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likeumeanit9497 · 6 months ago

Text

please baby | c. s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: chris and y/n have always had what felt like a perfect relationship. that is, until a few weeks ago. chris had been treating y/n poorly, and after one especially hurtful conversation, she is forced to make a difficult decision. when chris comes to the realization that he is about to lose it all, will he swallow his pride and do what he needs to win her back?

warnings: established relationship; smut; angst; fighting; (relatively) toxic chris; crying; unprotected sex; fluff; 18+

notes: based on this request by 🎀. i've never rlly written an angsty fic before, so let me know what u all think! also wrote this super quick so i don't think it's my best work, but still i hope u enjoy <333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Through tears, I stared blankly at my phone. My eyes had been glued to my lit up screen for the past two minutes — unmoving, and unable to register what I was reading. Even with blurry vision, Chris’ last message to me was seared into my memory.

Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.

Just as my brimmed tears finally spilled over, so did the water I was boiling on the stove. The immediate steam and sizzling noises pulled me from my phone, and frustrated for more than one reason, I raced over to the stove and shoved the pot off of the element; leaving the boiling pasta noodles to sit in the water. Just looking at my failed attempt at dinner brought on a new level of pain, as it was a reminder of what I hoped that the night could be.

Chris, my boyfriend of almost one year, was supposed to be coming over tonight. I had been super excited, because both of our schedules had been especially busy lately and we hadn’t been able to spend much time together over the past three weeks, plus I had some good news to share with him about my work. I had wanted to make the night special, so I had decided to cook one of Chris’ favourite meals — chicken alfredo — to surprise him with once he arrived.

He was currently stuck at the warehouse for a merch meeting with Nick, Matt, and his manager, and he had told me that he would come over and spend the night once he was done there. That was a few hours ago, and I had been patiently waiting for an update from him until about thirty minutes ago, when I sent him a simple message asking if he had any idea when he would be done at the warehouse. Little did I know, that singular message would cause a massive storm to erupt.

Y/n: hey babe! just wondering if you have an idea on when you can come over?

Chris: Not rlly sure

Y/n: okay…rough estimate maybe?

Y/n: just have some things i need to get done before u get here hehe

Chris: I’ll get there when I get there.

Y/n: uh..is something wrong?

Chris: No why

Y/n: ur being kinda mean???

Chris: No I’m not

Y/n: ok

Chris: My god Y/n I don’t have time for this rn

Y/n: i just said ok

Y/n: you go ahead and go back to your meeting

Y/n: i was just asking for an update, that’s all.

Y/n: didn’t realize that was such a horrible thing.

Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.

Even though I hate to admit it, this wasn’t the first time that Chris had been an absolute asshole to me lately. Just last week, he had started a fight that ended with him hanging up the phone on me; only to call back a little while later to apologize. And then a few days before that, he had put zero effort into making time for me when I had tried to make plans for us to go to the movies. And during all of this, he has been incredibly dry over messages. It had been bothering me for a while now, because to me it was clear that he was losing interest. I knew that our relationship would be far from perfect going in to it, considering Chris had never been in a real relationship before me, but deep down I hoped that it would always be as perfect as it was at the beginning. Unfortunately for my hopes and dreams, his actions — or lack thereof — were shattering.

I wasn’t some oblivious girlfriend either; it was clear to me that Chris was going through something. I knew that for a fact, but every time I tried to get him to open up to me about it all, he shut me down with lame excuses: “Oh, I’m just tired,” or, “I’ve just been stressed lately”. I figured that he just needed time, and that eventually he would come to me and explain exactly what had been going on so that I could help him through it.

But now, after his hurtful words to me tonight, I was seriously considering my other options. I had been in far too many toxic relationships in the past, and had learned that I deserve more than what I had been accepting. I wouldn’t let myself be Chris’ punching bag anymore, and I knew right then and there that I had an incredibly painful task to do.

Allowing myself to be overtaken by my build up of tears, I slowly walked into my bedroom; turning off the lights and covering myself with my comforter. My shoulders heaved as I let the tears stream down my face; my brain accepting what I needed to do but my body rejecting it in every way possible. Through the tears, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Chris — telling him that I was tired and that he might as well not come at all tonight, but we should talk tomorrow — before curling into a ball and wallowing in my own sorrows.

I stayed in the exact same position for what felt like ages; allowing myself to get all of the emotions out now so that when I had to do what I had to do tomorrow I could do so without breaking down so hard. Eventually, my tears slowed and I felt my burning eyes begin to grow heavy. Sleep was beginning to overtake me, and as I gave into my exhaustion my mind filled with scenes of the nightmare that I was going to have to face tomorrow.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

I was startled out of my sleep by the sound of keys jangling from the direction of my front door. Disoriented, it took me a moment to be overtaken by the feeling of dread that came from hearing that noise. The only person who had a key to my apartment was Chris. Before, hearing his keys at my door filled my stomach with undeniable excitement — now, my stomach did anxious flips knowing what had to be done.

As I heard the door open and close, I rolled over so that I was facing away from my bedroom door and glued my eyes shut; pretending to still be asleep. I heard his soft footsteps on the other side of the door as he wandered through my dark apartment, before a hushed “shit!” broke the silence. After a few moments, I listened as his footsteps grew closer and closer to my bedroom door, and as I heard it slowly creak open, I braced for impact.

The room stayed silent, though I couldn’t really say that for sure since I couldn’t hear anything above the sound of my own racing heart in my ears. I did my best to stay completely still, though it felt like every part of my body was vibrating; waiting for his next move. Suddenly, I felt a shift in my mattress as his body leaned against it, and physically jumped at the feeling of his hand on my shoulder; shaking it gently.

“Y/n, wake up.” He spoke in a faux whisper, and, even though I had been pretending, I felt my body grow hot in anger that he would have the audacity to wake me from my sleep after showing up to my apartment uninvited. However, my body still not understanding that it wouldn’t belong to him much longer, I shot up from my place on the bed and searched for his eyes. The room was pitch black, but I could sense exactly where he was in front of me.

Rubbing my eyes, I searched the bed for my phone, checking the time to find that it was already nearly 2 a.m. I felt the mattress shift once again and watched his faint outline as he sat on his side of my bed. “Y/n, you left the stove on.” He was still whispering, and his sentence ended in a slight chuckle; clearly oblivious to the decision that I had made on my own just hours before.

Too heartbroken to really care about the stove, I shrugged my shoulders. “Whoops.” Was all I said to the silent room. “What happened? You fall asleep in the middle of making dinner or something?” His voice was still light-hearted, and was far from a tone that matched his previous texts to me. It made it so difficult for me to remember what I had to do.

“Turn the lamp on please.” I said simply, using every ounce of strength in my body to keep my tone monotonous. Chris stayed still for a moment, clearly thrown off by my behaviour. “Uh, okay.” He finally said as he leaned toward the bedside table closest to him and switched on the warm-toned light. After allowing my eyes time to adjust to the sudden brightness, they immediately fell on him.

Oh, my Chris.

His beautiful blue eyes were so kind and bright, his long hair was wet and messily draped across his forehead, and his matching oversized sweat set made me want nothing more than to curl into him and breathe him in. He stared at me blankly for a moment, clearly beginning to register that I was upset, before finally speaking. “I’m really sorry about earlier, baby. I had been in the meeting for hours and was getting really stressed out.” I felt the lump in my throat begin to grow. Some variation of that exact sentence had been the same excuse he had given me each and every time he had hurt me over the past few weeks, and it had lost its sincerity long ago. So, instead of giving into his cheap apology, I sat up in my bed and faced him; taking a deep breath before speaking.

“I have to tell you something. And I need you to let me say this without interrupting, or else I’m scared I won’t be able to go through with it. I’ve had to say this for a while now, and now that we are where we are I know it has to be done. So please, let me say it, okay?” His light eyes were focused intensely on me, he was clearly trying to figure out where this conversation was going. But finally, he swallowed before tentatively nodding his head. “O-okay.”

I closed my eyes, feeling my lower lip quiver as I tried to find my footing on this conversation. After taking a shaky breath, I finally found my voice. “I can’t do this anymore, Chris.” Immediately, my attempt at getting all my tears out of the way earlier proved to be a failure; because as soon as the heavy words left my mouth I broke down into sobs.

Over my crying, I heard Chris’ disbelieving voice. “What do you mean you’re done with this? With what? Me?” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, clearly being hit with the same emotions that I was. I stayed silent — my eyes screwed shut as I wrapped my arms around my torso; doing my best to comfort myself. “Y/n, please tell me what you’re talking about.” He pleaded, and I felt him scoot closer to me on the bed; placing a hesitant hand on my knee.

After catching my breath, I wiped my tears away and opened my eyes to find his frantically searching my face like an uncertain creature. “I know you’re going through something right now,” My voice was coming out nearly silent, but I continued, “And I tried so hard to be there for you, I really did Chris. But you won’t talk to me! Instead, you’ve been taking out all of your frustrations on me and treating me like absolute shit. Do you really think that’s okay?” I fought the lump in my throat as I got my words out, his shattered face no help in that department. Frantically, Chris shook his head. “No. No, it’s not okay, baby, and I’m really sorry. But please, please don’t do this.” His tone tugged at my heart strings as his desperation grew more and more transparent.

Shaking my head and closing my eyes, I shut him down. “Can you tell me why you’ve been acting the way you have?” I knew my question was pointless before I even asked it, but his silence confirmed it. Releasing an ironic chuckle, I continued. “I promised myself that I would never let another man treat me badly. I’ve put up with it far too many times, and no matter how much I love you, Chris, I can’t allow you to speak to me the way you have been lately.”

I opened my eyes and felt my heart sink at his ghostly expression, clearly on the verge of losing his shit. I brought a hand up to his cheek and stroked it for a moment, and as I did he closed his eyes and let a few tears fall. “I want you to get better, I really do. But I clearly can’t help you, so you need to do it on your own.” My own words felt like a stab in the chest, and I couldn’t help the tears as they streamed down my face. “Come to me when you’ve worked through your shit, and we can see if we can repair things. But for now, I need you to leave.”

At that, Chris’ eyes shot open in a panic and he immediately grabbed onto my leg. “No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this.” I turned my head away from him as his desperation became too much to bear. His hands traveled across my body in anguish, clearly losing all control of his emotions as the reality of our situation began to set in for him. His body slid off of the bed as he dissolved into tears against my comforter. Still having the instinct to comfort him, I scooted towards the edge of the bed, where I let my legs stretch out beside him as I ran my hands through his beautiful curls.

“Please, please baby, I swear to god I can’t do this shit without you.” He wretchedly pleaded with me, clutching my leg and trailing distressed kisses along it. I looked up at the sky, too pained by the scene that was playing out in front of me. “Chris, please, I need you to go.” I begged him, needing to put him out of his misery so that I could hurt in private. He maintained his grasp on my leg, sobbing inconsolably against it. I gave him a moment, in which he slowly began to regain control of his emotions. I watched as his sobbing grew quieter and his breathing slowed, before finally watching as he pulled himself up to his feet; the weight of our conversation evident in the way he held himself weakly.

He glanced down at me quickly, his blue eyes red and puffy, before turning away in what looked like shame. In utter silence, he turned and began walking slowly in the direction of my bedroom door. With his hand on the door knob, he paused for a moment. “I’m sorry.” His words were so quiet I could have easily missed them, but the sincerity cut through my heart like a knife. That sincerity hadn’t been present in any of the other apologies he gave me, and I was gutted that it appeared too late.

And then just like that, he was gone. I felt all the air leave my chest at the realization of what I had just done, and let my body fall back against my bed as tears once again poured down my cheeks. I couldn’t help but immediately question whether or not I had done the right thing. Was I a horrible person for abandoning the man I loved when he was so clearly dealing with something? Did I allow my fears of repeating my past distort my current reality? Were the things he said to me really that bad?

I was pulled out of my tormenting thoughts by a soft voice coming from my doorway.

“My meeting today wasn’t about merch.”

That was all that he said. That was all it took for my heart to begin to beat for him again. One small hint of vulnerability. Feeling humiliated internally, I sat up on my elbows and found him hovering in the doorway. “Talk to me about it Chris.” I sounded exacerbated even to my own ears, feeling frustrated from all of the overwhelming emotions that the evening held. Tentatively, he walked over to the bed and sat beside me on the edge, arms resting on his knees. After clearing his throat, he began to explain. “The meeting today wasn’t about merch, it wasn’t really about anything to be honest.” Confused, I waited in silence for him to continue.

“A few weeks ago, Laura brought up the idea of going on another tour. A European tour.” He paused for a moment. “Nick and Matt immediately agreed and wanted to start planning everything so that we could do it this summer, but I said I didn’t want to do it.” I watched the back of his head, slightly shocked by his words since I knew that he had enjoyed the previous tours so much. “We would be overseas for a month, and I didn’t want to be so far away from you for that long. So I told them I didn’t wanna do it.” He took a deep breath. “Now, Matt and Nick are super pissed at me. They’ve both been giving me the silent treatment for weeks outside of the few times when they’ve just tore me a new one. And sure, we’ve all fought before, but never this bad. It’s been going on for so long, and I feel like I’ve lost sight of everything without having them be there for me.” His voice grew thick with emotion, and I fought the urge to cry along with him.

“Things have gotten so bad between us, that Laura forced us all to come in tonight to basically have a supervised argument. We sat there for hours, Y/n, just screaming at each other. And we got nowhere. I stood firm in what I wanted and so did they, so that’s why it went on for so long. And that’s also why I have been treating you like a complete dick lately. Because even though you had no clue what was going on, I think a part of me was kinda blaming you for all this shit. And I know that wasn’t fair, I really do. I just didn’t know how to tell you all of this because I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”

He turned to look at me, grabbing at my hand that was lying dormant in the space between us. “And I’m so, so sorry that I treated you the way I did. You didn’t deserve it. At all. But please baby, please don’t leave me. Because if you do, I will be completely lost. You are my anchor, and I need you to be there for me.” Tears rolled down my face as his voice cracked in desperation. “And I swear, baby, I won’t treat you like shit ever again. If you can’t believe me, and if you’re really truly done, I’ll understand. But please, Y/n, if there’s any part of you that believes me, please don’t leave.” He dropped his head into my lap, wrapping his arm around my waist and gripping onto my oversized t-shirt. Out of instinct, I brought my hand to his face and began stroking it softly; wiping away his tears as I did.

We stayed that way for a long time, both of us sniffling, heaving messes. I couldn’t lie, his honesty truly impacted me. I knew that he had to have gone against every single one of his instincts to finally tell me what had been going on in his life, and the fact that he did meant so much to me. I knew that Chris was extremely reliant on his brothers being a constant in his life, and couldn’t even imagine how lost he must feel knowing that they’re against him. His problem was much more severe than I thought it would have been prior to him opening up, and I felt an overwhelming amount of empathy for him. I knew that his poor treatment of me — as wrong as it was — had been completely out of character, and as I sat there stroking his soft cheek, I decided that I would believe him.

“Come up here.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Immediately, Chris lifted his head off of my thighs and sat up, his face inches from mine. Without a moment of hesitation, I leaned forward and engulfed his lips with my own. He immediately reciprocated, and both of our tongues worked in unison to lap up the salty taste of each other’s tears. Chris leaned forward, encouraging me to fall back against my pillows as he continued his passionate assault on my lips. His mouth travelled down my neck, where I shuddered as I felt him place sucks and nibbles sure to leave a trail of purple bruises. His body was warm on top of mine, and I had never before felt so present with him; so aware of his every movement.

He moved down my body, stopping briefly at my chest to remove my shirt, before continuing down below my waist. With his tongue, he created a path from just below my belly button to my right hip bone, where he left another purple bruise; causing my skin to break out in goose bumps. Lifting my hips, he wasted no time in pulling my boy shorts off of my body and leaving me completely bare. He continued to leave gentle kisses along each square inch of my body surrounding my core, but making sure to leave the place where I needed his mouth the most completely untouched.

I began to grow impatient, my body temperature increasing as my body filled with arousal. As he placed a kiss on my inner thigh, I bucked my hips up in frustration; practically begging for contact. Noticing my agitation, Chris almost immediately obliged, and I gasped out in pleasure as his tongue began working its magic against my clit. With each hand holding up my thighs, Chris swirled his tongue relentlessly against my bundle of nerves. I struggled to keep my body still as his movements continued, and failed miserably once he inserted two of his fingers into my core. “Fuck Chris, t-that’s so good.” I moaned out as his tongue and fingers worked my cunt in harmony. The wet sounds of my arousal grew louder and louder as I began to approach my orgasm, and in reflex my hands tangled in his hair; doing everything I could to keep him exactly where I needed him.

“Gonna cum, baby.” I cried out, and his encouraging hum against my clit was enough to get me there. My back arched off of the bed as my body began to convulse. To keep me in place, Chris took his free hand and placed it firmly on my lower stomach; causing me to scream out in pleasure. His mouth and fingers continued to push me through my orgasm, and didn’t stop even after my nerves became over sensitive. “C-Chris please. Can’t take anymore.” I struggled to get out the words, but he listened. Detaching his mouth from my core, he dragged his body back up my own and came face to face with me.

With the glean of my arousal still on his lips, he kissed me so deep I felt my lungs inflate. I could taste myself on his tongue, and my eyes nearly rolled to the back of my head from the intensity of the moment. I broke the kiss for only a moment to pull his hoodie over his head; relishing in the feeling of his bare chest against my own. Through his sweatpants, I could feel his bulging member press against my pelvis, and I reached in between our bodies and pulled his waistband down along with his boxers. Now completely free, his cock dribbled pre-cum down my stomach. With my hand still between us, I collected what was left of his fluid along his slit before slowly stroking my hand up and down his swollen shaft.

His breath hitched as I continued my movements, and he thoughtlessly bucked his hips into my hand to increase the friction along his trembling member. My hand twisted around his dick for a few more pumps, before I slowly guided it down toward my entrance. Once Chris felt the heat of my core at the tip of his cock, he looked down at me with darkened eyes — still slightly puffy from his previous tears — and dropped his jaw as he began to slide into me.

I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his sizeable girth, and released a breathy moan as he bottomed out. Laying on top of me, he grabbed both sides of my face in between his hands and held it firmly as he began thrusting into me. His eyes never left mine as his hips rolled into me, and I watched in ecstasy at the pleasure visible on his face — as I’m sure he was doing to me. Our bodies smacked together in a steady rhythm and the wet sounds filled the room, adding an additional sensation to my arousal.

