begins

At school, Riki spotted you by your locker again, headphones on as usual. He adjusted his backpack, ran a hand through his hair, and sauntered over like he hadn’t spent the entire morning rehearsing what to say.

“Hey.”

You didn’t look up.

Riki cleared his throat. “Hey,” he said louder, leaning against the lockers in what he hoped was a cool, casual way.

You finally glanced up, pulling one headphone out. “Do you need something?”

Riki’s brain short-circuited. He had spent hours planning a witty response, but all he managed to say was, “Nice book.”

You blinked, looking at the plain black cover of your notebook. “It’s a math textbook.”

“Oh, uh… yeah, I knew that,” Riki said quickly. “I love math. Big fan.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? What’s the quadratic formula?”

Riki froze.

“Exactly,” you said, putting your headphones back in.

From across the hallway, Heeseung and Jake were watching the exchange unfold.

“He’s crashing and burning,” Jake whispered.

“I give him points for effort,” Heeseung said, shaking his head.

Later that day, Riki’s friends gathered around him during lunch to debrief his latest failure.

“You said you were gonna play it cool,” Jungwon said, popping a grape into his mouth.

“I was playing it cool,” Riki insisted.

“You called her math book ‘nice,’” Sunghoon deadpanned.

Jake nearly spit out his drink. “You really told her you’re a math fan? Bro, even I know that’s a red flag.”

“It’s not a red flag!” Riki said defensively. “I just panicked.”

Sunoo smirked. “I think she has the mental upper hand, and you don’t know how to deal with it.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means you’re whipped, and she doesn’t even know it,” Heeseung said, patting him on the back.

Riki buried his face in his hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Oh, we’re way past embarrassing,” Sunoo said. “But don’t worry, we’re here to make sure you keep embarrassing yourself.”

“Supportive as ever,” Riki muttered.

Meanwhile, at your table, your friends were having a very different conversation.

“Riki was staring at you this morning,” Julie said, doodling on her notebook.

“I think he was trying to flirt,” Karina added, scrolling through her phone.

You frowned. “That’s not flirting.”

“Oh, sweetie, it was flirting,” Giselle said, pulling her headphones off. “Awful flirting, but flirting nonetheless.”

“I don’t get it,” you said, biting into your sandwich. “Why would he even bother?”

“Because he’s into you,” Julie said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Into me? He doesn’t even know me.”

“That’s probably why he’s into you,” Karina said with a grin. “You’re, like, the one person in this school who doesn’t worship the ground he walks on. He’s confused, and now he’s spiraling.”

Giselle snorted. “It’s giving ‘golden retriever chasing a cat.’”

“Exactly!” Julie said, clapping her hands. “And you’re the cat.”

“Great. I’m being compared to an animal,” you said dryly.

Karina leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “But admit it. It’s kinda fun watching him squirm, isn’t it?”

You smirked, not bothering to answer.

Riki wasn’t done for the day.

He had a plan-a bold, risky plan that could either win you over or completely backfire.

“Are you sure about this?” Heeseung asked as they stood outside the library.

“Yes,” Riki said firmly, holding up a small folded note. “This is foolproof.”

“Your definition of foolproof worries me,” Jungwon muttered.

“It’s just a note,” Riki said. “How hard can it be?”

The note in question was a piece of lined paper on which Riki had written a short (and in his opinion, very clever) message:

Hey. You dropped this: 🖤

– Riki

The plan was simple. He would walk past you, drop the note on your desk, and walk away like a cool, mysterious guy.

“You look like you’re delivering a ransom letter,” Sunoo said as they watched him sneak into the library.

“Shut up,” Riki hissed.

You were sitting at a table in the back of the library, headphones on, completely absorbed in your book. Riki took a deep breath, walked up to your table, and slid the note across to you.

Then, instead of walking away like he planned, he froze.

You looked up, noticing him standing there. Slowly, you picked up the note and read it.

“You dropped this?” you said, holding up the paper.

“Uh… yeah,” Riki said.

“I was sitting here the whole time.”

“Oh, uh, right. I meant to say I dropped it. And you… picked it up. Metaphorically.”

You squinted at him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” Riki said, his voice cracking.

You glanced at the note again. “What does this even mean?”

“It means, uh…” Riki paused, searching for an explanation. “It means… you’re cool. Like, you dropped your coolness, and I wanted to give it back to you.”

Your lips twitched as if you were trying not to laugh. “Right.”

“I’ll just… go now,” Riki said, turning on his heel and speed-walking out of the library.

“What happened?” Sunghoon asked when Riki returned to his friends.

“She didn’t laugh me out of the room, so… progress?” Riki said.

Sunoo shook his head. “You’re like a baby giraffe trying to learn how to walk.”

Back in the library, you were still holding the note, a small smile tugging at your lips. You didn’t know what Riki was trying to do, but you had to admit-it was kind of amusing.

And maybe, just maybe, a little endearing.

The Unintended Slip

Riki wasn’t one to give up easily. Sure, you’d shot him down twice now, but in his mind, that just meant he needed to step up his game. If you weren’t going to swoon over his basketball skills or mysterious notes, he’d have to get creative.

Enter: Operation Study Buddy.

Riki barged into the cafeteria, plopping down at the usual table where his friends were mid-meal. “Okay, guys, I need a new strategy.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking like this is a business pitch.”

“It is a business pitch-except instead of closing a deal, I’m closing the distance to her heart,” Riki said, dramatically clutching his chest.

Jake nearly choked on his water. “Did you actually just say that?”

“Focus, guys,” Riki said, leaning forward. “She’s smart, right? Always reading or doing something intellectual. So, I’m gonna ask her to help me study for our next math quiz.”

“Bold move, considering you thought the quadratic formula was a type of shampoo,” Sunoo said, smirking.

“Hey, everyone struggles in their own way!” Riki shot back.

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “You think she’ll buy it?”

“She will,” Riki said confidently. Then, after a pause: “I just need to act dumb enough that she won’t suspect anything.”

Jungwon snorted. “That won’t be acting.”

By the time math class rolled around, Riki was ready. He spotted you sitting in your usual seat by the window, scribbling in your notebook. Taking a deep breath, he walked over and sat down in the desk next to yours.

You glanced up, eyebrows raised. “You’re sitting here now?”

“Yeah,” Riki said casually. “Thought I’d mix it up. Plus, I, uh… need your help.”

You tilted your head. “With?”

“Math,” he said, trying to look as clueless as possible. “You’re good at it, right?”

You stared at him for a moment, as if deciding whether he was serious. “What’s the problem?”

Riki pulled out his textbook, flipping to a random page. “This. I don’t get it.”

You leaned over to look, and Riki suddenly realized how close you were. He could smell the faint hint of your shampoo, something floral and light, and his brain momentarily short-circuited.

“This is literally multiplication,” you said, snapping him out of it.

“Yeah, uh, it’s been a while,” Riki said, scratching the back of his neck. “You know how it is-letters, numbers… it’s confusing.”

You gave him a look. “Riki, the problem is 8 x 9.”

“…Right. And the answer is…” He trailed off, waiting for you to fill in the blank.

You sighed. “72.”

“Of course! That’s what I was gonna say,” Riki said quickly.

You sat back, clearly unimpressed. “Do you actually need help, or is this some kind of elaborate excuse to sit here?”

Riki froze, caught red-handed. “I… uh… well…”

Before he could answer, the teacher walked in, saving him from further embarrassment.

Later that day, Riki regrouped with his friends.

“She saw right through me,” he groaned, slumping against his locker.

“To be fair, your acting skills are about as subtle as a neon sign,” Jake said.

“I’m starting to think she’s too smart for me,” Riki admitted.

Sunoo snickered. “Oh, we’ve all been thinking that.”

“Shut up,” Riki muttered.

“You just need to find something that’ll catch her off guard,” Jungwon suggested.

“Like what?”

Sunghoon smirked. “I don’t know, man. Maybe stop being so obvious. Or at least try to flirt without sounding like a confused toddler.”

“I’m great at flirting!” Riki protested.

“Are you, though?” Heeseung said, raising an eyebrow.

Riki rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. What do you suggest?”

“Say something bold. Catch her attention,” Jake said. “Like, I don’t know-‘Hey, do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?’”

“That’s cheesy as hell,” Sunoo said, wrinkling his nose.

“But it’s memorable,” Jake argued.

“I’m not using a pick-up line,” Riki said firmly.

“Then what?” Sunghoon asked.

“I’ll figure it out,” Riki said, though he wasn’t entirely sure he believed himself.

The next day, Riki decided to go for a different approach: casual conversation.

He spotted you in the library during lunch, headphones on as usual. Steeling himself, he walked over and sat across from you.

You looked up, surprised. “Do you not have friends to eat with?”

Riki grinned. “I do, but I figured I’d grace you with my company today.”

“How generous,” you said dryly.

“So, what are you working on?” he asked, leaning forward.

“An essay,” you said simply, turning back to your laptop.

“What’s it about?”

“Why sitting across from loud basketball players is a distraction,” you deadpanned.

Riki laughed, leaning back in his chair. “You’re funny, you know that?”

“I wasn’t joking,” you said, though there was a hint of amusement in your tone.

He rested his chin on his hand, studying you. “Do you ever smile?”

You looked up again, raising an eyebrow. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Not really,” Riki admitted, grinning.

You sighed, shaking your head. “Why are you even here?”

“I like talking to you,” he said honestly.

You blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Why?”

“Because you’re different,” Riki said with a shrug. “You don’t laugh at my jokes or pretend to be impressed by everything I do. It’s refreshing.”

You stared at him for a moment, then went back to your essay. “Well, if you’re going to sit here, at least be quiet.”

“Can’t promise that,” Riki said, smirking.

When Riki returned to his friends later, he was in a suspiciously good mood.

“Did something happen?” Heeseung asked.

“Yeah,” Riki said, grinning. “I think I made progress.”

Sunoo rolled his eyes. “You mean you annoyed her until she gave up?”

“No, I had a real conversation with her,” Riki said.

“What’d you talk about?” Jake asked.

“Mostly how much I talk,” Riki admitted.

“So… nothing?” Sunghoon said.

“Hey, it’s progress,” Riki said defensively. “She didn’t tell me to leave.”

“That’s the bar now?” Sunoo said, smirking.

“Baby steps,” Riki said, leaning back with a satisfied smile.

Back at your table, your friends were equally curious.

“So, what’s the deal with Riki sitting with you in the library?” Karina asked, leaning across the table.

“Yeah, did he say something dumb again?” Giselle added.

You shrugged. “He said he likes talking to me.”

Julie gasped. “That’s so cute!”

“It’s weird,” you said, though your tone lacked conviction.

“It’s cute,” Julie insisted.

Karina smirked. “I think he’s growing on you.”

“He’s like a mosquito,” you muttered. “Annoying but persistent.”

Giselle snorted. “Yeah, but at least this mosquito is kind of hot.”

“Kind of?” Julie said, giggling. “He’s basically everyone’s crush.”

“Not mine,” you said quickly.

“Sure, sure,” Karina said, smirking. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The Art Of Embarrassment

Riki Nishimura was used to being good at things-basketball, charming people, and existing in general. But somehow, you had turned him into a walking disaster. It was like his brain short-circuited every time you were in a five-foot radius.

Today, he decided he would try something new. No elaborate plans. No fake study sessions. Just pure, unfiltered Riki.

Spoiler alert: it was a terrible idea.

It started in the cafeteria during lunch. You were sitting with your friends as usual, laughing at something Julie said. Riki watched from across the room, trying to figure out how to approach you.

“Dude, stop staring,” Jake said, nudging him.

“I’m not staring,” Riki said, not breaking eye contact.

“You’ve been staring so hard I’m surprised she hasn’t felt it and filed a restraining order,” Sunghoon said, biting into his sandwich.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Riki said, ignoring them. ���I’m gonna walk up to her table and just… talk. Like a normal person.”

Sunoo snorted. “You? A normal person? Bold of you to assume.”

Riki stood up, ignoring the chorus of snickers from his friends. He was determined.

But as he crossed the cafeteria, disaster struck.

He was walking past a table when someone stuck their leg out, probably as a joke. Riki didn’t see it until it was too late.

One moment, he was confidently striding toward you. The next, he was flat on the floor, his tray of food flying into the air in a perfect arc.

It all happened in slow motion. His spaghetti landed directly on his head, and his juice spilled all over his shirt. A chorus of gasps and laughter erupted around the cafeteria.

“Oh my God,” Sunoo whispered from their table, already pulling out his phone.

Riki scrambled to his feet, spaghetti dangling off his hair like some cursed garnish. He looked around, his face burning, only to see you staring at him with wide eyes.

For a moment, the entire cafeteria was silent. Then, someone from the back shouted, “Nice save, bro!” and the laughter resumed.

Riki grabbed a napkin, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity. “It’s fine! Totally fine!” he said, though his voice cracked halfway through.

You, to his utter shock, were trying not to laugh. You hid your smile behind your hand, but he caught it. And even though he was mortified, he felt a tiny spark of triumph.

“Legendary,” Heeseung said later, slapping Riki on the back as they regrouped in the locker room.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Riki muttered, throwing his juice-stained shirt into his locker.

“Bro, you’re trending on Snapchat,” Jake said, holding up his phone.

Riki groaned. “I hate all of you.”

“To be fair, it’s not our fault you fell like a cartoon character,” Sunoo said, smirking.

“Shut up,” Riki snapped. “At least she laughed.”

“She laughed at you,” Jungwon corrected.

“Still counts,” Riki said stubbornly.

Meanwhile, you and your friends were dissecting the incident at your table.

“I cannot believe that just happened,” Karina said, wiping tears from her eyes. “He looked like a human spaghetti plate.”

“Poor guy,” Julie said, though she was smiling too. “He’s never gonna live that down.”

Giselle smirked. “He’s got balls, though. I mean, he still tried to act cool after all that.”

You shook your head, still amused. “He’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

Karina leaned closer, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’re kind of enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You shrugged, but you couldn’t deny it. Something about Riki’s clumsy attempts to get your attention was… endearing.

Later that day, Riki decided to try again. He wasn’t going to let one humiliating moment define him. He spotted you by your locker and mustered up all the courage he had left.

“Hey,” he said, leaning casually against the locker next to yours.

You looked up, immediately noticing the faint red stain on his shirt. “You missed a spot.”

Riki glanced down, groaning. “Oh, come on. I thought I got it all.”

You chuckled softly, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

“So, uh, about earlier…” he started, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What about it?” you asked, closing your locker.

“That wasn’t, like, my best moment,” he admitted.

“No kidding,” you said, smirking.

Riki grinned, appreciating your bluntness. “But, you know, I think it’s a sign.”

“A sign of what?”

“That we’re destined to be friends,” he said, winking.

You rolled your eyes. “Destined, huh? Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Absolutely,” Riki said, leaning closer. “You can’t fight fate, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that your way of saying you’re going to keep bothering me?”

“Pretty much,” Riki admitted, grinning.

You shook your head, but you couldn’t hide the small smile on your lips. “Fine. But if you trip and fall again, I’m not helping you up.”

“Deal,” Riki said, his grin widening.

Back with his friends, Riki was practically glowing.

“She smiled at me,” he announced, plopping down at their table.

“Are we supposed to clap?” Sunoo said.

“Laugh all you want,” Riki said smugly. “I’m making progress.”

Jake shook his head. “At this rate, you’ll win her over by graduation.”

“That’s the plan,” Riki said, grabbing a fry from Sunghoon’s plate.

Sunghoon smacked his hand away. “If you touch my food again, fate won’t save you.”

“Noted,” Riki said, still smiling.

At your table, Karina was eyeing you suspiciously.

“You’re smiling again,” she said.

“No, I’m not,” you said quickly.

“You totally are,” Julie said. “What did Riki say to you?”

“Nothing important,” you said, though the small smile lingered.

Giselle smirked. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

Karina leaned closer. “Admit it. You think he’s cute.”

“Yeah, like a puppy that keeps running into walls,” you said, but your friends could tell you weren’t entirely joking.

And maybe, just maybe, neither were you.

The Failed Love Letter

Riki Nishimura had a reputation to maintain. Star basketball player, charmingly chaotic, and apparently, a complete disaster when it came to you. After the cafeteria spaghetti fiasco, he decided it was time to go old-school. No elaborate stunts or public humiliation. Just heartfelt honesty in the form of a love letter.

Unfortunately for Riki, heartfelt honesty wasn’t his strong suit.

“‘To the radiant moon of my dull, dark sky…’” Jay read aloud, squinting at the paper in his hand. He looked up, his face scrunched in disbelief. “Riki, what the hell is this?”

“It’s poetic!” Riki said defensively, snatching the paper back.

“It’s something, all right,” Jake chimed in, holding back a laugh. “Are you writing a love letter or auditioning for a Shakespearean play?”

Riki groaned, flopping onto Jay’s bed. “I don’t know, okay? I’m trying to be romantic.”

Jay snorted. “There’s a difference between romantic and… whatever this is.”

“‘The thought of you haunts my every waking moment,’” Jake read over Jay’s shoulder, cackling. “Bro, she’s gonna think you’re a serial killer.”

Riki sat up, glaring at them. “I thought you guys were supposed to be helping me!”

“We are,” Jay said, crossing his arms. “By stopping you from embarrassing yourself even more.”

Jake nodded. “Yeah, no offense, but if you give her this, she’s gonna laugh. Like, a lot.”

Riki groaned again, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. What do you suggest?”

Jay grabbed a pen, sitting down next to him. “For starters, tone it down. You’re not Edward Cullen.”

Jake smirked. “Unless you’re planning to sparkle in the sunlight.”

“Can we focus?” Riki snapped, snatching the pen.

Jay and Jake leaned in, watching as Riki rewrote the letter.

“Okay, how about this: ‘Hey, I just wanted to say you’re really cool, and I like hanging out with you.’”

Jake blinked. “That’s it? That’s boring.”

“Yeah, where’s the charm?” Jay added.

Riki groaned for the third time that afternoon. “I can’t win with you guys!”

The final version of the letter ended up being a mix of dramatic flair and casual sincerity. Riki, satisfied with his work, slipped it into your locker the next morning before anyone could talk him out of it.

Later that day, you found the letter while grabbing your books. The envelope was plain, but your name was written on it in slightly messy handwriting. Curious, you opened it.

“‘To the brightest star in my universe,’” you read quietly to yourself, already stifling a laugh. “‘Every time I see you, my heart does this weird thing-like it’s trying to breakdance but forgot how.’”

You couldn’t help it; a small giggle escaped.

Your friends noticed immediately.

“What’s so funny?” Karina asked, leaning over to look.

You quickly folded the letter and slipped it into your bag. “Nothing.”

“Oh, come on,” Giselle said, smirking. “That smile says it’s definitely something.”

“Who’s it from?” Julie asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“No one important,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

But your friends weren’t buying it.

Across the hallway, Riki was watching from a safe distance. He could see you smiling, and though he couldn’t hear what you were saying, he took it as a good sign.

“Dude, she’s laughing,” Sunghoon said, nudging him.

“Yeah, but not in a mean way,” Jake added. “She looks… happy?”

“I told you it was a good idea,” Riki said, grinning.

“Sure, but let’s not forget the part where you almost called her the ‘ethereal goddess of your dreams,’” Jay said, rolling his eyes.

“Details,” Riki said, waving him off.

The next day, Riki was determined to act casual. You hadn’t mentioned the letter, but you didn’t seem mad or weirded out, so he considered that a win.

But of course, his streak of bad luck continued.

During gym class, you and your friends were sitting on the bleachers, watching as the boys played basketball. Riki, eager to impress, decided to show off a little.

Big mistake.

He went for a fancy dunk, leaping high into the air. For a moment, it looked perfect-until his foot slipped on the landing.

He crashed to the floor, arms and legs flailing like a cartoon character. The ball bounced off his head with a loud thunk, and the entire gym erupted into laughter.

From the bleachers, you couldn’t help but laugh too. It was just so… Riki.

He sat up, rubbing his head, and spotted you laughing. Despite the pain and embarrassment, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Smooth,” Sunoo said as he helped Riki up. “Really smooth.”

“Shut up,” Riki muttered, though his cheeks were burning.

Later, you ran into Riki in the hallway.

“Nice fall,” you said, smirking.

Riki groaned. “You saw that, huh?”

“Hard to miss,” you said, your smirk widening. “But it was entertaining.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Glad I could amuse you.”

You hesitated for a moment, then reached into your bag and pulled out the letter. “By the way, this was… sweet. A little dramatic, but sweet.”

Riki’s eyes widened. “You kept it?”

“Yeah,” you said, shrugging. “It made me laugh. In a good way.”

Riki grinned, his confidence returning. “So, does that mean you like me now?”

You rolled your eyes, though you were smiling. “Don’t push your luck, spaghetti boy.”

As you walked away, Riki couldn’t stop smiling.

The Secret Love Potion

After Riki’s very public fall, his confidence had taken a slight hit, but he wasn’t about to let it stop him. He had come too far-he’d written a love letter (okay, a little over the top), he’d made you laugh (even if it was at his expense), and he’d managed to get a bit of a smile out of you. Progress was being made.

But how could he keep it going? He needed a new plan.

Riki sat at the lunch table with his usual crew: Heeseung, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jake, and, of course, Jay, who was doing his best to ignore the absurdity of the situation.

“So, what’s the move today, Riki?” Heeseung asked, tapping his chopsticks against the table.

Riki sighed dramatically. “I need to do something big. Something that’ll make her see that I’m… I’m different.”

“You mean not a disaster?” Jake said, smirking.

Riki shot him a look. “Shut up. No. Something romantic. Something that’ll sweep her off her feet.”

“Like a flash mob?” Sunghoon asked, grinning.

“Not that romantic,” Riki said, shaking his head.

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Well, you did write her a letter. You could always, you know, try talking to her next.”

“Yeah, that worked out so well last time,” Riki muttered, thinking about the spaghetti incident.

“Okay, listen.” Sunoo leaned forward, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “I heard from my sister that girls love stuff like flowers and chocolates. So, why not do that?”

Riki looked at him like he’d just suggested he go skydiving without a parachute. “Flowers and chocolates? You’re joking, right?”

“Not at all, bro,” Sunoo said, shaking his head. “It’s classic. You can’t go wrong with that.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jake said, holding up his hands. “We’re in 2025, not the 1950s.”

“I’m not even trying to say I’m in love with her yet. I’m just trying to get her attention without looking like a complete idiot,” Riki said.

“You sure about that?” Sunghoon asked. “Because you’ve pretty much been a walking disaster in front of her so far.”

Riki gave him a look, but Sunghoon was right. He was already overthinking it. He needed something to make you notice him, something that would stand out, something unique.

And then it hit him.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait,” Riki said, his eyes lighting up. “What if I make a potion?”

Jay stared at him. “A potion? You mean, like, a love potion?”

“Exactly!” Riki said, his face lighting up. “It’s genius! I’ll make this super mysterious drink with all kinds of weird ingredients, like herbs and… I don’t know, whatever sounds romantic. I’ll hand it to her, and she’ll be so intrigued by it, she’ll have to notice me!”

Sunghoon blinked. “Riki, that’s… the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

But the more Riki thought about it, the more it made sense. This wasn’t just any random bottle of juice-it was going to be a potion. A mysterious potion that no one had ever seen before. He’d make it sound like he was a mad scientist in the kitchen.

“Dude, you’re really setting yourself up for failure,” Jake said, shaking his head.

Riki grinned. “Exactly. I’m going big or going home. It’s all part of the plan. She’ll be so fascinated by me that she’ll have no choice but to fall in love.”

“Is that how this works?” Jay asked, eyeing him skeptically.

“Of course it is!” Riki said, standing up with newfound determination. “I’m going to make the most epic, mysterious potion ever.”

And so, with that, Riki set off on his journey to create what he now believed would be the ultimate love potion.

The next day, Riki arrived at school with a bag full of strange, unidentifiable ingredients. His friends watched as he walked past them, a look of excitement on his face.

“What is that?” Heeseung asked, narrowing his eyes.

Riki grinned. “I’m going to make the perfect potion. This is gonna be legendary.”

“Okay, but you’re not trying to drug her, right?” Jake asked, his voice full of concern.

“What? No! No, it’s just gonna be a weird drink that she won’t be able to resist.”

“You’re really digging yourself into a hole here, dude,” Sunghoon muttered.

During lunch, Riki found you at your usual spot. You were sitting with Karina, Giselle, and Julie, talking about something you all found funny.

Riki tried to act casual as he walked over, though the bag in his hand gave him away.

“Hey,” he said, his voice unnervingly loud. “I’ve got something for you.”

You turned, raising an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

“It’s a potion,” Riki said, grinning like a mad scientist. “A love potion. Totally mysterious. You’ll love it.”

You looked at the bag. “A potion? Really?”

“Yeah!” Riki said, pulling out a small glass bottle that looked like it belonged in a mad scientist’s lab. Inside was a bubbling purple liquid, with what appeared to be floating herbs and glitter.

You tried to hide your amusement. “Uh, okay… What’s it supposed to do?”

“It’ll make you… um… fall in love with me,” Riki said, with far too much enthusiasm.

Your eyes widened. “You want me to drink that?”

“Yeah! It’s totally safe,” he said, though it was clear he had no idea what he’d actually made.

You couldn’t help it. You burst out laughing. “Riki, this is insane.”

But you took the bottle from him anyway. “I’ll take it,” you said with a smile, “but don’t expect me to fall in love with you because of this.”

Riki beamed. “It’s worth a shot, right?”

As you walked away, you tried to hold in your giggles. The potion was definitely the most ridiculous thing Riki had ever done, but it was kind of cute. You could tell he’d put a lot of effort into it-even if it was a total failure.

That afternoon, you showed your friends the bottle, and they all had a good laugh at Riki’s expense.

“I swear, he’s got to be delusional,” Karina said, eyeing the potion. “But, like, in the best way.”

“You should definitely keep it as a souvenir,” Giselle said, raising an eyebrow. “It’ll be hilarious to bring up later.”

Julie smirked. “Maybe you can actually drink it and see what happens.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.

Meanwhile, Riki sat with his friends, eagerly waiting for any word from you.

“So, uh, did she drink it?” Jake asked.

“No,” Riki said, deflating a little. “But she took it, so that’s something.”

“You’ve got a better chance with her if you just, you know, talk to her like a normal human being,” Heeseung said.

But Riki wasn’t listening. As far as he was concerned, this potion was his ticket to success.

As the day ended, you threw the potion in your bag, secretly touched by Riki’s effort, but fully aware of how ridiculous the whole thing was.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Maybe Riki was a bit of a disaster, but he was also kind of charming in his own, chaotic way.

The Unintentional Date

Riki’s love potion-while the perfect display of his desperation-wasn’t exactly the magical breakthrough he had hoped for. But that didn’t deter him. If anything, he was more determined to win you over, now that he’d officially made a fool of himself.

The next morning, as Riki was heading to class, he saw you at your locker. You were looking through your bag, completely unaware of the impending chaos that was about to unfold.

Riki decided to make his move.

“Hey, you!” he called out, giving his signature awkward-but-trying-to-be-cool grin.

You turned, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, hey, Riki. What’s up?”

“Uh, not much. Just-” He paused for dramatic effect, trying to look calm, but failing miserably. “Just wanted to see how the potion worked for you last night.”

You blinked at him for a moment. “The potion?”

He nodded, his expression too serious for the situation. “Yeah, you know, the love potion.”

You snorted. “Oh right, the one that looks like it came straight out of a mad scientist’s basement?”

Riki winced. “It’s… it’s a special recipe.”

“Oh, I can tell,” you said, trying not to laugh. “I haven’t drunk it yet, but I did keep it as a reminder of how creative you are.”

He smiled, clearly proud of himself. “I knew you’d keep it. You know, it’s a one-of-a-kind potion. It’s got… uh… special ingredients.”

“What kind of ingredients?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Riki looked around nervously, as if trying to remember what he’d actually put in the potion. “Uh, a secret blend of… um… lavender, honey, and… a dash of, like… magic?”

“Magic,” you repeated, deadpan. “That’s totally reassuring.”

“I mean, yeah. Magic is always part of the equation, right?” Riki shrugged, clearly grasping at straws.

Before you could respond, Heeseung appeared behind him. “Riki, you’ve got a huge glob of chocolate syrup on your shirt,” he said, pointing.

Riki glanced down at his shirt in panic. There, right in the center of his chest, was a sticky blotch of chocolate sauce.

“What?!” he exclaimed. “Where did that-”

You couldn’t hold it in any longer. You burst out laughing, and Heeseung did the same.

“Nice,” you said, still laughing. “Looks like you’re really sweeping me off my feet with that shirt.”

Riki groaned, swiping at the mess with his sleeve, only making it worse.

“Did you steal the chocolate syrup from the cafeteria again?” Heeseung asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Shut up, it’s… I’m not stealing!” Riki said, looking utterly defeated.

As if on cue, Sunghoon walked by, shaking his head. “You’re a walking disaster, man.”

“Thanks for the support, guys,” Riki muttered, still trying to wipe the chocolate off.

“Honestly,” you said, trying to stifle your laughter, “I think I’ll just drink the potion now. Maybe it’ll fix your whole ‘hot mess’ thing.”

Riki stared at you in horror. “Wait, what?!”

You flashed him a mischievous grin. “Just kidding. But you do look like you need some kind of miracle.”

Riki looked like he might die on the spot, but somehow, he managed to give you a crooked grin. “Yeah, guess I do.”

Later that day, Riki, still trying to salvage what little dignity he had left, decided to take a different approach. He’d seen the school was having a “Karaoke Night” for the senior class, and he figured that if he could sing something ridiculous in front of everyone-especially you-it would definitely get your attention.

The problem? Riki couldn’t sing. Not even a little bit.

But did that stop him? Absolutely not.

That afternoon, he spent hours researching “romantic songs” on his phone, hoping to pick the one that would absolutely sweep you off your feet. His friend group, of course, was less than supportive.

“You’re really doing this?” Sunghoon asked, facepalming. “Riki, you’re tone-deaf.”

“I’m not tone-deaf,” Riki argued, crossing his arms. “I have an amazing voice. Trust me.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been singing in the shower for years, and we can still hear you across the hall.”

“Yeah, bro. You sound like a cat being strangled,” Sunghoon added.

“Thanks for the confidence boost, guys,” Riki muttered. “But I’m doing this. For her.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Heeseung said, tapping him on the shoulder. “You might need a backup plan… like, a good excuse for why you completely butcher the song.”

Riki grinned. “I’m gonna do this. You’ll see.”

That evening, Karaoke Night arrived, and the gymnasium was buzzing with energy. The lights were dimmed, the stage was set up, and students were taking turns picking songs from the cheesy setlist.

Riki, with a mix of nervousness and determination, stepped up to the mic, the crowd falling silent as he grabbed it with shaky hands. You were sitting with your friends near the back, watching with amused expressions.

“What’s he doing?” Karina asked, eyebrow raised.

“I think he’s about to make a fool of himself,” Giselle said, already bracing for impact.

Julie grinned. “I can’t wait for this.”

Riki adjusted the mic, then announced, “I’m gonna sing ‘I Will Always Love You’ by Whitney Houston.”

The crowd gasped, and you did your best to hold in your laughter.

You could already imagine how this was going to go.

The music started, and Riki-bless his heart-sang the first line with full, unfiltered enthusiasm.

But instead of hitting any of the notes correctly, he sounded like a dying walrus. His voice cracked at all the wrong times, and he missed the high notes entirely. The audience went silent for a moment before everyone burst out laughing.

From the back, you could hear Heeseung shout, “God, Riki, you’ve ruined this song for generations!”

Riki, completely undeterred, kept going. His confidence was through the roof-despite how much of a disaster it was turning into.

“Riki, please,” Sunghoon shouted from the back, “we’re begging you to stop!”

But Riki was in it now. He was not backing down. He finished the song with as much gusto as he could muster, ending with an off-key, completely butchered high note.

The gym erupted into applause-but not for the quality of the performance.

Riki walked off the stage, out of breath, and completely humiliated. He gave a half-hearted wave to the crowd and sat back down at his table.

“I’m going to die,” he muttered, burying his face in his hands.

You couldn’t help yourself. You were laughing so hard that you could barely breathe.

“Nice job, Riki,” you called out, still laughing. “You really… um, sang your heart out.”

He looked up, red-faced and defeated. “Please, just tell me you didn’t think that was horrible.”

You wiped away tears of laughter and gave him a soft smile. “Okay, I’ll be honest. It was awful. But, like, in the best way possible.”

Riki blinked. “What?”

“You know,” you said, shrugging, “it was so bad that it was actually kind of… impressive. Like a car crash you can’t look away from.”

He groaned, slumping in his seat. “I’m never doing that again.”

But you noticed the faintest smile on his face, and for some reason, it made everything feel a little less embarrassing. Maybe there was hope for Riki after all.

Riki's Poetic Disaster

The classroom buzzed with the sound of chairs scraping the floor and low murmurs as your small poetry club prepared for its weekly meeting. You sat in your usual spot, notebook open, fingers lightly tapping your pen as you waited for your turn to present. It was your favorite place, a peaceful escape from the chaos of school.

That peace, however, was shattered when the classroom door burst open.

Riki swaggered in like he was about to perform at a sold-out stadium, not join a poetry club meeting. His varsity jacket was slung over his shoulder, and he looked around the room with a grin that screamed I’m about to change your life.

