#hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do! <:< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[plutotheplum]

I'm Your Man

caleb x fem!reader

summary: riling up your boyfriend is entirely too easy. when he finds out you have a tutor that happens to be a man... well, it's safe to say caleb hates that sort of thing.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, kissing, spanking, oral sex, vaginal fingering, p in v, praise kink, finger sucking, exhibitionism, jealous!caleb, established relationship, modern au

w/c: 5.8k

a/n: *caleb seeing reader near a guy* crashes out immediately - hope you all enjoy!! <3

also on ao3!

“Baby!”

You squeak when the door swings open, the man in front of you moving in a blur. There’s a pair of lips landing against your cheek in a quick kiss before he wraps his arms around you, lifting you up off of the ground, his faze nuzzling into your chest.

“C- Caleb,” you whine, squirming in his hold, trying to get him to set you back down, “put me down, you dork.”

“But I missed you,” Caleb grumbles back, rubbing his face all over your top like a cat, nuzzling into your chest. He finally grants your request once he’s satisfied, hands smoothing down over your sides once he sets you down onto your feet.

You smile when he cups your cheeks, humming happily when he begins to pepper soft kisses all over your face, his thumbs smoothing over your skin gently.

“I missed you too,” you say, arms wrapping around his neck to tug him down for a kiss, sighing softly against his mouth.

Caleb groans, his hands squeezing at your waist, kissing you back eagerly. You huff out a laugh when he gropes at your ass, rocking up onto your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“That’s it?” he protests when you pull away, pushing your hands away when you try to tug your duffle bag into his apartment.

“I literally just got here,” you muse, watching as he grabs your bag for you, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you silently appreciate the flex of your boyfriend’s biceps as he carries your duffle bag into his bedroom for you. 

You shut his front door, securing the lock, before trailing after him. Caleb is reaching for you the moment you step inside his bedroom, shoving his face into the crook of your neck and letting out a contented sigh.

“Missed you so much,” he sighs, voice muffled with the way he’s pressed his face against your neck, his nose digging into you, lips brushing over your skin. 

“Sometimes I wonder how you live without me,” you tease, hands stroking over his hair gently, scratching his scalp every now and then.

“I hardly get by,” Caleb complains aggrievedly, tugging you towards his bed. “I think I have withdrawals every time you leave.”

A laugh slips out of you at that, crawling up to snuggle into his arms, leaning back to rest your head on his shoulder. Caleb kisses your cheek, his chest warm and firm against your back as he hums in satisfaction. 

“I only have a year left before I graduate, then I can move in with you,” you remind him, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly as Caleb busies himself with trying to meld his body against yours.

“Feels like an eternity,” he mutters, huffing out a breath. Caleb props his chin on your shoulder, eyes trained on your phone as you watch some random video. “How are your classes anyways?”

“Not bad,” you say, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I was struggling in one of them, but I sorted that out.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, pecking your lips gently in return, “how’d you do that?”

“I got a tutor,” you shrug, glancing up at him before turning your attention back to your phone. “He’s pretty good.”

You can feel Caleb stiffening behind you, his fingers stopping their movements against your sides. Your brows furrow, tossing your phone somewhere in front of you before turning back to look at Caleb properly. There’s a tell-tale pout beginning to form on his lips; something you’ve gotten used to ever since you were children.

“What’s wrong?”

“He?” Caleb echoes, his eyes darkening, “your tutor’s a guy?”

“Well… yeah?” you reply like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “the dude is like super smart; top of the class and everything. I figured he’d be the best to teach me.” 

“I’m super smart,” Caleb shoots back, and you raise your brows when you see a frown coming across his face, his lips turning downwards. “And I was the top of all my classes. Definitely smarter than your little tutor. Drop him.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, turning around his arms until you settle on his lap, thighs straddling his hips.

“Yeah?” you smile, peering up at him, “you don’t even know the syllabus, Caleb.”

“I can learn it,” he protests stubbornly, “besides, I am smart. I’m a fighter pilot, baby.”

Your smile widens when you see Caleb’s chest puff out a little, his proud nature showing - not that you minded. Your fingers smooth up over the back of his shoulders, a soft sigh escaping Caleb when you play with the hair at the nape of his neck, his head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut.

“You can just say it,” you whisper teasingly, pressing yourself a little closer. “You’re jealous.”

“Jealous?” Caleb echoes, his lips pursing as he considers your words. “Maybe,” he shrugs, his eyes opening as he stares down at you, “or maybe…” he whispers, lowering his head to brush a kiss across your lips, “maybe I just want to keep my girl to myself.”

Your cheeks flush when he calls you his girl, heart fluttering in your chest. The words echo in your mind, brushing whatever thoughts were filling your mind away. He always knew how to disarm you, and you can never quite get used to Caleb’s possessiveness, his need to have his claim on you. It’s thrilling and nothing else has ever made you feel so wanted.

“Hm?” Caleb hums against your cheek, “my girl is all mine. Right, baby?”

Hands pawing at his firm chest, you nod, leaning into him as though in a daze. You lean up, making a small noise, trying to kiss him. Caleb clicks his tongue, his hand cupping your jaw, fingers squeezing gently on either side of your cheeks to bring you out of the slow, syrupy haze that was currently fogging your mind. 

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes- yes,” you say insistently, pouting before you pucker up your lips a little more, desperate for a kiss, “‘m all yours, Caleb.”

“Good girl.”

You preen at the praise, mewling softly when he kisses you. Caleb’s hands squeeze at your hips gently, trying to stop all of your squirming and jostling on top of his lap. A dissatisfied sound leaves you when he stops you from grinding across his lap, your eyes narrowing as you peer up at him.

“I thought you missed me, Caleb.”

He rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand that was currently sliding down his chest, his lips pressing against your palm when he manages to unfurl the fist you’d made with your fingers. 

“You’re so grabby,” Caleb mumbles against your palm, “‘m tryna take it slow, baby.”

“I don’t want slow,” you huff out, fisting his shirt and yanking him towards you. “I want you to fuck me.”

There’s a smirk on Caleb’s lips, his nose nudging against yours, fingers pressing into your back.

“Last time you cried when I-”

“Shut up!” you sputter, slapping your hand over his mouth, cheeks hot with embarrassment when you remember what had happened last time. Caleb’s hand wrapped around your throat, fingers relentless against your clit, cock pounding entirely too deep-  “That was- it was overwhelming!”

Caleb opens his mouth to respond, mischief glinting in his eyes, but your phone ruins the moment, ringing out. You groan, turning your back to him as you reach for your phone that you had tossed over to the foot of his bed.

“Who is it?” Caleb asks, his fingers wrapping around your ankles as you kick up your legs lazily.

“My tutor,” you reply, showing him your phone.

A smile spreads across your face when you see Caleb’s playful expression drop, replaced with something akin to annoyance.

“You know,” you continue, your voice dipping into a drawling taunt just to piss him off, “bet he’d fuck me if I asked him.”

“You little-” Caleb hisses, his voice rising as he tries to grab for your phone.

You pull it out of his reach, pressing a finger to your lips, making a hushing motion. Caleb’s expression grows darker the moment you swipe your finger across the screen to answer, his hands tightening their grip on your ankles.

“Hi,” you chirp sweetly, twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“Uh hey,” the man on the other end of the line replies, “are you free to talk?”

You hum, sneaking a glance towards Caleb who seems close to snapping, his glare venomous when he catches your eyes. Too easy, you think, biting your lip to stifle a laugh at his thinly veiled anger.

“Super free,” you say pointedly, “what did you want to talk abo- ow!”

A sharp yelp escapes you when Caleb’s hand comes down on your ass, the slap stinging. A strangled whine escapes you, your head whipping around to glare back at Caleb, feeling your eye twitch. Your boyfriend meets your eyes with a hard glare of his own, his fingers pushing up the hem of your skirt to examine the rapidly reddening skin of your ass.

“You okay?” your tutor asks, a tinge of concern in his voice.

“F- fine,” you manage out, “just- just um- stubbed my toe!”

“Right,” he murmurs, “hate when that happens.”

You nod along as though he can see you, trying to kick Caleb in the face as you roll over onto your back. The wind is knocked out of you when Caleb grabs you by the waist, manhandling you until you’re laying on your front again, his hands squeezing at your ass roughly, hand coming down again in a harsh smack.

“Ouch!”

“You uh- you stubbed your toe again?” your tutor asks tentatively.

“Mhm,” you say, voice slightly breathless with the restraint it was taking you not to cry out. “I’m- ‘m just really clumsy.”

Your fingers tremble as you manage to mute yourself on your phone, letting out a whimper when Caleb spanks you again and again, a hint of regret pooling inside of you at pushing your boyfriend this far.

“Unmute,” Caleb murmurs, gripping your hips to make you arch a bit, ass up in the air for him to spank again, your skin hot and prickly. His voice is a low snap when you don’t do as he says, your throat bobbing as you swallow harshly, Caleb’s tone growing firmer, no longer requesting but demanding. “C’mon baby, unmute the fucking phone.” 

You whine in protest, but do as he says, shakily unmuting yourself. You can hardly hear whatever your tutor was rambling on about, eyes blinking rapidly to try and concentrate. It’s all in vain however, when Caleb rains down another slap to your ass, your teeth sinking into your forearm to muffled a pained gasp.

“Bad fucking girl,” Caleb mutters lowly, “such a bratty, little slut.”

The itch to argue and bite back prickles across your skin, but Caleb’s hands are smoothing over you ass, and you wiggle your hips back to meet the soft pets he rewards your ass with; his fingers prodding and pushing your ass cheeks apart to take a glimpse of your panties.

“Anyways,” your tutor continues, “I was just calling because my schedule’s changed so I might not be able to tutor you during the time we agreed on.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, eyes widening as Caleb tugs at your panties, pulling them away from your skin before he lets go, the elastic snapping back against your skin. “That’s- that’s uh- too bad?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “do you mind if we settle on a different day?”

There’s an answer sitting on the tip of your tongue, but Caleb pulls at your ankle, managing to flip you over onto your back. He tightens his grip, your body sliding against the sheets as he tugs you towards him.

“N- no,” you hiss, forgetting about the man on the other end of the line, too preoccupied by trying to simultaneously yank your leg free whilst trying to kick Caleb’s face, “don’t you dare!”

Caleb only gives you a lazy grin, his hands managing to catch both your ankles and tug you further down the bed. 

“Don’t you dare?” your tutor echoes confusedly, and you squeeze your eyes shut, wincing at the misunderstanding.

You laugh, trying to cover up your flustered state, head dropping back against the sheets as Caleb smiles against the soles of your feet, peppering kisses all over the expanse of your feet.

“That’s not what I meant,” you grit out, shaking your head vehemently when Caleb smooths his hands over your thighs, pushing your skirt up to expose your panties.

You can feel your brain short-circuiting when your boyfriend settles between your thighs, his hands grasping at your thighs, squeezing at the fat before he turns his head, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

“So you’re okay with me rescheduling?”

“Y- yes!” you say, your voice pitching upwards awkwardly when Caleb rubs his fingers over your clothed cunt, his head dipping down to press kisses to your damp panties.

“Great,” he says, sounding a little chipper, “how does Friday sound? Maybe 10-12 in the morning?”

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out hazily, fingers brushing through Caleb’s hair as he pulls your panties down your legs, your half-lidded gaze not missing the way he slips them into the pocket of his sweats - another addition to his growing collection.

Perv.

You sigh, biting your lip as Caleb kisses your puffy folds, his tongue sliding through them after, your grip on your phone loosening as you squeeze your breast, squirming under Caleb’s ministrations.

He stares up at you, pulling back to lick his lips, strings of slick clinging to his lips and chin. You smile hazily and Caleb leans forward, stealing a quick kiss before burying his face back into your aching pussy. 

“Uh- does that sound good?” your tutor asks, his voice sounding a little unsure with all the sighing and soft noises you were let out.

“So good,” you murmur absentmindedly, thighs squeezing around Caleb’s head gently, enough to tease him a little.

Caleb gives you a pointed stare, his teeth sinking into your thigh before he smirks, nodding towards your phone.

You flush, embarrassment making your body go hot. “I- I mean y- yeah! That sounds perfect!”

“Okay, let me just write that down-”

You tug at Caleb’s hair, mouth dropping open when he latches onto your clit, sucking harshly. The sensations make your thighs twitch, toes curling as they press up against Caleb’s broad back, a soft mewl leaving you when you see the flex of his muscles through his shirt.

“Pretty pussy missed me,” Caleb whispers, his voice barely audible. He sighs contentedly when he thumbs apart your folds, the sheets rustling slightly as you watch him grind his hips into the bed, Caleb’s eyes not wavering from the clench of your pussy around nothing. “So wet, hm? Gonna ruin my sheets, baby.”

You whimper when he draws back, thighs twitching when he gathers a considerable amount of spit in his mouth, spitting down onto your clenching pussy. It’s filthy really, but Caleb is well-versed in your body; knows you well enough to know that you’ll go along with whatever he offers you.

Your fingers push at his head gently when he tries to kiss your clit, moving your hand down to spread your pussy for him instead, rubbing his spit into your cunt, mixing it with your slick. Caleb lets out a low groan at the sight, and you smile prettily, pressing your wet fingers against his mouth, smearing it over his lips.

His tongue lolls out soon after, licking his lips and you feed him your fingers, hips rolling up needily when he sucks on your fingers lazily. “Want you to cum for me on call,” Caleb slurs, licking between your fingers, grazing his teeth against the pads of them.

“What?” you hiss, brows raising incredulously. “I am not doing that.”

Caleb ignores you, busying himself with burying his face back into your cunt. You stifle a moan, biting down on your lip hard enough to remind yourself that you shouldn’t have been doing this; be on a call whilst your boyfriend was eating you out.

“I was thinking we could meet up at the library.”

Your tutor’s voice breaks through the haze and you grit your teeth, silently regretting the fact that you’d been the one to start this whole ordeal in the first place.

“The- ah- the library sounds good,” you mumble, eyes squeezing shut when Caleb begins to double his efforts, sucking and slurping, the sounds entirely too lewd and perhaps audible to the man on the phone. “

You press down on Caleb’s head, fingers tangling with his hair, back arching. Caleb’s smile is obvious, you can feel it against your cunt, his head tilting as he prods at your aching hole, beginning to fuck you with his tongue. A shudder racks through you, an impatient whine slipping out of you, desperate to orgasm.

“Be good, baby,” Caleb murmurs, replacing his tongue with his fingers, curling them up inside of you.

You try to stifle a moan and Caleb is feeling nice enough to help you, his free hand sliding up over your stomach, squeezing at your tits appreciatively before stuffing his fingers into your mouth to muffle your noises.

Legs jerking, you try to hold still, but when Caleb latches back onto your clit, your entire body quakes. It’s torture, the way Caleb knows how to play with you, his mouth smashing against your dripping pussy to suck more feverishly to drive you further towards the edge.

“The library it is then,” your tutor notes down. “Or you could always come over.”

Come over. Come. Cum. Cum?

A drunken giggle slips out of you, fingers running through Caleb’s soft hair as he flicks his tongue against your clit, stroking over it gently before his mouth suctions around the swollen bud, making your back arch. Yeah, you think hazily, you were going to cum. 

“Mhm,” you slur, “‘m definitely gonna be cumming.”

“You- you are?” he sounds a little surprised, “you know, I’ve never had someone so eager to learn. It’s actually kinda… refreshing, honestly so thank you.”

“You’re so welcome,” you mewl, hips rocking up against Caleb’s face, feeling the huff of laughter your boyfriend lets out against your pussy, his hand coming down to spread you apart for him again, his fingers thrusting in and out of you faster.

You bite down on your lip, body seizing up when Caleb crooks his fingers inside of you just right, the sensation of his tongue on your clit enough to have your back arching, toes digging into Caleb’s back as you cum.

Caleb groans, kissing your clit sloppily, his tongue sliding through your puffy folds to drink up every last drop of slick that he could find. He laps over your pussy, nuzzling into your thigh after as you shudder and shake, kissing your hip to help soothe you through the aftermath of your orgasm.

You’re too boneless to stop Caleb from reaching for your phone, eyes fluttering shut, unable to stop the syrupy atmosphere that had befallen you.

“Hung up for you,” he murmurs, putting your phone somewhere, his lips landing on your cheek for a sweet kiss.

“I didn’t get to say bye to him,” you mumble belatedly, arms wrapping around Caleb’s neck lazily.

Caleb clicks his tongue, sending you a half-hearted glare. “You don’t need to say bye to him, baby. Stop thinking about him. I just made you cum on my tongue.”

“But he’s just so helpful,” you sigh lazily, feeling Caleb’s fingers dig into your hips.

“For fuck’s sake,” Caleb mutters, rolling his eyes, “I’m helpful and I’m your fucking boyfriend.”

You smile up at him, tugging him down to kiss him. Caleb lets out a low noise against your lips, his hands squeezing at your waist, shuddering when you scratch his scalp.

“You don’t have to be so butthurt, baby,” you coo, sitting up, “I still love you.”

“Not enough apparently,” Caleb grouses, tugging his shirt up over his head.

You go hazy eyed at the sight, hand running up over your boyfriend’s defined abdomen, your fingers catching on his dog tags situated between his unfairly thick pecs. 

“Gonna fuck me now?” you ask him sweetly, tugging his sweats and boxers down to free his cock.

Caleb’s cock bobs free and you sigh dreamily at the sight, the head of it wet with thick globs of pre-cum; damning evidence of his arousal. Your hand wraps around his fat cock, the length hot and throbbing under your touch. 

It’s all too much for Caleb who lets out a shuddering noise, his head dropping forward, resting against your shoulder as you stroke his cock lazily, leaning forward to spit on it. Caleb whines and you take the opportunity to lean forward, mouthing at his pecs, pressing open-mouthed kisses across his heated skin.

“Fuck, baby,” Caleb sighs, hands coming up to cradle your head against his chest, his cock twitching in your hands when you reach down to squeeze at his balls, your teeth scraping across his sternum playfully. 

“Missed your cock,” you whisper, rising up onto your knees to kiss up his neck. “‘s just so big and thick,” you say appreciatively. 

“Do you even think about me?” Caleb protests, his head tipping to the side to bare more of his neck to you, “or do you just think about my fat fuckin’ cock?”

“It’s not a crime to think about it,” you huff out, angling your head to kiss the underside of his jaw. “I just really like it.”

“Brat,” he mutters, reaching down to grope your ass. “You sound like you have a crush on my cock.”

“You steal my panties!” you shoot back exasperatedly, glaring up at him before biting down on his shoulder in retaliation.

“Maybe I just really like the cute little designs,” Caleb drawls, yanking your head back using your hair before dipping his head to kiss you messily, his tongue invading your mouth, practically fucking you with it until there’s spit leaking from the sides of your mouths.

You moan, pawing at his broad shoulders, mewling happily when he manhandles you to his will, turning you over onto your front, his hands tugging your ass up into the air, making you arch for him.

“Good fucking girl,” he snarls, landing a spank to your ass. “Ask for my cock, sweetheart, c’mon.”

You whimper, face shoving into the sheets, grabbing at them to try and ground yourself. The sounds of Caleb stroking his cock making your pussy throb, hips wiggling back to try and make him push his cock inside.

“W- want it inside,” you demand, yelping when Caleb smacks your ass again.

“Think you can do better than that,” Caleb murmurs, his hand smoothing up over your back, his cock slapping against your aching cunt, before he presses the tip of it in before drawing it back out. “Hm? Wanna hear you all pretty, baby.”

“P- please?” you hiccup, feeling desperate tears prick at your lash line - a sign of your own desperation and need to have him close, no, in you. “C- can I p- please have your cock, Caleb? Please?” 

“You sound so sweet when you ask like that,” Caleb says dreamily, dipping his head to reward your cheek with a kiss. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

A shaky breath escapes you, your cheek squishing against the sheets, eyes slipping shut when he sinks his cock inside of you. You’ve slept with Caleb countless times, but you can never get quite used to the stretch of his cock and the way it manages to turn every rational thought in your mind to mush.

Caleb doesn’t seem to be faring better, letting out a guttural groan as he buries himself into the hilt. You can’t help but think he’s being a little louder than usual, but you’re not complaining.

“So tight,” he rasps hoarsely, fingers spreading apart your ass to watch his cock sink in and out of you, his eyes silently appreciating the way your cunt is stretched out around his cock. “Feels so good, baby.”

You mumble something back incoherently, content to let him have you like this, his hips smacking into your ass loudly with every thrust he delivers.

“Love you, Caleb,” you mewl when you feel him kiss up your back and over your shoulder, his face pressing into the crook of your neck, “love you much.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he soothes, drawing his hips back before driving them into you harder and faster, “so good to me, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” you nod, rising up onto your hands, turning your head to kiss him, “‘m your good girl.”

Caleb grunts, his arm wrapping around your waist. “You weren’t being good when you were talking to him.”

You pout, too horny to roll your eyes and tell him that he was being wildly immature and entirely too possessive for his own good. Instead, you squirm forward, Caleb’s cock slipping out of you despite his protests.

“Should I make it up to you?” you ask sweetly, voice lilting as you bat your lashes up at him.

“Make it up to me?” Caleb echoes, his breath hitching when you crawl towards him, hips swaying a little, your hands pushing at his shoulders to get him to lay down.

You hum in response, crawling up over him, settling on his lap. You smile when he groans loudly, your hips rolling as you grind your pussy over his hard, aching cock.

“Ride me,” he mutters dazedly, pre-cum coating his abdomen. “Sink down on my cock and ride me, baby.”

“I’m enjoying this though,” you say teasingly, hands planted firmly on his chest as you roll your hips again, moaning softly when his cock slides through your folds, the tip of it catching on your clit. “W- wait- Caleb!”

You squeak when he grabs for you roughly, picking you up easily, dropping you down onto his cock. A sharp cry escapes you, cunt clenching around him in a desperate attempt to get accustomed to his size.

“‘m gonna fuck the brattiness outta you,” Caleb murmurs, his lips slotting over yours to seal the promise. “And then-” he moans, his head tipping back slightly as he guides you to rock your hips, feeling your cunt around his throbbing cock, “and then, you’re gonna scream my name while you cum.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, gasping as he begins to bounce you on his cock, your ass smacking against his thighs. You don’t need much encouragement, not when Caleb’s mouth is sucking and biting at your neck, most likely leaving numerous hickeys in his wake. 

“Who's making you feel this good?” your boyfriend asks, “huh, baby?”

“Y- you are!” you squeal when he slaps your ass, hugging his head as he buries his face into your chest, his mouth sucking at your nipple before switching over to the other breast, biting a mark into the fat of it.

“That’s right,” Caleb growls, “I am, not anyone else. Just me and my cock, yeah?”

“Yes- yes! Oh fuck- hah- C- Caleb!”

He snarls, pulling you down, breasts squishing up against his chest. You squirm, hardly able to believe you’d manage to piss him off into such a state. Caleb wraps his arms around you, his knees bending as he plants his feet firmly against his bed, beginning to thrust up into you.

“S- so deep,” you hiccup, pressing sloppy kisses to his jaw, “you’re the best.”

Caleb groans, his heart fluttering at your words, a light flush covering his cheeks. Despite everything, your words still manage to fluster him, the softness of your lips on his cheek making his body throb with affection.

He manages to tilt his head, capturing your lips with his, uncaring that your kisses were slightly clumsy and uncoordinated with how fucked out you were. You whimper when he quickens his pace, cock pounding into you, his balls slapping against your ass.

“‘m gonna c- cum,” you whine, pussy clenching down around his cock desperately.

“Yeah?” Caleb rasps, kissing the corner of your mouth, “gonna cum on my cock, sweetheart?”

You nod rapidly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, letting out a contented coo. Caleb grunts out your name, his fingers reaching down to squeeze at your ass, fucking up into you over and over again until you squeal and scream, his name leaving your mouth in a slurred chant.

“C- Caleb! I- ah! I love you!”

“Cum,” Caleb snaps, burying himself into the hilt, his hand managing to find your clit. You whine when he rubs it, body shuddering on top of his as you cum, your nails digging into his broad shoulders. “There you go, baby.”

You let out a dazed sound when Caleb kisses you, lips pressing together sloppily, his cock twitching inside of you.

“Fuck,” Caleb mutters, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his thighs trembling slightly as his hot, thick cum floods your pussy. “So good to me, sweetheart.”

You flop down onto the bed, chest rising and falling as you pant raggedly, Caleb’s softening cock slipping out of you. His cum smears across your thigh when he moves towards you, his face pressing into your chest as he kisses your breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth playfully until you push at his head in protest.

“I should rile you up more,” you muse, fingers tracing over his lips gently, a triumphant smile on your face.

Caleb rolls his eyes, kissing the pads of your fingers. “Maybe you should,” he concedes finally, running a hand through his hair, looking a little weary, his cheeks flushed prettily. 

You cup his cheeks, pulling him closer to pepper kisses over his face, to his cheeks, forehead and brows, laughing when he returns your kisses and sucks the fat of your cheek into his mouth childishly.

“Y’all are freaks.”

The smile on your face fades, the color all but draining from your face when you hear a crackly voice coming from your phone. You glance towards Caleb, and the asshole in question looks entirely too smug and pleased, a lazy grin spread out across his face.

The cozy intimate atmosphere around you seems to fade, annoyance flitting across your face. You have half a mind to slap Caleb across the face, your jaw clenching as your teeth grit together, but the more pressing issue at hand wins out. You only need to sit up to spy the dangerous glint in your boyfriend’s eyes. The bed dips under both of you, sheets rumpling in a flurry as you both scramble towards your phone, trying to grab it first.

“I am so sorry-” you begin, shrieking when Caleb tugs your phone from your hand. You flail, trying to crawl up onto his lap, shoving at his shoulders in an attempt to snatch your phone back, desperate to save the last shreds of your now scarce and very much dwindling dignity.

“You could’ve hung up,” Caleb retorts bluntly into your phone, his thumb pushing into your mouth when you open your mouth to protest. “Now fuck off.”

You watch as Caleb disconnects the call, your eyes narrowing, not tempted to suck on his thumb like you might’ve been in any other situation. Instead, you bite down, satisfaction coursing through you when Caleb yelps, watching as his eyes squeezing shut in pain. You cling on stubbornly, glaring up at him when he tries to pull his thumb free, a wince leaving him as pain flares up through his thumb. You don’t let go until Caleb protests, his hand pushing at your forehead gently.

“So mean, sweetheart,” he complains, wrapping his arms around you, his face nuzzling into your chest, mouthing at the sides of your breasts lazily. 

You stare down at your boyfriend, the soft tufts of his brown hair now messy and sticking up into your face. You can feel your eye beginning to twitch, irritation prickling across your skin.

“What the fuck was that?” you snap, swatting the side of his head, “you said you hung up!”

“Must’ve forgotten,” Caleb mumbles, his expression feigning innocence as his eyes flick up to meet yours.

“Really?” you murmur, leaning forward, head tilting. “You forgot? Guess I’ll just forget to stay here tonight.”

You move to get off of his lap, but Caleb clicks his tongue, his arms tightening around you. You try again, but his hold is firm, preventing you from going anywhere other than staying in his lap.

“Thought you were my good girl,” Caleb sighs, dragging his lips across your jaw, trailing soft kisses over your skin. “I was only showing him who you really belonged to.”

“Belonged to?” you echo, hand cupping the back of his head to bare your neck to him when he kisses your neck. 

“Mhm,” he hums, lifting his head to peck your lips. You can’t help but lean into him, eyes fluttering as he brushes his thumbs over your cheeks gently, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“Funny,” you breathe out, showing him your hand, “I don’t see a ring on my hand.”

Caleb pauses, his eyes widening for a moment before a smile spreads across his face, his head dipping to give you another kiss.

“I can do that,” he whispers against your lips. “You want a ring, sweetheart? I’ll give you one.”

“That’s not what I-” you begin exasperatedly, squeaking when Caleb grabs your chin, his mouth slotting over yours to kiss you heatedly, stopping you from speaking.

“So?” Caleb asks eagerly, “what do you want? A diamond? Personally, I think-”

“I am not marrying you,” you interrupt, pressing your hands against his chest to push him back. You bite your lip, averting your gaze, feeling a little shy. “...At least not right now, so- so shut up.”

“I’ll marry you eventually,” Caleb murmurs, a smile spreading across his face, “been wanting to ever since we were kids.”

You groan, flopping away from him, burying your face into a pillow to hide your flustered expression.

“C’mere baby,” he coaxes, smiling against your cheek after he pulls you into his arms, letting you bury your face into his warm chest. “I love you.”

“You’re such a dick,” you mumble, peering up at him. You pout and Caleb grins, dropping a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you too, jerk.”

He runs his fingers through your hair, stroking gently as your eyes droop shut, lulled to sleep by the heat and comfort of his body, cocooned in Caleb’s affection - until he decides to ruin it with a thoughtful whisper that makes him sound entirely too pleased with what he’s managed to accomplish. 

“Guess you’re gonna have to send me the syllabus for that class after all.”

[sy7ygy]

Once I had a couple come into the store I worked at and when the girl wandered in after the guy, I could tell something was very clearly wrong with her. She looked like every step she took was painful and I just could tell it was either from withdrawal or a bad high (been around and heard about this stuff plenty my entire life, even dealing with abuse myself) and I just felt so bad for her. I didn't have much but I did have a little essential oil blend that can help with pain so I offered that to her after making sure she wasn't allergic to anything. She thanked me and sat in the corner until her man was done and then they left. I talked to my MANAGER shortly after and said "that poor girl was really going through it, I hope she feels better soon" and without missing a beat this woman says "yeah, but I know *why* she's in pain," and then rolled her fucking eyes. GOD I STILL GET HOT JUST TYPING IT OUT--it took so much control for me to calmly reply, "yes, but regardless if the reason, that is still someone's sister, babygirl, love of their life, daughter, you name it. That is someone's SOMEONE, having compassion is the least you can do, especially because no one is doing drugs because they are having a great time and enjoying life! Not the kind that causes this anyway. So be compassionate." She ended up agreeing and saying I was right and she should've thought about that but it just baffled me that I even had to.

You don't have to like weed but I find people who are vehemently anti-weed but claim to be left leaning infuriating. If you go into a rage because you smelled someone smoking pot, how the fuck do you expect to form community with people addicted to meth? It's easier to say you hate smokers than to say you hate all drug users in leftist spaces because one makes you sound a bit like a square while the other is the writing on the wall. You aren't anti-weed, you're anti-drug user and anyone who uses substances is not safe around you.

[eand47]

The 'Nice Lady'

ONE SHOT (REQUEST) - Portgas D Ace/Reader (female)

REQUEST: I am not sure if you take requests but if you do, can you do a small fluff of ace introducing y/n as his wife in alabasta to the strawhats!

WARNINGS: english is not my first language, explicit language, use of pet names, Ace is a little touchy but you don't mind, stealing, fighting marines

WORD COUNT: 3,7K

✰ masterlist ✰

NOTE: This request was so fun to write so I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did ♡ I know that it took me a month to post it and that is why the end is kind of rushed, for which I'm sorry, but I hope you guys understand that things take time and that writing is just a hobby for me ♡ Thank you for all the support ♡ Feel free to like, comment and reblog as it helps reaching more people ♡ Enjoy♡

Arabasta – the hottest island and country you have ever been on. Sand and endless kilometers of desert between each city are everywhere. Right now, you are in Alubarna, an ancient city and the capital of Arabasta. The city architecture is manly domed buildings and towers, with ruins from the past all over the outside parts of it, making it very exotic and attractive for people from other islands to visit and explore, though now it is mostly local people around as the country has suffered a big lack of water so the drought that has taken over the country is life treating, except for the capital.

Looking for an escape from the burning hot sun in the busy market streets in Alubarna, you have found yourself in a small clothes shop, trying on different and typical for the country dresses or two-piece sets. Taking look at the mirror and twisting your body left and right you will lie to yourself if you say that you haven’t fallen in love with the current two piece set you are wearing. It is a beautify long white skirt with golden belt on top of the waistline with small Caribbean blue stones attach to it. Your chest is covered by a white top – white see-through long sleaves and a bra part, covered in white and golden sequins with a beautiful crafted Caribbean blue stone in the middle of it, you have never felt prettier in a pair of clothes as you feel now. Looking at the mirror you feel like a princess of the desert.

“You are definitely coming home with me.” You murmur with a smile to yourself as you check yourself out one last time. “How much are you by the way?” Tapping with your hands trying to find the price tag your eyes widen once you have found it. “A thousand and five hundred berries! Are they crazy?” Shaking your head in disbelief you take the price tag in your hands and tear it away from the skirt. “Not like I was planning to pay for it anyway.” You whisper with a smile as you gather your own clothes in the small green zebra print bag you have carried with yourself. Stepping out of the changing room you look around carefully before going to the cash register.   

“Oh, I see you have liked the set, m’lady.” The middle-aged man, the owner of the shop you guess, says as he sees you approaching him.

“Yes, I did – in fact I plan to buy more, but you see...” Your gesture to him to get closer to you like you don’t want the rest of the customers to hear what you are about to say. “I’m very pretensions and I was wondering - do you by any chance have something that it hasn’t been displayed yet?” You flutter your lashes at him. “The price doesn’t matter.” You give a little wink as you see him falling for your little act.

The middle aged, slightly round and bald man’s eyes spark with happiness as he hears this – you are his favourite type of client. He tells you to give him a second and that he will be back in just a second and the moment he leaves the cash register you don’t waste any time and run out of the shop. After a moment you hear a scream, a yell, something among the lines “Catch the bugler!”, but it is too late now as you have already escaped and blend yourself with the crowd in the market.

Walking along the streets you start to look around for your husband. He has to be somewhere near by, you just hope he hasn’t wandered somewhere far away, as sometimes he has the habit to does so.

“Buy this apple and you will be able to live up to thousand years.” You hear a merchant offer his scammed goods to someone.

"Sorry, I'm not interested in living thousand years. I just need to live today." You hear the person responds, and a sly smirk appears on your lips. Fixing your posture and lifting your chin up a bit, you start walking around the market a bit more confident. It doesn’t take long before you hear a voice behind you. “Who in their right mind has let you wander around all by yourself?”

Biting on your inner cheek, trying to stop yourself from smiling, you answer. “My husband.”  

“Ah, what a fool is your husband. Letting a gem like you all alone.” The person walking behind dramatically says. “What if someone steals you?”

“I doubt someone would dare.” You shrug with one shoulder as you make a turn, walking into a small dead-end alley, away from preying eyes.

“Hm, how so?” The man behind you smirks as he has followed you and now stands even close to you.

“Because my husband always finds me.” You smile as you turn around to face the man standing behind you and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a burning, full of passion kiss.

“You look beautiful baby.” Ace says as he pulls away from you and checks you all without any remorse. “Damn, I really need to stop letting wander by yourself, because someone might steal you from me for real.” He pulls you close to him as he runs his hands around your bare waist, feeling your soft skin under his fingers.

“I can say the same for you Portgas.” You giggle as you place your fingers on his broad muscular chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingers. He is always so warm, even without the burning sun, Ace is like a walking one, but you don’t mind it, you never had and never will. After all you have gotten a personal heating blanket in the face of your husband for the rest of your life, how can you complain? “Are you hungry my love?”

“Always.” He slowly nods and licks his lower lip, not being able to tear his eyes from the curves of your body in this two-piece set. He usually can’t take his eyes of you no matter what you are wearing, or not wearing, but this piece of clothing is doing something to him.

“I meant food Ace.” You softly sigh as you place two fingers under his chin and lift it up so he can look at your eyes. “Eyes here boy. So, are you hungry?”

“Always.” He says as he pulls you close to him once again and kisses the top of your head before you get on your way to dish and dash somewhere.

You are both sitting at the bar in the first restaurant you have found. While Ace is already on his third plate you are still on your first, taking your time savouring the taste of the tipical local dish you have ordered for yourself, enjoying the new flavours that you are trying for a first time ever, while your husband just appreciates the fact that the food is good.

“Have you got any leads so far?” You ask your raven-haired husband.

“No.” He answers with frowned brows. “But I’m sure I have something on Lu-” Hearing a loud splash noise from the plate of your husband, you jump on the side as you don’t need to look to see that it is in fact him having a narcolepsy attack midway lunch.

“Thanks God, he didn’t eat something with sauce on it.” You breathe out relieved, after checking your outfit to see it has gotten a spot or something from the food. People in the restaurant gather around your worried, but you told them not to worry as you got this. Pulling Ace up, you clean his face with a napkin as this has become like a second nature to you now, as he slowly starts to wake up.

“Sorry, baby. Please don’t tell me I ruined your clothes.” He gives you an apologetic look as he checks you out to make sure he hasn’t splashed any food on you. You shake your head with a smile and before you get the chance to respond to him - he is gone. Your husband is literally gone, as he has been swept away with a force straight through some walls and now instead of him, a guy identically looking like your husband, stands next to you.

“Ha, now this is interesting turn of events.” You chuckle as you observe the boy with the straw hat standing next to you. “Running away from trouble Luffy?” You ask like you have known him for years, even though this is the first time ever you see your husband’s little brother, whom you only know from stories and his bounty poster.

“Yes, this annoying Smoker doesn’t leave me alone.” He answers to you without even questioning how you even know him or what is he running from. “Hey, are you eating all this by yourself?” He looks back and forth between you and the three extra plates left with food from your husband.

“Eat them if you are hungry.” You smile and hand one of the plates to the young reckless pirate and his eyes widen from happiness as he takes the plate and devours it in seconds. “You can take the rest as well.” You say standing up as you make your way to where your husband has been sent flying to make sure that he is okay, you know he is, but you are sure he would like to know that it was his little brother who caused all that.

“Thank you, nice lady.” Luffy screams after you with full mouth.

You just giggle as you make your way through the broken walls. “Damn, this was quite the impact.” Murmuring under your breath you finally reach your husband, who is getting up from the ground and doesn’t look very happy with what have happened. “Are you okay, Ace?” Your sweet voice catches up his attention and he just nod. Opening his mouth to say something he is getting interrupt by a yell from Smoker, who you haven’t even noticed until now, but he is long gone before any of you can react as he goes to chase after Luffy once again.

“Straw-hat?” Ace looks at you with excitement.

“Yes, I forgot to mention that the person behind this mess in no other than your little brother, so I think you might want to jump in the chase.” With a little twist of your body to the side you gesture to your husband to go run after his brother.

“You know where to meet me princess.” Ace says as he gives you a quick peck on the lips and runs after his brother.

“Huh? That’s weird. Why am I the only one here?” Luffy wonders as he finds himself in a dead alley sitting on a water barrel, with neither his crew nor brother around. Speaking of his brother, he still can’t believe he has reunited with him after not seeing each other for who knows how long. “Where did everyone go?”

“Sheesh! I guess my letting you escape was pretty pointless.” Luffy hears the too familiar voice sarcastically says somewhere close to him. Looking around and then finally up, Luffy sees his older brother standing there with a big smile.

“Yo, Ace!” Luffy jumps on his feet as his brother lands on the ground.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Luffy.” Observing now his grown little brother, Ace can’t feel anything else but be proud of him and of the man his is becoming.

“You too, Ace.” Both grip on each others’ hands is a strong lock over the barrel. “How long has it been?”

“Good question, but Luffy, it looks like you still go on your own pace, just like you did when you were kid.” Ace smirks mischievously as he can feel his brother putting force in trying to get Ace’s hand down and claim himself a winner.

“You too, Ace. I was surprised you ate a Devil Fruit, but besides that you’re the same.” Luffy says with a big grin.

“Oh, ye?” Ace laughs out loud as he hasn’t expected to hear this. He has definitely changed a lot since they last saw each other.

“Like when you would sneak into the fields and eat a hundred watermelons and then spit the seeds like your mouth is a gun and run?” Luffy blurs out fast as Ace has taken upper hand in their hand fight.

“This wasn’t me. It was you.”

“And then you got big bumps right here.”

“That was you again. I just watched and laughed.” Ace says as he is close to take the hand of his little brother down, but the barrel with water under them breaks due to their strength and their hands stay in the air locked in a firm handshake.

“I guess we’re both the same.” Luffy’s big smile spread across his face as him and Ace unlock hands and go for a high-five. “This brings back memories.”

Walking around town the two brothers are having small talks and catching up to each other, yet Ace still hasn’t mentioned the fact that he has married the girl of his dreams recently as he wants to do this when you are standing next to him. You have turned his life upside down in the best way possible and having you in it makes it finally worth living.

“Say, what kind of crew you have?” Ace is curious to know with what people his little brother has surrounded himself and Luffy wastes no time telling him about his crew – a swordsman, a navigator, a cook, a lair and the latest addition a reindeer. “That’s quite the variety you’ve got there.”

“We also have a princess and a duck now.” Luffy excitedly exclaims. “They’re all so interesting.”

“I’m sure you are the most interesting of them all.” Ace chuckles. “Still, a handful of people for a pirate crew... That’s just like you.” He smirks looking at Luffy.

“And I want a musician, too.”

You are waiting patiently by the Striker. It has been some time now, but you are sure that Ace is just catching up with his little brother. As you are sitting and waiting, finally, you see you husbands silhouette approaching you. You get up on your feet and smile at him once he stands in front of you.

“How was it?” You ask while wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You have to meet him officially.” Ace tells you with a big smile. “He is already on his ship so we can make a quick visit. After all I need to check his crew personally, what if they are not good enough for him?”

“Ay, ay commander.” You laugh out.

You and Ace gather your things quickly in the Striker and get to the open sea fast. As you are approaching the Going Merry you notice that there are quite lot of marines.

“I will take care of them.” Ace winks at you and you playfully roll your eyes. He just wants to show off to his little brother and crew, but you won’t deny that you enjoy the show yourself. It doesn’t take long for your husband to take down the three marines ships after all he is Fire Fist Ace, what else is there to be said?

Landing on the railing of the Going Merry, Ace is met with an awe by the entire crew. While they are having their little interaction you have reached the ship with the Striker and quietly made your way up to your husband who sensed you the moment you stopped your little boat.

“Hey, Luffy.” Ace awkwardly says with a big grin spread across his lips. “There is someone I would like you to meet.” He scratches the back of his neck as he is not sure exactly how to announce to his brother that he is a married man now. “You see I-”

“Hey, what are you doing here, nice lady?” Luffy asks confused as he is the first one to notice you standing next to Ace on the railing, and now him, his crew and your husband all look at you confused. A sea of questions start being thrown at you from how you managed to get on the ship to who you are, until one particular question takes everyone out by surprise.

“Nice lady? Why does he call you this?” Ace looks at you in confusion.

“Oh, we met in the restaurant where he sent you flying.” You explain with a smile and Ace’s eyes shit to Luffy who nods his head in confirmation.

“She let me eat for free.” Luffy adds and now it all makes sense to Ace why he calls you the ‘nice lady’. “How you two know each other?”

Looking at you, with all the love and admiration in the world, Ace can’t stop the smile which spreads across his face as he says, “This is my wife.” You return the smile as you two step down of the railing into the deck and interlace your fingers. “Luffy and crew, this is my wife (Y/N).” Ace introduces you to everyone and they are all in awe, now that the confusion and shock has passed away.

“He is a good big brother.” Chopper, the cute reindeer doctor says, and Usopp the guy with unusual long nose nods in agreement.