“I-I’m so sorry, baby.” Grunted Chris through deep thrusts. “It’s — oh fuck — it’s okay Chris.” I replied as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Just please — please tell me you’re mine.” His voice sounded desperate and choppy, most likely caused by a combination of arousal and real distress. His choice of words and the tone at which he said them caused my stomach to do a flip, and I felt my second orgasm approach. Fighting the urge to give into the overwhelming feeling, I reached up and swiped his glistening lip with my thumb. “I’m yours baby, always.” I managed to respond through my cries of pleasure. Chris smiled down at me lazily before burying his face in my neck; leaving sloppy, breathy kisses along its thin skin.

My walls began to pulse and my skin started to feel like it was being lit on fire; both clear signs that I was extremely overstimulated as I was approaching my orgasm. “Shit, gonna cum again.” I blurted out just as I was hit with a tsunami of an orgasm. My legs tightened around his waist and my nails dug into his arms as I fought to keep my head above water, but my mind grew fuzzy as I spewed guttural profanities into the room as I came in waves.

It didn’t take long for Chris’ orgasm to follow, and that was made clear by his throaty grunts and sloppy pace before he stopped entirely; shouting breathless 'I love yous' into my neck as his cock shot its warm fluid deep inside of me. He eventually pulled out, before curling two fingers into me and shoving all of our conjoined juices up to my cervix. His eyes stayed glued to my cunt as he did so, seemingly in awe of the view.

“You’re all mine, and I’m all yours.” He said it so quiet that he might have just been saying it to himself, before he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the crest of my heat; earning a full-body flinch from me.

He came back up to the top of the bed where he laid down beside me, pulling me towards his chest and running a hand up and down my naked back. I felt so secure in his arms — his familiar smell filling my nostrils and calming my mind — that I nearly forgot everything that had happened prior to the past 15 minutes or so. That is, until he spoke.

“So, are we okay?” His voice was tentative, and he was very clearly afraid to hear my answer. I uncurled myself from his body so that I could look up at his lovely face, his desperate eyes scanning my poker face for any sort of hint.

“You will never, ever, speak to me like that again, no matter what.” I kept my voice firm, even when his face immediately relaxed into a grin. “I swear, I won’t baby.” He responded, trying to tuck me back into his chest, but I pushed back slightly. “And, I need you to talk to me about shit you’re going through, Chris. I’m your girlfriend. That’s my job. You need to promise me, you will come to me about anything, and I will do everything I can to help you through it.” He continued to gaze at me, though his wavering eyes and his chewing on his lower lip made it clear that the idea made him anxious. “Promise me, Chris.” I repeated, making it clear how serious I was.

Finally, Chris nodded his head. “I promise, baby. I’ll tell you everything.” I smiled, then, finally feeling secure in our relationship for the first time in weeks. “Then yes, we’re okay.” I responded before planting a soft kiss to his pink lips. “And you and your brothers are going to be okay, too.” His worried expression deepened at the reminder of his conflict with Nick and Matt. “We’ll talk about it more tomorrow once we get some rest, but we can make the tour work. You know, I’ve always wanted to visit Europe.” I watched as his lips began to turn up into a soft smile. “Plus,” I leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I wouldn’t mind being your groupie.”

He dissolved into giggles at that. “But what about your job?” He asked tentatively. I shrugged. “I actually got promoted today. I was gonna tell you earlier, but y’know.” His face fell momentarily. “I got a raise, but more importantly I got more benefits. Including thirty vacation days.” His face lit up once again, and it was almost like I could see the weight lift off of his shoulders before he attacked my face with kisses. “So let’s have another meeting with Laura and your brothers tomorrow and work this all out. I can come, and we can fix this easily together.” Tears welled in his eyes, and he nodded his head before kissing me hard. “I love you, Y/n.”

I curled myself back into his chest and sighed, taking in the feeling of him mindlessly drawing random shapes on my back. This was the Chris that I knew and loved, and I knew that this is who he really was. He wasn’t perfect, but I never expected him to be. Problems come with every relationship, and of course there was never any guarantee, but I had a feeling that this night would vastly change our relationship for the better.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fluff

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justaaveragereader · 2 months ago

Text

Slashtober🔪|| Jennifer’s Body!Yeosang

Pairing: Yeosang x Reader

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: DARK THEME, Dub Con, CNC Manipulative Yeosang, Mean Yeosang, Mentions of Death, Yeosang Is A Killer😬, Choking, Reader Is Put Into A Headlock🤪, Spitting, Name Calling, Humiliation, Dollification, Raw Sex, Degradation, Rough Sex, Oral, This Is Slashtober..You Know What You’re Getting Yourself Into🤪If I Missed Something..Lemme Know👀👀..

A/N: Yall it’s finally time for Slashtober AHHHHH! Im just going to apologize ahead of time for the person I was when I wrote all the fics for Slashtober this year😔, they are all 5.5k+, believe it or not I cut a lot out of this fic otherwise it was going to be a 9.8k+ fic, with that being said let’s have an amazing Slashtober this year👏🏼🖤! Onto slasher Yeosang!

Slashtober 24’ Masterlist

NSFW UNDER CUT MDNI!!!🔞

“Yeosang come on.” You groan out, pulling his wrist. His shyness always killed you, the man was sculpted by the Greek Gods themselves yet Yeosang hid inside his shell constantly.

“This is our first day of college.” You groan, attempting to pull him further on campus. Trying to move him was next to impossible, convinced his feet here one with the concrete.

“What if someone talks to me?” He says nervously, while looking around the campus. Multiple people pass by him chattering amongst each other. Well immersed in college life. This was the lifestyle for you, not for him.

Over the past couple of months it was hard to convince Yeosang to go out, he had originally planned to take a year off after highschool, not even wanting to bother with any type of academics anymore. His parents had burnt him out, the social setting fried him up, and your constant nagging on attending the same school is what grounded him. Highschool had been quite a ride for you both, you both had always stuck to each other. Being the outsiders amongst all odds, none of that mattered as long as he had you, and vice versa. You were born practically attached at the hip, and nothing would change the connection you both had.

Letting out a loud sigh he begins to move his feet, dreading the life he signed up for all because you didn’t want to “be alone” in this chapter of your life. As his feet begin to move your eyes light up. Gripping his wrist you swiftly move towards the buildings dodging all the moving bodies, while you continue to yap his ear off about what classes you both got, Yeosang soaks in his surroundings, a shiver runs down his spine, just as his body breaks out in goosebumps a shoulder bumps Yeosang sending him slightly tumbling back into another body, your hand that was holding him was knocked away.

Your eyes immediately try to find the culprit of the contact you whiz your body around. Vocals warming up to cuss out whoever knocked into you both.

“Way to go San.” A small man says with annoyance underlying his tone, his hands placed on Yeosangs shoulders to help steady his balance.

“You alright man?” San says quickly panicking, hands flying in multiple directions, glancing over Yeosang to make sure he has no injuries. Wooyoung rolls his eyes, gripping Yeosangs shoulders tighter, pulling him closer to his body. His warm breath tickling Yeosangs ear.

“I think he’s fine, after all I did catch him.” Wooyoung says with a hint of teasing underlying his tone. Lightly shoving Wooyoung back, San steps in front of you, broad back facing you while he scans over Yeosang, lightly grasping him like he’s made of the most precious glass. His warm hands brushing his hair out of his face, exposing the birthmark by his eye. Sans jaw drops slightly, his eyes grow in size.

“How cool!” He says bringing his face closer to Yeosangs birthmark, wanting to inspect it further. San never knew the meaning of personal space. You slightly shove San to the best of your abilities away from your best friend, barely moving, he looks in your direction. Being shell shocked at the fact you put your hands on him.

“Who the hell do you think you are?! Get your hands away from him! You don’t go around touching people you don’t know. On top of that how rude of you bump into us. You got eyes, do they work though?!” You shout, as you shove off Wooyoungs hands from Yeosangs shoulders.

“And you!” You shout even louder, pointing a finger in Woos face, as you grip Yeosangs wrist snatching him out of his grasp.

“Who in the entire fuck are you?! You caught him my ass, your big boulder shoulder friend here knocked him into you. You didn’t catch him.” You shout in his face, his hands still in the air where Yeosangs shoulders were just seconds ago. You smack his hands down to his sides.

All San could do was watch with admiration in his eyes, never had he seen someone as fiery as Hongjoong in quite a while. His eyes followed your every moment, all the yelling you were doing was being drowned out, the twinkle in his eyes lighting with every finger you pointed in Wooyoungs direction. You poking his chest brought him back to reality.

“And you, all in my bestfriends personal space! What you got rocks for brains up there?!” Cracking a smile he grips your finger in his hand, warm palms engulfing it. He shakes your finger poking his chest. A radiant smile breaks out on his face, warming your hearts lightly. Face still stone cold you look at him with daggers in your eyes..

“Hello I’m San.” He says full of glee. Like you hadn’t been cursing him and his flirtatious friend out for the past five minutes. Snatching your hand back, you wipe your palms on your pants. Side eyeing his friend who was clearly looking at Yeosang like he was a hunger deprived animal. You step back, guarding Yeosangs frame. San beams his smile, stepping to the side, he waves his hand once more.

“Hi! I’m San! Nice to meet you!” He speaks to Yeosang, Yeosang gives him a tight lip smile, raising his hand quickly, barely waving before dropping it.

“And this here..” San says pulling Wooyoung in a bone crushing side hug.

“Is Wooyoung!” He says while patting Woos shoulders knocking him slightly forward.

“Jung Wooyoung at your service.” He says winking at Yeosang reaching his hand out, attempting to shake Yeosangs hand. Slapping his hand away, you push Yeo back slightly, not wanting him to get any closer to Yeosang.

“Listen here San, take you and your flirty feral friend over here out of my sight.” You grit out.

“Heading into the main building?” San questions with hearts in his eyes, your snappy tone fell on his deaf ears. All he heard was you say his name and his heart practically imploded on itself

“If so, that's where we are heading! We could walk as a group!” San crushes your side while Woo crushes Yeosangs side. Forming one line, San grabs your wrist pulling you and Yeo towards the main entrance. As you all fall into an assembly line of movement, Wooyoung blows lightly on Yeosangs ear, startling him, grabbing Yeosangs sweaty hand, he leans into his ear once more.

“You’re pretty and skittish, I like that in a person.” He whispers, blowing on his ear once more. A small squeak leading into a laugh fills Yeosangs ear. Your hand grips Yeosangs wrist tighter, pulling him closer to your body. As San continues to lead you all into the main entrance never does he stop talking, with each step joy fills his tone. A warmth spreads through your body at his actions, still on the fence you let him lead, hesitantly following him through the doors. Only if you had known then that the friendship that would bloom between you all would end up to their demise.

“How are you feeling?” You ask Yeosang, your palm covers his forehead, face sunken in, sweat covering his whole body. He shivers with each breath he takes. Letting out a wet cough he looks up at you, lips cracked, dehydration and lack of sleep warps him into a quivering mess.

“I think I’m going to die.” Yeosang whispers out, deep voice cracking in pain. Letting out a small groan he tries to cave in further on himself, pushing himself further in the fetal position.

“Should we take him to go see someone?” You ask distressed, your eyes shoot all over Yeosang. You had never seen him this sick before. Your stomach doubles over in worry, uneasiness filling your veins as you stand up grabbing his jacket and shoes. San grabs your arm, stopping your frantic actions.

“He will be fine, he probably has the flu.” San says, a small smile creeping on his face. His effort to reassure you falls short. As you both had grown closer the underlying jealousy Yeo and San felt for each other was hard not to notice. The tension between the two could suffocate anyone within a 50 mile radius.

“The flu? Look at him San, I’ve never seen him this bad before.” You reply, clearly on edge. Hushing you San brings you into a small hug.

“If he’s like this tomorrow, I say we take him to the doctor, as for right now I think we should at least give it 24 hours, his sickness came out of nowhere.”

Cracking a dry lipped smile, letting out a small whistle which breaks into a coughing fit.

“It’s almost like that’s how sickness works San.”

Rolling his eyes, San gets ready to rebuttal back to Yeo but is stopped by you placing your hand on his chest.

“I’ll call Wooyoung, and he can come babysit you.” San says, tone laced with sarcasm. Before Yeosang can respond his stomach lets out a loud growl, doubling over in pain, biting his lip he lets out a small groan. Before you can shoot to his side, San grabs your wrist holding you back. His lips graze your ear..

“He will be fine…Woo will be here shortly so he can take care of him.” Biting your lip you look over Yeo once more, grabbing him some more pain meds, placing them down beside his water. You brush your hands through his damp hair.

“Will you be alright..?” You whisper kindly to him.

“Of course. These could be growing pains.” He says with a chuckle, letting out a small laugh, brushing your hands through his hair once more you place a kiss on his forehead. Sans nostrils flare, one thing no one would ever break is your and Yeosangs bond. Two flames in the night, even though one always burned brighter than the other. You place your hand on his forehead once more, gathering your things along with San, you make way to head out before looking over your shoulder once more, against your better judgment you leave, letting the aching sound of the door close behind you. San nudges your shoulder lightly with his own, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Hey…” he says in a small voice, giving your hand a squeeze.

“He will be okay, Woo will be over shortly.” Biting your lip, you try your best to gather a smile to send him, nerves of sickly Yeosang still cloud your mind. Nodding you both make your way to the library, Yeosang will be fine right..? Right. If only you had known that Yeo wasn’t the one in danger.

“Hey Yeo! I’m here!” Wooyoung gleefully announces. Taking his shoes off at the entryway of the room. Holding his backpack strap with a big smile on his face.

“San told me you weren’t feeling well. Don't worry, I made some soup. Guaranteed to heal you!” Looking up from the floor with the bowl in his hand. He looks around, the lights are off, the tv casts a shadow on the wall, such little light barely illuminating the small dark room. Taking a step forward he calls out for Yeosang again, with no response. Taking his phone out, he rereads Sans text messages, making sure that Yeosang was left at his dorm. Just as he’s beginning to message San, he feels a heavy presence in the room. It's like boulders have fallen on his chest, his knees slightly buckle. Dropping the bowl of soup, the liquid pours all over the floor, dampening the area around Woo, falling completely to the floor, gasping for air. His eyes fill with tears, struggling to breath, he attempts to crawl back out the door. Through blurry vision he sees an object blocking the door. Reaching his hands up he grasps Yeosangs pants, twisting them tightly, with pleading eyes he looks up, face turning a purple and blue hue.

“Look at you…” Yeosang coos through a sultry tone. Bending down so he’s eye to eye level with Woo, he traces the features of his face softly before grabbing a fistful of his hair. Fear pulsing through Wooyoungs veins, his choked sobs ring out though the room, the tv buzz adding onto the leery tension.

“Pretty and helpless.” Yeosang groans out, bringing his soft lips to Wooyoungs ear.

“I like that in a person.” He grits, a choked sob leaves Woos throat once more, his drowned out scream was all that was heard behind the dorm room labeled 1117 before silence took over.

“Have you heard from Woo?” You say into the phone stuffing your bag full of papers, running around like a chicken with your head cut off. Cramming as much as you can into your bag. With finals right around the corner, Yeosangs sickly experience, and Sans clinginess. Your plate was overloading with stress.

“Nope, not at all. He never even came the night you said he would.” He says with a frown on his face, you let out a small defeated sign. Rubbing your temples. Yeosang lets out a small gasp startling you.

“What's wrong?!” You practically yell through the phone, heart dropping to your stomach.”

“I’m a literal God!” Yeosang says in the most nonchalant tone you’ve ever heard. You let out a small hum, clearly annoyed at Yeosangs sudden change in behavior. Wooyoung was possibly missing, no one had heard from him in a couple of days. Yet here was Yeosang parading around like he was hot shit. A full one eighty from his normal demeanor.

“Yeo can we not do this right now?” You say with the phone held up by your shoulder, stuffing what felt like endless amounts of notes into your backpack.

“No I don’t think you understand, I am literally a God, you should see it.” He says through a breathless voice, almost in a moan.

“Yeo I’m a bit busy right now, where the fuck did I put those papers!” You slightly shout.

“Plans?”

“Yes, I have a study date with San..” you trail off at the end of your sentence, checking your bag once over again making sure you had everything you needed.

“Date? You have a date with San.”

“Are you asking me..or telling me..?” You say while your fingers pinch the area above your eyebrows. With a billion things on your plate, Yeosangs new attitude was adding onto it.

“Well I guess have a good time…” trailing off, the awkwardness in the conversation was so thick it felt almost taboo, forbidden.

“Umm..okay. I still have to go.” You huff out, trying not to let the annoyance seep through your words. Cutting the phone conversation short, you hang up. It just seemed like everything changed with Yeosang. He was this quiet, overly shy boy you had grown up with, attached at the hip with, and now? It feels like you barely know who he is.

Opening the lighter he had taken from Hongjoong pockets the night he caught him in the art room alone, flicking it open the flame ignited. The blue base of the flame catches his eye. Sticking his tongue out he lets the heat engulf the tip of his tongue, no ounce of pain in sight. Letting out a small squeal of excitement he closes the top to the lighter. The new found power goes immediately to his head. Deciding to go pay San a visit before you two could have your meetup.

You look down at your phone, San thumbs up your message when you let him know you are close to being at the pool house. On Tuesdays he had swim meet, deciding to stay behind to get some extra practice. You both decided to meet up and head to the library from there together.

“Hey San..I’m here!” You announce stepping into the pool area, clutching your bag strap with extra pep in your step as you walk closer before coming to a complete stop. The pool was a crimson color, the smell of chlorine, and iron filled your nose. Your body does a noticeable shiver, before you can step forward a gnawing feeling in your stomach stops you.

“San!” You call out, refusing to move from your spot. Your feet move before your body can comprehend what’s going on. Your back brushes the knob of the door, fully turning around to book it out of there. You frantically pull out your phone, dialing San when you hear his phone go off in the room you are in. Deciding to leave you hear a soft splash. Your hand frozen on the knob of the door, your brain is fighting your heart. Your brain is telling you to leave, be logical, that your fight or flight isn’t kicking in for nothing, while your heart tells you to turn around that it could be your San swimming in the pool playing a joke on you.

“Go on…turn around.” A timber voice whispers in your ear. Your body freezes in place, your eyes fill with tears. Your mascara smudging slightly, you turn your head to the side, watching as Sans phone floats at the top of the water, the small waves carrying the phone around the top. You feel a cold breath on your neck. Pushing the door you book it out of the building, your feet fuel your body, taking you the one place you always feel safe. Yeosangs dorm.