Giselle leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Oh no. He’s Shakespeare-ing his way into embarrassment, I can feel it.”

You sighed, bracing yourself. “What is he doing here?”

Riki spotted you and immediately lit up like a neon sign. “Yo!” he called, waving with both hands as though you were on opposite ends of a football field. “This the poetry thing?”

The entire room turned to look at him, a mix of amusement and disbelief on their faces. After all, Riki had once loudly declared in English class that “books are just fancy napkins with words” and “poetry is for sad people with nothing better to do.”

“Yep, he’s officially lost it,” Karina muttered from the other side of the room.

Riki walked up to the front of the room, all confident. “Hey, uh, I’m Riki. Some of you might know me as the star of our basketball team-no autographs, please. But today, I’m here to…uh, you know, embrace art and stuff.”

You blinked. “Why are you here?”

He winked. “I’m here to support you, obviously. And, uh, to share my gift with the world.”

“Your…gift?”

“Yeah,” Riki said, completely serious. “Poetry. I wrote a poem. It’s deep. You’re gonna love it.”

The club stared at him, stunned. Finally, the president of the club, a quiet senior named Mina, gestured for him to go ahead. “Well…we’d love to hear it.”

Riki cleared his throat, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. He unfolded it with the precision of someone unveiling the Mona Lisa.

“This,” he began, “is called ‘Love is Like Basketball.’”

Giselle buried her face in her hands. Karina groaned audibly.

Riki began, his voice overly dramatic and far too loud for the small room:

“Love is like basketball.

You gotta dribble through life,

but sometimes…

the ball hits you in the face.

And that ball?

That’s you.

You’re the ball.

And I’m…the player.”

Sunoo, who had somehow slipped into the back of the room to spectate, muttered, “This is physically painful.”

Riki continued, oblivious:

“I shoot my shot,

and sometimes I miss.

But then I rebound,

because love is all about…

rebounds.

Also, you’re hot like the sun,

but cool like water.

And that’s why I like you.

End poem.”

The room was dead silent. Somewhere outside, a bird squawked, as if protesting the tragedy that had just unfolded.

Giselle whispered, “I’m in physical pain. I think I’m getting secondhand embarrassment hives.”

Riki, completely unaware, smiled proudly and folded his paper. “What’d you think?” he asked, looking directly at you.

You blinked at him, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or stage an intervention. “Uh…it’s…unique?”

“Right?” He grinned wider. “I’m basically the next Shakespeare.”

“That was worse than the time you tried to rap during gym class,” Karina said, shaking her head.

“Hey, that rap had bars,” Riki shot back.

Giselle smirked. “Bars? That poem had potholes.”

Riki ignored her, his confidence unwavering. “I put my heart into that, okay? And I wrote it for you.” He pointed at you, completely serious. “So…what do you think? Be honest.”

You couldn’t help it-you burst out laughing. You laughed so hard your stomach hurt, and tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

Riki’s grin faltered. “Wait, are you laughing at me?”

“Riki,” you said, finally catching your breath, “that was the worst poem I’ve ever heard. But…thank you.”

He perked up. “Wait, so you liked it?”

“No,” you said, still laughing. “But I appreciate the effort.”

Sunoo leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head. “Man, she just told you your love poem is trash, and you’re still smiling. That’s commitment.”

Riki shrugged, his grin returning. “Hey, at least she laughed. That’s a win in my book.”

“You don’t even like books,” Giselle reminded him.

“Shut up, Giselle.”

As the meeting wrapped up, you couldn’t stop smiling. Riki’s poem might’ve been terrible, but his effort wasn’t lost on you.

Maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than his over-the-top confidence. And judging by the way he looked at you, he wasn’t planning on giving up anytime soon.

The Unfortunate Art Class

It was one of those days where everything that could possibly go wrong would go wrong, and for Riki, it was a day where his attempts to woo you went from embarrassing to downright disastrous. It all started in art class.

Riki had been practicing his sketching-well, more like pretending to practice-while thinking about how he could impress you next. He’d tried singing (and failed), created a disastrous potion (also a failure), and now, he figured, it was time to move on to something different: art.

“Yeah, I’m a man of many talents,” Riki muttered to himself, casually flicking his pencil across his notebook. He’d signed up for art class, mostly because it was a “chill” subject and because he knew you would be in there. You were always so effortlessly cool while sketching, and Riki thought that maybe, just maybe, if he could draw something beautiful, you’d finally take him seriously.

It was a flawless plan, in theory.

Except for the fact that he was absolutely terrible at drawing.

As you walked into the room, Riki immediately straightened up, trying to act casual while pretending to concentrate on the absolute mess of a sketch he was working on. It looked like someone had thrown a bunch of spaghetti at the paper and then tried to pass it off as “modern art.”

You glanced over at him. “What’s that supposed to be, Riki?”

Riki froze, his pencil hovering over the page. He glanced at his work and then back at you, trying to cover up the chaos he’d created. “Uh, it’s… it’s a modern interpretation of… love?”

You squinted at the scribbles, unsure whether he was being serious or if this was another one of his random, ridiculous attempts to impress you. “A modern interpretation of love?” you asked, not hiding your amusement. “It looks like a blob of mashed potatoes got into a fight with a pencil.”

“Excuse you,” Riki said, puffing out his chest. “It’s abstract.”

“Oh, I see,” you said, nodding, “I didn’t realize ‘abstract’ meant ‘I-don’t-know-how-to-draw-a-stick-figure’.”

Riki groaned, his face turning bright red. “It’s art, okay? You wouldn’t get it.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to get it,” you said with a teasing smile. “I’ve got better things to do than trying to decode your spaghetti disaster.”

Riki sat back in his seat, sulking, and that’s when his art teacher, Mr. Han, walked up to inspect his work.

“Ah, Riki,” Mr. Han said, adjusting his glasses and peering at the page. “Interesting… piece.”

“Thanks, Mr. Han,” Riki said, looking proud for a second, before Mr. Han continued.

“It’s… very… unique.”

Riki’s smile faltered. “Is that a good thing?”

“Well,” Mr. Han said slowly, “the concept is ambitious, but I think you might want to, you know, work on making things… recognizable?”

Riki’s face fell. “Okay, okay, but it’s modern, Mr. Han. It’s supposed to be about the chaos of love.”

Mr. Han raised an eyebrow. “Sure, but love’s supposed to be nice, not this. I think you’re looking for a different kind of love.”

And with that, he walked off, leaving Riki to stew in his misery.

“See? Told you,” you said from across the room, still chuckling under your breath.

“Shut up,” Riki muttered, throwing his pencil down in frustration. “It’s harder than it looks, okay?”

You shrugged, grinning. “Well, if this is your idea of love, I think I’d rather be single.”

Riki slumped in his chair. “Yeah, well, I’m sure you’d love that.”

As the class went on, Riki couldn’t help but sneak glances at you while pretending to concentrate on his new abstract “art.” He kept thinking of ways to get you to notice him, to actually like him. The potion was a bust, the karaoke disaster still haunted him, and his art was more of a crime scene than anything else.

But then, like a bolt of inspiration, it hit him. He didn’t need to be good at drawing. He didn’t even need to be good at singing. What if he just pretended to be good at something else? Something you liked?

That’s when he saw it-on the shelf near the back of the room. The most perfect thing he’d ever laid eyes on: the class’s art supplies. Specifically, a pack of colored markers. He quickly grabbed one, then another, and another, all while ignoring Mr. Han’s suspicious gaze.

“I’m going to do it,” he whispered to himself, suddenly determined. “I’m going to draw her the most beautiful picture she’s ever seen.”

Thirty minutes later, Riki proudly presented his latest masterpiece to you. He walked over to your desk, a big grin on his face. “Ta-da!”

You looked at the picture, then looked back up at him, and tried to hide your reaction. Riki had drawn what could only be described as… a stick figure of you, holding a giant heart with “I <3 U” scrawled inside it. Around you, Riki had drawn himself, in what he considered a romantic pose, though it mostly looked like he was having a seizure.

You blinked, trying to process what you were looking at. “Riki…”

He watched eagerly, his eyes wide. “What do you think? I’m going to call it ‘Love in Motion’.”

Your eyes flicked from the picture to Riki’s hopeful expression. “It’s… well, it’s certainly… something.”

Riki’s smile faltered. “Something good?”

“No, definitely something,” you said, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “It’s the most abstract thing I’ve ever seen. I didn’t realize you were such an avant-garde artist.”

Riki let out a dramatic sigh. “Great. You don’t get it again.”

“But hey, at least you didn’t include mashed potatoes this time,” you said, still chuckling under your breath.

“That’s it, I’m done!” Riki snapped, storming away from your desk.

“Come back! I’ll keep it!” you called out, still smiling. “You might need to work on the anatomy, though.”

After class, as Riki was leaving with his defeated art supplies, he caught up with his friends.

“Dude, what was that? Did you just draw her a stick figure of you two?” Jake asked, holding his stomach from laughing so hard.

“It’s called art, okay?” Riki muttered. “It’s supposed to be deep.”

Sunghoon, who had been walking behind him, raised an eyebrow. “The only thing deep about that is your delusion.”

Riki groaned, his shoulders sagging. “Why does she have to be so… perfect? I keep trying everything and it’s just not working.”

“You’re trying too hard, man,” Heeseung said, slapping him on the back. “Maybe you should just chill out a bit and be yourself.”

“Yeah, because ‘myself’ is an artless, tone-deaf disaster who can’t draw a stick figure right,” Riki said bitterly.

“You’re a work in progress, that’s for sure,” Sunghoon added.

Meanwhile, you were walking with your friends, holding onto the “art” Riki had given you. You glanced at it one last time and grinned.

“You know what?” Karina said. “That might just be the worst thing I’ve ever seen, but I kinda think it’s sweet.”

“I think it’s cute that he keeps trying,” Giselle agreed. “He’s a mess, but at least he’s trying.”

“Yeah,” you said with a soft smile, “but you’ve got to admit, his failures are kinda entertaining.”

Julie raised an eyebrow. “But what if you did give him a chance?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Maybe. But for now, I’m having too much fun watching him crash and burn.”

The Desperate Measures

Riki had hit rock bottom.

He was no longer just the awkward, cringe-worthy guy trying to impress you with grand gestures. Now, he had become… desperate. Desperate to the point where he was willing to go behind your back and ask your friends for advice-terrible, absolutely terrible advice, which he took way too seriously.

It all started one afternoon during lunch. You were sitting with your friends, Karina, Giselle, and Julie, chatting and laughing about some random school gossip. Riki, seated at a table nearby with his basketball crew, could not stop staring at you. Every time you laughed or smiled, it felt like a small dagger to his heart-but in a good way-because, you know, he was in love.

But this was it. He was done. He couldn’t keep pretending to be casual about it. He needed a real plan. He needed help.

After a few minutes of overthinking, Riki made up his mind. He could already imagine how amazing things could be if he just figured out how to get you to like him back. His friends had tried to help, but every time he took their advice, he ended up making things worse. This time, he was going straight to the source: your friends.

He’d seen Karina, Giselle, and Julie talking to you during lunch, so he mustered up all the courage he had and casually walked over to their table. He cleared his throat dramatically.

“Hey, ladies,” he said with a grin that looked more like a nervous twitch. “What’s up?”

Karina raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, hey Riki. Didn’t know you were interested in joining our table.”

“I wasn’t,” Riki replied, a little too quickly. “I just need… uh… some advice. About her.” He nodded towards you, trying to be discreet.

Giselle smirked, clearly knowing exactly what he meant. “Oh, you mean Y/N?”

“Yes,” Riki said, clearly desperate. “How do I… get her to like me?”

There was a moment of silence as the three girls exchanged amused glances. They were all fully aware of Riki’s crush on you, and each one of them had been watching his attempts from the sidelines, laughing and waiting for the inevitable failure. But now that Riki was asking them for help, they were more than ready to give him advice.

Julie leaned forward, her voice low but full of mischief. “Well, Riki,” she began, “the thing is, you’ve gotta show her that you’re different from the other guys. You know, stand out in a way that makes her think you’re… special.”

“Oh, totally,” Riki said, nodding eagerly. “I can do that.”

Karina chimed in next. “Also, be unpredictable. You know, surprise her. Do something she won’t see coming. Maybe like, I don’t know… show up to class with a puppy or something.”

“Wait, a puppy?” Riki asked, confused. “Like, you’re saying I should just-”

“Yeah,” Karina interrupted, leaning back in her seat. “It works every time. Who could resist a cute dog? I mean, think about it. You walk into the room with a puppy, and she’ll melt. Instant win.”

Riki’s eyes lit up. “A puppy… right. Got it.”

“Also,” Giselle added, “don’t forget to be mysterious. Like, when you talk to her, keep it vague. Don’t reveal everything about yourself all at once. Make her curious.”

Riki took notes in his mind. “Mysterious, yes. Vague. Keep her guessing.”

Julie winked. “And don’t forget to compliment her, like, all the time. But make it subtle, you know? Like, I like your vibe or you’re different from everyone else. Keep it casual. Don’t sound desperate, even if you are.”

Riki nodded so furiously he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Right. Keep it casual. Subtle compliments.”

“And most importantly,” Karina said, her voice suddenly turning more serious, “don’t let her see you sweat. Even if everything’s going horribly wrong, just act like it’s no big deal.”

Riki took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “Okay. Okay, I can do this. I’ll do everything you said. Thanks, guys.”

As he walked away, he was practically glowing with optimism, as if this was the breakthrough he’d been waiting for. What could possibly go wrong?

Later that afternoon, Riki put his plan into action. He had managed to convince his cousin to lend him a tiny puppy (who was far too energetic for Riki’s lack of experience with animals), and he had every intention of marching into your class with that puppy in tow. He had his compliments prepared, his mysterious vibes ready, and his subtle confidence locked and loaded.

He walked to your classroom, puppy in hand, his heart pounding in his chest. The puppy squirmed in his arms, clearly not impressed with Riki’s handling skills, but he was too focused on you to notice. He entered the classroom and immediately caught your attention.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, trying to sound cool but still managing to squeak a little. “Look what I got.”

You looked up from your seat and blinked. “Uh, what’s that?”

Riki proudly held up the puppy. “A puppy. I thought it’d be a fun surprise.” He flashed a grin, trying to channel his best “mysterious” energy.

You looked at the puppy for a moment before looking back at Riki, your expression unreadable. “Why are you showing me this?”

Riki’s smile faltered for a second, but he quickly recovered. “Because, you know, puppies make people happy. And I thought… I thought you’d like it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You got a puppy for me?”

“Yeah,” Riki said, still grinning, but now it was starting to feel forced. “Just, you know, to show I care. And that I’m different.”

You stared at him for a moment, clearly confused, before glancing at the puppy again. “Well, it’s cute, I guess. But, uh, where’s the rest of it?”

Riki blinked. “What?”

“You know,” you said, deadpan, “usually when people get puppies, there’s like, a point to it. Like, you’re adopting it. Or… giving it away. Are you just borrowing this puppy for a vibe check or…?”

Riki froze. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Uh…” He turned the puppy around and tried to make it do something cute, but the puppy only managed to chew on his sleeve. “Well… yeah, I mean, I just thought I’d bring it by. You know, to impress you.”

“Impress me with a dog?” you asked, looking genuinely perplexed. “That’s… a first.”

Riki’s face turned bright red. He wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. This was nothing like what he’d imagined. He could hear his friends’ advice echoing in his mind: Make her think you’re special… Keep it mysterious… Compliment her subtly.

Instead, here he was, holding an unruly puppy that was completely sabotaging his “plan.”

“Uh, Riki,” you said, breaking the awkward silence, “I gotta go. Maybe next time you try impressing me, you could leave the puppy with its owner and just, I don’t know, talk to me like a normal person.”

Riki stood there, watching you walk away, the puppy tugging at his sleeve like it, too, was trying to escape.

Later that evening, Riki found himself sitting in his room, utterly defeated. He had tried everything. The puppy was a disaster. His mysterious vibe was nonexistent. And when he’d tried to compliment you earlier, it had come out as awkward rambling.

But what hurt the most? The lies his friends had told him.

“I thought a puppy would be enough to impress her,” he muttered to himself, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t get it.”

The Game-Changing Disaster

Riki had spent the entire week psyching himself up for this moment. It was the biggest basketball game of the season, and everyone was talking about it. The energy in the gymnasium was electric, and the entire school was buzzing with excitement. All eyes were on Riki, the star player of the team, and he was determined to use this opportunity to finally, finally impress you.

He had it all planned out. He wasn’t just going to play well-no, no, no. He was going to dedicate his performance to you, and in doing so, he would show you how much he cared. This would be the moment where everything would fall into place. All those awkward attempts, the puppy fiasco, the art class embarrassment-it would all be worth it once he made you notice him in the most epic way possible.

The game had started, and Riki was already in the zone. He was running up and down the court, weaving between his teammates and opponents, effortlessly sinking shots and making assists. The crowd roared in approval, chanting his name. He was on fire. This was his time to shine. The only thing left was to make sure you saw it all.

As the game went on, Riki began scanning the crowd, looking for you. He spotted Karina and Giselle waving their hands frantically from the bleachers, but that wasn’t what he was focused on. No, his eyes were locked on you-sitting in the third row, looking effortlessly cool with your friends, totally unaware of the storm of emotions Riki was experiencing from the court.

His heart skipped a beat. This was it. This was his big moment. He could feel the weight of the ball in his hands, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. As he dribbled past an opponent and took a quick glance at the crowd to make sure you were watching, he had an epiphany: he would dedicate this final shot to you.

“I’m gonna do it. I’m going to win this for her,” Riki whispered to himself, a smile creeping onto his face. “She’ll see. She’ll finally see how much I care.”

The clock was ticking down, and Riki could feel the heat of the game intensifying. The score was close, and the final seconds were approaching. His teammates passed him the ball, and he was wide open for a shot. This was the moment.

As he dribbled toward the basket, Riki suddenly had the thought of you in his mind. He could almost hear the crowd cheering for him, but all he could focus on was you. This is for you, he thought as he took the jump shot.

And that’s when it happened.

Right as Riki was soaring through the air, preparing to make the perfect shot, his gaze shifted back toward you in the stands-just in time to see you laughing with your friends. Why is she laughing? What’s so funny?

And that was the fatal mistake.

In his distraction, Riki misjudged his footing. He stumbled mid-air, his legs flailing wildly as he lost control of his balance. The crowd went silent for a moment as they watched Riki completely biff it mid-court. In one glorious second, he went from being the hero to the clumsiest guy on the court.

Riki’s foot caught on the floor, and with a loud thud, he crashed onto the hardwood, his body sprawled out in a full-on disaster pose. The ball, meanwhile, ricocheted off the backboard with the precision of a rock skipping across a lake, missing the hoop entirely and landing at the feet of a very confused player from the other team.

For a brief moment, there was a stunned silence in the gym. Everyone, including Riki, seemed to be in shock. His teammates stood frozen, and even the opposing team stopped mid-play.

Riki slowly pushed himself up from the floor, his face redder than a tomato. His heart was pounding, and he felt like crawling into a hole and staying there forever. The gym slowly erupted into laughter, and he couldn’t tell whether they were laughing with him or at him-he suspected the latter.

“Riki!” one of his teammates, Jake, shouted in disbelief. “What the hell was that?!”

Riki just groaned, clutching his forehead in embarrassment. “I… I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he muttered, utterly defeated.

From the bleachers, Karina, Giselle, and Julie burst into laughter. “I knew he’d mess it up,” Karina laughed, nudging Giselle.

“I didn’t think he’d do it this spectacularly, though,” Giselle added. “At least he can’t blame the puppy this time.”

Riki was too mortified to even respond, his mind still stuck on that disastrous fall. He was supposed to be impressing you, not doing an impromptu audition for a slapstick comedy show. He couldn’t even face you, especially after you’d probably seen the entire thing unfold.

But then, as he stood up, trying to salvage some shred of dignity, he heard the sound of someone clicking a camera.

“Hold up,” a voice called out from behind him. It was Sunghoon, his ever-sarcastic teammate. “I think I got a shot.”

Riki turned around, his eyes wide with horror. “Sunghoon, no.”

“Oh yeah, I got this for sure,” Sunghoon said, flipping his phone in his hands. “This is gold.” He held up his phone, showing Riki the photo-an image of Riki in mid-fall, mouth wide open, and arms flailing in a way that could only be described as pure chaos.

Riki’s face went pale. “Are you serious?” he asked, horrified.

“I’m not just serious,” Sunghoon said, grinning. “This is my new favorite thing to pull up whenever you start acting all cocky about your skills.”

“No, Sunghoon, don’t you dare-”

But it was too late. Sunghoon already had a plan in mind. “You can’t be mad at me when this is priceless. If you ever try to pretend you’re a smooth operator again, I’ll be pulling this up on my Instagram story.”

Riki’s stomach dropped. He could already imagine the comments: “Riki the basketball pro, more like Riki the human trampoline”, or “When you try to impress someone but end up impressing the floor instead”.

As the game continued, Riki couldn’t focus. He was too embarrassed to even think straight. His team managed to win the game despite his epic fail, but he couldn’t find any joy in the victory. Instead, he was consumed by one thought: How could he make it up to you after this disaster?

After the game, Riki sulked back to the locker room, avoiding his teammates’ teasing and pretending to focus on changing into his regular clothes. But he couldn’t stop thinking about you. What had you thought when you saw him crash like that? Was he still embarrassing? Was there any chance he could salvage what little dignity he had left?

And then, his phone buzzed.

It was a notification from Instagram. He opened it up, and his heart sank.

There it was-the photo that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Sunghoon had uploaded it, complete with a hilarious caption.

Riki groaned and buried his face in his hands. He knew that he would never live it down.

School Festival Chaos

The school festival was a legendary event every year-one of those days where the entire school came together to put on extravagant booths, games, and performances. The air was thick with the smell of food, the laughter of students, and the constant hum of excitement as people rushed from one event to the next. This was the day Riki had been waiting for.

The day he would finally win you a prize.

Riki had spent the past hour going from one booth to another, determined to prove to you that he was capable of doing something right for once. He had so many chances to impress you-so many games to win, so many prizes to grab. But despite his best efforts, he kept coming up short.

At the first booth, he tried to win a stuffed bear by throwing darts at balloons. Simple, right? Well, apparently not for Riki, whose aim was so off that he might as well have been throwing the darts with his eyes closed. The booth attendant was trying to hide their smirk as they handed him a consolation prize: a tiny rubber spider.

“Great,” Riki muttered, clutching the spider like it was the most embarrassing thing he’d ever touched. “Perfect for impressing Y/N.”

At the next booth, it was a ring toss, and this time, he was determined. The objective was simple-get the ring on the bottle, win a prize. It was foolproof. That is, until Riki threw the first ring, which somehow flew over the booth, narrowly missing someone’s head and landing in the bushes.

He stared at the ring as if it had betrayed him. I swear, I’m getting closer each time, he thought, trying to maintain his optimism.

After several failed attempts, he walked away from the booth defeated, feeling like a man who had lost his dignity in the process. But no! He couldn’t give up now! He had to keep trying. He had to show you he could win something, anything.

Meanwhile, you had been watching from the sidelines with your friends-Karina, Giselle, and Julie-amused by Riki’s increasingly desperate attempts.

“Is Riki… trying to win prizes for you?” Karina asked with a raised eyebrow, a teasing grin on her face.

Giselle snorted. “He’s been at it for, like, an hour. I thought this was supposed to be easy for him.”

Julie chuckled. “I don’t know, I’m just here for the chaos. This is honestly better than the game last week.”

You, however, couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. Sure, it was funny, but it was also kind of cute in its own way. It wasn’t every day that someone was this determined to impress you.

Riki finally stumbled over to a prize booth that seemed like it was perfect for him: a giant basketball hoop toss. The sign promised a grand prize-an oversized plush lion. And you had mentioned before how much you loved lions.

This is it, Riki thought. This is my moment. She’ll finally be impressed. I can do this.

He stepped up to the booth, the prize looming large in his mind. His hands were shaking with nerves as he grabbed the basketball. It wasn’t a real one, of course, just one of those cheap foam balls you could get at a carnival, but Riki didn’t care. He was already envisioning himself handing you the giant lion, your face lighting up in admiration.

With a deep breath, he tossed the ball.

It missed the hoop entirely.

Riki groaned and let his shoulders slump. He watched in horror as the ball bounced off the edge and rolled across the floor, completely out of his reach.

“Nice try!” the booth attendant called out with forced enthusiasm. “Would you like to try again?”

Riki waved them off, his spirit broken. “No, I think I’ve had enough for today.”

From across the way, you saw Riki standing at the booth, looking absolutely defeated. Despite his continuous failures, you couldn’t help but smile. It was hard not to appreciate his effort. It was like he was trying so hard that it had become almost endearing-almost.

“Riki’s been at this for ages,” Giselle commented, watching him walk away from the booth, dejected. “This is gonna be a disaster if he keeps at it.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation. “It’s like he’s determined to impress me, but in the worst way possible.”

Karina shot you a playful look. “Maybe you should help him out.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Help him? With that? He’s got this.”

But then you thought about it for a second. He was clearly trying so hard. And although he was failing miserably, you could see the genuine intent behind it.

“You know what?” you said, standing up. “Maybe I’ll show him how it’s done.”

You walked over to the same booth Riki had just left, where the attendant gave you a casual smile as you approached.

“Hey, what’s up?” they said. “You looking to win a big prize?”

“Yeah,” you replied with a smile, “I’ll give it a shot.”

Riki, who had been walking in the opposite direction, noticed you standing at the booth, ready to give it a go. His heart immediately started racing. What was this? You? Playing the basketball hoop toss? He couldn’t believe it.

This is going to be embarrassing, he thought. If she wins, it’ll be like rubbing salt in the wound.

But then something surprising happened.

You grabbed the foam basketball and made your first shot. It swooshed perfectly through the hoop.

Riki froze. “No way.”

You grabbed the ball again. Shot two. Swish.

His jaw dropped. “Wait, what?!”

You continued, effortlessly making shot after shot, as if you had been practicing for this exact moment. In just a few seconds, you had hit the required number of successful shots, and the attendant handed you the giant lion plush.

Riki stood there, stunned.

“Uh, well,” you said with a smirk as you approached him, the massive lion in your hands. “Guess you need to work on your aim a little more, huh?”

Riki could only blink, a mix of shock and admiration on his face. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You… you really just did that.”

You handed him the lion with a grin. “I figured it was the least I could do after watching you fail so many times.”

He took the lion from you, blushing deeply, feeling like the biggest fool on the planet. “I… I thought I could get it for you. You know, so you could be impressed with me.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I am impressed, just not for the reasons you think.”

Riki’s blush deepened as he hugged the oversized plush to his chest, too embarrassed to look you in the eye. “Thanks. I don’t deserve this… but thank you.”

You smiled warmly at him. “It’s nothing, really. You were trying so hard, Riki. That counts for something.”

Riki stood there, holding the giant lion in his arms, his mind completely overwhelmed by how much he cared about you-and how much he wanted to make you proud. Maybe he wasn’t perfect, but at least he was trying, and he was getting closer to impressing you, even if it wasn’t the way he expected.

Later that day, as the festival continued, Riki’s friends couldn’t help but tease him about what had happened.

“I knew you were gonna lose,” Jake said, snickering.

But Riki just laughed along with them, holding the giant lion proudly. “Yeah, yeah. I guess it wasn’t meant to be. But hey, at least she won me a prize.”

His friends gave him a knowing look, but he didn’t care. He was content just knowing that you had finally noticed him.

Confessions Gone Wrong

It had been a few days since the school festival disaster, and Riki had barely been able to think of anything else. Despite his epic failures, there was one thing that kept him going-you. He’d been replaying the whole day over and over in his head, and it hit him like a ton of bricks: he had feelings for you. Big, gigantic, overwhelming feelings.

Now, he had to tell you.

It was time to confess.

Riki sat in the cafeteria, fidgeting nervously with his hands. His mind was racing a mile a minute. What if you said no? What if it was super awkward? What if you laughed in his face? He didn’t know why he thought confessing was a good idea in the first place. It was way too risky. But no, he couldn’t chicken out. He had to do this.

His friends, however, seemed to have other ideas.

“You got this, man,” Heeseung said, clapping Riki on the back. “Just be straight with her. Say something like, ‘I like you.’”

“Yeah, man,” Jake added, leaning in from the side. “Don’t overthink it. Just… do it.”

Riki stared at them blankly. “You guys don’t understand. I’m not just telling her I like her, I’m… I’m confessing. This is big. This is… important.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “Is this like, a romantic confession or more of a ‘I’d like to take you to dinner sometime but also I might die of embarrassment in the process’ type of deal?”

“It’s… both,” Riki mumbled, his mind swirling in confusion. “I don’t know, I just-”

“You know what would really work?” Jay interrupted, his voice suddenly deadly serious. “You gotta be like, ‘I don’t know what’s happening between us, but I just can’t stop thinking about you.’ You know, make it sound deep. Like you’ve been contemplating it.”

“Yeah, like you’re having an existential crisis about it,” Sunghoon chimed in. “Like, ‘I’m not sure if I’m alive or just existing without you.’ It’ll make her swoon for sure.”

Riki’s face turned crimson. “What? No, that’s way too much! I just want to say something simple!”

“Fine, fine, okay,” Heeseung said, shrugging. “Here’s the thing, bro: when in doubt, just make it funny. Humor is everything. You don’t want to come off too serious, like you’re trying too hard, right?”

“That’s true, but also, you gotta act confident,” Jake added. “Like, you’re the catch here, you know? Show her that you are the one who should be adored.”

“Got it,” Riki said, though he was starting to feel more overwhelmed than before. “Just be funny and confident. Easy.”

After what felt like an eternity of pep talks from his friends, Riki finally spotted you sitting at your usual table, chatting with Karina and Giselle. He took a deep breath, straightened his back, and made his way over to your table, trying his hardest to look cool. His heart was pounding, and his palms were sweaty. This was it-he was finally going to confess.

As he approached, your friends gave him a knowing look, but you remained completely unaware of what was coming.

“Hey, Y/N,” Riki greeted, standing awkwardly in front of your table, his fingers twitching nervously. “Can I, uh, talk to you for a sec?”

You looked up, your expression warm and friendly. “Sure, what’s up?”

Riki cleared his throat, trying to appear calm. “Okay, so, um… this is a bit hard for me to say, but… I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and…”

And then, just as he was about to continue, he felt the eyes of his friends boring into him from across the cafeteria.

“Say something smooth!” Heeseung mouthed from behind you, giving him an exaggerated thumbs-up.

“Don’t mess up!” Sunghoon whispered, and Riki swore he saw him holding up a fake phone to his ear like he was recording it for blackmail.

His heart rate picked up, and in the middle of the intense pressure, he completely forgot the smooth, confident line he’d planned. Instead, all that came out of his mouth was:

“Do you wanna, like… hang sometime?”

Your expression didn’t change, and Riki was already bracing himself for the awkward silence when-

“No, wait! I mean, bang…! I mean-!” Riki slapped his hand over his mouth immediately, realizing what he had just said. He blinked, stunned by his own words, and then the horror set in. He had just asked you-asked you to hang-and then he accidentally blurted out bang?!

You stared at him, your eyes wide in shock, and then… you burst out laughing. It was a genuine laugh, the kind that made Riki’s face burn with embarrassment.

“You… you want to-what?!” you gasped between laughs, clutching your stomach. “Did you just-”

“No! No, I meant hang out!” Riki sputtered, shaking his head frantically. “I swear, I didn’t mean to say that! I’m-Oh my God, this is so embarrassing…”

“Did you just..bang?” Karina asked, unable to hold in her laughter, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Riki, are you asking Y/N to… what, exactly?”

Riki wanted to die right there. This was it. This was his confession. He had just managed to make a fool of himself in front of you in the worst way possible.

“Bro, you gotta stop digging,” Jake said, face-palming from across the cafeteria. “This is like watching a slow-motion train wreck.”

Your laughter died down, but you still had a grin on your face as you wiped away the tears from your eyes. “I… okay. You really know how to make a confession memorable, I’ll give you that.”

Riki stared at you, trying to process what had just happened. “I swear, I didn’t mean that. I was just trying to say something simple and-”

“Yeah, you definitely kept it simple,” you teased, giving him a playful wink. “I think this is the most creative confession I’ve ever heard.”

Riki buried his face in his hands. “Oh my God, I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Honestly?” you said, leaning back in your chair, looking far too amused for Riki’s liking. “I think I’d rather hang out with you than bang...”

“You’re killing me here,” Riki groaned, his face bright red. “I swear, I’m going to die from secondhand embarrassment.”

But you just smiled, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “It’s okay, Riki. I get it. You’re nervous. You can always try again… just, you know, without the ‘bang’ part.”

“Yeah, bro,” Sunghoon piped up from behind, clearly enjoying every moment. “You gotta learn how to do this without sounding like a walking disaster.”

You turned to your friends, still chuckling. “Honestly, though, I think this is the best confession I’ve gotten all week.”

Riki raised his head and gave you a weak smile. “Well, at least it’s memorable.”

“You’re telling me,” you quipped. “In fact, this might just go down in history as the most awkward confession of all time. But hey, at least you didn’t say something worse, right?”

Riki wanted to die, but at the same time… he didn’t. Despite the awkwardness, despite his humiliation, there was something about the way you were teasing him-playfully, not mean-spirited-that made him feel like he might actually have a chance.

