#balancing chemical equations | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

digiflora · 2 years ago

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𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝟐 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄!

୨♡୧ pairings :: blade x reader ; sampo x reader ; gepard x reader ; dan heng x reader ; jing yuan x reader ; luocha x reader

୨♡୧ gia's notes :: writing this as a quick lil thing because i just finished school and i want to like,,, pay homage to the crushes ive had on my classmates LMAO this is so self indulgent i'm delulu... gonna miss seeing them in the hallways ,,, this one kinda mid i wrote it on my phone while half asleep AND ITS EXAM SEASON RAHHHHHH

୨♡୧ contains: modern!school!au, fem!reader sorry, most definitely ooc because these are based off of real people oops, just cute lil crushes man feel free to judge my taste in men !

𓆩♡𓆪 BLADE

-he's in your biology class, but not close enough to really get to talk to him

-you're not sure what to make of him, but you see him in the gym a few times when you're there as well

-his stony exterior, however, is shattered in your eyes when you enter the gym one day to find it empty other than just him in there, blasting his playlist out loud

-out of all of the possible genres he could he listening to, you weren't expecting a drill remix of anime osts

-you can't help the giggle that escapes your lips from what you're witnessing, and blade freezes upon hearing it before whipping his head round to face you like a deer in headlights

-he scrambles to turn it off as you set up at a squat rack, and it's almost endearing to see such a stoic classmate look so flustered

-you almost felt bad for the guy, and you hesitated before asking blade if he could spot for you

-and just like that, the ice was officially broken

-the two of you talked more frequently now, even becoming sort of friends through your shared class and the gym

-more frequent talks gave way to the more intimate aspects of blade's personality- as it turned out, he was quite touchy

-lingering touches when spotting you in the gym turned to his leg pressed against yours when you sit next to each other- leaning into your personal space a little too close to call it casual, and the bastard enjoyed the way you got flustered when his face got near to yours and the way that people looked at the pair of you and whispers, rumours, started to fly

-"if you keep sitting that close to me, people are going to think that we're dating," you huffed at him

-blade didn't even glance up from his phone that he was scrolling through with one hand, the other resting against the back of your chair

-"good." you were glad that he didn't look up to see the way that your eyes widened and you turned your head to the side to hide the giddy smile that was creeping onto your face

-and despite you enabling this, all the harmless flirting, there was some unquellable part of you that screamed to be set free and hoped for something more. that when he made you look him in the eyes with a finger under your chin, he wasn't just doing it to tease you

-there was undeniably something going on between the two of you, but there was also the unspoken mutual decision to not mention it

-and so you resigned your self to the realm of just friends. it would be easier this way, to move on without any ties before uni

-yet on the last day, you found him scrawling his phone number in your yearbook with a demand to stay in touch, and it left you looking down at the inked digits with the thing in your chest set free, telling you that your feelings might just be reciprocated

𓆩♡𓆪 SAMPO

-your deskmate in chemistry because of a stupid seating plan that didn't change the entire year

-you've never really spoken before, but he's well-known for being rowdy

-his friends sit nearby, and most of his conversations consisted of talking to them loudly while leaning across your desk, while you try to balance your chemical equations

-other than that, you keep to yourselves mostly

-it isn't until your chemistry teacher is going on a tiresome rant about the bohr effect that you shift your attention away from the board, your eyes instead focusing on sampo and the pen in his hands as he twirled it through his fingers effortlessly

-you nudged him slightly, pointing to his hand and mouthing at him "how do you do that?"

-sampo smirks, leaning in closer to you and keeping his voice at a low whisper to avoid alerting your chemistry teacher

-"so you hold the end like this..." sampo whispers to you, demonstrating with the end of his pen. you nod and try not to think about how small the pen looks compared to his fingers, fixing your grip

-"and then you hold it loose, and flick it around your thumb" sampo demonstrates it effortlessly, catching the pen in his hand and smiling at you

-you concentrate on your own, feeling his gaze against the side of your face instilling slight tremors in your hand

-you attempt the spin, watching as the pen teeters before falling and landing on your desk with a clatter

-you hear sampo snort beside you, and your teacher whips his head around and fixes the pair of you with a glare

-"am i interrupting something?" you and sampo both snapped your attention back towards your teacher as he looked at you both pointedly before continuing with his lecture