“Wish I had one growing up.” Usopp adds to Chopper’s comment.

“And he is a good husband.” Nami the navigator of the ship as she has introduced herself to you exclames as she cluches her chest admiring you and Ace.

“A loving one on top of it.” Vivi, the princess of Arabasta, adds as she wraps her arms around Nami.

“I hope I get blessed with such a beautiful, gorgeous wife myself one day.” Sanji, the cook of the ship cries out, and for a moment you even think that if his eyes can turn into a heart shape they will. 

“Simp.” Zoro, the swordsman, makes fun of him, but the blush on his face is not helping as he shyly takes glance at you.

“Wife? Why?” Luffy’s eyes shifts between you and Ace in slight confusion. The whole concept of marriage has been something he has never understood so this is a bit confusing for him.

“What do you mean by why, you idiot?” Sanji screamed at him. “Having a wife as beautiful as (Y/N)-swan must be the closest feeling to heaven.” He cries out again.

You and your husband just laugh at the scene in front of you. His brother is exactly as he has described him, but he is obviously a good kid with good friends along his journey.

“When did you two married?” Vivi looks at you excitedly and Nami follows her with a question.

“How did you two meet?”

“How do you find a woman like her?” The lovesick cook cries out... again.

Before you or Ace can answer any question Luffy interrupts. “Why don’t you stay with us for a bit?” To which you agree.

Two days have past since you have joined the crew and both, you and Ace, are having fun with his brother and friends. The similarities between Ace and Luffy sometimes scare you a bit, due to the fact that you are aware they are not biological brothers by any means, yet they act and look like ones so much.

The night has taken over the desert and you are having fun with the girls, missing the feeling of having female company around you, as the crew you are part of is mostly made of men, which you don’t mind, because not only you have met the love of your life among these men, but also your family.

Everyone has started preparing to go to sleep, while the little adorable reindeer Chopper is having a little banter with Usopp, but Zoro is quick to put an end to it. Meanwhile Ace is observing everyone and everything carefully, enjoying the night, but also lost in his own thoughts.

“Yo, Luffy. Come here.” Ace calls out for his brother and signals to him with a nod to follow him. Stepping aside from everyone and making sure that no one would hear him, Ace looks at Luffy seriously. “I want you to promise me something.”

“What?” Luffy raises one brow a little annoyed with his brother interrupting his fun before bed.  

“If something ever happens to me, I-” Ace can’t finish his sentence as he is quickly being interrupt.

“What do you mean if something happens to you? You have promised me that you won’t die.” His brother is quick to remind him the promise Ace has given a long time ago.

“And I won’t.” Ace replies slight harshly as his brother doesn’t even let him finish his sentence. “Now let me finish what I have to say.” He scolds Luffy. “I’m saying – If something happens to me, I want you to promise me to take care of her.” Ace can’t help but look at your direction. “I know she is strong and can handle herself no matter what, but please, promise me that you will look after her if something ever happens.” He returns his attention to his brother.

“I promise Ace. But you also have a promise to keep.”

“And I will.” Ace winks to his little brother as he pats his back, and they return to the rest of the group.

Seeing them coming back you give Ace a smile – a smile for which he is willing to die for but also keep on living for every day, as his days have become better since the day he saw it for a first time ever. Back there he has promised to himself on the spot that he will call you his wife no matter what, and he did keep his promise.

writing, format, header & dividers © eand47 ©eand47, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[sunshinehaze1]

Sizzlin’

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Summary: Your friend convinces you to attend a BBQ at her boyfriend’s friend’s house. The last thing you expected was meeting Frankie.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI. meet-cute, drinking (beers), slight dubcon (both reader and Frankie have had 2 beers, Frankie checks in), f!oral (it is Frankie, duh!), protected PiV, no use of Y/N

a/n: This was written for @yxtkiwiyxt’s NHIE Challenge. I received the prompt, “Never have I ever slept in someone else’s bed.” I LOVED this challenge and this was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to my beautiful beta reader @80ssong 🥰

word count: 5,176

ao3 | ml

"Come on, his friends are really hot!"

Sabrina has been bugging you to attend a BBQ with her boyfriend's friends this weekend. They've been dating for over a year, and you've hung out with him a few times, but his golden retriever puppy energy can be overwhelming. He's a great guy, though, and he makes her happy. You're thrilled your closest friend has found someone who treats her right.

You roll your eyes. "I'm not looking to date right now."

"Who said anything about dating?" your friend counters. "You could just have some fun."

You brush her off at the suggestion. "Please, will you just come? His friends are a lot of fun."

Finally, you relent. "Ok, fine, I'll go. It's not like I had any plans this weekend anyway."

Sabrina lets out a delighted squeal and wraps you in a bear hug. "Perfect, I'll send you the address and meet you there at 3."

"Should I bring anything?" you ask as you walk your friend to the door.

"They're simple guys. Beer will do just fine." Sabrina waves goodbye and closes the door behind her.

—

With the address in the GPS and a couple of six packs in the passenger seat, you begin your drive. You're nervous about being in a new place and meeting new people, especially those who are "really hot." It's early fall in Florida, so you can still get away with wearing a sundress. The heat won't take a break for at least another two months, so you wear your favorite one to boost your confidence. "Fake it til you make it," right?

You pull into a quiet neighborhood. The streets are lined with older homes shaded with mature trees, dripping in Spanish moss. The GPS pings as you approach your final destination, and you park on the street in front of a one-story brick home with a driveway full of pickup trucks and Jeeps.

Before you exit the car, you take a final look in the rearview mirror to adjust your hair and ensure your makeup hasn't melted off. Taking a deep breath, you grab a six-pack in each hand and head toward the house.

—

"Pope, for fuck's sake!" A broad-shouldered man, who fills the entire door frame, swings the front door open just as you reach for the doorbell. Your arms flail in surprise, and you fumble to keep the beer from crashing onto the pavement.

"Oh, shit." the man startles. "Sorry about that; I was just going out to get something from my truck. Here, let me help you with those." His calloused hands brush over yours to grab the cartons from your hands.

"Um," you stammer. "Thank you." Sabrina definitely wasn't exaggerating. Benny's friends are hot—at least this one is.

You take him in, starting with broad shoulders covered in a washed-out maroon t-shirt underneath a chambray button-up. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his sinewy forearms. You notice a small bullseye tattoo on his hand resting between his thumb and index finger. A ballcap with an unfamiliar logo sits atop a mop of brown curls, which peek out in the back. His eyes are a rich brown; crinkles form at the corners when he smiles wide, dimpling his right cheek.

You follow him inside the house. He sets down the beers and extends his hand to greet you. "I'm Frankie. You must be Sabrina's friend."

"It's nice to meet you, Frankie." His strong hand wraps around yours, and you introduce yourself.

Frankie quickly excuses himself and heads back outside to his truck.

—

"HEEYYYYYYYY!!!" you hear Sabrina sing-song as she walks into the house from the backyard. "You made it!" She greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug. She whispers in your ear teasingly, "So, I see you've met Frankie."

Shyly, "Yeah, we met. Almost lost a few beers in the process."

"I'm so glad you made it!" She drags you behind her toward the backyard. "Let me introduce you to everyone else."

You were surprised to see only Benny and two other men outside. This was a more intimate gathering than you had realized, immediately putting you at ease.

Sabrina introduces you to your host, Santiago, or "Pope," as you soon learn. Benny is two for two on the handsome friend count. He's shorter than Frankie, has dark hair and features, a broad smile, and a gregarious personality.

Next, you meet Benny's older brother, Will. Blonde hair, blue eyes, much more reserved than his brother. A strong, silent type. He seems content to be in his own world while he attends the grill.

You hear the grind of the sliding glass door behind you. Frankie walks through the threshold, waving a stack of folders in the air. "Got 'em!"

"My man!" Santiago slaps him on the back, "Thank you."

With his mission accomplished, Frankie finally has a chance to take you in fully. His gaze travels the length of your body, taking in your soft features and plush curves and admiring the cut of your dress, which perfectly accentuates your breasts, hips, and ass. The short length leaves your bare legs on full display.

—

The backyard is beautifully appointed with sable palms, hibiscus bushes, and a well-manicured lawn. There is a jacuzzi to the right of the grill, which doesn't surprise you; Santiago seems like a lady's man. No bachelor pad would be complete without a jacuzzi. Adirondack chairs encircle a small fire pit in the back corner of the yard. You reckon it only gets used during the short window when it is cold enough in Florida to have a fire and not melt.

"Food's almost ready," you hear Will call out.

Sabrina looks to you. "Come help me get the sides?"

You follow her back inside to the kitchen.

"What did I tell you?" Her eyes widened. "They're all hot, aren't they?"

You respond with a shy smile, "Yeah, you weren't lying."

She nudges her elbow against your arm while holding a bowl of potato salad. "I saw Frankie checking you out."

"You…" stammering out skeptically, "…no way?!"

"Yes, way! You look hot in that dress; why wouldn't he check you out?!"

You attempt to conceal your smile by focusing on the tiled floor. "He does seem nice."

"Oh, honey, he's not just nice! He's sweet, funny, and gorgeous," she whispers conspiratorially, "And it looks like he's packing some serious heat."

"Sabrina!" you scoff, playfully smacking her. "You're not supposed to be checking out your boyfriend's friend's package!"

"Says who? I can look, and you can touch to prove me right." She leaves you speechless, holding a tray of crudites, as she walks back outside, cooing to the boys that it's time to eat.

You make your way to the table with bench seats on either side. After you set the tray on the table, you take a moment to contemplate how to sit without exposing yourself in your short dress. Slowly, you lift your leg to straddle the bench, but your sandal catches, and you're thrown off balance. You brace yourself for an embarrassing fall until you feel strong forearms wrap around your waist to hold you steady. Frankie walking by at just the right time.

"Whoa, you alright there?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." sheepish and embarrassed, "Thank you."

He grabs your hand and says, "Here, let me." You begin your second attempt at climbing over the bench, flattening the back of your dress underneath you before you sit down.

Frankie looks down at you. "Would you like a drink?"

"That would be great, thank you." Anything to wash down the embarrassment and cool off from the heat of Frankie's touch.

He fishes out a bottle of beer from the cooler. Out of your periphery, you ogle him as he's bent over. His shirt stretched across his back, rugged khakis taut over his ass. You're suddenly much thirstier than you thought.

He returns to the table and sets the bottle before your plate. You feel the warmth radiating from his chest against your back, his bicep less than an inch from your face. A slight turn of your head and your nose would be in his armpit. You hold your breath, afraid that if you let yourself breathe in his scent, you'd succumb to the physiological response. That and the fear of getting caught sniffing a man you just met in front of his closest friends tempers your impulse.

Frankie sits across from you while the rest of the group sits around the table. Serving platters are passed around until the plates are full.

Frankie finds himself distracted by your sweetheart-necklined dress as everyone begins to eat. The hem curving over the top of your breasts, meeting in the middle at a point, which draws his attention to the tease of cleavage. He's completely ignored the clamor of conversation around him. Suddenly, a baby carrot lands in his lap, and he's brought back to the present. "Hermano, did you hear what I said?"

Frankie stumbles a response, "What's that?"

"Malo." Santiago shakes his head and huffs a laugh, "Pretty girl in front of you, and you lose all sense."

You feel the attention of the table shift to you and quickly avert your gaze, picking at the food on your plate and fixating on the pattern that outlines the rim of the dish. Your cheeks heat from the eyes burning into you. You're cautious about looking up to gauge Frankie's reaction; you don't want to become even more flustered.

Frankie flings the carrot back at Santiago, "Shut the fuck up, man!" But he's quick enough to bat it away before it hits him. The rest of the table erupts with laughter, allowing the awkwardness of the moment to dissipate, and you and Frankie join in.

Will asks, "So, how long have you and Sabrina been friends?"

You're thankful for the segue. "We lived on the same street growing up in Orlando. She followed when I moved to Tampa a few years ago for work."

Sabrina chimes in, "Yeah, you wouldn't make it here without me!" You both giggle.

"Sabrina tells me you all served together in the Army?" the men nod in unison.

They briefly share how Frankie, Santiago, and Will met in basic training. Benny joined their unit a couple of years later. They share minimal details about their deployments, not wanting to dredge up too many memories of that time, especially with new company present.

They've all retired from the Army and returned to civilian life. Will tours the state, speaking with personnel considering retirement from service. Santiago runs a security firm where Benny works. Benny is also an amateur MMA fighter, which Sabrina isn't fond of, but even she can admit he's really good. She's even told you that watching him fight does turn her on.

Lastly, you learn that Frankie has transitioned to civilian piloting and leads helicopter tours of the Bay. He has a four-year-old daughter, Lila. When he talks about her, his eyes sparkle. Clearly, she is the light of his life.

You hesitantly ask about her mom. You're nervous that this guy you've developed a crush on in a short period isn't single. "We split up over a year ago. It wasn't working, and we can be better parents to Lila this way."

You're impressed with Frankie's maturity and self-awareness, which enable him to have an amenable relationship with his ex. As a child of divorce with parents who were unable to put their grievances aside, you know how vital co-parenting is for a child. "I'm glad you could figure out what works best for you both and Lila."

Frankie nods before he takes a swig of beer. You watch as his thick fingers wrap around the bottle's neck. You're fixated on his throat; his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows the bitter IPA—the prominent vein on the side of his neck, with moles that dot along his tanned skin.

You and Frankie have been in a bubble. The friends surrounding you have been long forgotten as your conversation flows naturally. He has a calming presence that makes you feel comfortable and at ease. He's confident and funny, with a raspy laugh that takes over his whole face and radiates through him and a smile so broad that his eyes disappear.

Subtle flirting has become more overt. Your hands brush against his when you reach for the bowl of chips at the same time. You accidentally bump into him when you stretch your legs in front of you underneath the table. But he doesn't pull away, the rough sole of his shoe brushing gently against your bare leg. You glance at him with a sheepish grin, and he returns with a toothy smile. Fuck, he is handsome. Your eyes remain locked on each other, heat coiling within your body, and you sense the same in Frankie.

"I'm going to grab more ice for the cooler from the garage." Frankie stands up from the table, his eyes silently communicating to follow his lead.

As you get up from the table, you take his cue and ask, "Do you need any help?"

"Yeah, that would be great." A sly grin emerges. "Thanks!"

Frankie follows you through the door, his hand brushing softly against the small of your back. The contact sends shivers down your spine, and your pulse quickens as you feel his warm palm against the thin material of your dress.

"Garage is this way." Frankie guides you down the hall to the right of the kitchen.

When you turn the corner, Frankie is immediately on you. He is unable to hold back a second longer. He has you pinned against the wall, his arms bracketing you above your shoulders. Hunger swirls in his eyes, and you feel his breath against your cheek. He's so close to you that you're sure he can hear your heart beating.

"You are so god damn pretty." his finger trails along the strap of your dress and loops underneath, "And you're fucking killing me with this dress. I needed to get you alone."

A sigh escapes your lips, overwhelmed by his closeness and his touch on your bare shoulder. Unable to speak, Frankie fills the silence. "Can I kiss you?"

All you can manage is a nod, your bottom lip held between your teeth in anticipation.

He leans forward until his plush lips connect with yours. A moan escapes you both at the contact. What begins as a sweet, chaste kiss quickly becomes more intense.

He licks at the seam of your lips, seeking permission to enter. The bill of his hat hinders him, but he quickly flips it around to devour your mouth fully. It's a flurry of tangled tongues as he licks into your mouth. A groan escapes him when you grab his bottom lip between your teeth. A gentle nibble quickly soothed by the swipe of your tongue.

With his arm around your waist, he pulls you closer to him, the weight of his bulge pressing against your thigh. You feel wobbly even though you're sandwiched between Frankie's solid frame and the wall, forced to grip his shoulders for purchase to remain upright. Your fingers map the sinew of muscle along his traps and deltoids as he dives in for another kiss. Which somehow leaves you even more breathless than the last one.

The feverish kiss continues as he pulls you further down the hall. Twisted limbs tripping over each other, bumping into the walls, leaving picture frames askew. Spurts of laughter echo through the hallway as you fumble around, fingers tangled in the fabric of each other's clothes. His wide palms rest against your hips before snaking around to grip your ass cheeks. You can feel the slick arousal pool in your panties.

Emboldened by the drinks you had earlier and Frankie's attention, you suggest finding somewhere more private.

Frankie growls and grips your wrist, taking you further down the hall until you reach a threshold with a closed door. His arm reaches behind you to turn the knob, and you both fall into the dimly lit room. Dark curtains are draped in front of large windows, and the setting sun peeks through the gap in the fabric where they meet. You and Frankie stumble your way further into the room, hands groping manically over each other's bodies.

You slide Frankie's button-up shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Then, you tug the T-shirt underneath from the waistband of his pants. His hands travel under the hem of your dress, his fingers dimpling into the supple flesh. He shuffles you toward the bed and tosses you against it, giggling as you flail backward onto the soft mattress.

"Fuck, I could get used to that sound." he huffs.

Propped up on your elbows with one leg crossed over the other, you give him a coy smile. Frankie's eyes burn with lust as his gaze trails up your bare legs to your core. "I'm going to need you to open up, baby."

You slowly uncross your legs and spread them into a wide v. Frankie watches you intently, eyes focused on the pull of your dress up your thighs exposing the gusset of your panties, enraptured by the blooming wet spot caused by your arousal.

He hums as he falls to his knees. Leaning into your center with a deep inhale. "Fuck!" His palms warm on your thighs, his eyes pleading, "Can I?"

"Can you what, Frankie?" you tease.

"Can I taste you?" a desperate tone to his voice, "Please?"

You nod, and he's on you within seconds. His fingers slip into the sides of your panties, and you lift your hips so he can pull them off. Your slick folds glisten in the soft light of the room. "Fucking gorgeous cunt."

"Frankie, please."

"I got you. I got you."

The swipe of his tongue through your folds emphasizes his reassurance, and you cry out with relief. The whiskers of his beard brush against the sensitive skin. Frankie moans into your core as the sweet, musky taste of your arousal dances across his tongue. A sample is not nearly enough to satisfy him; he dives in for more.

Desperate for better access, he spreads your thighs further apart, pushing your legs up until your thighs meet your stomach. He holds you down with his palms flat against the back of your thighs. He leaves a wet trail along your skin as his arousal-soaked lips slowly kiss up and down your thighs. A gentle bite on your ass cheek sends a jolt of surprise through your body that you can't help but squeak out a laugh.

You can't even recover before the tip of his tongue journeys across your outer folds, looping around to the other side before sliding through your seam again. Up, up, up until he reaches your clit. His lips wrap around your sensitive nub. Sucking it into his mouth, lapping kitten licks with the tip of his tongue. Your body writhes below him, pulsating need coursing through your veins.

You reach between your legs, eager to feel any part of him, and yank the hat off his head. You fling it behind you, where it lands on the floor with a thud. His gorgeous hair is now unencumbered, your fingers free to roam through his soft curls. You grip the brown locks between your fingers and pull him further into your pussy, his nose bumps against your clit as he eats at you. "Fuck, frankie, you're incredible."

And he is. He really is. The best head you've ever experienced. Somebody who was a stranger just a few hours ago. You can't recall the last time you've been with such an enthusiastic lover. Especially one that is so wanton, eating at you, bringing you intense pleasure, and not making you feel like its a chore or an obligation.

You practically had to beg your ex to go down on you, and when he did, he expected you to return the favor. It never was about your pleasure. Frankie is different. He eats at you like it's his only way of survival, as if he'll die if you don't come by his tongue.

He groans into your cunt, shockwaves pulse through your body, at the precipice of your orgasm, "I'm so close."

Frankie, seeking relief from his painfully hard cock, reaches down to unfasten his pants. He releases his cock from his boxer briefs with a sigh. With a swipe of his hand, he gathers the precum that has leaked from his tip to coat his cock before he begins slow strokes up and down his length while he continues to devour your pussy, suckling at your clit. You're near the edge, ready to tumble forward as your legs shudder, the grip on his locks tighten. Your pussy begins to flutter around his tongue as you tumble over the edge, coating it in your release. "Frankie. Holy shit." you try to catch your breath. "Oh my god."

You lift his head from between your legs, and he reluctantly pulls away with a disappointed whimper. "Too much." you pant, "You're too fucking good at that."

Between your thighs, a crooked smile appears through his slick lips and his glossy eyes connect with yours, "Fuckin hell, you taste good."

Frankie moves from the floor and crawls up your body. The weight of his cock resting against your worn out pussy. He leans down to kiss you, leaving a trail of nibbles along your jawline until he reaches that soft spot behind your ear. Licking and sucking down the column of your neck to where it meets your shoulder. His tongue swipes along your collarbone as he slips the straps of your dress down your shoulders to reveal the lacy cups of your bra.

His lips traverse the plane of your chest, hot breath hovers over the supple skin spilling out of the cups. He grips the fabric of your bra between his teeth and pulls down one cup and then the other to release your tits. He lathes over each nipple, pulling the hardened buds between his lips, flicking them with the tip of his tongue before a gentle bite and releasing with a pop.

You emit a low moan at the combination of his mouth on your tits and his dick sliding through your soaked folds, the tip brushing against your sensitive clit.

"You're so beautiful." Frankie shakes his head in disbelief. "Do you want to keep going?"

As if it were even a question. Of course, you want to keep going, but you appreciate Frankie's check-in. You grabbed his head between your palms and brought him closer, eyes locked on his, sealing your enthusiastic "yes!" with a feverish kiss.

With that, Frankie sits back on his haunches and searches the room. He knows he doesn't have a condom in his wallet. He hasn't needed one in a while. Even if he did have one, it would have expired anyway. As he becomes more acquainted with his surroundings, he slowly realizes where you are and breathes out, "Fuck!"

You sit up in bed, holding the top of your dress against your chest. "What's wrong?"

"We ended up in Pope's room." he runs his palm over his face, scratching the whiskers of his chin. "And I don't have a condom."

You push aside the inevitable embarrassment you'll face for fucking in your host's bed and suggest with a mischievous grin, "Surely, Santiago has condoms."

The distraught look on Frankie's face disappears with a broad smile, and he shifts on the bed to open the nightstand drawer. When he opens the drawer, a Costco-sized box of condoms greets him. Relief washes over him, and he's grateful he doesn't have to cut things short with you.

He reaches into the box and pulls out a foil pocket. You lean back, propped up on your forearms to admire Frankie as he tears open the package between his teeth while stroking his cock with his other hand. Sabrina will be happy to know she was right. His cock is beautiful. Thick, long, and uncut. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him roll the condom down his length. His eyes never leave yours.

"Don't worry. It'll fit; I'll go slow." He reaches up to the neckline of his shirt, gripping its back and pulling it off in one smooth motion. "Lay back, baby."

He positions himself back over you. The broad expanse of his tan chest blocks the view of your surroundings. Not that it matters anyway; all of your attention is on Frankie. Captivated by his gorgeous face and the moles that scatter along his neck and sternum. You've already forgotten you're in Santiago's room, about to fuck this beautiful man, on his bed. He leans down to press a chaste kiss against your lips as he notches his tip at your entrance.

"You ready?" You nod, eager to feel him inside you.

It's been so long since you've had sex and you've never had a dick as large as Frankie's. As promised, he took things slow, feeding his cock inch by inch. Allowing time for your body to adjust before going further. There's a pleasurable stretch as your walls accommodate his girth and length as he reaches the hilt, kissing your cervix. "Pussy is just swallowing my cock, baby."

"It feels so good."

"Yeah?" He searches your face for any sign of discomfort. "You ready for me?"

"Yes! Fuck me, Frankie!"

Frankie pulls out until just the tip rests at your entrance. You whimper at the loss of him inside you, but he quickly soothes you with a thrust of his hips into you, pushing you further up the bed. He pulls out slowly, repeating the motion a few more times before he lands on a steady pace that has you seeing stars. "Hnngh, she's so tight." he moans, "Fuckin hell!"

"Harder, Frankie." you pant louder than you anticipated, "I can take it! Please, fuck me harder!"

Frankie slows his thrusts and quickly closes his palm over your mouth, "Shh. Shh. You gotta be quiet."

You hear the din and laughter from the backyard. You had been so distracted by Frankie's dick, you forgot you weren't entirely alone. "If I move my hand, can you be quiet?"

You nod. Frankie reignites his pace with more fervor this time. The tension built up over the afternoon finally comes to a head. Low moans rumble through you with each thrust. Your legs wrap around his hips.

"That's a good fucking girl." He reaches between your bodies to thumb at your clit. "I feel you squeezing me. Need you to come for me."

You scramble to reach the pillow behind you and hold it over your face to muffle your scream as you begin to pulse around his cock. Frankie continues to fuck you through your orgasm, his own imminent. It only takes a few more thrusts before he's spilling into the condom before he collapses onto you, breathless.

Your fingertips trail along the plane of his back and shoulders as his cock softens inside you. He peppers feather light kisses along your cheek before he reaches your lips and seals it with a searing kiss.

He pulls away to scan your face. "How are you feeling?"

"Perfect. Fucking incredible, Frankie"

—

You and Frankie sit together at the edge of the bed in your half-dressed, disheveled, fucked out state. The two of you savoring the afterglow of an incredible fuck and also delay the inevitable for as long as possible. You rest your head on Frankie's bare shoulder and express your embarrassment at a whopper of a first impression with his friends.

Frankie reassures you that it isn't that big of a deal. He kisses you gently on the temple and encourages you to get up so you both can rip off the bandaid. He scoops your dress up off the floor, and you flit around looking for your panties and bra while stealing glances at Frankie as he gets dressed.

When you're finally presentable, Frankie opens the bedroom door, motioning for you to go before him. As you head down the hallway, you're greeted with a chorus of cheers and slow claps.

"So, where's the ice?" You hear Benny boom out.

The group erupts in laughter, and you bury your face into Frankie's bicep. Standing next to Benny, Sabrina catches your eyes. With her palms facing each other, she subtly moves them closer and further apart, eyebrows quirking up. You avert your eyes to avoid her silent inquisition. You won't be able to handle her smugness over being correct about Frankie's size right now.

Frankie turns bright red while he stomachs pats on the back from his friends. Santi grips Frankie's shoulders from behind with a shake. "'Bout time you cleared out those cobwebs, hermano. But did it have to be on my fucking bed?"

—

You head back outside with the group for one last drink. Sabrina approaches you with a smile and wraps her arm over your shoulder to follow the guys. Another round of drinks is passed around, and fortunately, the topic of conversation has shifted quickly from your dalliance with Frankie.

Frankie sits next to you at the table, his thigh pressed against your bare skin.. He rests his hand just above your knee, offering a gentle squeeze. When you look up at him, his gaze focuses on you, and he smiles warmly.

The sun set a few hours ago, ushering in chillier air. Frankie notices you shiver. He pulls off his button-up and places it over your shoulders, returning his hand to your bare leg. You lean into him, savoring his warmth.

A few hours pass before you decide to call it a night, and Frankie offers to walk you to your car.

"It was really nice meeting you." You catch him nervously rubbing his hand against the back of his neck.

You grab his hand and squeeze, "You too, Frankie. I had a great time."

He smiles at this. "I'd love to see you again. Take you to dinner."

"I would love that!"

When you reach your car, you exchange numbers. With your back pressed against the door, Frankie's arm propped against the frame, he leans in for one last kiss. He squeezes your hip before he pulls away to open the door for you and as you turn to enter your car, he teasingly smacks your ass.

Before he shuts the car door, he offers, "Drive home safe. Let me know when you get home."

"I will." You nod. "I'll see you soon, Frankie!"

Frankie waits until you drive off before he turns to go back inside. A wide smile stretched across his face. A smile that won't be going anywhere any time soon. He's excited to find out what the future has in store for him, especially if that future includes you.

Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

tagging some folks who engaged in my WIP posts on this fic: @peepawispunk @burntheedges @joelmillerisapunk @baronessvonglitter @ak-vintage @probablyreadinsmut @goodwithcheese @almostempty (please let me know if you’d like to be removed)

[theonottsbxtch]

WHEN THE WORLD GOES QUIET PT.2 | LN4

an: i'm seeing a lot of love for this and i'm glad! i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing this - i'm now omw to the library to write some more stories for you guys hehe

wc: 6.1k

part one

FOR DAYS, SHE MOURNED.

She barely left her bed, drifting between fitful sleep and hollow wakefulness, the hours melting into each other like wax from a candle burned too long. The world outside continued - newspapers shouted about the war, footsteps echoed in the stairwell, rain pattered softly against the windowpane - but none of it touched her. It all felt so distant, like she was floating just outside of reality, unable to reach it, unwilling to try.

The soldiers had come back two days later after the first visit. They handed her a small box - Lando’s belongings. He didn’t have much. A pocket watch, the glass cracked but the hands still ticking. A battered deck of playing cards, edges worn soft from use. A few letters he never sent to her, some half-written, some only a few lines long. A book of poetry she gave him with his name scrawled inside the cover, the pages dog-eared and stained with ink. He lied to her, he said he’d never read it. A cigarette case, dented, still holding one last cigarette as though he was going to come back and smoke it with her in the rain while she sang.

She ran her fingers over each item carefully, as if memorising the feel of them, as if holding these things would somehow bring him back. She placed the box on the small table by her bed and left it there, untouched after that, unable to look at it for too long.

A week passed. The grief didn’t lessen, but it settled into something quieter, heavier, pressing down on her ribs with every breath.

And then, on the seventh day, there was a knock at the door.

It was weak. Barely there. Just a soft, uncertain tap tap tap, as if the person on the other side wasn’t sure they had the strength to knock at all.

She ignored it at first - probably some children selling biscuits. She barely had the energy to move, let alone answer the door. But then it came again, a little stronger this time, though still unsteady.

Slowly, she pushed herself up, wrapping her dressing gown around herself as she crossed the small, dimly lit room. Her body felt leaden, her mind sluggish, and for a moment, she thought it must be one of her neighbours - maybe Mrs. Holloway from downstairs, coming to check if she was still breathing.

She unlocked the door with tired fingers and pulled it open-

And nearly collapsed where she stood.

Lando.

He was standing in front of her, barely upright, swaying slightly on his feet like a man who’d been fighting gravity for too long. His face was bruised and still slightly bloodied, one eye swollen, a cut running along his temple. His uniform was tattered, stained with dirt and dried blood, his left arm cradled against his side as if even the weight of it was too much to bear. He looked ruined. Wrecked by something that should have killed him.

But he was here. 

Alive. 

A slow lopsided grin pulled at his split lip, his voice rough and hoarse as he rasped-

“Missed me, sweetheart?”

Her breath hitched, her vision blurred. For a moment, she could do nothing but stare, her hands gripping the doorframe to keep herself upright.

Then, before she could think, before she could stop herself.

She threw herself at him.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, her body colliding with his so suddenly that he let out a low groan of pain, but she didn’t care for a brief minute. He was solid. Real. Her fingers curled into his torn uniform, her face buried in his shoulder, and the sob that has been trapped in her chest for weeks finally broke free.

He let out a shaky breath, his good arm tightening around her waist as he whispered, “Took a long bloody way home, but I got here, didn’t I?”

Home.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands cradling his face, her thumbs brushing over the bruises there. He winced slightly but didn’t pull away.

“You-” Her voice cracked, raw from days of silence. “You died.”

He gave her a faint, crooked smirk. “Nearly died. Big difference, sweetheart.” His voice softened. “They shot us down over France. I-” He swallowed, something dark flickering through his bruised gaze. “I shouldn’t have made it.”

Her fingers trembled against his jaw, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs “But you did.”

“Yeah.” His voice was barely a whisper now. “Yeah, I did.”

She stared at him for a long moment, her breath uneven, her thoughts a tangled mess of grief and disbelief and absolute, crushing relief.

Then she grabbed his collar, yanked him forward and kissed him.

He made a low sound in his throat, startled, but he melted into her, his lips warm despite the cold that clung to his skin. It was desperate, messy, edged with too much pain and too many unsaid words, but neither of them cared. 

When they finally pulled apart, he let out a breathless chuckle, his forehead resting against hers. “Blimey. If I’d known I’d get a welcome like that, I’d have come back sooner.”

She huffed out a tearful laugh, skating her head as fresh tears slid down her cheeks. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, well,” he murmured, his fingers brushing weakly over her wrist. “You love me anyway, don’t you?”

She didn’t really know what love was growing up, she was raised knowing that she could only love God and the Church. But here, staring at this messy boy with his messy curls and lopsided grin, she thought of how much she mourned him, the lie she voiced for him and realised that yes, she did love him.

She exhaled, her fingers still cupping his face, and nodded.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I do.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, like he was letting it sink in, letting it steady him. Then, with a small, pained sigh, he leaned into her touch and muttered-

“Reckon I might need a lie-down, sweetheart. Nearly dying’s exhausting work.”

She let out a watery laugh, shaking her head as she finally pulled him inside, shutting the door behind them.

She still didn’t know how this was possible, how he was here, when she had already mourned him. She didn’t know if she would ever stop waking up in cold sweats, thinking it had all been a dream.

But for now, he was here and that was enough for her.

Once inside, she took care of him. Took care of him in the only way she knew how, with love.

The small flat wasn’t much, but it was warm, and it was safe, and for now, that was enough. She helped him out of his tattered uniform with careful hands, breath momentarily taken away as she took in his build. Her fingers ghosted over the bruised ribs, torn skin, the places where war had left its mark on him. He hissed when she pressed a damp cloth to the cut on his temple, but he didn’t complain, only watching her with a look that made her chest tighten.

She tried not to meet his gaze, tried to focus on the task at hand. But then-

“So,” he drawled, his voice still rough, still weak, but carrying the familiar edge of teasing. “Heard you called yourself my fiancée.”

Her hands froze.

Her stomach plummeted.

Her eyes snapped up to his, wide with horror. He looked far too smug for someone who had nearly died, his bruised lips curling into something that might have been a smirk if he wasn’t so exhausted.

She stammered, struggling for words, but before she could say anything, she glanced down at her hand.

And her heart stopped.

The ring.

It was still on her left hand. She had never switched it back.

Heat flooded her face so quickly she thought she might faint. She dropped the cloth to his lap and yanked the ring off, shoving it back onto her right hand, fingers trembling, her whole body ablaze with mortification.

“That was- I had to,” she spluttered. “They wouldn’t have told me anything otherwise, and I needed to know.”

Lando let out a low chuckle, wincing at the movement. “I dunno, sweetheart. Sounds an awful lot like a proposal to me.”

She picked up the cloth and threw it at his chest.

He let out a breathless laugh, catching it before it fell to the floor, but the sound faded quickly, something heavier settling between them. She swallowed, focusing on cleaning his wounds, pretending she wasn’t still burning from the embarrassment.

“You really did that?” he asked for a moment, his voice quieter now, “You went all the way out to Bovingdon?”

She nodded, dabbing gently at his brow. “Didn’t have a choice, did I?”

Something flickered in his gaze- something unreadable, something deep. “That was dangerous darling, what if something happened to your train?”

“I needed to know, Lan.”

He went quiet after that and she continued to work, washing away the blood, the dirt, the remnants of everything he had endured. The worst of it was his ribs, bruised and maybe cracked, but there was nothing she could do except wrap them, murmuring soft apologies when he flinched beneath her touch.

When she was done, she sat back, studying her work.

“You should be in the military,” Lando muttered, voice laced with exhaustion. “Proper little nurse, you are.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes. “I would be in the military, if they let me fight.”

His gaze softened. “I reckon you’d win the whole bloody war if they did.”

She scoffed, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. For a moment, just a moment. Things almost felt normal.

But then, Lando let out a slow breath, the teasing fading from his face.

“I lost Oscar,” he said.

Her heart clenched.

Lando’s right hand-man. His best mate. She had met him once- just once, outside the bar, both of them too drunk to be serious about anything. He had been tall, full of quick wit and easy laughter, and Lando trusted him with everything.

She didn’t know what to say.

Lando didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed somewhere far away - empty. “We were shot down over France. They got us good. We tried-” He exhaled, his hands twitching, curling into fists. “We tried to jump, but Oscar- his parachute wouldn’t open. I saw him go down. Couldn’t do a damn thing.

She reached for his hand instinctively, gripping it tightly.

“I don’t know how I made it back,” he admitted. “I ran back for Oscar, took him as far as I could and gave him a final prayer. Silly right?” he chuckled. “I took a bullet to the leg after that, nearly starved, but some French boys found me. Got me out before the Jerries could.” His throat bobbed. “But Osc-”

He didn’t finish. 

She squeezed his fingers, her heart aching. “I’m so sorry, Lando.”

He nodded once, slowly. But she knew this wasn’t something he would ever truly move past.

The war took and took and took.

And yet, somehow, against all odds. Lando had come back.

She let the silence settle between them, her fingers still wrapped around his. It wasn’t comfortable, not with the weight of what he had just said, but she knew better than to rush him. Lando seemed like the type of man who carried his grief quietly, let it sink into his bones where no one could reach it.

After a while, she exhaled softly and asked, “So, what happens now?”

Lando tilted his head back against the wall, his bruised face illuminated by the dim glow of the gaslight. He looked tired. Bone tired. But the ghost of a smirk still tugged at his lips.

“Well,” he drawled, “I’m on the injury list until I heal. Not much use to ‘em like this, am I?” He gestured vaguely to himself, to the cuts, the bruises, the way his left arm still hung stiffly at his side. “Can’t fly, can’t fight. Means I’m stuck here for a bit.”

She nodded, trying not to let the relief show too plainly on her face. He was here. He wasn’t being shipped back out - at least not yet.

Lando glanced at her, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. “Father O’Connell said I can stay at the Church until I’m good.”

That made her pause.

“The Church?” She repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He huffed a quiet laugh, as if he had been expecting her reaction. “They’ve got a spare cot, and it’s better than the street, sweetheart.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, fighting a smile. "You? Sleeping under a roof dedicated to the Lord you don’t believe in?"

Lando smirked. "Reckon I’ll be fine, so long as the walls don’t cave in the moment I step inside."

She laughed then, shaking her head. "Blasphemous and injured. You’re on dangerous ground, Lando Norris."

"Wouldn’t be the first time," he murmured, wincing slightly as he shifted.

She hesitated for a moment, watching him carefully. He was exhausted. She could see it in the way his body sagged slightly against the chair, the way his hands trembled faintly from either pain or sheer fatigue. He was trying to keep up the bravado, but she knew better.

"Stay here."

The words left her mouth before she had fully thought them through, but as soon as she said them, she knew she meant them.

Lando blinked at her. "What?"

She crossed her arms, feigning nonchalance. "You heard me."

He raised an eyebrow, smirking faintly. "Offering up your flat to a war hero, are you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Hardly. Just an injured man who can barely stand upright."

Lando chuckled, but then he really looked at her—like he was trying to understand if she was serious. "I don’t wanna be a burden."

"You won’t be," she said, softer this time.

He studied her for a long moment, as if he was trying to decide whether or not to argue. Then, finally, he let out a small, resigned sigh.

"Alright, sweetheart," he murmured. "You win."

And for the first time in days, she felt like she could breathe.

She looked after him because someone had to.

She changed the bandages on his ribs with careful hands, wiped the dried blood from his temple, made him tea even though he grumbled that he wasn’t some fragile old man. She forced him to eat, nudging a half-stale biscuit toward him when he thought she wasn’t looking. And when his body ached too much to sit upright, she guided him to the small bed in the corner of the flat, ignoring his protests as she threw a blanket over him.

It was quiet work. Steady. Something to keep her hands busy, something to stop her from thinking too much about the fact that just two days ago, she had been mourning him.

She was pouring him another cup of tea when she spoke, her voice quieter than before. "I prayed for you."

Lando, sitting up against the headboard, glanced at her. His injuries had settled into something duller now—still painful, but less sharp, less all-consuming. He wasn’t wincing as much when he moved, but his face still bore the bruises of war.

He studied her, something unreadable in his gaze. "Did you?"

She nodded, fingers tightening around the cup. "At the church. When I thought—when I thought you were gone."

His jaw tensed slightly, as if the thought of her grieving him was harder to bear than his own suffering. Then, after a pause, he exhaled and said, "I prayed."

Her head snapped up.

Lando Hargrove, the man who scoffed at church, who smirked every time she wore her cross, who always had something sharp to say about the God she wrestled with.

She swallowed. "You mentioned, you were serious?"

He nodded, looking down at his hands. His voice was quieter now, rougher around the edges. "When I was out there. Alone. Before the French boys found me, with Oscar." His fingers curled slightly, as if remembering the feel of the earth beneath them, the cold, the hunger, the absolute isolation. "Didn’t know if anyone was listening. Didn’t know if I even believed it." His gaze lifted to hers, raw in a way she wasn’t sure she had ever seen before. "But I thought of you."

Her breath caught.

She didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know how to unravel the knots twisting in her chest. So she just nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

The night carried on, slow and steady. She cleaned up the small mess from their tea, doused the gas lamp until only the dim glow of the streetlights filtered through the curtains. Lando had already sunk lower into the bed, exhaustion pulling at him with an unrelenting grip.

"You should sleep," she murmured.

His lips twitched. "And where are you planning on going, sweetheart?"

She hesitated. The flat was small—there was only the one bed, and the chair in the corner wasn’t much of an option.

Lando let out a quiet chuckle, shifting slightly to the side. "Come on, then. I don’t bite."

She rolled her eyes but, after a moment, relented. Carefully, she climbed in beside him, keeping a respectful distance, but the bed was small, and warmth carried between them in the sliver of space that remained.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then, just as her eyes were beginning to slip shut, Lando’s voice came, barely above a whisper.

"Still wearing that ring?"

Her lips twitched, but she didn’t open her eyes. "Go to sleep, Lando."

He let out a quiet, tired laugh.

And with that, for the first time in what felt like years, they both let themselves rest.

The night was still. The distant hum of the city had quieted, leaving only the occasional echo of footsteps on the cobbled streets below.

She had been deep in sleep, cocooned in warmth, when the bed jolted beneath her.

Then—

"Oscar!"

Her eyes flew open.

Lando was thrashing beside her, tangled in the blankets, his face twisted in something raw, something agonising. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his fingers clenching around the sheets as if he were still there, still on the battlefield, still losing his best friend over and over again.

"No—Oscar—wait—"

His voice cracked, broken apart by a sob.

She moved before she could think, shifting onto her side, reaching for him. "Lando—Lando, wake up—"

But he wasn’t awake, not really. He was trapped in the depths of it, in the nightmare, his chest rising and falling far too fast, his body trembling under the weight of something she couldn’t see.

Her heart ached.

She touched his face gently, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead. "Lando, love, it’s alright," she whispered, voice steady despite the tightness in her throat. "You’re here. You’re safe."

His breathing stuttered.

She ran her fingers through his hair, trying to bring him back. "It’s not real. You’re with me."

His eyes snapped open.

Wild. Glassy. He was still lost, still caught somewhere far away. But then his gaze landed on her—really landed on her—and something in him broke.

A strangled sound escaped his throat, and then he was clutching her like she was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. His body shook, and before he could turn away, before he could hide it, she felt it—

The tears.

Hot, silent, unstoppable.

Lando Norris was crying.

She didn’t hesitate. She lifted herself up, pressing soft kisses to his damp cheeks, tasting the salt of his grief. She wiped the tears away with her lips, her hands, her whole being, as if she could take the pain from him, as if she could bear it for him instead.