Later, as Riki trudged back to his friends, who were all practically rolling on the floor in laughter, he couldn’t help but smile through his embarrassment. At least you didn’t hate him. Maybe, just maybe, he had a shot at getting it right next time.

The Panic Panic

It was another regular school day-well, as regular as a school day could be when Riki was still trying to recover from his disastrous confession. He was walking to class, still embarrassed, but at least he was trying to act like nothing happened. His friends kept bringing it up every chance they got, but for the most part, Riki had learned to laugh it off… well, at least he pretended to laugh it off.

You, however, were always on his mind. It was impossible not to think about how cute you were when you laughed at his confession. It wasn’t mean, just funny in a way that made him feel a little less terrible. Plus, he loved how you didn’t seem to mind his blunders, and honestly, that made him want to impress you even more.

That afternoon, as Riki was sitting at lunch with his friends, he noticed Julie staring at him with a mischievous grin on her face. She was sitting with you, Karina, and Giselle at the table, clearly plotting something.

“Hey, Riki,” Julie said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You know, I’ve been thinking… Y/N really deserves someone special, don’t you think?”

Riki froze, his heart skipping a beat. “Uh… yeah?”

“Yeah!” Julie said enthusiastically. “But you know, she might need a real man, you know? Someone who actually knows how to talk to her and doesn’t mess up their confessions in the most cringe-worthy way possible.” She smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Riki could feel his face heating up. “Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

Julie winked. “Well, the whole bang thing was a little… memorable. But don’t worry! Maybe I should just set her up with someone else, someone who could actually sweep her off her feet.” She leaned back in her chair, giving Riki a teasing look. “What do you think? Should I hook her up with, like, Sunghoon or someone? He does know how to talk to girls.”

Riki’s eyes widened in panic. No way-he couldn’t let that happen. Not after everything he’d been trying to do. He had to prove he was the better option.

“No! No way, I-I mean, no! I’m totally… totally better than Sunghoon!” Riki blurted out, his words tumbling over each other. “I mean, I’ve got this! I know I messed up last time, but I can fix it! I can prove I’m… I’m a good choice! Way better than Sunghoon. Way better.”

Julie raised an eyebrow. “Really? You? Prove it, then.”

Riki looked over at Sunghoon, who was sitting with his friends across the cafeteria, casually chatting. He had his usual confident smirk on his face, like he could talk to anyone without even trying. Riki felt a spike of jealousy. Of course, Sunghoon was perfect. He was always smooth with the ladies. 

But there was no way he was going to lose this.

“I can do it,” Riki muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. “I can… I just need to do something that’ll really impress her. Something big. Like, heroic.”

Giselle, who had been listening to the whole conversation, let out a laugh. “Heroic? Riki, do you even know what that word means? You barely survived your confession last week!”

“Oh, shut up, Giselle,” Riki snapped, puffing out his chest. “I’ve got this. I’m going to do something so impressive, she’ll forget all about the ‘bang’ thing.”

Julie grinned. “Sure, sure. Go ahead, then. I’d like to see how you plan to outdo Sunghoon.”

Riki, determined not to back down, stood up from his seat. “Watch and learn, everybody. Watch and learn.”

After some thought, Riki had what he thought was a brilliant idea: he would impress you with something athletic-something that would highlight his strength and talent. He couldn’t just be the awkward guy who messes up his words. No, he was Riki, the basketball star. Surely that would be enough, right?

Later that afternoon, Riki found you standing near the school gym, talking to Karina and Giselle. His heart skipped a beat. This was it. He had already seen Sunghoon playing basketball earlier, and he knew he could do better. He was definitely better.

“Hey, Y/N!” Riki called, jogging over to you with a grin plastered on his face. “You like basketball, right?”

You turned to him, looking mildly curious but not too interested. “Yeah, I mean, I guess. Why?”

“Well, I was thinking, maybe we could… I don’t know, shoot some hoops together?” He tried to sound casual, but his voice cracked at the end.

Karina raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously asking her to shoot hoops with you?”

Riki shot her a glare, clearly ignoring her. “I’m totally fine with it, no pressure. I can show you some of my sick tricks.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by his sudden enthusiasm. “Sick tricks? Like what?”

Riki grinned, feeling an overwhelming surge of confidence. “Like, watch this!”

Without waiting for a response, he jogged over to the basketball hoop. He grabbed a ball, dribbled it a couple of times, and then made a jump shot from a distance. The ball flew through the air, and… hit the rim.

It bounced off and fell straight to the ground.

Riki’s face immediately turned red. Okay, that wasn’t supposed to happen. He picked up the ball and tried again, only for it to miss the hoop entirely and roll across the gym.

“You got this, bro!” Sunghoon yelled from across the gym, watching with his usual smug grin. “Totally nailed it!”

You and your friends burst out laughing. Even Karina couldn’t hold back.

“You know, you really should’ve stuck with your original plan,” Giselle said, still snickering. “You know, the ‘just talk to her and don’t say anything weird’ plan.”

Riki stood there, trying to recover from his failed attempt, but now he was sweating. This was not going according to plan. This was supposed to be his big moment. Instead, it felt like a huge disaster.

“I-uh, okay, okay!” he said, finally looking back at you. “I can do better. I’ll-wait for it.”

You looked at him with an amused expression, barely holding back another laugh. “You sure you’ve got this, Riki? I’m not sure this is the ‘heroic’ moment you had in mind.”

Riki’s face was so red he could’ve passed for a tomato. “No, no, I’ve got this! Just-just wait!”

Julie, who had been watching from the sidelines, gave him a slow clap. “Oh, look, it’s the basketball star. Never mind, Sunghoon’s got this one, right?”

Riki felt a surge of panic. No, he couldn’t let this happen. He needed to redeem himself, and fast. He looked at you again, the pressure mounting. “Okay, okay, let’s-let’s just hang sometime. Maybe we can… actually do something fun. How about… a movie? Or something?”

You smiled, clearly enjoying watching him flail. “Sure, we can hang. But if you’re going to keep embarrassing yourself like this, I’m definitely going with Sunghoon next time.”

The panic that flooded Riki’s chest was almost unbearable. He was getting crushed by his own nerves and the weight of your expectations. No way was he going to lose to Sunghoon. He had to step up his game… but how?

Karina's Makeover Plan

The school dance was just around the corner. The buzz of excitement and nerves filled the hallways as everyone began preparing for what was sure to be a night full of glitter, lights, and, of course, a lot of questionable dance moves. For some students, the thought of attending the dance was an exciting prospect. For others, like Riki, it was the perfect opportunity to do something incredibly dumb for the sake of impressing you.

“Okay, listen up,” Karina said one afternoon as she pulled you aside after school, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “The dance is coming up, and you need a makeover. No more hiding in the background like some cute but invisible wallflower. It’s time for you to shine, and I-” She gave a dramatic pause, “-am the one who’s going to make that happen.”

You blinked, unsure if Karina was serious or just playing one of her usual pranks. “A makeover? Karina, I’m fine. I don’t need-”

“Nope, not happening,” she interrupted, her arms crossed and a determined look on her face. “You deserve to feel amazing. Plus, I need you to show Riki just how incredible you really are, especially now that he’s been-how do we say it?-failing miserably at everything.” She gave a dramatic roll of her eyes.

You groaned. “You seriously think Riki is the reason for all of this?”

“Well, yes! He’s a mess, and it’s obvious,” Karina said, her tone as blunt as ever. “But a makeover will give you that extra oomph to make him realize that you’re not just some girl who trips over her words. You are a force to be reckoned with.”

Reluctantly, you agreed. It wasn’t like you had a choice in the matter when Karina set her mind to something. You had a feeling she had already gathered a whole team of “makeover” supplies without even asking you for input.

The next day, you found yourself sitting in front of Karina’s full beauty arsenal-a bunch of hair tools, makeup, and the most fashionable clothes she could dig out of her closet. It felt like something straight out of a high school makeover montage, but you couldn’t deny that Karina had a way of making things work.

“You ready for this?” Karina asked, flashing you a grin. “We’re going to take Riki’s mind off every embarrassing thing he’s done. After this, he’ll be so smitten, he won’t know what hit him.”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but willing to go along with it. “Do you think this will actually work?”

Karina winked. “Trust me, it’s foolproof.”

Hours later, the transformation was complete. Karina had somehow managed to do her magic, and you looked… well, different. Your hair was perfectly styled, your makeup was subtle yet striking, and your outfit? Stunning. You barely recognized yourself in the mirror. You looked like you belonged in one of those high school romantic comedies where the quiet, shy girl takes off her glasses and suddenly turns into the hottest girl in school.

You turned to Karina, unsure of how to feel. “This… I look like I’m about to star in a drama.”

“Exactly!” Karina replied, her voice filled with pride. “You’re going to slay, trust me. Now, get out there and make Riki wish he had never messed up that confession.”

As you walked down the hall toward the dance, you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. It was like the world had suddenly stopped, and all attention was on you. You spotted Riki in the crowd almost immediately. He was with his friends, standing near the snack table, looking as if he were discussing the most important thing on the planet-most likely how he could redeem himself from his last attempt to impress you.

The moment he saw you, his entire demeanor shifted. His eyes widened, and his jaw went slack. His friends immediately noticed his reaction.

“Dude,” Sunghoon said with a knowing grin, “you’re drooling.”

Riki didn’t even seem to hear him, still staring at you in absolute awe.

“I think he just short-circuited,” Sunoo said, his voice dripping with sass. “Like, seriously, bro. He’s just standing there like a puppy who’s been hit by a bus.”

“Wait for it,” Jay said, eyes glinting with mischief. “He’s gonna try to walk over and make a move. Let’s see how he screws this up.”

Sure enough, Riki started to move toward you, his feet awkwardly shuffling in the most un-Riki-like way possible. His friends exchanged knowing glances.

“Here we go,” Jake muttered, sipping his drink. “This is gonna be good.”

As Riki approached, his face was flushed with excitement-or maybe panic, it was hard to tell. He took a deep breath, trying to act cool. “Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice coming out slightly higher than usual. “You, uh, look… wow.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “What, no bang this time?”

Riki winced, the memory of his previous mistake still fresh in his mind. “I-uh, no. I meant to say you look amazing, like, wow, incredible. Seriously. I mean, you always look good, but tonight-whoa.”

“Thanks,” you said, trying not to laugh at how flustered he was. “It’s Karina’s work, so you know it’s dangerous when she’s involved.”

Riki chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Karina really knows how to… transform people. You look so-” He paused mid-sentence, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words.

“Like a goddess?” Sunghoon called out from behind Riki, earning an eye roll from Riki in return.

“Shut up, Sunghoon,” Riki muttered, his face now entirely red.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t worry, Riki. I’m used to people staring at me like I’m a foreign species after a makeover.”

“That’s not the point,” Riki blurted out, finally gaining some semblance of confidence. “I-uh, I think you look amazing. I mean, seriously. Like, wow.” He nodded emphatically, and you could tell he was trying way too hard to not look like a complete disaster.

“You’re killing me here, Riki,” Sunoo said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen a girl before.”

“Yeah, bro, relax,” Sunghoon added. “She’s just a person, not a whole new species.”

“Shut up, both of you!” Riki snapped, clearly annoyed but still unable to pull his eyes away from you.

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a little bit of satisfaction. You had managed to break him in the best way possible, and honestly? It was kind of hilarious. But there was something else, too. Something more than just amusement. You liked that Riki was so flustered by your appearance. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to realize how much he actually liked you.

“Well, thanks for the compliments, Riki,” you said, a teasing smile on your face. “I’ll take it as a win, considering how awkward you’re being right now.”

“I’m not awkward!” Riki insisted, but even he could tell that his voice had a higher pitch than usual. He was a mess, and he knew it. “I-uh, I just wasn’t expecting you to, you know, look like that. You’re… wow. Really wow.”

“And I think he’s short-circuited again,” Sunoo added with a sly grin, earning laughter from the rest of the group.

Riki buried his face in his hands, embarrassed beyond belief. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

As the night wore on, Riki’s attempts to act cool around you only became more ridiculous. But secretly, deep down, you kind of liked it. There was something about his awkward charm that was endearing, even if it made him seem like a nervous wreck every time you were near.

The dance was just beginning, and Riki was clearly trying to muster up the courage to ask you to dance. Would he succeed? Or would he trip over his own feet like usual? The tension was real, but you couldn’t help but feel a little excited to see where this would go.

Mutual Feelings

The days after the school dance were quieter than usual. The whirlwind of awkward moments, and teasing had settled down a bit. But there was something in the air now, something that wasn’t there before-the heavy, palpable feeling of anticipation. You could tell that Riki had changed. He still teased you, still tried to impress you in the silliest ways possible, but now there was a certain realness behind it. It wasn’t just a game anymore. It wasn’t just about winning your attention. No, he was genuinely trying to show you how much he liked you.

And while you pretended not to notice, you couldn’t help but feel the same way. You’d always been the quiet girl, the one who stayed in the background and let things unfold. But the more you saw Riki’s awkward, goofy charm, the more you realized that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t quite as indifferent as you thought.

It was after school one day, and you were walking down the hallway with Karina, Giselle, and Julie. The air felt heavy with the usual chatter of students, but something about today felt different. As you reached the end of the hallway, you saw Riki leaning against the lockers, his friends gathered around him as usual. His eyes locked onto yours immediately, and a slight blush crept onto his cheeks.

Karina nudged you with a teasing smile. “So, are you just gonna keep pretending like you don’t see him, or are you finally gonna admit that he’s been getting to you?” she whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw Riki standing there. He wasn’t even trying to hide the way he looked at you anymore-his gaze was open, hopeful, maybe even a little vulnerable.

“Let’s just go,” you muttered, trying to play it cool. But before you could take another step, Riki called out to you.

“Y/N!” His voice was a little too loud, a little too eager. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

You stopped in your tracks, your heart doing an odd little flip. You glanced at your friends, who were suddenly far too interested in their shoes, and then back at Riki.

“Sure,” you said, trying to sound casual, though you were anything but. You walked over to him, arms crossed, trying not to look too affected by his presence.

Riki shuffled awkwardly, clearly nervous. His usual cocky demeanor had melted away, leaving a more vulnerable version of him. It was almost adorable. He glanced down at the floor before looking back at you, his eyes softer than usual.

“Look,” he started, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for a while, but I guess… I just need to say it now.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking ridiculously nervous.

You tilted your head, trying to act like you didn’t already know exactly what was coming. “Riki,” you said, your voice light, “you’re starting to sound like you’re about to give a big speech. Just get to it.”

Riki’s cheeks flushed even deeper, and he shifted from foot to foot like he was trying to find the courage to continue. “I-uh-I’ve liked you for a while. Like, a long while,” he admitted, his words coming out in a rush. “I know I’ve been acting like an idiot. I’ve probably messed up more times than I can count. But I really, really like you, Y/N.”

The air between you two felt thick, like time had slowed to a crawl. You blinked, trying to process what he had just said. You had known, of course, but hearing it out loud? It sent a strange warmth spreading through your chest.

Riki laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well… I really am terrible at this, huh?”

You shook your head, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “Not terrible. Just… maybe a little too dramatic. But it’s kind of cute.”

Riki’s eyes widened, and for the briefest moment, it looked like he was holding his breath, waiting for you to say something else. “Cute?” he repeated, as if the word had just been a huge revelation.

You gave him a look, suddenly feeling a little more serious than you’d intended. “Yeah. You’re cute, Riki. But you’re also incredibly frustrating. I’ve had to watch you stumble through all of this… and I’ve liked you for a while, too.”

Riki’s mouth dropped open. “You liked me? But-wait, you knew?”

You smirked. “Riki, I’m not blind. I’ve noticed. But I didn’t want to just say it out loud, especially when you were trying so hard to not tell me.”

He grinned, the embarrassment melting away into something much more comfortable. “Well, I guess it’s nice to know I wasn’t just making a fool of myself for nothing.”

“You weren’t,” you replied softly. “But… just so you know, I think you’re the one who’s been making a fool of himself, not me.”

Riki’s face lit up with that stupid, goofy smile of his. “Hey, I’m fine with that. As long as it means we’re, you know, on the same page now.”

You nodded, feeling your heart do a little happy flip. “Yeah. Same page.”

Just then, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and the rest of the gang came walking down the hallway, practically hovering near Riki like they’d been waiting for the moment.

“Finally!” Sunghoon grinned, crossing his arms. “We’ve all been waiting for this.”

“Yeah, seriously, you two are so obvious,” Sunoo added with a smirk. “Took you long enough.”

Riki groaned, but you could see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You guys were just as bad as I was, you know?”

Sunghoon laughed. “It was cute seeing you struggle, honestly.”

Riki sighed in defeat. “Alright, alright, I get it. I’m obviously a mess.” He looked at you, his expression softening again. “But at least I’m a mess with you now.”

You grinned back, the tension finally lifting. “Yeah, you are.”

As the group started walking toward the exit, Riki fell in step beside you. And for the first time in a while, it felt like the two of you weren’t just stumbling through this whole “relationship” thing. Maybe, just maybe, you were actually getting it right.

The Big Gesture

It had been a few weeks since the two of you had finally confessed your feelings, and everything felt like it was falling into place. The awkwardness was mostly gone, though Riki still couldn’t help but occasionally embarrass himself in the most hilarious ways. But now, it wasn’t just about the silly moments. It was about the real stuff-the moments where you could finally be yourselves without all the drama. Well, except for the good drama.

But Riki? Riki had been planning something. He wasn’t going to let things just coast along. No, he had to do something big, something memorable. He had been listening to all the advice his friends had been giving him-well, most of it anyway-and he had decided to take action. This time, he was going all out.

It was a Friday afternoon, and you were in your usual spot with Karina, Giselle, and Julie at lunch. You were chatting about the upcoming weekend plans when suddenly, you felt someone’s eyes on you.

You looked up to find Riki standing at the edge of the cafeteria, surrounded by his usual group of friends. But he wasn’t looking at you like usual. No, he was smiling-grinning, even-like he had some kind of secret. And that secret? You were about to find out.

He waved at you, his arms flailing in a way that made you almost roll your eyes. “Y/N! Come over here, I need to talk to you!”

You glanced at your friends. “What’s he doing now?”

Karina snickered. “I have no idea, but I’m ready for the drama. Let’s see what stupid thing he’s pulled this time.”

“Probably something that involves a microphone and a dance-off,” Giselle joked. “You know, classic Riki.”

But you stood up, curiosity getting the better of you. “Alright, alright. I’ll go see what this is about.”

When you reached Riki and his friends, they all looked at you with wide grins, clearly trying to hide something. Sunghoon was the first to speak up, his usual sarcasm oozing out. “Hey, Y/N. How’s it going? You know, Riki’s been planning something for you… and it’s definitely not a disaster. Not at all.”

Sunoo raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, no pressure. Totally foolproof plan here.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “What are you guys up to?”

Before anyone could answer, Riki suddenly stepped forward, his face almost serious-except for the small, nervous twitch in his eye. “So… I’ve been thinking about this for a while. And I figured it was time I did something big. You know, for you. Something that, uh… shows you just how much I like you.”

You blinked. “Wait, what? Are you serious? What are you planning?”

Riki grinned, a little too confidently. “Well, I can’t give everything away. But trust me, you’re gonna love it. Just meet me after school on the rooftop.”

You were about to say something more, but before you could, Sunghoon quickly added, “It’s going to be great. Just-no more questions. Just go.”

“I don’t trust any of you right now,” you muttered, but you agreed to meet him anyway. You were curious, after all.

Later that afternoon, as the school bell rang, you found yourself walking up the steps to the rooftop, your heart pounding a little faster than you’d like to admit. The rooftop was quiet, the sun beginning to set in the distance, casting a golden glow across the school.

As you reached the top, you saw Riki standing near the edge, his back turned to you. The breeze ruffled his hair as he turned to face you, his eyes twinkling with excitement and nervousness all at once.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice more serious than usual. “Thank you for giving me the chance to, well, be me around you. I know I’ve been a total mess… and yeah, I’m still not the best at this whole ‘romance’ thing. But I want you to know that you mean a lot to me.”

You were silent for a moment, your heart swelling at his words. He was so Riki-awkward, goofy, but somehow perfect in his own way.

Riki stepped forward, pulling out a small envelope from his pocket. He handed it to you with a nervous smile. “I wanted to write something for you. I thought maybe if I just, you know… talked about it, it wouldn’t have the same effect. So, um… here.”

You opened the envelope, reading the letter that he had written. It was sweet, surprisingly heartfelt, and completely Riki-filled with awkward metaphors about basketball and weird references. But underneath it all, it was clear that he meant every word.

“Riki,” you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips. “This is… this is sweet. And kind of embarrassing, but mostly really sweet.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I mean, I didn’t think you’d want some perfect love letter. I wanted it to be real.”

You set the letter down on the ledge beside you, taking a deep breath. “I’ve always liked you, you know. I just… wasn’t sure if you were serious. But now? I think I get it. You’ve really put yourself out there.”

Riki’s eyes widened, and he took a step closer, a goofy smile spreading across his face. “So, does that mean…?”

You laughed softly. “Yeah, Riki. It means yes.”

There was a brief moment of silence, a beat of nervous energy in the air. Then, almost without thinking, Riki leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, sweet kiss. It was like the entire world paused around you. There was no one else around, no interruptions, just the two of you.

It wasn’t some grand, dramatic kiss like you’d seen in movies. No, it was better. It was the kind of kiss that felt real, warm, and full of promise. The kind of kiss that told you that maybe all the embarrassing moments, the awkwardness, and the goofy gestures were worth it because they led to this moment.

When you pulled back, Riki was grinning like a fool. “So, uh, I guess that means I did the right thing, huh?”

You laughed, your heart still fluttering. “Yeah. You did.”

And just like that, the rooftop, the sunset, and the world seemed to align perfectly for both of you.

As you both made your way down the stairs, the rest of the gang appeared, jumping out from behind corners, from every direction-like they had been waiting for this exact moment.

“FINALLY!” Sunghoon yelled, throwing his hands up. “Took you two long enough!”

Sunoo smirked, crossing his arms. “I told you he’d pull this off. He’s actually not an idiot.”

Jake nodded seriously. “Riki? Actually doing something romantic? Who would’ve thought?”

Riki groaned, clearly embarrassed, but you just smiled, your hand slipping into his as you walked back down the hallway.

“You guys seriously had to follow us, huh?” you said with a playful eye roll.

Karina, Giselle, and Julie were standing nearby, all grinning like fools. “We knew this was coming,” Karina teased. “Just didn’t know it’d be so sweet.”

Julie grinned. “Honestly, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Riki’s finally got his act together.”

And that was the moment-no big gestures needed, no speeches, just the quiet understanding that, in the end, everything had worked out. You’d both found something real, something worth celebrating.

And even though the teasing and jokes from your friends never stopped, you didn’t mind anymore. This was just the beginning of something amazing.

please comment, like, or reblog! those are highly appreciated

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 WE WERE BORN SICK

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: that sinking feeling that's been looming over you both has finally come to fruition. truths are revealed, questions are answered, but one big one remains: is love enough for you and dazai's relationship to survive this?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: happy fridayyyyy, i can't believe we only have one chapter left of civzai, it's actually makin me emotional </3 this chapter was quite a doozy to write, and i hope it's equally a doozy to read HAHAH no no jkjk , i hope you enjoy. also do u guys want to add an arcane au to the dazaiverse .. ive been thinking heavily about it. comments & reblogs appreciated

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited. angsty chapter. explicit depiction of suicide (past recollection of dazai), implications of past self-harm (dazai), very toxic thought processes at certain parts (dazai), past (and a bit of current) suicide ideation (dazai), manic behavior (reader).

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

“I’ve been eager to meet you for quite a while. In all of the years I’ve known her, my little hime has never let something as trivial as a boy come between her and our work… I knew you must be special, but I never could’ve imagined just how special. I’m so pleasantly surprised.”

Dazai’s head throbs as he comes to his surroundings. He’s laying in an uncomfortable bed—a hospital bed, he thinks, he can smell the unfortunately familiar scent of antiseptic, but the walls aren’t the typical white he’s used to. He winces as he sits up, unable to recall where he is or what happened to him. Everything is too fuzzy, he remembers being with Fitzgerald, the car ride to the tea house, and-

And he remembers you. 

He remembers you.

He lets out a shaky breath as he recalls the way you’d pulled him into your arms, cradling him close as soon as you got him back from Fitzgerald. God, he only got to be with you for what felt like a second. It wasn’t enough time. It wasn’t nearly enough time. You sent him off, he remembers—you sent him with two of your subordinates, the weretiger and that freaky little girl, and then… 

“Shhh… Don’t speak. I want to get this done and over with.”

The gun to his back, Atsushi and Kyouka’s cries of shock, the baton to his head.

“No can do, weretiger. On orders from the boss.”

His mind tracks back to the words that had been spoken as he was teetering on the edge of consciousness, mouth going dry and eyes widening as he becomes acutely aware of the other person in the room with him. His gaze flicks up to where a vaguely familiar man sits at a desk watching him—straight chin-length black hair, inquisitive purple eyes, a long black coat, Dazai isn’t sure where he recalls this man from but he knows that they’ve met before. 

“Who…” Dazai asks, voice wavering as pain shoots through his head with every little movement. “Who are you? Have we… met before?”

His wrist hurts. His mother’s nails dig into his skin so deep that it draws blood, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. He’d just been sleeping—is he still sleeping? He isn’t sure. He’s stumbling over his own feet trying to keep up with her, he keeps asking her what’s going on but she doesn’t answer him. 

They turn a hall and his mother stops so suddenly that he slams right into her, nearly tripping over onto the ground. He doesn’t even regain his footing before his mother is pulling him back the way he came, he looks over his shoulder trying to figure out what caused his mother to panic so badly and he looks at—a man? 

Who is that? 

Why is he coming from grandfather’s room?

Is that-

Blood?

“Shuji! Shuji, don’t look back! Keep moving!”

Shuji? Who’s Shu-

“I think you know the answer to that already.” Dazai is startled out of the memory—was that a memory?—by the man’s voice. He sounds amused, and from the way that his eyes are glittering, Dazai can tell he’s finding great entertainment out of this situation. It pisses Dazai off. “Don’t you?”

“Tane-chan, you know you won’t be able to hide him forever. You’re just making this harder on yourself.”

Dazai’s breath catches. He shifts backward on the bed to press his back against the wall. Everything is wrong—the air is too cold, his bandages are itching, his head hurts, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. Who is Shuji? Why is he thinking of his mother after all of these years? And what… what was he remembering? 

Memories of his youth have always been sparse and fleeting—he can vaguely recall the faces of his siblings, the anxiety he felt around his grandfather, the loneliness—but something like this… The panic on his mothers face, the pain in his wrist, the way she was dragging him around, the fear in her voice when she screamed at Dazai—was he Shuji? But then why—to not look back, to keep moving. He would remember something like that. That would be… crazy to forget, right?

What is going on?

“You’re Mori,” Dazai breathes out, clearing his throat. He hopes he doesn’t look as disconcerted as he feels, but he thinks he must. “You’re…”

The leader of the Port Mafia. 

The closest thing you have to a father.

So, how does Dazai remember him from years ago? It doesn’t make sense. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen, maybe fourteen in that memory. What did he forget? When did he meet him? What’s going on? Dazai wants to scream, his mind is still slow from just waking up—he doesn’t even know how long he was unconscious, it couldn’t have been that long.

Mori’s smile widens as if Dazai just walked right into whatever trap that had been laid out for him, violet eyes flashing with a type of cruel amusement that makes Dazai sick to his stomach. Dazai has to circle back to remember what he just said, he needs to snap out of the daze he’s in. He needs to think. He made a mistake—Dazai made a mistake. He shouldn’t have admitted that he knew Mori. That was a mistake.

How does he fix it? 

Can he fix it?

“You do know,” Mori says, like he didn’t actually expect Dazai to admit that he knew him. Like he’s pleasantly surprised. Again. Like Dazai just made things much easier for him. Shit. ���Interesting.”

He’s going to use it against Dazai. Dazai knows it. He’s going to use it against him to hurt you. He remembers everything he’s learned about your relationship with Mori—how he pit you against that other girl, Yosano, to get results from you. And he already said it. He already said that Dazai is getting between you and your work, he’ll do the same thing here. He’ll pit you against him.

He’s going to tell you that Dazai knew who Mori was, and that Dazai is someone that he’s not—who is Shuji? Why doesn’t he remember his own name? Is that really his name? How does Mori know all of this? Who is Dazai?—and Dazai needs to be able to say something. He needs to be able to explain. How does he explain this when he doesn’t even know what’s going on? Dazai needs to remember; he needs to remember now, he needed to remember yesterday, because if he’s not the one to tell you this… If he can’t explain this…

This cannot be happening—it can’t. Right when he thought everything would be okay, when he would be with you. His throat starts to clog as anxiety clouds his head and weighs on his chest, a panic attack that he can’t afford right now. He needs to think, he needs to figure out what’s going on—Mori knows something about Dazai that he doesn’t know himself, and he’s going to use it against him to drive a wedge between the two of you. He’s going to tell you, and-

Dazai’s world feels woozy. Why can’t he remember? How does he know Mori? What was happening that night with his mother? He needs to snap out of this, needs to think, but he can’t even breathe. Fear—the mind killer.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Dazai rasps, his voice is hoarse, and he feels sick, and he hates admitting that he doesn’t know what’s happening, but he needs Mori to believe it so that he doesn’t tell you something that’s not true. “I don’t know how I know you. I don’t-”

“You might believe that,” Mori says amused, “but will she?”

Dazai stares at Mori, his stomach churns violently and his vision swims as the answer becomes abundantly clear to him.

He doesn’t know. 

———

The gun in your hand weighs heavily.

You hid it in the inside of your blazer to get up to the conference room. No weapons are allowed up past the thirty-fifth floor unless you’re one of the Boss’s hand-picked personal guards—even executives are forced to disarm themselves before going up, but security is much more lax for the upper echelon. Because you’re you—the hime, second-in-command, the Boss’s daughter—the guards outside of the elevator that goes directly to the top floor wave you past the metal detectors to go on up.

A mistake.

(Who is Tsushima Shuji? It can’t be Dazai. You know Dazai. Mori must be wrong.)

The smile on your face is bland and doesn’t meet your eyes as you walk down the hall to the conference room attached to Mori’s office. You greet the guards, and they don’t notice how off your demeanor is, too starstruck over the fact that they’re being acknowledged for once. They also don’t notice the way your hand is curled around the grip of your gun in your blazer.

A mistake. 

(Mori is never wrong. Do you really know Dazai?)

When you reach the end of the hallway, you toss them one last brilliant smile. This one is a bit more genuine because you’ve realized that you’ve gotten through the top notch security of the upper levels of the Port Mafia headquarters without a hitch. That you’re one step closer to finishing this. They’re so blinded by the beauty of your smile that they don’t realize your teeth have sharpened into knives and the floral perfume you wear masks a putrid bloodlust. 

A mistake. 

(It’s always been odd, hasn’t it? The way he approached you. The way he was so insistent on pushing himself into your life. You always questioned it. There was a sinking feeling that something wasn’t as it seemed. Why didn’t you question it more?)

You keep your back turned as you slip into the room. You can feel four presences behind you—Kouyou, Piano Man, Chuuya, Ace. No Mori. No Dazai. That’s fine—you have something to take care of before they show up anyway. The conference room is soundproof; Mori designed it that way because he didn’t want the guards outside to overhear any discussion of sensitive topics. Even if he handpicked them for their loyalty, he understands that money can make the most devout man’s faith waver. Still, it’s not them rushing in that you’re worried about—it’s the people in the room with you rushing out, so you very carefully twist the nub of the lock and then reach up to fix the deadbolt. It won’t stop them, but it will slow them. You can feel their eyes on you as you make sure the door is locked, but none of them call you out for it or try to stop you.

A mistake. 

(Mori always told you that the Tsushimas were like cockroaches. If they all weren’t killed, one would eventually return to reclaim their grandfather’s empire. There’d be a power struggle between the factions loyal to the new regime and the ones that still hid in the shadows believing that the Tsushima blood belonged at the head of the organization. Everything the two of you had built would crumble to ashes.)

You turn to make your way over to the conference table where the four of them are sitting. You haven’t decided how you want to go about this yet. You don’t know who all was aware of what Mori did, and because of that, you don’t know who needs to die. Treachery has always faced a death penalty—you don’t care if Mori ordered it, you don’t care that the Boss’s word is absolute, you have bled and breathed for the Port Mafia. You’ve sacrificed everything you’ve ever owned and wanted for the Port Mafia. You have made the Port Mafia into what it is today with your efforts abroad and at home—foreign governments, foreign criminal organizations, the Japanese government and other domestic mafias, all of them are just puppets that you pull the strings of to ensure the Port Mafia stays on top. Treachery against you will face the same penalty one would receive if they betrayed the Port Mafia, because you are the Port Mafia—Mori has made sure of that. 

Chuuya and Piano Man share a look with one another as you approach the table. Neither of them say anything—is it confusion? Is it guilt? Did they know? Were you the only one unaware of the schemes going on around you? Were you the only one loyal? The only one you could trust?

Did they know?

Did they know?

(No one could ever love you without your ability at work influencing them. You’ve known that since the very beginning, but you were so quick to forget that when you discovered Dazai’s ability. You should have had more questions, you should have been more suspicious. Mori had been right from the very beginning. You were emotionally compromised. You were weak.)