-you braved a peek at your deskmate, seeing the way his eyes were stubbornly facing forwards while a slight smirk adorned his face

-it became almost a ritual for you to attempt sampo's stupid pen trick each lesson

-it looked so simple, you didn't get how you were still struggling to do it, and your focus was pretty much anywhere except on the lesson

-sampo watched on in idle amusement at your frustration, sometimes demonstrating it to you again just to rub it in before getting elbowed by you

-besides him poking fun at you, there was also a sweeter side to sampo

-there was a day where you had forgotten to wear your contacts, and were effectively blind the entire day

-despite being nearer to the front, you couldn't even read the board when you squinted

-you ended up asking sampo to read what was on the board to you, and with an exaggerated sigh he did so, whispering the words to you in the same low voice that had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up

-"you owe me, you know," he told you jokingly, pointing at your homework

-you rolled your eyes, sliding it over to him

-"i don't know why you think that the answers will be right, but sure"

-"hey, at least you did the homework"

-uhhhh idrk how to end this SORRY

-you guys got along well and then the year finished and you weren't in the same class any more

-whenever you see him in the corridors you smile at each other though

𓆩♡𓆪 GEPARD

-he sits in the seat opposite from you in your english class

-you can't help zoning out when the lesson gets boring, and more often than not that results in you inadvertedly staring at gepard until you snap back to reality and realise that you've locked eyes with him, resulting in both of you hastily looking away with pink dusting both of your cheeks

-it's hard not to look at his handsome face, and your wandering eyes often get drawn to him against your will

-the sun hits his hair just right from the window behind him, and he looks like an angel with a halo when he's concentrating with a furrowed brow and taking notes about chaucer

-he's not too bad of a person to be sat across, in short

-you see gepard from time to time in the library, and by luck's draw, one of the only free seats in a particularly busy hour ends up being next to him

-he glances up when you place your books down, shooting you a quick smile before turning back to his own work

-you're about to put on your headphones and start revising, but you catch the faint melody of an ice spice song blasting from gepard, oblivious to the world

-it takes a lot of self control to not burst out laughing in the middle of the library, but you text this information to your friend instead while biting back a smile

-she responds after a few seconds with a link to gepard's spotify account, telling you to take a look through his playlists

-risking a glance at gepard, still heavily focusing on his work, you click on the link and begin to scroll through his account

-you find yourself growing more and more blown away by his music choice

-someone who was so serious and stoic didn't seem like the type to have one of the most insane tastes in music you've ever seen, but you liked it

-it offered you a more human side to his aloof self

-when you saw him start to subconsciously mouth the words in time with ice spice, though, that's when you snorted a little

-and when gepard looked up at you in confusion, you waved him off

-maybe you would try talk to him after class more

𓆩♡𓆪 DAN HENG

-although he doesn't share a lesson with you, dan heng actually takes the same bus to get home from school

-you have a tendency to oversleep in the mornings, so you've never had the opportunity to realise this as the buses you take arrive at school minutes before the bell

-and after school, you can leave as soon as lessons finish, and your differing timetables kept you apart as well

-but after a day at the library in school, you ended up getting a bus nearer to the end of the day rather than your usual time

-because of this, you found that most of the other students at your school were getting this first bus back, and a lot less of the seats were available

-you scanned the seats, searching for an empty spot when you got on, and you saw dan heng sat on his own, looking out the window with his earphones in

-you recognised him as a guy in your year and headed to where he sat, gripping your bag tighter for emotional support

-"could i sit here?" you spoke before realising that he probably couldn't hear you over the sound of his music, and you hesitated before tapping him on the shoulder

-his attention snapped to you before he shuffled slightly, leaving you with ample space to take a seat

-you didn't talk much, feeling self conscious of your feed as you scrolled through your phone next to dan heng, waiting for the stop where you would get your second bus

-you were lucky that you were sat closer to the aisle, and didn't have to make things more awkward by asking him to get up too

-you pressed the button to stop the bus, picking up your bag and getting off

-but to your surprise, as you looked behind you to check if it was clear to cross the road, you saw that dan heng had gotten off of the bus as well

-which wasn't too weird, really. there were plenty of other buses to take from here

-yet your suspicions were confirmed as you realised that you and dan heng were headed for the same bus, stopping in the same queue with him just behind you

-normally you would keep to yourself, but you must have been feeling extra talkative that day because you decide to strike up a conversation with him

-"so you take this bus as well?"