His hands curled into the fabric of her nightdress, his breath shuddering. He didn’t speak, and neither did she.

Instead, she held him.

And then, quietly, she whispered a prayer.

She didn’t know if he believed. Didn’t know if she believed anymore, not fully, not in the way she used to. But she prayed anyway, murmured soft words into the hollow space between them, words for Oscar, for Lando, for the war to end, for something greater than all of this.

Lando’s breathing slowed.

His grip on her loosened, just slightly.

She stroked his hair, pressing her forehead against his temple. "Sleep, love," she whispered. "I’ve got you."

He let out a shaky breath, and for the first time that night, he let himself fall.

And she held him, long after sleep claimed him again.

The rest of the night passed in fits and starts.

Even as Lando drifted back to sleep, his body remained tense, like he was waiting to be dragged back into the nightmare. Every so often, he’d shift against her, his fingers twitching in his sleep, a quiet murmur of Oscar’s name escaping his lips.

She didn’t let go.

She kept him close, her arms a steady anchor, her warmth something solid against the cold weight of his grief. When his breath hitched, she whispered reassurances into his skin. When his body shuddered, she ran soft, soothing strokes through his hair. And when dawn finally crept through the curtains, bathing the room in a muted grey light, she barely realised she hadn’t slept at all.

Lando stirred first.

It was slow—his body unwilling, his mind reluctant—but eventually, his brow furrowed, and he let out a low groan, pressing his face into the pillow.

She smiled softly. "Good morning."

A pause. Then, groggy, voice rough with sleep, he muttered, "Bloody hell."

She huffed a quiet laugh. "That bad, is it?"

He peeled one eye open, squinting at the light before shifting onto his back with a deep exhale. His gaze flickered to her, taking in the way she was propped up beside him, watching him with something gentle and knowing.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, voice lower now, almost hesitant.

She hesitated before answering. "You were already asleep when I came back," she murmured, "but you weren’t resting."

Lando’s jaw tightened. He looked away, exhaling slowly through his nose. "I—" He swallowed, then shook his head, running a hand over his face. "Shit."

"You don’t have to say anything," she said, watching him carefully. "Not now. Not ever, if you don’t want to."

Lando was silent.

And then—quietly, reluctantly—he said, "I dream about it."

She stayed quiet, letting him find his own words.

His fingers curled slightly into the sheets. "Sometimes it’s just flashes. The airfields, the engines, the bloody gunfire. Other times…" He exhaled sharply, his throat bobbing. "Other times, it’s Oscar. Every time I close my eyes, I see him. He’s still there, still trying to hold on, and I can’t—I can’t—" His voice faltered, raw and uneven.

She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his.

Lando blinked hard, then let out a small, humourless chuckle. "God, you must think I’m pathetic."

Her grip tightened. "I think you’re human."

He glanced at her, something vulnerable in his expression. Then, without a word, he squeezed her hand back.

The moment lingered.

Then, as if suddenly aware of their closeness, Lando cleared his throat and made a weak attempt to sit up.

She rolled her eyes. "Slow down, soldier."

"I was never a soldier," he muttered. "Just a bloody pilot who got too good at running from death."

She didn't argue. Not about that.

Instead, she shifted out of bed, stretching her stiff limbs. "Come on, then. You need tea, and I need breakfast."

Lando gave her a lopsided smirk. "That an offer to cook for me, sweetheart?"

She arched a brow. "You think I’d let you in my kitchen with your injuries? You can barely stand."

Lando chuckled, wincing slightly as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Reckon I should milk this while I can, then."

She threw a pillow at him.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the morning felt light.

The days passed in something dangerously close to peace.

For the first time in months—years, perhaps—she felt as though time had slowed, folding itself neatly around the four walls of her flat. Outside, London was still at war. Air-raid sirens still screamed through the streets, rations still stretched thinner by the day, and grief still clung to the city like fog. But inside, in the small space she shared with Lando, there was warmth.

Routine.

Something almost like a life.

She looked after him, of course. Changed his bandages when he let her, scolded him when he tried to do too much, forced food into his hands when he muttered that he wasn’t hungry. But he, in his own way, looked after her too.

He made her laugh, sometimes without meaning to. He occupied the space beside her like he belonged there, like there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be. He helped her with supper, standing over the stove with a cigarette perched between his lips, poking at potatoes with the wrong end of a wooden spoon.

One evening, after she had taken a pan from his hands with a sigh and done it herself, he leant against the counter and smirked.

"You know," he mused, watching her work, "you’d make a bloody good wife."

She nearly dropped the spoon.

The words caught her off guard, lodging themselves in a place she couldn’t quite reach, settling into the corners of her mind like an ink stain.

She glanced at him, half-expecting some cocky grin, but his expression was unreadable. He was watching her in a way that made her chest feel tight, made her hands shake ever so slightly as she turned back to the pan.

"Shame, that," she said, forcing lightness into her voice. "Don’t suppose anyone’s taking applications."

Lando hummed. "Well, I dunno about that," he said. "I did hear you’ve already got a fiancé."

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. "I knew you wouldn’t let that go."

"Course not." He grinned, stepping closer. "Imagine my surprise, waking up from the dead to find myself engaged. You could’ve at least let me propose first."

She swatted at him half-heartedly, but the warmth in her cheeks betrayed her.

It stuck with her more than she wanted it to.

After that, the thought wove its way into everything.

When she was brushing flour from her hands after baking the world’s most pitiful loaf of bread, she caught him watching her, and the words you’d make a bloody good wife flickered through her mind before she could stop them. When he reached for something on a high shelf, when he nudged her with his shoulder as he passed by, when he said ta, love with that easy grin—

It settled in her chest like a secret, like a whisper of something neither of them dared say out loud.

The week and a half passed like that. Cooking together, filling the flat with the scent of onions and broth, losing themselves in the simple pleasure of warm meals and soft laughter. The war felt distant, just for a little while.

She knew it wouldn’t last.

But God, she wished it would.

Another week passed, a haze of quiet mornings, warm meals, and the occasional conversation that lingered too long, as if neither of them wanted to break the fragile cocoon they’d woven around themselves. There were days when they barely noticed the outside world at all, as though the war had turned into nothing more than a distant rumble, something happening on the other side of a window that had been carefully closed.

The mornings had become routine—her getting up first, brewing tea, him shuffling into the kitchen in a half-awake stupor, ruffling his hair as he grumbled about being woken. The evenings fell into a rhythm too, with them sitting on the small couch, half a room away, each wrapped in the comfort of the other’s company, while the world continued its war somewhere beyond the windows.

One morning, she woke with the warm weight of Lando's arm around her, his breath soft against the back of her neck. She hadn’t realised it at first, but somehow, during the night, he had pulled her close, and now she lay pressed to his chest, his hold tight, as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

She shifted, careful not to disturb him, and the soft sound of bells reached her ears—faint at first, a distant chime that grew louder. She frowned, trying to make sense of it. It wasn’t the air-raid sirens, and it wasn’t a church bell for a funeral. No, this was different. This was... celebration?

She carefully pulled herself out of his arms, wincing at the small space between them, and padded quietly across the room. Her fingers brushed the curtains aside, and she peered out of the window.

The street below was buzzing with life. People were spilling into the streets, laughing, shouting, and cheering. Flags were being waved. And there—there were the children, dancing in circles, holding hands like they were marking the end of something heavy. The sounds of joyous voices drifted up to her.

Her heart began to pound. No... it can’t be…

"Lando," she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

She turned back toward the bed, her heart thundering as she crossed the room in a few quick strides. She leaned over him, shaking him gently at first, then more urgently. "Lando, darling—wake up!"

He groaned, rolling over and blinking up at her with a dazed expression, his messy hair sticking up in all directions. His face softened when he saw her, but it didn’t last long as the sound of the bells filled the room.

"What—?" He froze, his eyes suddenly clear, his breath catching.

She couldn’t contain the excitement in her voice, her hands gripping his shoulders. "Lando, the war—it’s over. They’re celebrating. Can’t you hear the bells?"

His eyes widened, then narrowed as he slowly pushed himself up, confusion flickering across his face before realisation dawned on him. The sound of the bells reached his ears, clearer now, and he could hear the cheering too. The world outside, the noise, the celebration—it was undeniable.

He sat up, blinking as he rubbed a hand over his face, disorientated for a moment as if he were still in a dream. Then, a half-laugh, half-sob escaped him, and for a moment, he didn’t move. He just looked at her, his gaze flickering over her face.

"Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath. "Is this... is this really happening?"

She nodded, her own disbelief mirrored in her wide eyes. "It’s true, Lando. They’re celebrating. The war’s ended. It’s finished."

He sat there, silent for a beat too long, before shaking his head as if to clear it. Then, he suddenly sprang from the bed, moving quickly, as if the news had sparked something deep inside him, something that couldn’t be contained.

In a few long strides, he was at the window beside her, his eyes scanning the crowds below. People were hugging, crying, dancing in the streets. And for the first time in years, there were no sirens, no orders to follow, no planes overhead.

Lando’s hand reached for hers, his fingers squeezing with a kind of urgency she hadn’t felt in days. His voice was soft, still somewhat stunned. "It’s over," he whispered, his lips curving in something fragile—something that might have been a smile, if not for the look of wonder in his eyes.

She nodded, her heart swelling with something she didn’t know how to name. "It’s over, Lando."

He turned to face her, his hand still holding hers, his thumb rubbing along her knuckles in a slow, tender motion. His eyes softened, the hardness that had lingered around the edges of them for so long finally ebbing away. "What now, then?" he asked quietly, as if the question itself was almost too much to ask after everything.

She thought about it for a moment, the uncertainty of the future heavy in the air between them, but the weight of the moment didn’t seem as daunting now. The war had ended. The world was open. And somehow, impossibly, they had made it.

"I don’t know," she replied, her voice soft, "but we’re still here. And that’s enough for me."

Lando smiled then, the warmth returning to his face, and for the first time since she’d met him, it wasn’t just a smirk or a teasing grin—it was something full of hope, something genuine.

Then, without another word, he leaned down and kissed her.

The moment his lips met hers, the world outside—the cheers, the bells, the war that had just ended—ceased to exist.

Lando kissed her like he had waited his whole life to do it, like he had been holding it back for weeks, months, maybe even longer. His hands cupped her face, rough and warm, his fingers sliding into her hair as he pulled her in like she was the only thing tethering him to the earth.

She gasped against his mouth, barely catching her breath before he kissed her again, deeper this time, more desperate, more real. Her hands clutched at his shirt, fisting the fabric like she needed to hold onto something solid, like if she let go, she might slip away into whatever fever-dream this felt like.

His body was warm against hers, his breath uneven as he pressed her back against the wall, his lips trailing from her mouth to her jaw, then to the hollow of her throat. She shuddered at the feeling, at the way his hands mapped out every inch of her like he wanted to memorise her in case she vanished before his eyes.

She felt alive.

After everything—after loss and grief, after nights spent in silence, after waking up to a world that had been at war for too long—this was the only thing that felt real. This moment, here, with him.

His forehead pressed against hers as he caught his breath, both of them dizzy from the weight of it all. His voice was low, rasping against her lips, breathless and full of something she couldn’t quite name.

"Well, what to do with my life now?" he murmured, his mouth quirking into something like a smirk, "s’pose I’ll just live here then. With my fiancée."

She let out a breathless laugh, her hands still tangled in his shirt. "Oh, will you now?"

"Reckon so." He grinned, but there was something warm and certain behind it. "Would be a bit odd for me to be staying with a woman I’m not engaged to, don’t you think? The people they’ll talk and your reputation. It’ll be ruined."

She raised an eyebrow. "Lando, you do know you never actually asked me, right?"

For a second, he looked taken aback, as if the thought had never even crossed his mind. But then, without hesitation, he stepped back, took her right hand in his, and before she could say another word—

He dropped onto one knee.

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering wildly as she watched him, watched the way his fingers gently pried the ring from her right hand and held it between them.

His eyes found hers, and for the first time, there was no teasing, no bravado—just Lando, raw and real, looking at her like she was the only thing that had ever mattered.

"I haven’t got a real ring," he said, voice quiet, steady, "not yet, anyway. But I’ll get one. I swear it." He swallowed, his thumb brushing against the band between his fingers. "I’ll find a job—something stable. I could go to school, or work at Billy’s pharmacy, or whatever pays enough to get us something real, something good. And then..."

He took a breath, his lips quirking up into a lopsided smile.

"Then, if you’ll have me, I’ll marry you proper. But for now, all I can do is ask."

He reached for her left hand, slipping the ring onto her finger where it belonged.

"So what d’you reckon, sweetheart?" His voice was softer now, his eyes never leaving hers. "Marry me?"

She stared at him, her chest tightening, her whole body light and heavy all at once.

And then, with the weight of the war finally lifting, with the streets outside alive with celebration, and with the man she loved on his knee before her—

She nodded.

"Yes," she breathed, tears pricking at her eyes. "Yes, Lando."

And before he could even stand, she threw herself at him, kissing him again like she would never stop.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @isaadore @driverlando

[mggslover]

Reflections pt. 2

In which Spencer sees himself in a suspect, making him willing to do anything to protect her.

PART 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Genre: crime x angst x hurt/comfort Content warnings: post prisoner!spencer (but no spoilers since i’m not on that season yet, can contain inaccuracies), reader cuts longer hair short, guns, reader isn’t the best person, emotional, vague mentions of sa and suicide, kidnapping, fade to black smut (so suggestive content) Word count: 5,8k A/n: turning a supposed to be one shot into a series is more difficult than i anticipated lol. i’m hoping you guys will enjoy this part as much as the first one :) i'd love to hear your thoughts!!

Vibrant flashes of the pixelated scenes on TV reflected against the motel room walls. You were reminded of how your mother always used to say that watching television in the dark is damaging to your eyes. You never doubted her. Never felt the need to confirm her words by looking it up. It’s in human nature to trust one another. It is only when someone betrays you — or when you betray them — that trust gets damaged.  You sit on the edge of the bed, mindlessly picking at the loose printing of the Caltech shirt you’re wearing — Spencer’s Caltech shirt — as you watch the umpteenth news segment since you left the state. “Authorities are still on the lookout for a suspect following the poisoning of three men. The men were murdered at a college reunion that took place inside a bar, their bodies found just a street away. These promising young men had bright futures ahead of them, which were brutally robbed by this suspect–“

The screen flickered to your passport picture, showing a list of your physical descriptions on the right. 

“She’s believed to be armed and dangerous. Please, come forward if you have any information on her possible whereabouts. The FBI have stated that they will not stop their search until they have the suspect in custody. Justice will be served.”

With a scoff, you grab the remote, the screen fading to black with a simple click of your thumb. 

Young promising men, my ass. Hearing that sentence out loud left you with a bitter taste in your mouth, burning your throat as you swallowed. You let out a deep exhale, your body falling back onto the hard mattress with a thud, allowing the darkness to envelop you as your thoughts swirled through your head. 

Your whole life you had run away from the things that scared you, preferring to flee than live with the reality of the situation. You’d made the conscious decision to change your behaviour once you had decided to walk into that bar. But one thing led to another, and without being aware of it at the moment, you’d found yourself in the same situation: fleeing. Only this time around, it was different. This time you were on the run. And it wasn’t a question of if, but of when you’d be caught.

Ignoring the remorseless pounding in your head, you roll over the mattress. The cheap sheets rustled underneath you in protest as you threw your legs off the side. Your hand patted the bedside table until you felt the switch on the night lamp, turning it on. The room, as a result, illuminates in a soft, golden glow. 

Your eyes adjusted to the light, slowly taking in your surroundings. You noticed a large bookshelf against the right wall that you swore you hadn't seen before. Although your mind had been so clouded these past days that it wouldn’t be strange if you looked over it. Curiosity got the better of you, and with steady steps, you walked toward it. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. The words played in your head as your fingers grazed against the dusty spines. When the melody came to its natural halt, you grabbed the book that your finger had landed on.

Gone Girl.

You scoffed a breathy laugh, “Obviously.” You held the book mockingly in the air, giving an ironic nod and tight-lipped smile toward the ceiling. “Thanks, universe.”

The irony hit you as you flipped through the pages. Maybe you’re more like the protagonist—Amy Dune—than you’d like to admit. Always having the need to orchestrate the outcome of your life, selfish enough to not care about the consequences it has for others. What if the universe is not trying to mock you, but merely giving you a hint? Were you supposed to change your appearance? It worked for Amy. 

Your feet carried you to the stuffy bathroom, the book still in hand. With your elbow, you turned on the light switch, cringing when you saw yourself in the mirror. The only sleep you’d gotten in the past days was in Spencer’s arms, and damn was it a good sleep. 

Sleeping with an FBI-agent sounded like a good plan. Well… at least to you. What are the chances of being a suspect in a crime, not being believed by anyone, and then being interrogated by a man who had heart eyes for you? There was no other option than to play into it, and you thanked yourself for taking those theater classes in high school. 

However, it wasn’t all a ploy. It affected you to have someone be so gentle with you, to have an absolute stranger care so much for your well-being. And when you kissed him… you knew your heart was involved too.

Still, your brain overpowered your feelings. The second you woke up, you knew you had to leave. They already knew about Natalie, and the more time you gave them, the more dirt they’d find on you. Taking that gun? Call it a precaution. Hijacking a car to get to the motel? Well, you stole it from a hobo. Could’ve been worse. 

“God,” you groaned, thinking back on the events of the past few days. You rubbed your eyes and dramatically slid your hands down your face.

Your eyes landed on the nail clipper placed on the sink. This is so, so bad. You placed the book down, then picked the item up, circling the cool metal around your fingers. The ghost of your face reflected back at you in the mirror. Oh, your hairdresser will kill you. But who will care if you’ll be locked away in prison, anyway? At least your humor was still working.

You brought the clipper to the ends of your hair, your thumb pressing down as you cut a lock. The sound sent shivers to your spine, a sour face impaled on you. 

“I swear to god Amy, don’t fail me with this,” you mumbled to the sky in a prayer. 

-`♡´-

3 Days Ago

Being frustrated was an understatement for the way Spencer was feeling. 

Once he left the bedroom, it took him less than a second to notice the slight gap between the cupboard doors. His pulse quickened, he stood frozen for a moment as he felt a tight knot form in his stomach. In a sudden rush, his senses came back to him. He took a leap toward the cupboard, slamming the doors open, and to his suspicion, he found the safe unlocked. His gun vanished in the same way as you had. 

He couldn’t help the string of curses that escaped his lips. His hands reached through his hair, tugging at the loose curls as his mind raced in every possible direction, none of them making sense. 

How could he have been so stupid? He’s a profiler, for Christ’ sake. It’s his job to read people, to see through their lies. His cheeks heated in embarrassment, recalling the disapproving looks of his team members when he told you that he believed in your innocence. 

You were innocent. At least, that’s what he thought. Now he wasn’t sure anymore. An innocent person wouldn’t run, and they especially wouldn’t steal the gun of a federal agent while they’re at it. 

He thought back on your arrest. It happened quickly. The team had received a call from someone at the reunion who had been taking a smoke break in an alley near the bar, the first to discover the bodies. Finding you was simple. Your behavior was suspicious on the camera footage. You looked nervous as you walked into the bar, wiping your clammy hands on your dress, scanning the room as if in search of something. When your eyes landed on the three men, your gaze grew cold. It wasn’t difficult to connect the dots when you rushed out of the emergency exit right after the men had accepted their poison-filled drinks. 

But now it was a completely different story. You could be anywhere. The uncertainty gnawed at him. He felt responsible for this, even though it wasn’t his decision to let you go. He’d been insistent on getting you out of that interrogation room as fast as he could. The guilt pressed down on him, the pressure on his ribcage accumulating with every second that passed. Every second that he didn’t do anything was another chance for you to run. Spencer had no choice but to call Hotch as he stepped into his Volvo. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t know what you were capable of. 

-

Spencer made sure to evade Derek’s sharp glances as he walked through the bullpen, headed straight for the small flight of stairs. 

Hotch was standing at the door frame, waiting on him. He never had experienced being scolded by his parents, but this sure seemed like a similar situation. Spencer swallowed, his hands tucked in the pockets of his pants, trying to hide his nerves as he braced himself for the words that were about to follow.

“I’ve informed the rest of the team,” Hotch explained, his eyebrows edged in an irritated frown. “The only reason that you’re on this case is because you could give personal insight into the unsub. We’ll discuss this afterward,” he added in a warning tone, “Behaviour like this is not tolerated.”

“I know,” Spencer muttered, his voice coming out hoarse. I don’t agree, but I understand. “I’m sorry.”

Aaron nodded, seemingly satisfied with his response. His body leaned forward, head tilted as he called the team to gather around the round table. 

-

“Man, you slept with her?!” 

Derek hadn’t even properly sat down before the criticizing jabs slipped out. The tone was instantly set, an awkward tension lingering thick in the air.

Spencer’s mouth opened, his fingers flexing, but before he could respond, Emily rose from her seat. “It’s in the past. Right now, we should focus on finding her before she’ll devolve.”

Hotch nodded in agreement. This discussion was pointless; there was no time to lose. “Garcia, can you go over her documents again?”

“Of course, sir. Uh, let’s see–,” her purple colored nails tapped against the keyboard of her laptop. “She hasn’t been very active in the last few years. Most activity was during college. She majored in chemistry.”

Spencer’s heart did a jump at the mention of chemistry. He barely got the chance to ask you about yourself, and he was fighting the urge to ask Penelope for more information, wondering what else you’d have in common. 

“Wait a minute,” Spencer wondered out loud when his brain made the connection. “Chemistry.”

“The victims were poisoned,” Rossi noted, connecting the dots.

Spencer suppressed the rising nausea by forcing his eyes shut. His knee tremored, anxiously tapping against the underside of the table. He really didn’t know you, did he?

Hotch’s furrow deepened. “Another confirmation that she’s the one we’re looking for.” He turned to Garcia, “Did we receive the results from the lab?”

“Not yet, sir. But this is interesting though,” her nails continued their rhythmic clicking. “She dropped out of college a couple of months before graduating.”

“You wouldn’t just do that,” Rossi mused. “Can you find any reasoning in her archives?” 

Penelope shook her head. “Not really. The whole thing seemed pretty sudden. She had good grades.”

Hotch leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. “Let’s look at victimology.” 

“Okay, so we got Shaun Dallas, Eric Zimmer and Nathan Johns. Tight buddies throughout college and they still seemed to be according to social media. Different majors, none of them chemistry.”

“She seemed disgusted when I brought them up,” Derek added, referencing your interrogation. “Said that nobody in college liked them.”

“Well, they seem like the standard gross jock types,” Penelope commented. 

“Does she have any history with them?” Emily asked.

“Uh, not that I can see,” Garcia replied. “I don’t even think they shared any classes.”

“What about them personally? Anything you can tie to her wanting them dead?”

“Let’s see, boy wonder…” Garcia mumbled in response to Spencer, eyes focused on the screen. “Here! I got something.” 

Everyone stared at her in anticipation. “Nathan Johns was involved in a Peeping Tom “incident” when he was fifteen. He had a habit of peeping underneath the bathroom stalls in highschool, and one girl decided to press charges with her parents. Claims were quickly shut down though, because, obviously, his father is a lawyer.”

Hotch’s lips pressed into a tight line. “What about the other two?”

“Zilch. Squeaky clean records.”

“Let’s leave that for later,” Rossi suggested. “We have more to say about her MO.”

“She poisoned her victims,” JJ chimed in. “That makes sense with her chemistry background. She’s also shown that she’s meticulous and pays attention to detail.” She continued elaborating, “She managed to poison the drinks without the bartender noticing and she made sure to keep an eye on Spencer as he typed in the code to his safe.”

The team nodded like-mindedly. Spencer bit down on his bottom lip. He didn’t have much of a say in all of this. He didn’t even know why he still tried to make sense of it all. Whether he genuinely believed in your innocence or if this was an attempt at finding a theory that would sooth his mind.

“She’s rather chaotic, actually,” he eventually spoke up. “She snapped during the interview when Natalie Fisher got mentioned. She took my gun while I was in the room next to her. To be more specific, she—“ he cleared his throat, “I woke up and she walked back to me before heading out. It doesn’t match the MO of the killings.”

“What are you suggesting, kid?” Rossi asked, confusion visible on his face.

“She doesn't have to be the unsub.” 

“Oh, come on, man. Then how do you explain the dumping of the bodies?” Morgan inquired, his tone laced with accusement. “She went from meticulous to dropping the bodies in the middle of an alley where anyone could pass by. She’s shown dramatic changes in MO before.”

“The bodies could have been placed there to set her up. The unsub must have known she’s disorganized, so positioning the bodies there could be connected to her. If the unsub is as diligent as we’re assuming, he could’ve easily disposed of the bodies in a place where we wouldn’t be able to find them. Instead, he dropped them right in the face of any passersby.”  

“Spence, I thought we’ve been over this,” JJ said, offering a sympathetic smile, her hand sliding over the table to reach out for him.

Spencer quickly pulled his hand back, seeing the obvious hurt on his friend’s face. Yes, they had been over this. He was positive that he would snap if he had to go through another “Are you sure you’re ready to be back? The change from prison to society is a huge change” conversation. 

“Did she share anything else that makes you think this way?”

Spencer blinked at Hotch's question. The moment was still fresh in his mind. He remembered how nervous he felt when he had asked you to take you to his place. He had replayed the hypothetical conversation in his mind a thousand times, how he would first open up about his past, wanting to make you feel comfortable enough to open up about yours. But when you kissed him the way you did, there was no space for any other thoughts in his mind.

“Reid,” Hotch repeated.

“No.”

“No?” 

“She said that she likes the sea,” he shared, the corner of his lip slightly lifting at the memory. 

“I feel safe in your arms,” you whispered, your breath tickling his chest as you lay your head on top of it. His arm was wrapped around you, tracing patterns on the bare skin of your arm, wondering if you could feel his pounding heartbeat. 

“The only other place I’ve felt this safe is at sea.”

He smiled as he gazed down at you. Then he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Really?”

He felt the movement of you nodding. “It’s the only place that calms my mind.”

The sound of ruffling paper snapped him out of his thoughts. He lifted his head to see Rossi unrolling a large map of the country. 

Spencer could feel the prying eyes on him. Geography of the unsub is his strength. He inhaled a deep breath before leaving his chair, reluctantly walking toward the wall where Rossi had pinned the map.

“She told you that she didn’t have a place to stay,” Prentiss stated, her words sounding like a question for affirmation.

Spencer nodded, trying to focus on the case like it was any other. “She walked to the reunion, probably taken by cab, and then we found her walking around the area when we arrested her. So, she has no vehicle.”

“For all we know, she could’ve taken the first plane out of the country,” Morgan interjected.

Hotch clicked his tongue. “We alerted Border Patrol when Reid had called me, which was less than an hour after she had left his house. If we assume she’s chaotic, she wouldn’t be able to book a flight that quickly. The only place you can disappear this smoothly has to be a place in her comfort zone.”

“Can we assume she’s still in Virginia?” Rossi asked.

“I don’t think so,” Spencer replied. “Her picture is all over the state, and Virginia’s beaches are very populated, with a minimum of in the hundred thousands. Virginia Beach, for example, has a population of 453.649.”

“She doesn’t have a car,” Rossi thought aloud. “There are no records of her having a stable job, so she doesn’t have a lot of money in her pockets either. Knowing cab drivers, they won’t want to drive around for hours, which leads us to—“

“Delaware,” Spencer finished. 

-`♡´-

A sea breeze gently caressed your face, blowing through your cut hair. With your eyes closed, you cherished the sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the scent of saltwater in the air. It was a nostalgic smell that came with a flood of memories: building sandcastles on the beach, running barefoot across the hot sand before diving into the sea, loud laughter as you splashed the water and got splashed in return. 

The flashbacks were a stark contrast to your current predicament. When you opened your eyes, it was dark. The sea in front of you looked black, only reflecting a small glimmer of the moon that hung low in the sky. The sand beneath your fingers felt cold. And there were no sounds of laughter, not even the sound of annoying seagulls. You were surrounded in absolute silence.  A crunching noise came out of the darkness. The sound so sudden and intense, similar to being whipped across the face. Though, your head didn’t turn. You knew who was out there. 

The sounds grew louder. Sweat started forming on your face and hands. Your fingers trembled as you reached into the pocket of your jeans, the tight fabric cutting into your hand as you pushed deeper until you felt the cool metal of Spencer’s gun.

“Don’t.”

The word cut through the air. Your grip on the gun tightened in an effort to keep your fingers from shaking. No words left your mouth as you carefully tilted your head. 

In front of you stood Spencer, exactly as you had predicted. But unlike your predictions, he was on his own. Was he here by himself to personally arrest you? To revel in your loss?

You continued to stare at him, though you weren’t really seeing him. Your vision blurred by the tears that had welled in your eyes. You blinked them away, focusing on his gun, which he held tightly in between both hands, aimed straight at your skull. 

“Is that a new one?” 

He seemed taken aback by your question, glacing down to the firearm in his palms. When he looked back at you, you stood in front of him, mirroring his stance, gun directed at his chest.

“I like this one better,” you commented, clicking the safety off.

Spencer cocked his head, maintaining his unwavering eye contact. He seemed to be challenging you. You clenched your jaw, anger boiling hotter inside of you. 

“Put the gun away,” he strictly ordered, though his tone remained unnervingly calm. It was too calm for your liking. He should be scared. At least show a sign of nerves. Instead he looked at you like you were a joke, like you weren’t capable.

“You’re not going to use it anyway,” he dismissively adds, fueling your anger.

“Yes, I will!” 

Your voice taunted as you took a step forward. Your legs trembled at the move, your heart thudded painfully in your chest to the point of nausea. It was difficult to comprehend the next words he spoke, your ears ringing before you even fired the shot.

“You didn’t kill those people,” Spencer declared. The words sounded like he was repeating a scientific fact. Like it was the only possible truth.

He then called out your name.

The word rolled off his tongue like it was crafted just for him to say it. Akin to a gentle symphony. His pronunciation was just as soft and full with longing as it had been when he breathily whispered it into your ear over and over again.

“I would’ve!” you shouted out, shaking yourself out of your thoughts. You strode forward until the barrel of your gun pressed into his chest, jabbing the cold metal into his clothed skin. 

He didn’t flinch. Instead of his breathing hastening, it slowed down. His eyebrows drooped as he looked down at you. 

“I would’ve,” you repeat just as loudly, digging the weapon harder into him. Pity remained on his face and you couldn’t stop the tears threatening to spill again. Whether it was from frustration or sorrow, you weren’t sure. 

“I would’ve, I would’ve, I would’ve!” 

The words tumbled from your mouth like a mantra, each repetition feeling like the only way to catch your breath. With every spoken word, you hit his chest, though your punches weaken with every syllable.

Spencer continued to watch you, observing you as he gave you the space that you needed. When you looked up at him, his eyes were glistening, triggering something inside of you.

A sob broke free from your chest. Spencer’s gun slipped from his hand in reaction, falling into the sand with a muffled thud. 

“I should’ve…” you choked out, the words a combination of an apology and a confession.

Spencer nodded compassionately, his hands reaching out to gently cup yours. 

 “Should’ve done it. Should’ve been me.” 

“I know, sweetheart,” he spoke reassuringly, carefully taking the gun from your limp fingers and tucking it in his back pocket. His hands quickly returned to yours, without you even registering his movement. “I know.”

“I’m so sorry,” you softly cried. The words weren’t meant for Spencer, but somehow, he understood. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, holding you against the spot where your gun had been only seconds ago.

Sorries became the new prayer you desperately muttered against his chest. Sorries to Natalie. Sorries for being weak. Sorries for not giving her the justice she deserved. Sorries for dishonoring her when she needed you most. Sorries for everything.

The apologies to others turned into a plea to receive them yourself. Sorry for making you so naive. Sorry for making you weak. Sorry for giving you the need to run from yourself. 

Your head hung low against him, your grip on his shirt tightening, your lungs constricting like it was painful to breathe. 

“You’re angry.” Spencer noted, noticing the change in your posture. 

You sniffled against him, not having the energy to lie. “Yes.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your hair. The gesture made your stomach flutter. 

You felt conflicted by his kindness. How was he able to hold you so tightly? To choose to stay by your side despite the mess you were.

The delicacy of his touch parallel to the fury still simmering inside of you. 

“I am so mad,” you admitted in a resigned breath.

His hand slid from your head to your neck, gently cupping your jaw. “Let it out on me.”

You had to furrow your brows, not sure if you understood him correctly. 

“I mean it. Your body is full of cortisol and epinephrine. Stress hormones,” he explained. “You need to be relieved of those.”

His fingertips trailed lightly over your arm, and you followed his touch with your eyes. 

“Use me. Let me offer you relief.”

You stood frozen in place, swallowing the breathless laugh that almost escaped your lips, as you noted the genuine look expressed on Spencer’s face.

His eyes bored into yours, the hazel of his irises altering into a darker shade of brown.

Tentatively, your hands moved up his body, and only then did his heartbeat quicken. Your fingers continued trailing upward until you gripped his collar, the fabric soft in your tight grip. His eyes don’t leave yours, mouth just slightly agape as you pull him in closer. 

Then you kiss him — hard.

*link to smut (pt. 2.5)

-`♡´-

The ventilation quietly hummed in the back of the motel room from the shower you had just taken. After the intimate moment on the beach, Spencer had convinced you to take him back to the motel you were staying at. “They’re all fast asleep. They haven’t noticed me leaving” he assured you. 

It didn’t matter anymore if they knew your whereabouts, you’ve told Spencer everything anyway. How Natalie has been your bestest friend in college. How you were tied to the hip. How you never left each other’s sight — except for that one night…

You had cried in his arms, and he had let you. He held you close as you lay in bed. He comforted you with statistics about guilt and trauma, as you told him why you went to that reunion that night. It marked the anniversary of the week Natalie had died. Of the week you received an email from her: a final note. Telling you by the time you read this, she’d be long gone.

You hadn’t gone to her funeral. Didn’t even receive an invitation. You hadn’t been in contact with Natalie ever since she had called you from that party. You’d picked her up that night, taken her to the hospital, and left the second the doctors told you she’d be fine. 

You didn’t tell Spencer this part. You only told him that you expected there to be a memorial at the reunion, a way for you to have a proper goodbye. Your heart had stopped in the same way it had years ago when you walked into the bar and found that there was nothing. Nothing but loud music, colored lights, and drunk people. It was as if Natalie had never existed.

Your ears had rang. Your breaths came in short pants. With all your might, you suppressed the rising panic attack, using the last bit of strength to walk toward the three men you’d spotted from the start. The men that had done this to Natalie. Who had killed her, although not with their hands. 

Naive little birdie, Natalie had always called you. The sweet nickname now sounded more haunting as the three men stared you up and down. Your heart beated in expectancy, but then you noticed their dilated pupils. The way their breath reeked of hard liquor. Their lips still glossy with alcohol as they gave you a sluggish smirk. They hadn’t even recognized you. Naive little birdie.

Spencer had squeezed your hand, bringing you back to reality. “It’s okay.”

You had shaken your head, the memories tearing apart into small pieces in your mind. Quickly, you had finished your story, telling him that after that moment, you didn’t have it in you to walk past everyone again. Too terrified to see the laughs on their faces. Instead, you marched straight to the emergency exit.

The both of you stayed quiet after your confession. The air hung heavy with silence, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable.

“We need to talk about it at some point,” Spencer brings up.

You nodded. Spencer had been kind to you, given you the time to process, but the conversation was inevitable. You hadn’t killed anyone. So someone else had.

“Someone is trying to blame this on you. Someone wants to see you gone,” he softly whispers, his voice cracking with emotion.

The subject made you feel uncomfortable. You had thought about it before. Plenty of times, actually. But every time you did what you did best: ignore it. It wasn’t as easy to disregard when someone was looking you in the eyes, their pain so visible.

Still, you shrugged, brushing aside his comment. “It doesn’t matter. I wanted them gone, and now they are. It doesn’t matter how.”

“It does matter.” 

The rise in his voice made you flinch, and he instantly cupped your hands, pulling you back to him. “‘M sorry. I’m just scared.”

It was strange to hear someone be so honest. Spencer had been honest with you from the start. He’d said that he would protect you, and he was still keeping to that promise.

You moved your hand to your hair, wanting to twirl  the locks as a nervous habit, but then realized most of it was cut short. 

“I guess we can tell your team tomorrow,” you settle on saying, swallowing as you envision their dirty looks.

“Really?” He raised his eyebrows in a questioning gaze, leaning forward as he hid the small, grateful smile that lingered his lips.

You chuckled, feeling relieved by his response. You nodded your head against the pillow. “Really.”

The room returned to silence. Surely now deeply comfortable. No more questions that lingered in the air. The back of Spencer’s fingers lazily traced the side of your face. His warm hand trailed down the skin. His eyes flickered over your face, expression filled with awe as he grazed his fingers through your short locks. “Your hair looks pretty.”

A soft snort escaped you, “It looks horrendous.”

He responded with a breathy laugh, and you can’t help but smile widely back at him. 

“I think this suits you better. Not that I didn’t like your other haircut,” he quickly corrected himself, making you chuckle. “I like your face. The longer hair hid it. Now I can see you.”

Your cheeks warmed. Spencer did see you. Not just your appearance — he saw you. He had seen you from the moment your eyes had locked when he and his team had found you and brought you to the station. He had seen you before you’d even seen yourself. The thought of stopping your hiding, your fleeing, didn’t seem so scary anymore. Not when staying would bring you to him. 

The comfortable silence was interrupted by a low rumble, followed by a louder one. Spencer’s hand slipped from your hair as he placed it on his stomach. “I’m sorry.”

A bright, childlike laugh bubbled from your chest. Spencer snickered, grinning from ear to ear. He bashfully brushed his fingers through his messy curls. “I havent really eaten since we’ve gotten here.”

“Let me grab you a snack.” You crawled out of bed, legs still a little shaky as you stood up. 

“Do you have snacks in the room?

“No, but there’s a vending machine outside.”

He propped himself up against the pillows, his eyes following you as you made your way over to the bathroom where your clothes were bundled up on the tile floor. He let out a small sigh as you walked out of sight.

He naturally timed the minutes till the door creaked open again. You had washed yourself up in the sink, some water droplets still clinging to your neck. Your hair less frizzy now that it had been dampened. You wore your clothes from earlier, though one could tell they had been taken off of you multiple times.

“I’ll be right back,” you promised, grabbing the key and some coins from the cabinet. And he believed you.

-

The door shut behind you, a cold breeze immediately hugging your skin. The LED lamps brightened the exterior corridor. The vending machine at the end of the walkway shone even brighter, catching your attention.

You walked straight toward it, curiously peering into the transparent door. You pressed the numbers for trail mix and beef jerky — something that could pass for dinner. You inserted the coin, impatiently bending down in front of the opening.

The rumbling sound of the machine was followed by a whoosh of air.

Then a sharp bang echoed through your skull.

Then you were gone.

-`♡´-

Shadows of bright lights flickered in front of your eyes, giving the illusion that you rubbed them too hard.

You forced your eyelids open, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were lying down, you would’ve stumbled. With effort, you scrambled yourself up into a sitting position, taking in your surroundings.

Four tiled walls enclosed you. The room resembled a lab: a sink with a counter to the left, an iron door on the wall right in front of you, and an air vent to the right. 

A bitter odor entered your airways, making you scrunch your nose. You turned your head to the left — a little too quickly — the throbbing pain catching up with you, making you groan in pain. 

Your hands shot to the sides of your face, trying to hold your head still in an attempt to stop the room from spinning. 

A warm liquid coated your fingers. You pulled your hand back and saw it was stained crimson. A gasp left you, followed by a string of whimpers as you felt yourself growing faint. 

You spotted a red first aid kit on top of the counter. On your knees, you slumped toward it, taking several breaks despite the distance only being ten feet. 

With clammy hands, you clutched the counter, inhaling a deep breath before dragging yourself up. Your body hovered over the table, and you reached your arm out to pull the kit closer to you. You fumbled with the lock on the box. “Open up, please,” you begged to whatever God that was listening.

The acid smell grew stronger, and it was then that you noticed the small vial next to the first aid kit. Its contents contained a light yellow solid. Cyanide — poison. 

The metal door creaked open, the sound stinging straight through your skull. You cried out as you fell to the ground. You backed away to the nearest wall, curling your knees to your chest just in time for the door to fully open. “Naive little birdie. You’re awake.”

PART 2.5

[saltynsassy31]

Full disclaimer, I have to read any of the fics written for Shockwave and the kids yet as I've been busy and off Tumblr for a bit for my own mental health lol

But I recently saw a photo of an abandoned carousel in some underground area filled with puddles and it reminded me of that one deleted scene from Detroit: Become Human where the Jerry's make a broken carousel work again for Alice and they all just watched her happily play on it as the world around them crumbled.

And, with that thought, it also reminded me of Shockwave and the kids and I simply HAD to write a small drabble fic of it. Sorry if it isn't accurate for the characters or the story already made, but I hope it's enjoyed regardless :3

And, I hope, with all the angst going on, this fluffy story will satisfy yall a bit XD

[This is the post I saw that inspired me to write this, if anyone wants a visual of the place: https://www.instagram.com/reel/DGog_W_vDiR/?igsh=b3FsYm50enJhM3ln ]

AU belongs to @keferon

Carousel

~☆~

As the days went by, the situation they all found themselves in was slowly starting to get far too real. It was fun, at first, running around abandoned buildings and scavenging for whatever they could find, spending time with their newly acquired aquatic dad friend who kept them safe and well fed.

But then things started to show up and it scared them. Shockwave tried to avoid the areas with the most floating bodies, the children having seen enough of that (and he hoped they hadn't seen any they would recognise), but every now and then something would float up and startle them. Other times they'd run into bigger problems while scavenging and they had far too many close calls for Shockwave's liking.

They tend to keep themselves entertained, for the most part. Shockwave only occasionally indulged. But, usually, he could simply gently float on the surface of the water and let the kids tire themselves out. However, they've become more quiet lately.

It was hard to tell what caused it. Could be a myriad of things, as listed before, maybe it was finally starting to dawn on them how the situation was far from ideal. Maybe it was the conversation they had with that Orca - Jazz, was it? Shockwave couldn't tell, and it bothered him.

He missed their lively chatter (it still happened, but few and far between). A part of him was starting to wonder if the humans who called him out on the fact that this wasn't normal behaviour for human children were right, a small pang of regret reaching the back of his mind.

But he shook those thoughts away. Now wasn't the time. Nothing about their situation was normal anyway, he was already providing more than enough for them to survive this cruel world.

Shockwave was aggressively pulled out of his drifting thoughts by an ear piercing screech that immediately put him on high alert.

“Guys! Guys! Look!” He heard Skids say. Turning to look at him, he followed where the boy was pointing at.

It looked to be some kind of fair or theme part, it was a little hard to tell. Half of it was submerged, but there were some areas in which the water had receded. Shockwave relaxed once he deemed the situation safe, but still gave a small scrutinising glare at Skids for causing unnecessary concern - which went, of course, completely ignored.

“Oh wow, it looks pretty banged up, huh?” Tc noted, crawling closer to the edge of Shockwave's back to get a better look.