Your hands fly to your keys grabbing the spare key he had given you, with trembling hands, and eyes filled with tears you go to unlock his door, just as the door flies open you fall forward into his chest. Clutching the material of his damp shirt, you let out a choked sob. His cool hands come to hold the back of your shirt, removing the bag off of your arm, letting it smack the floor with a loud thud.

“Yeo-Yeo…San he wasn’t in the swimming pool bu-but..” you are cut off by Yeosang shushing you, grabbing you tighter. Your head on his chest, usually it was so warm but his chest is freezing cold, the damp material aiding in the temperate. You listen closely, as his heartbeat sounded like an angel playing the harp, it always has such a steady rhythm to it, like it was tuned by God himself but you heard nothing. It was almost like he was hollowed out. The same goosebumps you felt in the pool area, the uneasiness is the same feeling you have now. Your stomach is in a knot, biting your lip you don’t dare to look up at the man before you. Wanting to put space between both of you, you push him back slightly, eyes glued to the ground. The wet spot around Yeosangs feet make you wanna hurl.

“You're not my Yeosang are you?” You whisper quietly, the security you once had felt with him was slowly dying. Letting out a loud laugh he pulls a lighter from his pocket, pulling a cigarette from thin air, he lights it huffing in the smoke. Letting the smoke invade his lungs, letting out the smoke, blowing it from his nostrils. Pink moist tongue flickering over his bottom lip, a smile graced his face. The devil truly dressed as an angel.

“Now what gave you that idea?” He says matter of factly. Taking the lit cigarette and putting it out on his tongue. An even deeper smile gracing his face, a smile that could fool any man or woman. Your eyes grow large at the sight in front of you. Your hands come up to slap the cigarette out of his hand, the burn mark on his tongue glowing with redness.

“What is wrong with you?!” You shout.

His eyes that once shone with such light, dimmed to a dark room. This was not your Yeosang, nor who you knew at all.

“You know..” he says, taking small, slow steps towards you. Caging you in like you were a helpless animal who got caught in a weevable web. His slow but precise movements reminded you of a predator. Cold fingers coming out to dance along your jaw.

“I can count on my hands how many times you saying my name has brought me much joy..” he groans out, letting a smile creep on his face.

“I also could probably count on Hongjoongs hands, Wooyoungs hands, and Sans hands as well.”

Your heart falls into your stomach. Hongjoong the art major that had suddenly vanished out of thin air, assuming he had dropped out. As he steps closer you get closer to the door, with a flick of his wrist it locks. The temperature in the room changes drastically, it feels like winter has blown through the room. Skin breaking out in goosebumps, your eyes remain locked on Yeosangs dead eyes.

“What did you do to Woo? What did you to do San?” You semi shout, immediately shushing you he steps closer. His cold body radiating as much coolness as it can.

“Use that pretty head of yours.” He whispers into your ear, sounding like the voice in the swim area. Your eyes refuse to look at him locking on to the bag that belonged to San sitting alone in the corner of Yeosangs dorm, right next to Wooyoungs wallet.

Your eyes begin to swell with tears, shaky hands come up to lightly push Yeosang, barely moving an inch his cold hands come to rest on your waist. Your hands ball into fist pushing him harder than before. With his feet cemented in the ground he barely moves once again. Your tears pour over, streaming down your face a small choked sobbed leaves your throat.

“I hate you…I promise I do.” You say through shedded tears. Your heart breaks with each shove you give him. Knowing this isn’t your Yeosang, that this…this…thing was responsible for the disappearance of Hongjoong, Woo, and San.

“Get away from me.” You sob, trying to shove him harder, his hands steady at your waist while continuing to sob and break down. Your sorrow fills the air, and fueling Yeosangs need for you.

“Hey hey hey…” he whispers, pulling your body close to his, palming your head so you would place it across his chest.

“I’m sorry…” he whispers while kissing the top of your head. Arms wrapping around your body, so easily you fall victim to his siren-like voice. Your head immediately falls against his chest, arms tired of shoving and pushing him.

“You could have anyone you want Yeosang, why them? Why me? How could you do this to me.?” You say above a whisper. Head flat against his cold, beatless chest. His hand comes to brush your lower back, providing you comfort before he cocks his head back, head butting you with ease. Your body knocking out instanously, slumping against the floor. Letting out a small groan of satisfaction, he grabs you from the floor placing you onto his mattress.

Cracking his neck before he walks over to his bathroom to grab some supplies to clean you up. An empty face with each movement, yet on the inside he’s beaming with excitement. He can’t wait to dress you up, after all you are his doll.

“Yeo-Yeosang you don’t ha-.” Your sentence gets cut off by quickly wrapping a hand around your throat, the pressure making you let out a small gasp. He moved with such precision you didn’t even have time to process what kind of predicament you were exactly in.

“Good dolls don’t talk, they just act and do as they are told. Okay?” He says almost mockingly. All common sense leaves your mind, you are on the equivalent of being brain dead. Nodding your head slowly, your movements are restricted as his hand still sits on your throat. Removing his hand, you notice his veins are bulging, practically ripping from under his smooth skin.

“Look at you..” he coos, taking a step back to admire the work he has done. Your skin flawlessly smooth due to the foundation, eyes wide and doe like. His eyes twinkle with amazement, your dress that poofs at your mid section, cinching off your waist. Your breathing picks up pace, he’s studying your every move, you are trapped in a lion's den during feeding time.

Your eyes are locked into his face, refusing to look elsewhere. Hands nearly folded in your lap, back stiff, and sitting up right, just the way he wants his perfect doll. Placing the makeup brushes down, his empty eyes study you. Every breath you take, he watches as your chest rises and falls. Each time you blink he watches as your long eyelashes brush against your eyelids, the dried mascara not smudging on the skin. Biting his lip he can’t help but contain his smile. Your obedience fed his hunger.

“Look at my beautiful doll…” he answers to himself, eyes void of any light yet they speak more words than his mouth ever could. Coming close he tugs on one of the small bows on the shoulders of the dress, rubbing the soft material between his fingers. The chill that wafts off his body smacks you in the face full force.

Squishing your cheeks together, you look up at him with big eyes. The lovable and caring Yeosang was no more. His eyes twinkled with a dark lust. How could one not get lost in his eyes, the man you once knew was completely gone.

Lowering his head, nose brushing against your pulse. The soft fabric of the dress tickles his nose. He lets out a small groan. His hand that was still currently squishing your cheeks trembles slightly, grip faltering only for a second.

“You smell..” he takes another deep whiff of your scent in..

“So delicious, almost like I could eat you up.” He finishes his sentence off with a low growl. Sharp nails continue to pinch into your skin. Your eyes never leave the side of his face that’s currently being occupied by your neck.

“Wanna know a little secret?” He says, ending with a snicker.

“This pretty dress…” running his hands softly over the fabric that layered with ruffles.

“San actually bought you this dress.” Your heart comes to a screeching halt, tears swelling in your eyes. A small laugh leaves his mouth, face shriveled up in anger you pucker your lips and spit at him, the salvia hitting the side of his face. Your eyes grow big, your hand slowly coming up to cover your mouth in shock, smudging the lipstick as so. Not believing you just spit at him. Letting out a loud, breathy moan. He grabs his hard on that’s straining through his pants.

Wiping the spit off he puts some of it on his thumb sucking the warm liquid.

“Should’ve seen his face he cried out for you, ya know? His last thoughts were of you.” Ending his sentence with a snarl, his hand shooting out to grab your face. The veins are practically popping out of his skin, the red birthmark by his eye is glowing red. Yeosang is seething with the need to put you in your place once more.

“You know I don’t know why you let him come between us..” he whispers, face getting closer to yours. His eyes bore into yours snatching your soul and holding it within the palm of his hands. You were dancing in a circle with the devil. A heat rushes to your core, with every word he speaks it's almost as if you are diving head first into temptation.

“Then in the same breath I can almost say I see why he cried out for you..a sweet thing like you? Oh my…” his hands rested on your knees, the cool sensation of his skin mixing with your warmth made you break out into goosebumps.

“The jealousy he must’ve felt seeing how close we are…I wonder how many times he had your pretty ass bent over for him.” Voice like velvet yet the filthy words that were leaving his mouth were anything but silky.

“Always made me wonder if you liked it rough or soft…or maybe in between?” Bringing his face closer to yours his cool hands begin to hike under your dress. Your eye makeup creases as your eyes grow bigger with size, a heat spreads across your chest clearly embarrassed by how turned on you were by him mocking you and San. That guilty feeling you once had flees your body.

“Did you spit on his cock the way you spit on me?” He whispers against your lips, the cool plushness brushing against your lipstick, making your breath hitch. A small whimper leaves your throat. Refusing to break eye contact with him you continue to stare off into the empty pools of his eyes, doing laps in them.

“I’m not going to lie…I was almost a bit jealous, I can’t imagine having this wet of a cunt wrapped around anyone else’s cock but my own.” Cold fingers dance along the outside of your tights, pushing his fingers into the material he can feel the wetness of your cunt soak through the multiple layers of clothing you're wearing. Rubbing his thumb over your wet lips pussy lips, letting his thumb soak with your slick arousal, pushing further into the fabric letting the material get caught between your lips, his cool thumb brushes your clit, making your eyes slightly flutter.

“If you say pretty please, I might just give your little cunt some attention.” Yeosang coos at you, slapping your clothed cunt over, and over. Working your body up til it was on edge, his eyes never lost sight of you, watching your body twitch and move with each slap, letting his sharp nail cut the fabric of your tights so he had full access to your pussy. He pushes a thumb right against your throbbing clit, your skin heated with each slap making the skin on your cunt slightly swell.

Biting your lip you divert your eyes to the floor, not wanting to look at him as you beg for him to give you what you want. Standing back he rids himself of every piece of clothing, making his way slowly towards your fully dressed body. Pulling your dress down so your breast pops out. Letting out a breathy sigh, lowering himself he nips at the tender skin on your chest. Letting out a small mewl you can’t help but fist the sheets below you. Trying to remain as perfectly still you can’t help but stir in pleasure. His heavy cock brushing your thighs comes to a slow hault. Engulfing his hands with your left breast, he kneads it, letting his finger tips glaze over your perked up nipple. You bite your inner cheek at the sensation, more of your arousal leaves your body. Your white tights sticking heavily to your wet lips. Flipping your dress up he thumbs at your pulsating clit.

The small amount of attention on it has you letting out a breathy moan, legs twitching in need squishing his fingers together and slowly pulling them apart to watch your arousal spread before popping them in his mouth.

“Fuckkk” he sighs out at the taste of you, pushing your body back, flipping your dress up so your covered lower half was to his sight, stretching the hole he had made into your tights a bit bigger. Gripping his cock he slides it between your pussy lips, coating it in your warm juices before sliding in slowly, with each inch he gives you, the air is being knocked out of your lungs. Your cunt stretches to accommodate his size. His strokes start out slow, and deep. Letting you feel each vein that danced along his cock, choking on your saliva, your hands fist the sheets below you. Trying to grip onto reality as swiftly as possible, it’s almost like he has you underneath his own spell.

“Should’ve seen the way he was begging.” He said through a moan, continuing to deep stroke into your cunt. Your juices spread between your thighs as your back arches off of the bed.

“It was so pathetic.” He grits out.

“Now look, his girl is crying on my cock. Am I fucking your good baby?” Biting his lip, he brings his hips back, slamming them into you again. Your nails scratching down his bare chest.

“Sh-shut up.” You say in a breathless moan. With each stroke of his hips you feel the wind being knocked out of you. Your eyes filled with warm tears that are streaming down your face, you feel so dirty, so disgusting like this was all wrong but if sin was so bad, why does it feel so right?

“Or what?” He questions before letting your throat go. Thumb hooked in your mouth, soft lips wrapping around his cold thumb. Your immediate obedience sets him off. Pulling his thumb from your mouth he flips you over. Pulling your hips so your ass is arched in the air. The ruffles from the baby doll dress hike up, leaving the hole in your tights exposing your wet cunt to him. Snaking an arm under your left breast he grips your throat from the underside. Pushing his throbbing cock back into you, immediately hitting your spongy spot with the new position. Letting out a loud gasp your head begins to fall forward, squeezing your neck he pulls out before slamming you back on his cock. A loud cry leaving your throat, eyes immediately rolling back.

“Fuc-fuck! Yeosang please.” You cry out, letting his body weight on top of you, he continues to rag doll you up and down his cock. Your hands fly to his strong hand around your throat. Mouth agape as he continues to slide in between your warm, wet sticky walls.

“Tell me you love this dick.” He groans into your ear, with a big smile right across his lips. His other hand comes down to crack the meat of your ass watching it jiggle with each movement. Letting out a loud sob, you begin to drool on his arm, his thick cool cock contrasting your warm wet walls was so blissful, repeatedly he kept pushing your spot, which each hike up the bed your hands squeezed tighter around his arm. Fully wrapping you in a headlock, he drops even more of his body weight on top of you. Practically laying flat against your back.

“I love it Yeosang!” You cry out, drool running down his cool forearm. The speed in his hips picks up, his wet pelvis slamming against the meat of your ass, hiking your body up the bed with each stroke. The headboard of the bed slamming against the wall leaving indentations on it.

“You love this dick?”

“Yes!”

“Say it.” Locking his arm around your neck tighter, he begins to cut off some of the air flow. Your head begins to buzz with delight, toes curling as you are on the brink of an orgasm.

“I fucking love your dick Yeosang.” You practically scream out.

Putting you in a full head lock, he snatches you off the bed pushing your body against the door. Nipples coming into contact with the cool surface causing them to pebble up. Putting his arm back around your throat placing you in a headlock once more. His weight crushes you against the door, his other hand aids in pumping you up and down his cock. Your nails leave crescent like marks in his skin, small red marks litter random areas all over him.

“Yeaaa you love this dick. I know you do.” He grunts into your ear. Letting his arm loosen up, he wraps a hand around your throat, tilting your head back so he can kiss you. Both of your tongues dance in a heated session. Your drool is getting all over his chin. Teeth clink against each other as the fight for dominance is at an all time high. His hips pick up speed making you drop your jaw and let out a breathy moan into his mouth. Your lipstick smears all over his skin.

“Tell me you love it.” He groans into your mouth, hot breath being exchanged between you both. Your eyes flood with need, with desire, with want.

“I fucking love it Yeosang.” You pant into his mouth, his hand around your throat squeezes a bit tighter. You both lock eyes, the squelching noise from him sliding in and out of your cunt clouds the room. Your toes begin to curl once more.

“You gonna to be a good doll and take it?” His empty eyes continue to set a flame to yours. As your own orgasm is on the brink your toes begin to curl even harder. Your eyes begin to flutter, trying your best to remain focused on his gaze. You let out a small squeak when he grabs your throat tighter, practically lifting you off the ground. Pushing you harder against the door both his hands come up to your breast. Using them as an anchor to hike you up and down kiss throbbing member. Your feet are barely on the ground, your hands cover his own that are kneading your breast with each stroke he gives you.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You chant religiously like a prayer that Yeosang will answer to. Your foundation leaves streaks against the door due to your face being squished against the cool wood. Your eyes begin to roll back, nails cutting into the material on the door, your jaw unhinges and with one final stroke you are soaking his lower belly with your juices. Squirting so hard it nearly pushes his cock out of you, letting out a soaring scream of Yeosangs name, he continues to plow through your juices letting them soak his skin with the slick fluid. His hips slow in speed making sure to hit into you even deeper. His slow strokes are nearing the edge for him. Hands soon firmly grasped around your breast. Coming down from your high you blink the tears out of your eyes, pressing your head against the wood. He slowly lets you slide down the door til your feet hit the ground. Slowly easing his member out of your swollen pussy, he kneels down, hiking your leg up. Head fully under your dress, running his nose over your swollen and red clit. He flicks his tongue collecting the juices that run down your plush thighs. Letting out a small, satisfying groan at your juices dancing on his tongue. You try to push his head away with your hand, snatching your hand and pinning it to the door, he collects some of your juices again. Standing up, he tilts your head back spitting the liquid on your mouth, while you let the flavor of you both dance on your tongue he pushes his wet cock between your thighs, the head of his member brushing against your clit making you whimper. Grabbing your hand he brings it to his stiff cock, making him groan when you wrap your warm hand around him.

“Be a good girl and make daddy cum. If you do it right, I may just let you live.” He sing songs in your ear. What he says goes in one ear, and out the other. Your post orgasm brain is straight mush. Dropping to your knees you open your mouth, flattening your tongue out for him. Sliding his wet cock onto your warm tongue, coating it in salvia. He pets the top of your head before bending down, back arching outwards.

“Wanna know a secret?” He whispers, pulling you off his cock so he can brush his lips flat against your lips. Your eyes bore up at him, mascara smudged, lipstick all over your face, foundation coming off in patches. Running a thumb over your cheek he hooks two fingers into the bottom of your mouth prying open your jaw.

“This was the same exact sight San saw before I killed him.” He whispers on your lips before breaking out into an eerie smile. Head butting you once more, body immediately thumping to the floor. That eerie smile never leaves his face. Yeosang was ready to have his final meal of the day, you.

Taglist: @mingisprincesss @sanhwalvr @walkingtravesty97 @crazylittlebisexual @sheilogreen @ateezmakesmehappy @miyaluvvsyou @wisejudgedragonhairdo @star-wingz @ririnnie @ihaveaproblem98 @raindropsondragons @hongjoongsprincess @radskaddattle @suzukialice16 @a-tiny-thing @arilevenatz @multistanisms @demonlineswhore @dij-ology @yyaurii @sousydive @itza-meee @ana-stasssiaaa @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @yunyunrin @jjoongstar @kyeos4ng @peach-bearies @bitchwhytho @spooo00oky @hey-im-charisma @tearfulsparks78 @metalheadatiny @apriecotte @aurorajoye @lola-horore-553 @ayoo-bangtan @acetruepunk @tajannah-price1 @seungminsfavoritegirlll

Divider and Gif @justaaveragereader

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#Slashtober 2024 #slasher!ateez #dom!ateez smut #dom!ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez fantasy au #kang yeosang smut #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang x reader #yeosang smut #ateez imagines #ateez hard thoughts #Ateez one shot #ateez scenarios

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rowdyluv · 6 months ago

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𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 - 𝐥𝐡𝟒𝟑

summary: requested by @toasttt11 : “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that makes me want to treat them like they’re royalty, like they do” in which luke yaps out about his girl to jack, luke hasn’t told his girl exactly how much he likes her, jack takes matters into his own hands.

warnings: use of y/n, couple uses of profanity, really it’s just luke being a massive s!mp for his girl so fluff fluff fluff, jack meddling (again)

word count: 2.25k

notes: thank you toast for this prompt request I had a lot of writing this!!! i didn’t think i would finish it so quickly but the tournament i was supposed to ref got cancelled so im stuck in a hotel with nothing to do but read and write… hopefully its good because i already wrote a 6 year in the future pt 2

As Luke slid the key into the lock, a warm, fuzzy feeling filled him up like a cup of his favorite grandma’s homemade hot chocolate after a long day of playing on the outdoor rink as a kid. He had just returned home from his date with a girl he had become absolutely smitten with. Her name was y/n, and she had this alluring way about her that made him feel as if he was walking on the clouds. It was in the way she laughed, how she would talk about her family, it reminded Luke of the way he talked about his family, it was the way she smiled when she talked about her favorite things. To Luke everything about her was perfect.