-dan heng nodded, taking out an earphone to better hear you as you both waited for the bus

-"yeah, in the morning too"

-"i'm guessing the early one? i always miss it because i sleep in"

-dan heng smiles and shrugs

-"maybe you should go to sleep earlier, then"

-"yeah, maybe"

-the pair of you talk a bit, and despite his appearance dan heng is actually quite fun to talk to, though he moreso tends to listen to you rant and occasionally provides some input, which seems to suit you both just fine

-come next morning, you found yourself waking up a little easier than usual, getting ready and leaving your house earlier than usual

-and as a result, you managed to catch the early bus

-you spotted his cropped dark hair almost as soon as you got on, and decided to sidle up to him again

-dan heng spotted you this time, though, and even offered you a smile as he pulled put his earphones as youvsat down next to him

-"so i'm guessing that you slept earlier, huh?"

-if it meant getting to talk to him more, you'd be in bed before it even got dark

-but he didn't have to know that

𓆩♡𓆪 JING YUAN

-he's that one guy in the year who's just universally loved, by teachers and students alike

-he's warm, he's studious, he's head boy, and he's practically everyone's friend

-it's not uncommon to see plenty of the girls in your year go up to him to try and flirt, and for others to look on in jealousy at their attempts

-and despite everyone's best efforts, jing yuan remained single

-as much as you didn't want to, you couldn't help but get a crush on him, just like every other girl in the year

-your heart beats out of your chest when you walk past him in the corridor and he gives you a smile and nod

-your knees feel weak when you see him in the library studying, his handsome face scrunched in concentration

-and though you may only be observing from afar, you're completely content with that

𓆩♡𓆪 LUOCHA

-luocha is a friend of yours that you made pretty recently

-there's a quiet charm to him that leaves you feeling at ease, and you've found it incredibly comforting to be in his presence when revising for exams

-even though he's a man of few words, he's managed to keep you as grounded as you can be during the stress of your last days of school before it's over

-it all came to an emotional headway at prom night

-you had been drinking a little, and with the night coming to an end the realisation that you wouldn't be seeing most of the people here again had you feeling teary eyed

-luocha found you on the dancefloor, pulling you towards him without a word and letting you just cling onto his suit as you both swayed in time to the slower song

-you let the soothing scent of him wash over you as you started to wind down at the end of the night, and you felt one of his gentle hands resting on your back as you began to wind your arms around his neck too

-"it was nice to know you," you mumbled to him, voice muffled by the material of his suit

-you felt luocha's grip on you tighten almost imperceptibly, a sign that he had heard you regardless

-"you can still know me" he murmured, and in your hazy state of mind you relaxed into him even further

-"that would be nice"

-as prom came to an end and after you had gotten over the air of finality, the pain from wearing your heels all night was beginning to kick in

-your car was parked a while away and while you did want to just go home, the prospect of taking another step was making you wince

-luocha was quick to notice your hesitance, and before you even said anything he was crouching down in front of you, telling you to "get on" which you gratefully did

-his warm hands wrapped securely around your thighs, supporting your weight as you told luocha where to go

-he made it to your car effortlessly, letting you down carefully and even opening your own car door for you

-you giggled at him being a gentleman as you got behind the wheel, smiling up at him with a bittersweet pang in your heart

-"thanks for everything, luocha"

-the man hesitated for a second, before returning your smile

-"any time"

-he ducked down, leaning in closer to you, and you felt yourself inhale sharply as he wrapped his arms around you, encasing you in a last embrace before you would part ways for the last time

-"keep in touch, okay?"