Ace opens his mouth to speak.

A mistake. 

“It was nice meeting your-”

Ace’s head hits the conference table with a hard thunk, his eyes wide and glassy, his mouth open around the words you didn’t let him finish speaking. Blood seeps from the bullet hole in his temple and pools around his head and the ground beneath his chair, staining the glass table and the white floors. 

Instead of lowering your arm, you shift it so that the gun is pressed against Piano Man’s temple next. Chuuya says your name—it’s awful, something caught between a gasp of shock and confusion, he’s never said your name like that before. Like he doesn’t know what you’re doing. Like he doesn’t understand you. Like you’re something unfamiliar. Unrecognizable. You ignore him anyway, and the pangs that come along with it, and instead, you keep your gaze trained on Piano Man’s face.

He’s not as panicked as Chuuya, but you can tell that he’s just as caught off guard from the way his lips are twisted. He watches you carefully, waiting for you to say whatever you’re going to say—if you were going to pull the trigger, you would’ve done so immediately, he knows that. He’s always been good at reading you, better than even Chuuya sometimes.

“Did you know?”

Your voice is steadier than you expect it to be. Cold almost. Distant. You don’t recognize it yourself, you suppose it’s no wonder that Chuuya’s staring at you with such a foreign expression. You watch him just as carefully as he does you. He has a tell when he lies: he squints. Not an obvious squint, just the barest hint of his eyes squeezing shut like he’s calculating exactly what he wants to say, in what tone and with what fluctuation he wants to say it.

A subtle tell, but a tell nonetheless. 

“No.”

He stares at you steadily as he says it. There’s no squint—he’s telling the truth. You don’t let out a breath of relief, but you certainly feel the weight off of your shoulders. You lower the gun, satisfied with his response, and then you walk over to where Chuuya is sitting.

You don’t raise the gun to his temple immediately. He looks up at you, you look down at him, a whole conversation is had in the silence between you, and eventually he lowers his lashes in resignation, telling you to do what needs to be done for you to feel more at ease.

He’s always put others before himself. 

You lift the gun at the same time he lifts his gaze to meet yours. He could activate the Tainted Sorrow and end this before it starts, but he doesn’t—you know in your gut that if you pulled the trigger right now, he would accept the fate you delivered. Probably would take it as a better one than he deserved—it being at your hands rather than Arahabaki. 

“Did you know?” you ask. The words taste bitter, rancid—they don’t belong there, Chuuya would never betray you, but you had to hear it from him. 

Chuuya doesn’t have many tells when he lies—he’s a good actor, much better than people give him credit for. If he wanted to lie to you, he might be able to get away with it. But he won’t lie to you, not when he’s looking you in the eye. 

“No,” he says, voice soft and raspy like he can’t believe he has to say it.

You let the gun drop to your side. It weighs heavier now—heavier than it did in the elevator, heavier than it did in the hallway leading to the room, heavier than it did when it was pressed against Piano Man’s head. You can hardly bear to keep holding it, but you’re not done yet.

Slowly, your gaze turns to Kouyou. Her expression is cold and unreadable, gaze pinned on you in the same way a lion stalks its prey through the tall grass… No, that’s not right. She stares at you with the same look in her eyes that a snake does when it’s curled in a corner, rattle shaking and hissing to try to scare off the predator that has it trapped.

“You knew,” you breathe out softly in disbelief. Your voice hardens and tightens as you repeat, “You knew!”

Before you can raise your gun—before you can pull the trigger four, five, six times, before you can riddle her body with holes because how dare she know, how dare she know and not tell you after what the previous boss did to her—the door that separates the conference room from Mori’s office opens, and your attention is drawn to the one person who caused all of this.

“Oh my,” Mori says airly, looking between you, Ace’s body, and Kouyou with an expression that is frustratingly amused. “I see you’ve been busy.”

You don’t even know what to say to that. You almost want to laugh. You think you do laugh, actually—someone does, and you think it’s you, because you feel yourself walking away, you lift your hands to your head to tug at your ears in frustration. Your vision is blurry—are you crying?

“You betrayed me,” you finally say, voice quieter than you intend, so you raise it as you repeat yourself. “You betrayed me. You. Of all people I never thought you would be the one to-”

You can’t even finish the sentence, your voice cracks over the words. It makes you feel sick, it makes you angry, it makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because how could he? To you? You don’t know why you’re so angry, why you’re so betrayed. Mori has always made it clear that his priority is the Port Mafia, but still, to do this to you. To do this to his-

To his what?

You’re not his daughter. You hate when people imply that you are, you hate being called hime, you hate being called ‘Miss Mori’, you hate when people give you respect because of your perceived relationship to him. 

He’s the only father you’ve ever known. Almost every decision you’ve made has been with the motive of making him proud of you. When he seeks out your opinion specifically during meetings, your chest becomes warm with pride.

You don’t love him. How could you? Look at what you’ve become because of him. 

Then why do you feel so betrayed? Why did you think he would be the last person to do something like this to you when you know the type of person he is? Why does your chest feel like it’s caving in? Like your heart’s been ripped right out of it? Why does this hurt as much—why does this hurt more than Dazai’s potential betrayal?

And he certainly doesn’t love you. He never would have done this if he did. 

He’s killed people for disrespecting you—he hardly ever gets his own hands dirty, but he does when it’s you and your dignity on the line. He spends hours meticulously picking out birthday presents that he knows you’ll like. He gets sad when he invites you for lunch and you don’t join him, reminiscing about the days where you clung to the back of his coat.

He touches your shoulder, and your finger twitches on the trigger of the gun. You want to lift it, press it to his temple and pull the trigger just like you did to Ace, but you can’t. Your arm feels like lead, and when his hand slides down to your bicep to force you to turn around and face him so that your back is to the rest of the executives, you dutifully follow along.

His expression is unreadable as he looks down at you, violet eyes swimming with an emotion you’ve never seen in them before. He lifts his hand to wipe away one of the tears that had spilled over your cheeks with his knuckle, and then taps your cheek twice, chiding you silently. 

Do not cry here, little hime. Not here.

“You have always been so dramatic,” Mori hums just loud enough for you to hear, but the words are fond, and the corners of his lip curl up as he looks down at you. “I would not betray you. Not ever, dear.” 

You look at Ace pointedly in response and then back to Mori, the man sighs dramatically and gives you a disappointed look. The nerve, you think bitterly, narrowing your eyes on him as you wait for his explanation.

“I told you,” Mori says. “I did this to protect you. I wanted to get ahold of the boy-”

“Because you have some mistaken belief that he’s a Tsushima,” you interrupt coolly. “How did you even manage to come up with that ridiculous theory?”

Mori’s eyes flicker with something akin to interest, but shifts quickly into pity—you can’t tell if it’s genuine or mocking, and you don’t know which would be worse. He must be mistaken, he has to be. You don’t think you can handle the implications of if he isn’t, of what it might mean for you. For Dazai. Your whole relationship with him. How much was manufactured for him to get information about the Port Mafia? So he could get a foothold in the organization? Get in contact with the remaining loyalists to his family?

“Sit,” he tells you, guiding you over to the seat at the right of the head of the table. “I’ll explain everything, but first… Shuji-kun, why don’t you come out and join us?” 

Your breath catches at Mori’s words, gaze twisting to the side over to the door that he’d come out of. You watch as the door creaks open, and the achingly familiar sight of his face finally comes into view. You’ve missed him—you’ve missed him, and you hate this. You should be back at your apartment with him, you should have him curled up in your arms, you should be listening to him complain about how long he was stuck with the Guild. 

This shouldn’t be happening. You shouldn’t be sitting at the executive roundtable with Ace’s dead body a few feet away, and Dazai entering the room, questions of his identity, of whether or not he’s been using you for information and opportunity to take back his grandfather’s legacy. 

You hoped that Dazai would enter the room angry, irritated by the kidnapping and the accusations, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen Dazai look like this before. He looks a mess, fidgeting, brown hair matted to his forehead, dark eyes wide and swirling with emotion. When he seeks you out, they’re pleading, imploring, like he already knows that whatever is about to be said is going to be bad for him. 

He looks… frazzled. Nervous. Confused. 

He looks guilty, and you know that Mori is telling the truth. 

How much of this was a lie? All of it?

Your throat feels uncomfortably tight, gaze sliding from Dazai back to Mori.

“Tell me.”

Who are you, Dazai Osamu?

———

Despite his body being wracked with a strange sense of guilt, Dazai pushes open the door to enter the room where he assumes you’ll be waiting. You’re not the only one there sitting at the table—there’s five… no, four others—but Dazai can’t help the way he immediately seeks you out. He recognizes his mistake instantly. That highly unwelcome, and highly misplaced, guilt amplifies the moment his gaze meets yours and he sees how crushed you are by all of this. His face twists into something that he knows condemns himself more. and from the way you instantly look away from him, directing your full attention to Mori, he knows he has. 

Now, you won’t meet his eyes at all.

Dazai sits stiffly across from you to the left of Mori. Nakahara Chuuya is on his opposite side, glaring holes into the side of Dazai’s head, but he can’t drag his gaze from you. He’s never seen you like this before—even back at the beach house when you’d been so close to breaking down under the weight of everything on your shoulders, you’d held yourself together as best you could. 

You’re unraveling now; he can tell you’re still trying to hold yourself together, but it’s as good as trying to pick up water with your fists, your emotions spill out through the cracks carved into the walls you used to hide yourself behind. Mori hasn’t even begun talking, yet your breath is unsteady and your eyes are swimming with emotion; your fingers are still wrapped tight around the grip of your gun, and Dazai is very acutely aware of Ace’s dead body slouched over the table not even a few feet away. 

And you won’t even meet his eyes.

Maybe it’s a good thing, he realizes, because Dazai isn’t sure what you might see if you do. You clearly didn’t like what you saw the first time. He just feels so guilty, and he doesn’t even know why he feels guilty because he’s not-he didn’t do any of what Mori implied. He didn’t use you, he didn’t know who you were before meeting you, it wasn’t all some scheme to try to take over the mafia. That’s ludicrous—he’s a literature student at YNU, not some gang lord. He just-

He loved you. Loves you. No ulterior motives. No strings attached. 

“I said tell me,” you snap when Mori doesn’t immediately begin talking. “You love talking, so why are you holding back now? Tell me, or I’m leaving.”

Dazai feels a bit sick to his stomach when you say ‘I’ with no implication of taking him with you. He tries to get you to look at him again, silently pleading with you to just spare one glance in his direction, but you’re irritated now. He can see it in the way your fingers flex around the gun, knuckles whitening and finger twitching on the trigger—it’s pointed at the woman sitting next to you, who is very acutely aware of the fact from how stiff she is. 

“Do you remember the night we took over the Port Mafia, dear?” Mori asks her, voice a low hum. 

“What kind of question is that?” you answer tightly. Your lip curls up in irritation, Dazai can see you become more and more antsy and angry—he’s never seen you so out of control before. “Of course, I do.” 

“And you, Shuji-kun?” Mori turns his attention to Dazai and he wants to spit in his face—his name is Dazai—but his voice fails him when he sees the way your face twists at the sound of the unfamiliar name. He stares at Mori instead, hating how amused the man becomes at his silence. “I’ll take that as a no, allow me to refresh you.”

“Eight years ago, a coup was staged against your grandfather’s regime,” Mori says, and Dazai feels like he’s being studied under a microscope. All eyes are on him now—even yours, but now, he can’t bring himself to look at you. He doesn’t know what he’ll find, and he’s scared it’s going to be something he doesn’t like. “Your grandfather was mad, killing civilians and mafiosos indiscriminately, something had to be done, and nobody was willing to do it, so we did.”

“We had to wipe out the whole family, and any loyalists. I was fourteen when I killed someone for the first time. She was a girl my age—the previous boss’s grandaughter…”

Dazai’s gaze drags over to you. You’re staring ahead now, gaze listless and expression eerily blank like you’re slowly starting to realize what this means. Dazai hasn’t come to terms with it yet, because if even a little of what Mori is saying is true then…

“We wiped out the whole bloodline and as many loyalists as we could,” Mori continues, “or we thought we did, at least. My dear hime was who I sent to kill the heirs, I trusted in her to make it quick and painless. We didn’t realize one of the grandchildren were missing until it was too late—he wasn’t in his bedroom, apparently liked to wander around at night because he couldn’t sleep. His mother was able to swoop in and get him out of the estate before our men took over the building… Tsushima Shuji, the youngest of the previous boss’s grandsons. Does this sound familiar yet, Shuji-kun?”

He has the best view of the night sky from an alcove on the fourth floor of the estate—his grandfather’s floor. It’s where he likes to go when he can’t sleep at night, and ever since his cousins and siblings started fighting over their grandfather’s legacy, that’s been just about every night: half because of fear now that things have started escalating to violence, half because he’s not even sure why he’s still here.

His knees are tucked tight to his chest, arms wrapped around them and head resting against the cool glass as he looks up at the stars. He hears a commotion happening somewhere downstairs, but there’s always a commotion happening at the estate, so he thinks nothing of it. He submerges himself in the darkness instead, letting his mind float away as he stares up at the sky—it’s the only time he’s able to relax, escape from the shadows of his own mind.

He’s not sure how long he sits there admiring the night, time passes immeasurably when he’s lost in the stars—he’s only snapped out of it when he hears feet slamming against the ground in his direction. He stiffens, eyes wide, wondering if another one of his cousins has finally turned to bloodshed as the way to inherit their grandfather’s legacy, but instead his mother turns the corner, her smooth face contorted in a type of panic he’s never seen on her before.

“Mothe…” he starts to say, confused, but he doesn’t even get a chance to finish the word, gasping as his mother grabs his wrist and yanks him off the cushioned seat in the alcove.

“Shuji, we have to go,” she gasps, “we need to get out of here. It’s not safe.”

He stumbles after his mother, struggling to keep up with her quick pace and longer legs. Her grip was painful, nails digging into the bandages around his wrists, right into the fresh wounds they covered. He grimaces in pain, breathing heavy as he follows his mother down the hall, assumingly toward the steps near his grandfather’s room. 

“What’s going on?” he asks. “What about Bunji? Akane? T-”

His mother chokes over what sounds like a sob and his eyes widen—he’s never heard his mother cry before. 

“There’s no time,” she chokes out, “we have to leave without them. We-”

They turn a hall, she skids to a stop and-

“It seems that it does… Allow me to continue then,” Mori hums, drawing Dazai out of the memory. He sounds unbearably amused, and Dazai would be angry if he wasn’t so shaken. He pulls his hands off of the table to rest them in his lap to hide the way his fingers are trembling. “Your mother was able to hide you from us for half a year, I warned her that she wouldn’t be able to for long and since she didn’t share your grandfather’s blood, promised to spare her life if she gave you up to us, but she refused. She tried to take you out of the Kanagawa Prefecture, but our men were catching up to her, and she took… drastic measures to ensure we couldn’t track you down. That I’m sure you remember.”

“Mother,” he whispered, staring up at the rope, her limp body, gaze trailing down to the kicked over chair. “Mother, I don’t… why did you…”

He takes a step closer. A step back. Another step closer. He reaches out, fingers brushing the white nightgown she’d worn the night before while getting him settled in bed, but he snatches them back instantly like he’d been burned, clutching his hand to his chest.

He’s not breathing, he realizes when his lungs start to burn. His eyes sting painfully, unable to draw his eyes away—unable to even blink—is it a nightmare? Is he hallucinating? She sways—sways like when she used to distract him when he was settling into a depressive episode by putting on music and forcing him to spin with her in the kitchen, sways like the wind chimes she keeps outside because the house doesn’t feel homely enough without him, sways-

“Shuji! Shuji, get away from there!” The voice that calls to him is familiar—Aunt Kiye? Why is she here? “God, I tried to get here earlier. Nee-san, forgive me.”

Aunt Kiye grabs his wrist, yanking him away from his mother, dragging him out of her bedroom and down the hall. His voice is hoarse as he screams, he doesn’t know what he’s screaming, if he’s even screaming anything intelligible. He doesn’t stop until he’s out of the house and she’s kneeling in front of him, shaking him out of his panic.

“Enough, Shuji! We have to go, we can’t stay here, they’ll be here soon,” Aunt Kiye shouts at him, expression twisted and eyes pooling with tears that she doesn’t let spill over. “We need to go, and we-we need to change your name, change everything. I promised I would hide you, I-”

“We can’t leave her there,” he argues, voice shrill. “I don’t understand, why did she do that? What did I do? It was my fault, It was my fault, wasn’t it? It-”

Aunt Kiye doesn’t answer his question. She looks bitter, angry, hateful. “We have no time. We have to leave,” she whispers, dragging him to the car despite his protests. She continues talking, more to herself than to him, but the words make his chest cave in. “I told her not to get involved with that family. Their blood is black, cursed. Everyone knows nothing good comes from associating with those people.”

His fault, he realizes, breath becoming thin and shallow. It’s his fault, his blood, his fault that his mother-

“Yes, quite the unfortunate scene we walked into,” Mori says dismissively. “She was smart for it though, she never would’ve survived a night with our sweet hime interrogating her. You should see what she did to that despicable journalist. Of course, she wasn’t as fine-tuned with her ability back then, but that would’ve been at your mother’s expense—her first few attempts at conditioning were quite… unfortunate for her test sub-”

“Enough,” you spit out, interrupting him. Dazai wants to believe that it’s because you can see how uncomfortable he’s getting, but he’s not even sure that you care. He’s not even sure you remember he’s in the room. “Get to the point. You think he’s the Tsushima kid we missed—that doesn’t prove shit. It doesn’t mean-”

You don’t finish what you’re going to say, but you do look at him, and Dazai’s breath catches when his gaze finally meets yours again. He can’t tell what you’re thinking—the expression on your face is entirely indecipherable, something caught between being accusatory and guilty. Dazai doesn’t know if he’s going to make it out of this room alive. Even if by some miracle, you decide to believe him, there’s a good chance that Mori will order his death anyway, and he’s not sure if you’ll pick him over the Port Mafia. 

That being said, Dazai doesn’t even know if he wants to make it out of here alive. His brain is fogged with memories that he locked so deep within him that they never should’ve resurfaced—every time Mori speaks, Dazai’s recalling something new, something awful, something that proves that he’s every bit the freak people have always claimed him to be. Every bit as bad. Every bit as wrong. Not like other people. A monster whose mother killed herself because of him, a monster who's been cursed since the day he was born. 

“... blood is black, cursed… nothing good comes from associating with those people.”

More than that, he doesn’t see how the two of you are going to be able to come back from this, and that scares him more than anything. You’re the only good thing left in his life, and he doesn’t think he’ll make it without you, but he doesn’t think that after all of this things are just going to work out. You killed his siblings. His cousins. And yeah, Dazai was never close to them—they thought he was too quiet, too strange, all of the things that the other students at school whispered, his family was the first to—but… they were still his family, and if Dazai had been in his room that night, he would’ve been just as dead at your hands as the rest of them.

You killed his family. You would have killed him. The Port Mafia is the reason his mother killed herself, the reason why he walked into her bedroom and saw her hanging from a fan. The Port Mafia is the reason his aunt hated him so much that she couldn’t even bear looking at him, the reason why he was left to die in Suribachi City. 

Would you ever be able to get over the guilt of that? Would Dazai be able to accept it? You had a heavy hand in ruining his life, is it enough that you saved him years later? He doesn’t know, he’s hardly even processed it, he just knows that he has to cling to what little he has left, dig his nails in and not let go even if it makes you choke on guilt, even if it makes him sick with shame. He won’t let go. 

“So impatient,” Mori sighs. “Your aunt hid you for almost another half a year, but she wasn’t able to move out of the Yokohama area. She did well though, I’ll give her that. We had our best trying to find you, but she was very careful. It was partially our own fault that we didn’t get our hands on you back then—some loyalists to your grandfather snuck under our radar, told her when we were closing in on the two of you. She got rid of you before we got to her… but we did get to her. Kouyou-kun was the one who handled her, if I recall it got quite… messy. I can’t imagine how it must feel knowing that your mother and aunt sacrificed themselves to protect you only for you to throw it all away in an arrogant attempt to reclaim your grandfather’s legacy.”

Dazai doesn’t even zero in on the last bit of what Mori says because he’s too busy trying to wrap his head around the rest of it. Aunt Kiye didn’t… die for him. Aunt Kiye hated him. He remembers that clear enough—he remembers how she could hardly stand to look at him, he remembers the way she was always so cold and rough with him, he remembers-

“You have to go, Osamu.” Aunt Kiye is shouting at him, and he’s sitting in the passenger seat of her car. He doesn’t move, he thinks maybe if he sits still enough, she won’t see him there and won’t make him leave. “Osamu, get out of the car and go, we don’t have time! They’ve found us.”

The name is still unfamiliar—he’s not used to it, and he doesn’t know if he likes it, but Aunt Kiye insists that Tsushima Shuji is dead and that name can never be uttered again. She gets mad when he doesn’t immediately answer to it, tells him not to let his mother’s death be in vain, and that’s usually enough to get him to stop being stubborn over it.

“Osamu, go!” She grabs his bicep hard to try to get his attention, but he flinches and squirms out of her grip, still not responding to her. He can’t remember the last time he’s spoken—he thinks maybe since they left the cabin that morning. “You-”

Aunt Kiye sounds angry now, but he can’t bring himself to look at her. It’s only when he hears her unbuckle and feels her start reaching over him that he starts to panic. He reaches up to grab her bicep, trying to stop her from grabbing the handle of the door to open it, but she’s stronger than him. He’s hardly been eating lately, and he’s never been particularly strong—he was always the smallest among his siblings. 

It takes no effort for her to bat his hands away, pushing open the door and unbuckling his seatbelt. He struggles against her as she tries to push him out of the car, and she’s still speaking—shouting at him, begging him, he thinks she might be crying too, but he can’t even tell. His mind is fogged with panic and fear—he doesn’t want to be alone in Suribachi City, he doesn’t want to be alone at all. He wants to stay with Aunt Kiye even if she hates him because he doesn’t want to be alone. 

Eventually, Aunt Kiye wins the fight—even with him fighting tooth and nail, she manages to push him out of the car. He hits the ground hard, gasping when he lands poorly on his elbow. He’s stunned for a moment by the shock and pain, and Aunt Kiye takes the chance to toss out a backpack from the back seat and close the door behind him, locking it quickly. 

“No!” His voice is raspy from lack of use over the past few months. He scrambles to his feet and tries to pry the door open but can’t. Aunt Kiye won’t even look at him, she stares ahead as she switches the car into gear and he slams his hands against the window. “Aunt Kiye! Aunt Kiye, don’t leave me here! Don’t leave me here, please, I’ll be better, I’ll do better, just don’t-”

He stumbles back as she pulls the car away, falling when he trips over the backpack onto the asphalt, scraping up his hands and forearms. He’s not sure how long he sits there staring after where the car disappeared waiting for her to come back for him.

She doesn’t.

She didn’t die for him, Dazai thinks again, nails digging crescents into his palm. She didn’t die for him, she couldn’t have. Dazai won’t believe it. Aunt Kiye hated him, she abandoned him in Suribachi—none of this can be true. It can’t. His mother killed herself to be free of him, not to protect him; and Aunt Kiye abandoned him because she hated him, not to save him.

That’s the truth. It has to be. They couldn’t have died for him—for him. It doesn’t make any sense. He doesn’t want to remember all of this—he was better off thinking that they hated him, that they wanted to be free of him.

He can feel you looking at him now, but Dazai is back to being unable to look at you. He’s staring down at the glass table looking at his reflection, his eyes are wide and dark and far too black—he looks warped, inhuman almost. His expression is blank, none of the turmoil within him is reflected on it, and he doesn’t even understand why. He thinks it’s probably just making him seem more guilty.

“We figured she left you somewhere in Suribachi City, but we weren’t able to track you down,” Mori says flippantly. Dazai wants him to stop talking, but he has a sick feeling things are only going to get worse from here. “Not until you ended up with Oda Sakunosuke, at least, we…”

Dazai’s ears ring at his old friend’s name. Mori is still talking, but his words become a distant buzz. Everything starts coming back to him at once—his time alone in Suribachi City, the weeks he spent rationing the little food he had, getting the shit kicked out of him by some low rung gang who stole his mother’s ring from him. He remembers giving up, questioning the point of his own existence with a detached logic that left him with only one answer—there was no point to his existence, so he was as good dead as he was alive. 

He remembers seeing on a sign that it was the eve of his fifteenth birthday, and he remembers dropping himself in the bay during a storm, hoping that the tide dragged him so far beneath the surface that he’d never see the light of day again.

He remembers waking up the next morning to an unfamiliar face at his bedside, brows knit in disapproval and lips turned down, and he distinctly remembers feeling put out by a stranger looking at him that way.

“What’s your name, kid?”

Dazai couldn’t remember anything but the name Aunt Kiye had drilled into him over and over again the past few months.

“Dazai Osamu.”

“Hm. Oda Sakunosuke. You got a family, Dazai?

Odasaku brought him in. 

Odasaku saved him. 

The doctors said he’d been dead for almost three minutes when Odasaku found him washed up on the beach—said his memory might return over time, but it might not—but Dazai didn’t even care, because Odasaku brought him in. He gave him a roof over his head, food to eat, and a reason to live. He sent him to school so he could feel like a normal kid his age. He played board games with him and didn’t even care when Dazai was a sore loser and quit mid-game when he realized he wouldn’t win. He humored Dazai when he faked being sick because he didn’t want to go to school. When Dazai was going through bad depressive episodes, Odasaku would sit with him silently and write his book so Dazai never felt alone. Odasaku introduced him to Ango and they were-

They were his friends.

Family, maybe.

They were all he had, and they were all he needed. 

And then-

“We were the ones who killed him.”

Dazai’s gaze drags up from the table to focus on Mori. The man’s lips are curved into a cruel smile, his eyes are sharp, and Dazai is moving before he can stop himself. He lunges across the table, but Mori doesn’t even flinch because Nakahara Chuuya grabs the back of his shirt and yanks him back down into his seat. 

“You-” Dazai spits, voice raspy and angry.

“Don’t look at me like that, we were trying to get to you,” Mori says casually as if the words don’t shatter Dazai’s entire world. “We would’ve loved to have Oda Sakunosuke amongst our ranks. His death was unfortunate. Collateral damage. He was an assassin for a long time—one of the best in the world. He was pretty much unkillable, his ability allowed him to see six seconds into the future. I never understood how our sniper managed to get him that day, but now I do. He saw you getting shot with his foresight and tried to pull you out of the way, but your ability is nullification, so when he touched you to save you, he damned himself. In those split seconds when he was pulling you to safety, he couldn’t see the future, and couldn’t see the bullets aimed for you that lodged into his chest instead.”

Dazai can’t do this anymore. He tries to push himself up to his feet but his legs are numb and uncooperative, and he can’t move his hands or arms. Mori’s lips part to continue speaking but Dazai can’t do this, he can’t hear anymore of this. He’d always known in his heart that Odasaku’s death was his fault even if he couldn’t remember much about his mother and Aunt Kiye and their desperate attempts to hide him from the Port Mafia. He’d known, but hearing it-hearing the confirmation, it’s too much for him.

Before Mori can say anything, Dazai is startled from his spiraling thoughts when you stand up so abruptly that your chair goes flying back. Your expression is haunted and you’re not looking at him again, but Dazai is glad for it, because he thinks he’s about to throw up.

“I… I need a minute. I just need a minute,” you say shakily before fleeing the room into Mori’s office so quickly that you almost trip over the chair you knocked over.

The room is silent in your wake, and after a few impossibly long moments, Mori stands to follow you into the other room. The three Port Mafia executives left in the room don’t say anything for a moment, and Dazai is just trying to breathe. He’s trying to breathe and process what Mori just said, but he’s failing miserably at it. 

It’s the woman, Kouyou, who speaks first.

“She’s going to kill me for knowing about this,” she says simply, sparing a glance down at the dead body on her opposite side. “I’ve never seen her like this before. Even when Chuuya-kun went missing for a few days, this…”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have conspired against her,” Piano Man sings, looking entirely unperturbed. “I mean honestly, after what the previous boss did to you, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic. Silly me to think you aren’t a cold-hearted bitch.”

Dazai tries to pay attention to what they’re saying, he tries to ground himself with the conversation happening so he can forget the feeling of Odasaku’s blood all over his hands, staining his clothes, smeared on his face. He tries to replace Mori’s echoing words with what they’re saying but he can’t.

“We were trying to get to you.”

“It has nothing to do with sympathy,” Kouyou snaps, but she does look ashamed. “It’s a security threat, it’s bigger than love. This boy could spell the end of everything we’ve built.”

“She won’t kill you, Ane-san,” Chuuya finally speaks up, his knuckles are tight around the armrest of the chair he’s sitting in. “I’ll talk to her, I just-”

“When he touched you to save you, he damned himself.”

“Chuuya-kun, she almost killed you,” Kouyou says so dryly that the words almost don’t even register to Dazai, but when they do, they’re the only thing that effectively draws him from his spiraling thoughts. He looks at Chuuya sharply to see if what Kouyou said was true, and his eyes widen when he only grimaces and looks down. “You and Piano Man. She didn’t even hesitate before pulling the trigger on Ace. She’s unstable right now, there’s no talking to her.”

“But she didn’t,” Chuuya says tightly. “I’ll talk to her, but first…”

Chuuya looks at Dazai so suddenly that he almost wants to snap his head away and ignore him, but he can’t. The ginger studies Dazai so intensely that it makes him want to crawl out of his own skin.

“Did you know?” Chuuya asks, voice low. He’s angry, Dazai can tell from the way a dark red color starts to flicker around his hands, but he’s trying to keep it together. “Tell me. Did you know who she was and use her to get closer to the Mafia for revenge? I’ll spare her the pain of having to put a bullet through your fucking head and kill you myself right now. Did you know who she was and purposely-”

“No,” Dazai interrupts, voice hoarse. “No. I didn’t-I didn’t know.”

Chuuya stares at him for a few seconds, studying him like he doesn’t know if he actually believes him, but after what feels like an eternity, he finally shakes his head and looks away, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Fuck, this is such a mess,” Chuuya breathes out, voice strained. “Fuck. She-”

Chuuya doesn’t finish his sentence because the door to Mori’s office reopens and you step back into the room, Mori at your heels. Your eyes are red, but your expression is withdrawn now, void of the tumultuous emotions that had been raging across it just a few minutes before. You settle back in your seat. Your eyes flit over Dazai like he’s not even there before focusing on Mori.

Dazai suddenly has a bad feeling.

“I’m not quite sure how you escaped us after that,” Mori continues where he left off, and Dazai is so sick of the man’s voice that he almost wants to rip his own ears off. “Probably Sakaguchi-san from the SDUP, I recall him and Oda-san being close… but that brings us to the present, doesn’t it? Four years later, you stumble into our lovely hime… Come, dear, let me tell you my running theory, and you tell me how accurate I am, yeah?”

Mori is looking at you now, eyes glittering as he waits for your response. Dazai has his own serious issues with the man, but he thinks it’s sick the way he’s enjoying your clear discomfort and increasing distress. Your jaw tightens a bit, but you nod, signaling for Mori to speak. Dazai’s nails dig into his pants as he waits for Mori to continue. Neither of you look at him, and Dazai’s lips part to speak so he can preemptively deny whatever Mori is about to accuse him of, but he can’t push a single word out. 

“Your first meeting with him wasn’t by chance. A cafe, maybe… a bar?” Mori offers, watching your face carefully for a reason. You look away at the second option, and the man’s lips curve up. “A bar, then. One you frequent, I bet. The one in Hodogaya-ku, perhaps? Your first meeting, but not Shuji-kun’s first time seeing you. Ui Koutarou—his journalism professor at YNU—wrote his first article implicating the Mori Corporation’s connection with the Port Mafia in February of this year, around a month before rising fourth year students register for classes. Shuji-kun, naturally, has been following anything related to the Port Mafia closely, so when he sees a class being offered in the fall by the same man who has been openly targeting the Port Mafia, he sees an opportunity and signs up for the class.”

No, Dazai tries to say. His lips form the word, but the sound doesn’t come from his lips. No. No, no, no, no. You look haunted suddenly, and Dazai remembers the argument he had with you during the government event in Tokyo. How cold and withdrawn you’d become. How when he confronted you next, you accused him of working with Ui Koutarou and blackmailing you for money. Mori is reigniting all of the initial fears you once had.

“Ui-san has had his sights set on you for quite a while, dear. You don’t need me to tell you that, you’re very well aware of the man’s hatred of you… When Shuji-kun started classes in the fall, Ui-san roped him into his plans, and you became his project. That wretched man had many documents on you. I had the Black Lizards raid his apartment after we captured him—most were harmless, detailing places you frequented and people seen around you, but when Shuji-kun became involved, he started using that information to manufacture meetings between you. I imagine that after you met him that first time, he started appearing around you rather regularly. Bump-ins at that cafe you like in Minami-ku, on the streets—he even started renting an apartment on property that we own after he realized the opportunity he had with Ui… he’s only been living there since the summer, you know?”