And now, here he was, back at his shared apartment with his middle older brother, grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. Jack, had spotted him as he was about to enter the apartment through the windows and was gingerly waiting to ask him what had him so smiley.

Luke routinely wears this tight lip, apprehensive smile but after being around her or simply just the thought of her was enough to bring out his genuine smile. “Who or what has you so giddy? You look like a child who was just told they were given unlimited access to a toy store for the next year.” Jack questioned. Scampering around their small living room to stay right on his younger brother’s heels. Attempting to insure he didn’t miss Luke’s answer. Luke didn't even need to think about it before he replied, "I’ve been seeing someone...and let’s say, if someone would have asked me what I wanted them to put together in a female, she is it. Wholly everything." He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in for Jack. Luke’s heart was still beating rapidly even after being away from y/n for half an hour now. He was truly down bad.

Jack's eyebrows raised, his mouth agape. Not believing what he just heard quite yet, "Wait, you mean you're in a relationship with someone?" He asked, trying to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. Luke shook his head no, feeling a little self-conscious suddenly. Jack narrowed his eyebrows as if to question him why no, but didn’t just yet. Sometimes dating exclusively just doesn’t happen. "And this girl, she's...she's really special?" He prodded. Luke nodded again only a yes this time, and more confidently. "Yeah, Jack. Y/n is really special. I don't think I've ever met another girl that makes me want to treat her like she's royalty all the time, like she does." He paused, letting the words hang in the air. "I think...I think I might be falling in love with her." The silence that followed was deafening. Jack beginning to think Luke just might be serious.

Jack looked at Luke, attempting to gauge if he was serious or if he was just being his typical sarcastic self. But when he studied Luke’s eyes and noticed the sincerity shining through and the emotions held in each word he spoke that this definitely was not a joke. There was no way this was just another one of Luke's short flops either. He was serious about this girl.

For a short lived moment, Jack felt a pang of jealousy that the youngest was seemingly finding himself in a serious relationship. Only he quickly reminded himself that it wasn't like he was necessarily someone who had truly went out and tried to find himself someone special either. It also wasn't like Luke had ever been the kind to want anything that was deemed as just a good time or an easy lay. However, he also wasn’t one to talk about love, girlfriends, and all that over the top mushy stuff. Those topics were more of Quinn’s realm of interest. Jack had never thought he'd hear any of this from his younger brother. At least he didn’t expect it fresh out of his rookie year when women throw themselves at him.

Luke shifted uncomfortably, moving to sit on the couch next to Jack, emptying out his pockets onto the table, all while being under Jack's intense studying stare. "What?" He asked, not entirely sure how to react to his brother's silence. “So, you want to treat her like royalty?” Jack reiterated Luke’s previous comment. Luke nodded, feeling the heat in his cheeks intensify. Luke dropped his face into his hand for a few moments thinking how he’s going to approach his response before he spoke.

Jack took his chance and grabbed Luke’s phone. He knew his brother all toowell. He knew he would likely never be brave enough to spill out whatever confession he is about word vomit to him out again, let alone to y/n. He quickly shot off a text to her about it being from Jack, and that he was calling her but needed her to listen to the conversation, not talk to him unless he talks to her. Does Jack feel bad for tricking his baby brother and this girl? Oh definitely. But he thinks it will help him, he hopes it will at least. He’s grateful that Luke even mentioned her name.

“Yes I do want to treat her right. I don’t know her past relationships, and I’m not sure that they even matter? If it is her and I, I hope she never thinks of him or them again. I want to give her every reason to forget they ever even existed. I want to make her world be an entirely different place than it is now. Make it different. Better. Because she deserves it. So. Yeah Jack, yes, I want to be the guy who opens the door for her, who treats her like she's the most important person in the room, shit the most important person in this world. I want to make her feel special, you know?" He shrugged, looking up for the first time before meeting his brother's gaze. Thank goodness, Jack had the phone discreetly placed. Luke could continue his rambling which Jack knew by the way his eyes were glassed and his pupils dilated so large, “Go ahead, continue talking about her. You’ve stayed quiet about her for a while apparently, let’s hear it.” Jack wasn’t that interested or invested in Luke’s overtly smitten relationship but he was happy seeing his baby brother so happy.

Luke let out a small laugh, feeling the warmth spread from his chest to his fingertips. "Y/n is amazing, Jack. She's funny, and so damn smart, I am talking mom smart. I have never met anyone else as smart as mom until her, and...and the best part, get this she had no idea who I was before I introduced myself. I was just Luke to her, I wasn’t Luke Hughes, New Jersey Devil. I was just Luke again. I didn’t have to overcome some preconceived idea she already had of me. I only had to worry about the one she would form of me when we first met. She knows now that I play for the Devils, I wanted to be open about it but it was so nice to meet with out having to fight for showing someone that I am more than hockey. So for her, although it has only been a few true dates and a couple times seeing each other I want to show her that to me, she's as important as a princess." Luke paused, there was a faraway look in his eyes, as if he was imagining the moments of treating her, loving her. "She hates being paid for, but I want to give her everything she desires, needs, I don’t want to do it because I’m fortunate enough to be able to. I want to because she never puts herself first. If she’ll be with me, one day she’ll be the first in my universe.” Luke turned his to look at his older brother, hoping that he was getting through to him. He sure was. Jack was nothing short of wonderstruck.

"She's a lucky girl, you know that? To have someone like you who genuinely cares for her, who sees beyond the superficial layers and goes deep, who wants to make her feel so special." Luke nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "No. You’re wrong. I am the lucky one. I just hope she knows how I feel. I don't want to mess this up." Jack reached over and pulled Luke into him by the shoulder, a normal gesture of affection from the older brother. "Just be you, little bro. That's all you can do, seems it already worked for you. Right? Mr. Just Luke. Question is though, have you even began to tell her any of this?” Jack asked him possibly the most important question of the entire conversation.

Luke paused for a moment, his expression turning down from the previous glowing high. "Not yet. Us Hughes boys do have a track record of doing or saying dumb shit too early. I don't want to put any pressure on her to reciprocate the same feelings. I just want her to know that she makes me happy, that she's special to me. But I want her to feel it, see it in my actions, without having to say it." He sighed, resting his head back against the couch. "But I know I should tell her, right?”

Jack flashed him a smile, retracting his his arm from over his shoulders and dropping it over to pat Luke's knee. "Yeah, you should. But you've got this, little bro. You've got a good head on your shoulders, and you're being genuine. She'll see it. And if you're still worried about it, well, I'll always be here to help you. Like now.” Jack revealed that he had stolen Luke’s phone off the coffee table when he had dropped his head earlier in the conversation. Y/n listened silently hearing his verbose words he shared over their time together. Her heart palpitated a few times over things he had said specifically about her. No one had ever talked about her the way Luke did. It made her feel ways she was unsure how to put into words just yet.

A few moments of shared unutterable silence spread across the three of them when Jack had announced that y/n was on the phone and she inevitably had heard Luke’s emotional admiration for her, y/n’s voice finally broke through the speaker of the phone.

"Luke, I'm so glad you told him that. Or well both of us that.. It's just... well, you know... I am just me, a normal person. There’s no need to overplay it silly boy." Her voice was soft, almost shy like it was the night Luke and her me. Probably because Jack was listening, but there was still the hint of that playfulness that Luke had started to love. "I can't even tell you how much it means to me that you see past all of my quirky interests and...” She paused for just a split second “Can I come off speaker phone? Uhm.. I really just want Luke to hear this.” Jack handed Luke his phone with a smug I told you so look plastered on his face. “Hey, it’s just you and I now.” Luke told her, even getting up off couch to allow space between him and his nosey brother. Luke had a smile so big spread across his face. Jack couldn’t help but smile too. His baby brother was growing up on him. Y/n continued, “and most of all I like that you're just Luke for me, and that you felt comfortable enough to still tell me so quickly about your life when you could’ve kept me in the dark for however long you wanted to. You may be this hockey star, but for me you’re just Luke. I mean, I know you're amazing at hockey and all, but that doesn’t define who you are in life. You are so much more. You're funny and sweet and thoughtful, and I just... I just can't help but feel lucky that I get to spend time with you. And I hope you know that." She paused, her voice catching a little, and Luke could swear he could hear her sniffling. "So, um, yeah. I guess what I'm trying to say is... I want you to know that I feel the same way.” Luke’s face kept flushing deeper shades of red it was nearly burgundy by the time y/n was finished talking. He couldn’t form a coherent sentence without stammering entirely over his words. He pulled his phone away from his ear and opened their text thread.

“Can I come to your place? I think we should finish talking in person?”

Luke pressed send and heard her cute giggle through the phone speaker. “Yes. I’ll see you soon.” The two shared their goodbyes before hanging up the phone. “Jack. You’re dead when I get back, but thank you.” Luke said to his brother scurrying around the living room for his shirt he discarded earlier and his sneakers.

Luke grabs his keys and wallet from the bowl in the table by the door. Murmuring a goodbye to Jack and essentially leaps out the door. He has a very little talking he wants to complete and a lot of affection to start giving. Y/N is anticipating his arrival because first thing she plans on doing is nabbing a kiss from the sweetest boy on this planet. Both of them riddled with anticipation to see each other. If they turn out not to be meant for each other, then there is no way soulmates exist. Luke and y/n are two halves apart that become one when close to one another.

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lewistoferrari · 2 months ago

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kyle seducing the cold detached woman who's levels above his station 😔

yeah so i wrote way too much

want

pairing: kyle garrick x fem!reader cw: third person pov, hints to childhood trauma, therapy is mentioned, smut

it doesn’t help that he has a big fat crush on her. and she knows this, but couldn’t give two fucks.

kyle has never had to work this hard to get someone into his bed. he’d barely turn on the charm and would still have them dropping their panties. but this woman in particular, she made him realize it wasn’t going to be easy and he’d have to work for it.

kyle starts giving her flowers with cute little notes attached and she just chucks them into the trash because, “i don’t like roses, garrick. stop sending me flowers.”

kyle does not listen to her at all though. every bouquet he buys gets thrown away, much to his dismay. she’ll never tell him this, but one day she ended up giving a vase of flowers to one of her girlfriends because they were far too pretty to be in someone’s trash bin. eventually, kyle stops sending flowers and steps his game up.

he starts leaving chocolate on her desk, her favorite brands at that. it’s the fancy and expensive kind too.

at first, the chocolate just sits on her desk untouched. she would rather eat a jean jacket than to admit she finds it kind of cute that kyle refuses to give up. her icy exterior begins to dissolve a little when he starts popping up with snacks, jumbo crossword puzzles, and books for her to read.

“i’m still not entertaining whatever you think is going to happen between us, garrick. keep your delusions to yourself,” she says flatly, but thanks him and accepts his gifts anyway.

kyle just laughs and says, “we’ll see.”

his response bothers her for the rest of the day and she can’t figure out why.

her heart softens even more when her birthday arrives and she’s stuck in her office doing paperwork. she’s absolutely miserable about it, until kyle knocks on her door, her words getting stuck in her throat when she sees the cake and balloons he has for her.

“why would you do all of this!?” she asks hotly, once she’s regained her composure. she doesn’t even know why she’s so upset with him in the first place. he’s just being nice.

“because you deserve it, and you shouldn’t have to spend your birthday alone.”

she wants to rage at him some more. she wants to throw him out and tell him to never come back because somehow he’s managed to worm his way into her heart. she wants to kick him in his shin for making her fall for him. but because she can’t bring herself to do any of that, she lets him stay to sing happy birthday to her.

and if kyle’s visits become more frequent after that, she can’t find it in herself to complain. his presence makes her happy.

kyle can be a very persistent man when he needs to be, but he chooses to believe she’ll change her mind about him eventually. she’s been opening up to him more, and he considers that progress.

he remembers the first time he met her. she was a pretty thing with a no nonsense attitude. he knew he was down bad for this woman when he’d come to her defense whenever he heard people calling her a bitch around base.

and today was no different. she was well aware of the names people called her, but she really didn’t give a shit. “it doesn’t hurt me,” she says to kyle, who’s currently holding a recruit by the collar of his shirt.

he’d been within earshot of the little bastard addressing his soon to be sweetheart by several unpleasant names that made his blood boil.

kyle is more than pissed off, especially after she orders him to let the young recruit go. “you hear the names they call you, the things they say. and yet you do fuck all about it,” he snaps before sighing. he’s not mad at her though. he’s just a little frustrated because she won’t so anything about it. he refuses to believe that nothing bothers her.

she stares at kyle in shock. he’s never spoken to her like this before, and she doesn’t like it one bit. so she tells him to get out.

but unfortunately for her, kyle doesn’t budge. “nah,” he says, before taking a seat on the chair in front of her desk. “i think i’ll sit here a little longer. you can finish your work, i won’t bother you.”

she just huffs at him, then picks her pen up and resumes her work.

when she’s done, kyle is still there. he has his earbuds in and he’s laughing quietly at something on his phone. she just knows he’s on tiktok. probably watching some video about a cat. when she finds herself staring too hard and enjoying his laughter just a bit too much, she nudges him under the desk with her foot.

kyle pulls his earbuds out and sits up straight. “you finished, love?”

love?

it’s the first time he’s called her that, and it wrecks her a little bit. i don’t deserve him, she thinks to herself.

she just nods silently in response to his question, not trusting herself to speak and only doing so when kyle offers to walk her to her quarters. if he’s surprised when she says yes, he doesn’t show it. he just ushers her out of the office and down the hallway.

when they arrive at her door, she thanks him. kyle just waves her off and says, “anything for you, sweetheart.”

“stop calling me that,” she huffs. “and stop doing whatever this is.”

she watches as kyle’s brows furrow in confusion. “what is it that you think i’m doing?”

“if you wanted to get into my pants, you could have just asked.” she actually laughs when kyle stares at her in surprise. “and don’t act so shocked, garrick. i’ve known what you wanted since day one.”

“do you?” kyle asks as he steps into her space, watching in amusement as she fumbles to come up with an answer. he knew she would have told him to fuck off when they first met. “if you think sex is all i want, then you’re wrong. i want you.”

she’ll lie about it for the rest of her life if anyone ever asks her how she responded to kyle’s statement. instead of tearing him apart with her words, she gets a little teary eyed, much to her embarrassment.

“you shouldn’t want me,” she whimpers. “i haven’t been very nice to you.”

kyle just shrugs and lets her know that he likes a challenge every now and then. he doesn’t let her respond. he bids her goodnight with a kiss on her forehead, then gently shoves her into her room.

kyle walks her to her room again the next evening, and this time, he bullies her into inviting him in. she almost had a fit when he climbed into her bed and demanded she cuddle with him. at first, the word no was at the tip of her tongue, but then the intrusive thoughts won that round.

she’d struggled with how intimate it was to have kyle’s arms around her, not wanting him to touch her because she knew it would shatter the walls she’d carefully built over the years. he took one look at her and told her to stop fighting her feelings. she’d almost snapped at him, until she saw the look in his eyes. she’d hurt him and herself if she told him no. so she surrendered herself to him completely.

“it’s just for tonight, you can go back to hating me tomorrow.”

her heart breaks when kyle says it so casually, as if he’s trying not to make it a big thing, when it absolutely is.

she’s never hated kyle a day in her life. she just doesn’t understand why he wants to be with someone as cold as her? why would he want to be with a woman who was so damn traumatized, she thought everyone who approached her had some ulterior motive. having an unpleasant childhood and learning not to trust anyone would do that to a person.

during a session, she spoke to her therapist about kyle. she even told the other woman about the gifts he gave her. he won’t leave me alone, she had complained.

have you asked him to leave you be?

well, no. but—

think about why that is.

she’d almost quit therapy that day. she didn’t want to think about kyle and the way he made her feel.

after the life she’d lived, she promised to never let anyone get close enough to see how vulnerable she could be. she was convinced they would just take advantage. so she hardened her heart and became more frigid as the years went by. sometimes when she looked in the mirror, she didn’t see an ounce of her past self.

“you’re tense.”

her body gives a little surprised jolt at the sound of kyle’s voice. “i’m sorry,” she mumbles, while trying to relax in his arms.

“what’s on your mind?” kyle asks, before pressing a kiss to her forehead and stroking a hand down her back.

she shrugs and tells him not to worry about it, even though she knows it’s already too late for that.

“don’t do that. there’s something bothering you, sweetheart.”

she sighs softly, before lifting her head off his chest. “you’re right, but i don’t want to talk about it right now. just hold me please.”

and it’s truly a blur after that, not knowing how she ended up on her back with kyle’s fingers intertwined with hers and his cock buried deep in her pussy. he’s already syphoned one orgasm out of her with his tongue, and now he wants to have her creaming around his cock this time.

she’s not sure what she’s gotten herself into. because when kyle gives her the filthiest grind against her pussy, his leaking cock pressing up against her g-spot, her eyes roll so far back into her head, she’s surprised they don’t get stuck. a pleasure filled sob spills from her lips when kyle does it again and again until she’s clawing at his back and wailing so loud, he has to quickly smother her cries with his mouth.

he knows she’ll probably never live it down if someone walks by the room and hears how loud she can be when she’s getting fucked within an inch of her life.

kyle actually has the audacity to pause mid thrust to say, “damn, i didn’t know you could sing like that.”

he laughs when she gives him a whiny shut up and fuck me please. he watches the way her scowl disappears when he pulls out, then bullies his cock back into her drooling pussy.

“fuck, pussy’s so tight and wet around my dick, just gushing,” kyle hisses out with a roll of his hips, eyes almost crossing when she tightens around his cock. “you’re gonna strangle me to death. christ.”

“i’m sorry,” she manages to choke out through the overwhelming sensation of his cock hitting her sweet spot repeatedly. she was in fucking heaven.

“don’t be. you’re doin’ so good for me, sweetheart,” kyle croons in her ear. “you’re takin’ me so well. gonna have you fallin’ apart on this dick every night.”