-"okay"

୨♡୧ honkai star rail masterlist

3K notes · View notes

novascharms · 16 days ago

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teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

word count — 4.3 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist

a.n — AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

eleven

sunday, february 9th

you'd read and re-read the stoichiometry chapter in your chemistry book so many times the words had started to blur together. no matter how hard you tried to concentrate, the first sentence refused to stick, so you read it again. and again. the mole-to-mole relationships in chemical equations couldn’t do what you so desperately wanted them to: distract you from your laptop sitting smugly on the corner of your desk, mocking you with its silence.

you glanced at the screen for the hundredth time.

still no response.

your chest tightened, frustration bubbling under your skin. you'd never wanted to scratch your own eyes out more than you did right now. your gaze shifted to the blue pen rafe had given you, lying idle next to your notebook. he’d handed it to you after you’d casually mentioned trying to stop chewing on pens. it was one of those novelty pens with a fluffy pom-pom at the end—a ridiculous detail, but it worked. you hadn’t bitten a pen in days.

you sighed, pressing your forehead to the cool surface of your desk. the frustration and restlessness were unbearable. "just get it together. focus. focus, y/n," you whispered, willing yourself to snap out of it.

"what are you doing?"

the sudden voice made your heart leap into your throat. you jolted upright, instinctively grabbing the first thing within reach—a pack of sticky notes—and hurling it toward the intruder.

your sister's stupidly athletic self ducked effortlessly, a bemused look on her face as the sticky notes fluttered harmlessly to the floor. "don't scare me like that," you scolded, your voice stern, though your pulse was still racing.

"relax," she said, rolling her eyes. "mom said you need to help her and rafe unload the groceries."

you froze. rafe? you blinked, sure you’d misheard. "wait, what did you just say?"

but she was already turning away, her athletic frame disappearing down the hall before you could get any clarification.

you shot out of your chair, heart thudding as you hurried after her. she darted down the stairs and into her room, slamming the door behind her, leaving you to descend the stairs alone. with each step, the sound of laughter drifted closer, unmistakably rafe’s—deep, warm, and contagious.

your stomach twisted. your nerves were already frayed, and now they were shot through with the sharp edge of memory. friday’s argument lingered, unresolved and heavy. you’d both walked out of that classroom unsatisfied—him with no answers about what happened at the bonfire, and you still clueless about the black eye he refused to explain. his silence afterward, ignoring your text all day, had only solidified your belief that he was done talking to you.

and yet… here he was.

you stopped in the hallway, your breath catching as you caught sight of him. standing in the kitchen with your mom, rafe moved around like he belonged there, putting dishes away with an ease that almost felt intentional.

your eyes locked on him as he reached for the cabinet, your favorite mug in his hand. something about seeing it there, his long fingers gripping the familiar ceramic, made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t explain.

you lingered, frozen in place, unsure of whether to walk in or turn back. the kitchen was only a few steps away, but it suddenly felt like miles.

"ah, there you are, sweetie! look who i ran into at the farmer's market!" your mom's voice carried a cheerful lilt as she gestured toward rafe, her grin wide. he turned at the mention of you, his movements calm, but his eyes sharp as they settled on your face. "i came on foot, and he was kind enough to offer me a ride," she continued, her voice full of appreciation that almost made you laugh. for someone you'd barely been able to figure out, it seemed rafe had won your mom over in no time.

he closed the cabinet with a soft thud, his gaze falling on you again, drifting down your frame. you caught the flicker of amusement in his expression as his eyes lingered on your legs, bare except for the well-worn university hoodie your dad had given you and a pair of shorts. his scrutiny was quiet but obvious, and it made your skin prickle, though you couldn’t quite decide if it was irritation or something else entirely.

and there it was—the reason you couldn't get past the bonfire, the reason even standing in the same room as him sometimes felt unbearable. it wasn’t just the way he looked at you, though that was part of it, his blue eyes holding something electric, like you were the only girl in the world. it wasn’t just the way his attention made your heart stutter, like you were under a spell you couldn’t shake. it was the way your mind twisted it all, painting vivid, cruel images of him looking at someone else like this.

looking at any girl like this. every girl. seeing his gaze soften like it did for you, feeling that same magnetic pull that left you breathless, making her feel exactly the way he made you feel. it made you want to throw up.

"how friendly," you muttered under your breath, stepping into the kitchen to busy yourself. your eyes skimmed over the contents of your mom’s shopping bags, your attempt to distract yourself entirely unconvincing.

"are you okay? you’re a little sweaty," your mom asked, her hand brushing your forehead with gentle concern.

"just my period," you replied softly, leaning into the touch as she pulled you into a warm embrace.

her arms wrapped around you, and you rested your head against her shoulder, but your eyes found rafe’s again. he hadn’t looked away, his gaze steady, unreadable.