His last apartment wasn’t close enough to the school, Dazai wants to argue desperately. He’d been lucky that a cheap apartment opened up in Hodogaya-ku before the semester started—he’s been trying to get one since his first year. It has nothing to do with-

Dazai suddenly feels nauseous again, everything is spinning around him—he still hears Aunt Kiye screaming at him, he still hears the creaking of the rope his mother hung himself on, he still hears Mori’s confirming that Odasaku’s death was his fault. And now this, and you’re not looking at him again, and he’s not saying anything, why isn’t he saying anything? Why isn’t he denying this?

“He attached himself to you quickly, didn’t he?” Mori asks rhetorically. “Too quickly, I’m sure you had doubts—not even your ability makes people reliant on you as swift as he became. How long did it take for him to start prying for information? Trying to make you slip up and implicate yourself with the Mafia? Confess yourself as an ability user?”

The night of the earthquake when you showed up at his apartment, he remembers dizzily. He started pressing you on your political opinion because he remembered Ui saying that all of the criminal syndicates in Japan are going to do whatever it takes to prevent the military bill from passing. But he wasn’t… doing it to prove anything? He just wanted to know more about you, he was curious, he was finally putting the mystery that you are together. It wasn’t malicious—he just wanted to know you. That’s all it ever was, he’s only ever wanted to know you.

“When did you tell him about your ability? More about our organization? Around when the Guild started making their move in Yokohama, I’m sure. He never told you about his ability until his hand was forced. In fact, I’m willing to bet he lied and said he didn’t know he had one, but tell me, do you really think an assassin of the caliber of Oda Sakunosuke would not realize his ward had an ability that negated his own? That he wouldn’t be trained in how to use it… Most importantly, if all of this wasn’t a scheme of revenge—if he really did love you—then why did he never get rid of the flash drive that contained the proof that his journalism house published? The proof that got you thrown in prison?”

You’re crying.

Dazai’s throat swells when he sees the tears silently tracking over your cheeks. At once, he realizes that he’s never seen you cry before; he itches to reach over to you, to grab your hand or wipe away the tears. He doesn’t—partially because he doesn’t think he could move if he tried, but mostly because he knows that he���s the reason you’re crying. 

He wants to assure you that none of this is true. He had nothing to do with the Guild—they kidnapped him for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know about his ability, he didn’t even know Odasaku was an assassin. And he was just… careless with the flash drive, and he shouldn’t have been, but there was always so much going on, and he was so new to having someone in his life that really loved him that he was quick to bask in it and forget everything else.

He doesn’t assure you of anything, instead he watches as Mori reaches out to do what Dazai wants to do. He brushes away your tears and turns your face to look at him, a disgustingly sympathetic look on his face.

“I know you were eager to believe that someone could love you without your ability at work influencing them, dear,” Mori murmurs, “but people like us will never find a love that pure. There will always be other factors at work sullying it—wealth, revenge, threats. You understand now what this was, don’t you?”

No, Dazai wants to scream at you. He does love you, this wasn’t some ridiculous revenge plot for family he hardly remembered until this meeting, that-

“I do.”

Dazai finally is able to make a noise when those two words leave your lips. It’s weak—something caught between a wheeze and a whimper that sounds too loud in the silent room. He feels eyes on him—Chuuya and Kouyou’s in particular. Not yours. You stare down at the table.

“Ogai-dono,” Kouyou clears her throat. “If I may… perhaps we could… send the boy away. Abroad. Ensure he never comes back to Japan so we don’t have to risk him coming back and disrupting things.”

“We could give him a seat at the table,” Chuuya interrupts, ignoring the wide-eyed look both Kouyou and Piano Man give him because of the radical idea. “We’re down an executive anyway. We tell people who he is, that he supports the new regime. It’s what you wanted to begin with, right, boss? You wanted one of the grandchildren to legitimize the passing of power. We could make it work.”

“It’s too risky.” Mori isn’t the one to speak, Piano Man is, but he doesn’t look happy to do it. “Maybe back then it could’ve worked, but the Port Mafia killed his friends and family, and hunted him down. Too much has happened, he’s an unpredictable variable that we can’t risk. We can’t trust that he’ll just accept it all, that he won’t work behind the scenes to take us down. Giving him any leverage in the organization is the last thing we should do, but what Kouyou-”

“Leave him alive and we risk everything we’ve built falling apart—a civil war igniting, Yokohama being caught in the crossfires and all of our foreign enemies crawling into the city to reap the benefits of our fall. It’s one life or hundreds—thousands, even,” Mori interrupts, voice cool. He turns his gaze onto you. “I trust you know what has to be done, dear.”

Your expression is resolved, a heavy emotion in your eyes that tells him your answer before you even speak. “Yeah, I know.”

You stand up, and Dazai knows that it’s over. When you look down at him, it’s with a type of apathy that makes his stomach twist—he’d rather hate than nothing. His lips part to speak but he pauses when you shake your head slightly, so subtly that he almost doesn’t even notice it.

“Get up,” you say flatly, and then glance at Chuuya. “Chuuya, will you…?” 

“Yeah,” Chuuya replies without you even needing to finish the question. His voice is hoarse, he looks more than a little disturbed. “Yeah. Of course.”

Chuuya rises to his feet and then grabs Dazai’s bicep to pull him up to his feet too. Dazai doesn’t even have the heart to give him a dirty look in response, following along as he leads him out of the conference room and into the hallway. 

For a split second, Dazai really believes that maybe you’re just trying to fool Mori, you made him think you were taking Dazai to have him killed so that you can get him out of here safely, but even once you’re out of the conference room without Mori’s eyes carefully watching you, you don’t look at him.

“Get one of the clean up crews up here,” you tell one of the guards waiting in the hall instead as you frown at your phone, typing out a quick text to someone. You pointedly ignore how alarmed they are by the offhand comment to click on the button to the elevator.

When you look back at the two of them, it’s not to look at Dazai—it’s to look at Chuuya. The two of you are having a conversation, Dazai can tell that much, and he thinks that maybe he should be putting in the effort to figure out what’s going on, what you have planned, but he’s just… tired. He’s not even sure if he cares what happens to him anymore, and he figures the worst case scenario is that he dies at your hands, and of all of the ways he could go, he thinks that would be the most preferable, because at least you would be the last thing he saw.

He doesn’t try to speak again until the three of you are in the elevator and the doors have closed. 

“I-”

“Stop.”

Dazai is startled by the sharpness in your voice. He looks at you, but you’re still not looking at him, your lips are curved down as you stare at your phone, typing furiously. He glances up into the left corner of the elevator, noticing the cameras—maybe that’s why, he thinks a bit unsurely, deciding to stay quiet until out of the building. 

When the elevator doors open, it’s Chuuya that urges him to keep walking by nudging his shoulder. You don’t touch him, don’t look at him. There’s nobody in the main entrance of the building, which Dazai thinks is a bit odd, but he bites back any comments he might have when he sees a black car waiting outside the building.

The doors to the building open at your approach, and Dazai inhales the crisp, fresh air greedily, not even having realized how stifled he’d felt in that room with Mori, you, and the other Port Mafia executives. He thinks maybe that you’ll sit in the backseat with him and he’ll finally be able to talk to you, but you don’t. You open the door to the passenger seat and sit there without even sparing him a glance.

Dazai’s throat starts to swell again, stopping in his tracks as he stares at where you disappeared behind the car door. Chuuya pushes him forward, not letting him linger for long—he opens the door to the backseat and pretty much manhandles Dazai into the car before taking a seat next to him.

He recognizes the person at the wheel—Albatross, your friend. He’s driven you and Dazai around before, every time Dazai gets in the car with him, he makes a sharp comment aimed to embarrass you in some manner. This time, he doesn’t even look at Dazai through the rearview mirror. He just puts the car in gear and starts driving.

A pit starts to form in Dazai’s stomach. Dazai tries to initiate conversation with you again now that you’re outside of the Port Mafia headquarters within closed quarters, nails scraping against his pants as he decides what he wants to say.

“I d-”

“Stop.”

When you cut him off now, Dazai’s stomach flips. He stares at the side of your face, trying to understand why you won’t even listen to him. You can’t actually believe what Mori was saying, you can’t. You were faking him out, tricking him into thinking you fell for it—you had to be, you have to be. You can’t possibly believe him. 

“You won’t… even hear me out?” Dazai asks you quietly.

“There’s nothing left to say.”

Oh, Dazai thinks to himself, withdrawing. He stares at you for a moment before turning away stiffly, expression tight and strained as he stares out the window, watching the buildings pass by as they get closer and closer to the ports. 

You believe it, he realizes dully. You believe that it was all just a scheme. You believe that everything was manufactured, that he used you for some fantastical revenge plan, that he never loved you. You believe it.

But it doesn’t make sense, he thinks desperately. He doesn’t understand how you’re not seeing through it, and if you are, why aren’t you at least giving him some hint? He should try to say something again—he knows that, but he finds himself unable to. He’s a smooth-talker, quick on his feet, but never when it comes to you—since the day he met you, he’s been fumbling over words awkwardly, but now it’s costing him everything. He finds ash in his mouth preventing him from salvaging anything he might’ve had with you.

Dig your nails in and cling, he reminds himself, but his nails have become rounded out and blunted from how long he was scratching at his pants and skin while remembering all those memories he locked away. He tries to dig his nails in and cling, but his voice fails him and his nails can’t even find purchase on your skin, you slip out of his hands as easily as an eel.

He’s going to lose you. He might’ve lost you already.

Dazai thinks that’s worse than the realization that he really might be about to die.

The car comes to a stop much quicker than Dazai had hoped, and he stiffens when you waste no time before getting out of the car. He makes no move to join you outside, and Chuuya sighs next to him.

“Get out,” Chuuya says flatly. When Dazai doesn’t budge again, Chuuya snaps, “Get out of the car-”

“-and go, we don’t have time! They’ve found us.”

Dazai draws his knees to his chest, breath becoming a bit labored as his aunt’s voice echoes in his ears. He doesn’t even realize that Chuuya has gotten out of the car until Dazai’s car door is pried open. For a split second, he confuses the executive with his aunt as he’s yanked out of the car—he’s fourteen again and being abandoned by the only person he has left, and he can just barely bite back the “don’t leave me here!” that almost spills from his lips as his knees hit the ground hard.

Dazai is instantly hit with a thick scent that makes him gag. It’s noxious, almost entirely unbearable, clogs his throat to the point he almost struggles to breathe—a blend of rot, acrid chemicals, and something he doesn’t recognize, but it’s sickeningly sweet. As he pushes himself to his feet, he notices you pass your gun over to Chuuya, but in that moment, Dazai is more concerned with figuring out where he is, and when he does, his stomach drops.

The dumping grounds by ports stretch endlessly under the heavy, overcast sky. Mounds of trash rose like grotesque hills patched with scraps of torn plastic and suspicious lumps that Dazai doesn’t have to get close to know what they are. The ground is uneven and treacherous—a mix of sticky mud and sharp shards of discarded glass and plastic, and pools of murky water shimmering with oil slicks. 

It’s disgusting, and Dazai has a feeling it might be his final resting place. 

He trails over to the side of the road and his gaze tracks down to the ground directly below him. It’s not a far drop, hardly a foot or two, and certainly less gross than some of the other parts of the area, but that’s a low bar to meet. He tears his eyes away from the scenery around him to look back at you, lips parted to speak but he doesn’t say anything.

You’re leaning against the front of the car, watching him with an expression that Dazai can’t describe. Sad, maybe, resigned. Chuuya is back in the car, from what Dazai can tell, he's still fiddling with your gun—he wonders if this is his way of letting the two of you say goodbye in private.

“I do love you,” Dazai says. His voice cracks over the words. “No ulterior motives. No schemes. I just loved you. Love you.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, eyes drawing from him somewhere over to the side like you’re looking for something, but after a moment, you look back at him, your face a little softer than it was before.

“I know,” you tell him quietly. “I know, Osamu.”

Dazai’s lips part to say something back—he doesn’t even know what he wants to say, because confusion fogs his mind. If you know, then why-

Why are you doing this?

He doesn’t get the chance to ask. The car door opens and Chuuya steps back out, he passes your gun back to you and Dazai sees you subtly slide something into his hand too, but he can’t tell what it is. You sigh as you look down at the gun before looking back up at him again, he holds his breath as you make your way closer to him.

His lashes flutter shut, expecting to feel the cool barrel of the gun against his forehead, but his breath hitches when he instead feels the familiar warmth of your hand cradling his cheek. Your fingertips are flaked with Ace’s dried blood, but Dazai still leans into your touch, eyes sliding back open to look at you.

Up close, your expression is twisted with regret and… is that fear? Dazai can’t tell, he doesn’t care, he’s more preoccupied with memorizing the image of you before he runs out of time to.

“Forgive me,” you whisper so faintly that Dazai almost doesn’t hear you.

“I do,” he replies just as softly.

Your face crumbles as you look away. You take a step away from him, and your hand drops down from his face. Dazai instantly mourns the loss. You let out a heavy, shaky breath, sparing one last look down at the gun in your hand, one to Chuuya who stands half a step behind you, and then you look at Dazai again.

“Forgive me,” you say again, this time as you lift the gun—your voice is raspy, breath uneven.

Your fingers tremble so violently that the whole gun is unsteady, but Dazai doesn’t even care to look at it, gaze focused on your face instead. 

“I do,” Dazai repeats.

You pull the trigger. 

[endearng]

Special Guest

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: Olivia's birthday is coming up. She has a special guest in mind. WC: 1.7k Warnings: mentions of absent fathers (sorry); reader is borderline paranoid about letting her kid down; they are pining hard - Spencer looks at reader not so respectfully. Please, let me know if I missed anything. A/N: I try my best to not describe the reader so that everyone feels included, but I feel like I should work better on that. If you have any advice on it, I'd be very thankful to hear it! Second fic in less than 24h, ohmy. This is a second part to 'Stranger danger' Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

A few weeks had passed after the incident with the power in your building. Since then, you saw Spencer sometimes and he always greeted you politely. Olivia once told you that she liked him so much because he was a nice ghost — he told her stories about the books he read and she absolutely loved them, going to the point of asking if she could borrow them once he had finished reading.

Little did she know, she would never have to wait long.

Their interactions always made you speechless. How was your 5-year-old daughter better than you at starting conversations? You could barely look him in the eye, despite the fact that he always made sure to flash you the brightest smiles. You reciprocated, but then Olivia always had something to say: about his funny clothes, about the book she was reading for school, about your moments together — you had a scheduled commitment every Friday, to take Olivia to wherever she wanted to go. She was very observant, and, just like you, had the habit of taking mental notes of the beautiful places you saw during your walks. That's how she knew where the public library was and knew the best coffee in town — she demanded having the same beverage as you, but you told the barista secretly to make it decaf.

As you both put on your shoes in the morning to leave the apartment, you said, "Oli, your birthday is coming up. Do you want to do anything with mommy?"

"I want a birthday party."

That made you freeze in your tracks for a moment. You've been avoiding throwing birthday parties for two years now, because Olivia's day always ended with a tinge of heartbreak by the absence of her father, who had decided to leave the both of you and move overseas to, maybe, start over. It hurt you to try to comfort her with something you didn't have control of, but you did it anyway because you'd rather hurt yourself than let your baby go through that kind of disappointment alone. You didn't really know what he was up to, and honestly, you didn't want to, either. You were doing just fine without him, but she was his daughter and still a child, so you knew she still missed him.

Your hands were shaking slightly as you tied her shoelaces. "Bunny ears, remember?" You asked softly, showing her how to do it: you always did it in the mornings, but you made sure to teach her in case they undid during her day at school. She nodded at you, flashing a little toothless smile. "Okay, baby, we'll do that," you smiled, trying to ease off the tension.

"I want invitation cards. Like the ones you had!" She said, excitedly. You huffed out a laugh, endeared by the fact that she remembered all the papers you showed her with photos and other memories of your childhood.

"No problem, baby," you said, getting up, smoothing your pencil skirt and opening the door. She went to the hall to press the elevator button, "we can do it." You said, more to yourself than to her.

Two weeks passed and you had everything ready for Olivia's birthday with the help of your closests friends, Victoria and Jude. You were planning on throwing her party at your parents' house, which had a big, beautiful yard with space enough for the kids to play all they wanted. You had ordered Olivia's favorite cake, red velvet, and a lot of other treats that you knew she loved.

"You know she'll be drunk on sugar, right?" Victoria asked, laughing. She remembered the last time she took Olivia to the movies and she was electric during the way back.

"It's her birthday, once a year won't kill her. Maybe it'll kill me, but eh, what's the matter?" You joked lightly and your friends laughed.

Jude had a checklist in her hands. "Okay, let's go over this so we can go back to our yearly drinking like there's no tomorrow date. We have the place, the food, the decoration... oh, no. Where are the invitations?"

"Oh, I got it. They're in my room. I had to put it away because Oli wanted to read them over and over again."

They nodded as you left your living room, walking down the hall so you could get said invitations. You felt dread creeping up on you when you couldn't find them in the top drawer of your bedside table. "I can't find them!" You yelled loud enough for the women to hear you.

"Are you sure you placed them here?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Not sure what happened, though." You murmured, already feeling a little disappointed. "I gotta look for it now. She drew it herself and I took a lot of copies. I can't possibly tell her I lost them, she would be heartbroken." You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Victoria approached you to rub your arm, trying to comfort you. "Hey, we can look for it. We still have time." Jude said, smiling reassuringly.

"I know, I just don't wanna be too late." You said, giving them a tight-lipped smile.

So, you started looking for it in every corner of your apartment. You stayed in your bedroom, while Jude and Victoria went to Olivia's. You had cleaned the apartment today, a Saturday, when your daughter somsgimdz went to your parents', so that you'd have free time to spend and catch up with your friends. It was almost sundown, daylight fading softly and the lighting in your room was becoming darker as time went by. Suddenly, you heard your bell. Weird. You weren't expecting anybody.

"I'll get that!" You let your friends know.

Opening the door, you weren't expecting your neighbor. Rephrasing: the neighbor who Olivia adored so much. Spencer. That works, too. He has a name, after all. "Hey, hi!" He greeted you with a grin, looking shy.

"Hey, you!" You greeted him back. "Is everything okay?" You asked, a little unsure.

You took in his appearance. He looked tired, that's for sure, but it didn't stop him from looking like the most gorgeous man in existence. He wore his usual attire, carrying his caramel satchel leather bag. You didn't have an immediate answer, so you gulped when you noticed that you were looking a little longer than what's socially acceptable.

"Yeah, it's fine," he chuckled, unable to hold your stare for a moment longer. He considered, for a moment, that your daughter was the element needed for him to have a little confidence to speak when you were around. Well, shit. "I — um. I think these belong to you. I found it when I opened the door to my apartment." He handed you a bunch of papers. You blushed. You busied yourself so much with admiring him that you failed to notice that he had something in his hands.

He studied you for a moment. You looked beautiful that day. Not that you didn't look beautiful all the times you've seen him, but oh, well. Like the first time you met, you were wearing a dress. It was blue and it stopped mid-thigh. He had to stop himself from gulping at the sight of your bare, plush legs. It was different from what he was used to seeing you wear on working days, during the eventual elevator meetings. The dress hugged your curves beautifully, there was no question, like it had been made just for you. Your hair was loose and it fell over your shoulders. When you first answered the door, you had a worried frown on your face, but it quickly disappeared with his words. He felt relieved to see you get rid of your distress.

"Oh, goodness! Sorry about that. I was just looking for these." You gladly took them from his hand and your fingers accidentally brushed his. His hands were warm. "Olivia must have slided them under your door gap," you laughed nervously. You could feel two pairs of eyes looking at the interaction before them. You needed to brace yourself for their questions and very much possible teasing.

"Yeah, yeah. I supposed she did that, too." He laughed, quietly.

You thought for a moment. "You know, you should go. She really likes you. Talks about your conversations all the time and says she misses you when we don't run into you at some point." You revealed. It made Spencer's heart soar in his chest.

"Really?" He couldn't help but smile, even if he couldn't believe it. Not that you were a liar, but that it meant so much to your daughter to talk to him now and then. He felt alive at that moment, felt wanted. “I don’t want to impose.”

"Yeah, I mean, no! No problem, you wouldn’t be. We’d like to have you." You said, smile adorning your face. You took a card from your hands, offering it to him. "With us, I mean. It's going to be at my parents' house, we'll have a bunch of kids running around and cake." You surely looked like an idiot.

We’d like to have you, was all that he could hear.

Did you want him there for him or just because he was kind to your daughter?

Either way, "Thanks. I'll do my best to be there." He said, utterly happy. Saying your name lowly, followed by a 'goodbye', made your heart jump in your chest. You replied with a wave and a small grin. Your cheeks were sore from all the smiling. It was inevitable.

You turned around and had barely closed the door when Jude said, a little louder than her usual tone, "So, I see you found the invitation cards. I hope you gave one for Olivia's birthday party, not for a hot date." She playfully scolded you.

With wide eyes, you banged the door closed and turned around to yell, "Jude! What???"

Little did you know, Spencer heard it all. You know, thin walls, small distance and all. He grinned to himself, face flushed a deep red.

He was definitely looking forward to seeing you. And Olivia, too, of course. It was her birthday, after all.

[bethsvrse]

★ WHISPER CHALLENGE ★

PAIRING Hugh Jackman x actress!reader

WARNINGS little spicy at the end but other then that it’s just fluff

The lights brighten, the band strikes up a tune, and the studio audience is buzzing with excitement. Jimmy Fallon’s voice cuts through the noise with his signature infectious energy.

“Welcome back, everyone!” Jimmy Fallon’s voice booms over the studio, pulling the crowd’s attention back to the stage. “Tonight, we have a very special guest with us! She’s an incredible actress, a producer, a writer, and she just so happens to be starring in the new film Little Light. Please give it up for Y/N Jackman!”

You step onto the stage, beaming as the audience erupts into cheers and applause. You wave, offering them that warm, genuine smile you’ve perfected over the years. Settling into the guest chair, you take a moment to appreciate the atmosphere—there’s something so alive about being on Jimmy’s show.

Jimmy beams at you, leaning forward in his chair, the playful glint in his eyes unmistakable. “I have to say, Y/N, it’s great to have you back. You’re always such a fun guest, and now you’re starring in Little Light — which I’ve heard so many incredible things about. It’s a powerful story.”

You nod, crossing one leg over the other as you settle in. “Yes, uh Little Light is really close to my heart. It’s about a mother who experiences a miscarriage and finds an unexpected connection with her neighbor’s granddaughter, who’s staying with her grandmother for the summer.”

Jimmy nods, looking thoughtful. “That sounds like such a moving story, I’m so excited to watch it. And—if I’m not mistaken—you’re starring in the movie alongside your own daughter, River?”

A smile crosses your face, a mix of pride and affection filling your voice. “Yes, that’s right. River plays the granddaughter in the film, and she’s absolutely phenomenal. I mean, I’m biased, obviously, but she blew me away on set. She’s 16 now and really coming into her own as an actress. She’s got such natural talent, and working with her… it’s been such an incredible experience.”

The audience lets out a collective “aww,” and Jimmy grins, his eyes widening in that playful way he has. “Sixteen?! She’s already acting with her mum—how cool is that?”

“Yeah, sixteen going on thirty, I swear,” you joke, shaking your head with a smile. “But, to be honest, it hasn’t been easy. With her rising career, my work, Hugh’s work, we’re constantly on the move. It’s hard to balance everything sometimes. And right now, she’s back at the hotel, actually. She wasn’t feeling too great, so she’s watching this on TV, probably critiquing every word I say.” You chuckle and wave at the camera. “Hey, sweetie! Get well soon, I love you.” You added with a small kiss to the camera.

Jimmy leans forward conspiratorially. “So, does she give you notes after interviews like this?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you reply, grinning. “She’ll text me after every appearance like, ‘Mum, why did you say that?’ or ‘You looked a bit awkward there.’ She’s brutally honest. But I love it.”

Jimmy laughs along with you before shifting in his chair. “You know, something else I heard… and you can tell me if this is true… you haven’t seen Hugh in almost a year?”

“Sadly, that is correct,” you say with a wistful sigh. “With Little Light being an Australian movie, we filmed it there—which, don’t get me wrong, was absolutely amazing to be back home—but it meant that River and I were always across the world. We’d typically be filming in America, so a 10-hour flight was manageable to visit Hugh. But an 18-hour one? Neither of us could do it with filming so it’s been tough. FaceTime has been our best friend at the moment,” you joked with a small laugh, trying to lighten the tension in the room that Jimmy could definitely feel, not so much the audience though.

Jimmy looks genuinely sympathetic. “That’s gotta be so hard, especially after all this time together. But you two… you’ve been through a lot, and you always seem to make it work.”

You nod appreciatively. “We do. We’ve been married for a long time now, and we’ve gotten pretty good at the long-distance thing. But it’s never easy. The reunions, though… those are always something special.”

After some more laughs and talking about the movie, it’s time for the commercial break. You sip some water, chatting briefly with Jimmy off-camera, as the stagehands move around preparing for the next segment.

As the cameras roll back on, Jimmy is already in game mode. “Alright, Y/N! You know we love to play games here, so I figured we’d try something a little fun,” he says, holding up a pair of headphones.

You laugh softly, already anticipating whatever wild challenge is coming. “Oh boy, what have you got in store for me, Jimmy?”

“We’re gonna play the ‘Whisper Challenge!’” he announces, holding up the headphones for the audience to see. “I’m going to wear these headphones and try to guess what you’re saying while I listen to loud music, then it’ll be your turn. Sound good?”

You nod, leaning back in your chair with a playful glint in your eyes. “Sounds great!“

Jimmy slips on his headphones and gives you a thumbs-up. The music starts blasting in his ears, and you mouth the phrase silently, moving your lips in exaggerated fashion.

Jimmy squints at you, clearly baffled. “Uh… Salad dressing?” he guesses.

The audience erupts into laughter as you shake your head, mouthing the phrase again.

“Santa’s resting?” Jimmy tries again, causing another round of laughter.

You give him one more exaggerated mouth of the phrase. “Shopping center?” He said confused, “I’m so bad at this,” he said, much more loudly then he meant form the music coming from his head phones.

You repeated the words once more, putting on as much emphasis as you could and you watched as Jimmy’s face lit up. “Little Light! Little Light!” He said excitedly before taking off his headphones, “it was little light right?” He asked almost worried.

You let out a small laugh with a nod, “yes, yes it was little light.”

“Whew! I was worried I’d never get that one. I wasn’t even close as well, Santa’s resting? Where did I get that,” Jimmy chuckles, slipping off his headphones and shaking his head in amusement. “Alright, your turn!”

He hands you the headphones, and as you place them over your ears, you give him a grin. The loud music blasts into your ears almost immediately, and you can't help but laugh to yourself—this was definitely River’s favorite song. She’d been playing it nonstop in the car, at home… pretty much everywhere.

Jimmy raises his voice slightly to speak over the music, “What’s playing?”

You respond without thinking, still adjusting the headphones so they were no longer on your ears. “What? Oh shit—wait, are we playing yet?! Sorry for swearing! My bad!” you blurt out, the apology spilling out before you even register Jimmy laughing across from you.

“No, no! You’re good!” Jimmy reassures you, still chuckling. “I asked you what song was playing.” He repeated

“It’s murder on the dance floor,” you answered, “River absolutely loves this song.” You added, flashing him a sheepish grin before putting the headphones back on. The game begins, and as Jimmy starts mouthing words, you do your best to concentrate, squinting as if that might help you somehow decipher the movements of his lips.

“your husband is behind you.” He said, emphasing the word.

You tilt your head, not quite catching what he said. “The tour is behind me? What?” You shrug, honestly still a little distracted by the music.

The audience suddenly bursts into loud cheers, and you notice the energy in the room shift. Your brow furrows in confusion as you glance back at Jimmy, who’s now practically glowing with excitement. He repeats himself slowly, exaggerating every word, “YOUR HUSBAND… IS BEHIND YOU.”

Before you can even process what he’s saying, you feel a pair of hands gently land on your shoulders. You jump slightly, your headphones slipping off as you whirl around—only to see Hugh standing right there, grinning down at you.

Your eyes go wide, your mouth falling open in shock. Without thinking, you spin in your chair, shifting to kneel on the cushion so you can throw your arms around him. The audience erupts into applause and cheers as you hug him tightly, not even caring that you’re half-perched on the chair. You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, savoring the moment of finally having him close after so long apart.

Hugh chuckles softly, his voice warm and full of affection. “Missed me?”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, still in disbelief. “You have no idea,” you whisper, your smile so big it almost hurts. “Oh my god.”

Jimmy laughs, clapping his hands together as the audience’s cheers grow louder. "Hugh Jackman, everybody!" he calls out, standing up and joining in the applause.

Hugh gives a small wave to the audience before turning his attention back to you. You’re still in shock, hands covering your mouth as you try to comprehend what just happened. The cameras catch every second of your raw, genuine reaction, and it’s clear to everyone that this moment means everything to you.

Jimmy, ever the showman, grins and says, “I think we just had the best Whisper Challenge moment in history right here!”

You laugh, watching as Hugh comes to sit next to you. “I did not expect that. You sneaky bastard,” you joke, playfully swatting his arm.

Hugh chuckles, his arm resting behind you. “I figured I’d surprise you, and when Jimmy reached out to me about it, I thought, ‘Why not?’ It’s been way too long.”

Jimmy leans forward, loving every second of this wholesome interaction. “So, Hugh, how did you manage to keep this a secret from Y/N?”

“Oh, it wasn’t easy,” Hugh admits, smirking. “I had to avoid every FaceTime call for the last few days so I wouldn’t slip up. But it was worth it.”

You shake your head, still smiling, feeling your heart swell with happiness. “I can’t believe you pulled this off.”

Hugh chuckles, taking your hand in his. “It was just too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

Jimmy sits back down, looking at Hugh with newfound enthusiasm. “Alright, Hugh, now that you’re here, I’ve gotta ask—how excited are you to see Little Light?”

Hugh’s eyes light up. “Oh, I’m thrilled! I’ve seen some early footage, and it’s incredible. I tried to get Y/N to show me more but she won’t budge.”

You laugh, looking over at him lovingly, “just because your my husband doesn’t mean you get special treatment.” You teased

“I showed you unreleased Deadpool and Wolverine footage!” Hugh defended with a smile.

“You wanted to! You said you desperately needed someone to talk to about it because Ryan was annoying you.” You replied

“I did not say that. Stop putting words in my mouth,” he says with a small shake of his head but still having a smile on his face.

“I’m not putting words in your mouth! If anything River is because she told me that’s what you said on the phone!” You said, Hugh letting out a laugh, muttering of course she did under his breath.

“Speaking of River, what do you think about her acting career? I mean, she’s following in her parents’ footsteps in a big way.” Jimmy asked with a smile

Hugh’s face softens with pride as he talks about his daughter. “I’m incredibly proud of her. She’s got so much talent and dedication. Watching her grow and develop her craft has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. She’s worked so hard, and seeing her succeed is just amazing. We have to get all of us in a film together.” He added with a soft laugh.

“I’m sure she’s jumping up and down in the hotel room because she gets to see her dad again.” Jimmy smiles.

“I can actually call her,” Hugh mentions casually as he brings out his phone.

“Oh my god, yes.” Jimmy nodded, leaning in as it rang.

“You can get mad at her for being sick,” you told Jimmy with a smirk.

The phone rings a few more times before River picks up, her voice immediately full of energy. “Oh my god,I can’t believe you’re here!” She explained happily. “I wish I was there. Why the hell did I have to be sick today of all days.” She sighed, “I do have to say that if you don’t come straight to the hotel after the interview I will genuinely never speak to you again.”

Hugh laughs softly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "You heard that, right? No pressure or anything." He looks at you and Jimmy with a grin.

"She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she?" Jimmy teases, leaning forward as if he’s sharing a secret.

You nod, chiming in with a smirk, “Completely. He doesn’t stand a chance.”

River’s voice comes through the speaker, playfully annoyed. “Mum, don’t gang up on him! I’m sick, remember?”

“Oh trust me, I know,” you say, feigning seriousness. “I’m the one who had to watch The Office with you for the past two days.”

Hugh chuckles, shaking his head. “You love it, admit it.”

“I do, I do, I got to baby her again so it was great,” you confess with a laugh, before addressing River again. “Alright, sweetie, we’ll come straight to the hotel after this, I promise.”

“You’d better,” River replies, her tone softening. “Love you both. Get through the rest of the interview, then come hang out with your sick daughter.”

“Love you too,” Hugh says before hanging up the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He leans back in his chair, looking content. “She’s always keeping us on our toes.”

Jimmy smiles warmly, looking between the two of you. “I’ve gotta say, you three are the definition of family goals. I love it.”

You glance at Hugh, sharing a knowing look before turning back to Jimmy. “We’re pretty lucky, that’s for sure.”

“Well, I think that’s a perfect note to wrap things up. Y/N, Hugh, thank you both so much for being here. It’s been an absolute pleasure. And Hugh, it’s always great to have you. Don’t forget, everyone—go see Little Light in cinemas August 14th, and mark your calendars for Deadpool and Wolverine on July 26th!” Jimmy says with a large smile.

The interview wraps with a warm round of applause, and as soon as the cameras stop rolling, you and Hugh exchange quick smiles with Jimmy before stepping off the stage. The lights dim, and the lively hum of the audience fades into the background as you make your way toward the backstage area. Hugh’s arm wraps around your waist, drawing you closer as you navigate the narrow hallway.