“But there might still be some things left over. You know how much they tend to sell in these places? And now we can just snag them!” Warp argued, already getting excited at the thought.

“Do we really need more useless things to carry around?” Trailbreaker argued, the bag he carried strangely heavier on his back.

“There are other things we could do there.” Skids quickly chimed in. “We could check out some of the games they have.”

“Would there be any still working?”

“Carnival games easy to fix, Soundwave up to the task.”

They all turned to look at Soundwave, seemingly to silently fall into an agreement.

Warp turned to face Shockwave, clasping his hands together as he pleaded. “Can we go there? Pretty pleaaaase?” Before he could even answer, the others had joined them.

He wasn't going to say no. This was the exact type of fun distraction they needed, maybe it would help them go back to their usual, energetic selves. So the theatrics were unnecessary. Still, he couldn't help the small amusement it brought him. He pretended to think it over, as if he didn't already have their answer.

“Hmm, I don't know…”

Those simple words were enough to make them all Start to plead harder, making their eyes as big as possible, throwing promises he knew they'd never actually follow through.

That broke the façade he was trying to play up, causing him to laugh. “Alright, alright. We can go.” The kids erupted into celebratory cheers, hugging each other and jumping on Shockwave's back. “But don't stray so far where I can't reach you, okay?”

They all nodded, but he only had trust in some of them to actually obey his orders.

Regardless, he swam over to the abandoned park and waited until they had slid off of him before crawling over onto land. The ground was still pretty wet, so it made it easier for him to slide around and follow them, keeping himself to the more deeper puddles when possible.

He watched as they all went to different directions with their own, small group. Tc and Warp, always tied to the hip, ran over to some of the stands that still had some prizes hanging. Windcharger and Trailbreaker followed Damus as he ran to play some of the games that didn't require power to work. And Skids and Soundwave went…

Where did they go?

Panic immediately followed the realisation. Shockwave stood up straighter and began to spin his head around in search of the two missing kids. The others didn't seem to have noticed their absence, too enthralled in their own activity.

He was about to start calling when he heard a familiar boisterous voice call from not too far. “Guys! Over here! Come see what me and Soundwave just discovered!”

Immediately, all of the attention was on Skids who had a smile so wide Shockwave was worried he'd hurt himself with it. The others looked at each other briefly before making their way over, Damus hesitating a bit before putting down the fishing rod he held and following the rest.

Shockwave did so as well, to the best of his abilities anyway. The further they went, the tighter the space became and less water reached the surface for him to easily slide around. He wanted to voice his complaint of them going too far, like he had explicitly told them not to before coming here (and really, he thought Warp would have disobeyed first before Soundwave. Skids made sense, but him?) But before he could even think of what to say, Skids noticed his struggle and seemed to remember something.

“Oh, right! Almost forgot.” He jogged over to the mer shark and gently grabbed at one of his fingers to guide him elsewhere. “There's an opening that takes you directly to the area we found. You have to swim underneath some rubble, but it should fit you.”

The boy took him to some dilapidated attraction of the park, it was too broken to tell what it used to be, but it did create an opening that allowed Shockwave to fit through perfectly fine. “Just swim straight ahead and it should take you to the area, we'll meet you there.”

Immediately, Shockwave didn't like that idea, and he didn't need to voice his thoughts for the teen to catch on, his glare doing the job just fine. “It'll be fine, don't worry! It's not that far. Less than a minute, probably less than a second for you since you're so big you'll just have to slide in and out. Besides, there's nothing here, the place is completely barren.”

Shockwave was still unconvinced.

Skids took to pleading. “Please! It'll be quick, I promise you. And worth it too! It's the exact thing we've been needing, and Soundwave put a lot of work on it. I know you don't like leaving us alone for even a second, but give it a chance?”

They stared at each other for a moment, Skids making his eyes as wide and innocent as possible and Shockwave hoping the stubborn teen would dispel this idea with his glare alone.

In the end, Skids guppy eyes were far too powerful even for a great shak such as Shockwave. And the kid was right, wasn't this what he wanted for them to begin with?

He let out a heavy sigh of defeat and reluctantly agreed to it. “Fine. I trust you, but if anything shows up–”

“We don't engage with it and call for you, yes, I know. Now go! Soundwave is waiting!” Skids ushered Shockwave to submerge himself into the large opening with the wave of his hands and only joined back with the others once he could no longer see the large mer.

One relief Shockwave had was that the tunnel formed was large enough that he could easily turn around and pop back out if he heard any of the kids in danger, though it also lacked any proper escape for him as it only had one direction for him to go. Straight ahead or backwards. 

But Skids was right in saying the trip was short, he could already hear the muffled voices of his children. Soon enough, he found himself resurfacing, the lively chatter being the first thing his senses picked up on.

When the children heard the splash of water, they all turned to look towards the source of the noise, their excitement almost blindingly radiat in contrast to the dark, murky room they found themselves in.

The place was closed off by fallen buildings that created a sort of cave around them, plenty of fauna already making its home here. It was fairly empty as well, save for the large, round attraction in the middle of the room. It had horses stuck to poles inside it, a dim pink and gold decorating the whole thing, the paintings that littered it had long since faded and it was hard to tell what it once was.

“Okay, you're here, good.” Skids turned to Soundwave, who was standing next to what looked to be a control panel. “Soundwave, would you do us the honours?”

The other teen nodded, bending down to start pulling at some wires in place of pressing the buttons offered. Warp scoffed, crossing his arms and looking skeptically at his friend. “There's no power here, how in the world are you going to get it to work? I swear, if you brought us all the way here for nothing I–”

Before he could finish his sentence, a blast of music and light echoed loudly around the empty space, causing everyone to flinch back and cover their ears. Shockwave nervously looked around, worried that the loud noise might have attracted some unwanted attention. Once the shock faded, Skids ran up to Soundwave and gestured proudly at the now working carousel.

“Ta-da!”

“Wh…how is this possible!?” Warp questioned, looking at Soundwave for answers, to not only be ignored, but shoved around by the other kids who ran towards the attraction. “Seriously?! Is no one else even a little bit concerned on how this is possible?”

Tc placed a hand over his shoulder, bringing his attention to him. “Warp, just enjoy the miracle. When are we going to get another chance like this?”

Warp could only grumble. Tc was right, they wouldn't, not for a long time. That didn't mean he had to accept it though.

Shockwave watched as they all walked over and picked their favourite horse, Tc and Skids fighting over the same blue one before Trailbreaker broke their fight up and offered his to Tc, walking up to help Damus up and sit with him instead. Shockwave observed the way Soundwave continued to pick at the control panel and looked up at the other children, waiting for their confirmation that they were ready before clicking something and closing the panel. As soon as he did that, the carousel began to slowly move, the horses bobbing up and down in gentle motions, causing the kids to excitedly cheer.

Soundwave stepped on the moving platform while it was still picking up speed and sat on a random horse near Windcharger. Although not as vocal as the others, he was clearly enjoying it.

Shockwave couldn't quite get what was so entertaining about the thing. It was slow, even after it picked up some speed, and the music was painful to the ears. But that didn't quite matter, did it? They were happy, and they were having fun.

It clearly was something they knew about before the tsunami, before their civilization fell apart. A simple joy of life that they missed.

And, in a world dimmed by tragedy and destruction, where at every corner something threatens their very existence, isn't that all they could ask for?

So, in a small moment of peace, Shockwave let himself relax. He bent forward and rested his chin over his crossed arms and watched as his children sang along with the screechy music, bouncing on their fake horses and pretending they were in some high chase in their little imaginary world.

In this dreary reality, even the artificial light of a broken past could make it all worth it. 

[telephoniii]

WHY WOULD A FELLOW WANT A GIRL LIKE HER?

☆彡 in which malleus and leona fight for your affections

leona kingscholar x gn!reader & malleus draconia x gn!reader

word counter: 4K

warnings: reader is prefect, cursing, love triangle, possible ooc

a/n: based off of the song “stepsister’s lament” from cinderella the musical— hence the title. one of my favorite works!! I had fun writing this!! both mal and leona are capital p PETTY and I'm living for it. i hope you enjoy :>

No matter how much he claims he doesn't care, Leona finds himself hissing at the sight of you and Malleus together. He wants to deny it so badly— but deep down he knows. 

He knows as he glares at you, sitting on a bench beside the fae, giggling and having a jolly old time. He’s well aware of what he’s feeling as he scoffs, telling the greedy hyena beside him that he’s returning to the dorm.

And he’s fully conscious as he lays in bed, staring at the ceiling; unable to get the image of you and that spiny horned reptile out of his head. 

He’s jealous. Envious. And any damn variation of the sort.

Out of all the people you could choose to spend your time with, you pick that slimy lizard?! 

Your taste is questionable—who’s he kidding? Absolutely awful. Really, going for the guy who doesn’t age? Ever think about how awkward it’s going to be when you’re getting hip pains and he still looks like a teenager? Hell, he’s not one for settling down but wouldn’t you at least want someone with the capacity of growing old together?!

What does that scaley little scumbag do for you anyway?

Sure, Malleus does gift you little trinkets you’ve mentioned in passing. Leona isn’t blind; he can see the way you light up at these gifts. He distinctly remembers seeing a dorky gargoyle keychain on your bag. It stank of that fae freak. 

Yet you seemed to adore the tiny statue, so much so that you went on a small rant about the history. To Leona’s surprise, he listened to every single word you had to say about it. Gargoyles are always way more interesting when it’s you talking about it. 

Though, everything involving you is more interesting nowadays… He had to resist the urge to sand that stupid little toy right then and there.

And he’s well aware of the ‘secret’ walks the two of you have at unholy times of the night, talking about whatever that overgrown lizard is interested in. The way you speak of it like nobody knows is irritating. Only an idiot wouldn’t pick up on it. 

Too bad NRC is full of idiots.

It’s not like it matters too much anyway. He doubts Malleus has the charisma to charm you. The guy isn’t invited to a whole lot of events for a reason. While Leona knows he can come off as a prick, he’s still a prince nonetheless. He was taught how to flatter and flirt— he remembers being surrounded by a bunch of bootlickers as a cub. 

He isn’t intimidated by Malleus’s magic all too much either. Although he’s more than sure you wouldn’t fall for a person solely based on their strength, Leona believes he could take on Malleus. The lizard is painfully predictable after all. 

Not to mention most of his ‘shows of power’ are akin to temper tantrums. If dueling wasn’t banned, that pathetic excuse of a dragon would be dragged in the mud by him.

Everything Malleus does for you, he could do better. He’s sure of it. 

Beneath the surface, is he scared of coming second place to yet another person? Terrified that he’ll always be the second-best choice? That all the time spent with you would never be more than that? Maybe. 

But those night terrors are lessened when he sees you approach— knowing he was the sole reason you were there. 

Leona feels his heart race as you sit beside him, casually talking about your day and whatever hijinks you got into. He worries you might hear just how fast it beats for you when you nap with him, laying your head on his chest. 

As he hears you mumble his name in your sleep, he feels reassured that he’s your one. 

I mean— why would someone as great as you ever want a flimsy, little lizard? Especially when he’s right here, ready to be your pillow in hard and happy times. 

~

A green thunderbolt struck through the sky. Coincidentally, you happened to be napping on Leona outside when this happened— shaking the both of you awake.

Did Malleus do this on purpose?… Of course not. He’s not immature enough to do that, unlike a certain lion he knows.

It’s not his fault that you two were cuddling outside when he was ‘testing’ out something with his thunder.

That doesn’t mean he was any less satisfied watching you get up and walk back to your dorm, leaving that mangy cat by himself.

He never understood what value you gained from hanging around someone as…unusual as Kingscholar. A ‘prince’ who lays around, sleeping the day away? What a joke! Wouldn’t you rather have a prince— better yet a ruler— who’s proactive in his kingdom?

That flappy street cat is better suited to accompany Grim rather than yourself. 

He doubts Kingscholar would hold open the door for you like he does! 

Malleus has heard it’s a human custom to do so; ever since then, he’s now perfected the art of swiftly rushing over to a door and slamming it open for you. It delights him when you giggle at his antics. He bets that idiotic lion would never be able to do that— Kingscholar barely moves anyway. It’s like he’s glued to that bed of his.

Kingscholar seems as though he’d let the door slam in your face. That alone just shows how superior Malleus is to him. 

Although, Kingscholar’s words of advice indeed seemed to matter to you quite a lot. Every time you had attracted chaos, you commonly turned to the lazy loaf and asked for his perspective. And each time, without fail, Mal had watched you take the prince’s suggestion in stride and use it.

It pains him to admit it, sometimes Kingscholar can be rather clever. Malleus is somewhat glad that said lion uses his intelligence to keep you safe.

He doesn’t know what, but something about Kingscholar’s mere existence seems to relax you. Malleus has seen you look at ease in a way he’s never witnessed before when you simply just lay beside the other student. He watches with envy as Kingscholar’s tail protectively wraps around your thigh. 

As long as you’re safe… Malleus supposes he can bear through you hanging out with the lion.

That won’t stop him from interrupting the two of you whenever he feels the time is right. Sudden bolts of thunder, random objects falling from the sky and hitting Kingscholar on the head, out-of-the-blue power outages…

It’s all fair play to him. You still get to hang out with that lazy excuse of a prince anyway.

It doesn’t matter too much to him— at least that’s what he tells himself. It’s not as though you’d leave him to hang out with Kingscholar; no, you’d never. 

You’ll stay, won’t you?

He’s sure of it as you walk beside him in the dead of night. Nobody else knows, nor do they need to as you two stroll along the campus. Seeing your enthusiastic smile next to him as you talk about your dreams fills him with unexplainable joy. Malleus fights the urge to hold your hand, interlocking your fingers with his.

You seemed to have read his mind— you always do understand him like no other— as you glanced down at your hands. A small giggle leaves your lips before you inch your hand closer to his.

“Can we…?” You hum with hopeful and amused eyes.

Wordlessly, Malleus indulges now with your consent. The warmth of your hand compared to the polarizing coldness of his made him feel dizzy. In a good way. 

You’ll never leave him. At least not when you're hand in hand together like this.

~

“Man I’m starving— Hurry it up, henchman!” A familiar, squeaky voice demanded as Grim pushed on your shoulder. 

“Patience, patience. This is very important. It can determine my mood for the rest of the day.” You murmured, standing strong despite Grim’s efforts. Narrowing your eyes, you stared at the different lunch options. 

What were you going to eat today?

“Prefect has a point. Your nutrition affects the way you function.” Jack shrugs behind Grim, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“You say that like they’re going to eat something healthy.” Ace yawns, stretching out his arm and lightly hitting Deuce. “Hurry it up, Prefect! Clock’s ticking!”

“Fine! Fine!” Quickly, you grabbed the same thing you’ve gotten for the past week. A series of groans emerged from behind you.

“All that time just to get that?” Ace crossed his arms, giving you an unamused look. 

“Okay, I’ll get something else then—“

“—Nononononono!” Practically everyone behind you yelled in a panic.

“Just go sit down ‘n secure us a table already!” Epel huffs, to which you happily comply.

You scout out the area, looking for a free table to sit at. Geez, was the cafeteria always this packed?

A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you spot a familiar, robotic Shroud waving to you from a table.

“Prefect!” Ortho chirps, his voice synthesizer going a pitch up. Just as you were about to walk over, you felt your blazer being pulled on from the back. Suddenly, you were yanked away.

“Ay! Watch it—!” You grab the hand that was pulling on you, turning around to come face to face with a smug Ruggie.

“Leona’s callin’ you.”

You rolled your eyes.

“He didn’t want to send a text or call? He just had to send a goon to come and get me?” 

Ruggie nodded with a cheeky grin.

“Yep.”

Groaning, you turn towards Ortho and wave him goodbye, signaling that you are going to leave. “Lead the way, hyena.”

And with that, you found yourself walking through the hallways on your way to Savanaclaw. You hope Ortho told the others about you leaving. It kinda slipped your mind to tell them.

You snapped out of your thoughts as you heard munching coming from Ruggie— “Wait, that's my lunch you’re eating! How’d you even…!? When did you…?!”

It also slipped your mind that Ruggie is both a great thief and greedy when it comes to food.

“Shishishishi… you left yourself open, Prefect! I’m sure Leona will get you something else to eat. He always does.”

“Always is a stretch.” You grumble, watching Ruggie eat your food. “Is it?” You didn’t want to ponder his question. 

Instead, you turn your gaze ahead of you and focus on walking… At least that’s what you would be doing if you didn’t walk face-first into somebody. 

“Gah! I’m so sorry—“ “Child of man.” 

Only one person used that nickname for you. Looking up, you were met with Malleus’s amused smile. 

“Impeccable timing,” The fae seemed happy to see you. You could see his fangs the way he was smiling. Ruggie was unsettled but thankful that Malleus was ignoring his presence. “Would you accompany me for lunch? Lilia, Sebek, and Silver will be there too, of course.” 

You were about to accept right away before you felt a light hit to your side. Ruggie sneakily elbowed you. Before you could curse at him, he gave you a look and— Oh, right. You were going with him to spend lunch with Leona already. A small frown made its way on your lips as you turned back to Malleus.

Great sevens, it was hard to turn him down. Especially when he was all cheery like this. 

Fortunately— or unfortunately, you didn’t have to. A roaring voice from behind you did it for you.

“Herbivore’s coming with me. They agreed to it already.” Leona huffed, a scowl clear on his face as he approached. Ruggie seemed surprised.

“Leona?! What’re you—“ “Did they now? I didn’t exactly hear them say no to my proposal though.” Malleus interrupted Ruggie, whose ears went flat against his head. 

“They don’t need to. They’ve already got plans.” The lion growled, narrowing his eyes at the other third year. 

Malleus stepped forward, the fae’s irritation growing. “Why do you insist on speaking for them so vigorously? My dear child of man, don’t let him dictate your choices—“

“I’m not doing shit. Just stating what they already agreed to.” Leona also stepped forward, refusing to back down. 

You were starting to get worried and turned your head to murmur something to Ruggie. Except Ruggie wasn’t there. The hyena snuck off already. Bastard. A voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Well, Prefect? Who would you rather accompany? Kingscholar— who’ll likely laze around the whole lunch— or I?”

“Damn lizard…” Leona grumbled under his breath before shaking his head and facing you. “Well? The choice is yours. I wouldn’t force you to do anything.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze flickering between the two. “Well… I—“

Before you could finish, you were interrupted by a loud ring.

The lunch bell had rung. It was time to head back to class.

~

“Are you doing okay?” You ask, shifting closer to Leona. He lets out a small grunt in response, his eyes closed as he sprawled out in his usual spot inside the Botanical Garden. 

For as tough as Leona was, he was unusually soft when tired. He carried this relaxing air around him. That no matter what happens, you’ll be okay with him around. The thought makes you smile as you tilt your head at him.

He was also kinda cute when he laid there like that—

“Quit staring.”

Leona abruptly huffed out. Blinking in surprise, you soon realize that one of his eyes was cracked open. A tiny blush finds its way on your cheeks while he stutters out an apology. The lion’s lips soon form a smug grin.

“You were looking at me pretty attentively, herbivore…” His words are slow and agonizing. Leona’s tail swishes up and down as he leans in closer. Your eyes widen as he comes mere inches away from your face; from your lips.

“…Got something you want to tell me?” You feel your breath hitched at the sudden, feather-light touch of Leona’s hand against yours. Just as you were about to respond—

“Roi du Lions!” 

The romantic atmosphere Leona so carefully built went down the drain, along with his motivation. A groan left his lips.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt.” Trey soon appears behind Rook, an apologetic expression on his face. You shake your head, standing up. 

“You’re good! What’re you two up to?” 

Leona had an annoyed look on his face as you engaged with the other students. He tried to ignore and drown out everyone’s voices. At least he was, till Rook caught his attention.

“During an exploration for new ingredients that we could bring to our club, Roi de Dragons made a magical appearance.“ You raised a brow while Leona’s ear flicked.

Trey let out a small chuckle at Rook’s dramatic storytelling.

“Malleus just asked us to find something for him in the Botanical Garden.” 

Leona’s scowl deepened. That damn lizard.

“Maybe we could help! What’re you looking for?” You offered.

Trey soon fiddled with his pocket, searching for something. Shortly after, he pulls out a piece of paper. “A… toy? It looks like this. Malleus said he last had it here.”

You made an “O” shape with your mouth. “His virtual pet! Gao-Gao!” Trey lets you hold the paper, letting you get a closer look at the drawing that resembled Malleus’s Tamogachi. 

“I know what it looks like, I’ve got no idea where he could’ve left it though…” Soon enough, you, Trey, and Rook are scouring the Botanical Gardens for this little toy. Leona finds this stupid. 

Slightly bitter about his ruined moment, he lays back down to take a nap.

That’s when his ear flinched after hitting something hard. Turning around with a displeased look, Leona’s eyes narrowed.

There, in his favorite sleeping spot was Malleus’s dumb toy —which wasn’t there literally minutes ago might he add. Picking it up, Leona contemplated crushing the small electronic. However, as he held it, the lion was quick to notice a bit of ink getting on his fingers. 

He turned the Tamogachi around. Written on the back with a blue pen was “Kingscholar :)”

Oh, that fucking Draconia did this on purpose.

~

Sitting up from your bed, you rub your eyes. With an annoyed groan, you get up and go to the door— trying not to wake Grim in the process. You could feel the ghost watching with curiosity. Not that you blamed them. Hell, you were curious too!

Who was knocking at 2 in the morning!?

The sun wasn’t even up. Ramshackle probably looked horrid, inside and outside, at this time.

You weren’t looking too great either: bags beneath your eyes, saggy pajamas, slouched posture… Vil would die on the spot if he saw you. Internally, you prayed it was anybody but him. And thank the Sevens that your prayer was answered.

You titled your head in confusion at the one in front of you.

“Malleus?” He smiled back at you. As though his appearance on your doorstep at the crack ass of dawn was the most normal thing ever.

“Greetings.”

You shook your head, still waking up and trying to make sense of the situation. “Do… Do you need something?”

Now he looked confused. Which only heightened your confusion.  The fae furrowed his brows. “Did you not want to talk, child of man?” 

“I like talking with you! Just, preferably not this early in the morning— Look, why are you here? Did you just want to hang out, Tsunotarou?” You tried being as polite as possible, but damn you were tired. 

Malleus looked just as lost as you.

“…Perhaps you’ve forgotten about the letter you sent me?” You look to the side, slightly scrunching your nose as you try to remember what ‘letter’ he was referring to. 

“Uhh— When did I send this letter?” You give him an apologetic smile. It wasn’t too far-fetched; the idea of you giving him an invitation to Ramshackle. 

However, you feel as though you would’ve remembered if you had actually done it. And you would’ve hoped that past you would be smart enough to set your invitation time to anytime BUT 2 AM. 

“I recall receiving this letter yesterday, in the library,” Malleus explained, his hand reaching into his pocket to find said paper. “You slipped it to me when you walked by—“

The fae grabbed his invitation, only for him to be met with sand that trickled down his hand.

“—with Kingscholar…” He fell silent as he stared at the tiny particles in his hand. You seemed to catch on quickly, giving him a sympathetic look as your eyes flickered between the sand and him.

“Tsunotarou, did you see me give you this letter?” 

The way he averted his eyes to the side, his pale cheeks faintly turning pink from embarrassment, already gave you the answer you needed. It’d be cute if not for the circumstances. As expected, Malleus shook his head.

“My apologies… I assumed it was you since I had acquired it right after you had waved at me and it was an invitation to Ramshackle.”

You let out a small chuckle before brushing off the sand that still dirtied his hand. “Don’t sweat it. It’s not your fault that Leona is… well Leona and he does stuff like this.” Offering Malleus a smile, your hand soon intertwined with his. The blush on his cheeks subtly brightened.

“Well, you did come all this way just to hang out. It’d be a shame to turn you away now. Here, come.” You kick the door to open it wider and pull the fae inside Ramshackle. Leading him to the couch, you could gauge that Malleus was amused by your antics. Practically dragging one of the top mages in the world by the arm into your dorm…

“Let me just freshen up first! Wait here— I’ll be right back. Then we could watch some movies or whatever.” You shrugged with a grin before running upstairs to wash up. Malleus gave you a polite and happy wave as you exited.

Once you left, he let out a sigh and leaned back on the couch. His hands balled into fists as he felt more sand pooling in his pockets. A green bolt of lightning struck from the sky.

That measly fucking lion.

~

You let out an aggravated sigh. Did they not think you realized what both of them were doing to each other? Between the Tamagotchi incident and the whole letter debacle a few nights ago, they were being so obvious.

Jeez, you get that they had a rivalry going on and whatnot, but why did they have to involve you? Fed up and rambling, you look to your side at Grim to get his thoughts on the matter. He sat next to you in the kitchen, munching away on a can of tuna.

“They’re getting really annoying! Stealing my henchmen’s time like that…” A chuckle left your lips at Grim’s bitterness, causing you to pet him on the head. 

“Mhm. I just want them to quit it— at least around me. I’m good friends with both and care a lot about them… Also, don’t talk with a mouthful.” You lightheartedly huff, getting up from your seat to grab Grim another can of tuna as he was beginning to finish his first. He usually ate two to three cans before bedtime.

“Why don’t ya just tell 'em?” The cat curiously asked with a tilt of the head, staring at you. You let out a snort. “Yeah, just tell two extremely powerful mages with an intense hatred for one another to stop. Like that’ll work.”

Grim let out an annoyed groan at your sarcasm. You opened a new can of tuna and slid it to him. His frown quickly disappeared as he began to dig in.

“Eh— sounds like Leona and Malleus could use some quality time together.” Grim offhandedly comments, chewing away on his food. 

“What did I say about talking with a mouthful, man?” You roll your eyes before falling silent, pondering his words. Quality time… Leona… Malleus…

“Grim! You’re a genius!”

~

“Herbivore, what the hell.” Leona’s tone was unamused, giving you a deadpan look.

“I thought it’d be nice if we hung out all together! As a group?” 

The two men stared daggers at each other across the small, dusty table in Ramshackle. With a nervous chuckle, your eyes flickered between the two as you slowly passed out cards for some random board game that Idia lent you.

Leona and Malleus didn’t take their eyes off one another. It was at this moment you were starting to think that Grim, in fact, was not a genius.

These two were definitely going to kill each other.

[dearru]

do u guys know that one song by doja cat that goes “like fortnite ima need ur skin.” that’s what inspired this. hope u enjoy. | mlist

imagine you, an aspiring singer, starting to date the wildly influential streamer, kodzuken. you two are the definition of a picture perfect couple, and you start to make lots of content together. as a result, your career begins to take off, and kenma’s content grows in popularity,

everything’s great— until it isn’t. the relationship ends up crashing and burning in an embarrassingly public breakup.

people are devastated. video essays are made. diehard fans even claim the split is the equivalent of “parents divorcing.”

it’s a whole ordeal.

but as time passes, the wounds heal. and in true internet fashion, it becomes old news. some people still whisper about how they believe you two are soulmates, but for the most part, kenma’s chat and your comment section don’t get flooded with invasive questions about whether you two will get back together anymore.

fast forward to two years or so after the breakup, you and kenma end up growing in your respective careers. his several business ventures have grown exponentially, and you’re now selling out stadiums.

kenma doesn’t stream as much as he used to when you two were together, but he chalks it up to having to juggle so many different commitments now. fans speculate as to whether or not that’s the true reason, but as a collective, they agree that they’ll take whatever content they can get from the elusive creator.

despite not streaming as frequently, kenma still likes to indulge his audience every once in a while by hopping online. normally, he likes to decide what to play, but every once in a while, he’ll let chat decide.

tonight is one of those nights.

on a whim, he gives in to requests for him to boot up fortnite— an old favorite of his— for the first time in months.

big mistake.

the second he opens the once beloved game, he gets jumpscared by something that even his worst nightmares couldn’t have fathomed.

you.

everywhere.

to his horror, and the chat’s delight, he finds that you’ve become the poster child for fortnite’s newest campaign. your face is on the menu screen, banners of you flash in bright colors, and you’re plastered everywhere in the item shop.

they say men are constantly haunted by the ghost of their first love, and in a cruel twist of fate, it’s a saying that has become ironically true for kenma as he realizes that epic games has made you into a fucking skin.

he debates the consequences of throwing his pc into a wall, but his screen flashes with an overly excitable chat faster than he can make a decision. old fans are freaking out, new gen fans are wondering what all the fuss is about, and someone donates just to type “YOU’RE FUCKED.”

kenma has half the mind to laugh as the notification illuminates his face because he knows the donor is right.

he’s not an idiot. he knows that you’re popular now, but to be so famous that you have your own skin? he’s in absolute disbelief. there’s no way the universe hates him this much. it’s bad enough that you’re on every headline and radio station. now you’re in his favorite video game?!?!

he is so unbelievably, irrevocably fucked.

—a/n: i think that kenma’s viewers are evil and they all band together and emote on kenma with ur skin whenever they see him online.

—a/n #2: has anyone written abt this concept before. pls lmk. i would love to read it bc i giggled so hard when the thought popped in my head HAHAHA.

—a/n #3: guys i don’t play fortnite, watch streamers, or write for kenma at all so pls don’t hate on me ok thx love u

[houseofaegon]

SKINNY DIPPING pt. 1 ✩ Wally Clark

Pairings: Wally Clark x Fem!reader

Warnings: +18 SMUT MINORS DNI. very slow burn. semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, heavy sexual tension, explicit dirty talk, praising, degradation, skinny dipping in a public pool, possesiveness/jealousy, light choking, rough gripping & mandhandling, overstimulation, wally being a cocky little shit, risk of getting caught, begging, breeding kink. wally whimpering???? (god have mercy)

Summary: For what feels like an eternity, Y/n and Wally have been nothing more than just friends. but that changes one reckless night when they decide to cross skinny dipping off their "100 things to do before crossing over" bucket list. Teasing and meaningless flirting turn heated, and the tension that has been simmering between them finally snaps. Under the moonlit water, boundaries blur, and their friendship is completely wrecked, in the best possible way.

Author's note: God bless Milo Manheim!!!!!!!!!! I love this idea of having a bucket list of things they want to do before crossing over. It might be cool to make it into a series. idk. We'll see. :) For now, enjoy!! I hope you guys like it. <3 xoxo, nai.

Word count: 1714

Song choices: lose control - teddy swims, tear you apart - she wants revenge, closer - nine inch nails, flawless - the neighbourhood, do i wanna know? - arctic monkeys, TiO - zayn.

masterlist. part 1. part 2.

    ⊹             ⊹            ⊹             ⊹            ⊹          ⊹             ⊹             ⊹

Wally had been wandering the halls of the school, bored out of his mind, his thoughts drifting aimlessly as he just tried to make it through another day—not that he ever expected much on a normal one, at least. But then, there were those days. The ones that turned into trouble. The kind of trouble that you made happen.

It didn't really take much to turn an average boring day into something unforgettable when you were involved. You were the life of the party. You and Wally? Every single time you two were together, trouble seemed to follow.

And today? Today was no different.

You had both made a promise long ago: make eternity fun. It was a pact, a way to deal with the fact that you two were dead, with no going back to your old lives. So, you'd sworn to make the most of every single day, even if it meant causing chaos along the way.

You'd even written down an entire bucket list with him. Wally named it "100 things to do before crossing over." You two hadn't really crossed off many of the things you'd written down; some of them were not very possible, given the fact that you two couldn't really leave the school grounds. But that didn't stop you from trying to make every day feel like it mattered.

After walking aimlessly around the school, Wally finally spotted you, sprawled out on the bleachers of the football field. The sun was making your skin glow, and despite the fact that you couldn't tan anymore, you still seemed to soak up every single ray as if you were trying to relieve the feeling of it. One arm draped over your eyes, one leg over the other. Wally smiled; you always found a way to look effortlessly cool and beautiful, even in moments like this.

Wally climbed up the steps, settling on the one just below you, his eyes studying you. "We're gonna have field day in an hour," he said, his voice light. "Mr. Martin wants to do something...different. A bonfire or whatever. I don't know. Rhonda told me."

But you didn't respond. Your silence made him arch an eyebrow.

"You good?" he asked, his tone shifting to a more serious now. He wasn't too used to you being so quiet.

You opened your eyes, lazily glancing at him. “Just thinking,” you murmured, your voice soft.

“Dangerous,” he teased, though he could tell something was off. You smiled at him, rolling your eyes, but he noticed they didn't have that usual sparkle.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked again, a little more worried now.

You propped yourself up, your gaze flickering to the school building for a moment before focusing back on him. “Yeah,” you said, your voice steadier this time. “I’ve just been thinking about that list we made.”

“The one with a hundred things we’re supposed to do before crossing over?” Wally asked, smirking. “We’re halfway through, but there’s still plenty of time left.”

He watched your expression closely, trying to figure out what was going through your head, but you were unreadable as ever.

You shook your head. “We haven’t really crossed off much…” You trailed off for a second, your gaze flicking to the sky before you let out a sigh. “I just feel like... days are getting boring, Wally.”

He tilted his head. “Well, let’s do something not boring, then. Something stupid.”

“Define stupid.” You raised an eyebrow.

Wally’s lips curled into that signature cocky grin. The one that always meant he was about to take things to another level.

“Number 16,” he said, his eyes gleaming.

“Do you expect me to remember?” You shot back, trying to act nonchalant, but there was a flutter of excitement in your chest.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Skinny dipping, dumbass.”

You froze for a moment, processing his words. Your mind raced, the idea catching you off guard. It was reckless, a little insane—but totally on brand for the two of you.

"You're serious?" you asked, staring at him with a mix of disbelief.

Wally leaned forward slightly, his voice low, his gaze burning with that familiar mischievous fire. “Dead serious.”

You couldn’t help it. A wicked smile spread across your face as you locked eyes with him. It was just a stupid thing to do. Just another one of your meaningless games. No harm in it, right?

"You're insane," you muttered under your breath, pushing yourself off the bleacher to stand right in front of him. You looked down at him, your gaze meeting his with a challenge in your eyes.

Wally just shrugged. “Yeah, well, eternity wouldn’t be fun if we weren’t at least a little bit insane.” His eyes traced the curve of your body, the unspoken tension between you both suddenly feeling palpable, thick in the air.

You swallowed, suddenly aware of the heat that seemed to spark between you both. “I swear you’ll get us caught.” You half joked, but the wild idea was starting to feel too good to back away from.

“Let’s make it quick then,” he replied. “We’ll make sure no one sees us.”

"I swear, Wally, if we get caught... I'll kill you," you warned, your voice a mix of a playful threat.

Wally chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "You wouldn't," he teased, but there was a spark of mischief in his eyes that made your stomach flip. "Besides, it's not like anyone's out there anyway. Everyone's off by the bonfire, telling ghost stories or whatever it is they do. We're fine. I'm sure they won't miss us."

You shot him a skeptical look, doubting if you should agree to it but you craved the adrenaline more.

"Come on," he grinned, grabbing your hand. "Let's go have some fun."

The thrill and the adrenaline coursed through you as you followed him, letting him guide you through the school. Wally was always the one to get you into trouble, but you couldn't deny how much you loved it.

As you both snuck through the hallways, being very careful to avoid Rhonda, Charley, Mr. Martin, or anyone who might spot you. You both could hear the muffled sounds of chatter echoing from the field.

When you finally reached the indoor pool, Wally paused at the entrance, opening the door slowly, and scanning the room. It was empty. The sun was almost gone, and the full moon shone brightly through the roof, illuminating the pool in a way that made the entire space feel almost otherworldly.

Wally turned back to you, a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like we have the place all to ourselves."

"Good," you smiled. "Kinda wanted some alone time, y'know?"

Wally's smile grew bigger, his gaze deepening. He took a step closer to you, his eyes locked onto yours. "I was actually thinking the same thing," he said, his voice low, more intimate. There was a flicker of something between you, a feeling that had been there for a while but neither of you had ever acknowledged it. "Just you and me."

"Just you and me," you repeated slowly, the words lingering in the air between you two.

For a second, everything faded away. The pool, the school, the world—it all felt distant, like a memory. It was just you and him, standing there in the moonlit pool, the adrenaline cursing through your veins.

Wally's hand was still intertwined with yours; his touch was warm, and even though you were technically dead, you still felt alive in moments like this. His gaze never left yours as he stepped closer, his breath becoming quicker.

"You sure about this?" he asked, his voice a mix of excitement and something else, something deeper, though it was hard for you to place.

You met his gaze and smirked. "Dead serious."

Wally's lips curled into a grin, there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes and it made your pulse quicken. The weight of his gaze on you caused your head to spin, his presence was overwhelming. He leaned in, his voice lowering to a whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Just us?"

"Mhm," you nodded, your gaze never leaving his.

There was a subtle shift in Wally's demeanor, a possessiveness in the way he looked at you, but it wasn't the kind that felt controlling, it was the kind that made you feel like he was claiming this moment, claiming you, without saying a word. The air grew heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts, you couldn't really tell if it was the adrenaline or something else, but you felt your heart pound louder in your chest.

"Yeah?" Wally repeated, a challenging tone lacing his voice, his smile never wavered. He stepped a little bit closer, closing the distance between you, his body just a fraction of an inch from yours. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the tension between you so strong, so thick you could almost touch it.

You tilted your head slightly, feeling the weight of his gaze, how it seemed to pierce right through you, taking in every single inch of you. His pupils were wide, dark, hungry, and the intensity of his stare made your heart race faster than before.

There was no going back now.

And honestly? You did not want to.

"Yeah," you whispered, a little breathless, words barely escaping your lips.

Just you and him, no distractions, no one to come between you two, no rules, no secrets, no limits.

Just you and him.

"So...Skinny dipping?" his lips brushed against your ear, his voice now a low whisper.

This might actually be the worst idea you've ever had. You'd suggested skinny dipping as a joke, both drunk and laughing while writing the list, not actually expecting him to go forward with it.

But here you were, bodies so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, the air thick, almost suffocating. His eyes so dark, filled with something you couldn't quite describe, but you knew this wasn't just about a dare anymore.

This wasn't just a game.

It was about to become something entirely different, something that could change everything, ruin everything, but... maybe, just maybe, you wanted it to. 

[cybrasigilism]

A Little Caught Up (Park Min-su/Player 125 X F! Reader DRABBLE)

warnings: smut | not proofread | lowercase intended | rough dom! reader | bondage | degradation | overstimulation | crying | piv | f! reader | mommy kink | outside the games | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own

character: park min-su (player 125)

A/N: THANK YOU @gongyoosgf FOR THIS IDEA OMG, needed min-su tied up YESTERDAY (jokes i swear), but in all seriousness i hope you guys enjoy!

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

“p..p—lease mommy, i can’t take it..”

min-su’s pathetic whines only egged you on while you rode him with more aggression than you’d ever done in the past. he was tied up, completely at your mercy as you fucked him through another orgasm. “oh? y- can’t take it?” you echoed, grabbing hold of his face. “that’s rich, considering you were practically begging me to do this before— if you’re gonna be a slut, don’t be pathetic.” his head fell backwards, overwhelmed from the pleasure as you began to grind down onto him; a pornographic moan leaving his lips in response.

you had to admit, seeing min-su this fucked out beneath you was such a fucking turn on. each time your ends met you dug your nails into him a little bit harder, which in turn made him cry out. you weren’t going to stop though, no way. tears were streaming down his face but you knew he loved this— he loved that his wrists were bound away from him, that he couldn’t touch you or hold you back from going buck wild on his cock. there was no need to convince him to say or do anything because you had this boy in the palm of your hand, and you definitely took advantage of this.

“ are ya’ feelin’ good, sweetie?” you groaned, pressing your palms down on his chest as though to steady yourself before going back to riding him. he looked up at you through half-lidded eyes, pupils totally blown. “m-making me f—eel s’ good, mommy.” fuck, you felt yourself tighten around him even more each time he called you that. before min-su, you never would have imagined yourself to enjoy being called mommy, but the way he said it made your stomach do backflips. you wanted to praise him for being so obedient, but he already knew how good he made you feel, so you wanted to try something different.

“you better be, might as well be working overtime to fuck you this good.” you snarled, your speed and rhythm only increasing. “who else can make you feel this good? who else would want to make you feel this good?”

“ju-ust you, oh god— fuck me mommy..” you could tell he wasn’t going to last much longer, and neither would you at this rate. you could feel him tremble beneath you even with all the commotion you were causing. but he asked for you to be rough with him this time, and you were stopping for no one.

══════════════════

thanks for reading! this one’s been sitting in the drafts for an embarrassing amount of time, but i’m in good spirits and wanted to produce some content! i’ll try to work through some requests :)

as usual, any constructive criticism/advice on how to improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a fantastic day/night lovelies 💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @agornotsworld @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Pent Up 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you seek validation through online correspondence with incarcerated men, only for one to lock you down in turn.

Characters: convict/excon!Thor (silverfox)

Note: It's an addiction now.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

'I never thought I'd be writing to someone like you, but you've shown me a different side of things. I hope that my emails give you comfort and can help you through. Even on the other side, they get me through my day. I'm always excited to read when there's a ding in my inbox.

I hope you also enjoy the little bit I could put in your commissary. If I lived closer, maybe I could bring you something homemade. At the moment, bus fare is a bit too much for my pockets.

Anyway, signing off.

Yours,

Diamond'

You add a whole line of heart emojis to the email then hit send. You giggle and click on the next. You don't have the heart to copy and paste so you add a bit of variety to the next.

This one is... Thor? That's his name. He's a funny one. Considering he's in the pen, you're surprised by that. The others are so dire; pushy too.

You hit reply on his last email. Something about a fight and apologising for not replying earlier. He says he was in solitary for a whole week. That sounds miserable. The thought is enough to scare you straight. It's why you've never done anything wrong in your whole life. Until now.

It's not really wrong. It's allowed. It's legal. You're just sending messages. If anything, it's a community service. These men don't have much more contact than each other and that's a recipe for chaos.

You won't admit that other reason aloud. That tickly feeling in your stomach. When they compliment you, when they say they missed you. You can't help but smile, even giggle sometimes. It's nice to be appreciated, even if it's all a fantasy.

You'll never meet these men. That's the fun part. You don't have to worry about any of this. Maybe that helps. Maybe you think too much when you're face-to-face. That explains why every cute guy you talk to sees past you.

'I forgive you, sweetie. It must have been so hard in there. The important thing is you replied. I got so worried! I hope that after all that, my email can bring a bit of comfort. I have to be honest, I never thought I'd be chatting with someone like you. That I could find this type of connection. Please, take care and email soon.'

Another parade of emojis follows and you send it off happily. Now you just have to wait and see who gets back to you first. If it's Ernie, you're not sure you'll respond. He's been fixated on his cell mate and his emails are getting a bit scary. That's the other great part. You can always just delete and block.

The response comes an hour later. You're sleepy and ready to pass out. You read it anyway.

'You are so kind, my queen.' You giggle. Yeah, he calls you that sometimes. If only he knew you were sitting in bed with an ice cream sandwich wrapper and your cell phone. Definitely not queenly behaviour. 'I got through it by thinking of you, of dreaming of the day when we can talk face-to-face. Wouldn't that be lovely? For all my mistakes, I think they will mean something if you and me can be together.'