"i’ll make you a cup of tea, yeah?" your mom offered, her voice soft in your ear.

"mhm, thanks, mom," you murmured.

"do you need a heat pad?" she added.

"already got one," you replied with a faint smile, trying to shake the weight of the moment.

she pulled back, her hand brushing over your arm before glancing toward rafe. "be sure to send rafe down if it cools so i can reheat the water, okay? you’ll do that for her, right?"

rafe didn’t miss a beat, his voice low but certain. "and more."

you felt your pulse stutter, but you didn’t dare let yourself read into it. not now. not again.

it’s only when you’re right in front of the stairs that you stop and turn to him. “you didn’t get my message?”

“i did get your message.” he says it like it’s a minor detail that doesn’t change anything.

“and you’re here.” you state and move up one step because you don’t like that he’s taller than you right now.

he raises his brows, looking up at you, “you’ve never dictated my whereabouts before..”

you cross your arms, “i thought you were mad at me.”

“i think you might be my hill.”

his hill?

“my hill to die on.” he clarifies and you’re quiet for a moment and then another because why why why would he say something like that?

your heart sort of feels like it’s being squeezed.

you don’t say another word as you climb the stairs together, you don’t say a word when you sit at your desk, your chemistry notes waiting, unread and you don’t say a word when he sits on your bed, facing you.

"not gonna talk to me?" he asks, his voice low and even, but you keep your eyes on the notes in front of you, pretending with all the strength you can muster that he isn’t sitting there, watching your every move.

"why’d you even let me into your room if you weren’t going to talk to me?" he asks again, the hint of a smirk in his tone that grates on you.

you roll your eyes, the response instinctual. he was six feet tall—what were you supposed to do? block the door? he wouldn’t have listened even if you’d told him to leave, and you both knew it.

"okay," he says suddenly, standing and crossing the room toward you. he crouches down beside you, his movements deliberate, his presence impossible to ignore now. "you’re still mad i didn’t tell you what happened friday, and i’m mad you won’t tell me what happened at the bonfire. it cancels out. we should just not be mad anymore," he says, as if it’s the simplest solution in the world.

you finally turn to look at him, and he’s close—too close. your eyes drop to the bruise beneath his eye, still swollen and tender-looking, as raw as it had been on friday. your frown deepens, and before you realize it, your hand lifts, fingers reaching toward the edge of the discoloration. but you stop short, your fingertips hovering before dropping back into your lap. you turn away again, determined not to give in to the pull of him.

you try to focus on your notes, the words swimming on the page. then, without warning, he grabs your book and tosses it onto your bed.

you don’t react, not really. instead, you reach for your laptop and pull up the pdf version, scrolling without looking at him.

"are you fuck—" he starts, catching himself when your glare sharpens on him, "—freaking serious?"

you turn back to your screen, your silence louder than any retort.

he closes your laptop with a single motion, holding it down when you try to open it again. your frustration boils over, and you stand, but he pushes you back into the chair, his movements unrelenting.

"you know you’re being a brat, right?" he says, his tone somewhere between amusement and exasperation. you cross your arms, staring straight ahead, refusing to engage.

with a scoff, he turns your chair so you’re facing him. your head swivels away, determined not to meet his gaze.

"i can’t believe this," he mutters, the disbelief laced with dry humor.

he could scoff and huff and puff all he wanted. you weren’t going to say a single word until he told you what happened friday. it didn’t matter if he thought you were being a brat, or if it wasn’t fair to withhold your own truth about the bonfire while expecting him to spill his.

the bonfire was different—separate. telling rafe what you saw would mean telling him why you reacted the way you did, and what was the point of all that when you were determined to weed out these feelings anyway?

because they would pass. they had to pass.

you’d read countless articles that said as much—this infatuation, this pull, was temporary. fleeting. give it ten, maybe fifteen business days, and you’d be fine. you’d be back to normal. telling him would only ruin something that didn’t need to be ruined, would risk losing him prematurely for something that wasn’t permanent.

"jesus christ, fine," he sighed, the frustration thick in his voice as he leaned back and sank onto your bed. he patted the spot next to him, his hand heavy on the comforter. "come here," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

you hesitated for just a moment before obeying, standing and crossing the small space between you. settling onto the bed beside him, your leg brushed against his, the proximity setting your nerves on edge.