As soon as you’re inside the dressing room, the tension hits like a wave. Hugh’s hand doesn’t leave your side, fingers brushing your waist like he’s scared you’ll slip away again. The door barely clicks shut before his lips crash into yours—no hesitation, no holding back, just pure need after a year of waiting.

You melt into him immediately, your hands flying up to grip his shoulders, fingers digging in as if you need to make sure he’s solid, that this isn’t just another dream of him that you’ll wake up from alone. The kiss deepens, hot and urgent, months of distance and longing pouring into it. The way he holds you, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go, makes your heart skip.

Your back hits the door with a thud, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss, breathless but teasing as you mumble against his lips, “You know... someone might hear us.”

His lips curve into a grin, and he pulls back just enough to look at you, forehead resting against yours, his eyes dark with hunger. His hands slide down your body, fingers tightening at your hips, pulling you closer until there’s not an inch of space between you. “Let them,” he breathes, voice low, almost a growl. “I don’t give a damn. I’ve waited a whole fucking year for this. For you. Let the whole world hear.”

Your laugh comes out soft, shaky, your heart pounding in your chest like it’s trying to keep pace with his. You let your hands wander down his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt, the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “I missed you too,” you whisper, eyes locked on his. Then you pull him back into a kiss—this one slower, more deliberate, but still burning with the intensity that’s been building for far too long.

Every touch, every brush of his lips against yours, feels like it’s pulling you deeper into him, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself give in. His hands explore, tracing your sides, your back, reacquainting themselves with every inch of you. You respond in kind, your hands sliding beneath his shirt, fingers mapping the familiar lines of his torso, rediscovering every scar, every dip and ridge of muscle.

The kiss breaks only when you’re both gasping for air, but even then, neither of you pulls away. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing, and for a moment, the world fades away. It’s just the two of you, the rest of the universe outside that door forgotten.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tight as if he can’t believe you’re really here. “I thought about you every day,” he admits, his voice barely a whisper, rough with emotion. “I couldn’t stop. I tried. But nothing... nothing feels right without you.”

Your heart clenches at his words, and you pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your hands cupping his face. “I know,” you whisper back, your voice soft but steady. “Me too.”

He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring every second, every inch of you. It’s not just about need anymore—it’s about the connection, about being with the one person who feels like home. You don’t need to speak; the way his hands hold you, the way his lips move against yours, says it all.

Looks like River might need to hold off a bit longer before she gets to see her dad again.

[anundyingfidelity]

HAPPY MISTAKE — Logan Howlett

Summary: Not ever, through all the years of your life, you found someone like Logan. Since he arrived at the school, something brought you together like a magnet. Sadly, not everything came out as you wished it would be. Time is not gentle with mutants, and you try so hard to show him your unconditional love before everything is over, but can you finally accept your feelings for each other? Or yours and Logan's tumultuous relationship through the years.

(PART ONE → PART TWO) | GEN MASTERLIST!

Pairing: Logan x mutant!female!reader.

Word count: 9.6k.

Warnings: slow burn, breaking up(?)/making up, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut and unprotected everything, language, character death, time travel, Logan hurting reader unintentionally, wounds and blood. Logan being a whore for both Jean Grey and the reader. Reader has slow aging as Logan and looks around mid 30s in my head. Anthropology teacher!reader. Reader can manipulate light (just like Starlight from The Boys). This takes place between different movies from the franchise, from X-Men 1 to DoFP, so spoilers of the movies ahead.

Notes: Long time no write. Life is horrible but somehow I managed to get this in like two months. I love Logan so fucking much now you don't have an idea. This was also written with Happy Mistake by Lady Gaga in mind. If you'd like to be tagged in the second part let me know or let me know your thoughts on this, it's very much appreciated! I suffered a lot writing it .

𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒙 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊'𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆.

—

2000

“Need any help?”

Logan stopped on his tracks from wandering around the cozy, yet strange place he woke up in. Turning on his feet, he saw your figure standing in the middle of the hallway. He said nothing, but you approached him as you had known him for a very long time.

“I assume you’re the new guy-”

“Where is she?” Logan abruptly interrupted once you stood inches away from him.

“Rogue? She’s fine. And you need to take a little rest.”

“I don’t need medical attention,” he said, looking around to search for a nearby exit. Before he walked away you took his arm in a soft grip.

He was, as much as you could tell, surprised by your boldness. You gave him no time to process his next movements once you talked again, your voice firm and welcoming in a way he had never felt before.

“Please, you need to meet Professor Xavier,” you said. “At least before you go. It’s totally fine if you wanna leave, I don’t recommend it though, but we can offer you a safe place here. We are just like you.”

Logan’s hardened expression relaxed for a moment, sensing no threat coming from you. All he saw in your eyes wasn’t pity, nor anger at him being kind of an asshole at first. It was just authority, the good kind where he also had something to say and decide about.

“Whatcha say, Logan?”

He was so immersed in his thoughts before you called his name, thinking it sounded beautiful falling off your lips. You gave him a half smile as he took in each detail of your face, as if he was memorizing every part of it.

It was the first time someone had been nice to him and it felt strangely good.

For some reason, it felt very good coming from you.

—

Logan just found out from the Professor’s mouth the mansion was a school for mutants. Gifted people, he called them. After learning another powerful mutant was behind him and Rogue, he had no other choice but accept the shelter. He didn’t like the other guys better, playing the teacher with a bunch of teenagers with special or cursed abilities. But besides Storm and Jean, you were the person who had welcomed him the most, even showing him the place and the room he would stay in.

One late night, you sat at the dining table together. Logan was silently drinking a beer outside school hours so the kids wouldn’t see him, and you, reading a bunch of papers from your students that you were missing. He realized how hard you worked, how you would praise your students, how you talked to them outside classes, being the one to actually convince Rogue to enroll in the school. Immediately, he knew you were really something, having much more in common than he thought. And you, living for so long, being both a mutant and a lady for sure had a hard life through time.

“What you teach again?” he suddenly asked, breaking the comfortable silence you shared.

“Anthropology,” you answered, giving him a short glance. “I took this at college a long time ago, and I’ve been alive long enough to know a thing or two,” you explained, putting away a paper after putting an A+ on it proudly. “It’s important to understand ourselves, humankind and mutants… It’s a diverse world and there are lots of cultures, languages and societies we don’t get to know, but it’s beautiful. I think I like to celebrate what makes us unique. I've had the chance to study some of them around the world since I had the time, y’know, and it’s truly amazing. It’s a shame we have to fight between us to make us heard when we could just be kind and empathetic to each other… Sorry, you didn’t ask but, y’know, anyway.”

You shook your head with a curve on your lips, going back to the next paper. Logan had taken the sparks in your eyes as you talked. He half smiled to himself once you buried yourself in your papers again, thinking you sounded just like Professor Xavier. No wonder why he took you in. Probably, if things were different for him, he would’ve found something that could light his face with so much passion just like you did.

“Been alive for almost two hundred years,” Logan said and you looked up to him. “We might have things about the past to share,” he drank from his beer. It was your turn to smile back at him.

“Yeah, well, I’ve lived both horrible but nice things. Couldn’t read or do math without being called a witch,” you chuckled to yourself, but hiding on the inside the awful experiences you had to endure. “Someday, we could go out and grab a coffee or something,” you said with a playful smile.

A light chuckle left your lips, but you and him knew it wasn’t just a joke.

He joined you with a warm smile that lit up his face before disappearing from his lips. “Of course. Count me in.”

—

The sun was shining bright and the weather was great that morning. Some of the students were in the yard playing, having some quality time, and others simply just left to go to the town. It was a good weekend before the next semester started, and it was better now knowing Magneto had been taken to prison after his failed attempt to use Rogue for his plans.

Sipping on your coffee, you saw the students outside. Laughing, running, having a good breakfast picnic. It felt heartwarming just taking this sight, wishing it would always be like this. Your mindful peace was interrupted when Logan entered the kitchen to have a coffee on his own. Visibly, you tensed just a little when he approached you and sat right in front of you at the dining table. The caffeine was not helping at all, you thought.

“Morning,” he greeted you, noticing something was off on you, but hoping it would pass. Maybe you already knew.

“Morning…” your voice came out as a whisper. “How you feeling?”

“Better. What about you?”

You gave a small nod. “Good, thanks for asking.”

A silence fell upon you. Not like the ones you used to share in lonely nights where you prepared your classes and Logan just sat down calmly because he couldn’t sleep. This time it was different. Words won’t come out of your mouth to ask what was really bothering you. You had grown up to like Logan and enjoy his company, but he had a lot of walls upon him, protecting himself of the world and people around him.

However, you understood why he did it. You both have been alive longer than anyone else. You saw people you love dearly dead, being killed because of your flaws. And you really connected to his idea of protecting people by leaving their side. It was better being away. That was until Professor Xavier recruited you. Here, you had a purpose and you helped young people to become the best versions of themselves. You wished Logan could do the same, stay and see he was more of what he thought of himself, but it wouldn’t happen. Right? He had things to sort out on his own.

“Are you leaving soon?”

When you asked the question, Logan knew you had heard something from the Professor. He gave you a nod.

“I need to reconnect with who I was,” he simply answered.

“Right… Wish you all the best there.”

Logan had grown to like you over the past few weeks you shared, exchanging experiences and lessons of life you had taken through the years. For a moment, he looked right into your eyes and smiled. He weirdly smiled, and you could swear he’d miss you too once he is away.

But that warm feeling soon faded away once Jean walked into the kitchen, saying good morning and beaming to the both of you. Logan followed her with his gaze, straightening himself on his seat as she served her own breakfast and an extra plate that you already knew was for Scott. She also began putting fruits and snacks inside a picnic basket while looking all happy and settled, and you knew why Logan had fallen in love with her. It was all over his face.

And you wondered how could he act and talk to you so kindly and sweet, and then look at Jean like that. It was a pain in your heart you tried to dissipate. Everyone knew Jean and Scott were a couple, and the fact that Logan had a not so secret crush on her really played on you. It made you feel like a fool and you had too many heartbreaks and hurted people, putting them in danger due to your mutation, to take initiative and start a relationship - or anything of the sort - again.

Scott made his way inside the kitchen, saying hi to both of you - mostly you. And took the tray with their plates as Jean grabbed the basket, but she let Scott leave the kitchen before.

“Have a good trip, Logan,” she said kindly. “I hope to see you around here soon.”

“Thank you, Jean.”

She smiled one last time before leaving you all alone, Logan following her with his eyes. Just for a second, you wished he could see you like that underneath his facade.

—

You had packed your stuff later that day, deciding a little air and a change for one night would do no wrong. Just as you were walking to the main door, Rogue was saying her goodbyes to Logan after giving him a small hug without really touching him. It was a cute sight how Rogue was able to step into his cold heart. She said goodbye to you as well before leaving the entrance.

“You’re going away too?” Logan asked, rather surprised as you both walked through the door, the sun hitting your skin as soon as you were out of the mansion. He knew your life was at the school.

“Just for the weekend,” you shrug it off.

Logan gave you a nod with a warm smile. “Then have a good trip and enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks. I hope you find what you’ve been looking for.”

“I hope so too,” Logan answered and before he went to take Scott’s bike, he looked at you hesitantly for a couple of seconds. “We should go out and grab some coffee once I’m back.”

Your lips formed a wide smile. “That sounds really nice.”

For a moment, where time felt like hours and not seconds, you stood right out the door, looking at each other. You wanted him to go first, but he was waiting for you to say something. Probably to ride the bike with him, he could leave you somewhere near your destination and feel you close - just be around you for at least five more minutes. But none of that ever happened.

Instead, you studied his face, looking at his deep eyes, and then his lips - those lips you wanted to kiss so bad before, but never had the courage to do so. You didn’t think further, and if something had taken possession over you, you leaned towards him leaving a short, sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Take care,” you mumbled once you pulled away.

Not waiting for his answer, you turned back, pulling your bag to your side stronger than ever and walked the path to the front gates, feeling his gaze all over you until you left the mansion.

He felt such an idiot for not kissing you properly.

—

2003

‘I know what I want, but what do you want?’

Mystique’s words echoed through his head. Logan left the tent so long ago he didn’t know what time it was anymore and the situation kept repeating again and again in his mind. The woman had shifted between Jean, Ororo, and you. The one that icked him the most being Rogue once Mystique had taken her figure in. Storm was a good colleague, Jean was a forbidden love, Rogue was like his little sister, someone he would protect as long as he could, and you… you were a different case. When Mystique was about to kiss him wearing your figure, he finally realized he started feeling things he had prohibited himself for a very long time, and he thought he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

Once or twice you shared experiences about love and partners, but he could tell it hurted you the same way as him. He couldn’t burden breaking your heart, or worse, getting you hurt because of what he was. Logan knew you had the same bad luck in the past, but it didn’t stop any of you to pull towards each other like a magnet.

‘Living for so long does things to you, Logan. I feel we become more aware of what we are.’

Those words you said to him one time remained in his head like a warning, and he took it personally.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against a hard tree trunk some feet away from the tents where the rest of the X-Men rested. He tried to find some peace alone for a few moments when the sounds of steps approaching alerted his senses. Claws out and ready to attack, he spun around the trunk only to stop in a second.

There you were, a bright light emanating from your hand to illuminate your path in the darkness of the woods.

“Logan?”

Quickly, he withdrew his claws and his body relaxed visibly. “Sorry,” he apologized, leaning against the tree one more time.

“Are you okay?” you asked, but you already knew the answer. The exhausted sigh he let out told you everything you needed. You let the soft glow of light floating between you and him, to illuminate both of you under the branches. “You wanna talk?”

He slowly shook his head, mumbling ‘no’. He became startled in the light floating like a firefly, letting his own issues wash away with your sole company. Ironically, everything that was troubling him was you. Softly, you caressed his arm, taking him out of his own thoughts. Your touch didn’t help his poor mind either.

Looking worried about the next mission in Lake Alkali, you feared for him and your team. And your lack of sleep was showing it. But just like Logan, the growing feelings were troubling your head. You had seen him talking with Jean earlier when you landed in the forest - talking too close to your liking once he pulled her for a kiss. But what could you do? Logan was still after Jean even when she had already declined him countless of times, and it didn’t really hurt you. It just felt strange inside. Why would he do that while still being nice to you, quitting being a dick when he wanted because he knew you’d snap back at him. And to be honest, Logan looked as if he liked that about you. But he won’t admit it out loud, and of course, you wouldn’t ask. Men were so damn complicated.

“Well, I only expect things to not get worse…” you finally said in a soft whisper since he wasn’t talking and you stopped your head going further on the matter. And you knew he wouldn’t talk soon either. “And you’re brave for seeking your past.”

Logan locked his eyes with your own, under the soft light. Your tired gaze, your figure, your aura pulling him like he found a treasure in an abandoned cave… He felt so bad for falling for someone like you, who was nothing compared to the crap he was. And then, for the first time in years, he decided to follow his instinct with you.

He leaned towards your figure, his rough hand cupping your cheek gently before pulling you in for a kiss. With a soft sigh you corresponded, your arms around his neck as it turned deeper and harsher. Logan lifted you easily from the ground, your legs tangling around his waist until you felt your back against a rough surface, trapped between the trunk and his body. Soft moans and grunts mingled, your chest pressing against his own, his hips grinding against your crotch. It was obvious you wanted this. Logan desired you so painfully after that day you kissed him goodbye at the mansion, he needed your body and soul. But you had to have answers before giving into the heat of the moment.

Pulling away, you broke the kiss, your forehead resting against his own as you tried to catch your breath. Logan tried to taste you once again, but you placed two of your fingers on his swollen lips.

“Why’d you kiss her?”

He remained silent, brows furrowed and eyes blown in lust. You didn’t make any effort to pull him away. He still had you between his legs, asking a simple question he had no response for.

“We’re adults here, Logan. Just wanna know why before we go further.”

Logan started to remember. He vividly heard Jean and Mystique voicing out and asking the right question.

‘Girls flirt with the bad guy. They take the good guy home.’

‘What do you want?’

“Do you really want me?” he asked in return.

You lifted an eyebrow at his sudden question. “And do you?”

He leaned again for a kiss on your lips, and thankfully for him, you didn’t stop it. But he quickly pulled away and inhaled your sweet scent from the skin on your neck, leaving a path of soft pecks, until he nipped the shell of your ear softly. You shivered under his touch.

“I’d love to have you,” he whispered, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Come to my tent,” you mumbled. “Sleep with me. But like, seriously, sleep with me ‘cause I’m tired,” you chuckled, hoping to not kill the mood.

Logan smiled for a bit and nodded, pecking your lips one more time before helping you get on your feet on the muddy ground, hands rubbing your sides slowly.

“As long as I have you by my side it’s alright with me.”

—

Jean’s death was hard to swallow.

For weeks, students and teachers mourned her, and you felt sorry for Scott for losing his soulmate. Logan was not in the best shape either. He didn’t attend her funeral, he never had the guts to stand by her grave either, until now. You stopped right behind him and noticed him sighing, under the afternoon sunset. He was tense because of everything, but when you took his hand out of the pocket of his jacket, he held onto you. Your fingers intertwined together, feeling his life depending solely on you, like a rock he needed to support his whole weight.

The day was about to end, the sun slowly hiding, giving a beautiful painting of orange and purple in the sky. You thought it would soon become an intense thunderstorm due to Ororo’s mourn - something you had gotten used to the last few days.

“She saved us,” Logan barely mumbled, looking intensely at the grave.

You nodded, even if he could not see you. “Can’t blame her, I’d have done the same.”

Those words cause him to look back at you, wishing it’d be a lie. But inside, Logan knew you really had the guts to sacrifice yourself for others. It was something he remembered both of you talking about some time ago. And you would give everything in your hands to save the ones you love.

Quietly, Logan gave a last glance at Jean’s grave, and guided you inside the mansion. Classes barely started again due to the circumstances and a few kids could be seen around the halls. You accompanied him to the doors of his room, noticing you had been holding hands the whole time. Probably no one really cared, they were too busy trying to go through the grief of losing a loved one. Slowly, you broke the gesture, taking your hand away and Logan immediately missed the heat and comfort of your hand.

“Do you need anything?” you asked in a low voice.

Looking at you, Logan reminisced how you kissed in the woods, the need and lust for each other that couldn’t be. He did sleep in your tent that night, in the comfort of your arms, feeling the warmth of your skin. It was, probably, the first time he had a good, peaceful night of sleep in years. No one had brought that up, but he knew something was there. And he needed to act on it before it was too late.

So he brought up his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks lovingly before planting a kiss on your lips, not caring he was standing in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see what was going on. You leaned against his touch, deepening the kiss until you couldn’t catch a breath. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead into yours, taking in the beauty of your bright eyes and swollen lips. Everything wandering his mind, making a path right into his cold heart was right in front of him.

“You.”

—

Knocking Professor Xavier's door, you walked inside as soon as his voice announced to come in. You caught your breath seeing Logan by his desk. He just gave you a quick, accomplice glimpse and left the room, closing the door behind. The exchange of glances wasn’t unnoticed by Charles.

“Here’s the report on my subject for this last semester, Professor,” you announced, leaving the folder on the wooden desk.

“Thank you. How’s Logan doing?” he asked all of a sudden, checking the door the man had crossed just seconds ago.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you believe he is comfortable helping the kids?” the old man asked again. He was seeing right through you, and you kind of hated every time he used to do that to you. Nothing could be hidden from Xavier; definitely you couldn’t hide a single thing for the man who took you in decades ago.

“Why would I know that?”

He shrugged it off. “Well, you seem very close lately.”

Close was not the best word to describe your relationship with Logan. Yet, you were sleeping on his bed just the night before. The trace of his kisses, the burn of his beard on your skin, his teeth biting softly your breasts, his rough hands all over your hips… Every touch he left on your body you could still feel it, and you wanted to think he was not just using you. During the past weeks, you were together. Not quite a relationship-thing was established properly, but it was the closest thing any of you could have as for now.

It was a mixture of grief, pain, and hope that had you both still standing. In the end, you understood what he felt. Being alone and alive for so long and then finding a place where people accepted you for who you were was a whole change, even if some years passed by. Though, the time Logan had been spending at the school was nothing but a blink of an eye compared to his past.

“What happened to our team is still affecting us,” you finally said. “I believe we are good friends, yes, we’ve been supporting each other. And he doesn’t know how to deal with the students yet most of the time, but I try to walk him through it.”

Xavier hummed, smiling at the corner of his lips as he eyed the folder you handed him. “I bet you both do.Thanks for bringing your report on time, as always, and I apologize if I am being intrusive. Just please be careful with the noises both of you make at night, we have kids around here.”

Shit.

You swallowed your pride right there and simply gave a nod, feeling the heat burning up your face.

“Will do, Professor.”

—

A loud gasp escaped your lips as you held for dear life on his broad shoulders, hips snapping against your own. His pace was reckless, keeping you on the edge of sin. Grunts mixed with sweet moans, skin hitting skin again and again every time you felt his cock inside you. If possible, your nails could have already left visible scars and marks on his back, scratching and bleeding off his skin as he fucked you senseless.

Logan sucked on the bare skin on your neck, inhaling your scent, feeling your walls clenching around his girth, his hands roughly grabbing the sides of your hips as you moaned his name, over and over, under the moonlight. He looked at you intensely with loving eyes when you came underneath him, eyes flashing that familiar bright light every time a powerful orgasm hit your body. The vulnerable sight of your figure shaking, eyes closing slowly and biting your lip to keep the pretty noises low, made him reach the sweetest high.

With a grunt, he leaned to attack your lips in a heated, wet kiss to moan against your mouth. Logan pulled back to press butterfly kisses on your jaw, until he reached your breasts, feeling himself soften inside your wet heat. His hips were still thrusting just enough to fill you up at a gentle rhythm. Marking you his and only his.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against the sensitive skin of your chest. “Remind me why we’re here again.”

You chuckled softly, fingers tangling on his disheveled hair. You just had prepared a small date night out at the shores of a beautiful lake in the woods. No one could bother you if you were alone, and since your relationship was not so secret anymore, you needed him in a place that wasn’t the school. So here you were, laying on your back, fully naked on the picnic blanket, with the Wolverine between your legs, enjoying the calmness of the water, the green grass, the crickets singing around, and the cold of the night.

“Privacy perhaps?” you whispered as his eyes locked on yours.

Softly you touched his cheek with the palm of your hand and he rolled both of you over, until you laid on top of him, legs straddling his waist and your arms on his shoulders to sit on his lap. Silence took over, his hands soothing your hips and the marks he left on your body from the intense love-making.

“I’m so happy we took a couple of days off…”

You waited for Logan to say something. Anything. You wanted to continue, to tell him how you really felt. Instead, you decided it was better leaving it like this. Logan gave you a nod, pulling you for a short kiss.

“Yeah. Me too.”

He wanted to say it out loud, but was too scared to do so.

—

2006

After a couple of long years, the school and the team had to learn how to go through the grief and pain Jean left. Logan had a hard time processing it, just like all your teammates, specially Scott, and of course the students. It didn’t stop you from moving on as time went by though, always remembering her for the great person and mind she was. Going forward and keeping fighting is what she would’ve wanted for everyone, even now that a certain cure for mutants was announced to the public.

You tried to continue your life as a professor at the school, training students, leading young people, and you invited and encouraged Logan to do so countless times. Deep inside, you wished it was you the reason why Logan decided to stay and train young mutants - for you to be the answer to his loneliness. That he knew, for once and all, that he was not alone. You got each other, and you could do something about it. Words unspoken said more than anything, at least you thought so.

It was one of those rare nights where you got some time for yourselves, walking around the city after having a nice and calm dinner. Your shoulders brushed against each other while you walked downtown, your hands hiding inside the pockets of your jacket, protecting them from the cold.

There was a lot on your mind lately, thinking about what you two really were. If there was a stronger feeling in between, or if it was solely because he enjoyed your company and that was it. Both had lived enough to know there was a feeling in the middle. It wasn’t just friends with benefits, or co-workers who sleep together three times a week. Something was blooming deep inside you, but you tried to not give it a lot of attention all those years. Still, it felt like it had to be addressed sooner or later, and this could be the time. In the end, you understood each other perfectly. How painful it was, how living longer than anyone was, how you had to leave everything and everyone behind because you were dangerous…

“Have you ever wondered how’d it feel to have a normal life?” your question came out all of the sudden.

“How come?” He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

You didn’t know if his gaze was judging you but you continued anyway.

“Like living a normal amount of years… Not having these things, genes that make us different. Or special…”

Logan suddenly stopped in his tracks and grabbed your arm softly so you could lock eyes together as he asked. “You’re not thinking of getting that damn cure, aren’t you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why’d you think that?”

“Because I never had anyone in my life, Logan,” you spat, pulling your arm away from his grip. “I’ve been alive for so long but I can’t promise myself a future. A real one. Not anything, it doesn’t matter if I live forever. Every person I loved before perished.”

Those words shook him out of the rough façade showing on his face. Your gaze told a hundred different stories when he studied your face every time. It was like mirroring himself at some point. You were the first person he ever got to know that has lived as long as he has, and maybe it was the sentimentalism, but he tried to push away those wishes of settling down. Of trying to be normal. Because he was not, and maybe, just maybe, you just didn’t accept it like he did. Probably, he was just giving up. But you weren’t, even after hundreds of years of disgrace continuously happening.

“I thought you’d get this, Logan.”

You mumbled, taking him out of his trance.

“Well, I do, in a way,” he said, but sounded more like an excuse for himself.

“Then why don’t you say it?”

“Wha-”

“Just say it,” you repeated and pointed between you and him. “What is this for you? What are we?”

Logan grabbed on your shoulders gently and leaned towards you, stealing a kiss on the sidewalk, a kiss you obliged with a bittersweet feeling for some reason, but then he whispered. “Darling, you’re everything to me now.”

Yet, you smiled and kissed him back, feeling his lips curve against your own. Well, that wasn’t so hard was it?

—

Needless to say, after the last date, your relationship with Logan had evolved to something more domestic, considering you lived together in your workplace. Affection, holding hands, quick kisses were shared now a little more freely, and you had received a couple of jokes and teases from some students and Storm. But it was fine as long as you had cleared your path with Logan, even if he didn’t act like a partner sometimes.

The certain calmness you felt one day disappeared when Logan and Ororo went to look for Scott, who often had these sad thoughts, and since Jean was his partner, it was thoroughly complicated for him to say the least. When Logan and Ororo came back to the mansion, it was not what you expected to see. Jean was alive and Scott was gone.

It hurted you, knowing first hand that their love wouldn’t be anymore. You met both of them when they were so young, becoming something like their mentor when they used to learn how to control their powers and how to fit in this world that loathed mutants to death. Now, the school was something else. It was a big, special place that was not the same without the brains of Jean, or the enthusiasm and leadership of Scott. Things were different, they had to change because the circumstances told so, and everyone had a difficult time adapting to it. One thing after another left you tired, with no option to run away, even if you wanted to. The complicated circumstances and the relationship you shared with Logan were no help either.

While on your way to check on Jean, who was still under observation after a couple of days, you stopped in your tracks when the heavy door of the med bay slid. Logan, looking all out of his daily self and mad, found you at the entrance, and you felt something different emanating from him.

For what you could see behind him, Jean was still asleep, and the Professor called Logan to come back with a serious voice, but he ignored the older man, instead approaching you.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Logan grasped your arm, his tone lower and deeper than usual.

You quickly pulled off his grip and hissed. “What are you talking about?”

“Jean.”

You felt silent. Of course she was anything he could think of since they found her.

“You knew he was controlling her,” Logan went on and your heart skipped a beat.

The look in your eyes told everything but lies. Logan scoffed and walked away, leaving you standing alone under Professor Xavier’s gaze.

“I’ll talk to him,” you mumbled at your mentor before following Logan, trying to keep his pace until he reached his room.

The whole way you tried to keep it professional, greeting students as normally you would, but when you crossed his door it was impossible to continue with the facade.

“Logan-”

“He’s insane,” he snapped, putting his jacket on and taking his bag out.

“Everything that was done was meant to protect her,” you responded calmly as he placed a handful of clothes inside the bag.

“No, you did it because you are disgusting. I bet this is what should’ve been for me if I refused to cooperate with your circus or something.”

“You don’t know what she is capable of-”

“Yeah, well I don’t wanna hear it anymore. This is so fucked up, even for you,” he continued, bag on his hand taking long strides until you were almost touching noses. 

You scoffed, trying to laugh at the irony. “What does that even mean? Do you know how horrible it is to be controlled by the Phoenix inside her?.”

Logan rolled his eyes, not wanting to hear another poor excuse. You continued anyway, looking straight in his eyes before he could leave you hanging with your own words. Exactly like he used to do every damn time when you had an argument. Today, he wouldn’t run away that fast.

“She could kill you in a second and won’t hesitate. For her, we’re nothing. We’re not rivals, we can’t do shit. The only thing we could do was keep her alter ego somewhere hiding inside her mind, or else we wouldn’t be here arguing about something you never witnessed. Because I did and you don’t wanna see that, trust me,” you spat at him. He breathed rage at your words and you knew that it was getting on his nerves seeing the way his hands turned to fists. “And you think this version of her cares for you? Or that she loves you? Jean is gone now, Logan, fucking get over it.”

With last harsh words, you turned around and left the room, closing the door with a thud. 

Logan breathed out. He wanted to scream, hit something, run away… Anything to let it out. He was a reckless mess but how could he react and accept Charles was playing with Jean’s mind? And you fucking knew all this time and didn’t say anything? Were his feelings dirty on him right now? Probably. Shit, he took years to finally tell you the truth about his love and affection towards you. He spent months trying to find the right words just to say ‘I love you’, and still, it seemed it wasn’t enough. The forbidden love he felt for Jean never disappeared, and he felt guilty for it.

—

You walked down to the med bay after calming down for a bit. You only needed to check on Jean for a moment and see how she was doing. Years prior, you had witnessed what the Phoenix was capable of, so you didn’t really question Charles’ methods when it came to hide this dangerous side of her inside her mind. You also thought your words might have been a little harsh on Logan, but it was the truth. He didn’t know who the Phoenix was and, if his feelings for Jean resurfaced after believing her being dead, then it wasn’t on you. As much as you loved him, as much as you tried and somehow managed to move on together, he was so easily dragged to her.

The anger you felt before took over you once again, as you found the metal doors of the lab in debris. Quickly, you made your way inside the room and found Jean wasn’t there and that Logan was lying unconscious on the floor. You knelt down by his side, calling him over and over and touching his face and shaking his shoulders until he finally opened his eyes slowly, coming back to reality.

“Logan, what happened?”

“She… she killed Scott. The Phoenix,” he whispered. You could tell he was a little weak and out of breath.

“You’re lucky she just ran away,” you pointed out, helping him to sit down. His eyes were lost in the mess in the room. Tools were destroyed, test tubes broken, crystal was everywhere, and Jean left the reminder of kissing him, yet again, before she escaped. God, he felt so idiotic.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, looking at you. “Sorry for being a jerk. It’s my fault.”

Taking his cheeks between your hands, you gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her, okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we’ll find her.”

“Come here, we need to alert Charles,” you said, helping him to stand up.

Inside, you knew he wouldn’t really need your help. He was strong and indestructible like the metal on his skull, but he seemed really taken back, and you decided to stay by his side, holding his hand strongly as a way to say sorry as well. It was kind of difficult to see Logan in that state of mind, confused and lost, and you wondered what had happened back there in the lab as you left him in his bedroom, ordering him to rest for a while.

“I’ll be right back,” you assured him with loving eyes.

Logan nodded, following your figure stepping out the room and disappearing in the hallway.

He let out a breath he didn’t know was holding. His mind was having a hard time and his heart felt like breaking, going in two opposite directions, and he hated himself for that. His fate was always the same: losing people he loved and cared for dearly. So seeing Jean back again was as if god or anything up there remembered he existed and brought her back just for him. Or maybe he was just being selfish because he already had you.

You were everything for him. A couple of years might be just a short glimpse for both of you, but he was able to feel peace and calm next to you, and he was sure you did as well. Because some nights, that was all you could talk about. Logan didn’t mind hearing you for hours, it reminded him he was alive. With you, but his stupid instinct had to act.

It was his fault Jean had left. The kiss, the whole act of embracing each other’s bodies for at least two minutes, and then her breakdown, begging for him to kill her… All of that was enough to bring out the beast inside her. And he felt such a jerk now for following his desires. He already had you. Wasn’t that enough?

His thoughts were interrupted once you arrived again, finding him sitting at the end of the bed exactly as you had left him there. Sensing something different on him, you sat down by his side and rubbed his hand gently.

“We might know where she’s going,” you whispered.

“I’ll go,” Logan said before you could finish.

“I’m not sure if I should ask, but are you okay? You could do some rest,” you suggested, since seeing the redhead was clearly getting some kind of reaction from him.

“No, I need to go,” he said. But Logan could read your face perfectly, and he knew you didn’t really like the idea of him leaving the mansion. You turned your eyes, scanning the room and avoiding his gaze.

You had the need to ask what exactly had happened back there with Jean, but you didn’t want to start a fight either. Feeling Logan’s hand on your shoulder, he leaned to kiss your forehead goodbye. Maybe you were the one who should stay, check the kids, the school…

“It’ll be fine,” he mumbled, voice low and deep, as if trying to convince you, but himself as well. You nodded with your arms around his neck, giving him a hug that felt like some sort of apology you weren’t able to say out loud. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

And how you’d wish things would be fine.