“please.” his words are entirely too much for her handle.

“please what?” kyle coos, as his cock drags against her spongy walls. “gonna see how good you’ll be when i stretch that ass out with my fingers first, and then on my cock.”

the cry she emits when her senses white out completely and all she can feel is the sheer pleasure of her orgasm, is loud enough to be heard out in the hallway.

kyle doesn’t slow down when he tells her to give him one more. she wants to call him greedy, but she’s too busy moaning and writhing underneath him while he rubs her clit in sync with his thrusts. when she cums again, kyle is filling her pussy up to the brim with his seed and moaning her name.

kyle has to force her out of bed after he suggests they shower and change the sheets. she whines about being tired, but lets him guide her to the bathroom anyway.

she spirals a little when she’s sure she kyle is sleeping. she doesn’t want him to hear her weeping. and the second a pitiful whimper escapes her mouth, she’s out of the bed and locking herself in the bathroom, where she can cry freely.

she tries to avoids kyle after that, but he’s not having it.

he won’t let her run from this. when she tries to deny it, he calls her out on it and lets her know that they’ll be having a lengthy discussion when he gets back. “my teammates and i are leaving base. gotta put an end to some shit none of us want to deal with, and i’m not sure when i’ll be back, sweetheart.”

during the three months that kyle is gone, she’s missing him more than she thought she would. phone calls and video calls aren’t enough anymore. he tries to soothe her by telling her he’ll be seeing her soon, but she cries anyway.

it’s only then that she comes to a startling realization.

she finally tells her therapist what she’s been wanting to tell kyle for weeks.

i think i love him. no, i know i love him.

when she sees kyle again, she launches herself at him immediately, much to everyone’s surprise, because since when was kyle dating anyone.

soap, price, and ghost can’t help but to stare at her and kyle in wonder. she’s clutching at kyle, while crying her eyes out and telling him how much she loves him and how much she misses him. eyebrows raise when she drags him into a kiss that’s damn near pornographic.

kyle beams at her when he pulls away from the kiss, before he pulls her in for a soft peck and a hug that leaves her a little breathless.

and leave it up to him to ruin the moment when he says, “so, about that talk.”

she just groans and lets him drag her across the tarmac.

a/n: thank you for sending this message and i hope you enjoy.

#she’s doing her best #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick #kyletogaz talks #just kyle things #kyletogazwrites

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swiftlyinlove · 11 months ago

Text

Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do

pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

summary: You and Spencer are best friends, but there's always been a little spark between you. When he cancels your plans for Christmas, you're determined to prove that you know him better than anyone else.

warnings: idiots in love, christmas fluff, a little angst if you squint??

word count: approximately 4.5k

a/n: Hi! It's been a long time since I wrote much of anything, but writing this for Christmas has been an absolute joy. I love Spencer so much, and this poor boy just suffers... I wanted to give him a happy ending for Christmas - or a happy beginning. I hope you like it.

The first thing you realized after the beep signaled the end of the phone call was how weird Spencer was acting lately.

To be fair, you two had an unconventional friendship. Due to the nature of his job, Spencer was often busy and therefore you couldn’t communicate as much as you'd like to, but you'd set up a base rule to make sure you never lost touch with one another: mandatory Friday night video call.

Every Friday, without fail, you would Facetime. Spencer wasn’t fond of technology, you were aware, but he’d gladly face his prejudice and lack of knowledge of anything digital if it meant talking to you. It didn't matter if he was home or if he was in another state for a case; come nine pm on a Friday, you two would be catching up about your lives.

That, of course, meant that you'd grasp at every opportunity you could to be with each other. He was in town for a case? You would meet up and have dinner if he had time; if he was doing something important and couldn’t finish it in time for dinner, he would drop by your place at the craziest hour in the morning and lie down next to you, gently shaking you awake to reveal he had gotten take out from your favorite restaurant.

Despite being awakened from your slumber, you would greet him with the brightest smile he’s ever seen - well, after letting out a little shriek of surprise, to which Spencer would respond with an “It’s me, little menace” and a chuckle that would make your heart flutter every time.

The nickname had originated from your childhood. Spencer didn’t have many friends in middle school, and the fact that he was much smarter than kids his age didn’t help. His classmates either made fun of him or avoided him altogether, but you were… different.

When you first moved into town, you were very nervous for your first day of school. Making friends was never easy for you, as your peers would deem you rather weird for always having your nose stuck in books. However, you quickly realized you had nothing to worry about - it took one look at little Spencer Reid, reading Crime and Punishment at the lunch table, for you to know you had found your place.

You sat next to him, ignoring the snickers from the so-called “popular kids”. He hesitantly lifted his gaze from the wrinkled pages - you reckoned he had probably read that book many times before -, expecting to see someone with a mean scowl ready to taunt him.

Instead, his wide eyes were met with your bright smile, your rosy cheeks, and your adorable ponytails, and he frowned in confusion. “Hello…?”

“Hi. I’m Y/N.” You greeted him excitedly. There was something about him that made you feel confident, so you continued. “I’m new here and I noticed you were sitting alone. And that seems like a really cool book if you don’t mind me saying, and I just thought you-”

You cut yourself off, realizing you were rambling. You could feel your cheeks warming up, and you were sure you looked as flustered as you were feeling. Before you could even dwell on how embarrassed you felt, Spencer’s lips broke into a smile.

And that was it. From that moment on, you had been inseparable. Well, perhaps not physically; after all, he was academically way ahead of you and everyone else, and he even managed to graduate from high school at only twelve years old.

That didn’t stop you from hanging out every moment you could, nor from exchanging letters every single day when he went to college. To this day, you still had those letters, safely tucked into a charming wooden box you kept on your bookshelf, but you’d never tell him that (although you were sure he knew, as the great profiler he was).

So, despite being separated due to your busy jobs - his more than yours - and living in different states, it wasn’t a surprise when you started arranging to spend the holidays together.

Since his mother was still institutionalized, Spencer didn't really have anyone to celebrate the holidays with and therefore didn't care much for the traditions. You, on the other hand, loved the holidays, but since your parents had passed away when you were in college, you were also alone during the season.

Thus, you cut a deal. Every year, he would use his extra vacation days to take a week off around Christmas and you would take turns visiting each other. Usually, you were both very excited about this occasion – it was one of the rare opportunities you had to be together in person, and you missed each other terribly.

This year, though... You had just called Spencer to confirm the date so you could book your flight to Quantico, and he had simply managed to say he couldn’t take time off before hanging up on you.

You were confused by this but chalked it up to it being one of those days for him. Working at the BAU, Spencer had to deal with a lot of gruesome cases often and, after a really bad one, he didn't find any energy to do much of anything.

While he'd never avoided you per se, when those days coincided with your phone calls, you would try to comfort him the best you could, and sometimes even managed to cheer him up a little.

This time, you didn't even have the chance to, and that threw you off. Still, if Spencer was in a bad mood, maybe he just didn't feel like talking. Not even to you.

Deciding to not push it any further, it's only a few days later that you brought up your trip to Quantico, this time via text. You spent the entire day nearly jumping at your phone each time it vibrated, expecting a notification with his name on it.

It was only later that night that you'd get your answer in the form of an ‘I can't this year’. You read the text over and over again, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking, but you had hoped that, once he was in a better mood, he would be just as eager as you for your shared holiday season.

It occurred to you that perhaps something happened, perhaps he couldn't file for a vacation because he had a big case that he couldn't step away from.

But if that were the case, he would've told you so. He would've explained, apologized even, and tried to schedule another date for your trip to make it up to you. So, you concluded, he just didn't want to see you.

That thought haunted you for the entire week.

Finally having enough of feeling blue and not getting any work done, you decided to go straight to the source in search of answers. Well, source adjacent - Spencer was still replying rather coldly to your texts, so you couldn’t ask him directly. Penelope Garcia was the next best thing.

You had met the members of the BAU after a particularly successful case in your city. Their flight would only leave in the morning and Spencer thought he could take the opportunity to take you to the cinema for a late-night movie, just like the good old days of your adolescence.

However, Penelope and Rossi had other plans. To properly celebrate their hard work that led to saving multiple women who had been kidnapped a few weeks prior, they decided to take the team out for dinner in a nice restaurant.

“And it’s mandatory. It’s not like we have anything else to do tonight, so no excuses.” She had warned in a playfully threatening tone.

Spencer shifted in his spot while putting away his things in his satchel. After all the years he worked at the BAU, he still hadn’t told his coworkers - his found family, really - about you. It was the one thing he kept close to his chest, the one secret he wanted to keep forever.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he brushed his hair behind his ears, not daring to turn and face the team while he spoke. “I sort of already have plans.”

His voice was so quiet that the team wasn’t sure they had heard him correctly. After a moment of silence, Derek’s lips curled into his (in)famous smirk and he gently nudged Spencer’s side, making the lanky boy turn around to face his friends.

Spencer’s cheeks were flushed and he kept his eyes trained on the ground, not wanting to face the curious expressions on their faces. But when Derek nudged him again, asking him “Who’s the girl?” with such a teasing tone, he couldn’t help but look up.

“She’s just a friend.” He blurted out, eyes immediately widening upon the realization of what he admitted.

While the rest of the team just shrugged it off and dived into their conversations, Derek patted him on the back - the force of which sent Spencer stumbling a few feet forward -, and Penelope lit up like he had just told her that he won the lottery.

“You have to bring her!” Penelope begged, grabbing his arm as they walked towards the door of the local precinct they had been working on for the case. “I want to meet this mystery woman.”

Penelope didn’t say it to him then, but she was sure you weren’t ‘just a friend’. She might’ve not been a profiler, but the look in his eyes when he spoke about you and his hesitation to cancel your plans for the sake of the team made her think that perhaps you were much more special to him than he realized.

Her suspicions were, of course, confirmed when he showed up at the restaurant a few hours later with you in his arms, wearing an elegant black dress and a radiant smile on your face as you whispered something to him, immediately breaking into a fit of giggles.

Spencer tried to feign indignation at your comment, but he couldn’t help but smile as he led you to his friends, who were all watching the interaction with surprise and disbelief. Your laughter calmed when you reached the table, but the smile never fell from your face as Spencer introduced you, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. That’s when Penelope knew.

You clicked rather well with his friends. They were, naturally, very curious about you, and you did your best to answer all their questions. Meanwhile, Spencer, who was sitting next to you, placed a hand on your lower back, making sure you didn’t feel overwhelmed under the attentive eyes of his friends.

Penelope and you were a match made in heaven, Spencer reckoned. You quipped back and forth the entire night, even swapping numbers by the end of it, and Spencer even joked that you had found a new favorite FBI agent as you made your way to his car.

Chuckling at his statement, you stopped in your tracks, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to place a tender kiss on his cheek. “You’ll always be my favorite. But she’s a close second.”

Spencer was sure his heart had stopped right then and there and that he had gone to heaven.

Since that night, you frequently called Penelope to talk about numerous things - from the latest TV shows you were both hooked on to recipes for dessert -, but you rarely talked about Spencer. Until today.

“Penny, I need your help.” You blurted out as soon as the blonde answered your call.

“Woah, woah, calm down my friend,” Penelope answered, amused and slightly worried about the urgency in your tone. “What’s on your pretty little mind?”

All it took for Penelope to know something was wrong was two words. “It’s Spencer.”

“What about boy wonder?” The technical analyst questioned, trying to make sense of what you were saying.

“He’s been acting so cold lately.” You explained, sighing in exhaustion as you plopped down on your couch. “Well, you know how we always arrange to spend the holidays together?”

Penelope hummed in agreement - every year when Spencer would put in a request to take time off during the holidays, she would make sure it was at the top of Strauss’ paperwork, knowing he was doing it for you.

At her approval, you continued. “This year I was supposed to come to Quantico, but every time I try to bring it up, he shuts me down and just says that he can’t. I don’t understand why he’s acting like this and it's been driving me nuts all week.”

The blonde’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at your image on the phone.

“Are we sure we’re talking about the same person? Because he seemed pretty excited last week. He wouldn’t shut up about how he found the perfect gift for you and how he couldn’t wait to see your face when you opened it.”

This confused you even more, and you frowned as you processed her words. “Yeah, well, this week he can barely text me back. I don’t want anything crazy, Penny, I just want to be with him for Christmas.”

“I don’t know what happened. As far as I can tell, he did put in the request for a vacation.” Penelope replied. Then, her face lit up in realization and she cursed under her breath. “Morgan.”

“Morgan? What does Derek have to do with this?” You asked, more disoriented than ever.

“Wait here,” Penelope said, quickly getting up from her chair and leaving you to stare at her empty office. She returns a few minutes later, looking pretty annoyed, to see you making a cup of coffee in your kitchen.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sweet cheeks.” The blonde said apologetically, making your gaze return to your phone, forgotten on the counter as you waited for her.

You quickly picked it up, registering her distressed expression. “What happened?”

“I found out why Reid’s acting like an ass to you.” She replied, her voice softening as she saw the glimmer of worry in your eyes. “It seems like Morgan has done quite a number on him.”

“What do you mean Morgan has done a number on him? What did he do?” You questioned, growing irritated by Penelope’s ability to beat around the bush. You loved her, you really did, but you just wanted to know what happened.

“I’m not sure I should be telling you this, but since you’re so upset…” Penelope trailed off, pursing her lips. “Morgan better pay me back.”

“Penelope, just spit it out.” You interrupted, your impatience reflected in your tone.

“Fine. I told you Reid wouldn’t shut up about you, and Morgan may or may not have teased him about his feelings for you and it may or may not have caused Spencer to clam up in his shell.” Penelope rushed through her words and you blinked, unsure you had heard her correctly.

You could feel your heart beating in your ears as you asked her, “Spencer… Has feelings for me?”

Penelope looked reluctant to answer your questions, clearly not wanting to violate Spencer’s privacy. Ever since she met you, she knew you and the resident FBI genius were destined for each other, but she wanted you to discover on your terms.

“Penny, please.” You sounded out of breath, and it cleared any sign of hesitation on Penelope’s mind.

“Baby girl, I can’t be the one to tell you that. You have to ask him.” She responded, her voice full of empathy. “But between me and you, I’m pretty sure you know what the answer is.”

Spencer was certain that he was in the 9th circle of hell.

Ever since Morgan’s comment, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He always knew what you two had was special. You knew how to make him laugh; Spencer didn’t consider himself to be difficult to entertain, but he could be quite oblivious to his coworkers' jokes sometimes, especially if they were about him. But you? Oh, you managed to make him laugh hysterically with a simple comment, and it endeared him.

You had been with him through the good and the bad, after all. You were there at his graduation, celebrating his first Ph.D. - and the two that came after that, too - and you were right there by his side when he watched his mother be dragged away to a mental institution, holding his hand in an attempt to comfort him.

That was what he loved most about you. He could always count on you to be there for him. He recalled the first moment he realized you were much more than a friend to him.

It had been after the Tobias Hankel case. Spencer slipped in and out of consciousness as the doctors dragged him through the hospital, murmuring to themselves about testing the drugs in his system and checking his vitals.

His life wasn’t in danger anymore, but he was oh so tired. He had spent days upon days of captivity without a wink of sleep, locked in an empty cabin where he was tortured by two of Tobias’ personalities, and all he could think about between getting tormented and getting drugged was you.

He was sure he was going to die then, and his main concern was that he wouldn’t be able to see your pretty smile again. He would tell you this when you appeared at his bedside a few hours later, claiming that you received a call from the hospital - unsurprisingly, you were each other’s emergency contacts - and had threatened a stewardess to get a ticket to the next plane to Virginia, and you would call him ridiculous for it.

It was only when you were sitting next to him on his hospital bed, his head leaning against your chest as you combed your hands through his hair, that he allowed himself to cry, to reveal how truly scared he had been under Tobias’ hands.

You whispered sweet nothings in his ear as you softly lifted his head, making sure he was looking at you when you softly kissed his tears away. His arms had tightened around you, a silent sign of his gratitude, and he knew then, he knew, you were everything to him.

How could he have not fallen for you after all that?

But he could never tell you. He had been rejected many times in his life, but if he was to get rejected by you? He was sure his heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

So he tried to bury his feelings deep inside him, keeping you a secret from the people who knew him best and, when the time came, introduced you to them. As a friend. Because that’s all that you were. Friends.

When Morgan teased him about his feelings for you, Spencer entered panic mode. If Morgan could see Spencer was madly in love with you, then you could see it too - you could always read him like a book, after all.

And if you hadn’t brought it up… You didn’t want to. He knew you’d never want to hurt him, so the only logical conclusion he could reach was: you don’t feel the same.

He tried his best to avoid you. Cutting you off whenever you brought up your plans for the holidays, replying to your texts with short answers, and even refraining from watching Doctor Who in his free time, because it only reminded him of how you two used to lie on your couch during summer break and watch it together.

What he didn’t count on was opening his door in mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve and seeing you standing in front of him, coat covered in the snow that was falling outside the comfort of his building and a small smile on your face.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.” You said bashfully, not sure how he would react to your presence.

“Merry Christmas.” He replied, his breath knocked out of his lungs at how beautiful you looked standing there. He might have fallen in love with you all over again.

After a beat of silence, he wet his lips, looking at you with the same wide-eyed gaze he greeted you with when you were kids. “What... What are you doing here?”

Your lips curled into a sheepish smile. “What, you thought I was gonna miss Christmas?”

Seeing you in front of him, hearing your voice without the faint static of the phone for the first time in a while… it was surreal to him. He couldn’t help but cave in and wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer into a tight hug.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders just as tightly, your body finally relaxing against his. You could feel his nose nuzzled into your neck, and you smiled against his shoulder.

“I missed you.” You whispered, letting your words linger between the two of you.

“I missed you too.” He whispered back, and you knew he was sincere. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

“I know.” You breathed in his scent, pressing a soft kiss against his shoulder before pulling away. He reluctantly let you go, a remorseful smile on his lips.

Spencer guided you into his apartment, and you took note of how he put up your usual Christmas decorations. “You managed to set up the tree by yourself?” You teased him.

He chuckled, watching as you settled on his couch and patted the space next to you. He promptly followed your lead, sitting down beside you. “Yeah, it was a real challenge.”

Before you could even reply, Spencer reached out to grab your hand, his thumb softly caressing your knuckles to calm his racing mind.

“Look, I’m so sorry. I’ve been stuck in my head lately, and it’s not fair that I treated you like that. We’ve had this tradition forever and I feel like I disrespected it and-” Spencer rambled, and you pressed your lips against his to shut him up.