"i’ve been… i’ve been in a shit mood all week, you know?" he began, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. he exhaled heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "and i guess i’ve been kind of a buzzkill. just… i’ve had a lot on my mind. about sarah, about soccer, my dad… and about you."

your breath caught at his admission, your fingers curling into the fabric of your shorts.

"it’s not like i can’t talk about it with my friends," he continued, his words slower now, more deliberate. "it’s just… i don’t have my thoughts straight yet. haven’t even worked through it myself, you know? but topper…" rafe broke off with a frustrated sigh, his jaw tightening. you could practically see the scene playing out in his head. "topper doesn’t like it when i don’t talk about shit. he’s always on edge, scared i’ll slip into… old habits if i don’t deal with my crap. so, he pushes. and pushes. and i was already pissed off, already had too much to drink, and he kept getting in my face, asking me what my problem was."

rafe’s hands flexed, his fingers pressing into his thighs like he was trying to contain the memory. "so i tell him to fu—to piss off," he corrected himself, glancing at you briefly. "but he just kept going, and i was done. i was ready to walk away, ready to just leave. and then…" his voice faltered, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you.

you frowned, leaning closer without even realizing it. "and then what?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

he turned to look at you, and the guilt in his eyes made your stomach twist.

"rafe," you pressed, your heart pounding. "what did he say? was it about me?"

he looked away, his hand dragging across his face like he could erase the tension in his features. "the details don’t really matter," he said, his voice low and evasive.

"no," you said sharply, shaking your head. "no. i want to know. tell me."

"it’s stupid," he muttered, his tone filled with reluctant anger. "he’s stupid—"

"you got into a physical fight over it. it can’t be that stupid," you argued, your gaze fixed on his.

rafe hesitated, his lips pressing into a tight line, as if debating whether to tell you.

"rafe,"

he exhaled sharply, his shoulders tense. "he said…" rafe hesitated again, his voice quieter now, tinged with anger and something softer—regret, maybe. "he said i should cut off ‘that goody-goody, prissy bitch’ because i was in a way better mood before i met you."

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. your shoulders sagged, and your gaze dropped to the floor. you took a shallow breath, exhaling slowly as the weight of his admission settled over you.

"and then?" you asked quietly, your voice steady but barely audible.

"y/n—" he started, but you cut him off, your head snapping up to meet his eyes.

"and then?"

rafe sighed, running his hand through his hair again, the strands sticking up messily. "i told him to come again. i don’t even remember what he said next, honestly. all i caught was sarah’s name and something muffled before i… slammed him into a wall and kneed him in the face. he got one punch in, but i fractured his nose and he looks like shit, so… i’m pretty pleased with that part."

a dry, humorless laugh escaped him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to smile. his words lingered in your head, sharper than the bruise on his face, harder to ignore than the ache settling in your chest.

"i'm sorry..that this all happened." you said and he shook his head, "it's not your fault. don't apologise." it felt a little your fault. or maybe a lot. you can imagine that if you never tutored rafe in the first place, this wouldn't have happened.

your gaze stayed fixed on the floor, avoiding his entirely, but rafe wasn’t having it. he leaned forward, lowering his head until his eyes found yours. "topper’s an asshole," he said bluntly. "and honestly, i’m probably gonna kick his ass again the next time i see him."

a small, unwilling smile tugged at your lips. "don’t do that," you whispered, the diplomat in you rising instinctively.

"no?" he asked, grinning in a way that made your heart flutter and your stomach flip. "don’t think he deserves a matching one?" he gestured toward his own black eye, the faint shadow of a bruise still etched into his face.

the truth was, topper probably did deserve it. but you bit your lip, shaking your head anyway, even as you silently agreed.

"he’s not wrong, though," you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

rafe rolled his eyes with a sharp exhale. "fuck him and fuck whatever he has to say about you. he doesn’t know a thing about you."

you nodded slowly, your heart both heavy and a little lighter at the same time. "hmm… doesn’t change that i’m pretty prissy. and, you know, a serious goody-goody," you said with a wry smile. "maybe not the bitch part though."

rafe pulled a face, a mix of disbelief and irritation. "just because you’re not downing a beer crate every weekend or hooking up with half the town doesn’t make you prissy—or a goody-goody. topper’s just being a dickhead, and he knows it."

his words made you freeze. your breath hitched, your body tensing almost imperceptibly, but not enough to escape his notice.

rafe’s brows lifted, his tone shifting as a teasing grin spread across his face. "unless…" he started, leaning closer, his voice playful. "you are secretly an alcoholic?"

you let out a small, breathy laugh despite yourself, shaking your head and turning away. you didn’t want to have this conversation—not anymore.