You make a face. He's so cheesy. You can't help but laugh again. You're not trying to be cruel, you do empathise with his situation, you can't imagine being in prison, but like anyone else, he earned his time. There's one last light.

'If it isn't too much trouble, would you kindly send a picture so I have a face to admire in my lonelier moments? I've attached my own. Forgive me as it dates a few years back.'

You're not smiling anymore. You haven't sent any of the men pictures. They haven't offered theirs but you can look up their mug shots easily. You hate to ruin the fantasy but curiosity has you tapping the attachment.

Oh. You're surprised. He's older than you in this picture and by his own confession, is more so now. But he isn't repugnant. Anything but. Tall, blond, thick! You don't know if you've ever seen a man that size.

Even in a suit, it's obvious that his arms are bulging and his chest is ripe to burst out as the jacket button clings for dear life. The photo is cropped so that whoever he took it with is out of frame. His blue eyes sparkle above a defined smile. Has prison worn down all that?

You squirm. Guilt needles in your chest. You could close out and worry about it in the morning. You shouldn't be that sympathetic. He's still a criminal. You can say no. Easily. What's he going to do about it?

What could it hurt? If he saw your face. It's not like anyone would know. That anyone would recognise you or that he could find you anywhere else. You keep your social media anonymous. You aren't like the influencers who get attention just for being pretty.

It's that that gives you pause. You aren't anything but average. It's easier to pretend you're some pretty thing as you message these faceless men. Well, maybe that's a good thing. Maybe once he sees you, you won't have to worry about all that other stuff. He'll cut you off at the pass.

The thrill of it overwhelms your reluctance. It's like gambling, it could go either way.

You start a new message. More meaningly rewording of previous sentiments. Nothing new. Then you scroll through your photo roll. You take a breath and press down on a photo you think isn't half bad. It's from market day you went to with your aunt. Not exactly cutting edge but fun. She snuck in the shot as you smiled down at your gooey cinnamon roll. The impromptu snap is better than most of your posed ones.

You send and quickly lock the phone. You shove it under your pillow and swipe up the wrapper beside you. You leave it on your night stand and sink down, your insides swimming with anxiety. You're going to regret this in the morning.

🎀

'Will you call me?'

The question makes you sweat. You don't know why you feel bad. You've said no before. To him. To all of them. You draw a thick line between your secret little hobby and your real life. You shouldn't have ever sent that photo.

Despite your regret, you smile. His response was more than you could expect. The praise! You don't know that anyone ever even called you cute but he as good as wrote you a poem about your beauty. You have to remind yourself, given his circumstance, he's starved. He'd probably think your nan is sexy.

Still, you're having a hard time typing those two letter; N-O. Thor is so nice. And he asked so sweetly. But you can't do that. What if someone found out?

This whole thing is starting to feel like a big mistake, but it's so much fun. When in your life will men ever be this into you? When have they ever?

'I could call' you type without thinking. What are you doing? 'Let me know how to do that and we can set a time maybe.'

Don't hit send. Don't hit send.

Email sent.

Shit. Oh gosh. Why did you do that?

You close your laptop and leave it on your desk. You need to get ready for work. You can't be worrying about a man you'll never meet. It's all virtual, it's not real. You'll be okay.

You get yourself together and brace yourself for work. You don't really like your job. You work the counter at a tech repair shop. Independent so it's small and slow. Your boss is a bit strange too.

The only benefit is it's close and it pays a few bucks more than the alternative. You're even allowed to work on your online courses at the service desk. Really, it's perfect. You guess you're just not happy with things being boring.

You blow over the lid of your Sailor Moon travel mug and knock on the door. Jensen lets you in with a grin and stifles a yawn in his elbow. You step past him with a sheepish smile.

"If it isn't the champion of justice," he greets smugly and locks the door. You won't open for another half hour.

"Huh?" You go to the counter and slide your bag onto the shelf underneath.

"Your cup," he crosses the shop. “I am Sailor Moon, the champion of justice. In the name of the moon, I will right wrong and triumph over evil… and that means you!”

"Oh, right," you snort at his cheesiness. "You have espresso or something?"

"Red bull," he admits guiltily.

"This early?"

"Early? I never went to sleep," he comes around and goes back to typing on his glowing gaming computer. "Couldn't let my crew down."

You could roll your eyes. All he does is play Fortnite or Halo. He looks like he does too. Yet, he's in here moping after every rare stunner that walks through the door. That's why you'er there. He gets all tongue-tied with women. Well, all of them but you.

"You should join the party," he suggests.

"Well, I don't really play anymore," you shrug. "It was only for fun. My siblings... like it."

"Oh yeah, how's the family?"

"Good, I guess. They don't really call."

Your mom's too busy rebuilding her life with your step-dad. Rather, building the perfect life she never had. You sigh and open up your laptop. You grab your coffee and sip. You're tired of being forgotten.

"Jake," you say, he winces at the use of his first name, "Jensen," you glance at him, "you're a dude."

"Yeah, I am" he answers uncertainly.

"Well, you might know more than I do. You know anyone in prison? Any guys?"

"What?" He exclaims. "Where did that come from?"

"Mm... I was watching a documentary last night," you lie. "About prison or whatever."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and about you know," you sway and look at your laptop. You're terrible at lying. "The women who like write to them or whatever."

"Ew, like the Ted Bundy weirdos?" He scoffs.

"Not exactly. I mean, none of them were murderers. I think," you shrug. "But... like, if you were in prison, you'd need that, right? I mean, it's just to get you through."

"I don't know. It'd be lonely, yeah, but like... what about after?" He scratches his neck. "I got a buddy who was in for a while but he's a good dude. He was only selling... stuff."

"Really?" You perk up, "he went to prison?"

"Well, he doesn't like to talk about it," Jensen says. "Why are you talking about this?"

"Making conversation. I was just thinking about the show," you sign into your laptop. "Just thinking... I mean, how do you even end up there?"

"Bad things. I learned my lesson when I was sixteen. I broke into the high school on a dare and the cops put me in cuffs for two hours. They let me go once I cried... I mean, I was a kid so..."

You nod and try not to show any judgment. That sounds about right. A notification pops up in the corner as Jensen goes back to the fluttering over his keyboard. You click on the email.

'I've been granted call-time at noon. You can call the number below and request by my inmate number...'

You quickly minimize and hide behind your cup as you slurp. Shoot. You didn't think he'd be so fast. A call at noon? You can't say no. Not now that he got approved.

Well, this is the only time it's happening.

[5targh0st]

NUMBER ONE GIRL

78. don’t kick his ass (written)

prev // m.list // next

Looking at the ceiling, still feeling something between numbed and overwhelmed, Yeonjun convinces himself that he did what he had to do. It’s just a little break until he manages to get Yuna to stop harassing him. Once she’s out of the picture, all those feelings will go away. Once she’s gone again, he can go back to the life he’s worked so hard for, right? He knows he’s hurting the person he loves most in the world, but it’s all for a good reason. Surely, you will understand. He will explain and you’ll understand. Just not right now. Not when his old wounds are wide open and you can see his pitiful soul covered in blood. He just needs a few days, maybe weeks, and everything will be okay again.

He really wants to believe that, because it’s been just a couple of days and he’s already dying to talk to you and go back to how things were; how they’re supposed to be.

“Can you please calm down?” Dahyun sighs yet again.

Joshua’s been angry and anxious ever since he saw those posts. Just what the fuck is Yeonjun doing.

“I can’t!” He’s beyond exasperated right now. “She literally said nothing’s going on and yet has gone radio silence ever since. I need to know she’s okay, and she won’t talk to anyone. And I can’t go to Seoul ‘cause we’re closing an important deal and those fuckers insist on seeing me.”

“Hansol says he’s going,” she tries to reassure him.

“That’s way worse!” He complains.

As if sensing they were talking about him, Halson walks into the living room. He looks like he’s ready to kill someone.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get there.” He announces while he makes sure he has his passport with him.

“Just don’t kick his ass right away,” Dahyun pleads.

“I’m not making any promises,” Hansol rolls his eyes.

“She’s gonna hate us if you do,” Josh reminds him. “Just make sure to get both sides of the story.”

“We’re literally meddling in her private life, she’s gonna hate us regardless.” Sarcasm drips from his voice. “So I have to at least land a good punch on that fucker.”

Joshua can’t help but sigh again. Contrary to popular belief, Hansol is way more prone to be a lot more overprotective than he is, and that already says a lot. Of, course, Joshua knows he’s intense and kind of abrasive, but he’s never one to resort to violence. Josh admits he’s the bark, and Hansol is the bite. That’s why they make such a good team. And that’s why he didn’t want him to go alone.

“I really hope you guys don’t regret this,” Dahyun says hugging his waist.

“I think we will.”

During the flight, Hansol tries to think about something else. He really, really tries to write a song and even read the book he always carries around which title he’s already forgotten. He can’t. His mind goes back to his little sister and, by extension, to Josh.

He still remembers the day they met, they were both five and trying not to die of boredom at one of the fancy dinners their parents used to host all the time. Joshua’s chubby cheeks and proud grin are still clear in his mind, “I’m gonna be a big brother soon,” he remembers Joshua bragging. That summer, they met every day and Joshua would say he’d be his big brother too. He was bossy, even more than now, but he was fun. Joshua would try to teach him stuff and care for him, he really enjoyed flexing those few months between their birthdays. Hansol has to admit that he was a little jealous of Joshua’s unborn sister, he liked the attention and felt that the little girl would steal Joshua from him.

And then he saw her. So tiny and fragile, she stole his heart. “Can I be a big brother too?” He remembers asking Joshua. And it’s been like that ever since. He was there as much as he could and tried to help here and there. He thought little Yn would interfere with his time with Joshua, but it was Joshua who’d always tried to cut short his time with the little girl. He loved attending her tea parties and letting her and Karina paint his nails. He’s loved her ever since he first saw her, he’d give up his life for his sister. Blood doesn’t matter, that’s his sister. And he’s gonna make sure Yeonjun understands.

That’s what made him lose his mind in the first place. He was the first to welcome Yeonjun to their little family and even encouraged him to finally ask Yn out. He was really grateful for his presence in his sister’s life. He never expected that he would do something like this, especially completely out of nowhere.

“What the hell is going on?” He mutters looking out the window. There’s nothing to see, though, not besides some dark clouds in the distance.

Three days. It’s been three days since Yeonjun said he needed some space. You still can’t make sense out of his words. You tried texting him, calling him. You haven’t shown up to his place, though, you don’t think you could handle such a direct rejection if he refuses to see you even then. Where did it all go wrong? Everything was going great, better than great even. Everything was perfect.

Were you too pushy? Too clingy? Just too much? Or maybe he got scared? This was his first relationship after a really long time, after all. Maybe everything got way too serious way too fast. He did say he wanted to take things slow, see where it goes. But you thought you were on the same page, you thought you both had the same goals and desires. What if he was just trying to please you? What if you were just a means to an end? What if he was just trying to prove that he could be in a relationship?

But he said he loved you? Loved? When did you start to think about him in past tense? Isn’t he your present and future? Fuck. Everything is a little too overwhelming.

“I need to get out,” you say before grabbing your keys and going out.

You walk around for a few hours but turns out that that’s not enough to ease your mind. Your thoughts are still driving you crazy. Your heart still aching. And Yeonjun’s still missing. When did you get so used to him being around? You miss his jokes, his laugh. His yapping, his random stories. Every single part of him became a part of you. How is it possible to love someone that much in such a short time? His little quirks are engraved in your mind. And you miss him.

And then you see the best way to forget about everything. Even if just for a little while. You just want to forget. Life would be easier if you could just disappear until everything is right again.

“Just one drink,” you say before making your way into the bar.

Very bad idea.

notes:

please tell me you get the modern family reference 😭

joshua trying to be reasonable is my favorite thing ever

han is a real one

if you don't hate my writing and storytelling, you can help me choose my next story here lol

taglist: open! (3/50)

@estella-novella @poetryforthesad @lisaswifey @angelzforu @ihrtlix @gloriousqueenking @domfikeluva @conwunder @miniature-tragedy @jeonginplsholdmyhand @sh0dor1 @yourenzoo @tkshairband @realrintaro @castingjinx @amara-mars @hwangrfrnd @nujeskz @jisungs-iced-americano @zeizeisjy @va1entinaa @beomgyusluver @to-toad @akindaflora @hoefororeo @mandydxndy @nyanamii @delulu4-life @thatonexcgirl @starsunoo @4lndr17 @nbjch05 @borahae-reads @mrsstayfox @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @mrsminseochoi @velvetmoonlght @night-storm7 @lilbrorufr @hyunjinstolemyheart @mangojellyyy @ihrtantn @lausnotverybright @hwangism143 @wa1kinggh0st @skz-ot8-stay @athens-09xx

[howisjoostfanfictionforfree]

Three Times as Many ///// Longer Nights

Real person fiction! Joost Klein x vampire!reader

CW: 18+, MDNI, RPF, brief reference to past murder, cannibalism if you squint, smoochin, dry humping, oral sex, light bondage

Reader: vampire!reader, cisfemale!reader, not too descriptive with readers appearance, implied to be smaller than Joost but by an unspecified amount

Notes: Read part 1 here. Sorry for how atrociously long this part took! Vampire Joost in the Why Not??? mv helped give me the inspo to finish. I hope you guys like it because I can’t tell if I do or not. Thanks for reading!

Gargantuan kudos to @joosthead for being my inspiration and my support as always! Also huge shoutout to @catholicfacade and @tkomptgoedluv for your kind words that have driven me onwards with this fic! My tumblr homies on god

Words: ~11,600

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're not sure why you left Joost standing there. 

Why you ran away. 

Again.

Things were going so well. You could have kissed him. Could have done all sorts of things. It's not like he wasn't into it.

Maybe it was just to get a reaction. Joost is so expressive. The way he looks at you is already something you crave and you've really only just met. Maybe it’s because as much as you want to believe you overreacted that first night, you're still not really sure you did. Nothing has made you lose control like that since the time you literally ate someone.

The doubt tickles at the back of your mind but it’s also hard to pay it too much attention when the insistent pressure of Joost’s cock against your ass is seared so clearly into your memory. It’s hard not to want to see him again. 

Still, if you’re doing this, you’re taking no chances.

Joost is expecting you at his studio tomorrow, so tonight, Melkweg is the place to be. Tickets to actually see a show are too expensive when you're not there to enjoy yourself so the cold evening is spent against the even-colder cement wall of a movie theater across the street. Wedged between gently lit ads for Bones and All and Puss in Boots you watch those who have partied too hard trickle out of Melkweg’s ever-revolving door.

Each is more than drunk enough to suit your needs, but tonight they are all in groups. So responsible. So unhelpful. When one guy finally stumbles out sans-friend you let yourself follow, slipping into those same shadows that are deeper than ever. 

Fall is well underway and nights are only getting longer.

A few streets away the lamps are sparse enough and he goes down easy. His blood is hot and sharp and everything it should be, but it’s hard to miss how unmoved you are by the man beneath you. He tastes good, it scratches an itch, but your attention is divided and the whole process somehow feels clinical.

Even now you're thinking of Joost. How you wish it were him. How he would moan when your teeth slide in deep. Deeper than he expects. Would he still be so happy-go-lucky then? Or would he claw and beg? You don’t even know which one you prefer. The man groans and you realize you're biting way too hard.

It was a good idea to do this tonight. 

You try to drink your fill, as much as you suspect the poor guy can tolerate, and release him. He nearly stumbles into the canal in his panic, but rights himself before you have to make a watery rescue. His hot blood simmers in your veins, warming you against the evening chill as you watch him stagger down the street and disappear. Hopefully he can find his way home on a cold night like this.

Anti-murder  insurance measures complete, you head for your own home with what you hope is a full belly.

The morning doesn't bring the rain so typical of your new favorite city, but instead a creeping mist. Almost as thick as the shadows that multiply with each passing night, the tiny droplets obscure the neighborhood as you stand on your balcony ruminating on how very in-control you will be today. 

The address Joost gave is surprisingly close to your own apartment. The brisk ride on your shabby bike that may or may not have originally belonged to someone else lasts only ten minutes.

16 Schimmelstraat is like much of Amsterdam. One of many brick row houses lined up one after another, complete with compulsory loading beam and hook jutting out above the top window, leftover from when the street was once a canal. There are a few small shops tucked in at ground level but most of the buildings appear residential.

Few people are on the street and with the way the sun can’t quite penetrate through the murky whiteness, the world almost seems to stand still.

Joost stands on the stoop at the end of the row in what looks like at least three hoodies. He’s still so beautiful it’s shocking. Leaning against cold whitewashed brick, much as you did last night, he smokes lazily. The tendrils curl up and away from perfect pouty lips to join with the mist and you can imagine the city is enshrouded all because of him. 

You see Joost long before he sees you. Hard not to spot a glowing head of hair like that even in this murkiness. Here in the Netherlands it shouldn’t stand out, but it did in the club and it does now too. You’re sure it’s just the almost-mullet. Nothing to do with the way his features are imprinted on your hindbrain.

When he notices you coming down the street, his face lights up just like before. He can barely stub out his cigarette as he keeps looking up like you’ll disappear. Bounding down the steps on those long long legs, Joost skids to a halt mere inches away, nearly bowling you over and flooding you with his scent.

“Heyyy!” Joost looks so excited it's almost embarrassing. Hands flit around at his sides like he wants to touch but in the sober light of day he can't seem to find an excuse. It doesn't keep him from standing way too close for sanity. Already, your preparations are threatening to become useless as you fight the tug behind your eyes and the pit in your stomach yawns. “I’m happy you came!” He blurts, giddy. “I didn't know if you would really come in the middle of the day.” 

You squint. He can’t be serious. “I’m not nocturnal, I just prefer the club at night!” 

He giggles nervously “I wasn’t sure. Everyone knows vampires burn in the sun. Or sparkle. Looks like you don’t sparkle either.” 

“Sorry to disappoint.” 

He smiles so sweetly at that. “You don’t. I’m glad you came. Still want me to show you my stuff?” There's the eyebrow waggle again. You didn't know someone could look so tender and so unrepentantly horny at the same time. “C’mon, it’s just upstairs.”

Opening the door, Joost lets you through before following you inside. Immediately faced with another door you try the handle, but before you can budge it there is a jingle and he leans past with a key. It’s obvious Joost is making a move when he lets his chest press against your back as he all but pens you in, breath fanning over your neck. It’s more than welcome, but in the tiny space trapping every molecule of his scent, it nearly makes you do something terrible.. 

“Wait, wait, hold on.” You whip around and press flat against the door to regain some space, trying desperately not to get riled. No matter your preparations, Joost is an assault on the senses. 

“Sorry!” he pulls away quickly, big blue eyes searching you from behind thick black frames, eyebrows inching upwards. “Sorry. Was I reading this wrong?”

Holding your breath would help, but he's asked you a question and you can’t imagine ignoring a face like that. “No, you just..you smell too nice…and…I really need to get a handle on the eyes. Just…hold on one sec.” Joost absorbs that for a split second before melting back into a smile. “Oh, but we're alone, it's okay right? I like your eyes.” 

Such a flatterer. And he’s kind of right, it is good that you're alone for this. It’s a goddamn miracle no one noticed your eyes at the club. Here, you almost want to take advantage of the opportunity to relax around such an unusually accepting person. Still, you know Joost is also an unusually slippery slope.  “No- I’m trying not to-” you can’t even finish.

He waits patiently while you fight it but the memory of him hard against your ass in the club makes a timely reappearance and the eyes snap into place. 

“Fuck.”  You cover them quickly. 

He brings a hand to your wrist. “Let me see.” So gentle and so shameless, he convinces you easily. Dropping your hand, you meet his eyes and he holds them, just as mesmerized as before.

 “That must be a huge pain in the ass.” 

Your confusion must show because he clarifies “Hiding that all the time I mean. I’m glad I didn’t just buzz you in, Tantu might have been the one to get the door.” 

You blink. “I don’t think Tantu would have been a problem.” 

It’s his turn to look puzzled.

“I mean, this isn’t usually a problem. You just smell so much better than anyone else.” Now that you’re past pretending to be human you can’t find it in you to be anything other than blunt. 

The gears turning in his head are all but visible as he swallows thickly, face pink. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Well, just give me a minute, I think I’m almost there.” something about what you say makes his stunned look slide into a smirk but you ignore it in favor of focusing on slowing your heart and pretending you don’t smell the spike of arousal coming off him. 

You’re definitely not wet. Nope. 

After another minute you take a deep breath, and even though the accompanying wave of pheromones makes you want to punch the wall, you manage to keep your eyes normal. “Okay, let’s go” He obliges, and you give him room to unlock the door.

Turns out, Tantu is the DJ from the club. One of the many of Joosts friends that had been there that night. You step into is in fact a very real studio full of very real equipment you couldn't even begin to guess the purpose of.

Tantu daps Joost up with noticeable warmth and welcomes you into the space without fuss. It’s clear any friend of Joost’s is a friend of Tantu and he soon leaves you to return to stabbing at his computer. Joost shows you to his own in the opposite corner. 

Right off the bat, you realize any assumptions you might have had about Joost had been wrong as he hands you the most expensive looking pair of headphones you've ever seen and proceeds to play you his entire studio album released just over a month ago.

At the club he had said ‘huge artiest’ so jokingly, so flirtatiously, somehow managing to be modest mid-brag. You hadn’t known whether to believe him. You had hoped it would be true, but you hadn't really expected it. 

Here, now, in the span of fourteen songs it becomes abundantly clear he’s not just some soundcloud rapper, not a wannabe star. He’s a real one. 

He tells you a little about each song before he plays it. Who helped him the most in the end (mostly Tantu), where he was when he started writing it (so many places, he travels a lot), how he sampled this for this song and this for that song. He is deeply proud but you can tell there is also a layer of nervousness, like he truly wants you to like it.

You sing along to Fryslan Bop, the one from the club, and he laughs hysterically as you try and fail to imitate the sound of Dutch lyrics you can’t understand to the best of your memory. 

Finally, you finish and he seems to be waiting for a review.

“I couldn’t understand almost any of that, sorry to say. Only fuck, the handful of other English words, and Joost Klein. That really is your favorite lyric isn't it?” He shrugs happily. “But I didn't need to. I liked it. It made me feel… things. You have a lot of range in your sound. All the festivals I went to this summer and nothing sounded like this.”  

He’s grinning ear to ear. “Did you go to Pinkpop? I got to play this year!”

“Yes! I definitely didn't see you though, I would have remembered.” 

He nods sagely. “Must have been a different day.” 

You want to ask about the sad song in the middle of the album. Florida-something. So different from the upbeat tracks before and after. Somehow though, it feels like you can’t, like you shouldn't, and you let it lie. 

“All right! What’s next?”

Joost remains flirtatious over the afternoon but it’s dramatically toned down compared to your last encounter. Maybe it’s just how he behaves normally, without the booze and the high of the club. Maybe it's shyness given Tantu within earshot. Either way, you have no such reservations.

“Y’know, I was half expecting it to be all talk. Like, I wondered if ‘come to my studio’ was code for my place or yours?” Tantu coughs in the corner and a blush creeps up Joost’s neck. His scent kicks up and you're reminded why flirting right now isn’t actually a good idea.

Still, getting reactions out of Joost is a wonderful pastime and you can't help yourself. “This is so much better, this stuff is amazing, I’m serious. I think I’m gonna join the groupies.” From the corner of your eye you can see Tantu put on headphones. Joost looks rightfully smug. 

Hmm, not shy then. Smug is good too. 

After another hour of poking around in the files, you propose early dinner. Joost seems kind of surprised but suggests a few spots nearby. Maybe he expected you to bail again. To be fair, you’ve never stuck around this long before.

Tantu declines to join, citing too much to do. A suspicious answer, but you won't complain if he wants to let you be alone with Joost.

Joost leads you to an Italian restaurant of all places. It’s a short walk but from the corner of your eye you catch him almost reach for your hand no less than four times. You don’t reach back, pretend not to notice. He hasn’t touched you since this morning when he crowded you against the door and you wish he would again but watching him squirm is so much fun.

The October sun has already gone down and the neon sign for Antonio’s glows like a beacon on a street with few other lights. Joost stops to stare up at it. “Can you uh…can you eat garlic?” 

What are you gonna do with this guy? 

“No, I'll die.” He whips his head around. “Really?! Fuck, sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I know another place-.” You can’t keep a straight face. “No, I’m kidding. C’mon I’m hungry.” He follows, sputtering.

They must peg you for a couple because they automatically seat you at a table in the corner away from other customers. As you peruse the menu, Joost is unusually quiet. His eyes keep flicking up to you as you read. The waitress comes to take your order and his eyebrows disappear into his bangs when you ask for pasta. He’s still staring once she leaves and you can’t stand it any more. 

“Dude, I can't drink blood all the time.” 

He chokes on his water. 

This is apparently the permission he needs to unleash the legion of questions that have been brewing since the fateful moment you rubbed up on his dick and disappeared into the night. Joost proceeds to take inventory of your personal brand of vampire with a thoroughness you did not expect. You really should have, considering the way his heart picks up every time anything vaguely vampiric takes place. 

He’s a bit of a nerd about it actually. 

“So you eat regular food?” 

Yes. 

“Do you have to drink blood?” 

Yes.

“Do you have fangs?”

Yes.

“It doesn’t look like you have fangs.”

They’re retracted.

“Re..tracted.”

Not full length right now.

“Oh. Can you turn invisible?”

No. 

“Can you brainwash humans?” 

No. What? 

“Can you turn into a bat?” 

No!

“Okay, okay! How often do you have to drink blood?” 

You tell him what you’ve found to be true over the years. 

Blood doesn’t seem to be necessary for actual nutrition, but the longer you go without it the more you crave it, and ultimately the more forceful you become when you finally take what you need. It makes you feel healthier, it gives you energy, but beyond any of that it’s just an urge you always have.

Abstaining for very long only leads to bad times for your unwilling donors when you finally give in. Indulging about twice a week seems to be the best for keeping people out of the hospital. 

By the time the food arrives, Joost is looking suspiciously horny. Smells like it too. Resisting the tug at the back of your eyes is already becoming a practiced routine. He doesn’t seem the least bit deterred by the casual mention of violence and you wonder if you could ever tell Joost about that night. 

The thought gets flicked aside as quickly as it came. 

No one can ever know what you’ve done and it’s honestly crazy to be letting him in at all. Everything you have come to accept can’t be part of your life, everything you left behind, it was to protect you- you did it to survive. 

With Joost, it’s almost like those rules have gone out the window. You don’t know what about him has you wanting to be so honest. He may be unfairly hot and the only person who has never freaked out on you but where is the self preservation? 

You’re probably going to have to move again. 

Joost has more questions but you’re curious about him. He’s Dutch, he’s beautiful, he’s not actually a poser, he clearly has a danger kink, but who is he?

Somehow, though he’s bright red again, the first thing out of his mouth is that he is not Dutch. He is from Fryslân! Joost tells you a little bit about where he grew up, when he first moved to Amsterdam, how he used to do Youtube and how he first met Tantu. You let him talk and set to work making a dent in your noodles. 

Everything Joost tells you helps paint a picture, but to your curiosity, he is quick to skate over most of his past. Anything more than a handful of years ago gets more and more vague and it becomes clear there's something he’s avoiding.

You don’t see why he would be holding out on you, it’s not like you haven’t been telling him all your secrets. Well, maybe not all of them. Whatever. 

The Florida song tickles at the back of your mind and you don’t press it. 

“I’m down to one noodle, wanna Lady and the Tramp this shit?” 

Sadly, though he accepts with enthusiasm, the noodle breaks and you don’t get your arrabiata kiss. He checks his phone while you wait for the bill and curses under his breath. “What is it?” you mumble through your napkin.

“Tantu was just being polite earlier. He wanted to work on more stuff after dinner but I didn’t see the message.” You begin to wonder what that means for your evening but Joost is already smiling again as he slips the phone back into his pocket. “Oh well, Tantu always forgives me. We’ll do it later. Wanna go through the park on the way back?”

Your stomach gives a little flip. “Yeah.”

The last vestiges of the sunset are long gone and the park is deathly quiet. The fog has been so thick for so long that the grass is soaked, glistening under the lamplight and stretching out on either side of the path to form dark fields of glitter. 

“So, is it a date this time?” He asks innocently. You try not to trip over nothing.

You want it to be a date. It really shouldn't be, you shouldn't let people know you, but for so long it hasn’t even been an option and Joost is so much more than an option. You’ve never met anyone like him.

“Yes.”

He grabs your hand and every hair on your body stands on end. It’s an innocent touch, all things considered, but you know where this is going and finally, finally, something is happening. It’s a wonder you didn’t end up in his bed that night at the club. He so clearly wanted you, and you were just as ready to let him hit it against the wall in the alley if he’d asked. This time, you're not running.

He swings your hands as you walk, trying and failing to keep the smile off his face. Every ounce of your attention is zeroed-in on the way his big hand curls around yours, but it’s also becoming impossible not to notice the emptiness around you.

The surface of the pond is mirror-smooth and the trees stand lifeless as you wander deeper into the park, like everything is holding its breath. You are utterly alone and the crunching of your shared footsteps seems to echo. 

Forgetting you're an apex predator, one would almost worry about what is lurking in the shadows. It’s fun to suspend your disbelief, let the atmosphere affect you and pretend that Joost is your only hope against the creatures of the night. You grip his hand tighter and he grips back, giving a little squeeze then lacing his fingers between your own. 

The path continues along the water and under a bridge. Low but wide, the street that goes over must be a main thoroughfare yet not a single car can be heard. Joost’s puffs of breath are all the more audible as you enter the void of the tunnel underneath.

The shadows are deep, unnaturally so, and you can only half make out the patchwork of graffiti. The lamp at the exit seems farther than it should be and it gives you a thrill, still indulging in your supernatural fantasy. You press your side up against Joost, letting the closeness be a comfort even though you are nothing but excited. 

He stops in place suddenly, catching you by the hand, and pulls you to his chest. He wraps an arm around your back and squeezes. “Why are we walking so fast?”

The light is so low but you can still make out his features, pink, golden, and perfect, looking at you bemused. “It’s spooky out here, don’t you think?” You half-whisper. “If I’m out here, who knows what else is too.” It’s said with a smile and Joost grins right back. 

“Don’t worry, we’re safe if we’re together.” His eyes dart to your lips and back up before he speaks again. “Slow down for me?” In the stillness of the night, his heartbeat is deafening. His normally crystal eyes are dark, pupils dilating more and more with his climbing pulse. It’s a shame he can’t hear yours. A feeling you refuse to name pricks at your chest and you crane your neck up. 

He beats you to it. 

Your mouths meet and color explodes behind your lids. If his scent was powerful, the taste of him is something else entirely. Joost groans against your lips and releases your hand to wrap both arms around you, crushing you close.

When he has you where he wants you, one hand comes up to cradle the back of your head and he licks at the seam of your mouth. You open for him and he licks further into you with a sigh.

It’s hard to keep up. Now that Joost finally has you in his arms he is greedy and the hot wet of his mouth threatens to eat you alive. 

You don’t think you would mind if it did. 

Joost is forced to pull away first, his laboured breath visible in the cold. You whine at the loss and his eyes widen. Need for air forgotten again, he peddles you backwards until your back hits the wall of the tunnel and he’s on you again. Joost kisses you deep, hard, pressing you into the concrete like you’re laid flat on a bed.

The kisses make their way down your neck and when your eyes open as he sucks at your collar bone, it is to see that the passage and all its vandalism register in perfect detail. You never even felt the tug but your eyes are fully shifted. 

He lifts his head to capture your mouth again and you can’t mistake the infatuation in his eyes when he notices your own.

It ruins you. You could never say no to a face like that. What’s more, you don’t want to. His devotion is so apparent and this is only your first time together. If he weren't pressing you into the wall, it would have you on your knees. 

You kiss back, hungry. Maybe if you swallow him whole, you can keep him forever. It’s hard to ignore how good he smells. His arousal has been simmering all day but now it’s kicked up to a thousand and every inhale sends a pang to your cunt. Your panties are toast. 

The hand cushioning your head from the wall comes around to cup your cheek as Joost tries his best to drink your little noises. He has plenty of his own. Words too. Little yes’s and encouragements when he slips his knee between your thighs and you grind down. 

His length is hard against your tummy, bigger than you realized when it was against your ass before. 

The rush of blood under his skin is almost tangible- so quick with the frantic pace of his heart. The hot length of his throat is flush with it, and the most mouth-watering aroma curls lazily from the neck of his hoodie. 

Your core throbs. Your teeth ache. 

Joost’s fingers start to curl under the edge of your jacket, fumbling to get under the shirt. The cool air and his cold hands make you moan and he whimpers in response, grabbing you hard by both hips and grinding into you firmly. It turns your legs to jelly, and you have to break the kiss to catch your breath against his chest. 

Too overcome to focus on a rhythm, he thrusts mindlessly every couple beats as his lips make their way slowly down your temple. Even through all the clothing, the hot length of him is like a brand over your navel. He licks over your ear and all the air you managed to recover whooshes right out again.

Joost’s shameless enthusiasm, his desperation, has your head spinning. His scent has enveloped you completely- arousal so thick you can almost taste it with his throat so close to your face. You want to taste it. He nibbles at your earlobe tenderly and your stomach swoops. 

Spit pools on your tongue and it’s dawning on you that there might be a problem.

His lips start to travel down your neck a second time. Open-mouthed kisses and tiny nips followed by the flat of his tongue laving over each mark, soothing each time it makes you grip him tighter. Then, without warning, his mouth drops to that same spot on your shoulder- the same as in the club, and he bites down.

The thrill it sends through you ricochets down to your pussy, clenching around nothing, and back up again in a split second. Your fangs drop. 

You lunge forward before you can think.

You can’t think, actually. Joost is on you, around you, and he might as well be in you with the way he fills up every corner of your awareness making higher functions impossible. He jerks back, surprised at the speed of the movement, and your teeth sink into three layers of hoodie. 

It tastes like the pasta sauce he dripped on himself at dinner.

Your gut swoops in an entirely different way as your head clears all too suddenly and you unlock your jaw and shove him off you, hand slapping over your mouth. Joost staggers back a few steps at the force, nearly falling on his ass. He looks petulant, big eyes pleading like you’ve just taken away his favorite toy. 

“What's wrong?” He huffs, already closing the distance again. You lurch away to maintain the space and confusion twists his brow. Joost tugs at the neck of his hoodie, tucking his chin to look at it and finding two jagged holes and a patch of dampness.

His brow goes slack in understanding. “Oh, it’s okay, come here.” He reaches for you again. “You know I want you to bite me right?” 

Your eyes widen and you dodge his grabby hands. You don’t dare remove your own hand from your mouth to speak. Really, you should have known. In retrospect, it was obvious. Should have known from the moment he bit you the first time in the club that he really did want you to bite him back. Fucking vampire kink fucking weirdo.

Not that you’re entirely complaining.

Finally Joost stops reaching for you, pouting, and waits. You don’t trust yourself to speak for several minutes. It would be better if you left, ran away again in case the sanity doesn’t hold. You don’t want to do that to him again though, not a third time. You have to get a grip.

Slowly, you remove your hand and he perks up. “Sorry, about your hoodie. I- , We- , We shouldn’t do that. You won’t like it.”

“What, why not? I think I would.”

“Believe me, it hurts.”

His trademark blush and grin combo is firmly back in place. “I don't care, it’s kind of hot.”

You pause, unsure how to counter without laying out the details of how you don’t want to commit murder a second time. “It’s like with the eyes. With you, I can’t really help what I’m doing, can’t control myself. It would probably be rough. I might hurt you. I mean, it always hurts but I think I might hurt you for real.”

He looks contemplative, though you notice the blush hasn’t diminished. “Is it really that different with me?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why. I think- , I think I just need to get used to you. I probably can’t ever bite you, but if we’re gonna get cozy without me flipping my shit, then I think we might need an adjustment period.” You immediately realize what you said. “That is, uh, if you want to keep doing this sometimes.”

He doesn’t leave you hanging. “I do! You said this is a date, I want more dates.” His earnest expression becomes immediately suggestive. “If I have to wait to show you my stuff, that's okay. Can’t help it if I drive you crazy.”

Oh, he’s a bastard. “Whatever you say, spaghetti shirt. You’re gonna need to stop biting me too, I can’t be held responsible for what that makes me want to do to you.”

“Noted.” He chokes through a laugh.

“Alright, let's go back. I’m fucking cold.”

The second Joost had kissed you, all fantasies of supernatural ambiance were forgotten. Now that you're separated again, they are at the front of your mind once more. The shadows look like more than shadows and the density of the fog feels designed to conceal something lurking beyond. You feel the need to protect Joost, probably from yourself, but it’s nicer to imagine something else so you let the fantasy reform.

The twinge of unease from the misty morning on your balcony is back and you do your best to stomp it out. You just need to take it slow. You can still do this if you take it slow and let yourself get used to him. 

The walk is mostly quiet. Joost seems thoughtful and you try not to hold his hand too hard. When you make it back to the studio, you unlock your bike and try not to imagine the night swallowing him when you go your separate ways. When you turn back to him, Joost swoops in again for another kiss.

It’s only a peck, he’s giving you the space you asked for, but then his hand grabs your own and brings it to his mouth. It seems like he's going to kiss that too, goofy as he is, but quick as blinking he gives your knuckle a nip and winks before doing a one-eighty and starting down the street. 

You clutch your hand to your chest like you’ve been burned.

He bit you!

Again!

He keeps biting you and now he's walking calmly with his back turned like it doesn’t make you want to chase him down and pin him. Like it doesn't make you want to take him there on the pavement and tear into him.

Is this his idea of compromise?

“See you later!” He waves before disappearing around the corner.

It’s hard to decide whether to blush or go pale. 

You wonder, not for the last time, what the fuck you are doing. 

There's no chance to stew too long because the very next day Joost is already taking up all your attention. He hits you up at ten. You're naked in front of the mirror brushing your teeth when he calls. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” So chipper. 

You spit into the sink. “Just work, was gonna go to a cafe.”

“Can I come with?” He is possibly the most distracting person in the world for you, if last night was any indication, but he sounds so eager you can’t find it in you to say no. 

Joost meets you at your usual cafe down the street. A place you often find yourself working these days when your cozy apartment, though a good refuge from the persistent rain, becomes just a little too monotonous.

There is another moment of acclimation when you meet him out front, but you manage to keep your eyes from changing. You lean into him, forehead against his chest to keep anyone from seeing in case you can’t keep a handle on it while he smooths a hand down your back, heart noticeably fast and scent stirring at the closeness.

Anyone bothering to pay attention would think you were any normal couple embracing. After a few minutes when nothing happens, you straighten. Joost almost looks disappointed. 

He swoops in rather dramatically to pay when you order at the counter and you let him, bemused. He wants to know whether you’ve ever tried poffertjes and when the food arrives he feeds you one off his plate, looking only vaguely horny when you wrap your lips around it.

Joost asks you how you like the Netherlands and you find yourself telling him how long you really haven't been here. Before you know it, you're telling him all the places you've lived over the past few years, distracted from your work already.

He has so many questions and he drinks up your stories eagerly, relays some of his own about some of the same places. He really does travel a lot.

You get so caught up that you retrace your journey all the way back to your home country. When you pause, he notices you’ve exhausted your list. “That’s where you're from, right? You have the accent.” 

You hesitate, but telling him where you're from won’t actually bring him any closer to knowing what you did. “Yeah, that’s home.” 

“Why did you leave? Why so many places?” 

Fuck. 

“Is it because-” he pokes at his canines with the tips of his index fingers “vampire?” Relief washes over you. It’s the truth technically, more than he will ever know, and you don't really have to explain it. He’s filling in the gaps himself.

“Yeah, got too hard to hide.” 

When you part after many hours and little work, he gives you the tiniest, softest kiss, takes your hand, and brushes his mouth over the same knuckle before gently biting it once more.

The cafe becomes a pattern for the two of you, him showing up more often than you would have thought he had time for. He’s better at letting you work after that first day. Often brings his own things to work on, mostly concert visuals, and becomes deeply immersed in editing and drawing when he isn’t serving as your unwitting tech-support. 

When you’re not working, he takes up your time all the same. He texts you constantly. A stupid picture of his dog, of Tantu, an edgy meme.

You're not used to it. It's been years since anyone has texted you at all. Even your boss just emails. Most often, the texting is to suss out where you are and if you're busy.

He seems determined to take you to what you're realizing is every place he usually spends his free time. His favorite restaurants, his favorite parks, his favorite bars. He's so bright, so gleeful in almost everything that he does. Joost shows you things just to see if you like them too.

One night he shows up at your door, six-pack in hand.

 “Hi! …How do you know where I live?” 

He stares back with eyes that look huge through the black frames slid low on his nose. “You sent me a pin? I thought you wanted me to meet you.”

 A glance at your phone reveals the sent pin and several highly enthusiastic reply texts that you very much had not noticed. You meant to send him the link to the place you were meeting tomorrow. Fuck your life. 

“Uh, I didn’t mean to. Hope I didn't make you drop anything to come here.” 

“No, you didn't! What are you up to? Wanna hang out?” Joost almost talks like a kid. The bottles clink at the way he wiggles while he speaks and it only adds to the effect despite the way he towers over you like you're the child.

That night you proceed to have the first of many regular movie marathons with Joost. Keeping your hands to yourself is hard with him on your couch all cozy and warm, oozing pheromones, but he mostly behaves and so do you.

Another night, he takes you to his favorite skate park where you don't do any skating. You just sit and watch everyone else and eat ice cream that melts way too fast while he tells you about someone named Nathan. 

Another night after that he brings you to his place where you play COD until he gives up trying to teach you and you talk until the sun comes up. It's more difficult being in Joost’s flat, everything smells like him and it was fucking mean of him to wear grey sweatpants the first time you come over. Still, he gives you space, not pushing like you can tell he wants to.

It’s kind of sweet actually. This stranger you met at the club, grinded on at the club, trying to work with you and be delicate like being delicate matters. It all felt like some kind of weird extended hook-up at first, but the longer this goes on the more it feels like Joost wants to know you.

No one has been allowed to know you in a long time. 

You want to know him too- know more of his favourite places, his favorite movies, his favourite foods. Know what it is he isn't saying every time you talk about the past.

It’s beginning to feel like you will. Like this thing you have going isn't so crazy.  

Seeing Joost starts to fill your days, replacing the sporadic trips to the club that filled the human-shaped hole in your chest with a companionship that made you forget there ever was a hole. You didn’t realize how much of your time was so empty before. 

Of course he isn’t always around. Often disappears for days on end to the studio and long weekends away for concerts. But, he always comes looking for you when he’s done and no matter what else you get up to together, you always find yourselves back at the cafe. You’ve carved out your own territory there, a table where no one else ever seems to sit as if they know it's meant for the two of you. 

One morning you sit at it, waiting for Joost.

He strolls in later than usual, humming what sounds a lot like Numa Numa as he approaches with an extra spring in his step. He plops down unceremoniously in his usual seat across from you, fishes around in one cavernous pocket, and deposits a steel ball-gag in front of your croissant and coffee with a clatter.

“Hey, good morning. What’s this?” 