Your sudden action stunned him, and he couldn’t help but succumb to your spell. Placing his hands on both sides of your face and closing his eyes, he kissed you back as gently and tenderly as he could, feeling you melt against him.

Once you pulled away, his eyes fluttered open, looking at you with a lovestruck, surprised gaze. He seemed to be speechless, which made you giggle.

“I hope that was on your wishlist this Christmas.” You joked, leaning your forehead against his.

Your gaze softened as you took in his expression. “Penny told me everything. In all seriousness, I understand why you did it. I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t just tell me.”

He gulped, feeling vulnerable under your loving stare. He always got the impression that you could see right through him.

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been in love with you almost my entire life, and when I finally realized it, I was afraid that if I acted on them, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” He murmured, his tone growing sadder.

“And when Morgan joked about my feelings for you, I just realized that maybe I hadn’t been as discreet as I thought and perhaps you already knew and didn’t talk about it so you wouldn’t hurt me.” He continued, closing his eyes again as if the mere thought was too painful to bear.

He took a deep breath, his thumbs starting to slowly brush against your cheekbones. “I didn’t want to face you and find out if it was true, because… Because my heart couldn’t take it.”

You listened quietly to his words, his touch on your skin grounding you and sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It broke your heart to hear him speak like that, as if the mere thought of you feeling the same never crossed his mind, as if it was absurd.

You knew he had low self-esteem, a permanent scar from all the times he was bullied throughout his life, but his self-deprecating view never ceased to shock you.

“Spencer…” You whispered his name like it was sacred, like he was something to be worshipped, and it made his heart skip a beat. “I know all your favorite songs, how you take your coffee, and your favorite books. In order. I know you. I’d be crazy not to love you.”

You could feel him exhale in relief at your quiet confession, his racing mind finding solace in your words. “Really?”

“Of course.” You replied with a chuckle, leaning forward to press a feather-light peck against his lips. “I’ve been in love with you since we were, like, sixteen. All I ever wanted was to be the one to give you everything you want.”

He smiled as you pulled away once again, thinking about how much time you two had lost while dancing around your feelings. Although, he supposed, it wasn’t lost time - you had spent those years giving each other love, even if it wasn’t necessarily romantic.

“We’re both idiots.” He replied, making you laugh once more. You stood up, grabbing both of his hands and guiding him to the kitchen. He followed you with a bright smile on his face; he would follow you anywhere, he suspected.

“I was thinking I could make those cookies you like and, afterward, we could perhaps… snuggle by the fireplace?” You suggested, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

He pretended to think for a moment, before he finally gave in, pressing a delicate kiss against your temple. “Anything you want, little menace.”

Spencer hummed, burying his face further into his neck. “I was thinking of reading a few books. Santa was going to keep me company.”

Later that night, when you were both snuggled up against each other in front of his fireplace while eating the gingerbread cookies you both made, you asked him curiously, “What were you planning to do for Christmas, if I hadn’t shown up?”

You laughed quietly at his admission. “Well, Santa doesn’t know you like I do.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Your genius agreed, peppering little kisses onto your skin. “You’re the best Christmas present ever, do you know that?”

“Yeah? Wait until you see what I actually bought for you.” You replied, a playful smile on your face. “Besides, a little birdie told me you got me the perfect Christmas gift.”

“I’m gonna kill Penelope.” He muttered under his breath, sending you into a fit of laughter.

Well, maybe this Christmas time

You'll finally realize

That I could be the one

To give you everything you want

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #penelope garcia #derek morgan #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid cm #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #fluff #best friends to lovers #criminal minds oneshot #Spotify

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daycourtofficial · 11 months ago

Text

Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon

Summary: you teach the Inner Circle about your home court’s tradition of mistletoe, and someone begins placing them all around the house to catch you underneath them.

Author’s note: this is heavily inspired by Operation Mistletoe by Wkemeup, so feel free to check that out.

“So you just hang them up so you can what- make out with people all the time?” Mor asks, confusion etched on her face as she takes a sip of her wine.

“Sounds awesome,” Cassian says, taking another bite of porridge.

You sigh, “well you don’t really do it to just make out with people,” sending a pointed glare at Mor. “Previous people viewed it as sacred for it’s healing properties, and many view it as a symbol of fertility. It’s only really grown in the Winter Court, but it’s a fun reminder of who we come from.”

Rhys leans forward, “I’m still confused about the kissing thing, I get using it as decor, I suppose. But why kissing?”

“Like I said,” you say, taking a bite of your cereal, “since it survives the winter and blooms during it; many view it as a sign of prosperity and fertility, so maybe people started kissing under it to prompt further fertility.”

Cassian huffs, “you just made sex sound so boring.”

You roll your eyes and point at Cassian, “you’re the one who asked me about winter court traditions for solstice!”

He glares at you, “yeah, well I was hoping you’d tell me you all jump in the lake naked every year.”

You laugh, “oh so you’ve heard of the polar bear plunge?”

Cassian stills, turning his head to look at you with incredible speed. “So you do do it!”

“Well, I don’t,” you say, picking up your glass to drink, “at least, not anymore.” You say with a wink.

Azriel speaks up, his soothing tone taking over the room. “So if you’re caught under the plant, you have to kiss?”

“It’s bad luck not to. You don’t have to kiss on the lips, most people kiss on the cheek or on the forehead.”

You woke up the next morning, coming down the stairs, clinging to the robe wrapped around your nightgown.

Coffee, then getting dressed. That was your plan, after all. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, a big perk to living with early risers being that there’s always coffee ready when you roll out of bed.

You start moving for the doorway to the dining room, to see if anyone is eating so you can say hi, when something catches your eye.

Right above you in the doorway is a sprig of mistletoe, tied together in a bundle with a red ribbon, hanging from the doorway.

You look at it, just as pretty as they are in your memories, the vibrance of the green capturing your attention, when you hear shuffling behind you. You go to turn to see who it is, when a large hand envelops the right side of your face, bringing your left cheek into contact with something.

Not something, someone. Someone’s kissing you on the cheek. Before you can process what’s happening, the warmth that was pressed against you is gone, and Azriel comes striding into view.

“Good morning,” he says nonchalantly, walking out of the dining room, nodding to Feyre as he passes her and out of the house.

You whip your head around to see if anyone else witnessed what just happened, and you see Feyre sitting at the table, a spoonful of porridge stuck midway between the bowl and her mouth.

“Did you- did that - see?” You ask, your flustered state making Feyre giggle in amusement. You bring your hand up to your cheek where he had pressed his lips to you.

You wrote it off as him getting caught up in the idea of mistletoe, until a few days later when you were heading into the library. Your head was down, trying to focus on not sliding since your shoes were still wet from the rain. You look up in time to keep yourself from running face first into someone’s chest.

You reach your arms out to steady yourself against them, apologizing for running into them, until you look up and find Azriel’s amused eyes looking back at you. You look above him, seeing he has run into you right underneath the mistletoe.

“We have to stop running into each other like this,” you joke, as you motion with your finger for him to come closer. You stand on your tiptoes, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him on his left cheek, perhaps lingering a bit longer than you should. Breathing in his piney scent one last time, you pull back, letting him continue on his day.

That night the entire group went out to Rita’s, attempting to have some fun despite the busy season. It seems like these days all of you are working double time to ensure you can keep the day of Solstice free from work.

All of you head upstairs to your private room, just large enough for your group to comfortably lounge about. Azriel stays behind, waiting for a tray of shots to take up the stairs. You decide to stay with him, opting to keep him company while he waits. You would offer to help him carry the drinks, however the shadowsinger’s height allowed him to manuever through the crowd with the tray much more swiftly than you could.

“Is all your solstice shopping done, then?” You ask the shadowsinger, knowing he most likely had finished his shopping months ago.

He flashes you a grin, one he reserves only for you. “Mostly, just little odds and ends left.”

You gasp, “As I live and breathe, Azriel hasn’t finished his solstice shopping? It’s a week away- you’re usually finished by September!”

He rolls his eyes at your playfulness. “There’s one gift left I’ve been waiting for - I just have to go pick it up.”

He leans his left arm against the counter, his body facing the room surveying the area.

“Who’s it for?” You ask, trying not to get too flustered at how close his body is to yours.

He leans in closer to your ear, as he whispers, “Beron.”

He laughs, pulling away from you. You try not to let the disappointment of the loss of his warmth show on your face.

You huff and cross your arms, “fine then, keep your secrets.”

“What about you?” He asks, nudging your foot with his, “any last minute shopping to do?”

You went through the gifts you had bought for everyone, very impressed with some of them. You got Nesta an advanced copy of the next Sellyn Drake novel, some enchanted canvases that allow multiple paintings on them, showing them like a moving picture for Feyre, a hand knit sweater from Winter for Rhys, an exquisite wall mirror for Mor.

Yet you couldn’t figure out what to get the male in front of you. Do you go with simple, so he doesn’t think you tried too hard? Or do you go all out, lay all of your feelings for him out there?

Before you can answer, the bartender presents Azriel with the tray of shots, so you lead him through the crowd of people, walking up the stairs.

You go to turn around and make a comment about how unfair it is that he can manuever through the crowd so easily, when you feel him gently place a hand on your upper arm, sliding down, lifting your hand up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

Your cheeks heat immediately, as he lets go of your hand, pointing above the two of you, where someone has crudely hung a mistletoe plant above the top of the staircase.

He smiles at you, “tradition, right?“ before sauntering into the room to boisterous cheers that the alcohol has arrived.

The next few days pass and more and more mistletoe made appearances. You found yourself running into Azriel underneath them, wondering if he was catching anyone else under them.

Rhys was grumbling about his house being ruined by the plants, crudely hung by a nail from doorways, arches, balconies, really any surface, but the rest of you seemed to enjoy them.

Azriel wasn’t the only one you ran into underneath them, having run into Cassian a few times, who loved making a big show of it whenever you two were caught under one.

“Oh, sweetheart! We’re caught under the mistletoe! Whatever will we do?” He dramatically, and quite loudly, said to you one morning.

“Good morning Cassian,” you say, as he wraps his arms around you, planting an overly dramatic kiss to your cheek.

He pulls away, letting you go, starting to walk off, but he turns around and smirks while looking somewhere behind you before he’s gone. You look around, but can’t find anyone nearby.

You weren’tt the only one caught under the plant, with most members of the inner circle caught once or twice underneath the plant. You had caught a glimpse of Elain and Lucien underneath one, turning on the spot to provide them with some privacy.

You got caught under it with Nesta, who kissed you on the lips like her life depended on it. The kiss caused Mor to wolf whistle at you two, and Cassian had to pry Nesta off of you after he felt like it was lasting too long.

But it was mostly Azriel, him always catching you when you’re walking through a threshold where the mistletoe is dangling. He had kissed your forehead, your hands, the top of your head, but usually it was on your cheeks, and as much as you enjoyed the kisses, each time you secretly hoped he’d kiss you on the lips.

Rhys sighs, walking into the living room to find that Azriel and Cassian have already been by here, the room covered in mistletoe. From his beautiful crystal chandelier (a delicate heirloom, he grumbles), to the doorways where they’re crudely hung (those nails will leave holes!), to the ones hanging from the ceiling (really?), Rhys is tired of the plant.

The fresh scent of it coats the room, as he walks towards his mate and hangs his head in her shoulder. “What did I do to deserve this?” He grumbles to her.

She giggles, closing her book, “come on, it’s only a few more days, Azriel has some plan cooked up.”

His grip on her loosens, his body going even more slack against her, “yes but why does my house have to suffer for it?”

She coos, stroking his hair as he pouts.

“I think it’s romantic. Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining when I caught you under one last night.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, as Rhys begins kissing her neck.

As if he summoned them, Cassian and Azriel come back through, holding massive bags of mistletoe.

“I’m just saying, Az, you’re going through a lot of effort. I say you just plant one on her.” The general says, shrugging.

Azriel rolls his eyes at his brother, “Not everyone is wooed by someone just ‘planting one on them’.” He replies, using finger quotes at the end.

Cassian sets down his bag as a grin overtakes his face, “so you are trying to woo her.”

Azriel gives him a look that would terrify a lesser man.

“Considering the effort he’s going through, Cass, it’s quite obvious what he’s trying to do,” Rhys responds, “even though he’s ruining my house to accomplish it for a girl who looks at him like he created the night sky.”

Feyre tuts at Rhysand, as he straightens off of her. “Well, I find it sweet, Az. And this is my house too, so continue on.”

Azriel smiles at his high lady, grabbing Cassian’s bag of mistletoes as he walks out, blatantly ignoring Rhys and Feyre’s intense staring at each other as they are obviously arguing telepathically.

You had left for the day before Solstice to return to Winter to drop off some gifts, but hurried back to Night to be able to spend all day Solstice with your new family. You returned to find the house a green chaotic mess, with mistletoe hanging everywhere. Dozens and dozens of sprigs sprouting from the ceiling, almost looking like a garden on the ceiling.

You can’t find Azriel anywhere, unsure of where he’s gone off to. You actually get caught under a mistletoe with both Rhys and Feyre, each of them kissing you on the cheek, Rhys muttering something about not letting live plants in the house anymore as he pulls away.

You eventually retire to your room, deciding if you can’t find the spymaster, you’ll take a nap to prepare for the evening’s festivities. It’s the night before Solstice, and everyone seems to usually spend the days leading up to the holiday drinking their asses off.

Later that evening, after you took a glorious nap, a nice bath, and spent a while getting dressed and ready, you went up to Azriel’s door, knocking softly on the wood.

He opens the door after a moment, taking longer than he usually does, and he smiles down at you, his build taking up the entire doorframe.

“Hey Az, can you come to my room for a sec? I need your help.”

He nods, closing his door behind him, following you across the hall into your room. You open your door, letting him into your space, and shut it behind him. “What did you need help with?”

You pull out the box you had been holding behind your back, presenting it to him. “Open it,” you tell him, putting it in his hands.

The tips of his ears redden, “aren’t we exchanging gifts later?”

You smile, “yeah, but I wanted you to open this one now.” He undoes the ribbon on the box, opening the lid to find a piece of parchment. He sets the box down on your nightstand, standing up straight to unroll the parchment.

Neatly written in your handwriting are the words “Look up”. He does as the parchment says, looking towards the high ceiling of your room to find a small mistletoe hanging directly above the two of you.

“Happy Solstice,” you say, grabbing his shirt and bringing him towards you. You stand on your tip toes, bringing his face into yours.

At your words, Azriel swears he forgets how to breathe, much less think, as your lips cover his. You taste like cookies and coffee, a taste he wants to get lost in when he realizes he hasn’t moved, standing still like a complete buffoon.

He wraps his arms around you, deepening the kiss. He causes you to lean back, dipping you as he deepens the kiss.

When he pulls away, his eyes aglow with joy and humor, he reaches beside himself, pulling something from the shadows.

“If you’d like to open your gift,” he tells you.

You unwrap the wrapping paper, opening the box inside containing another sprig of mistletoe. You laugh, but Azriel starts speaking.

“I asked Kallias to bless it. It is an immortal sprig now. I just picked it up this morning from winter.”

He fidgets with his hands, a little worried this gift isn’t as great as he thought it was. “It’s a little piece of home to have year-round. I know how much you love Solstice.”

You smile up at him, “I love it,” and kiss him again.

He pulls back, obviously needing to tell you something. “Um- it was me, all the mistletoe around the house and everywhere we went.” He raises his hands to gesture all around. “Well it was mostly me, but Cassian helped a bit.”

He sighs, “he caught me one night, hanging them up. Nosy bastard,” you giggle. “So he insisted he help, then big blabbermouth told Rhys and Feyre.”

You laugh, appreciating how much effort he truly went to to do this.

“So I may or may not have been sitting in my shadows all week, waiting by mistletoes for you to walk by.”

Your jaw slackens at his admission, but before you can say anything, he continues. “Cassian beat me a few times when I was about to come out and kiss you. He’d gloat all night about it.”

The shadowsinger rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics.

“But what about the one at Rita’s? How did you do that one?” You ask, confusion lacing your voice. “I was with you the moment we walked in.”

He smiles, a shadow coming by you holding a sprig of mistletoe. “They can’t resist if I ask them to do something for you.”

You throw your head back to laugh, but he wraps a hand around your neck, capturing your laugh with his lips.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #acotar fanfiction #azriel fluff

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lovecla · 2 months ago

Text

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter seven:

➴ chapter warnings: mention of depression/depressive episodes, calories, bad relationship with food and shitty family, hurt/comfort.

➴ word count: 2.3k

💌 from me to you: and now, TYPA has officially surpassed IYLMLMK word count!! how are we feeling about that? i’m feeling like the world’s biggest yapper ever but i just feel like quinn and maddie’s relationship reaches a whole other level of love and intimacy and i want u guys to feel that. by the end of this story, please let me know (hah) if i reached my goal :) enjoy this chapter and ily all so much! wrote this while listening to madison beer and while it was raining, cannot think of a better combo. also, this chapter hurts and heals me at the same time, and i hope it does the same to you.

౨ৎ

2024, MAY.

“THIS ISN’T much casual of us, is it?” you joke as you leave the car, opening the back door so you could get Bella while Quinn got your bags.

“Where’s the fun in being casual?” he jokes back, making you bite your lips, trying to hide your smile.

You and Quinn had decided to start over again, and take it easy. You were best friends and he knew you like no one else, but you grew up and, even if you didn’t want to admit it, you’d changed.

When he suggested that you go out for date nights and things people do whenever they want to be with someone, you thought that it would be a great idea. Spending time with him was one of your favorite things about living in Vancouver, so there was nothing to worry about.

Until he started to ask questions– nothing unexpected, just things like “is your favorite color still blue?” (no, I prefer purple now,) or “do you still like chocolate chip pancakes?” (more than I like myself, really,). And in the beginning it hadn’t bothered you, no, it had actually made you feel happy, wanted.

Until you remembered who you’d become.

After he and his family left, it was just you and your thoughts alone with each other, both wanting to run away but stuck inside your head. It was the things you heard from your mom, the fact that she liked to remind you that you were nothing but a shadow inside your own family and unless you were perfection itself, you wouldn’t have anything more than what she was willing to give you.

It was hearing your father, who barely spoke to you, yell at you for the tiniest things and look at you like you were the worst thing that has ever happened to him.

It was watching Peter, who once had been your best friend, your rock, your safe person, distancing himself from you, ignoring you whenever you spoke to him, leaving the sink full of dishes whenever that housekeeper wasn’t around because he knew you’d be the one cleaning them.

It was too much, and you were only fifteen. You were alone, with nothing but your thoughts and the intense, obsessive stalking of Quinn’s Instagram account, trying to understand why it was so easy for people to leave you behind.