"then…" he pressed, undeterred. "some boyfriend? or… boyfriends? that i should know about? or girlfriend?"

your pulse quickened, and you bolted upright, crossing the room in a hurry. you stopped at your bookshelf, your fingers brushing over the spines of the books as though you were searching for something specific. "um, no," you muttered, your voice clipped and quiet.

behind you, his voice came, laced with that maddening curiosity. "how long has it been?"

you froze, turning your head just enough to glance at him, wary. "how long has what been?"

his knowing smirk deepened, and the glint in his eye told you he already knew the answer—or thought he did. "how long has it been since you’ve gone fourth base, teach?"

your brow furrowed, and you blinked at him, the term pulling at a distant, foggy memory from freshman-year sex ed. "fourth base?" you repeated in a whisper, trying to piece it together.

he stopped moving, his gaze locking on yours with a mixture of disbelief and something softer—was it pity? "wait," he said, the realization dawning on him. "you’ve never…" his voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging thick in the air.

your cheeks burned hotter, and you blinked rapidly, refusing to answer until you were absolutely sure of what he meant. "is that…hands stuff?" you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

his jaw slackened, and his shock only deepened. "you’ve never had se—"

"shut up!" you snapped, spinning away from him so he couldn’t see your mortified expression. "i’ll have you know that it is completely normal!"

"okay, yes, but…" his tone shifted, almost as if he were genuinely concerned now, which only made it worse. "you’ve done, like, third-base stuff, right?"

the way he threw these terms around so casually grated on your nerves, especially since you had no idea what half of them meant. you glared at him, crossing your arms defensively. "enough with the baseball analogies! speak english!"

he chuckled softly, and the sound only added to your irritation. "okay, fine. have you done… you know, under-the-clothes stuff?" he clarified, his voice gentler now, but it didn’t soften the blow.

your silence stretched too long, and you saw the understanding flicker in his eyes before he even whispered, "shit…"

he hesitated, then asked, almost cautiously, "have you even had your first kiss?"

you turned sharply, glaring daggers at him. "of course," you snapped, though your voice lacked conviction. "i’ve kissed… two guys." the last part came out so softly it barely registered, even to you.

"repeat that?" he asked, leaning forward like he didn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. his eyes were wide, filled with something you couldn’t name—disbelief? Amusement?

"two guys," you hissed, louder this time, but it still didn’t sound like much.

"oh my god," he said slowly, nodding as though he were processing groundbreaking information. "so… two boyfriends?"

you shook your head quickly. "one boyfriend. the other was…" you hesitated, cringing inwardly. "seven minutes in heaven."

that did it. rafe’s quiet laughter bubbled up, low and persistent as he shook his head. "seven minutes in heaven?" he echoed, his grin widening.

"stop!" you demanded, but he was already smiling too broadly to take you seriously.

"who were the guys?" he asked, and you stared at him, debating whether or not to answer. finally, with a shrug, you muttered, "danny watson."

that made him stand up, his eyes wide with exaggerated disbelief. "danny watson?" he repeated, his tone bordering on incredulous. "the one who’s always wearing a fanny pack?"

"he’s really nice!" you argued, crossing your arms tighter over your chest. "and smart! and—whatever, i don’t have to explain myself! i also dated jeremy dunn in freshman year. very, very briefly."

"so, basically…" he said, grinning like he’d cracked the case, "you’ve never been kissed."

"yes, i have!" you shot back, standing taller as though it might add weight to your words. "maybe they weren’t the perfect, romcom kisses, but they were real kisses."

he raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. your defensiveness only made it worse, but you couldn’t help yourself. the way he was looking at you, like you were some sort of anomaly, made you want to claw back every ounce of dignity you had left.

how many girls had he kissed? the thought burned in your chest. if cora was right and he got with a different girl every day, that had to be at least seven hundred girls in the past three years. you even gave him the benefit of the doubt and limited it to weekdays. still, the sheer number made you dizzy.

and here he was, standing in your room, acting like your two measly kisses were some kind of tragedy.