He rubs his hands together like some kind of cartoon villain. “Good morning! I’m so glad you asked! I was just thinking since, y’know, sharp teeth problem, you could wear this and then we could do whatever we want!” His eyebrows wiggle furiously. “Well, I guess we wouldn’t be able to kiss, but you know what I mean.”

“Uhhhhh.”

“I know you said you just need to get used to me but this way you don’t have to!” His giggly, somewhat bashful self of the first few weeks knowing him has melted away to leave a Joost with honestly very little shame. It was gradual, and he was never too reserved to begin with, but these days he is incorrigible. You must be rubbing off on him.

Sadly, this one isn’t up your alley.

“I’m gonna be real, that’s not happening.  Have you ever tried one of these? It’s a good idea but I can’t handle that much drool.”

“Come on, please? I won’t laugh at you I swear. And honestly-” He leans in close. “I needed to eat you out like yesterday. Can we try it?”

As much as you don’t care that everyone in the cafe has been looking at you since the second Joost whipped out a ball gag, you also don’t want to get kicked out. This is your favorite spot.

“No, put that away!” 

Joost takes it in stride but as the days pass, you can tell he’s far from done with his scheming.

At the movies and the automat and everywhere else he takes you, at his apartment and at yours where you’ve both started expecting each other, he is always nudging. Tempting you more and more while still following the rules. Little flirtations and kisses and those goddamn tiny little bites you never quite get used to. The tender press of his canines around your knuckle make your stomach swoop without fail.

You're sure Joost knows what he’s doing, what with the way he smiles that same little smile every time. 

Bastard.

It’s not like you can blame him for any of it. You want him too.

One day though, less than a week before Christmas, Joost is forced to pause his efforts. It’s a cold and gray afternoon, and though there’s no snow on the ground, every shop and every home has wreaths and candles on doors and in windows. It’s impossible not to notice what time of year it is.

When Joost comes knocking, all bundled and breathless and confused why you aren’t at the cafe, he can tell immediately that something is wrong. 

It’s a bad day, really no other way to put it. Today is your little sister’s birthday and for the third time ever, you won’t be there. 

She was a brat really, but you loved her and she is one of the few things that always makes you think of home.

That wasn’t true at first, when you spent the first few months missing all your friends and family something awful. But after you literally killed and ate someone, the fear of discovery and the fear of hurting them drove your travels farther and farther until before long, you felt like you were doing the right thing. 

Besides, the world was too big and too detailed to miss out on. Too vibrant in all of your new senses to spend your time sulking over what could never be. Most days now, home was just a passing thought.

Still, your sister never fully left your mind, and on this one day every year you have been gone, you can never help but let your mind drift over what is and what could have been. 

Joost can tell the second you open the door. You let him in without fuss, but when you answer his probing questions with little more than noncommittal grunts and squeeze him far too tight when he goes in for a hug, he starts to adjust his demeanor.

He follows you into the kitchen and you shut your laptop, still open with the work you had been using for distraction.

“So, you don’t usually pass up the gift of my presence, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I’m good. I just have a lot going on with work. Sorry I forgot to tell you I wasn’t gonna be there.”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

A pause.

“I've seen you stressed about work. Usually you’re asking me to help you find a file or proofread an email…”

“Yeah, okay, yeah. I’m a little distracted.”

“With what?”

“With-” you allow yourself to lean against him. He’s saddled up behind you as you finally come to a stop in the middle of the kitchen. His arms come around your waist and you let out a bone-rattling sigh.

There’s few places you’d rather be than in his arms, but the knowledge that even that is something you're still trying to allow yourself to have makes it hard for it to feel like a comfort right now.

“-with things at home. There are things I left behind that I can’t go back to.”

“You wish you could?”

“Sometimes.”

“You miss someone?”

“Yeah.” 

Fuck it. There’s so much you’ve already told him. Why not this.

“My sister.”

His grip relaxes slightly. You didn’t realize it had become tense. “Oh. I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Yeah.”

“I have a sister too. I don’t see her very often but it’s not because I can’t or anything. I don’t know what it would be like to not have the option.”

“Yeah.” You sniff. It seems to be the only thing you can say.

He squeezes you tight again when he hears it. “Wanna…talk about it?”

“No, not right now. I’ve been thinking about it all day and there’s nothing I can do so I might as well stop.”

“Okay. Wanna do something with me? Wanna watch a movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, how about Spiderman?” 

He knows you so well by now.

Joost coaxes you back to his apartment. Away from your work and to what you have to admit after many movie marathons is a home cinema setup superior to your own. The perfection of the couch-pillow-foot rest-cup holder placement leaves you unable to turn down the journey when the ride is only ten minutes.

Tonight, you watch Far From Home. Though you always cycle through the the Spiderman movies, it’s the one you saw with your friends the night you turned, and somehow it's the one you always come back to.

You’ve never told Joost you prefer it but he’s noticed anyway. Tonight, he pulls it out before you can ask.

By the time Peter Parker gets knocked out by Mysterio and accidentally arrives in the Netherlands via train, you're in Joost’s lap, clinging on with arms slung around his neck and face pressed into his chest, barely watching. Being sad does wonders for not being riled by his closeness. 

He holds you right back, hands at your waist, occasionally pressing light kisses to your hair as he comments on the inaccuracies of the movie’s Dutch portrayal.

“Y’know we do love soccer but honestly, no one is so super happy like this, especially not if you’re stuck in jail.”

You just hold him tighter. It’s been hours now in Joost’s presence and finally, you feel yourself unwinding. Just like always, Joost is the best distraction you’ve ever encountered. Your teeth itch of course, what with your face so close to his throat, but you ignore it so you can savor the feeling of him wrapped around you.

Joost is sweeter than you could have ever asked for. So often wants to know about your problems and offers up his time to solve them. Provides his presence and his affection when he can’t. 

Not that you have many problems. Your tech issues present the majority. 

Still, here and now, he's trying to fix everything just like he always does and it is with a deep shudder from yourself that he starts to rub your shoulders. His hands smooth down your back to your hips and back up again, reminiscent of the moments in front of cafes and shops where you always have your moment of initial acclimation.

Now, there is no pressure to the moment, no rush to get yourself under control. All you have to do is relax further into his hold and let his big hot hands melt sensation into your flesh. 

A sort of tingle accompanies his hands wherever they go. Up and down and up again. They knead at the muscles of your lower back before working their way up either side of your spine with gentle compressions of his knuckles. One big palm cups the back of your neck when his ministrations make it to the top and he takes a moment to inhale deeply from your hair.

The motions repeat over and over, up and down and back again. You would be letting him know exactly how much his efforts are appreciated if those efforts weren’t completely melting your mind.

Lingering in that liminal goo-brain space for what feels like hours, it occurs to you that every pass over your hips is gradually getting lower. Every time he works his way down your spine, his thick fingers splay just a little further over the swell of your ass.

You let him do it, fully on board with the feelings it’s inspiring in your core and too strung-out to think of why there might be any reason not to indulge. 

Before long, his hands are fully cupping your ass with every pass. Each time he spends a moment squeezing lightly before continuing the cycle. After a couple more circuits, he finally breaks the pattern and stops to hold each cheek in one huge hand, pulling back from your hair to make eye contact, asking silent permission.

You hold his gaze, unable to think further than the lazy, slow, creeping want he inspires. He made you so comfortable, so pliant and soft, why would you ever do anything other than what he wants?

You slump forward to mouth at his jaw, forgetting yourself, and his heart stutters.

His hands slide lower to the back of each thigh and his fingertips brush over your slit. It’s the first time he’s ever done anything quite so direct since that moment under the bridge and it makes you moan so loud that he pulls back once more to get a read on your face.

“Is this okay?”

“Mmm, yeah.” It’s hard to remember why such a question makes sense. His fingertips, so close to where you need them, make higher processes a herculean effort. Still, your brain is the stuff of legends, and you pull it together to consider what he means. 

“Fuck, uhhnh, gimme a sec.”

His hands don’t leave their precarious position, but make no further move. In the meantime, his mouth fills in the gap.

‘You know I bought something else. After the ball gag I mean. I was thinking handcuffs kinda do the same thing but, y’know, less drool.”

He smiles sheepishly.

“We don’t have to use them, I just wanted to tell you. It could keep your mouth away from me if I stayed down here.” he squeezes with both hands for emphasis.

“Oh.” With the strong departure from the sadness that had been consuming you and the reminder of all Joost represents, you are quickly coming back to awareness. Your gums ache in a way they haven’t for quite a while now, the tug behind your eyes making a return. “I- how would that work?”

“If I cuff you to the headboard and stay down here-”

Another squeeze for demonstrative purposes,

“-then your teeth will never come near me. We can’t kiss, after a point, but we can do other stuff. There are a lot of things I want to do to you.”

“Okay, I’m with you, but you would need like a steel headboard or something. I’ve seen the IKEA particle board slats you have going on.”

“I may have- uh, I may have bought that too.”

Oh he is a freak.

Your smile is all Joost needs to scramble to shut off the movie and scoop you up like it’s nothing, mouth on yours like a man starved. You cling to his shoulders as he slowly walks you back through the apartment. It’s a miracle you make it when he can’t be bothered to look where he’s going. 

Somehow, he neither bangs your elbow nor your knee on a door frame and all of a sudden the world shifts as you are deposited onto his bed with a bounce.

True to his word, it’s a new bed. Same dark blue comforter and faded Minecraft bed sheets but a new frame with solid metal bars. He lets you look while he fiddles with something on the bookshelf before turning back to you with a ‘clink’. 

The handcuffs, equally metal and solid, glint in the low light of his bedroom. You’ve never been into bondage per se, but just about anything Joost wants, you find yourself wanting too.

His enthusiasm never gets old. Even if the bed and the cuffs are just a means to an end, Joost picked them out for you, he picked them out and bought them because after all this time dancing around each other, he still wants to fuck you so badly. 

The tug behind your eyes is irresistible like never before. This time, you don’t fight it.

Joost takes you in, eyes wide and wanton, fixed on your own dark pools. He gives a shuddering sigh and unclicks the cuffs. “Oh, liefje, let’s start with this.”

The simple endearment used for the first time short-circuits any intelligent response. There are no words. You scoot up the bed, overcome by the word still bouncing around your skull and the hunger evident in his scent.

Laying back slowly, you lift your arms above your head as he crawls over you. 

Something about the position feels a little strange, but the thought leaves as quickly as it came when you’re distracted by cold metal clicking into place. He adjusts the cuffs gently, one on each wrist with the chain hooked around a thick steel post of the headboard. A good tug proves them to be durable and Joost lets out a breath you didn’t know he had been holding. 

Though the bedside lamp is dim, the blue of his eyes practically glows as he removes his glasses and lays them on the nightstand to admire what’s laid out before him.

It’s obvious all too soon that there are drawbacks to the position. You can’t lean up to kiss him, at least not much, can’t reach out to touch him and tuck a bright blond strand behind his ear or cup a cheek and trace his pouty bottom lip.

You need to, if you're being honest. Need to touch him and hold him and kiss him and tell him there is no one else you would ever want to do this with.

You don’t even know what that means, since there haven’t exactly been other options, but you know it’s true. 

Joost watches your squirming with increasing amusement as you test the limits of your bonds. Finally, mercifully, he parts your thighs and presses flush against you to capture your mouth. Your legs wrap around him immediately, holding him the only way you can. His scent is just as potent as it was that night under the bridge and quickly becoming stronger. It’s a good thing you’re cuffed because your willpower is already softening.

As overwhelmed as you are already, your teeth haven't dropped yet and you're thankful as he all but steals the breath from you. The increasingly desperate press of your mouths is all that's keeping you from begging him to get on with it.

You never thought you would be one to beg, but here with Joost above you, presence all encompassing and hips slotted into the cradle of your own like he belongs there, you think you would.

In the end you don’t have to. Joost pulls away all too suddenly and the hands braced at either side of your head come down to toy at the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?”

“Please!”

The transparent need in your demand short-circuits him for a moment. He says nothing, huge pupils unblinking for several long seconds before they snap down to fix on the stripe of skin that gets wider and wider as tattooed fingers slowly peel the shirt up your stomach. It would have been smart to get undressed first, but you’re both a bit beyond reason and you do your best to help as he drags it up above your head to tangle around your wrists.

He pauses again to drink you in, more bare skin than he’s had the opportunity to see yet. So much of the past months has been little more than kisses. His hands trace their way back down, over your sternum and your belly, ignoring your bra for now, until they reach the hem of your lounge pants.

Joost doesn’t ask this time, just meets your eyes and takes the nod you give without words. He removes them much easier than the shirt and whips them away to land somewhere to be found later. Hot palms smooth up your thighs and a single finger hooks into the elastic waistband of your panties.

The whine you let out as soon as he does it sends him scrambling and they are quickly tossed away to join the pants. 

Huge hands brace themselves against your inner thighs and you're made to bend your knees up to accommodate. It spreads you wide, everything on display. It’s been so long since anyone has seen you like this it’s borderline embarrassing. The way his scent picks up and his pupils nearly eclipse their blue border makes it all worth it.

He crawls forward to give you a single deep kiss.

“All good?” He breathes against your lips.

“All good.”

He shuffles back down and starts laying more kisses against your inner thighs. 

You know exactly where this is going. 

Joost’s overture that day in the cafe never strays too far from your mind. If you were wet before, now you’re positively dripping. It starts to run down your ass and you wonder if he will notice, see your desperation made flesh.

It’s unlikely, what with the way his eyes are shut tight and his brow is slack with bliss. He’s getting exactly what he wants.

Joost laves a hot stripe over the skin closest to the junction of your thigh, pauses for one maddening moment, then turns to lick into where you need him most without warning. 

Your gasp is more of a shout.

He groans in response and hooks an arm around each thigh before you can squirm away, the wet, slippery friction on your clit so intense you almost try to. He starts out with deep, long licks directly over it before he goes anywhere else, straight to the punch without teasing.

After what feels like far too much and nowhere near enough, he gives one long lick through your folds and shifts his focus lower. He lingers over your entrance, the flat of his tongue seals tight to the rim, textured buds undulating against the delicate skin making you writhe. He does it again and again, taking breaks to pull back and run the tip around the edge, tracing and circling before latching to it yet again with a wet ‘smack’.

Normal breathing is becoming impossible and when your thighs have been tensed so long they start to shake, he dips it in. 

There’s no telling what undoubtedly guttural noise you make because you are too busy wrestling with the sensation of blood blooming across your tongue and iron filling your sinuses. Every teasing nudge inside your pussy sends your fangs digging deeper into your lip. 

The brief agitation from earlier has returned, but now you know what it is. There’s nothing actually wrong, it’s just so much harder to bite lying on your back. The urge you usually manage to suppress is now front and center of all thought. As always, pleasure seems inextricably tied to predation.

You need to pin Joost and bite him and feel him struggle but you also need his delicious weight on top of you and his hands around you and his tongue inside you and you can’t have both.

You feel insane.

Joost’s groans are heavy, the vibrations rolling through you as he lazily pumps his tongue deeper, nose grinding into your swollen clit. He settles into a pattern. Deep, languid tongue-fucking followed by licks to either sider of your bud, close but not close enough, before directly grinding the flat of his tongue into it a few times and then starting the process all over again. 

The cuffs are fighting a battle of their own above you. Every time Joost switches targets the headboard gives a heavy creak.

You hardly notice. It’s taking all your remaining brain power just to try not to squeeze him too hard with your thighs. Though, it might be okay since every time you do he lets out a groan, far too pleased for what is probably a legitimate threat to his skull.

Blood drips down your chin now, your canines deep in your bottom lip when you hear it:

A shuffle.

A rustle.

A slight sway to the mattress.

He takes your clit between his lips and sucks hard. The bedsprings give a pathetic wheeze as your head slams back and your spine arches as a squeal rips out of you. 

The rhythmic swaying picks up the pace.

When Joost finally gives you a second of reprieve to kiss at your thigh, hot heavy breaths fanning over you, the gentle swaying continues. Puzzled, you find the willpower to lift your head and shakily unlock your thighs from where they have become earmuffs.

It’s hard to place it at first, the incessant tongue back on your skin and sharp iron in your mouth more than distracting, but then you notice. 

Gently, 

slowly, 

almost tenderly, 

Joost’s hips roll down into the mattress.

It might be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

The way his brow has started to knit as he ruts instinctively, pleasure seeping up his spine as he gets off on your own. The way his hips jerk softly like he isn’t even aware, like his body is just making him do it. The way his sweats have slid down to reveal the dark material of his boxers, snug against the muscles of his ass that are working insistently. 

You can’t handle it. You have to do something, anything. Your hands whip down to bury your fingers in his hair as you grind up into his mouth and lose your mind.

Your fingers in…his hair?

He flinches. Makes a pathetic noise as he withdraws his tongue. The sudden hard stop to the blissful sensation all the more highlights the bright red sheeting from his brow.

In your pleasure, the cuffs ripped like paper. Both loops are still attached but the chain, now broken, swings freely from your right wrist, bloody from where it lanced him deep across the temple.

Oh.

Fuck.

Joost has never bled in front of you before. Not a single scratch or cut, not even a hangnail. 

It's like hearing colors or tasting music. Now that the source of his scent isn’t trapped under his skin, it is so much more potent than you could have ever prepared for. You could never have built a tolerance to this. 

The sudden certainty of a guaranteed meal, the knowledge that your strength is superior, that you've won, it overwhelms you in an instant and the sureness of it almost leaves you calm. You're going to get what you want. There's nothing that could possibly stop you. And why should it? 

The only thing that keeps you from destroying him on the spot is the look on his face.

It’s all happening within seconds. He’s still mid-recoil. His face screws up now that the pain is starting to register, blank confusion twisting to stricken agony. 

It’s nothing like you imagined. 

Those nights alone when you think about Joost and can’t quite control that deep, savage part of your mind, the part that's been there ever since you woke up bloody in the middle of the street all those years ago, you never imagined it like this.

That inhuman part of you was sure his pain would be something beautiful. Even if the logical majority of you protested, somewhere deep down, you always expected it to be true. 

Maybe it’s the added shock of the sudden blow, maybe it’s just the wrong kind of pain, but the hurt on his face is terrible.

Not pleasure-pain like when you press on a bruise you accidentally gave him the day before and he can’t help the way his eyelids flutter, not like when your sharp nails dig into his back when you go in for a kiss and he picks you up and you have to hold on tight as he groans into your mouth.

Just pain.

Your heart folds in.

You’re rolling off the bed and shooting to your feet before Joost can even look at you, too busy staring at the blood on his fingers as he draws them back from his forehead, shaking.

It’s physically painful to turn away. You grab your phone with enough force to rattle the night stand and make yourself walk towards the door. Every sense is cranked to eleven and every reflex and muscle fiber is dialed in, all strength and no precision as you work against your instincts. Every base impulse is screaming at you to turn back and take what is right in front of you.

There’s no running away this time, just brute force resistance.

There’s so much blood.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m gonna get someone, just stay there. Stay there.” The words are choked as you use every ounce of willpower to force yourself into the hall. You don’t know if he hears you and you can’t afford to look back to check.

His gasps of pain almost sound erotic now without the visual evidence of his suffering and it makes you want to turn around and devour him.

When you recognize the thought, you hate yourself just a little.

You wrestle into your long winter coat and manage not to break the front door as you unlock it. Joost calls out your name just before it slams shut behind you.

Outside in the cold, damp, wind whipped darkness, there is enough of a disconnect from what’s inside that you can feel control come back online. 

You want to run but you make yourself walk, thankful your coat covers your bare ass, as you prioritize sending a cryptic but detailed text to 112 and then dialing the one other person that can possibly help. Tantu answers on the third ring.

“Tantu. I need you to check on Joost. I need you to go over to his place right now and it can’t wait.”

“What? What do you mean? Did he call you?”

“No it’s- Tantu please just do it. Please. Will you check on him?”

“Yes, yeah, I will, what’s going on?”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes! I’m putting on my coat! Tell me what’s wrong!”

“Please hurry, Tantu.”

You hang up, cutting off what sounds like a curse. 

He’s a good friend, you can tell. It’s a good thing you have his number. You don’t know any of Joost’s other friends. Honestly, you barely know Tantu. Joost talks about them often and with love but you’ve just never met them. 

It’s mostly Joost’s efforts to try not to spook you, to ease you into knowing him without pressure. You let it slip once that you try not to make close connections for practical reasons and he let up on group invites quickly, if a little disappointed. Anything to keep you around and unwilling to gamble with being the exception.

The trill of your phone makes you slow once more. 

It’s Joost.

He’s okay. Okay enough to call at least. Hopefully emergency medical or Tantu gets there soon.

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Your phone continues to buzz as he calls again. 

And then again.

You wanted to see if this could work, whatever this is. It felt possible once. Felt like one day you would say yes to meeting his friends, like you would feel close enough to ask him about his past and maybe even tell him the full truth about yours, felt like one day you might finally adjust enough to be able to love him properly. 

Because you do love him. 

You’ve known it and denied it but you do.

You do and it didn't stop you. Such a small mistake, made so easily and unconsciously and almost the end of his life.

You love him and that’s why as you walk down the street, completely enveloped in abyssal shadow, no moon in sight, you know that when you get home you’re going to pack your things.

[chocochiffonnn]

Love Box

➸ Pairing: Nishimura Riki x Student! Reader (ft.Jungwon of Enhypen)

➸ Word Count: 21k. (removed some parts)

➸ Synopsis: The Love Box was a sacred treasure to the students of Decelis Academy where students pour their heart to people they admire anonymously. One of your responsibilities as the Radio Club president was to read the letters from the miraculous box. You previously hoped to have the ideal high school romance, as you were one of the victims of the aforementioned Love Box. Things don't work out as planned, though, and you find yourself in a romantic turmoil again when the recipient of your letter returns from their abrupt absence. 

➸ Themes: Higschool lovers to strangers, to lovers again. Fic is set in Japan (though Enhypen members are included and have Korean names lol), heavily inspired from the anime Ao Haru ride, and that one romance J-drama I saw a few years back, and another fanfic of Riki that I got inspired from.

➸ Warnings: Reader gives in quite often, Riki is very much a tease but a shy boy at the same time, a sliver of that love triangle, tooth-rotting fluff, a lot of cursing, it has that field trip and jealousy trope thats so typical lol.

➸ Author's Note: its finally here! thank you so much guys for waiting and supporting my first ever full on fic! i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! its such a cute romance story!

➸ Taglist: @rikidaze @yangjungwonnie @iboughtnjz @murazbae @shi-toshi @tasnemluvs @btsreadss @katslv0nyu @wondash @honey-bunnysweet @opheliaas-stuff @sadgirlluvsmoney @saeeeee5 @sol3chu @jisel8 (i cant seem to find this user?? im sorry!!)

THE START OF APRIL SYMBOLIZED NEW BEGINNINGS—Something new, something marking the cherry blossoms that effortlessly tumble across your hometown's pavement. Spring, as though you'd call it. And in a country like Japan, evidently, such a season is highly acknowledged

Which, ultimately, led to the idea of dreading school.

During summer break, refusing to go home was in every teenager's nature.

During school, however, going home seemed like comfort more than it should be.

And so, the hustle and bustle of the city did not aid your restlessness, constantly fidgeting and tapping your foot against the concrete's sidewalk as you wait for the red light to turn green.

Once it does, you strap your bag just a tad bid closer and begin to walk.

Dreading school has rarely ran through your mind. Rather, you found it enjoyable, memorable, even. However, whenever it does, the cause of such is because of one thing only— your school's club.

Taking the role and responsibility of being an officer in your school's Radio Club does wonders. Your tasks were simple: aid the Journalism club and announce the daily announcements to the whole facility. The latter, included playing music recommendations from students via CDs that they'd send, and most of all, reading random love confessions from the club's confession box.

It was a sporadic idea that started a couple of years back, by the previous president of the club. The reason being was the Radio Club's diminishing presence. With but a few members, and on the verge of of, "extinction" by the school, the club had to do something.

Which led to the confession box— the Love Box. The tactic had been effective, as during your freshman year, you went as far as tiptoeing to the club's room, slotting your heart-filled letter to the confession box to— someone unbeknownst to you now— and scurrying like you'd committed the biggest crime.

Something differed now, though.

And then, something inspired you to join the club the following year. It had already garnered a couple of members prior to you joining, but eventually, with your perhaps unknowing charm and slight knowledge in radio broadcasting (given your interest in them), you were soon given the position of vice president during your junior year.

You step into the asphalt building of your high school, it's gate accumulating a ridiculous amount of baby pink blossoms— one cascaded down your fingertips. You touch it gently. Something's different, because now, by all technicality, you are the president of the Radio club.

Which meant twice the responsibility, and twice the stress from wholeheartedly reading the letters from the Love Box.

As the president of the club, and taking it upon yourself to announce for the first day of school you arrived a couple of minutes earlier to prepare and rehearse the script at hand.

You made your way into the facility, to the room you've come to frequent during your free time. With the key— having been given to you by the previous president— you haphazardly and excitedly open the door.

It had been a little over two months since you'd step foot here, yet it feels indifferent as ever. You settled your bag somewhere, nearing the radio system, preparing, checking the sound, and testing it to ensure a smooth flow.

Then you go over your script, a couple of minutes pass.

fom behind the door, you hear the aimless chatter of the students. How their summer had progressed, little escapades and adventures, various topics that you could fathom.

Then, you tap the mic and finally spoke,

"The song for today is titled Cherry Blossom by Dept and Ashley Alisha."

Oh, I feel spring is coming And if you could be mine for the season I could show you why you need me, baby

"Happy first day of school, students of Decelis Academy! We're kicking it off with an upbeat song."

So if you're feeling lonely, dear Then throw away all other reasons You can blossom like the trees do, baby

"How is everyone's summer break? The Radio club wishes it was prosperous and enjoyable to everyone."

No, don't you know, like the flowers grow You can grow to have commitment, baby

"Now, we turn to a new page and chapter in our academic life. Leave the troubles and problems behind, and face today with a smile."

So trust me only if you're really okay to give me your love This might never come back again

"The assembly will begin in ten minutes, all students please proceed to the gymnasium."

And when the flowers bloom I hope that we can, too

" Let's all make this year a good one, everyone!"

And we'll blossom in love Cherry blossoms and us

"I seriously cannot believe you right now!"

"Hey— Ow! Stop I said I was being serious!"

When school rolls around, it is practically inevitable for random bruises to appear in your arm.

"I missed you too, Rei." You wince in pain, rubbing your arm. Following your radio announcement, the assembly, and the students settling down their perspective seats, you find yourself, well... In the very same classroom and section as your best friend, Rei.

Short and stubborn, an individual who has terrible eyesight but great knack in discriminating others— Rei was the perfect salt to your sugar, Clyde to your Bonny, hate to your love— she was anything and everything alike; your complete opposite.

If you do so much as take a liking to someone, her immediate response would be— he's short, he's weird, he's rowdy, why are his grades low?

And it didn't matter, for whenever you do end up taking an infatuation to someone, say that senior the previous year, who was practically the epitome of perfect, Rei would have nothing to say. So, in short, her radar is never cut short. She's strict, but protective in a way. And when she finds out no flaws, she's all ears and no mouth. She was practically like the little eyes to your blind body.

"As if!" Rei scoffs, she's stubborn, too. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you got a cat. I could've come over and we could have cuddled!"

You rolled your eyes, "As if, you'd pretend I didn't even exist and all you'd care about is the cat!" Rei snickers, "Totally."

You laugh, looking at the window. Despite the totally overbearing pressure on your shoulders as a senior, on the bright side, your classroom was located at the third floor. And by some random luck, your seat was right beside the window, making it easy for you to feel the breeze and comfort of the air.

Perhaps with such a view, you'd think way less of your future, your college, the career you aren't even sure of pursuing, your life and—

"You have to stop with that look." Rei cuts off with a scoff, "What look?" you practically shot back.

"Like the world is practically against you, like you're in a war or something." You look over her direction, she rolls her eyes, "Come on, let's go get something to eat to distract you."

And as always, somehow, she was always just aware of whatever the hell runs through your mind.

Melon bread, a milk bread, and a carton of banana milk were all you took from the school cafeteria. You and Rei head over to pay for your food when your eyes suddenly scan over a piece of fish shaped bread; bunggeopang. What once used to be your favorite— now, it had only reminded you a bit of something— an empty, hollow, hole. Once, it was filled to the brim with stars and colors.

You shoved the incredulous thoughts away. You're crazy. You immediately thought. Pondering over something that once lingered in the past. It was stupid, it was ridiculous, it was—

"It was him, I really swear it was!"

"Are you sure? You're probably just hallucinating."

"No, he's like, back or something, I heard."

A student abruptly bumps into you, causing you to stumble and lose your footing. Luckily, Rei grabs hold of your arm and stabilizes you, "You good?" She asks, turning her heel to curse at the said students, but you stop and reassure her otherwise.

"I'm good, it was no big deal." You laugh, brushing it off. Rei rolls her eyes, "I swear, students don't know how to watch where they're going these days." She says. You only laugh, paying for your snacks over the counter, "They really don't."

You leave the cafeteria, walking with Rei side by side. Not far away from it, you hear an assembly of boisterous screams and squeals on the way to your classroom. It hadn't perked of much importance, until a student who'd absent-mindedly walked beside you with a friend spoke,

"Who's back?"

"I heard Nishimura Riki's back."

You try your hardest not to puke, you really do. But the name that lolls of the tongue of the person has your mind running and circles, your stomach doing flips, and your mind tumbling in a jumble.

Who, exactly, was back?

"Nishimura Riki's back?!"

It was as if they could hear you.

You felt your soul parting from your physical body, it's remnants floating in the air to be taken for the gods as they laughed below, at your horrendous, terrified, alarmed face.

It was laughable, really. How you remained frozen, still, unnerved. It was impossible to move your feet, they weren't budging. The food you carried had felt twice its size— you really could not move.

"Hey, hey, are you okay? Why're you just—"

"Rei, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Rei was confused. But before she could do so much as to get a word out, you drag her arm across the hallway and lead her towards the other end with hurried steps.

"Hey— what are you doing! Our classroom's—"

And you lead her to somewhere a little more desert where the squeals and screams were still in line with your ears, but not enough to garner attention. You spoke, "I heard from them that Nishimura Riki is back."

"He's— What?!"

You nod, repeatedly. Twisting, turning, shaking your whole entire existence. "I just felt my body freeze up there, oh my gosh."

"What do you mean, he's back?" Rei repeats and you confirm her question. Nishimura Riki is back.

The Nishimura Riki— the person you dedicated your letter inside that Love Box during your freshman year.

Nishimura Riki— the person who was a friend, but more than a friend.

Nishimura Riki— the person who was less than a boyfriend.

That was, until he left to god knows where without a trace.

And now, he's suddenly back?

"Oh, the nerve he has to—"

"Don't." You interject. Rei's reaction was exactly what you'd imagine, and as much as it poses as a problem in your already anxious brain, you didn't want to make the problem bigger than it ought to be.

"It's... Fine." You say to Rei with a weak smile. It wasn't.

"Is it really, though? That bastard left without a trace, not even a single clue! And he has the nerve to come back."

You feel Rei's anger bubble up, though you couldn't fight back. You felt the exact same, a burning sensation coiling in the pits of your stomach. In the back of your mind, ran a million questions.

What is he doing back here?

Why did he leave with no so much as a trace?

What could he be doing that led him to disappear like a ghost?

Most importantly— how was he doing?

You hated yourself for even thinking of the latter part, yet much was true. As much as you ached to slap him in his face due to anger, part of you couldn't help but think how he's doing now. Is he doing good? Eating good? Taking care of himself?

But you keep it as a thought, partly because you know Rei would kill you if you do so much as voice it out, and also because why would you dare say something like that to the man who broke your heart?

"I know, but I've let it go, I promise." You muster up another smile. You haven't.

Rei looks at you, and despite already knowing the answer, she lets it go. "Are you sure?"

You nod, and she intertwines her arms with yours, "Don't worry, I won't let him get to you, I really swear."

Good, because if she doesn't, you feared you might be the one to come to him instead.

"Yeah, thank you."

Arm in arm you began to resurface and walk with Rei towards your classroom. The squealing had died down a bit, indicating that perhaps his obnoxiously still present fan base had gone off.

You heaved a sigh of relief, and headed towards your classroom, you could only hope you wouldn't bump into him. For today, tomorrow, and the rest of the year as well.

The bell finally rings, the teacher having had enough of their lecture.

It was lunch time now.

Today was like any other, despite it being the first day of school. Rei would go and eat with her club members, as you would head to the Radio club room and read some anonymous confessions placed inside the Love Box. It was a specific highlight of your day.

Some of the letters would contain random confession you had an inkling idea on who the writer would be, some would contain little notes for advice and you'd wholeheartedly offer it.

You liked to consider yourself a pretty good consultant when it came to relationships.

Of course, when it came to yours— that was a different question, and a different point altogether.

You make your way towards the room after waving a short goodbye to your friend, immediately putting the box inside and unlocking it with your magical keys.

As it had been the first day of school, you half-expected a bundle of letters to come pouring out. It was usually like this, a sudden burst of love confessions once the first day of school began, receding to occasional ones as the weeks pass by.

You were right, though, as your fingertips come into contact with one of the letters in a soft baby pink envelope, its color closely resembling cherry blossoms. A stupid, lovesick grin makes its way into your features. There were a couple more, some just plain white envelopes, some embedded with kiss marks and cute designs that you couldn't help but coo.

Over the course of lunch, you'd read over these letters, sometimes going through half, sometimes accomplishing the tasks of finishing them.

However, with today's bunch, it seems it would take you until tomorrow. You really had to call a meeting with your members for a rotation for the readings of these letters.

You make your way towards the radio system, setting it up once more and preparing the baby pink letter, its contents, delicate and fragile against your fingertips.

"Good afternoon, this is the Radio Club, we've finally arrived for the most awaited part of the day."

You smile,

"But first, let's play a song that was requested to me by a student."

You grab the CD, tuning it in and playing the song.

"Everything Has Changed but Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran."

As you read, you lower down the volume.

All I knew This morning when I woke Is I know something now Know something now I didn't before

"To the person I really love the most,"

And all I've seen Since eighteen hours ago Is green eyes and freckles and your smile In the back of my mind making me feel like

"It's a little bit stupid not admitting my feelings out loud and putting up a facade in order to confess, but this was the best I could muster, really."

I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now I just wanna know you, know you, know you

"But we've been avoiding like crazy each other these past few days, what could I possibly do? I'm scared of your response, scared of what you'll say to me. I've never felt anything like this before."

Cause all I know is we said, "Hello" And your eyes look like comin' home All I know is a simple name And everything has changed

"We aren't like this before, it's driving me insane, you know? I hinted all of a sudden that I liked you, and then you're in complete avoidance right after! It's scary..."

All I know is you held the door You'll be mine and I'll be yours All I know since yesterday

"Falling in love is scary... I do know of one thing though— I really like you, so, so, so much. I hope... This letter reaches you well, somehow."

Is everything has changed

You read a few more letters, playing along some of the recommended and handed CDs to you by your peers and schoolmates, ultimately reading enough as the bell rang once more and you had to wrap up and broadcast your final announcements.

You fixed your stuff, engulfing your thoughts in the letter you'd just read, feeling a familiar pit bubble up. The person the writer reached out to was in complete avoidance, in denial of their feelings. What a shame. You thought. You hoped, though, they are able to solve that problem sooner or later.

Lack of communication is hell, even worse than breaking up itself. You have no closure, have nothing at all. A sudden knock came upon your door, assuming it had been Rei, you mumble a short ‘come in.’ You hear the door creak, your back faced the person as you continued arranging your things,

"I'm almost done with this!"

"Hey, the teacher's looking for you."

A deep voice chimed in, one that’ defintely did not belong to Rei.

Rei's voice isn't that deep, that low, and raspy either. What? Has she caught a cold or something?

You turn around, only to be proven wrong. And then, the sudden urge to barf and flee returned within an instant.

Indeed, what was in front of you right now was not Rei.

It was Nishimura Riki, in the flesh.

"Ah... I see..." You mumble more so to yourself, panic rushing all over your body as you hurriedly put your notebooks in your bag. One came falling down, the rest following suit. You curse beneath your breath, kneeling down and picking it up.

You hadn't felt him come near, only taking sensation of it once of his hands aided you in grabbing the notebook, fingertips brushing against yours. A short electric jolt was sent through your spine, from your vision, all you could see were his veiny and long hands, stacking your notebooks and handing them to you.

Nothing else, not even his arms, his head, his eyes, nothing.

"Do you always bring this much stuff?" He chuckles. It was the first time you hear him chuckle in a year. The mysterious feeling appeared, the urge to puke having been long gone. Yet you don't answer, your own mouth betraying you and lacking to give some sort of answer.

Instead, you fixate yourself on your bag.

"Thank you." Was all you mumble, standing up once you were done and Riki follows suit. Finally, you gained the courage to take a peek at his features.

Not much has changed, really.

Except... His voice was way deeper, he was way taller, features more sharper than before.

Gosh. Is it really possible to change this much in just a year?

Perhaps it was just you thinking of such. After all, you have Riki memorized like the back of your hand. It didn't matter where he was, in a large and rollicking crowd, you'd be able to tell him apart.

Now, you weren't so sure.

A smug grin makes its way to his features. "You done staring?"

Well, he's still as cocky as ever, that feature of his remained.

You scoff, rolling your eyes, "As if." and brushing past him like air. You had to make him believe you were unfazed with his presence suddenly appearing with the snap of a finger. You had to make him think, "Oh, I wasn't such a big deal to her? That hurts."

As much as he was a bigger problem than anything else, you refused to back down.

After what he's done? Over your dead body.

"Why was she looking for me, by the way?"

You say, as your back faces Riki. You don't turn around, so you don't acknowledge the fact that he's already besides you, hands in his pocket, shrugging his shoulders. Stupid ass long legs.

"Something about me, I guess. Maybe she wants to reunite us?" The latter part of his sentence had a hint of mischief in it, but you were not having it. "That would be the president's job, not mine."

"And could you move out? I need to lock and close the doors."

"Woah, you've got a bit of a bite now, I like it." He laughs, following your instructions anyways and exiting the room.

“Anyways, thanks for that. You can go now, if you need to catch up on some things, please do so by approaching the class president.”

You walk away after locking the door, hurried and brief, fully intent on brushing him off. But Nishimura Riki stays grounded, walking alongside you, even having the nerve to place his unimaginably long hands atop your head and ruffling your hair.

It’s what he’s always done before, a habit of his which was dangerous. It didn’t help that there were students around, gaining you some questionable looks. “Stop that.”

“The teacher told me to bring you along. Not call you.”

Great. As if this was making the circumstance any better.

“I see, fantastic.” Sarcastic.

Riki pretended to feign hurt, teasingly poking his heart with a finger, “Ouch. I missed you too.”

“And I—“ you look at him straight in the eye, and he does the same. You frown, “Don’t. So stop acting so chummy with me.”

Behind Riki’s playful words, his eyes painted itself with something like… Hurt. But you must’ve been mistaken, because a second after, he was teasing you again. “You’re reaalllyyyy stubborn now. It’s cute.”

“Stop.” You say, distancing yourself from him just a bit as you make your way towards the teacher’s office. Riki doesn’t pry any further, opting to give you a playful laugh as he inserts his hands in his school pants.

God, if you hear him laugh again, you would go insane. As in— I miss your laugh, I wanna kiss you type of insane.

Which is not even good.

The two of you finally reached the office, knocking gentle and entering after hearing a come in from your teacher. Contrary to what you had been hoping, Niki was right. The teacher truly believing that you had now reconnected like old pals (deeming it as a situation which you are aware Riki left) and ultimately, putting you up against a situation you know you would regret in the long run— to help him catch up with tasks and work.

Which, how did that even make sense?

It’s the first day of school! He quite literally has nothing to catch up on. According to your teacher, however, most of the subjects would base and stem from your previous subjects during your junior year, which of course would naturally make it hard for Riki to catch up. That’s where you come in, apparently. The task was simple: tutor Nishimura Riki until he gets his ass settled down.

What, did he not do school in whenever the hell he disappeared to?

He doesn’t even need to settle down, its his old school! He knows every nook and cranny.

“It’s just going to be beneficial for the three of us, you two are already close so it won’t be much of a hassle to navigate through and help Riki.”

“Not clo—“

“Thank you, Mrs Koichi-san.” Riki smugly grins at the teacher, “I’ll make sure to listen well to Y/N.” Then he looks at you, smiling faintly. Though from the back of your head, it felt sarcastic and forced.

“She’s a great mentor, after all.”

Mrs-Koichi smiled. “Thank you, Y/N. I expect nothing less of you.”

There it was again. The overbearing expectance of something. Of course, there had to be something. You offered her a tight-lipped smile back. You couldn’t refuse, you couldn’t dare to do so now.

“Sure, Mrs-Koichi. I’ll make sure to fill Riki in on the missing tasks.”

As forced as it may sound, it didn’t feel too bad in the back of your head.

Perhaps it was just the little voices screaming inside your head, the little demon and angel bearing upon your shoulders. This wasn’t good. But at the same time, this was what you’ve been waiting for the whole time. It didn’t feel too good, though.

Riki and you turn to leave the office after a short bow, the awkward silence hanging in the air. Maybe it was only you that felt that way. Riki breaks the silence, “So… When are you available?”

“What?”

“I said when are you available, I actually do need catching up.”

You see his sheepish gaze, the way he reluctantly scratches the nape of his neck with his hand.

“You’re actually serious?”

He looks at you like some sort if joke. “Why would I not be?”

“Well…”

You ponder, but opted close your mouth. Riki is not the type to care about such stuff. Though you said you’d fill the words of expectations of your teacher, regardless of what you do, you’ve always pegged and known him the type to just not care at all. Countless have you tried to get him to care a little bit more about his studies, given the fact that he was part of the basketball team and being a fragment of that team meant having somewhat considerable grades.

He did, but he only ever does so much. Bare minimum, per se. Enough to have his spot kept at the basketball team, and enough to earn him a scolding from his mother the moment she sees his grade.

So, this was rather a surprise to you. “Um… When do you want to start?”

He grins, a glint of surprise feigning his eyes, “Are you free later after class?”

You think about it. Rei wouldn’t be too pleased about the situation at hand, but you are only helping Riki with his grades. After this, everything will completely dissipate.

Right?

“Yeah, sure. At the library it is, then.” You nod towards him, Riki smiles softly, suddenly ruffling your hair once more. “See ‘ya then.”

Then before you could even do or say something, he was walking off like the most nonchalant person ever. Like he didn’t just make your stomach tumble in agony, like he didn’t just capture a thousand, million butterflies and stuffed them inside your mouth and mouth saying— It doesn’t matter it feels like you’re pushing me aside, I still got to you anyways! Hah!’

“You’re stupid.”

“I know.”

“Knowing doesn’t count, I have to drill that into you— youre oblivious and stupid.”

“I’m not oblivious! Just stupid and— ugh. You know what? I don’t see the point in defending myself.”

“Good, because you don’t have much of a fight anyways.”

Rei scolds you.

As she always does when you end up making some sort of stupid decision. And by all decisions and every decision ever— This was your stupidest one by far. It had dawn upon you, how ridiculous the situation really is. You couldn’t justify yourself, what is there to justify? Your lingering feelings?

“I’m just helping him, okay? The teacher wanted me to do it.”