—

The school has been very quiet lately. Too silent even for his taste. At nights like these, he could still feel the vigor and presence of the students running around, grabbing something to eat, planning to go out for a while... Instead, Logan found himself in a place that was mourning. Grieving the loss of Jean, Scott and Charles.

The feelings inside were complicated. He didn’t really feel the same, and the disgrace and remorse of his actions were growing on him. They were still haunting him; every day, every single night. You knew it too. It was impossible to ignore the nightmares each time he woke up from seeing Jean’s lifeless body fall against his own after he gave what she wished for the most: death.

And then, there was you. He noticed how difficult it was getting for you to sleep. You tried to hide your sorrow into your work, studying even more, keeping yourself busy with the school and not thinking about anything else. Since Charles was gone, Ororo took his place and you were her second hand. But you pushed yourself too hard.

Tonight he found your bedroom empty. He didn’t find you on his either, so he went to the place he knew you would be: your classroom. The door was half opened, the dim light of the lamp on your desk barely illuminated the papers on the surface. He found you deeply concentrated reading on something, hands on the sides of your head hiding your face.

“Hey,” he softly mumbled, stepping inside the empty classroom.

You quickly straightened yourself on the chair, wiping your cheeks and tried to look decent for a moment.

“Hey,” you replied back, low voice.

“Come to bed,” he said, coming to stand before you, his hand on your shoulder comforting and soothing you, making its way to the side of your neck. His big palm on your cheek, caressing the skin stained with your tears as if it was the most delicate thing. He took a look at the mess of papers and old books you loved too much to get rid of, scattered on the wooden surface.

“No, I- I can’t. Need to finish these by tomorrow…”

Logan gave you a nod and a grimace before taking your hand, motioning to come closer. You stood up, knowing he was trying to get you out of the work that was consuming you.

He observed every feature on your face, the sadness in your stare couldn’t be hidden. He just knew you too well, just like the palm of his hand, and he wanted to make you forget. At least for a little. You had taken care of him, helped him with your presence and your unique aura, bringing him comfort and peace to his broken mind. He wanted you to be fine. To feel loved.

Logan leaned just exactly to brush his lips with your own, teasing a kiss that he longed too much, his hands around your waist pulling you towards him.

“Can you just let me take care of you?” 

Swallowing hard the knot on your throat, you curled your lips as much as the grief let you. “Yes,” you nodded.

With this, Logan leaned until your lips connected. Your arms around his neck pulled him as closer as you could get, feeling his chest against your own, his strong hands around your waist, softly touching you above your clothes.

Logan slowly walked you until your back hit the desk, hands roaming on your ass down to your legs, placing you to sit down over the loose pages. It might ruin the work a little, but none of you cared. Everything in your head was him, between your legs, running his wet mouth down your jaw, his stubble burning your skin as you gasped gently. Lying on your back on the desk, he began descending down your breasts, unbuttoning your blouse until he exposed you to the cold of the room.

He stopped right on your trousers, and gave you a quick glance. You were so eager, wet already. He could sense it. Your eyes were glowing and you were already trying to catch your breath by just his kisses and touch.

“You locked the door?” you whispered.

“Damn right I did,” he voiced, hoarse and low voice from just thinking of railing you right there and then.

“Then don’t stop.”

At your command, he unzipped your trousers, letting them fall down along with your heels on the floor. He then leaned to take your lips in a sloppy kiss, more urgent this time of feeling you close. You moaned, nails scratching his skin. His calloused hands explored your bare legs and things, creating friction with his hips with slow, controlled thrusts against your crotch. Logan left a trail of kisses down to your breasts, licking and tasting the saltiness of your body.

You urged him to go down where you ached the most, hand tangling on his hair. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs, spreading to him until his nose was almost buried on your panties, smelling and taking the sweetness of your scent, licking softly with his wet tongue over the fabric. A trail of moans and curses left your lips. He pulled your panties aside before diving in your pussy, licking your folds and teasing your hole with two of his fingers.

“Logan…”

His name repeatedly left your mouth like a plea, his fingers now inside you, stretching your walls for him. The noises grew obscene and nasty as he ate you out like a sweet craving he had been denying himself the pleasure for so long.

He was growing hard just by hearing your whimpers, and he needed you. You always were a fucking longing for him. Your words, your intelligence, your beauty… Everything he needed, you had it. And still, he didn’t have any idea of how such a rational, smart woman like you learned to love him so deeply.

You tugged on his hair, hips thrusting up to meet his growling mouth. You were so close, felt almost there where you wanted, but he pulled away before you finished.

Logan unzipped his jeans leaning back, admiring your blissed out eyes and glistened figure.

“Come here,” you begged in a whisper, tangling your legs around his waist.

He let out a low, dirty chuckle, feeling your hands on his boxers, freeing his erection.

“So fucking eager,” Logan breathed kissing your lips, hands supporting his weight at the sides of your head on the desk.

You tasted yourself within the kiss and you moaned at his words, your hand pumped him just enough to feel his pre cum leaking already, lining his dick with your cunt. Inch by inch, he entered slowly so you could get used to his size. Logan pecked your lips gently, kissing your cheeks and the side of your neck to get into your sensitive skin. You tugged on his white shirt so he could remove it and he ripped your bra apart right after. He loved to feel your chest pressed against his own. You gasped but paid no mind, instead urging him to move inside you.

“Shit, Logan please-”

A particular harsh trust caught your breath on your throat. You held onto dear life with your hands on his shoulders. He pounded into you rock hard and deep. So damn deep the desk was shrieking under, papers fell off and the lamp moved at the same rhythm but you hoped it won’t break.

Logan growled, inhaling your scent and tasting the sweat forming on your collarbone, your breasts bouncing against his chest. He felt your nails trailing down his back, and oh, how he wished he could get damn scars on just by fucking you like this. But the view of you, squirming under him, eyes closed, being a whimpering mess… All because of him. He was so insanely in love with your fucked out expression every time.

Your walls clenched, close to the sweet end. Logan felt himself twitching inside your warm pussy and his thrusts were getting erratic and sloppy. He filled you up, reaching his own climax first, hot white ropes of cum painting your insides. Your pussy milked him all the way as he kept spliting you open until you let yourself go, legs trembling around his waist. 

For a moment, you stayed like this, with him kissing your shoulder and caressing your thigh, taking in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.

“Thank you…”

Your whisper forced him to look up at you. There it was, that loving, sweet gaze you had reserved just for him.

He nodded, palm on your jaw holding you gently. “Of course…”

For some reason, he wanted to voice out for once those stupid three words.

I love you.

Or at least hoped you would do it first.

—

The night was cold under the moonlight, almost freezing. He wondered how he got trapped there, between the messy, withered shrubbery, fog, and the trees of a forest he never recalled knowing. He was alert, senses to the limit in case something might attack him. He felt as if he was being watched, but there were no eyes he could find around. He couldn’t see much like that.

But then a voice started to call his name from afar, claws coming out immediately as he sharpened his senses to find the owner. One, two, three times he heard, trying to find the person who was calling but there was only darkness. His heart skipped a beat when someone spoke behind him.

“Logan…”

He turned on his feet and he felt like dying again. “Jean?”

He withdrew his claws back immediately. The redhead smiled, coming closer until she touched his cheek with a soft hand before pulling away. “How are you, Logan?”

“What-”

“Are you happy now?” she asked, beaming brightly as if they were in a casual conversation instead of the darkness of the woods.

His brows furrowed. She couldn’t be real. She wasn’t there with him. Jean was gone, he had killed her because it was what she wanted. It was her way out to get what she needed; it was the key to her freedom…

“What do you mean?”

“With her… Be careful. You could kill her. Just like me,” Jean whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

Logan stepped back, trying to get away. He shook his head in disbelief, not knowing exactly why Jean was saying this to him.

“No… You’re not real…”

“Everything you love is destined to death and chaos, Logan. You shouldn’t be there,” Jean continued, her eyes switching from her usual tone to a deep black. The ground began trembling under their feet with each step of her, wind building up around. Logan felt truly scared, but somehow he couldn’t run, just stand there as she approached. “All she will know is a life of suffering if you stay. She doesn’t need that.”

“Jean-”

“She doesn’t need you!”

“Jean!”

And then it happened so fast. His claws buried on her chest, the Phoenix disappearing and leaving her to die. Jean collapsed against his body and Logan reminisced about the events of that battle, where he had to choose to be selfish or liberate her from her own demons. Logan wasn’t sure why he stabbed her like this. And when he thought Jean was dead in his arms, she started to call his name again. This time, he heard it far away.

Logan.

Logan.

Logan…

Logan!

His eyes went wide open. And there you were, by his side on the bed, calling for him with a pain grimace on your face. His claws buried on your stomach.

“Logan…” you gasped and he pulled the claws out, but you were already bleeding, your nightshirt and the mattress stained.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry- I-”

“It’s okay,” you managed to say as he caressed your cheek before taking you in his arms hurriedly and quickly made the way out of your room through the halls. “The nightmares… I know, Logan…”

“God, I’m so sorry, please forgive me. Hank!” Logan stood outside the scientist’s door. “Hank, I need your help!”

The commotion caused some of the students to peek from their doors, and Logan waited outside what he felt it was forever under the gazes of the teenagers. It wasn’t the first time he had caused the same accident. The door opened, finally revealing a sleepy Hank putting his glasses on.

There was no need to explain what had happened.

—

“She’ll be stable soon,” Hank informed once he let Logan inside the med bay. “If you hadn’t brought her soon…”

Logan swallowed the knot on his throat, watching your unconscious figure on the stretcher. You already had received blood to cover up what you lost because of the wounds, and Logan’s claws were not minor weapons. His mind was a mess, confusion taking over. He didn’t know how he let this happen. He had nightmares pretty often, yes, but nothing like this.

Maybe Jean was right. Maybe she was trying to warn him about something. Or Jean was just trying to protect you from him. The last one felt more realistic. Logan wouldn’t hurt you, not ever. You talked about how dangerous it was to sleep together not so long ago, but you had insisted on staying. It was the first time something felt so damn real in his dreams and he wished you wouldn’t let him in your room that night…

“She’ll wake up, right?” Logan asked.

“Absolutely,” Hank nodded. “I will need to monitor her vital signs though, hopefully within a day or two she will be normal again… At least she’ll be stable until the wounds heal completely.”

Of course, Logan thought. You didn’t have a healing factor just like him.

“I’ll be right back,” Hank announced before stepping out of the room, leaving Logan alone.

He felt so guilty for doing this to you. For everything. For being the cause of your suffering now. He was a threat and mentally unstable. He was strong thanks to his genes, but he was weak on the inside. He promised countless times to protect you, but he couldn’t avoid hurting you himself. It didn’t matter that it was a very bad dream that felt disgustingly real, he had failed and hurted someone who truly loved. Again.

Taking your hand gently into his, he leaned to plant a kiss on your forehead, wishing it would be just another game from his mind.

But it wasn’t. Now, he had the person he loved the most lying unconscious and hurted because he would let his darkest thoughts consume him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, watching you sleep peacefully. “I should have said it sooner.”

-

PART TWO

[penkura]

Christmas Gift

Summary: You and Zoro exchange your Christmas gifts for each other.

Note: I had to write Zoro of course, and this ended up being a little more self indulgent than I originally planned lol. But I hope you guys enjoy it. :)

Christmas with Zoro has always been your favorite time of year. Of course your birthdays are fun, but the holiday season makes things feel different when you two exchange gifts. He always acts like it’s a pain but the gifts Zoro has given you are always appreciated and more thoughtful than you expect, especially from someone who says it’s annoying to go shopping.

Your favorite thing each year is to see how flustered you can make your boyfriend. Even though you’ve been together for several years, Zoro never expects anything much from you, yet you always outdo yourself and cause him to feel like his gifts aren’t as good.

They always are to you, but Zoro still feels like you do better with the whole gift giving thing.

It's no different this year, when you two meet up once again, though it’s the last year you’ll be doing this as a dating couple since you’ll be getting married next year, as long as everything works out.

The earrings Zoro gives you this year match the three he wears, it’s the first time he’s giving you something like this (ignoring your engagement ring), but you love them all the same. He almost forced you to open your gift first, it was that important to him this year, for the two of you to match like that. You were so excited to see them that you hugged Zoro briefly before running off to the bathroom to put them in with a grin, making him roll his eyes with a smirk before he follows you.

“Figured you’d want a set since you got that third piercing.”

“Of course I did! That’s part of the whole reason I wanted them!”

Once you’ve gotten the earrings on and checked them out, you turn around and hug Zoro again, which he returns.

“You’re the best~ I love you~”

“Yeah, yeah,” he might roll his eyes again, but there’s a real smile there, “Its just some earrings, nothing that special.”

“But they’re special to me since we match now!” you pout while Zoro laughs, before you remember, “Oh!! You need to open your gift, Zoro!”

He tries to stop you when you grab his hand and drag him back to the living room, but doesn’t fight you on it. Zoro let’s you take him back and make him sit on the couch before you drop the gift bag in his lap.

“Now your turn!”

Zoro really does hate the whole gift giving thing, but the excited nervousness you have every time is cute. You’re always hopeful yet anxious that he’ll like the gift you’ve picked out for him, this year is no exception. You keep watching while he pulls the tissue paper out and eventually the gift, giving you a slightly confused look before you start to explain.

“So, you never wear a hat or gloves when it’s cold—”

“I don’t need them.”

“—but,” you let out a sigh but still smile, “I thought maybe a scarf wouldn’t be a problem, so I made you one.”

Really he’s surprised you haven’t made him anything like this until now, though he should’ve expected it by now, especially with how badly cold it’s gotten.

It’s a very simple scarf, he’s not sure about if it’s crochet or knitting since he’s not good at telling the difference, but you found what seems to be the perfect mossy green yarn and included black in it. Nothing fancy or intricate, you were probably worried the whole time you made if he’d even wear it anyway.

You’re still nervous obviously, starting to bite your lip because you think Zoro doesn’t like it, until he finally puts it on, causing you to grin once again when he looks at you.

“Well?”

“Hmm,” there’s no problem with the colors, you made sure of that, but you do adjust the scarf to where it’s wrapped around his neck once, “Now it’s perfect!”

Zoro throws an arm around your shoulders and pulls you against him, kissing your head and making you giggle at him.

“Thank you, I do like it.”

“Good! …will you wear it to my parents’ house tomorrow??”

“Seriously?”

“Please???”

You might have to promise him several things to get him to wear the scarf the next day, but Zoro does agree to it eventually. Giving gifts and having to deal with your parents talking to him all day is still a pain, he’s only willing to deal with that part of the holidays because it’s you.

[reidsbookclub]

Vows of Rivalry

Authors Note: MY FIRST AARON FIC AHH!! Idk what is scarier the fact that this is FINALLY going out to the world or the fact that my first Aaron fic does not follow cannon events. Either way I would really appreciate any feedback you guys can give me. gif credit to original creator. I had it saved on my laptop so I really do not remember

special thanks to @boldlyvoid for beta reading the first draft of this fic. pairing: Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Without further ado here is Vows of Rivalry.

Mock trial season. Every law student’s worst nightmare. Except for one.

Most students dreaded the possibility of being pitted against Aaron Hotchner—reigning champion since his first year. Hotch was renowned for his ruthless precision, impeccable argumentation, and the intimidating scowl that seemed permanently etched onto his face. But for Y/N Y/L/N, the prospect of facing Aaron was anything but dreadful. In fact, she relished it.

She could see it now: his jaw clenched, his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing whenever she’d poke holes in his carefully laid arguments. For her, it wasn’t just about winning. It was about watching Aaron Hotchner, the unflappable law prodigy, completely lose his composure.

That day was no different. The mock trial courtroom buzzed with the tension of impending arguments, the air crackling with unspoken competition. Y/N adjusted her blazer, her eyes scanning the room for her favorite opponent. There he was, already seated with his ever-present briefcase of legal weapons, jaw set and brows furrowed as he reviewed his notes. She couldn’t help the smirk tugging at her lips as she walked to her seat across from him.

The mock trial had barely begun, but the room felt like a pressure cooker. Y/N had just finished outlining her opening argument when Aaron stood to cross-examine her witness. As always, he delivered each question with surgical precision, his voice sharp, his gaze colder than a winter morning.

But she wasn’t backing down.

“Your Honor,” she interrupted smoothly, “he simply doesn’t have the evidence necessary for—”

“Evidence?” Aaron interrupted, his calm demeanor finally cracking. He looked like he was about to explode, his face flushed with frustration. “Evi—Jesus, woman, you make me so annoyed sometimes. I just want to very publicly divorce you!”

The courtroom fell silent, and Y/N stared at him, stunned by his outburst. Then, instead of being thrown off, she smiled. “You’d have to marry me first, Hotchner.”

Aaron stormed off, leaving the room in a buzz of shock. The judge cleared his throat awkwardly and called for a recess, but all Y/N could think about was how much she had enjoyed watching him unravel.

Neither of them realizing that the judge for this mock trial, their peer Marcus,  had a murderous look trained to where Aaron had left. 

Flash forward — Present day

The BAU office was quieter than usual, the team scattered as they worked on different aspects of their current case. Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, tapping his pen absently against a case file, the rhythm of his movements betraying his usual calm. His mind wasn’t on the case—not entirely. Instead, it kept wandering back to Y/N. Their history, their rivalry in law school, the way she always managed to get under his skin.

His mind began to drift to that impulsive night in Vegas that had been the culmination of all that tension

The neon lights of Las Vegas blared like a siren song, luring Y/N and Aaron into a world of wildness and excess. After an exhausting week of mock trials, they and their law school classmates had decided to blow off some steam and take a trip to Vegas of all places.

“Okay, Hotchner, let’s see if you can handle another round!” Y/N challenged, her voice slightly slurred as she leaned against the bar, her hair a tousled mess.

Aaron rolled his eyes, his own drink barely clutched in his hand. “I think you’ve already had enough, Y/N. You know, you might actually lose your pants at the blackjack table this time.”

“Ha! Please, I’m a betting goddess! You’re just jealous because I outsmarted you in court last week!” she shot back, leaning in closer, her breath a mixture of fruity cocktails and determination.

“Outsmarted me? You mean you got lucky!” Aaron replied, smirking. 

“You know what? Let’s get married!”  she taunted, downing the last of her drink. 

“What?” Aaron burst out laughing, nearly spilling his drink. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope!” Y/N declared, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let’s do it. Vegas style! You and me! A wedding! Right now!”

He glanced at her, both amused and wary. “You realize that you’re completely drunk out of your mind, right? You know what they say about Vegas weddings. And I don’t want to be part of a ‘you’re-who-I-got-drunk-with’ story.”

She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Come on, Hotch! It’ll be epic! Plus, we’ll have a great story to tell during our class reunion 10 years from now about how we got wasted and tied the knot on a whim!”

“Yeah, and how you lost all your money at blackjack the same night!” he shot back, unable to hold back his laughter.

“Shut up!” she laughed, but then her expression shifted to one of playful defiance. “I dare you to come with me! We’ll show everyone that even stoic Aaron Hotcher  can do something crazy with the right company! Or are you too scared”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “You think I’m scared? You really want to drag me into this madness?”

“Absolutely!” she insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the chapel like a determined toddler. “C’mon! What’s the worst that could happen? We’ll wake up tomorrow, laugh about it!”

“Or we might actually end up married,” he replied, a mixture of thrill and dread filling him as they reached the chapel’s entrance. “What’s your plan if we do?”

“Um… we’ll just call it a really fun mistake!” she quipped, giggling as they stumbled into the small, tacky chapel. Elvis’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love” played in the background, setting the perfect absurd tone.

Inside, they approached the altar, barely able to contain their laughter. The Elvis impersonator greeted them, his eyes twinkling as he took in their disheveled appearance.

“Welcome to the chapel, lovebirds!” he boomed, clearly accustomed to drunken couples making rash decisions.

“Lovebirds?” Aaron muttered under his breath, shooting Y/N a glance. 

“Shhh! Just go with it,” she hissed, nudging him with her elbow. “It’ll be fun!”

The officiant cleared his throat. “Do you, Y/N, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“Sure, why not?” Y/N said with a grin, her tone decidedly nonchalant. “I mean, he does make a decent man most of the time.”

“Y/N!” Aaron exclaimed, mortified and amused at her flippancy.

“And do you, Aaron, take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the officiant continued, a bemused smile on his face.

Aaron shrugged dramatically, looking at Y/N with exaggerated seriousness. “I guess so. As long as she promises not to annoy me with her terrible jokes and awful puns.”

“Hey!” Y/N shot back, mock-hurt. “I’ll have you know my jokes are legendary!”

“Legendary at making people cringe,” he replied, chuckling as the officiant tried to stifle a laugh.

After a few more playful jabs and exaggerated vows—filled with drunken laughter and outrageous promises—they exchanged rings made of plastic and signed their names on the chapel’s official log, feeling giddy and foolish.

As they stumbled back out into the glittering chaos of the Vegas Strip, their marriage license in hand, they couldn't help but laugh that they even printed out one. 

“Is this even legal?” she asked not expecting a reply, glancing at their license as if it might disappear into thin air. “You would think that for a pair of law students we would know the answer” 

Aaron only shrugged, too drunk to think, tossing an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s hit the casino again. After all, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?”

As they walked, their banter flowed freely, filled with giggles and playful nudges. They knew they would laugh about this ridiculous night for years to come, even if they had to figure out how to disentangle themselves from the drunken mess they had just created.

The next morning had been awkward, to say the least. They had agreed to get the marriage annulled immediately, laughing about how ridiculous it all was. Except, somehow, neither had followed through on the paperwork. It had slipped through the cracks of their busy lives.

Now, his mind kept wandering back to Y/N wondering where she was now. He couldn’t help but notice how the victims all had a striking resemblance to her. 

The team had been called in to investigate a series of kidnappings, and the more they dug, the clearer it became for him how they all looked like Y/N. Where was she now? He couldn’t help but think. Was she safe? 

He leaned forward, pinching the bridge of his nose, the weight of it all pressing down on him. He had to find her, his protective instincts kicking in. 

“Did you find something, Garcia?” Hotch asked, breaking the silence of his office when Penelope Garcia appeared at the door, her fingers flying across her tablet.

She hesitated momentarily, her usual cheerful energy replaced with a seriousness that made Hotch’s pulse quicken.

“I… I think so, sir,” she said, her eyes widening as she glanced at her screen. “Does the name Y/N Y/L/N ring any bells?”

Hotch’s heart stopped for a moment. His eyes locked with Garcia’s, his mind racing. “Yes,” he replied, his voice strained. “She’s… my wife.”

Garcia’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”

Hotch took a breath, the memories rushing back. “We got married… years ago. It was a mistake. We were supposed to get divorced, but… it never happened.”

Garcia blinked rapidly, trying to process what he had just revealed. “So, you’re telling me… you’re still married?”

“Yes.” Hotch’s voice was tight with emotion. 

He stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair. “What did you find?”

Garcia quickly shifted gears, “well, her co-workers reported Y/N missing yesterday after not showing up to work,” pulling up a map of the latest victim location.  “Y/N’s phone pinged from an industrial area near the docks about an hour ago. The unsub is still playing games, but I believe she is the latest victim, sir. It appears he stalked her online for a couple of weeks’”