"they weren’t real kisses," he said, his voice low and certain. "you wouldn’t be talking about them like this if they made you feel even a sliver of what a real kiss should feel like." god, here comes the kissing connoisseur.

"okay, enlighten me," you said, exhaling a sigh and trying to sound disinterested, even though your pulse had quickened, and your curiosity was clawing at you.

he shifted, leaning casually against your desk, his arms crossed as he faced you. "unless your first is with someone you really like, it’s gonna be shit. and even if it is with someone you really like, if you’re both bumbling idiots—and let’s be honest, you probably are—it’ll still feel like shit."

your mind flickered back to those two kisses. they hadn’t been bad. they were just…kisses. no fireworks, no earth-shattering revelations. kind of like when your grandma kissed your cheek—sweet, familiar, forgettable. that wasn’t bad, right? you loved your grandma.

"but once you’re older, and you’ve got your eye on someone?" his voice softened, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. "imagine you’re at a party. you’ve been watching each other all night, and you just keep moving closer, little by little. it’s not even intentional—it’s like there’s this magnetic pull between you, like the universe is plotting to pull you together."

you were holding your breath now, your eyes fixed on him. on his lips. on the way his hands gestured subtly, like he was weaving a spell with his words. without realizing it, you leaned forward slightly, the space between you shrinking inch by inch.

"then, you’re face to face," he continued, his voice almost a whisper now. "there’s this quiet kind of flirting, just between the two of you. your breaths mingle, and then…hands start to move—into their hair, onto their waist, wherever. suddenly, you can’t tell where you end and they begin. it’s like you just…become one."

his eyes locked on yours, and you swore you forgot how to breathe. his legs shifted, spreading slightly, and it felt like an unspoken invitation to step closer. your teeth caught your bottom lip as you fought the overwhelming urge to close the distance. but it wasn’t working—you kept inching forward, drawn to him like gravity.

"it feels like electricity," he murmured, his voice thick with intensity. "your whole body is buzzing, like you might actually catch fire the second your lips touch."

his hand reached out, catching the hem of your sweater and tugging gently, pulling you into his space. your breath hitched audibly, and your nose brushed his as your bodies hovered just short of touching.

"and then you finally kiss," he whispered, his hands ghosting over your waist, so light they barely registered. "and it’s like the rest of the world disappears. you forget where you are because nothing else matters. it’s just…you and them. that’s it. it should make your head spin, your knees weak, and leave you completely and utterly incapable of pulling away."

his lips brushed yours then, a fleeting, teasing touch that sent a jolt through your entire body. you froze, caught in the electric moment, and realized with startling clarity that if he pulled away now, it might actually kill you.

"if it didn’t feel like that," he whispered, his voice feather-soft and tantalizing, "then it wasn’t a real kiss."

and then he kissed you.

your mind screamed, finally, finally, finally, like you’d been waiting for this moment your entire life. his lips were soft but firm, demanding but gentle, everything you’d imagined and somehow so much more. a wave of heat spread through you, leaving your skin tingling, your head reeling. your hand trembled as it came up to his face, the other fisting in his shirt, desperate to pull him closer.

just as you started to lose yourself completely, he pushed you back suddenly. the abruptness sent you stumbling into your bed with a startled shriek.

the door swung open. "what was that shriek?" your mom’s voice came, cup of tea in hand as she stepped inside.

"she’s in pain," rafe interjected smoothly, stepping forward to take the tea from her before you could so much as catch your breath. "it’s really…getting to her."

you blinked rapidly, trying to reorient yourself as your mom frowned, concern etched across her face. "oh no, sweetheart. do you need stronger pills? i might have something downstairs."

"y-yeah," you stammered, your voice shaky. "that…that’d be great. yes."

your mom leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before straightening. "all right, then." her gaze flicked to rafe, her smile warm but pointed. "rafe, not that i don’t love having you here, but she should rest. i’ll send you home with some dessert."

you watched helplessly as she ushered him toward the door. rafe shot you one last look, a flicker of amusement and something else in his eyes, before she closed the door behind her.

a.n — honestly yn kinda getting on my nerves now….

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap.

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