“And? Why couldn’t Mrs-Koichi ask like, I don’t know, someone from his class, like— the class president. I know she must have a major crush on him or something.”

You remove your hands from your tangled hair, the words picking at you. “What?”

“You know? Naomi. She’s always the class president in whatever class she’s in.”

“She’s the class president?"

“I mean, there’s no technical election yet from what I heard but it’s practically obvious. It’s like, a tradition at this point.”

Kazu Naomi.

You had no particular beef or dispute with her, except for maybe the fact that she was too perfect for your liking. Always at the top of her class, prim and proper— she was as pristine as a diamond could possibly be. Teachers rarely reprimanded her, students coo at the mention of her name. She was as ideal as ideal could possibly be.

During your freshman year, she’d taken a particular liking to Nishimura Riki, unbeknownst to you. She hadn’t done so much as to voice it out, but girl to girl, you fervently felt it. Felt the way she scooted a tad bit closer to Riki whenever she talked to him, felt the way she scooped a strand of her hair behind her ear in an attempt to make it look cute, the way she delicately spoke like a fragile little flower in front of him, attempting the most obvious things to try and get his attention.

And you couldn’t blame her, because she always had the means to do so. She was pretty, kind, outgoing, and confident too. Someone who’d perfectly balance Nishimura Riki’s stoic, stern, and ridiculously cocky demeanour. But, well, life takes surprising terms at times and by the end of it, the thoughts of them together were but a lingering fantasy for majority of the students' mind. Wondering, why you out of Naomi? Wondering, what exactly made you different?

She only do so much as let her admiration linger.

And you feel this very moment right now that it still lingers. But it shouldn’t matter, it was really none of your business. It really shouldn't matter, you think to yourself as you scribble down the possibilities of the two getting together given they are in the same class. It really, really shouldn't matter.

"I hope you know you're stupid and you know what you're getting yourself into."

Last period, you had yourself in a little frenzy. Minutes had felt like hours, and once the clock had finally ticked and it was time to go, you bolted as fast as you possibly could and fixed your things.

Rei sensed your hurriedness, and in no particular attempt to try and stop you, she just sighs and ought to give a warning. Which, ultimately surprised you as you halted to look at her, "You're not pulling me away or something like that?"

As what she'd always do when a guy doesn't pass her radar.

She just shrugs, "I don't really want you miserable and coming to me after. Or, have you miserable because you were too much of a wuss."

You just snort, "I suppose it wouldn't help if I tell you that— no, I don't really know what in the world I'm getting myself into."

"I know that."

"How?"

"I just do. Now go and help that guy get his shit together."

You smile, and with the heels of your feet, the tight clasp of your hands against each other, and a loudly beating heart— you just ran.

"What subjects in particular do you need help with?" You scan a particular textbook, a couple of books splayed across the table in front of you.

Beside, was Nishimura Riki who mindlessly rolled his pen around his fingertips. It was 3PM, a couple of hours before the library closes. Tutoring him for perhaps a single subject would suffice, two if you were lucky.

Riki hums to ponder, then he speaks, "Chemistry. I suck at it."

You nod, "I checked the curriculum, if it's right, I suppose we'll be tackling Intermolecular forces first." Riki nods along as you skim through the contexts of the chemistry book and handout for your grade level. It was not a particularly hard topic but succeeding these would mean to a new topic filled with computation.

You know it was Riki's waterloo, so you proceeded to explain such concepts in the most basic manner. You sat beside him, pencil in hand as you wave your hands around in an attempt to discuss the topic at hand. From your peripheral vision, Riki listens.

Albeit slouching, laying his head atop his hand and his arm resting lazily on the table, Riki listens. Silent, unnerved... Just attentive. Attentive of the way you mumble 'hmm' every time you messed a word up, the way you furrow your brows when thinking, the way you click your pen around.

He doesn't listen to whatever the hell that Intermolecular force is— he listens to you.

Unmindful of his actions, Riki's hands come to lose being astray as his left makes its way towards a strand of your hair— your bangs. His fingertips unconsciously move a strand of hair away from your features, an occurrence that makes you halt and freeze.

Riki soon realizes that he's done because he pulls back the second after, choking on his own words as he apologizes. "There was... There was something in your face." He defends.

You nod slowly, feeling the tinge of heat creep up your cheeks. "I see." Were all the words you can muster.

"I swear it—" Riki pulls back, "Don't bark up another snarky response, please god, no."

A sudden chuckle leaves your mouth, "What? Are you afraid of it or something." it was a rhetorical question, one that he answers, "Yes."

You eye him seriously for a second, then you scoff, mumbling beneath your breath, "Serves you right."

Riki gasps exasperatedly, "What?"

"I said, serves you right." You repeat this time, with a bit more force and weight as you dared to look at him, Riki looks at you with, surprised, but intrigued. "Are you... Mad at me right now?"

"I'm not. Why would I be? I have no reason to be."

Riki just snorts, poking your cheek ever so gently, "Why're you acting like that then?"

"Like what?"

"Like your boyfriend just left you or something."

Does Riki even know? It did indeed feel like that. It had felt like a thousand crumbling worlds was lunged at you, Riki doesn't know that. It did indeed felt like you lost a boyfriend— hell, you weren't even in a relationship.

You stay silent, choosing not to respond as you choke back your tumbling words that threatened to escape. Riki must've sensed this, because the very next minute, he was apologizing again. "Ah— No, I didn't mean it that way. Hey, are you crying? I'm sorry. Shit— fuck, I'm sorry."

It seems there must be some things that you cannot choke back. One of this, was your bulging urge to break down. Tears unknowingly flow from your eyes, Riki panics and takes out his handkerchief, closing the distance between you and him. He holds your chin gently, tilting it upwards and dabbing away your tears delicately. His face remained concern, apologetic, and stained with worry.

But he doesn't let you go, doesn't trouble with the way you gush your whole entire pent up, builded tears. Instead, he scoots just a tad bit closer, letting go of his hold on your chin and rubbing your neck with his left hand. He feels warm and indifferent.

And when you finally stopped crying, sniffling away the remaining snobs, did you finally look at him.

"Sorry, forget that happened."

Riki shakes his head, "It's okay... It's my fault, really."

You nod, agreeing with what he'd just said. "Can I— Can I maybe explain this whole entire thing to you?"

"After a year of leaving me out the dark? I don't really think so."

Riki looks at you, soft and tender, "I swear I have a reason and I don't want to get you involved. It's difficult, it's just—"

"And you know whatever it was I'd understand that."

Riki pauses, then he nods, "I'm sorry it's just... Everything at home makes it difficult for me to explain."

"Is it..." You tread carefully, "Is it something about your father again?"

Riki hesitantly nods. "It is, and we had to move to cities because of him being an ass."

You understood that part, "What about the sudden disappearance?"

At this point, Riki had not really let you go, still clasping your neck with his left hand and the other somehow intertwining with your hands. He rubs it with his thumb as he speaks, "I wanted to forget everything here, I thought I could. But I couldn't, I really couldn't. Especially not this and... Not you."

Something about his words felt oddly comforting, despite the fact that his initial intention was to eradicate perhaps even the smallest, fleeting moments with you. But you couldn’t blame him, not when his eyes this very moment lacked the particular mischief he always carried.

He looked at you with such softness, and it didn’t help that you were looking at him with those eyes.

Riki groans, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. “What’s wrong?” You ask him.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He lets go of his grip on your neck, rubbing his eyes, “Looking at you like what?”

“Like that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“I might just kiss you if you don’t stop.”

His words made you choke, turning your head around to avoid his gaze. “What the heck are you talking about…”

Riki chuckles, still caressing your hand with his thumb, “Sorry, might have gone too far there.”

Flustered, you turn your head around to smack him in the chest. Riki allows you once, the second time, he grabs hold of your wrist and drives it towards his face. Unconsciously, you open your palms and allow him to place it beneath his cheeks.

His cheekbones, sharp and defined. Riki was no longer a silly little boy who was the very epitome of the devil itself. Aside from his very notable physical changes in his features, Riki felt… More relaxed, composed, and less rowdy. Despite the fact that he’s always kept to himself even now, something about him, though not significant to some, something about him really shifted.

You couldn’t deny the fact that he is attractive. That was a given, a fact that was not only shared by you, but also perhaps anyone who saw him at a first glance.

It was stupid, stupid really. How you let him linger his fingertips within your proximity, how you let him let his gaze last a little bit longer because you liked it too. You liked it when he stared at you like that and nobody else.

Was that too selfish?

Riki hums, nuzzling his head further into your warm palm and closing his eyes. He looks at you, grinning, “You good?”

But he knew you weren’t. You know you aren’t. You were gonna explode.

Riki laughs, pulling your hand back and kissing the back of it, “Mmm…”

“Riki…”

He hums.

“What are you thinking of right now?”

“Me?”

You nod. “You’re doing all this to me and yet— I still can’t read your mind. I don’t know what you’re thinking of, it’s driving me insane.”

Sighing, you pull your hands back away from his grip and let it settle upon your lap, fumbling with the hem if your uniform. Riki raises his brow, shoulders relaxing as he leans back on his chair.

The words that came out of his mouth felt like the easiest thing ever,

“You. I’m thinking of you.”

“The limit of this functions is that as X approaches to—”

God, you couldn’t focus. This was your limit. Not the whole entire maths thing the teacher was gnawing away at right now.

“But well, this function here can never approach X. It’s a little funny, right? Imagine it as a situation of wanting to reach something, but you couldn’t because there’s an obstacle of some sort. That right there is the asymptote, and—”

You’re the function. Riki’s the X.

“And this function here goes on and on and on. It’s infinite, it always comes back, per se.”

You’re definetely the function.

“Pst, hey—“

Someone pokes you from beside, pulling you out of your ridiculous trance. It was Rei. “You good?” She whispers, concern tainting her features.

After telling her everything that happened yesterday during your little study session with Riki, needless to say, Rei was beyond baffled. Not so at the fact that you poured your whole heart and soul in front of the man she’d willingly curse at, but more so at the fact that Riki, according to your description… Differed.

Of course, she was rather upset at you for breaking your walls down that easily in front of him, but nothing really ever happened except for some explaining from his side.

At least, that’s what you told her anyways.

The fact that he held your hand, your cheeks, pulled you a little bit closer to him— All you deemed insignificant for Rei’s knowledge. And, well, she could partly see why you’re so absent-minded right now, though, not really understanding the complete reason as to why.

“I’m fine.” You muster a small smile towards her, giving her a thumbs up.

“That’s it for the lesson today, make sure your notes are all arranged, including today’s lesson. I’ll be collecting them later.”

Oh shit. You looked down your notebook. You weren’t able to write anything at all, just scribbles of random stuff, mind too preoccupied with everything all at once. You internally groaned, grabbing Rei’s notebook out of the blue and copying her notes as fast as lightning.

“It’s a little bit early to be announcing this right now, but I thought it’ll benefit you all.”

You pay no attention, continuing to hammer down your notes.

“In honor of the school’s parting gift for the seniors, the graduating batch, staff, and teachers of Decelis Academy will have a little field trip the following week.”

With that, students beamed at the teacher’s sudden announcement. Your ears perked up at what you’d heard, looking at Rei with a short grin along your face. She smiled back, “Are you coming?”

“Of course I am!”

Despite it being a little too early for a field trip for your academy, you weren’t really one to complain. That meant having two trips all in the same year, which is not bad at all. It had been weird for your school to consider a trip so early, but well, early vacation it is, you suppose.

After being given more details about the trip at hand, and finally stuffing in Rei’s notes in your notebook, lunch finally rolled around once more. All mentions of your absent-mindedness having gone down the drain as the two of you talk about the trip,

“You think we’re going swimming or something?”

“Knowing the school? We’ll probably do some history museum or—“

“Boring!”

You laugh, sharing the same sentiment with Rei. After a few more words, you say goodbye to each other and headed towards your usual— the Radio club room. Last night, you’d call a small meeting before school had started with the rest of your members. Starting tomorrow, there will be a random rotation when it came to the announcements.

Today, however, was your task. You did as you would during your usual days, organizing, reading some particular letters from the Love Box, and playing random music recommendations from the students.

After an hour of doing so, you checked the time: around ten more minutes before lunch was over. Taking this as an opportunity to buy something from the cafeteria, you scurried to fix your things and headed out from the room. Maybe you’ll get some milk bread again today, or whatever the cafeteria had available.

However, upon reaching the cafeteria, you saw there was no more milk available which meant having to go and buy from the vending machine just outside. It was a bit of a hassle, but with the urge and determination to buy milk, you headed out.

The vending machine was near the gymnasium, and it had been no surprise to hear sneakers and footsteps once you entered. Usually, during lunch, students would rather find time to play than to actually eat. Thus, you ignored the ruckus and proceeded to buy yourself some milk.

Then you heard it— the loud thudding and laughter.

“That was my point!”

Someone shouts, laughing along the people he was playing with. A ball bounces, you pretended not to care, slotting some coins to get your milk. Then the noise stops for a complete second. You supposed they were taking a break, you shrugged and placed the straw inside your drink.

As the straw neared your lips, something or rather— someone, took a sip of your drink first. It was swift, and two second later, your drink was no longer within your grasp!

Frustrated, and ready to curse at whoever the hell took your drink, you twitched your head to the side to capture the culprit.

Sweat beading from his forehead, his hair wet and disheveled. His cheeks are a bit red from all the running, clothes soaked in perspiration. He smiled towards you, sipping your banana milk dry.

You didn’t move, staring at him with a — are you serious?— type of face. He throws the banana milk to the trash, patting your head and ruffling your hair. The slight height difference was visible, you smacked his hand away in annoyance. Or maybe you were flustered.

“And that, was mine.” You argued, sighing and taking out a few more coins to get some more milk.

Riki's teammates all yelled something about playing one more round, to which he shouts, "Coming!"

He then turns towards you, "Are you coming to the field trip?" He says, you think about it for a moment. "Why are you asking?"

"I just want to know." Riki says.

You shrug, "Yeah, I guess." Then he grins, ruffling your hair once more and turning back to his teammates. "I'll just play again, see you later at the library?"

You nod, half-expecting him to not come at all. "See you."

Nonetheless, you head to class with a huge, stupid, lovesick grin plastered on your face that you tried your hardest to bury away, yet to no avail.

And from the corner of your eyes, you see her — Kazu Naomi.

"Riki! I was looking for you everywhere!"

Then everything washed down upon you, the grin dissipating, as fast as day.

Over the span of one week, you learned a few of the following:

1. Nishimura Riki hates anything literature more than he does math.

2. Nishimura Riki, once he’s up to it, is actually a rather fast and efficient learner. (though the situation is seldom)

3. Nishimura Riki told you your voice sounded nice every time you announced and that, according to him— he loves it when your voice is put up the speaker.

4. Nishimura Riki apparently is the eye-candy for many girls and guys alike. (not that it was anything new.)

5. The previous statement connects with the fourth— with one of those people being none other than Kazu Naomi.

6. Nishimura Riki and Kazu Naomi are close.

Regardless of the fact that all of these learnings centered around Riki, perhaps hinting you are a bit too observant when it came to him, out of all these, nothing pisses you off more than the last stament mentioned.

Well, it didn’t really matter whether or not hundreds of girls flocked over to his side, because he always did give off the plain, uninterested, boring response. It did however matter though when the person who flocked around is Kazu Naomi.

You see it.

You see the way she galloped around, attempting to join in conversations between Riki and his friend and the way she’d delicately. Delicately laugh and giggle like a sealion in front of him. And Riki would laugh, geniunely laugh, and put inputs of his own with keen interest.

Of course, you only ever saw during lunch. But if that’s what happens during lunch, then what more could happen inside the classroom? A classroom which, they sit next to each other.

Makes stuff ten times more troubling.

“Why are you so spaced out, chum? Help me with this question,” Riki abruptly says. You’ve earned the title of chum now, rooting from your words a few days prior— ‘quit acting chummy with me.’

You shake your head, “What was it again?”

Riki chuckles, pointing his pencil towards a problem. He was still sitting as lazily as ever, slouching and putting his arm on the table. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s this. I don’t get this.” You glance at the problem, before solving it on your own and—

Does Kazu Naomi still like her?

Or even worse, what if he likes her? He laughs without much of a care in the world whenever—

“Chum, what are you bringing for the trip tomorrow?”

“Hm? Oh um probably just some essentials. I won’t be bringing much, why?”

“I think you’re carrying the whole weight on your shoulder.”

“What?”

“I dunno,” Riki shrugs, swiftly taking your shoulders upon his palms and massaging it. “You look like you’re thinking of a lot right now.”

Tense at first, it doesn’t take you long to ease up into his palms. Riki had heavy hands, he massaged your shoulders with ease. “I’m not, it’s just, you know…”

You sigh, feeling to embarrassed to even think about such stuff.

“Mmm?” He tilts his head. “Know what?”

“It’s nothing.” You muster a small smile. “Really?” He was not having it.

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of me chum, you don’t have to, y’know.”

Riki offers you a smug grin. You scoff, slapping his hand away. “I’m right here in front of you. All yours, too.”

“As if. You’re getting too ahead of yourself.” You slap him in the arm, Riki dodges with ease. “You’re cute.”

“What?”

“I said you’re cute.” Riki repeats. This is what you absolutely hated about him. His absolute lack of being dishonest, his effortless ability of being straightforward, and deeming it as a harmless joke afterwards. Although it was a light joke, it never really is for your beating heart.

It didn’t help that his remarks of honesty is no light feat, either. Who even says stuff like that randomly?

Over the past few days you’ve been tutoring him in the library, you find that his words are either the most dumbest thing, or the most unbelievable thing to leave his mouth. This, being being the latter.

“If you’re trying to smooth talk your way out of physics, nice try.” You counter quickly, rolling your eyes.

“It was worth a shot.”

He shrugs, laughing along your seemingly disgusted face.

Unbeknownst to you, though is that Riki had actually meant every word.

You are cute.

If there is one thing you swore on earth during your freshman year, and ultimately the year after— was to never ever go back or to recall fleeting moments of you and Riki ever again.

Sure, it had been hard to ignore. It was everywhere, traces of where Riki had left off. Your old notebook, the school itself, your phone— most especially your phone.

You hadn’t much of the guts to recall particular moments in life where all you did together with him was chat until the sun rose, at ridiculous topics memes you’d come across. It was a fleeting moment altogether, more than enough to make butterflies float and panic in your stomach.

But a few months after, it was more than enough to make your stomach churn in pain.

So, ultimately, when you lost all contact with Riki, flooding his email and your chat with him had been your only options. Your conversation with him had been filled with messages upon message, some making you look outright desperate in hopes of reaching him and contacting him.

Halfway through your junior year, you stopped sending anything at all entirely. After being given an ultimatum from your best friend, and an abundance of scolding from your parents— chasing after a person who vanished into thin air really was not worth the time.

So you stopped, and you swore to never go back to it again.

Packing your things inside your bag as you played music, you felt your phone ping from your bed. You grabbed your phone, half expecting the notification to be from Rei, only to see the familiar name that pinged upon.

Riki.

His name was still the same as you’d left it, being too shy and embarrassed to change it into something more intimate once your relationship had gotten a tad bit deeper before.

You stare at his name for a minute, contemplating.

You opened the message anyways, excusing the chat for some sort of emergency.

Riki: hey

You: ??

Riki: what else are you bringing lol I feel like I underpacked

You: Why do you keep asking me this, I told you like a million times already

Riki: really? sorry, just wanted a reason to chat you then i guess

Your hear your heart thump against your chest. But your eyes scroll a little upwards, towards the thousand of missed calls and messages you’d left to him a few months prior. They all looked pitiful to even look at.

At this point, you should be mad at Riki for leaving them unopened. Texting you like nothing happened, like you weren’t practically begging to hear from him back before. It should be infuriating, but instead, it only leaves a bitter taste down your throat.

You hated yourself for being this understanding, for caring too much— for being too much.

You: Go to sleep.

Riki: wowwww i’m rather hurt! :(( be a little nicer pls

You: Stop teasing me, it’s annoying

Riki: and you like it, chum

You: I do not.

Riki: you do

You: No.

Riki: yes, i can see u blush whenever i get close to you its adorable

You: Stop being annoying.

Riki: annoying is my middle name

You: what

Riki: lol jus kidding

Riki sends you a meme of a cat that oddly looks like him, jumping around with a silly goofy cafe. His favorite little meme. Odd, it sends a little smile down your face, momentarily forgetting anything else. For once, you let him chat and annoy you to his heart’s content, hoping, wishing, and seeing the old memories pile behind the new ones.

After a night filled with countless memes and gifs with Nishimura Riki, the day of the trip finally came to roll around. Arriving to school early before the sun showed up, and finding it you are just as excited as others are.

Well, that was a couple minutes before.

But now, you’re not so sure anymore as you boarded your bus with Rei.

It wasn’t really such a big deal, given the fact that him and Naomi were classmates, and the bus occupied two sections and you were paired with a section you could care less about.

And, Riki, well… Their section was in a separate bus. It shouldn’t matter, it really didn’t. Not until, from across, you saw their bus. Then, you see him. You see her, too.

Kazu Naomi, sitting down the window seat with Riki beside him.

All color, excitement, and joy faded within your features. Suddenly, all you wanted to do was go home and wrap yourself with your blanket and talk to absolutely no one.

You had the free will to choose your seatmate, Rei was beside you scrolling through her phone. She sensed your dejectedness, and immediately asked whats wrong.

“I don’t know…”

You grumble, fumbling with your colored wristband. But Rei knows full well. Rei knows everything despite you not uttering a word. “This is about Riki again?” You nod, not even feigning innocence anymore.

She sighs, “it’s just for a few gut-wrenching hours, if that makes it any better.”

“You saw?”

“How couldn’t I? She had that stupid little creepy grin on her face,” Rei looked at you, pretending she was shivering. You laughed, “It’s impossible not to notice.”

“Right? And now people will notice, too.”

You groan dramatically, Rei laughs as she pats your back. “I can give him a beating later if you want me to, oh, and her too.”

“Please do the honor.”

She rolls her eyes, not prying into your antics any further.

Your phone pings, you pick it up.

Riki: you alright?

You stare at the text message of the boy, opting to respond:

You: I’m fine.

Then you look outside, towards his bus. Riki coincidentally does the same.

But you left it at that, a simple stolen glance, choosing not to say anything more.

The whole ride on the way to some Mt.Takao (why the school chose some random ass mountain to have the trip on, you could not understand), albeit having your entire existence soaked in worried, you tried your best to push the thoughts aside.

Upon arriving at the top of the mountain, topics of discussion of the activities were all you heard from the people around. Their chatters, even as you unboarded from the bus remained.

Something like team building activities the student council had planned out.

Upon placing some of your stuff in your assigned cabins, it didn’t take long before all the students were gathered once more around the area for some activities. It had been cold and chilly, enough for you to wrap some layers around your body, not too thick, yet not too thin.

Students gathered at the center of the cabins, you walked alongside Rei who was perhaps saying something about her newfound hobby a few days prior.

The student council led by their president— Yang Jungwon, had been in charge of the preparations for the activities and game. Teachers are left for their own entertainment around the mountain, though occasionally, some would check around and make sure all the students are safe.

You knew some of the members of the student council. Aside from the aforementioned president, their vice president, Park Sunghoon. A rather distant man, and someone who often kept to himself. You got to talk to him before after being assigned by the same teacher with a specific task.

Their secretary— Kazu Naomi. Enough information has been said about her. Needless to say, she’s not one to be painting a pleasant taste upon your tastebuds.

Their treasurer— Park Jongseong. A very particular but friendly man. He talked and greeted, and did not really keep much to his shell. You got to talk to him before, during a previous meeting of all the vice presidents the clubs in your school who are next in line for the president position.

Speaking of presidents, Yang Jungwon is a man you could rather say you are close to. As not only is he the president of the student council, he is also a part of the journalism club, one which your club assisted in broadcasting. Meetings and gatherings often led the two of you to communicate and eventually, a budding friendship had grown between.

“Everyone, gather round!” Yang Jungwon spoke, his members beside him as he calls the attention of the students. The two of you make eye contact, you give him a small smile, and he offers one back. You saw him often around school, but you don’t really have much of a real reason to talk to him that much yet given there was no collaborative works between the two of you.

“I hope the presidents of each class has done a solid headcount,” Junwon confirms with the rest of the presidents, proceeding once he got the affirmation.

“We got a couple of activities planned for the day before we all take time to rest.” He announces, “Your wristbands given to you are the assigned groups you’ll be working with for today’s activity. You can proceed to team up with them, and each group will be given an assigned facilitator from the student council.”

Your wristband was blue, Rei’s was yellow.

You parted from your best friend, looking around for possible teammates as the students clamoured and shouted, in search of theirs too. Eventually, you spot a group of people in blue wristbands gathering up, you hurried to join up with them.

With a gentle smile, you come and greet them politely. “Hi.”

They say hello back, you settle in a small chatter with your teammates as you wait for the others. After a few minutes, soon enough, your group had finally been complete. You scanned around, looking for Rei… And maybe Riki as well.

“Y/N, I’m here! Goodluck!” Rei shouts from your peripheral vision, you wish her goodluck. Red team… Blue… Green… Black—

Oh.

Your throat felt dry immediately. As if the occurrence at the bus hadn’t been enough, Riki really just had to be at the team where the facilitator is Naomi.

It isn’t a big deal, it really isn’t.

But it had been a sentence that ultimately, had no effect upon your already jealousy filled heart. And much like the gloomy weather that sounded of rain, the same feeling remained.

You make eye contact with Riki, he smiles, holding his thumbs up— asking with his eyes if you are okay. You are about to respond when, “Y/N! You’re in this team?”

You turn around to look at the person, it was Yang Jungwon. With a friendly smile, you nod. “I am! Are you the facilitator?”

Jungwon nods, making small talk that rendered you unable to respond to Riki’s little sign if concern. And eventually, you’d forgotten all about it.

The first team building was simple. Upon receiving enough information from the student council, you found that they had went here a day prior in order to prepare for the activities. The task was straightforward: complete each checkpoint assigned as a team, with the said checkpoint containing a map leading you to your final goal.

Albeit not having the most extroverted personality, you find yourself getting along with your teammates just fine. And, after a few more chatters, a horn finally blew indicating the task had begun.

It was a bit of a chaos, students roaming and shouting around in excitement as you got lost in the depths of their conversation.

It didn’t bother you much, really. Your teammates are a nice bunch, making small talk and jokes. It seemed all of you shared one thing in particular— in no specific mood of being competitive and just enjoying the entire trip. But that hadn’t meant you wouldn’t complete the task, given that Jungwon was your facilitator and he was encouraging everyone like crazy.

“Jungwon are you sure you don’t want to tell us where the checkpoint is?” You ask him, breatheless sighs came upon your lips as you took another step. God, this mountain was hefty.

Jungwon laughs, shaking his head. “No, then that would be no fun, would it?”

A teammate of yours, Kim Sunoo, joins in the conversation. “You’re always no fun! Come on tell us so our team can win.”

It doesn’t take you long before your group began persuading Jungwon into divulging some hints on the whereabouts, but to no avail. He was as sturdy as a rock.

You sigh, taking another step towards the soil, completely unaware of your feet getting stuck on some thorned plant. One foot in, the other falls backward and trips on the soft, mushy soil immediately. Suddenly, you feel a jolting pain pulsing on your ankle and you could not move.

Jungwon was the first to rush to your side, “Hey! Are you alright—”

“Ow.” You groaned.

Your teammates gathered round upon hearing the sudden fall, concerns written among their faces as they fumble and ask if you’re okay. Jungwon holds them back a bit, “Guys, she might need a bit of space right now. Can you stand?” You attempt to, raising your right foot but ultimately failing to do so with the left as the same pain comes crashing through. “Fuck.”

Luckily, Jungwon immediately catches your slightly falling figure within his arms, settling you down a large boulder instead. “Easy there, did you feel something break?” He asks with concern, you shake your head.

“I don’t think so…” The blood that trickled down your calf was evident enough. “I got my pants wrapped around the thorn, it hurts.”

You try not to look like a wuss but the pain that wraps around your calf was immense. It was taking all your power not to cry in front of these people, let alone talk. Jungwon pauses for a minute, contemplating. Then he spoke,

“We’re not that far off from the first checkpoint, you see that light over there—” He points towards a visible light not too far off, “That’s the first checkpoint, you guys continue to go North and we’ll follow after.”

Looks of hesitancy and questioning bubbled around. Sunoo spoke, “We can’t just leave you here, it’s hard to split up in such a place.”

But them staying here would absolutely be useless. You wouldn’t want to jeopardize the team’s chance behind. “I’m okay, we can’t all stay here. You guys go and get our first checkpoint and we’ll meet up soon after.”

“But—”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry, it’s just a small wound, go.” You cover up the bloddong with your right hand, Jungwon comes to your aid, kneeling down and inspecting the wound.

“Sunoo, you go lead the team up, then come back here after.”

Sunoo, looks around, then eventually nods. “Let’s go.”

He leads the team around, the rest of them following him in search of the first checkpoint. Meanwhile, you finally wince and groan meekly in pain. “Can you lift your pants up?”

You nod, lifting part of your calf and showing him the bloodied part. The thorn that you came across upon, was pointed and tall, making it easy to skim through the insides easily. Jungwon nears the wound, touching it ever so slightly. You wince, “That hurts.”

“Sorry,” He says without looking up, grabbing something from his pocket. “I didn’t think an accident would happen here, I forgot my first aid down the cabins…” He mumbles, patting your wound with his handkerchief very delicately.

You protest, “Don’t use your handkerchief.”

He looks at you, “Why?”

“It’ll get dirty and bloodied, I don’t want that.” You mumble, Jungwon merely smiles, “It’s fine.”

“But—”

“I have plenty more, besides, we need to somehow clean up the bleeding.”

Nodding, you argue no further and let him clean up the wound. It wasn’t such a big mark, but it was enough to have Jungwon off the edge and tainted with worry. “You seriously have to be more careful…”

He says, taking something from his pocket once more. A small ointment for wounds. “I thought you didn’t carry your first aid kit?”

“I got a little restless and brought a little something from the first aid kit.”

You chuckle. Always so meticulous and prepared. “I see…” Jungwon folded a piece of his handkerchief, using the other side to dab some of the ointment on.

You suddelt felt something cold fall atop your head, continuous droplets of water cascading down. You reached your hand out— it was raining. What perfect timing. The light droplets soon began to turn into a heavy onset of rain. Jungwon looked up, “I also totally felt it would rain today but I completely disregarded bringing an umbrella.”

He sighs, you stand up slightly, thanking him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

With a nod, “It’ll heal itself.” You smile towards him. The rain wasn’t letting up anytime soon, soaking your bodies with water as it grew heavier each passing second. The fog and the bluriness suddenly came into light, and the spark that Jungwon once pointed out towards to be the checkpoint, was gone.

“Fuck.” He curses, “I didn’t think the rain would be this heavy.”

“We need to get under a roof or something first.” You hurriedly say, adrenaline rushing in as you took his hand and led him somewhere, “What about the others? They might be looking for us.”

“They have to manage, we might slip or something in this steep place if we don’t get ourselves under something.”

Jungwon eventually agrees, allowing you to take control of his hand and leading him somewhere. Albeit having the placed familiarized with at the back of his mind, he chose not to spoke, chose not to tell you that the others are probably not looking for the two of you and opting to find shelter instead.

He stays quiet and just lets you.

Soon enough, you see a small pile of boulders and rocks not too far off, forming a rather gigantic cave with nothing inside. Deeming it as safe, you entered and checked the surroundings. “Are there like, bears here or something?”

Jungwon laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, at least not that I know of.”

He shakes his hair around like a puppy drying itself, the water hitting your face as you chuckle and smack him, “Careful!”

He laughs along, raking a hand through his hair and sighing. The two of you were soaked beyond belief, your clothes sticking upon your bodies like candy. And well, from your peripheral vision, Jungwon’s shirt clung to his particularly molded abs.

You tried not to take a peek, you really did. You always knew Jungwon was a rather active person, but you never knew he was this active.

“What?”

“Oh? Um—” Your eyes stray upwards, only to find him tilting his head at you innocently. “It’s… Nothing.”

You had to stop thinking like a complete pervert.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? Your leg…”

“It hurts but hey, it happens.” You smile at him gently, squeezing the bottom of your shirt to drain some of the water out. Jungwon removes his flannel, putting it down and patting it, “You can sit down if you want.”

You thank him, sitting down and sharing a flannel with Jungwon as you patiently waited for the rain to let up. It had been a comfortable silence, one that was neither heavy nor awkward as the only ruckus the two of you heard was from the pattering rain outside.

Gently heaving a sigh, you hug your knees close to your chest, feeling apologetic. “I’m sorry, Jungwon.”

“Why’re you saying sorry again?”

“Our team got disrupted because of me and now got stuck in this place together because—”

“Hey, don’t say that.”

But you continue, “Because I was careless as hell and it’s—”

“Y/N.” Jungwon says sternly, gaze locking onto yours. His eyes held sincerety and firmness, “Stop saying that, accidents are bound to happen and it’s not a big deal.”

His words doesn’t let you up. A wave of comfort washed over you as pondered over what he said. It hasn’t sinked onto you yet, the subtle glances and hint he shared and offered.

“Thank you then.” You smile at him, Jungwon smiles back.

You hadn’t noticed an hour had passed, aimlessly chatting with him on topics that regarded school and anything casual, really. Jungwon is a nice guy, flowing along a conversation with him and sharing a good laugh wasn’t difficult. He understood too, listening earnestly at your little stories and concerns.

The rain had finally let up, you offer Jungwon to leave the cave and go find the others to which he agrees. He gets his flannel back, and the two of you leave the cave as the the sun rose back in its full glory.

You were laughing about something he said when— “Look, it’s a rainbow.”

You turn to look at the sky. Its colorful hues paunting a beautiful curve, the bright colors of a rainbow coming about. Smiling gently, you walked alongside Jungwon as you looked out the rainbow. “I swear, I thought your team wasn’t gonna make it to the next round.”

Pertaining to one of the sports club matches in taekwondo, you turn to look at Jungwon. It was a few months prior, with their competition being held at your academy and seeing the sparring in full play. Jungwon was one of the players, and that was the first time you ever saw him kick and discover a side out of student council.

Jungwon chuckles, a sheepish grin on his face. “I had like a huge bruise on my cheek after that spar, though. The opponent violated some rules.”

You nod, “I saw that too, good thing you didn’t let him get the best of you.”

Jungwon leads you through a forest of trees, after a few minutes of walking, you finally reached the cabin your school settled upon. The different colored teams were there, some had been soaked just as the two of you were, some held little flags, indicating they reached a particular checkpoint before turning back because of the rain.

Your appearance with Jungwon was no shocking thing, but you feel a presence inching closer towards you as you neared the rest of you group.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You turn to look at the voice, Riki was right in front of you, with eyes you’ve never seen him in before. Was he… concerned?

“What happened to you? Are you okay?”

His gaze fell upon your legs, the calf that had been riddled with ointment and once had blood dripping down. “Chum, let’s take you to the clinic, your wound—”

He kneels, reachinng towards your injury. But you stop him, “Riki, I’m fine, it’s no big wound, just a little scratch.”

“Just a little scratch? You weren’t answering your phone, did something happen?”

You remembered leaving your phone at the cabin, opting not to bring it with you as you might lose it. “I didn’t bring my phone with me…”

“Oh.”

Riki nods, standing up. Once more, you were reminded of just how much his figure towered upon you, and it made you feel a little small. Jungwon remained by your side, casually conversing with some of your group and ensuring the students. The student council worked on crowd control, deciding soon enough to halt the activity first and get the students to freshen up so no such accidents will occur.

Side by side, you walk with Riki on the way to the cabin in silence.

“Y/N!” Jungwon calls from behind you, “I can’t go back with you, is it okay if—”

“It’s okay Jungwon! Thank you for helping me this much, I’ll get myself cleaned up.”

He smiles, nodding along and proceeding to his own things to tend to. Meanwhile, Riki listened to your conversation, his interest piqued. ”Jungwon helped you?”

You nod, grinning. This doesn’t escape him, “We got stuck in some cave during the rain, if it wasn’t for him, I would’ve been badly hurt by now.”

Riki just hums, voice deep and low. The sun was finally beginning to set by now, and the students are heading towards their perspective cabins to freshen up. Thankfully and oddly enough, you shared a cabin with Riki.

“Are you alright now?”

He looks at you, you only nod.

“That’s good, there’s no need for concern then. Looks like already had you under his care.”

You sensed a bit of tension beneath his gaze, the way he let it fall to your sides, to your bruised ankle, and eventually to your face. Riki spoke bitterly, “I’m going.”

Leaving you lost and dumbfounded, Riki leaves and walks on over to his room with no so much as another word. It fazes you, disappointment panging your heart as his broad back faced your eyes.

What was wrong with him?

For the rest of the budding night, you tended to your wounds more carefully with the help of very worried Rei who scolded you on safety and watching your own step. The breeze was already chilly, you had freshened up for the remaining time, so had Rei after the two of you chatted aimlessly. Riki pierced the back of your mind, like a little monster encaged and desperate to be unleashed. He was acting like nothing, like thin air. Concern was evident in his tone, then suddenly it all dissipates and he suddenly doesn’t care?

Eventually, it was time to gather outside for a little bonfire and meal prepared by some of the staffs and teachers. With layers of clothing wrapped around your body, you headed out with Rei.

By the time the two of you are out, Jungwon was already making rounds of each class with the assistance of the teachers to make sure of the headcount of each class. For the night was still early, only announcements were made, the bonfire would begin around midnight when the sky’s hues are completely washed out.

You didn’t seem to take hold of Riki’s eyes though, eventually landing on Jungwon and him giving you a thumbs up. You put your thumbs up too, initiating a little smile.

For the rest of the evening, albeit trying, attempting, to capture Riki’s eyes with yours, nothing seemed to work. He was ignoring you, that much was obvious. The reason why, too. But you know you couldn’t jump to conclusions, knowing full well you had nothing well going on with Riki, much less— Jungwon.

It was a risk of an assumption you weren’t willing to take just yet. It is, of course, just an assumption after all.

10PM hits, and all students were once more called to start the bonfire. It had already been set, with logs circled around the piles of woods to be set on fire. You sat down on one of them, watching as a teacher lights the wood and other materials on fire. A small explosion, one that causes a few of your peers to jitter ever so slightly, but you just stare at the fire, absent-minded.

It didn’t blind your vision when its orange, yellow, and red colors are a lot more closer to your eyes. You just gaped at it like some sort of fish.

“What are you thinking of again?”

Rei asks, picking something from her bag; A little smores kit she’d packed for the two of you. You sighed, “Have you noticed? Riki’s been ignoring me.”

“He has,” Rei picks a stick up, stabbing a marshmallow. “I thought you were fine just a moment ago?”

Shrugging, you took a stick and made one yourself. “Yeah and all of a sudden he just started… Ignoring me.”

Rei picks up and pieces the situation together, from earlier this morning to the present. Then she said, “Oh my gosh.”

“What?”

Rei covers her mouth. shock beyond belief. “The two of you are so stupid.”

You feigned offence, “Okay, now you’re just being rude.”

“No, I mean did you ever notice?”

Rei waits for your statement. Even if you know, you share none and kept your mouth shut. “I know you know, so go talk to hin right now.” Rei knows, as usual.

The beating of your heart goes a little louder at her statement as you consider it, as you consider him.

And when Rei pokes her smores near the campfire as students do the same, she knows you’re no longer beside her in search for the man.

It doesn’t take a genius to wonder where Riki was. He wasn’t inside the cabin, neither was he out enjoying the camp fire. Which meant he probably roamed around a little somewhere, though not too far.

The light on some parts of the mountain was dim, but enough to provide you with sight as you willingly searched for him, a marshmallow and a stick still intact in your hand. What would you begin to even tell Riki? To stop being such an idiot and notice you again? To tell him that, no, whatever he was thinking of was wrong and you wouldn’t dare to think of him that way.

To tell him you absolutely adore the smitten looks on his face whenever—

Crack.

It happened all at once, something exploding and something like an explosion of one’s emotion—

“I like you, Riki.”

Then it showed up, the fireworks, obnioxiously coming into place like you were in some sort of cinematic film.

“I know we haven’t been on such good terms before, but we can continue where we left off and—”

And— nothing at all. Because the next moment, you were no longer eavesdropping. You were stumbling, choking back your tears as you stood on heavy ground with a heavy heart. Your footsteps felt like tumbling and stepping on tons of weight as it plodded through the thick grass and soil. You didn’t care that they’d possibly heard you.

There was nothing mistaking it. That was definitely Kazu Naomi. It was definitely her, Naomi’s soft, gentle, heart in her sleeve— confessing to Nishimura Riki. Nothing else mattered anymore, you weren’t going around to stick to whatever it is he had to say anymore. What else was there to see?

At the ripe age of fifteen, everyone deemed it to be the perfect little time to be loved and to love.

Blossoming through the ripe seasons of spring when everything began anew, for some odd reason, you never find yourself aching for that same desire at the age of fifteen.

Until you met him, of course.

It was just a short-lived moment, one that could pass as forever.

The gym was noisy with the dribbles of heavy ball and the scraping of the shoes. You were not inside, rather, outside of the gym chatting away with Rei and striding alone.

And just like any other typical highschool romance, his ball had to come in play.

Nearly hitting you, Rei once turned around to scream go to hell to whoever threw it. Out came Nishimura Riki, a fellow schoolmate. He was the same level, same grade, and year as you.

His apology barely scraped as a whisper, a short, “Sorry.” Before heading back in with the ball in his hand.

Such a petty though, he was cute.

Though during the course of a strange destined interactions, you find him to be quite the opposite. He wasn’t avoiding saying sorry, simply just thinking the barely audible sorry would be enough. That was his trait, his feature which made him had this mysterious aura around him.

Nishimura Riki was no stranger to attention. He always did well in his sports, had the face to pass as a model, and the unique, mischevious vibe around him which made people adore and become curious of his nature. He shared what was necessary, choosing to respond with, “Cool, mmhm, yeah, s’good.” every single time, in situations where he had to agree.

It bundled all together, the bitterness for refusing to be in love at such a young age, and budding into something of a hopeless romantic.

And really, that was where it all began.

You were thinking now, though, that this right here might be the moment where everything actually ends. It felt way worse than when Riki left without a word and explanation, it felt way worse because the situation in the end made you realise that every twist and turn would progress to absolutey nowhere because Nishimura Riki is already here.

Right now, though, the two of you are blatantly ignoring each other.

It all started all the way home upon witnessing their scene, from then on, everything dismaying thing soon followed. You ignored him, he ignored you. As petty as it sounds, that was how the situation came to be. Your tutor sessions? Bullshit. He doesn’t come anymore, you don’t ask about it, either.

Everything was back to where it used to be, where Riki used to be out of the picture.

One moment, as you were doing your daily tasks in your club room and reading some love letters from the box, a certain bright red envelope piqued your interest. It had that certain allure and brightness that made it stand out amongst other letters, it was scented too.

Curious, you open the envelope and read it.

“A situational problem goes like this—”

What an interesting way to begin a love letter.

“Being interested in someone, but you have not yet pursued the idea of a serious relationship. Then all of a sudden, everything bursts and you go jealous over another and ignore them becauss of your petty emotions. What do you do?”