Hotch’s jaw tightened as he listened, his professional side taking over. “Send me the coordinates. I want the team assembled now.”

~~~~~

The BAU team had nearly arrived to the warehouse, moving swiftly and silently. Hotch led the charge, his mind a blur of tactical planning and personal fear. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. Not after all these years. Not when he was just realizing how much she still meant to him.

Inside, the air was thick with dust and decay. The unsub had clearly been holding Y/N here, but as they searched the space, there was no sign of her or the unsub.

Hotch’s phone buzzed. A new message.

It was from Y/N’s phone, but the words were clearly from the unsub:

“Do you remember? Do you remember how much you tried to hate her? Tried to hide much did you love her? You won’t find her in time, Hotchner.” 

So this was someone from their past, but who? While trying to think of anyone that would’ve been trying to get close to her and hating him he couldn’t help but recall one fateful winter day that cemented them as academic rivals while also cementing his love for her. 

The cold bite of winter air seeped into the library, where a few stubborn law students huddled around textbooks and laptops. Outside, snowflakes drifted lazily, painting the world in white, but inside, a different kind of storm was brewing.

Aaron Hotchner glanced up from his notes, his sharp gaze falling on Y/N, who sat across from him in their study group. The usual fire was in her eyes, and the faintest trace of a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she readied herself for another round of their never-ending banter.

“You’re completely wrong, Hotchner,” she said, her voice sharp and teasing. “Your interpretation of the case law is so off-base, I’m surprised you’re even here right now.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Is that so? Enlighten me, then. If you can, that is.”

Y/N’s face flushed, her hazel eyes narrowing in mock-annoyance. The faint crinkle of her nose appeared—the one that always seemed to surface when she was riled up. It was something he had started to look forward to, something that drove him to keep pushing her buttons just to see that reaction.

“Don’t tempt me,” she said with a huff, leaning forward to point at his notes. “Right here, you missed the entire point of the ruling. You can’t just cherry-pick the facts that support your argument. You’re better than that… or at least, I thought you were.”

Her words were laced with sarcasm, but Aaron found himself barely hearing them. Instead, his mind focused on the way her hair fell loosely over her shoulders, how her cheeks were tinged pink from the warmth of the heated room, and how that fire in her eyes sparked every time they clashed.

She was beautiful in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to fully acknowledge until now. He’d always admired her intellect, her tenacity, the way she stood her ground no matter how hard he pushed. But today—today something shifted. It wasn’t just respect or admiration anymore. It was something deeper, something that hit him square in the chest as if knocking the air out of him.

God, he loved seeing her like this—passionate, focused, and utterly unrelenting. His heart raced as he watched her argue her point, lips moving with a confidence that captivated him. He’d always riled her up for the sake of competition, but now he realized it was more than that. He loved it. Loved the way her nose crinkled, the way her skin flushed pink when she got under his skin and knew it.

She was like a force of nature, and Aaron—against all logic—was caught in her storm.

“Are you even listening to me?” Y/N’s voice cut through his thoughts, her eyes narrowing further as she leaned back, arms crossed.

Aaron blinked, shaking off the haze of his realization, and quickly returned to their debate. “Of course I am. I’m just trying to figure out if you actually believe that nonsense you’re spewing.”

Her mouth fell open, and that familiar spark lit in her eyes again. “You’re impossible!” she snapped, throwing her pen down dramatically.

Aaron bit back a grin. “And you’re predictable.”

That earned him a glare, but he could see the amusement behind it. She thrived on this, just like he did. The banter, the push and pull—it was their language, and he’d never felt more alive than when they were like this. But now it came with a deeper ache, a longing he hadn’t anticipated.

Later that day, after they’d packed up and left the library, Aaron lingered near the hallway, stuffing his textbooks into his bag. Y/N’s voice drifted from around the corner, chatting with her friends.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out with us tonight?” one of the girls asked. “Marcus has been wanting to ask you out and you always shoot him down.” 

Y/N laughed softly. “No, I’m good. I promised myself I’d focus on law school. No distractions. I’m staying single and just keeping my head down until graduation.”

Aaron froze, his breath catching in his throat. The words stung more than they should have. He had just admitted to himself that he might be falling for her, and now—now she was putting up a wall, and he wasn’t even on the other side of it.

Single. Focused on her studies. No distractions.

It was clear where she stood, and Aaron felt a knot of frustration tighten in his chest. He could never compete with her ambitions, nor would he try. He respected that about her. But still, it hit him hard, this quiet admission of hers that he had no place in her plans.

He stood there, hidden just out of view, feeling the weight of her words settle over him. He had never been one to chase something he couldn’t have, and Y/N had just made it clear she was determined to stay unattached.

But if he couldn’t have her the way he wanted—if she would never see him the way he saw her—then he’d find another way to stay close to her.

That night, as snow continued to fall softly outside the window, Aaron made a silent vow to himself. If being her rival was the only way to be near her, then so be it. He would challenge her, argue with her, push her to her limits—because that’s when she was at her best, and it was the only way he could keep her in his life.

If being her academic rival was all he could be, then he would make sure to be the best damn rival she ever had.

The blood drained from his face as he reread the words. This was personal. The unsub had been watching them—watching their past, their history. And now, Hotch knew he was the key to finding Y/N. Could it have been Marucs? Marcus was the  other relentless suitor that y/n had. Could it be him? 

He called Garcia, “we are almost at the location Y/Ns phone pinged last. Look into Marcus for me, he went to school with us” he ordered 

“Looks  like Marcus has had many girlfriends that resemble Y/N physical appearance since graduating, up until last year in which his girlfriend broke up with him to marry someone else. The wedding date coincides with the first killing sir” 

“Thanks Garcia” he said as they arrived at the location. 

The SWAT team had cleared the perimeter, and Aaron Hotchner stood just outside the door of the dilapidated warehouse. The once-industrial building had long since been abandoned, its cracked windows and rusting metal exterior fitting the profile of a man like Marcus Chambers—someone who had faded into the shadows, but had never truly disappeared.

Aaron’s heartbeat thudded heavily in his ears, the only sound louder than the quiet murmur of the team communicating over comms. They’d been tracking Marcus for days, and this was their best lead yet. But there was one glaring problem—it seemed Y/N wasn’t here.

And time was running out.

The door to the warehouse creaked open, and Aaron nodded to Morgan and Prentiss, signaling them to enter first. Inside, the air was stale and filled with the faint scent of metal and dust. There were scattered pieces of old machinery and boxes, but it was otherwise empty—save for a table and the man seated at the far end of the room.

Marcus.

His dark eyes were fixed on the team as they approached, his mouth curled into a bitter smirk. He didn’t make any effort to move or run, didn’t flinch as SWAT flooded in behind them, guns raised and voices sharp with commands. He sat there, unbothered, like he’d been expecting them all along.

Aaron’s jaw clenched as he approached, unable to shake the burning anger and desperation clawing at him. Y/N’s life depended on this, and every second felt like an eternity.

“Where is she?” Aaron’s voice was low, controlled, but the fury beneath it was unmistakable.

Marcus’s eyes flickered with amusement as he leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms lazily. “You think it’s that easy, don’t you, Hotchner? You swoop in, play the hero, and save the day.” He sneered. “But not this time.”

Aaron’s fists clenched at his sides. The rage boiling inside him was barely contained, but he couldn’t afford to lose control now. He couldn’t let Marcus see just how much he was getting to him. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“I’m not playing games with you, Marcus,” Aaron growled, stepping closer, his voice like steel. “Tell me where she is, or I swear you won’t like how this ends.”

Morgan stepped forward ready to jump and protect his boss and close friend, hand resting on his gun, ready for any sign of danger. “You’re surrounded, man, you’re not walking out of here, so you might as well make it easier on yourself.”

Marcus chuckled darkly, shaking his head as if amused by the entire situation. “Easier? For me? This was never about making it easy, agent.” His eyes drifted back to Aaron, and there was something unsettling in his gaze—something cold, unhinged. “This was about making you pay.”

Aaron felt the weight of those words, and it took everything in him to keep his expression neutral. He had known Marcus back in law school—had always seen him as a man with an inferiority complex, always jealous of anyone who succeeded around him. But that was nothing compared to the bitterness Aaron saw now.

“This is about Y/N, isn’t it?” Aaron said, voice steady but cutting. “You’ve hated me since the mock trial when I said I would marry her, but Marcus you should know we were just rattling each other”

“Bullshit” Marcus yelled irritated 

Marcus’s smirk widened. “You have no idea, do you? No idea what it felt like watching you—golden boy Aaron Hotchner—get everything handed to you. The grades, the reputation, and then… her.”

Could he really know about Vegas, about them actually marrying? Aaron thought. It wasn’t as if they actually lived like husband and wife, they had just forgotten to annul the marriage, granted, as far as he knew neither of them had dated after that day. Could he really be this infuriated by a piece of paper? Aaron decided not to focus on the  pang of guilt he felt by thinking of the marriage to the love of his life as just a “piece of paper” he had to figure out where she was before it was too late.

“I watched you two,” Marcus continued, his voice laced with bitterness. “Watched you marry her like it was some joke. Like she was some prize you could just win and forget about.” 

Aaron’s stomach twisted. It all went back to Vegas. The night they’d gotten drunk, the night he and Y/N had woken up with rings on their fingers and hazy memories of how they got there. A wedding that should have been forgotten, annulled, but had somehow turned into something much more permanent, a silent promise that they would always be there for each other. A promise he couldn't break, not after all this time. 

 And Marcus had been there. He’d seen it all. And he was dead set on breaking the fragile bond that was made that night between Aaron and Y/N.  

Suddenly, a faint sound caught his attention—a soft, muffled cry coming from the back of the warehouse. Hotch motioned for the team to follow as they approached a locked room. Kicking the door open, his breath caught in his throat.

There she was. Y/N. Bound and gagged but alive.

You were there that night?” Aaron asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Marcus nodded, his eyes flickering with something darker—something dangerous. “I saw it all. You don’t even remember, do you? How you laughed about it. How you said it didn’t matter, how it would all be a funny memory years down the road. But it mattered to me.”

Aaron’s chest tightened. Yes, there was laughter that night. But, he hadn’t brushed it off like it meant nothing. It had scared him the days after how much that marriage had meant to him. But Marcus had twisted that memory, had held onto it all these years, letting it fester into something deadly.

“This isn’t about Vegas, Marcus,” Aaron said coldly. “This is about your obsession. You’re angry because you never stood a chance.”

Marcus’s smirk faltered for a brief second, but the madness in his eyes only intensified. “I didn’t stand a chance because you took her from me before I even had one.”

Aaron’s fists clenched tighter, his patience fraying. “I'm done with this, I’m done with you. Tell me where she is. Now.”

Marcus chuckled, leaning forward in his chair, his voice dripping with malice. “You really think I’d make it that easy for you? No, Hotchner. This is your punishment. You don’t get to save her this time.”

Aaron’s blood ran cold, a chill settling deep into his bones. He stepped closer, towering over Marcus, his voice deadly calm. “You tell me where she is, or I swear–” Aaron couldn’t finish his threat, noticing Marcus’ eyes flickered to the timer he set on a nearby table. 

Marcus met Aaron’s eyes, his smile fading into something more sinister. “You’re too late. She will be dead in 20 minutes.”

Aaron’s heart stopped. Too late. No, that couldn’t be possible. Not Y/N. Not when they were so close.

“Where is she?” Morgan demanded, his voice rising.

Marcus didn’t answer. His gaze drifted lazily around the room, savoring the tension, the desperation on Aaron’s face. “You’ll never find her. She’s too far gone.”

Aaron lunged forward, grabbing Marcus by the collar and hauling him to his feet, rage boiling over. “Where is she?!”

Morgan and Prentiss moved to pull Aaron back, but he was already too far gone. Marcus laughed in his face, taunting him with the one thing Aaron couldn’t afford to lose: time.

And then, in a quiet, venomous whisper, Marcus finally spoke.

“You’re looking in the wrong place.”

The words sank in, chilling Aaron to his core. Marcus had known all along that they’d come here, had expected this, planned for it. And while they wasted time finding him—Y/N was somewhere else.

Somewhere Aaron might never reach her in time.

He released Marcus, stepping back, chest heaving with frustration and panic. They had him in custody, but it wasn’t enough. Not without Y/N.

They were running out of time, and Aaron knew he couldn’t afford a single second more

Back at the BAU Penelope Garcia’s fingers flew across the keyboard, eyes glued to the flurry of data populating the screen. She’d been digging into Marcus's background, searching for anything that could lead them to where he was keeping Y/N. “Come on, come on…” she muttered under her breath, frustration building—until suddenly, a detail popped up, too familiar to ignore. “Wait a minute,” she whispered, freezing. She leaned closer, eyes widening as the puzzle pieces clicked. “The old library!”

Spencer Reid, sitting across from her, looked up from the stack of files he was pouring over. “What about it?”

Garcia spun her chair toward him, her face pale with realization. “That abandoned library—the one Hotch and Marcus used to study at with the group. It was scheduled for demolition last year, but the plans were scrapped. No one’s been there in years.”

Reid’s eyes lit up with recognition, and his voice dropped. “It’s isolated. Quiet. The perfect place to hide someone.”

Garcia immediately tapped into her comms, panic lacing her voice as she patched through to Hotch. "Hotch, I think we’ve found her. She’s at the old library. Marcus has her at the place you all used to study.”

There was a beat of silence before Hotch's voice came through, tight with urgency. "We are  on our way."

Aaron Hotchner’s heart pounded as he pushed through the crumbling doors of the abandoned library, his flashlight slicing through the dust-choked darkness. Morgan was right behind him, followed closely by Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi, their footsteps eerily silent against the cracked tile floors. The air was heavy with mustiness, and the faint echoes of their past—years spent studying in this very place—seemed to haunt the hallways. But there was no time for memories. They had to find her.

A distant sound, soft but unmistakable—a faint whimper—cut through the silence. Hotch froze, his breath hitching. His pulse quickened as his eyes darted toward a door partially ajar at the far end of the room. He motioned for the team to fan out as he crept forward, fear and determination twisting in his gut.

He pushed the door open, revealing Y/N—bound, bruised, but alive—lying in the corner of the room. Relief surged through him like a wave, but there was no time to celebrate, she was breathing but not conscious. Morgan moved quickly to her side, cutting her restraints while JJ and Prentiss scanned the area, and Rossi stood guard. Hotch knelt beside her, his voice low but filled with an emotion he rarely let surface. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

Her eyes, though tired and scared, widened when she saw him. Relief washed over her face “Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking for the first time in years.

She coughed softly as she tried to smile. “You… you found me.”

“Always,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms. “I’ll always find my wife.”

tagging some of my friends that I know would not mind reading an Aaron fic

@samuel-de-champagne-problems @boldlyvoid @reidsaurora @milla984 @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @reid-ingandweeping @ssahotchnerr

[sosa2imagines]

Hii, Dad Bucky ask🫶🏼

What would he do with a few months old twins or triplets? And maybe it was mother's day so he wanted to make something really special for reader as it was her first🫶🏼

Hi, thank you so much for this lovely ask. Bucky would absolutely make sure to make Mother's day very special.

Warning- Pure fluff.

The first rays of dawn were peeking through the curtains when Bucky woke up. He turned his head to look at you, still sound asleep, a peaceful expression on your face. For a moment, he stayed still, memorizing the sight.

Today was special. It was your first Mother’s Day, and Bucky was determined to make it perfect.

Bucky slowly sat up, being careful not to wake you up, and smiled to himself, thinking about today and how it would all go. He softly stroked your hair before slowly climbing out of bed, making sure the comforter was wrapped tightly around you and wouldn't wake you up. He quietly walked out of the bedroom, closing the door to make sure that his movements wouldn't wake you up.

The real challenge, however, lay in the next room.

Samuel Steven Barnes and Natalia Anthony Barnes, your beautiful twins, were already awake and babbling in their cribs. Bucky smiled, running a hand through his hair as he prepared for battle. “Alright munchkins...” he whispered. “Let’s do this for Mommy.”

Dressing the twins was no small feat. By the time Samuel squirmed out of his onesie for the third time and Natalia decided to try her best impression of a gymnast, Bucky was sweating. But he persevered, and finally, both babies were dressed in matching outfits that read ‘World’s Best Mom.’

“Mission accomplished!” he muttered, placing them gently in their bouncy seats. “Now for phase two.”

Breakfast wasn’t exactly his forte, Bucky was grateful for the help from Steve, who had dropped off your favorite dishes from a local breakfast diner. Steve also had given Bucky an apron with the slogan, ‘World’s Best Dad, give Me a Kiss, Mom!’ on it. Bucky laughed as he tied the apron, appreciating Steve's humor, and thinking about how you would appreciate the gesture too.

When everything was ready, he returned to your shared bedroom with the twins in his arms. “Doll…” he called softly. “Wake up.”

You stirred, blinking your eyes open to find Bucky standing there, a baby in each arm and a sheepish smile on his face. Your gaze shifted to the twins’ outfits, and tears welled up as you read the words. “Oh, Bucky…”

“They insisted on dressing up for you,” he said with a grin, carefully handing Samuel to you while Natalia remained cradled in his metal arm.

You kissed each twin on the forehead, your heart swelling with love. “You did all this?”

“Of course!” he replied, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “But we’re just getting started.”

He led you to the kitchen, where breakfast was waiting. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, and fresh fruit. You raised an eyebrow, and Bucky gave you a sheepish smile.

“Fine, I didn’t make it. But I did make the coffee!” He gestured to the steaming mug sitting on the table, pride evident in his tone.

It was no secret that learning how to use the coffee machine had been a two-month ordeal. You took a sip, smiling up at him. “It’s perfect.”

After breakfast, he handed you a piece of paper. It had the twins’ tiny handprints in bright colors, alongside a handwritten note:

Doll, I know this journey hasn’t always been easy, but you’ve faced every challenge with care, kindness, strength, and so much love. Watching you with our kids has shown me what it truly means to have a family. Thank you for everything you do, for them, for me, for us. I love you more than words can say. —Yours always, Bucky

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you hugged him tightly. “You’re incredible.”

You couldn’t stop admiring the tiny, colorful handprints on the card. You traced the edges of the prints with your fingers, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you glanced at Bucky.

“Okay,” you said, looking at him with a curious smile. “How on earth did you get the twins to do this? I know they don’t sit still for more than two seconds.”

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “It… uh… wasn’t exactly easy, doll.” He leaned back in his chair, the memory of the ordeal making him chuckle.

“First, I had to find non-toxic paint that they wouldn’t try to eat. That took me, like, a solid hour. I kept hearing Sam’s voice in my head lecturing me about safety.” he added with a smirk. “Then I thought, ‘How hard could it be?’”

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a laugh. “Famous last words.”

“Exactly.” He shook his head. “I spread out an old sheet in the living room and put them in their high chairs. I figured it would contain the chaos.”

“And?”

“And I was wrong.” he admitted, rolling his eyes at himself. “Sammy decided paint was better on his face than the paper. I turned around for one second, and he had a red handprint right in the middle of his forehead. Talia, on the other hand…” He paused, groaning. “She somehow managed to grab the paint cup and fling it across the room. The wall might still have a little blue on it.”

You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. “Oh my god, Bucky!”

“Yeah, laugh it up,” he said with a mock glare, though his lips twitched in amusement. “By the time I wrestled the paint cup away from her, Sammy was clapping his hands together and splattering paint everywhere. I looked like I’d just come back from an art war zone.”

“Please tell me you took pictures?” you teased, wiping away tears of laughter.

“Absolutely not!” he deadpanned. “I was too busy trying to keep them from eating the paint or smearing it in each other’s hair. But eventually, I got them to cooperate. I held Sammy’s hand over the paper and pressed it down while humming to him and he loves that, you know.”

You nodded, your heart swelling at the thought of Bucky patiently singing to your son.

“And Talia…” He shook his head fondly. “That little troublemaker fought me the whole time. She kept trying to grab the paper instead of pressing her hand down. I think she was offended I wasn’t letting her ‘help.’”

You laughed again, picturing your strong-willed daughter glaring at Bucky with her tiny fists covered in paint.

“But after a lot of trial and error…” he continued, “and a lot of cleaning up, I finally got it done. I think I scrubbed paint off my arm for a full hour last night.”

You reached out and placed a hand on his cheek, your smile softening. “You went through all that just to make me feel special?”

“Of course,” he said, his voice tender. “You’re the best mom in the world, doll. You deserve it.”

Tears filled your eyes again as you leaned in to kiss him, your heart full of love for the man who’d gone to such lengths to celebrate you. “Thank you, Bucky. For everything.”

“Anything for you,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “And, uh, by the way…”

“What?” you asked looking at him.

“There’s one more thing,” he said, pulling out a small box. Inside was a delicate gold necklace, the locket engraved with his and the twins’ initials.

Your hand flew to your mouth as you admired the thoughtful gift. “Bucky…”

“Happy Mother’s Day, doll,” he murmured, wiping away your tears before kissing you gently.

You spent the rest of the day in a blissful haze, playing with the twins, laughing with Bucky, and feeling more loved than ever. It was a day you would never forget, a perfect celebration of the family you’d built together.

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles

@emerald-writes @caplanbuckybarnes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066

@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt

@unaxv @pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss

[junkissed]

healing hands

member — junhui x f reader genre — smut, fluff, f2l, comfort sex word count — 2.3k synopsis — wen junhui: your best friend? check. roommate? check. now you can add "personal masseuse" to that list, too. warnings — description of female anatomy, mentioned that reader gets periods (but isn't on it in this fic), super soft dom!jun, fingering, breastplay, hand kink if you squint notes — requested by @jaemlonfz — this has been driving me insane every time i open my inbox so i hope now it drives you insane too :D if you liked this please be sure to reblog or send me an ask, feedback is super appreciated and helps me write more fics like this!

movie nights with jun are your favorite nights.

that is, they usually are.

usually you get to curl up in bed with your best friend for a sleepover, and despite the fact that you’re already roommates and you see him every night anyway, it still feels extra special. the snacks, the dimmed lights, watching movies into the late hours of the night until you fall asleep.

except tonight.

you groan and roll over onto your side with a humph, and jun shifts his arm around you with a frown. "something wrong?"

"think i'm about to start my period soon. my boobs have been so sore all day.” you whine, and he frowns again at your discomfort.

“would it help if you, like, massaged them?”

you glance up at him suspiciously. “what, are you offering or something?”

he shrugs, far too nonchalantly for someone who just offered to play with your boobs. he did just offer that, right? “i mean, if you want me to. or i could go get the heating pad instead.”

“i… alright, fine.” you push yourself back up into a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard of your bed.

jun grabs the remote and mutes the tv as you tug your shirt off over your head, awkwardly trying not to make eye contact with him when you notice him staring.

you start to reach behind yourself to unclasp your bra, but his hands quickly find yours and help you with it. the loose straps slide down your shoulders, and you catch yourself holding your breath as he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor, leaving you topless in front of him. 

your nipples are already hard, and you force yourself not to cover them instinctively. it’s not the first time he’s seen you naked, but it is the first time he’ll be touching you while you are, and it makes you shy.

he pulls his hands away and folds them in his lap, waiting until you nod before he gently cups your breasts in his palms. 

you have to fight the urge to shiver as he starts to massage your boobs, his fingers moving across your chest with tender yet deliberate motions. you let out a soft sigh and relax your shoulders, melting into the pillows. maybe it’s your hormones making you not think clearly, but he actually is giving relief to the ache in your muscles. the fact that your best friend is devastatingly gorgeous isn’t helping your case.

his slender fingers press into your sides, long nails scratching gently against your skin as he works. you’re sure he must be able to feel your racing heartbeat beneath his palm, but you ignore it and try to focus on the tingly feeling in your stomach instead.

he bends his knuckles, dragging the pads of his fingertips carefully across your chest and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

he brushes his thumb against your nipple and it makes you shiver involuntarily, and he has to resist the urge to press his whole face into your chest. at this point he can’t tell which one of you is enjoying this more, because to him this is a dream come true. getting to touch you, hold you, make you feel good.

he has to focus every ounce of his energy into not getting hard, because it's totally normal to give your best friend a very platonic boob massage, right? 

at least, that's what he tells himself until his hand squeezes you a little too hard and you let out the whiniest, most guttural moan he's ever heard in his life and instantly his crotch is stiff as a board.

your eyes widen in shock at the noise that escapes you, but for some strange reason you don’t feel embarrassed by it at all. if anything, you just want him to keep going.

he starts to pull away but you quickly put your hands on top of his, holding him in place against your chest. "don't stop. please? feels so good…"

"do— do you want…?" he stammers, and you cut him off with another soft moan.

you let go of his hands and after a moment he continues, letting him move wherever he wants across your body. you watch his eyes dart back and forth as if can't seem to decide what he wants to do first.

his palms glide over your stomach, creeping lower until his fingertips come to a stop at the waistband of your pajama pants.

"can i?" he asks in a choked whisper, looking up at you with a glazed look in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. you whimper out his name in response, lifting your hips to encourage him.

slowly his hand disappears into your pants, and you gasp as you feel his fingers glide over the warm skin of your stomach beneath your panties. he keeps his eyes on you the entire time, studying your reaction as he continues moving down.

he nearly falls off the bed in surprise when he finally finds your entrance, and your hand flies out to grip his wrist between your legs. "oh my god, you're so fucking wet—" he chokes out, adding pressure to his fingertips to draw another moan out of you.

he runs his fingers through your folds before tentatively pushing the tip of his index finger into you, watching as you lean back against the pillows and arch off the bed. "jun—" you gasp, squeezing his wrist tighter.

"stop?" he asks nervously at your reaction, and you nearly give yourself whiplash from how fast you shake your head no.

"don't stop touching me, please," you moan, lifting your hips up to grind against his hand. “fuck—please, jun.”

he positions himself beside you to get a better angle before cupping your pussy with his hand, letting out a groan as he feels your throbbing heat. you keep your hand on his wrist and he lets you guide him where you want him, pressing his finger deeper into you. you can't help the way your walls clench around him, whimpering as he slowly pulls his finger out before pushing it back in.

your grip on his hand loosens and he manages to work another finger into you, your cunt squeezing his knuckles and pulling him in.

“fuck, you're so tight… baby, spread your legs a little for me— there you go.” he coos when you cooperate, wordlessly following his instructions without even a second of hesitation. you try not to linger on the name he calls you but your body betrays you, clenching so hard around his fingers that he gives you a curious look and you have to pretend to be oblivious.

“you like that… baby?” he asks with a toothy grin, and you whine shyly, giving him all the information he needs. he curls his fingers upwards inside you and your legs try to clamp shut around him, but he just pulls them apart again and continues the motion of his fingers.

“just relax, baby. i'll take care of you,” he says softly, leaning over your body and bringing his free hand back up to knead your breast. within minutes he's reduced you to a whimpering, begging mess, and you’ve forgotten all about your soreness with his gentle hands caressing every inch of you. 

your breath catches in your throat and you can’t break your eyes away from the sight of his arm down the front of your pants, disappearing from view at the wrist. thick veins scattered across his forearm bulge with exertion, and you have the overwhelming urge to run your fingers over his arms and trace each and every vein.

he hums out your name, drawing your attention back up to his face. “can i kiss you?”

you can barely manage a nod, pulling him down to meet your lips in a searing kiss. his kisses grow deeper simultaneously as his fingers grow rougher, capturing your moans with his lips until it makes you dizzy.

his cock is aching, and if it were any other time he probably would’ve made some excuse and slinked off to his room to jerk off to the thought of you. but he’s so fixated on your body, lips pressed against yours and long fingers buried in your dripping cunt, his own pleasure is the last thing on his mind. he doesn’t care if he never gets off ever again, not when he has you laid out right here in front of him, making sounds better than he could have ever imagined.

he breaks away from you and you whimper at the loss, chest heaving with shallow breaths as he moves down your body to rest his chin against your stomach.

“would this make them feel better?” he asks as he looks up at you, tilting his head to press his lips against the side of your boob in a gentle kiss.

“already feels so good—” your hands fall down to hold his head, threading your fingers in his head in a futile effort to help. “jun, please, you feel so good.”

he smiles again and carefully wraps his lips around your breast, never breaking eye contact with you as he stares up at you laying on your stomach. his weight feels good on top of you, and his mouth feels even better. he flattens his tongue and runs it over your nipple, groaning against your chest.

finally his mouth leaves your breast, replacing it with his other hand as he adjusts his fingers, positioning his thumb against your clit and beginning to rub small circles. your hips buck upwards from the stimulation, but he pins you down to the bed with his elbow, his other hand still occupied with your breast.

“sit still, sweetheart,” he says with a short laugh, though his voice comes out significantly more breathier than when he last spoke a few minutes ago. “you’re gripping my fingers so tight. just relax for me.”

but his words only make you clench around him harder, a choked whimper leaving your lips. “close, jun— ‘m so close, please…”

he curls his fingers deeper inside you, his thumb pressing more roughly against your clit as he builds you up closer to your release. he can tell you’re right at the edge, can feel your wetness gushing around his fingers, and it only spurs him to keep going. “promise i’m gonna make you feel so good, ‘mkay? you can let go whenever you want, baby.”

it doesn’t take long before you’re crumbling in his arms, mouth falling open in a gasp as your eyes wrench shut and your body freezes. your hand tightens around his wrist but he keeps going, the gentle motions of his fingers carrying you through your orgasm and leaving you panting for breath.

every muscle in your body is tensed as he continues to work you until you fall into a second orgasm before the first has even fully ended. your body is covered in sweat as you writhe against his hand, your pajama pants sticking uncomfortably to your legs.

your cunt continues to pulse around jun’s fingers as they grind to a halt, blinking your eyes open as your vision gradually begins to return to you. you let out a shaky sigh and look up at him as he slowly pulls his fingers out of your pants.

“you feel better now?” he says. he starts to scoot away from you, but you whine and try to grab onto him to tug him back closer, and he pauses.

“wait, jun—”

“mm?”

your grip on his wrist is weak, but he lets you pull him back easily anyway. “can you, just… don’t go. please?”

his smile lights up the entire room, so bright that it outshines the light coming from the muted tv. he leans over to kiss your forehead, his lips as gentle as his voice. “of course. what do you need?” 

“you. a long, hot shower. but mostly you.”

he smiles again. “i can help with that. if you want me to.”

“why would you think wouldn’t i want you to?” you prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, catching the way his eyes briefly glance down at your bare breasts but pretends he doesn’t.

he flops down on the bed beside you with a nervous giggle. “just giving you a chance to change your mind. i don’t know if you… nevermind.”

you pause, wondering what he was going to say. the lines of friendship are long gone by now, blurred by activities that feel too intimate to say out loud, but that small part of you is still worried about losing your best friend.

you run your thumb along the length of his arm, feeling the little divot on the inside of his elbow and tracing the grooves from his veins as you think carefully about your next words.

“do you—” you pause, wondering if it’s the right time or even the right thing to say. but with him, it’s a chance worth taking, so why not? you clear your throat before trying again. “will you sleep over? in here, with me?”

he smiles again, and relief washes over you as he leans over to press a tiny, gentle kiss to your lips. “i wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else tonight.”

you grin into his kiss, squeezing his arm lightly. “good. because i owe you a massage now.”

“oh, really?”

you let go of his arm and reach up to rub your thumb along his cheek. “gotta return the favor somehow.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

taglist | @onlymingyus @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @photographic-girl @just-here-to-read-01 @wonuziex @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @dkakapizzaboy @skzzooyaaa @zozojella @rainyjeno @jwnghyuns @uwuheeseungie @miriamxsworld @synthetickitsune @simeonswhore @junhour @foxdaisy @limesorbets @98-0603 @fairybinie @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @mingminghao @jeanjacketjesus @luvwonyy @tinkerbell460 @novalpha @ronnie97b @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @usari @hyneyedfiz @honestlydooetree @ktackore @k-drama-adict @cloecard @valentxi @aaniag @saladgirl @crvs4vldtn @georyanisvz @sashaaah @aaa-sia @kokoiinuts @wondipity @isabellah29 @miujunhui @naajaeminsgf @dokyeomkyeom

strikethrough means your blog cannot be tagged, please check your visibility settings and make sure they are off so i can tag you properly!

if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

[svtiddiess]

Birthday Mornings

Synopsis: It’s Jeonghan’s birthday, and you plan to wake him up with a surprise. But this is Yoon Jeonghan we’re talking about, so you end up being the one surprised instead.

Pairing: Jeonghan x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, one shot, established relationship

Rating: sfw

Word count: 782

Warnings: none! Lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Happy birthday Jeonghan. I hope you're able to celebrate your birthday surrounded by loved ones.

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Placing the final touches of the special breakfast you made for Jeonghan, you giggle, sneaking in a little surprise. Getting up at 5 am is a pain in the ass, but unfortunately for your sleep schedule, you'd do anything to make Jeonghan happy.

He'd do the same for you, of course; in fact, he's gone above and beyond many times to make you smile. When he's on tour, he stays up at odd hours just to call and ask about your day. In every country he visits, he makes sure to buy something that reminds him of you. Your apartment is filled with little keepsakes, each holding a memory of him. He’s flown across the world countless times just to surprise you, and the moment you mention you're not feeling well, he's at your doorstep within minutes—no matter where he is or what he's doing.

You often wonder how you got so lucky to have Jeonghan in your life. You're a normal corporate slave while he's a world-famous idol. Your two worlds should not have collided, yet here you both are. You still remember the day you met him—or, more accurately, the day you literally fell into his arms.

It was one of those days when you were rushing to work. With your arms full—juggling many things, including a cup of coffee—you accidentally tripped and fell right into Jeonghan’s arms, spilling your coffee all over him. You apologised profusely and insisted on paying for the dry cleaning, knowing his shirt was designer. But he refused your offer and instead asked you out on a date. Still feeling guilty about ruining his (very expensive) shirt, you agreed. The rest was (according to Jeonghan) history. To this day, you're thankful that you spilt coffee on him that day, although he still teases you about it from time to time.

Smiling, you grab the tray and quietly tiptoe towards the bedroom, where you assume Jeonghan is still sound asleep. But when you see the empty bed, panic sets in. Frantically looking around the room, you head towards the bathroom, hoping he's there. Just as you reach the door, two hands grab your shoulders, and a voice shouts in your ear. You scream, dropping the tray in shock.

Jeonghan tries to catch the tray, but it is futile; the tray's contents, including the cupcake you woke up at 5 am to bake, decorated the bedroom floor. You stare at the floor in disbelief. The surprise you so meticulously prepared is now nothing more than a messy glob on the floor.

Jeonghan steps in front of you, pouting as he apologises for what happened.

"I'm so sorry, love. I didn't know you were holding something," he says softly, glancing down at the scattered mess with a guilty smile.

"I'll make it up to you by baking cupcakes with you. I'll even clean up," he offers.

"Hannie, it's fine."

"No, it's not fine! You woke up early just to surprise me, and I ruined it," he protests, his shoulders slumping.

"Han, really, it's fine."

He throws himself into your arms, wrapping you in a tight hug and nestling his face against your neck.

"Hannie's sorry. Please forgive Hannie," he whimpers, his big eyes looking up at you with a pleading expression. You giggle, the scene reminding you of the time you had to apologise to him for spilling coffee all over him.

"Hannie, it's really fine. There's still a bunch of cupcakes left," you chuckle.

"There's more cupcakes?" He blinks at you in disbelief.

"Of course, there's more cupcakes. What kind of weirdo only makes one cupcake?"

"Well…you are kind of weird."

"Jeonghan!"

You let out a sigh and shake your head.

"I'm just sad the surprise got ruined," you mull.

"It's not. I can always pretend to be surprised later," he grins as if he's done nothing wrong.

Too tired to argue with him, you simply sigh and agree. After years of dating him, you've learned that it's better to go along with his shenanigans than to go against them. You truly got to know the meaning of the phrase 'if you can't beat them, join them' after dating Jeonghan.

He wraps his arms around your waist and places a soft peck on your lips.

"I already know what my birthday wish will be," he mumbles against your lips.

"What?"

"Spending the rest of my life celebrating birthdays with you," he grins cheekily.

You blush at his words. That’s Yoon Jeonghan for you—the smooth talker, the trickster, the flirt, the cuddle bug, and, most importantly, your boyfriend.

You pull him into a deep kiss, smiling against his lips.

"Happy birthday Hannie."

[ultimate-chickennougat]

| Shut up for me, love, | (part 2)

Part 1 (finding out you're pregnant w/Megumi)

Toji Fushiguro x Wife!Reader

Toji can't help but love you and your baby bump!

Word Count: 1.6k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, Toji has a job, slightly suggestive, lots of pregnancy (mentions symptoms)

A/n: This has generated so many pregnancy fic ideas...

Your husband, Toji, had been a great help through the first trimester of your pregnancy. He was always giving you massages, bringing you water and snacks, and spending lots of quality time with you, among other things, and you were very grateful for it all. 

Many changes were going on throughout your pregnancy, as to be expected now in your second trimester. While the morning sickness was now gone, there was a number of new troubles you could note. Most importantly, the bump. 

For the most part it was a blessing, even when it caused a number of effects, such as walking differently and feeling a rather strange weight on your hips, something you hadn’t dealt with beforehand. It was proof of a growing baby, and both you and Toji couldn’t be more happy about it. Instead, the effects it had on your husband were the real concerns. 

When you were starting to show, your husband couldn’t stop taking pictures of you. It was quite out of the ordinary for Toji, who rarely ever customized anything on his phone or computer, when he finally took it upon himself to learn such things, pasting your image everywhere he could. His new favorite pastime during breaks at work was scrolling through his pictures of you (some of which were taken in the last 5 hours), saving them in a special folder and smiling to himself. 

Your pregnancy in general made him clingy. Along with the pictures, he cut his hours at work and stayed home to assist you, which was appreciated but put a hindrance in your housework. Toji would stand around watching you do everything from unloading the dishwasher to changing the sheets on the bed, leaning against the wall as he tried to lock eyes much to your dismay. 

Fully confident in your ability to do such things, he still found himself keeping a much closer eye on you, only comforted when he was in the same house and could hear, if not see, you. Toji had already began to realize this himself, that it wasn’t an increase in safety concern that caused his behavior. While he always wanted to have eyes on you, to make sure you were out of harm’s way regardless of your pregnancy, there was something he missed so much when he was away from you. 

Watching you cover your swollen tummy with a nightgown, one he picked out specially for you on a shopping trip. It sinched in high, right above the bump that was evident and growing larger each day. Seeing the light apprehension you had when bending down to pick things up, and hearing the compliments your friends gave you whenever they saw you, asking how the baby was coming along. Little things were a constant, and appreciated reminder for him that the two of you were building your family together. Something he loved more than anything. 

Because of this, your husband stopped doing his regular outings all together. Usually he would go out to watch sports and drink with his friends at least once a week or so. Him being gone gave you more time without him interrupting your chores, and he was careful with you in mind. But this new Toji, that was a soon-to-be father, figured he could just watch the game on the TV and didn’t need to go out anymore despite your protests.

“It would save us money, we should be saving up for the nursery,” Toji argued, sitting down on the couch. “I know, honey, but…,” you tried to explain to him, just how annoying he had been. Staring at you all the time, offering you a hand for every minuscule task the moment you had any difficulty with it. Reaching up ahead of you to the top cabinet and grabbing the bowl you were trying to get, when there was a stepping stool right next to you. 

It made you embarrassed, really. His eyes always so sharp, the way he looked at you every time you mistakenly fell into his trap, breaking your three minute personal best at ignoring him properly. Your cheeks heated up each time, scoffing a little as you turned back to the dirty dishes in the sink. It was truly bothersome (in some ways more than others). 

And so, it led to his great discovery of at-home sports streaming. Toji was sprawled out on the loveseat everyday, after he got home from work. Carefully using up his extra home hours, after you persistently told him to give you some space. 

While Toji enjoyed his free time, you, on the other hand, were doing laundry. The warmth of a fresh dry load, coupled with the absence of breathing down your neck, allowed you to relax for a brief moment. You piled all the clothes into a large basket, making your way down the hallway to the living room, where you usually folded it. 

Except… Toji was there. You turned around, hearing the voice of a dull commentator surely explaining something interesting, though what it was you didn’t know. Your house didn’t have too many rooms, and usually the bedroom or even the laundry room would work just fine for folding… if you could bend down well enough. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, your feet barely touched the floor from how high up it was. Bending down over the bump was impossible to do comfortably, and the task could only be done at all if you leaned down to the side and awkwardly grabbed at the basket below while maintaining your balance. 

After a few more attempts, you figured out that there wasn’t enough room on the floor and sitting like that wasn’t very comfortable for long periods of time either. You were reminded why the living room had been your favorite for doing this task, the couch was low enough and comfortable to sit on, with space for folded clothes on the side. 

Holding the basket with two hands, you stood in the hallway watching around the corner to observe your husband’s movements. Toji was lounging comfortably, with one arm laid across the top of the couch. His legs were spread wide, covering most of the seating area. If the game was almost over, there would be no reason to ask him to move… or so you thought. 

The two of you were in reverse positions, your eyes almost trying to lock with his as you admired them from afar, your original mission forgotten as he stared intently at the screen and rubbed the tiredness from his face. Now unlike you, he found your gaze to be rather relaxing, enjoying it before you would inevitably make your move. His chuckle didn’t come from the commercial on the screen, but from you, who was still standing there after 10 minutes, greatly struggling to hold the basket which was feeling extremely heavy. 

Setting it down would make a noise, so you finally decided to give up on finding some kind of good time to interject. “Is the game almost over?” You asked meekly, setting the basket down in the middle of the floor. “10 minutes, about,” he replied, still staring at the screen. You huffed under your breath, unsure of what to say. To that, Toji smirked to himself. He knew exactly what you wanted, and was very much prepared to give it to you… but why not have some fun with it?

“Need a little help?” He asked while you walked a bit closer in curiosity. “My wife doesn’t know what she wants, it’s my duty to give her some guidance…” he finally tilted his head towards you, though he had been ignoring the screen since you arrived. “C’mere… lil’ closer…” he motioned at you, as you looked at him confused. 

It only took him a second to stand up and move behind you, throwing his arms underneath your legs and back, carrying you to the couch with him. He settled you down between his legs, his body back how it was before like nothing had even happened. 

“It’s more comfortable with that bump, hmm?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “I still have to have room to do the laundry, Toji…” he chuckled, moving his legs closer together so you could feel them squishing your thighs. “That better?” you turned your head to blushing smile on your face. 

Toji grabbed the remote while you dragged the basket closer with your foot, still trapped between him. “But there’s only 10 minutes,” you watched as he changed the channel to a show you liked. “I’m gonna lose anyway, what does it matter,” he muttered. “I thought you said you stopped doing that!” you scoffed, looking back at your husband who rolled his eyes. “It’s five bucks, a work thing people are doing,” you shook your head in disapproval. 

As you relaxed into his lap, you got to folding. Part of the enjoyment you felt was due to your husband, softly rubbing your back and occasionally playing with your hair as you got to work. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to kiss me,” you frowned facing the TV, though Toji could still sense your disappointment. “That’s your reward for getting this done - I’m gettin’ pretty hungry…” he continued his massage, but wrapped his arms around your waist to hold your belly. You would make dinner after you finished.

“It feels good Toji, thank you,” you sunk back enjoying the feeling. “You deserve it, you’re doin’ so good, my wife,” a blush crept onto your face again from his words. “Was gonna ask you for a date night sometime anyway,” he mentioned, “and there’s no time like the present.” Toji gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. “So just stay nice… and… still…” he smirked. “Once you’re done, we have the whole night ahead of us.”