But you didn’t blame him, or your family, how could you? It was all your doing. Maybe if you hadn’t spent too much time at the Hughes’ house, maybe if you hadn’t asked Peter to play with you so much, maybe if you were thinner and more like the models that worked at your mom’s magazine, maybe if you had been born a boy who also went to Med school, like your brother, then maybe, just maybe, things would’ve been different.

And then you moved to Los Angeles and just when you thought that things would get better, that you would get better, it all starts again. The dark days where you couldn’t do anything besides laying on your bed all day, sleeping for hours and eating perhaps a single meal per day– when and if you managed to get out of bed.

Showering became a dreadful thought because just the idea of seeing yourself in the mirror made you want to disappear. Realizing that the girl who once loved everything she touched, the girl that wore her heart outside of her body like an accessory turned into this lifeless body that rotted in bed for days made your stomach hurt and the tears run down your face.

Nicholas had been the one who helped you get out of that dark, evil place your mind had trapped you in, even when he didn’t know the reason behind it. He suggested that you should adopt a dog, the idea initially making you laugh because “I don’t want to can barely take care of myself, Nicholas, why should I adopt another living being?”. But he said that maybe you just needed a reason to keep going, and a pet could be one.

You ignored his advice, because it sounded ridiculous to you. But, one day, when you were on your way home from work, you walked past a shelter and decided to just take a look– leaving an hour later after a long cuddle session with the old dogs and Bella in your arms, eyes wet with tears when you noticed her sitting by herself, alone.

I know what it feels like, you answered when one of the workers asked you what made you choose her.

And she helped you get better, day by day, week after week. You finally spoke more than five words a week and you weren’t sleeping by yourself for the first time in years.

It felt nice to take care of someone.

But even though you got better, some days that sad, ugly feeling still made your skin crawl and your head hurt. It still came back, it still made you feel like shit.

And you didn’t want people to see that, you didn’t want Quinn to see that.

You knew that he would worry and try to find a way of helping you, just like he did whenever you had a sad day when you were younger, but you couldn’t do that to him, it wasn’t fair.

Besides that, you’re going to leave Canada in September. This thing you had going on with Quinn, no matter how happy it made you, was temporary, it wasn’t meant to last forever.

So you had to make sure that the time you spent with him was anything but perfect.

“This is so pretty” you compliment the cabin he had rented for the weekend, your first weekend off ever since you started working with your favorite brand, watching Bella roll on the green grass. “Feels like a movie.”

Quinn chuckles, opening the door for you and Bella before he gets inside with your and his bags.

If you thought the outside was pretty, the inside was ten thousand times better. The interior was a mix of stone with dark wood, the walls covered with floor to ceiling windows and the floor filled with fluffy, warm rugs. The living room couch could perfectly fit twenty people, and the kitchen had the most beautiful view you’d ever seen.

Bella started running around the second you unleashed her, jumping on the couch and sniffing the rugs, going upstairs and barking happily.

“I think Bella also likes the place,” you smile, getting closer to Quinn and kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer before initiating a sweet, gentle kiss, briefly caressing your tongue with his. He tasted like coffee and toothpaste, a weird mixture that you couldn’t get enough of.

“Don’t need to thank me, sweets,” he whispers against your lips before giving you a peck. “I asked the owners to fill up the pantry with baking stuff. I know you like to bake when you’re stressed.”

Your first instinct was to deny that you were stressed and say that you were just fine, but as always, he could see right through you. It had been a stressful week, with weird schedules and locations, besides getting used to living in another city, again.

But you thought you were doing a great job at hiding your true feelings from Quinn.

Well. Maybe not.

“I’m much better now,” you answer, not exactly lying. You are much better now. “But I guess it won’t hurt to bake a pie or two.”

“Great.” He hugs you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Let’s organize our things, and you’re free to go.”

You smile, excited to forget about your responsibilities for two days straight.

౨ৎ

BAKING FOR Quinn was now your favorite activity.

He didn’t try to get in your way like most people do whenever they see someone cooking, no. He sat on one of the stools and played with Bella while you explained to him the steps for baking the most perfect blueberry lattice pie in the entire world.

You noticed something while spending these past few weeks with Quinn: whenever you were around him, it was like calories and dieting didn’t matter. It was almost as if that voice that lived inside of your brain, who liked to remind you that you shouldn’t, couldn’t gain weight— because then you wouldn’t be perfect, the only thing your mom wanted for you— vanished, and only nice thoughts remained.

You have read about this before, in books and posts online— about people getting better because of other people. And even though you knew it was possible for someone to enjoy living again because of something (it happened with you and Bella), the thought of getting better because of another person hadn’t crossed your mind before having Quinn back in your life again.

It was nice.

The pie was ready after an hour and a half, looking deliciously tasty and perfect, which made you smile and snap a bunch of pictures of it.

You and Quinn sat down at the living room table, watching the sun setting through the windows and arguing with each other about which place had the nicest sunset: Vancouver or Los Angeles. You cut him a slice, which earned you a quick peck on your lips and a raspy thank you, watching as he munched on the pie, satisfied with his pleased reaction.

“This is my first time eating blueberry pie ever since you left.”

Quinn’s statement makes you pause, fork mid air, a slice of pie falling back onto your place.

You frown, confused. “What do you mean? You spent the last seven years without eating your favorite pie? Why?”

“What made this pie my favorite one was the fact that you were the one baking it,” he laughs humorlessly, staring at the half eaten slice on his plate. “When my mom tried making it for me a few years ago, I ended up snapping at her and earning a slap from my dad.”

“That wasn't very nice of you,” you chuckle, putting the fork down. “But I get what you mean. After you left I–” I stopped caring about everything else. “I stopped baking. Mom didn’t appreciate how caloric my food was and my dad—” he called my cooking disgusting once. “Well, he’s not a fan of sweets.”

“I’m sorry.” He apologies, and you’re not even sure why.

“What? No, it’s fine, you didn’t do anything wrong by leaving—”

“I meant I’m sorry about your family.”

You stare at him, fighting back the tears that immediately formed in your eyes. Blinking them away, you shrug.

“It’s fine.”

“It isn’t, Maddie, and you know it.” He grabs your hand underneath the table, running his thumb up and down on the back of your hand, the familiar touch making you smile.

“They’re the only family I have,” you tried to sound playful, only being half successful. “It’s alright, Quinny, I swear. Besides, we’re not here to talk about my family.” you change the topic quickly, not wanting to ruin the vibe with stories about your not so happy family.

He raises his right eyebrow at you. “Then why are we here?”

“Bella, look at him asking dumb questions,” you turn around, talking to Bella who was currently extremely busy destroying her carrot shaped toy on the carpet. “We’re here to watch my favorite movies and drink hot chocolate.”

“It’s May,” he points out.

“And?”

“It’s almost summer. No one drinks hot chocolate in May,”

“Oh my God, should we call the police? Should we invite Willy Wonka?” you laugh, getting off the chair. “Come on. I know you want it.”

“Do I at least get to choose the movie?” he theatrically sighs, also getting off the chair and following you around the gigantic cabin.

“I’ll see what I can do for you.”

You end up letting him choose the movie while you prepared the hot chocolate, which later you would regret, because he had chosen The Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, a movie that you had never seen before and will probably never watch again.

You were sitting beside him, trying your hardest to hide your tears and sniffles, because, surprisingly, Quinn looked like he was enjoying the depressing, extremely sad movie.

But you probably weren’t doing a great job because— “Baby?”

You only hum, hiding your face in your knees.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” he whispers, changing his position on the couch, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to his chest, adjusting your body so you were lying on top of him, face buried in his neck. “There’s no need for you to cry, baby.”

“‘M sorry,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed and somewhat childish for breaking out like this in front of him, when he was clearly enjoying the movie.

“What are you sorry for? There’s nothing wrong with crying because you’re sad,” he kisses your temple, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling one of your thighs up, fitting you perfectly against him. “I should be the one saying sorry. I saw Jim Carrey and thought the movie was going to be funny.”

You let out a wet chuckle, inhaling his comforting scent and wishing you could stay like this forever.

He runs his thumb on your cheeks, wiping the tears away. You feel him moving around and suddenly the movie’s sounds stop, and you wonder what he’s doing, too lazy to look up and see it for yourself.

But after Mabel’s characteristic laugh, you find yourself smiling and lifting your head to stare at Gravity Falls playing on the huge TV.

“Do you still like this dumbass cartoon?” Quinn asks, making you smile wider.

“It’s not dumb. And, yeah, it’s still my favorite.”

“Good.”

After that you both stay quiet for a long time, the only sounds coming from Bella’s snores, the TV, and occasionally, your laugh.

Quinn knew exactly what to do with you, even when not even you knew what had— needed— to be done. He held you close that night and your heart felt lighter and steadier.

You wanted to be his.

So. Bad.

౨ৎ

liked by vic_alonso, justinbieber, lhughes_06 and 701,013 others

madisoncarter spring day

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user1 ?????????

user1 MADISON WHAT THE HELL

vic_alonso Oooooh myyy goddd

maddiecarter_updates Is this a soft launch? What?

user2 maddiecarter_updates you know shit is bad when even maddiecarterupdates is confused 😭

user3 let’s not assume things guys omg leave her alone

user7 madison you’re going to get fatter with all these carbs xx

jackhughes user7 fuck off.

user4 GUYS LOOK AT QUINN’S STORY

user5 user4 LMFAO THEYRE NOT EVEN HIDING IT

user6 user4 I’m losing the idgaf war…

user8 user4 DID YOU GUYS SEE JACK’S COMMENT WHICH ONE OF THE HUGHES IS SHE BANGING

_quinnhughes added a new story!

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay 🤎

#quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #nhl x reader #nhl players #hockey #TYPA

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mononijikayu · 3 months ago

Text

non ho l’eta — nanami kento.

“I’m okay, sensei.” you managed to say, though your voice wavered with the effort of holding back. “It’s just... a lot to adjust to, I guess.” He nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a question left unasked, and you wondered if he knew—if he could see the turmoil in your heart. “You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” he said after a moment, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “Whatever it is you’re going through... you can talk to me.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Modern AU!;

WARNING/s: Angst, Fluff, Safe For Work (SFW), Age Difference (Reader is in early 20s, Nanami is in late 30s), Unrequited Romance, Falling In Love, First Love, Emotional Hurt, Comfort, Confession, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Loss, Letting Go, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Loneliness, Depiction of Grief, Depiction of Age Gap;

WORDS: 11k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i told myself this was going to be only five thousand words but it ends up being so long. i'm really sorry. you've been dealing with how long this is. but i love this a lot. i wrote it listening to the song with the same title as this fic and just as much, i think about that manga i read years ago, after the rain. its a good story and the ending, where the ml lets the fl lead go because he cares about her youth - it was great. i hope you like it anyway. thank you for reading!!! i love you all <3

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if you want to, tip! <3

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A NEW BEGINNING MUST ALWAYS COME YOU THINK. As you settle into the quiet, unfamiliar countryside, the weight of the loss still clings to you. The days are filled with the sounds of nature—birds chirping, the rustle of leaves—but they feel muted compared to the life you left behind. The house is smaller, the town quieter, and everything around you seems to move at a slower pace. But inside, the grief swirls like a storm, refusing to be tamed by the peaceful surroundings.

Your beloved brother Yuuji, always so full of energy, has been quieter since the move. He’s trying to be strong, to put on a brave face for you, but you can see the sadness in his eyes. It was obvious, with how his smile never reaching his eyes like it usually does.

And it felt odd, it felt weird. You weren’t used to your brother being in this. And it hurts you. But you know that you didn’t know what to do to comfort him. You don’t want to drive him away by speaking to him about it. And you don’t want to hurt him by making him feel like you were overbearing either.

Your new house was still quiet. And you weren’t used to that either. Grandpa Wasuke’s voice would be ringing out through the house today, telling you both to go and start washing up so you could eat dinner. Or sometimes when you guys got home late because of sports practice, he would be too loud to scold you because you both forget to tell him that you were going home late and making him worried.

You miss your grandfather. And you were sure of Yuuji’s feelings being the same too. The silence was too loud, even between you and your brother. You wished it wasn’t. Because you were all you had now. One evening, as you both sit on the porch, the sky painted in the soft hues of sunset, Yuji breaks the silence.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” he begins, his voice softer than usual. “Being here, without him."

"Yeah." You mumble under your breath. "It...it is."

Your brother lets out a soft sigh. "I thought moving away would help, but...”

He trails off, staring at the horizon, his usual spark dimmed by the weight of unimaginable grief. You nod, understanding exactly what he means. The move was supposed to be a new beginning, but it feels more like an escape that didn’t quite work. And yet, you were stuck. And so was he too.

“I miss him so much, you know?” you admit, your voice trembling with emotion. “I thought...maybe if we came here, it wouldn’t hurt as much. But everything just reminds me of him. Even...even the silence......"

Yuuji looks at you, his lipspursed in a line. "I....I know."

"Grandpa’s voice is not here anymore and not hearing it anymore is just….” You feel the tears threatening to fall.

Yuuji turns to you, his expression a mix of sadness and determination. “We’ve still got each other. At least there’s that, sis.” he says, his hand reaching out to rest on yours. “And we’ll get through this. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but...we will.”

His words are simple, but they carry a weight of hope that you cling to. The grief might not vanish with a change of scenery, but at least you have Yuji by your side. And that, somehow, makes the pain a little more bearable.

The new town was picturesque—a small, idyllic place with rolling fields, charming cottages, and a slower pace of life that starkly contrasted with the frenetic energy of the city you had left behind. The local college, with its ivy-covered walls and quaint architecture, offered a promise of new beginnings and opportunities. Yet, beneath the serene surface, both you and Yuuji felt an underlying emptiness that was impossible to ignore.

As you and Yuuji navigated your first weeks at college, you found yourselves struggling to adapt to the quieter, more insular environment. The once-familiar hum of city life, with its constant activity and vibrant energy, was replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds. The silence of the countryside, while initially soothing, soon became a reminder of the profound solitude you both felt.

The college itself was a small, close-knit community, where everyone seemed to know each other. The interactions were friendly and the atmosphere warm, but the sense of being an outsider in this new world was palpable. The academic workload was manageable, but your focus was often fragmented by the persistent ache of grief. Classes that once might have been engaging felt distant and abstract, overshadowed by the weight of your personal loss.

Every corner of the town seemed to hold echoes of the life you had left behind. The quaint coffee shop that you frequented, with its rustic charm and homemade pastries, became a bittersweet reminder of the comfort you once had. The local park, with its winding paths and serene pond, offered moments of reflection but also highlighted the contrast between the peaceful surroundings and the turmoil within.

The routine of daily life was a constant struggle between embracing the new and mourning the past. Each day, you and Yuuji tried to immerse yourselves in your studies and social activities, hoping to find distraction and connection. Yet, despite your best efforts, the shadows of grief seemed to follow you, making it difficult to engage fully with the present.

Yuuji’s energy began to return with the arrival of new friends. He introduced you to them one day—Kugisaki Nobara, a fiery and confident girl with a sharp tongue, and Fushiguro Megumi, a quiet and serious boy who seemed to understand more than he let on. You watched as your brother slowly began to resemble his old self, the grief loosening its grip on him with each laugh he shared with them, each story he told.

There was a joy in his voice that you hadn’t heard in months, a tenderness in the way he spoke about his new friends, and it warmed your heart to see him healing. You felt truly happy for him—how could you not? He deserved this chance to move forward, to find light in the darkness.

And yet, a small, stubborn pain lodged itself in your chest, growing a little each day. You couldn’t help but notice the way you were falling behind. No matter how much you tried, the sorrow still clung to you, as if you were trapped in a place where time stood still, unable to reach the same place of healing that Yuji had found.

You tried to join in, to share in his happiness, but it felt like you were on the outside looking in, a spectator in your own life. The laughter that once came so easily to you now felt forced, and every smile was tinged with a sadness you couldn’t shake.

Yuuji didn’t notice—or maybe he did, but he didn’t know how to help. He was so caught up in his new friendships, in the joy of finally finding some semblance of normalcy, that your struggles seemed to fade into the background. You didn’t blame him for it; you were glad he had found something to hold onto. But the loneliness was there, a constant reminder that while he was moving forward, you were still stuck in the past, unable to move on.

A lot of this was on you—that much you were painfully aware of. Yuuji had nothing to do with your unhappiness; he had been nothing but supportive, trying his best to bring some light back into your life. No, it was you who clung to the sorrow, who let it seep into every corner of your being until it became a part of you. You were the one at fault, wallowing in the pain because it felt like the only way to hold on to the past.

Maybe, in some twisted way, you were punishing yourself. The guilt gnawed at you, whispering that you hadn’t been a good enough granddaughter, that you had failed him in some way. And the thought of moving on, of letting go of the grief, felt like a betrayal. Because if you forgot, if you let the pain fade, what would be left of your grandfather? Wouldn’t that mean he didn’t exist anymore?

You couldn’t bear the thought. He was all you and Yuuji had, the one who had raised you, who had been your anchor in a world that often felt too chaotic to navigate alone. Clinging to him, to the pain, to the loneliness he had left behind—it felt like the only way to keep him close, to make sure he wasn’t forgotten.

You knew it wasn’t healthy, that it was holding you back while Yuuji was moving forward. But you couldn’t let go. Not yet. Not when it felt like losing him all over again. So you held on, hoping that by keeping the pain alive, you could keep a part of him with you, even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness in the process.

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YOU REALIZED THAT YOU WERE A NIGHT OWL. Because the night felt like a relief. Even if it was too loud, the night was kinder than the day. It was two sides of the coin, a mercy and a pain still, you think. The silence of the countryside was both a comfort and a torment.

The absence of city noise left space for your thoughts to swirl, allowing the grief to settle in more deeply. The memories of your grandfather, so vivid and cherished, felt both near and painfully out of reach, teasing you with their closeness yet reminding you of the distance that now separated you.

The quiet of the countryside, which had once promised peace, now seemed to amplify the emptiness left by his passing. During the day, you could distract yourself with the mundane tasks of settling into a new home, but when night fell, the stillness felt oppressive, as if the world had stopped moving just to remind you of what you’d lost.

It was a strange paradox—the night brought a certain relief, a break from the pretense of normalcy that the day demanded, but it also intensified the ache within you. The darkness was both a sanctuary and a prison, offering solace in its quiet yet refusing to let you escape the sorrow that lay just beneath the surface. In the night, you could almost feel him there, his presence lingering in the shadows, but it was a comfort tinged with the sharp pain of knowing he was gone.