That was the end of the letter. No confession, no emotions pouring out. Just… A problem waiting to be solved.

“Well, this was a pretty short letter,” You say into the speaker as you analyze the content, “Hmm. Let’s say you were ignoring that person because of jealousy, does a person know you are jealous in the first place?”

You continue, “The first thing I thought of is to immediately make sure there is no misunderstanding involved in any sort of situation possible. So, you can ask them if there’s a problem, and if there is, you explain as best as you can. Jealousy is inevitable and ensuring that maybe your future partner does not overthink, then you explain regardless of your status in the relationship. We don’t want to break the trust now, do we?”

You ended the problem with a bit more solutions, stating some unlabeled personal problems of your own. And after reading a few more letters, you finally got ready to pack up and leave for class.

“Would you get mad at me if I said I was jealous?”

Fucking— Wha—

“Oh my gosh! You scared me!”

It hadn’t occur to you that somehow, Riki sneaked his way inside the room. He was standing in plain sight, in front of you. Uniform unbuttoned, hair disheveled and wet as if he’d just gotten out of a game. His breath shook a bit, but his presence toward you remained unnerved.

He repeats his question, “Would you get mad at me if I said I was jealous?”

“Riki what’s this all about, I need to go to class—hey!” You attempt to bypass him, but he holds your wrist before you had the chance to do so, his figure leaning downward and you visibly panicked.

He was eye to eye now, holding both your wrists with one hand as he waited for your answer. God, the distance was insufferable, it wasn’t too close but it was close enough to have his breath fanning over your face. Not to mention, his glossed eyes which awaited for an answer.

“Let go of me, I need to get to class.” You protest.

“So? We’ll both be late together.”

You gasped and attempted to smack him with your constrained wrist, his laughter bubbling and reaching your ears like melody. “You’re not answering my question.”

“Ah…”

You think about it for a moment, piecing the puzzle piece by piece. Was he the one who wrote the letter?

“Are you… jealous though?”

“I am. I really am.”

What?

“Was that your letter?”

Riki deadpans, then laughs, shaking his head. “My letter? No, I wouldn’t do something like that it’s—”

He sighs, “It’s stupid. Yes it was mine.”

“Huh?!”

Slowly, Riki comes closer. Closer, closer, closer, until his head rests atop your shoulders and his nose nuzzled upon your neck. The action made shivers run down your spine, a gesture that was too close for comfort and had your fingers hesitating and your body on edge.

Riki gently places your hands down, taking one in each of his hand and caressing it gently as the sweet scent of your neck comes rushing down upon him.

“God, you drive me crazy, you know that?”

“How…”

“I haven’t stopped liking you since I disappeared, I just couldn’t forget you and—”

He sighs, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Riki what do you mean…?”

“I get jealous so easily it’s driving me insane.”

Something about his words knocked something within you, his fingers deattached from your wrist down to your waist where he hesitantly wrapped his arms around, only to pull back. “It’s okay.”

You reassure him, he places his grip back on your waist, yet leaving a safe distance. “Do you like Jungwon?”

What?!

“What do you mean? What does Jungwon have to do with this…”

“Do you like him?”

You answer immediately, “Romantically? No. He’s Just a friend, Riki.”

You feel Riki’s constrained breath sigh ever so carefully, as if that weight was upon his shoulders for a little while now, as if he’d been thinking of asking that for years, just waiting for the perfecr opportunity.

“Then it’s okay if I’m doing this, right?”

Riki tightens his group around your waist, pulling you dangerously closer. Riki’s scent engulfed your nose, he was all you felt, all you smelled.

“That I’m holding you like this…”

His fingers then came upon your cheeks, caressing it, “Touching you like this…”

He pulls his head back, looking into your eyes with a glossed gaze, “Looking at you like this…”

“Keeping you close like this?”

He rubs the small of your back with his thumb, the way he moves make everything so electric. You know it was second nature to him to speak this way, to act this way. It wasn’t anything new, but it still sent shivers down your spine.

“I don’t know Riki… What are you doing..?”

Riki finally lets go, you fought the urge to frown at the loss of his touch. He stuffs his hands into his pants pockets, “That time at the trip, I saw the way Jungwon looks at you, the way he cares for you, chum.”

His nickname for you was finally back. You internally squealed, you might have pounced upon him if not for your self control. “And it’s stupid but it made me terribly upset.”

You half expected this much, but to hear him actually say it outloud was different. Nishimura Riki was no vocal man, and if this was all it took to get him to act, honestly, it made you a little bit pleased.

Scratch that, it made you very pleased.

“It did?”

Riki nods, “It really did.”

And when his fingers held loose from his pockets, shifting from his head to your cheeks, Riki squeezed your cheeks the the point where it hurt and you had to slap his hand away to stop.

“I guess I’ll see you later at the library again?”

Three months since school started, and no one else has been the apple of your eye.

It was an endless little routine that garnered— You tutored Riki at the library every other day now, given that he had to prioritize his game at basketball and training too.

Something changed between the two of you, though.

It was subtle, unnoticeable by those who rarely observed. Yet people saw it, the way Riki pats your head whenever you pass by him in the hallway, the way he would so very obviously sneak out during lunch time to have shared moments with you at the radio club room whenever you were there, the way he would call you chum in front of a large crowd.

It was going slow, maybe too slow for the likes of others. But Riki never strayed too far in terms of actions, keeping his boundaries present and built up. Still thinking of you, always thinking of you. In words though, his flirting was way too evident.

And when it came to messaging? You couldn’t let go of your phone. Besides class, whenever you had the time, the two of you would message one another and send random memes and bring up random topics to talk about. He called once, when he needed help with a problem and that ended up in a call that lasted for hours. Though there was no more incident following that.

This, perhaps however may be one of the moments where the unlabeled something between the two of you where it will be obvious.

You think, as you sit atop your bed and message the person who’s been occupying your mind:

Riki: chum what time are you coming to my game?

You: I’m all ready, maybe once the game starts? So it’s not too noticeable.

Riki: silly its about to start in a few minutes

You jumped from your bed, quickly putting on your shoes.

Riki: and also, melon or pineapple?

You: What’s this about? Definitely melon.

Riki’s icon pops up at your screen, a picture of him when he was a cute little child. Surprised, you click to answer his call.

“Yes?”

You hear shuffling, Riki’s screen was black, then it shifted and his face was now showing. He was wearing his jersey, the muscles of his arms peeked just a little as he held the phone up to his face. “Hi Chum.”

“Hey, don’t you have a game in a few? I’m on the way out now.” You held your phone to your face as well as you exit your house. “I just missed you, is all.”

His words made you shift your phone from your face to some random pavement. Riki chuckles, “Where are you chum? I’m just kidding.”

“You have to stop saying jokes like that…” You mumble as you refocus the phone back to your face, “Why? Cause it gets you, no?”

“Riki! Stop it!” You want to slap him so bad right now.

“Okay, okay I’ll stop!” Riki snorts, someone shouting could be heard from behind him, Riki responds before turning back to you, “I’m just making sure you’re coming to my game pretty girl.”

Pretty girl, chum— god, you’ll explode if he calls you that one more time. When Riki starts using something, he never lets go of it. Which in this case, was his too strong of a nickname for you.

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s your game, of course I would.”

You see him pause for a moment before he grins, “I’ll see you here then, yeah?”

You nod, “I’ll see you.”

“I have to go chum! I’ll wait for you here.”

You bid goodbye to him. Riki thought he pressed the end call, putting his phone down on his bag. Confused, you peek a little closer at the screen only to hear someone speak from the other end.

“Who was that?”

“Just my pretty girl, she’s coming to my game.”

Oh and fuck, you never ended the call so quickly in your life.

“Y/N! Wow I never imagined to see you at a basketball game.”

It was pretty noisy, the large bustling and hustling of the crowd. The game had already started, you were a little late. Rei isn’t one to be interested in such crowds, but for the sake of you, she went and tagged along.

Someone’s voice chimed from behind, it was Jungwon, along with Sunoo, Sunghoon, Naomi, and Jongseong. You smiled sheepishly, greeting them. “It’s my first time actually!”

“You’ve never watched a match of Decelis Academy basketball team before?” Sunoo asks, plopping a popcorn down his mouth as all of you settle on some bleachers not too far away. “No, it’s not really much of an interest of mine.”

Jongseong spoke, “What made you want to watch it then?”

“Oh, it’s—” You hesitated to say it outloud. Riki? Should you tell them it was Riki?

“Chum, I’m glad you made it.”

All of you turn to look around the owner of his voice, it was Nishimura Riki. Was it even possible to say that he looked more delicious up close? Someone of his nature, looking all sweaty from all the warm ups, his cheeks flushed a bit of red, his jersey labeled number ten. And gosh, his biceps— his biceps!

“Riki!” Naomi beams, something within you tingles in alert. They all greet him, Sunghoon, Jungwon, Sunoo, and Jay bumping their bodies with Riki as a friendly bro thing.

The whole entire thing with Naomi confessing months before, you only treated as some sort of fever dream for the sake of your sanity. It happened, but you pretended it hadn’t. You’ve not been feeling much of her for the past two months around Riki, it was better that way.

Every moment she does though, it’s like your system is on high alert.

Riki gives a little acknowledgment to Rei and Naomi, but his focus and eyes remained at you as he neared with an exciting grin. “Hi.” He says once he was face to face and once again, towering over you.

“Hi, I thought you were starting already?” Came your breathless response,

“I just wanted you to come a little faster.” Riki grins at his cheekiness. “Here,” He was already holding something as he got to the bleachers, he hands it to you. It was two pieces of melon bread, along with some milk you always got at the vending machine and a small, singular rose that was crocheted and wrapped ever so beautifully.

You beamed, feeling flustered all of a suden at the eyes of your friends which kept its attention on you and Riki. You were speechless, simply taking the items from his hands.

Riki had always been really sweet over his actions whenever the two of you alone, but to to be this bold was much of a surprise. “T-thanks…”

To your surprise, Sunghoon squeals a little, “Damn! You’re actually like, not afraid anymore.”

Riki gives him a glare, Jongseong chuckles, “Tough kid all grown up.” He ruffles Riki’s hair. Over the course of a few weeks, these boys have come to grown closer and more intact with their friendship. Prior to Riki leaving, he wasn’t really intent on making much friends.

“He’s actually trying to be a gentleman now.” Rei teases.

Riki grumbles, rolling his eyes at how they treat him like a kid. Jungwon simply just smiles and agrees to the context of whatever the text was. He never responds when something like this happens, he never teases nor does he join in either. Likewise with Naomi, content with short laughs and smiles.

“Ugh, whatever. I have to go, see you guys after my game?” Riki bids farewell, he then pats your head. “See ya, chum.”

And he smiles, leaving once more to go to the field where his teammates were all preparing for the game.

“You know…” Naomi suddenly starts, her tone unusually quite just for you to hear. She looks at you, a glossy tint on her eyes. She looked like she was about to cry. “That time at the field trip, I think you know what happened—”

You quickly cut her off, “Oh, no, no. I happened to stumble upon it but I didn’t eavesdrop into the conversation, don’t worry.”

“I know, I think it’s right if tell you anyways.”

You furrow your brows, why now of all times? Besides, you’d already let that part go and choose not to dwell on something so insignificant any longer.

“That time I confessed to him at the trip,” Naomi’s voice got impossibly smaller, she fumbles with her shirt. “I told him I really liked him. You know what he told me?”

From your peripheral vision, you see a sliver of Jungwon listening in cautiously.

“What?”

She looks at you and chuckles, “That he doesn’t see something happening between us and he was just focused on getting your heart back.”

You no longer had time to response as a loud whistle and horn erupted from the crowd signalling the game was about to begin.

“Decelis Academy vs The Tigers!”

The athletes of Decelis Academy enters, it wasn’t a home court for either athletes, but the cheers for Decelis Academy was loud and booming. Some even held their banners of the team proudly. From the corner of your eye and ear someone screams— Nishimura Riki go! So delicious and so good!

Weird ass much?

You opted to ignore some of the cheers, keeping your eye on one number and one number only— ten.

If Naomi’s words held some truth in them, Nishimura Riki definitely succeeded in getting your heart back and this time, you’ll definitely let him know.

The game eventually started with Decelis Academy claiming the ball and bouncing it to their side of the court. One of the students— 01. Lee Heeseung was it? He passes the ball to another you don’t know who student, but being barricaded by two students from the oposing team. The student eventually passes the ball to Riki knowing he was trapped, Riki catches the ball with ease and shoots a three point.

All of you screamed and shouted, jumping around so excitedly for the point. It’s not like it was his first point ever, but something about seeing it so close up for the first time— Riki playing and all, ignited something within you. You grinned, finding yourself too giddy whenever he scored a point, and pouting whenever he got knocked over and blocked by the opposing team.

It wasn’t even a matter of you supporting the team anymore.

“Unfair much?” Rei teases, observing your very tense posture as you wait for Riki to catch another three pointer. Riki shoots it with such a precision, his hand must have a ruler or something like that.

“Whoooo!!!” You screamed and jumped and jumped, your excitement being the center of attention to your group of friends. You see Riki looking around a bit, eventually catching your eye. He runs to the opposite side of the court in a silly way, giving you a little grin.

Sunoo smiles, “I think you’ll be coming to more basketball games more often.” He attempts to scream through the noise, Sunghoon chuckles. “She’s definitely got the spirit.”

The match eventually ends with Decelis Academy leading a few points more than those tigers, and when it was time to gather up, all of you collectively agreed to congratulate Riki and Heeseung (he was apparently a friend of Jungwon.)

“Congratulations!” All of you beam at the same time, Heeseung and Riki were drained in sweat, barely even having the time to muster before the boys came in and engulfed them in a warm hug. Through protests and groans, the two eventually gave in to the embrace. The three of you just stand back, chatting along some other topics as you waited for them to finish their conversation.

Falling into a conversation with Naomi wasn’t hard, you’ve always been friendly and close with her even before. But maybe, the views have changed a little bit.

After few topics and sharing laughs with the group, the two eventually had to part and go their separate ways. Jungwon, Jongseong, Sunoo, and Sunghoon bid their farewells, you had a very positive feeling this wouldn’t be the last time you’ll see nor technically hang out with them.

Naomi too, had to go and leave. Eventually, it was just you and Riki left as Rei had went to the bathroom for a little while. Riki insisted on walking you over to the bus stop while his team got ready on their own bus. So, it was just you beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

The silence was deafening, Riki wasn’t really speaking much at all. “I hope Rei comes soon, the bus might come over any moment.” You try and fill in the void.

Riki simply nods. The unnerving quiteness lasts for a few seconds before he says, “Hey um, chum— would you mind if we go out a bit later at night?”

You paused in your tracks, “Go out? Where?”

“I kind of want to—” Riki scratches the back of his head sheepishly, “treat you to a little something as a thank you for watching my match.”

“As a thank you? It’s okay, you don’t—”

“What I’m trying to say here is I’m asking you out tonight if that’s okay.” Riki finally goes straight to the point, twisting his body so now, he faced you. Suddenly, you feel your heart pumping louder and louder, stumbling out, “You’re— um— what? Asking me out?”

Riki nods. “If that’s okay chum? I mean it’s fine if—”

“No! No, I would love to. Where do you want to go?”

“There’s a cute coffee shop around your neighborhood nearby, let’s go there?”

“S-sure, what time do you want to go?”

“Is six pm okay?” You nod, looking into his eyes shyly. Riki smiles, you see the way his face lights up as his fingers squeezed your cheeks, “Great. I’ll come pick you up?”

“Okay.”

”Okay.” He pats your head, “See you later pretty girl?”

“Mmh. See you later.”

Riki eventually leaves once Rei comes back, she sees your flustered face, “I’m hoping he hasn’t kissed you out here in broad daylight.”

You smacked her arm, hiding away your tomato cheeks, “Stop! It wasn’t he just— asked me out.”

“Finally!” Rei beams surprisingly, the bus arrives shortly after and you continue your conversation as you go inside. There’s one thing you’ve been curious of with Rei ever since this whole thing happened.

“Rei can I ask you something?”

She hums, “You know Riki is a bit more of a trouble maker and all that. You find him rowdy right?” She nods at your statement, “I find it that you don’t harbor any certain ill feelings towards Riki, why’s that?”

Rei deadpans, looking at you with her face flat. “Are you kidding me?” She asks, as if the question was too ridiculous to even answer. “I have hundreds of ill feelings towards that boy! Look at how he ghosted you all of a sudden, and how he doesn’t care about his grades and how—”

You immediately cut her off, “I’m sorry! Nevermind! The question was too ridiculous to ask.”

If you’d pressed on further and maybe attempted to defend Riki, in the end, it would end up with Rei being on the winning end. Rei was naggy, but she was right most of the time. Rei sighs, leaning back into the bus chair.

“I talked to him one time after your entire argument and ignoring each other stage.” She says, pertaining to where you and Riki had blatantly ignored each other after the field trip.

You gasped, “You what?”

“I talked to him.” She repeats, matter-of-factly.

“Why?”

“You guys were dragging it more than it needed to be, I tried and talk to you but you wouldn’t budge. So naturally, Riki wouldn’t budge either.” You stay silent, Rei continues, “You looked so miserable you know? And every time I see Riki pass by, he always had this frown on his face and I could more or less guess why.”

“So I talked to him about it, and I told him what he really thinks of you.”

You hesitated before asking, “…. What does he really think of me?”

“He said he doesn’t want to lash out his jealousy on you so he chooses to stay silent for a little while during the trip. Then, you started completely ignoring him on the way home. Which is, the two of you are completely stupid, I can see that from this standpoint.” Rei rolls her eyes, “But— Riki had always really been the nonchalant person, so to see him say something like that was new for me too.”

“Riki said he didn’t know what to do because he doesn’t want to lose you but he doesn’t want to feel like controlling you either knowing how much he’d hurt you in the past. So, I gave him a little push to give you that letter in the Love Box. I never imagined he would actually do it, but the way he did it was really childish and not even secretive in any way.”

You chuckle, remembering the moments a few months back. It was, indeed childish, very Riki. “I guess that’s part of his charms, though. Very straightforward and monotonous. Regardless, that time when I talked to him, it didn’t seem like he was lying with his intentions with you so I’ll give him the free pass— for now.”

The last part felt more like a threat than comfort on your end, but your heart swooned anyways, placing the pieces of puzzle together inside your head. One piece, being from Rei’s personality of keeping you safe and well attended to in any matter, the other, finally clearing up the misunderstanding that had jumbled and racked your mind. And finally, the last piece being Nishimura Riki.

You had a clear vision of what you want to say to him now, what to tell him.

It was stupid, as Rei would always tell you. Regardless of it being stupid, dumb, chaotic or what not, one thing remained certain in a sea full of doubts— you like Riki and he likes you back.

Your parents would always tell you to absolutely, no matter what, one hundred percent— not have a boy over at home whenever no one was around.

But the sudden disappearance of your parents, only leaving you with a sudden chat of, ‘your grandma is sick, we’ll come back tomorrow!’ tells you it wasn’t really your fault.

Well, it partly is.

And it was partly Riki’s too.

You were just nervous, is all. Plus, Riki wasn’t even going to your house, he was just there to literally pick you up. What was there to worry about?

Everything.

It was currently 5:50 PM, ten minutes before Riki arrives. It felt like your skirt was a bit too tight around your waist (it was not), your necklace felt like it was choking you to death (it was just you), your top felt like it was too… little? You were just anxious at this point.

Your cat comes around, perhaps sensing your distressed state. She rubs her face around your leg, an action you find absolutely adorable as worried dissipated momentarily.

Then, you feel your phone ping, you quickly opened to see and check the message.

Riki: pretty girl are you all ready?

You: Yes!

Riki: oki im almost near ur house

You: Okay, I’m not sure if I dressed up enough…

Riki: you’re pretty either way, doesn’t matter

You: Girl.

Gosh, you’d punch Riki in the gut if you had the chance. The way he states something so easily like that is what surprises you every time, now you were even more conscious with your attire! What you wore wasn’t even bad, a cargo skirt paired with a similar jacket and a tube top. Your shoes were just loafers, comfortable enough for the walking.

Maybe you were just overstimulated considering this was technically the first date.

Ding.

Speaking of the first date, you hear the doorbell chime in and you hurriedly came down from your bedroom, nearly tumbling upon your own two feet as you did so. You opened the door, you honestly wish you hadn’t and just kept it closed.

“Hi chum.”

Riki’s dressed in all black. He wore tattered denim pants and white shoes, it was paired with a graphic tee and denim jacket. His hair was tousled slightly, indicating it had been a bit styled, lips parted to greet you in a gentle manner. It seemed he was into accessories too, with the way it adorned his neck and waist, dangling about.

You definitely should have kept the door closed.

“Hi.” Came your breathless response.

Though, the better response would be— how in the world did you go from dressing like an emoji to a literal fashion icon?

Weird, something’s beating and it’s definetely your heart.

“Ready to go?” Riki asks, you nod and exit your house. “Oh, I haven’t introduced myself to your parents yet.”

You shrug, “They’re not really around today, they’re at my grandmas… Maybe tomorrow?” You turn and lock the door. With the way you had suggested it, it seemed like you were suggesting him to come back tomorrow and visit you. Regardless, Riki does not bring it up and only smirks in response.

“I’ll greet them tomorrow, then. And see? I was right, you look pretty whatever you wear.”

“Can I punch you.”

Riki chuckles. “I’m not teasing you.”

The sun had already began to set as you walk side by side with Riki, there was a deafening silence in the air following his flirty responses, similar to when he walked with you at the bus stop a couple hours prior. It was killing you, what was he thinking of?

“So… Where’s the coffee shop you wanted us to try?” You couldn’t bear the stillness any longer. Riki only grins, patting your head. “Just a few minutes walk away, do you trust me?”

You nod slowly, but there was mischief in his eye. Riki smiles, unconsciously or perhaps willingly— he took your fingers within his grasp and started walking a little faster.

Warm. That was what his hand felt like. Slightly calloused from all the basketball he’s been playing, but it was gentle and calm with the way he held your hand. Perhaps willingly once more, he intertwined your fingers with his and walked along as if it was nothing. His back was facing you, and once again, you couldn’t see what he his expression was.

Yet, the subtle twitch of his touch proved a little something, and the redness of the tip of his ears was more than enough to let you know Riki was nervous.

You didn’t let go of his hand, albeit it feeling like your whole body was about to explode. Often times, it felt like you were outright tiptoeing with Riki, reaching the verge of acting like a couple yet you were not. It was risky and dangerous, something you hoped would end by the end of the night.

You hoped he felt the same too.

After a few minutes of walking, the two of you eventually reach a lit up cafe. Riki enters, you follow suite, given he did not let go of his grasp on you. The outside felt a little small, but the inside was definitely different.

It was a grassy little field, with an abundance of trees surrounding the counter where you are made to order. What makes it different is the fact that the trees were large and sturdy, each tree having two to three treehouses built upon them. The inside of the treehouse looked spacious too, lit up with some LED lights on the inside.

The entire placed looked like a fairy garden, in all honesty.

Something that came out of a fairytale, like a place for little elves for there were so many trees. Some trees had lights hanging upon their leaves, a few seats were seated at the shade of those trees too. Quiet a few people occupied the seats, and it made you wonder how he came to know of this place.

“I didn’t know something like this existed near our neighborhood?!” You gaped like a little kid buying a doll for the first time, Riki chukles at your reaction. “You never go out save for when there’s school.”

Pouting, you nod along. Riki wasn’t lying, outsides perhaps just wasn’t really your thing.

“It’s— it’s beautiful, wow!”

You were too busy admiring to notice that you were right in fromt of the counter, a nice lady who had piercings, colored hair, and similar clothes to Riki took your order. There were quite a few baristas, each one having a different style than the next as if their avatars were that customizable. Probably college students who took arts and design.

“What do you want to get pretty girl?” Riki urges you as she smiles as the staff who swoon over his face. You ignore it, shrugging, “Anything is fine for me.”

“Hmm, is a latte fine?” Riki suggest, you agree and he orders ahead. Completely ignoring what he was even ordering, you kind of just admired such ethereal place that existed right before your eyes. You definitely had to come to this place more often, and you had to come out for more in general, really.

Once Riki finished his order, he asked if there was a treehouse available. The staff nodded, pointing to quite a few. He thanks the staff and held your hand once more to guide you to one of them. “This is so magical, Riki, wow! It’s—”

“Pretty isn’t it?” Riki looks at you with a smug grin, as if he’d plan the mos top notch date of your life. And he has, he probably will continue to do so. “I can’t believe I don’t even know this was just around our neighborhood.

“I like to explore places, I happen to have found this place while—” Riki stops middway, “Nevermind.”

While he contemplated visiting you on the way home from one of his games.

“What is it?” You urge him, “It’s nothing.” He says back. You choose not to pry, eventually reaching one of the treehouses and entering it. The space was lole any childhood dream, tapestries of random posters, board games, a mini record player, a small table and color mats decorated the treehouse. It was bright too, with the way the LED lights hang dimly. You sat on the mat, crossing your legs. Riki, somehow manages to do the same given his height. He was cramped though.

“You’re too tall.” You giggle.

“Yeah?” He just chuckles, trying to fit is oddly long legs. Riki sits beside you, rather than across you, a gesture you appreciated a little more than you’d like. “Wanna play some card games?” He offers, you agree with excitement and watch as he pulls out an uno.

“Uno? I’ll have you know, I’m pretty good at that game.” You boast.

“Really? So am I.”

Riki’s competitiveness allowed him to win a single match, you challenged him for another because you know he’ll tease you relentlessly and put his victory over your head for a while. You were on the verge to winning, when the food came in and Riki used the excuse of— needing to eat— because he was hungry.

You grumble. “That’s so unfair.” Riki pokes your cheek, laughing at he put a piece of fry in his mouth. “I won! Ha!”

But all disappointment faded away when he feeds you a piece of fry. Riki ordered quite a bunch, a couple of meals and sides as well as your drinks. “Riki, I’ll pay half of the food. How much—”

“Wow this chicken is delicious, try it.” He feeds you a piece of the chicken, you hesitantly chew on it.

“How much do I—”

“Ooh! My latte is pretty good too, want a sip?” Riki quickly places the straw to your mouth, waiting for you to sip but you don’t. It was clear what he’s trying to do here. “I swear, Nishimura Riki—”

“Are these cheese on the fries? They’re so cheesy! Geez, have another one.”

You didn’t even have time to speak when he was already plopping the fry on your mouth and you had no other choice but to chew on it. “I seriously can’t believe you.”

At this point, he was just being a dork. Riki snorts, taking your hand in his once again and kissing the back of it with ease. A gentleman, tempting, dork, that is.

Riki smiles, caressing your hand with his thumb as he shrugs. “It’s always on me, pretty girl.”

“But I can’t—”

“Just this once? Please?” Riki turns on that puppy eyes, a capability of his you never knew he could do. Adorable. With a sigh, you agree, “I’ll pay for it next time, okay?”

He grins, “There’s no guarantee in that, chum.”

For a few more hours, you spent your time, heart and stomach full from the stories and the food you and Riki shared.

“I’m stuffed, my gosh.” A little rub of your belly was all it took for Riki to chuckle. Chatting away mindlessly paired with food was not really such a good combo. “Me too, how was the food?”

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?” Riki tilts his head, you roll your eyes. “After I just ate my ass off here! But thank you, Riki.” You grin at him, thankful for him being ever so generous. This was, beytechnicality, your first date after all.

“I’m glad, pretty girl.” Is all Riki says before the two of you turn to leave the treehouse and the cafe all at once after parting with sad goodbyes. You’d have to come here more often, and with Riki as your accompanin for the next few times.

The sun had already been long gone the moment you left the cafe, with nothing but the street lights decorating the pavements. It was unfortunately, very cold. Cold enough to have your legs shivering and your thin cargo jacket aim uneffective. Riki noticed this, taking off his own thick jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders. It was twice your size.

“Oh, no, Riki it’s okay—”

“Keep it, chum.” Riki cuts you off, you simply nod to his statement, not refusing the warmth his jacket provided. Oh, and the scent of his perfume too. The two of you walk around aimlessly side by side, fingers and shoulders brushing past each other dangerously. No one spoke, until you broke the silence,

“Riki, I—”

“Y/N, I—”

“Ah, you go first.”

“Alright well um, thank you for today Riki. I really appreciated the treat, and—”

It seemed the universe worked in your favor, as the moment you spoke, the park you walked over to lit up with bright lights. It was cold, but the warmth of Riki’s shoulders provided shelter to your shivering body. You stood below a tree— a cherry blossom tree — where it’s pink hues fell with such certainty. A pile of the petals had collected below your feet, with the way the light shown, it honestly felt like you were the main character of a romance drama.

“For this, for everything, the past few months you’ve been treating me so well and kind.”

“It’s because I want to make up for the time I’ve lost.” This time, Riki faced you. He met your sincere face confessing to your heart’s content. “For the time I just disappeared without a trace, I want to make up for that, pretty girl.”

You chuckle, “You already have.”

It was but a subtle movement, Riki moves a tad bit closer. “But that’s besides the point. Thing is, I really— I like you Riki. It’s hard when my feelings are all jumbled and I’m still scared to fall in love, but I won’t deny the fact that I really like you.”

And he moves closer, “And?”

“And I know I may not be the most perfect person, I’m a bit of a mess at times and you—” Riki gently places his hand on your cheeks, shushing you. “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true, people admire you a lot while I—”

“And I admire you a million times more than those people, Y/N.”

Riki sees you as a whole, the bigger picture to his puzzle pieces. Someone who, despite tumbling across the world’s inevitable problems, manages to stand her ground and keep her stance. Someone who never ran away from the things people throw at you, someone who despite being wronged for hundreds of times, you always find the forgiveness in the depths of your heart.

If not for that, Riki wouldn’t be standing here right now in front of you, with the same look of pure admiration in his eyes. If not for that, Riki wouldn’t even had the chance to get back on his own two feet to keep you close to him, to hold you.

“Really?”

“Really.”

You ease into his touch, Riki moves impossibly closer.

“Can I say something?”

“Yeah?”

“I like you too, pretty girl.”

Closer, closer, until— “Can I kiss you?”

But it was more of a statement than a question because the moment you finish mumbling a breathless yes, his lips were already on yours.

It came in so suddenly, one minute you can feel the fanning of his breath, the next, all you can feel was the plump lips of his pushing against yours. The kiss was shy, hesitant even. Riki held firm, pressing just a tad bit more as his fingers caressed your supple cheeks. It was like electricity with maximum voltage, his touch kept you intact and addicted. The way he held you like you were a fragile, porcelain doll made you feel like jelly in his touch. One of hands snaked around your waist, pulling you closer if that was even possible.

Your mind was in a daze, too lost on reciprocating his feather lips and too hung up on the fact that Riki was actually kissing you. Like silly little highschoolers, like silly little kids— he kissed you just like that.

It wasn’t heated, nor was it filled with desire. It was just— breath taking in a way that your lips molded together and was filled with nothing but love and unspoken emotions for the past few years. Sweet his lips were, firm were his hands upon you. When the two of you eventually ran out of breath, he parts his lip from yours ever so slightly and connects his forehead with yours.

You did not believe that just happened.

“Was that— was that okay?”

Riki asks, but with the way he was clutching you close made you get the feeling that it was more than just okay on his end. You nod shyly, cowering away. But Riki laughs, gripping your fingertips which attempted to cover your flushed cheeks,

“Pretty girl…”

He kisses your forehead, “Is it safe to assume I’ve won your heart again?”

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ END *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Extras!

The start of April symbolized new beginnings, the end of March wraps every chapter up.

“For the last song recommendation, I’ll be playing fifteen by Taylor Swift.”

Fingers grasp the rough CD, perhaps the last one you’ll ever touch in such a place— your school for four years. It leaves a bittersweet feeling down your stomach, but you clutch the pain and let the music roll in.

You take a deep breath And you walk through the doors It's the morning of your very first day

“Today is the last day of the Seniors in Decelis Academy, and this day marks their graduation.”

You say hi to your friends you ain't seen in awhile Try and stay out of everybody's way

“As we seniors part way to head towards a brighter future, may all learnings imparted upon us be used in the near future.”

It's your freshman year And you're gonna be here for the next four years In this town

“For all students of this Academy, thank you for sticking by and supporting the Love Box, future officers will hold the name of this box and continue our practice.”

Hoping one of those senior boys Will wink at you and say "You know I haven't seen you around, before"

“And this is the President of the Radio Club, signing off.”

'Cause when you're fifteen And somebody tells you they love you You're gonna believe them

“May all your dreams and aspirations come true, students of Decelis Academy!”

You lower the volume of your mic down and let the music play. Fifteen when you first entered highschool, fifteen when you fell in love for the first time. You look around the Radio Club room, feeling pride and sadness swell in your stomach.

Then the bell rang. It was time to part and finally graduate.

“Let’s go chum?”

Someone knocks from the door.

It was time to graduate with him alongside you.

You turn to him, a somber expression on your face. Riki nears you, he holds his diploma tube in one hand. This was the first time you’ve seen him in prim and proper uniform, it suited him way more than his disheveled, improper look. He looked handsome, and you could tell he thought you were pretty too, with the way his eyes sparkled.

And when you're fifteen Feeling like there's nothing to figure out

“You done with the announcements?” He asks, gently moving a stray of hair away from your face. “I’ll miss this place.”

“I know you will, chum.” He grins, fishing something out from his pocket. It was a brown paper, perhaps coffee-coated to achieve the vintage look. Its edges were also burnt, “What’s this?”

Riki urges you to read it, you open the paper.

It read:

“I’m not good with letters, I’m not good with words, so excuse this silly excuse of a letter. But this is for you, chum. The person I admire most since I was fifteen, the person I’m glad I got to meet. As we enter a new path together, we don’t really know what will come ahead of us and what challenges we have to face. But I know one thing— that we’re certain. I’m not scared, I’m excited even. I’m excited to be going through life with you, I’m excited to be with you. And I’m glad I got to spend my highschool life together with you despite it not going in such a smooth way.

I love you, pretty girl. Always.”

Tears stained the brown-colored paper, all you felt was the prickling of your eyes. You were crying.

You read the paper over and over and over. Riki was looking someplace else, embarassed to have you reading the letter outloud despite having suggested to do so. But upon hearing your sniffles, a worried response immediately came from him.

“Are you okay? Hey—” His fingers brushed away the tears from your eyes, “Is my handwriting or grammar that bad?”

You shook your head, “It’s beautiful Riki, it’s—”

Something washes over you and you immediately held him tight in your embrace. Riki was surprised, but he hugs you regardless, patting your head and tightening his hold around your shoulder. You sniffled in his arms.

“Don’t cry, I thought I did something wrong, hey—” He pulls your shoulder back, “You’re crying even more!”

“I can’t help it I—” You wipe your tears, “I love receiving things like this.”

Riki sighs in adoration, nearing your head and wiping away the tears that adorned your face. If he knew you loved receiving such things, he would’ve done so long ago. He didn’t want to see you crying, especially if he was the reason despite it being for such a good cause.

“Pinky promise me something, chum.” His hands continue to cascade away your tears, cooing at your adorableness.

“Yeah?”

He holds his pinky finger out, “That you’ll spend your forever with me no matter the season. I won’t leave you again, not this time.”

You laugh, “Is that even a question that needs asking?” Intertwining your pinky finger with his and enclosing the promise— together and forever. No matter the season, even if the cherry blossoms no longer fall, even when winter feels too cold and summer feels too hot.

Riki smiles ever so gently— kissing you cheekily.

The mic of control system buffers, and something rings.

It was an indicator that the mic had gone silent, just this very moment.

And then you hear it, the screams and cheers of the students around.

Well, count to ten Take it in This is life before you know who you're gonna be At fifteen.

[tommiib]

The Mistake We Keep Making ~ P.SH

warnings: angst, suggestive, depressed reader, infidelity, cheating, self hatred, toxic hwa.

wc: 1.5k

Just a little drabble.. I hope you enjoy!

How did you end up here? Naked. Vulnerable. Sticky.

It’s a tale you’re all too familiar with, a story that should have ended long ago—one that should have never begun. You know it’s wrong, but you can’t help it. Not when he smiles at you like you’ve made his day, not when he brings you lunch during your grueling study sessions, not when he’s between your legs, devouring you like you’re his last meal, whispering how beautiful you are, how sweet you taste, how good you feel. Not when he looks up at you with hooded eyes, bottom lip quivering as he spills into you. Not when you collapse into each other, bodies tangled, drowning in a high you were never meant to share.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be with him.

You both knew it.

--------

“Y/N.”

Your name pulls you back, snapping you out of your daze. You’ve been zoning out more lately—a side effect of exhaustion, of self-inflicted chaos. The weight of your last year in university, the pressures of grad school applications, a demanding internship, moving out of your old apartment before the lease expires. You’re barely holding it together, and maybe that’s why you keep making the same mistakes. Why you keep letting him in.

“Huh—oh, yes?” you blink, refocusing on Lara, her golden nose ring glinting under the soft apartment lighting. Gorgeous as ever, her warm brown skin flawless, her long red curls framing a face too symmetrical to be real.

“You’re scaring me,” she says, eyes scanning you with concern. “You keep zoning out. I think you have too much on your plate.”

She knows you too well. She always has. You’re a chronic overachiever, running yourself into the ground without ever leaving space to breathe. The difference is, Lara has balance. She’s just as busy—final year, business major, yet somehow her life is seamless. Perfect boyfriend, a family with money, an apartment that isn’t suffocating under the weight of bad decisions.

Meanwhile, you trick yourself into thinking that 5am gym sessions compensate for the disorder of your life, that productivity masks your wreckage. You can’t even remember a time when you weren’t a mess.

“I think so too,” you admit, sighing. “But I’m too deep in. I worked so hard for that internship, I can’t screw it up now. Maybe once I finish moving, things will settle.” You take a sip of your hot chocolate, hoping the warmth will calm your nerves.

“I literally offered to hire movers for you.”

“Okay, but who’s going to unpack all my shit?”

“I said I’d help you.”

You shake your head. “I don’t like people touching my things.”

Lara scoffs. “Why do you make things so hard for yourself?”

You don’t know. You really don’t. But it’s a pattern—one you can’t seem to break.

“You know I like doing things myself, Lara. If I can’t handle it alone, then what’s the point?” It’s a mindset etched into your bones.

She exhales sharply, rolling her eyes. “I don’t understand you.”

“Me neither.” You chuckle, but it’s hollow.

She convinces you to let her help with the move, and though you resist, you’re relieved. You’re grateful to have her, even if a small, ugly part of you resents how effortlessly put-together she is.

You’ve known Lara since third grade, since you found her beating up the class bully, Seth. You were inseparable after that. Her 4’9, 60-pound eight-year-old self had taken on the biggest guy in the grade and won. She was fearless, independent, kind—all the things you pretend to be. Maybe that’s why you push away her help. Accepting it feels like pity. It’s cruel to feel that way about your best friend, but you can’t help it.

She’s perfect without trying. And you…

You’re crying. Alone. In your car. In the parking garage of Lara’s apartment.

Pathetic.

You slam your forehead against the steering wheel, frustration bubbling up in your throat. You’re so sick of crying. Sick of feeling. Sick of yourself. The weight of everything—the past, the present, the future—presses down on your chest, suffocating.

Your phone vibrates.

A name you should’ve erased long ago lights up your screen.

Hwa: I want to see you.

You exhale sharply, fingers tightening around your phone. He always seems to find you when you’re at your lowest. As if he has a sixth sense for your weakness. But the truth is, you wouldn’t have said no even if he’d texted at any other time.

You: I need you, Hwa.

And that’s the worst part.

Because it’s not just loneliness. It’s not just sex. It’s something much darker, much deeper. A sickness rooted in your bones, in your mind, in the way you let yourself believe that this—this—is the only way you can feel anything at all.

Maybe that’s why you always end up in his bed.

Even though you know that’s not where you’re supposed to be.

-------

Seonghwa’s fingers trace the curve of your jaw, tilting your face toward his. The warmth of his touch sends a slow burn through your veins, igniting something reckless inside you.

“Angel,” he murmurs, voice smooth, coaxing. “Look at me.”

You do, blinking up at him from where you rest in his lap, curled into him on the couch. He smells like cedarwood and sin, his presence intoxicating. The movie playing on the screen is long forgotten, drowned out by the steady drum of your pulse.

It’s always the same routine—he comes over, you eat, you talk, you fuck. Repeat. Some nights feel different. Some nights, he lingers. Holds you a little longer. Whispers things in the dark that make your chest ache. Tonight is one of those nights.

His wife and daughter are away for the weekend, visiting family. He couldn’t go because of work.

You don’t know who you hate more. Him. His wife. Or yourself.

You hum softly, lashes fluttering as you meet his gaze. His thumb brushes against your lower lip, eyes darkening.

“You’re so quiet tonight,” he muses. “What’s on your mind?”

Everything. Nothing. You.

Instead of answering, you shift in his lap, pressing your thighs together. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed. His hand tightens on your jaw, the other gripping your waist. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyes locked onto yours, heavy with intent.

He leans in, breath warm against your skin.

“Tell me what you need.”

You swallow, heart hammering. You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t. But your body betrays you, melting into him, chasing his warmth.

You whisper the words you always do, the ones that keep you bound to him in this cycle of ruin.

“You.”

Without hesitation, Hwa leans down, his lips meeting yours with a tenderness that should not belong to you. It is slow, deliberate—loving. The kind of kiss a man gives his wife, the kind of kiss a man should give his wife. And yet, here he is, pressing that devotion into you, stealing what was never yours to have.

"Hwa," you breathe between his kisses, your voice barely a whisper, more of a plea than a protest. 

"Hm?" He hums, lost in you, unaware—or perhaps too aware—of how he unravels you piece by piece. 

"You're so gentle tonight," you murmur, tilting your head to grant him access, surrendering before you can think twice. His lips trail down your jaw, onto the delicate skin of your neck, his breath warm against your pulse. 

"I finally have as much time with you as I want," he says, each word pressing into you like a brand. "I'm going to take my time. Savor you. Every part of you."

The words hit deep, sinking into the hollow spaces you pretend don’t exist. He wants to savor you. To be with you. To consume you slowly, as if you are something precious, something worth lingering over. But are you? Is this self-destruction or indulgence? Is this a wound or a reward?

"I missed you so much, angel. Your smell, your face, your taste. Always so pretty for me. You know that?" 

Here he goes again, whispering the words he knows will break you apart, dissolving the fragile pieces of your restraint. He knows you too well. Maybe that’s why he chose you. He knew you were empty, a void waiting to be filled, so he poured himself into you—made you whole in the only way he knew how. Physical love, fleeting love, the kind that fades with the morning light. Because there’s no way he could truly love you, right?

Hwa strips away his shirt, then yours, discarding them like the last remnants of reason. His hands are firm yet reverent as he lifts you, carrying you toward your empty, half-packed room. He stumbles over a box, nearly losing balance, and you let out a quiet laugh. 

He silences you with a kiss, deep and claiming, before laying you tenderly onto the mattress. 

Tonight, you are his. 

Tonight, he is yours. 

And when the morning comes, reality will take him back. 

But for now—for now, he lingers.