The countryside, with its vast, empty spaces and endless quiet, had a way of magnifying your loneliness. What was supposed to be a balm for your grief had instead become a mirror, reflecting the void his absence had created in your life. And so, as you lay in bed, staring into the darkness, you couldn’t help but feel that the night, though kinder in some ways, also held a cruelty of its own—one that forced you to confront the depth of your loss in the silence that surrounded you.

During the day, you tried to lose yourself in the routine of university life, hoping that the distraction would somehow ease the ache. But even the familiar rhythm of lectures and assignments couldn’t drown out the emptiness that had settled within you. It was in one of these moments, as you sat quietly in the college library, as he approached you after the lecture, his usual composed expression softened by concern.

“May I ask you something?” he said, his voice low and measured. There was no judgment in his tone, only a gentle curiosity that made you nod in response.

“Why are you still here?” he asked, his gaze steady on yours. “Why are you still in university?”

The question caught you off guard. It wasn’t something you had given much thought to—not really. You had simply kept going, attending classes, completing assignments, because that’s what you were supposed to do. But now, confronted by professor Nanami Kento’s calm and earnest inquiry, you find yourself struggling to answer.

You hesitated, searching for words that didn’t come easily. “I don’t know, sensei.” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess... It's what I’ve always done. For relief….But I just….I don’t….”

Nanami nodded, as if he had expected that answer. “But is it what you want? To be here?” he asked, his tone gentle but insistent. “Or are you here because it’s easier to keep going than to stop and face what you’re really feeling?”

The honesty in his words cut through the numbness that had settled over you. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze as the truth of his question sank in. Why were you still here? Was it because you truly wanted to be, or because it was easier to bury yourself in routine than to confront the grief that was still so raw and overwhelming?

“I don’t know, sensei.” you repeated, your voice trembling now. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

Nanami didn’t push you for more. Instead, he simply stood there, offering his presence as a quiet support. “It’s okay not to know anything.” he said after a moment. “It’s okay to take time to figure it out. But don’t be afraid to ask yourself these questions. Don’t be afraid to face what’s really going on inside.”

His words lingered with you long after he had left, echoing in the silence of your room that night. For the first time, you allowed yourself to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, it was okay to pause, to question, to not have all the answers right away. Maybe it was okay to admit that you were still hurting, still lost, and that you didn’t have to have it all figured out just yet.

From what you remember, the first person to truly notice your pain was your professor in Philosophy—Nanami Kento. He was always composed, with a stern exterior that didn’t betray much emotion, but there was a kindness in his eyes that softened whenever he looked at you and Yuuji. Perhaps it was because he understood, on some level, what it was like to carry the burden of loss.

Nanami–sensei never pried, never asked questions that would force you to confront what you weren’t ready to face. But there was something in the way he looked at you, a quiet understanding that made you feel seen, even in your darkest moments. He didn’t offer empty words of comfort or try to tell you that things would get better with time. Instead, he acknowledged your pain with a simple nod or a gentle word, as if to say that it was okay to feel what you were feeling.

You often caught him watching you during lectures, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary, as if he was trying to assess how you were holding up. He’d ask you how you were doing in a way that suggested he wasn’t just asking about your academic performance but about you as a person, as someone who was grieving. His presence was steady, a quiet anchor in the storm of emotions you were struggling to navigate.

In those moments, you felt a strange sense of comfort. Nanami didn’t try to fix you, didn’t push you to move on before you were ready. He simply let you exist in your pain, offering a silent understanding that you weren’t alone in it. And though it didn’t make the nights any easier or the grief any less suffocating, it was a small comfort to know that someone else understood, that someone else had been there too.

Somehow, it was easy to see in his eyes that he had gone through something similar, and that pained him in some way. And he hated that someone were to be in a position akin to yours, in a similar conundrum so young as you were. He took it upon himself to make sure you were both doing okay, often checking in on you, offering guidance, and making sure that neither of you felt alone.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through the office window, illuminating the neat rows of books and papers that lined Nanami’s desk. The quiet hum of the air conditioner was the only sound in the room as you sat across from him, feeling the weight of your emotions as you tried to make sense of your new life.

“Nanami–sensei.” you began, your voice soft but determined, “I’ve noticed you’ve been going out of your way to check in on me. I appreciate it, really, but I can’t help but feel like there’s more to it. You seem to understand what we’re going through in a way that’s more than just professional.”

Nanami looked up from his papers, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of sadness. He leaned back in his chair, taking a moment before responding. “It’s not easy to see young people struggling with grief and loss. It brings back memories of my own experiences, of times when I had to navigate similar challenges.”

You frowned slightly, sensing the depth of his feelings. “You’ve been through something like this yourself?”

Nanami nodded, his expression reflecting the weight of past pain. “Yes. I’ve had my share of losses, and while each experience is unique, it is normal. Seeing you in such heavy burdens….I must help in that. It is my duty.”

A moment of silence passed between you, the gravity of his words settling over the room. You could see the empathy in his warm brown eyes, a deep well of understanding that went beyond mere sympathy.

“I didn’t realize you had experienced something like this, sensei.” you said quietly. “It’s comforting to know that you understand, but it’s also hard to see how much it affects you. I’m so sorry about what happened to you, sensei.”

Nanami’s gaze softened as he looked at you. “Please don’t worry. I don’t mind. And I try to keep my personal experiences separate from my role as a teacher, but sometimes it’s inevitable. I can’t help but empathize deeply with students who are struggling. If it helps you, then maybe it would make it easier on you.”

You nodded, appreciating the honesty and vulnerability he was showing. “It’s been hard for us to adjust, with everything that’s happened. I understand, sensei. But….. Your support has made a difference, even if we haven’t always known how to express it.”

Nanami offered a small, reassuring smile. “I’m glad to hear that. I want to make sure you and Yuuji know that you’re not alone in this. Sometimes, just knowing that someone cares and is willing to listen can make a difference.”

There was a sense of mutual understanding in the room, a connection forged through shared experiences and empathy. The conversation had brought a sense of clarity, revealing the depth of Nanami’s compassion and the personal struggles he had faced.

“You’ve been a source of support and I want to thank you for that.” you said, feeling a sense of gratitude. “It’s good to know that...we have someone. It's...good. That I...I have someone, sensei.”

Nanami’s expression was one of gentle encouragement. “You’re welcome. If you ever need someone to talk to or guidance as you navigate this transition, don’t hesitate to reach out. My door is always open.”

At first, it was just a relief to have someone looking out for you, someone who cared enough to notice the cracks in your armor. But as time went on, you found yourself longing for more of his attention, craving the comfort he provided. His presence was steady, reassuring, a shining new light that gave you warmth in the cold uncertainty of your new life.

Every glance, every word of encouragement, every moment spent with him, stirred something deep within you. You began to realize that it wasn’t just gratitude or respect that you felt for him. It was something more, something that made your heart race and your thoughts linger on him long after he had gone. You were falling in love with Nanami Kento, and as frightening as it was to acknowledge, it was also something you could no longer deny.

The realization that you were in love with Nanami Kento crept up on you slowly, like the dawn breaking over the quiet countryside. At first, you tried to brush it off, convincing yourself that it was just a fleeting infatuation born out of your need for comfort in a difficult time. But the more you tried to suppress those feelings, the stronger they became.

It started with the way your heart would skip a beat when he entered the room, the way your eyes would search for him in a crowd, hoping for just a brief moment of connection. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, cherishing the conversations you shared, no matter how brief. His calm demeanor, his quiet strength, the way he seemed to understand you without needing to ask too many questions—it all drew you in, making you feel safe in a world that had felt so unstable for so long.

The more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself yearning for his presence, even when he wasn’t around. You would replay your interactions in your mind, searching for hidden meanings in his words, wondering if he felt even a fraction of what you were feeling. The thought of being in love with him was both exhilarating and terrifying, a delicate balance between hope and fear.

You knew it was risky, that opening your heart to someone else meant making yourself vulnerable again, something you weren’t sure you were ready for. But the warmth you felt in Nanami’s presence, the way he made you feel like you weren’t alone in your pain, was something you couldn’t ignore. And so, despite the fear, despite the uncertainty, you allowed yourself to embrace the feelings growing inside you, no longer able to deny the truth: you were in love with Nanami Kento.

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IT FELT WRONG TO FEEL GENUINE FEELINGS FOR HIM. But you just can't help yourself. You had found something warm in your life for the first time in a long time. And you wanted to hold onto theat feeling, even just for a little while.

You found yourself looking forward to Nanami's lectures with a new sense of anticipation, one that went beyond the academic content. It wasn't just about the subject matter or the intellectual challenge; it was the way his presence seemed to anchor you in a world that often felt tumultuous.

His voice, calm and measured, had a soothing quality that cut through the noise of your internal struggles, providing a sense of stability that was both comforting and invigorating. It felt like the sun in the morning sky, greeting you with all the warmth it could offer.

Every lecture became a sanctuary of sorts, a place where the outside world faded away and all that remained was the rhythmic cadence of his speech and the depth of his insights. His voice had a way of wrapping around you like a soft blanket, offering warmth and clarity in moments of confusion. It was as if he spoke directly to your soul, providing the reassurance you craved without even realizing it.

You began to pay closer attention to the little details of his presence, each one becoming a part of the mosaic of your growing affection. You noticed how he always carried a thermos of coffee, a small but meaningful ritual that seemed to add a personal touch to his professional demeanor. It was a simple thing, but it spoke to a side of him that was both grounded and familiar, like a quiet reflection of his everyday life.

The way he adjusted his glasses when he was deep in thought fascinated you. It was a small, habitual gesture that seemed to signal his immersion in the subject, his focus and dedication to his work. In those moments, when he was lost in contemplation, you saw a different side of him—one that was entirely absorbed in the pursuit of knowledge and understanding. It was a reminder of his depth, his passion for what he did, and it drew you in further.

And then there were the rare but genuine smiles that occasionally graced his lips. These smiles were not frequent, but when they appeared, they were like fleeting glimpses of sunlight breaking through the clouds. They were unguarded and sincere, revealing a side of him that was warm and approachable. These moments were precious to you, a sign that beneath his composed exterior, there was a person who experienced joy and kindness in the midst of his professional life.

Each detail, each nuance of his behavior, seemed to create a rich tapestry that captivated you. The combination of his voice, his habits, and his rare smiles painted a portrait of someone who was both steadfast and deeply human. As you became more attuned to these subtleties, you found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn't anticipated. The more you observed, the more you appreciated the intricate layers of his character, each one adding depth to your feelings and making it even harder to keep your emotions in check.

In the quiet moments between lectures, when you would reflect on these details, you felt a growing sense of connection to him. It was as if the little things he did were speaking directly to your heart, creating a bond that was both profound and fragile. And with each passing day, the realization that you were falling for him became more undeniable, a truth that both comforted and challenged you as you navigated the complexities of your emotions.

Each day with the distance, your heart kept making a way towards Nanami–sensei, slowly weaving themselves into the fabric of your life in ways you couldn’t have anticipated. You found yourself looking forward to his classes with an eagerness that surprised you, your thoughts consumed by the anticipation of seeing him, hearing his voice, and perhaps catching one of those brief, meaningful glances that seemed to hold a world of unspoken understanding.

Your interactions with him took on a new significance. Every exchange, no matter how small, became a moment to savor. You began to notice the little things about him—the way he would adjust his tie with meticulous precision, the way his eyes softened when he spoke to you, the subtle way his lips would curve into a faint smile when you managed to make him laugh. These details became precious to you, feeding the growing affection in your heart.

But with that growing affection came a gnawing anxiety. You were all too aware of the delicate nature of your feelings, and the fear of rejection loomed large in your mind. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if your admiration was one-sided, a product of your own need for comfort and connection? The thought of losing the quiet understanding and support he offered terrified you, and so you kept your feelings hidden, tucked away in the quiet corners of your heart.

Yet, no matter how hard you tried to keep your emotions in check, they found ways to surface. You noticed that you began to linger after class, hoping for a few extra moments with him. You found yourself volunteering for tasks you knew would require his guidance, just to have an excuse to be near him. And when he asked you how you were doing, his concern evident in his voice, you felt a pang of longing so intense it nearly took your breath away.

And then, one afternoon, as you were gathering your things after class, Nanami Kento and you bumped into each other. You blinked as you stopped. When you realized who he was, you gasped and bowed. You started to apologize to him. There was a hesitation in his movements, an uncharacteristic uncertainty that made your heart race.

“I’m so sorry, Nanami-sensei. I didn’t mean it—” you stammered, your voice trembling with the weight of unsaid words. The apology slipped out before you could fully process it, driven by a fear that you had somehow crossed a line, exposing too much of yourself.

Nanami’s expression remained calm, his eyes studying you with an unreadable intensity. For a moment, you feared that you had made things awkward, that the fragile connection between you might shatter under the pressure of your emotions.

But then, with a gentleness that both surprised and reassured you, he spoke. “May I walk you to your next class?” His voice was low and steady, grounding you in the moment. But there was something else in his tone, a subtle shift that hinted at a deeper concern, a connection that went beyond the formal boundaries of teacher and student.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. The offer was simple, yet the way he framed it made it feel like more—a gesture of care, a quiet acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that had been building between you.

Unable to trust your voice, you nodded, grateful for the reprieve. Together, you fell into step, the silence between you heavy with unsaid thoughts, yet comforting in its familiarity.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but wonder if Nanami sensed the turmoil within you, if he understood the depth of what you had tried to keep hidden. And as the campus buzzed quietly around you, the world outside seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in a moment suspended in time.

Finally, he spoke, his voice breaking the silence with a gentleness that caught you off guard. “You seem... different lately.” he said, his words careful, as if he was treading on fragile ground. “Is everything alright?”

The concern in his voice was genuine, and it took everything in you to hold back the flood of emotions that his words triggered. You wanted to tell him everything, to pour out your heart and confess the feelings that had been building inside you for so long. But the fear held you back, kept your words locked away.

“I’m okay, sensei.” you managed to say, though your voice wavered with the effort of holding back. “It’s just... a lot to adjust to, I guess.”

He nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a question left unasked, and you wondered if he knew—if he could see the turmoil in your heart.

“You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” he said after a moment, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “Whatever it is you’re going through... you can talk to me.”

His words were a lifeline, and for a moment, you were tempted to grab hold, to let yourself be vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be since your grandfather’s passing. But the fear of what might happen if you did—if you let him see how deeply you had fallen for him—kept you silent.

Instead, you offered him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Nanami-sensei. That means a lot.”

He nodded, his eyes searching yours for a moment longer before he looked away, the moment passing as quickly as it had come. But even as the silence returned, you couldn’t help but feel that something had changed between you.

Yuuji, ever the perceptive brother, began to pick up on the changes in you with his usual blend of curiosity and teasing. He’d comment on your newfound enthusiasm for school, his tone lighthearted and playful.

“Wow, someone’s really getting into their classes these days.” he’d say, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Are you trying to impress a certain someone?”

But behind his teasing, there was always a hint of concern in his eyes. He knew you well enough to sense when something was amiss, even if you were trying your best to mask it. The bond between you and Yuuji has always been strong, built on shared experiences and mutual support. Now, with only the two of you facing the world, his worry for you was palpable.

You were acutely aware of his concern, but discussing your feelings for Nanami–sensei felt like navigating a minefield. It was a topic too delicate, too intricate to lay bare. The emotions you were grappling with were still forming, shifting and evolving in ways you couldn’t fully articulate. The fear of misunderstanding, the potential for things to become awkward or strained, made it almost impossible to open up to Yuuji about it.

So you chose to keep your feelings close, wrapped in the quiet spaces of your heart. Whenever Yuuji’s concern for you surfaced, you would offer a reassuring smile and change the subject, deflecting his probing questions with practiced ease.

“Just trying to find my footing, bro.” you’d say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “You know how it is, trying to make the most of a new start.”

“You sure?” He asks you, a warm concern in his eyes.

You smiled at him. “I do. I’m fine. Really.”

Yuuji would accept your evasions with a nod, his worry temporarily set aside as he shifted his focus to lighter matters. But you could see the question in his eyes, the unspoken concern that lingered even as he attempted to mask it with humor.

In your heart, you appreciated his concern more than you could express. But the feelings you had for Nanami remained a private struggle, something you needed to work through on your own before you could even begin to share it with anyone, even Yuuji. For now, you hold onto the fragile hope that, in time, you would find a way to navigate your emotions, to understand them and perhaps, one day, to share them without fear.

As you continued to go through your days, the quiet moments with Nanami remained a solace and a source of intense longing. His presence in your life was a beacon, guiding you through the uncertainty of your new surroundings. And though you struggled with the weight of your feelings, you found a measure of comfort in knowing that he was there, a constant, reassuring presence in the midst of the turmoil.

Your interactions with Nanami–sensei became the highlights of your day. You’d catch his gaze during class, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world faded away. There were times when he’d linger after class, asking if you and Yuuji were settling in okay, if you needed anything. His concern felt genuine, and every time he spoke to you, you felt a warmth spreading through your chest.

But with that warmth came uncertainty. Nanami was your sensei, a mentor figure, someone who had taken on the role of a protector for you and your brother. The lines between student and teacher, between gratitude and affection, were blurring in ways that scared you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he could ever see you as anything more than just a student or a young person in need of guidance.

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself drawn to him more and more, despite your best efforts to keep your emotions in check. There were moments when you thought you caught something in his eyes, a softness that made you wonder if he might feel something too. But those moments were fleeting, gone before you could fully grasp them.

Still, the longing grew, becoming an ache that you couldn’t ignore. You yearned for more than just his care and concern; you wanted to be closer to him, to know him beyond the walls of the classroom. But the fear of rejection, of ruining the fragile bond you had with him, kept you silent.

The conflict within you was a constant companion, as you tried to navigate your feelings while maintaining the façade of normalcy. You knew that falling in love with Nanami was risky, that it could lead to heartache, but your heart seemed to have a mind of its own, pushing you toward him despite the potential consequences.

You lingered in the classroom long after the other students had left, your movements slow and deliberate as you packed your bag. The quiet of the room was comforting, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts in your mind. Yuuji had already gone off to his club activities, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and with Nanami.

As you reached for your bag, you felt a pair of eyes on you, an almost tangible weight that drew your gaze. Glancing up, you saw Nanami watching you from his desk, his expression thoughtful, a subtle crease forming between his brows.

His eyes, usually so composed and distant, now held a depth that seemed to reflect his internal contemplation. The warmth of his gaze made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, the world around you felt like it had narrowed to just the two of you.

You could feel the pull of his attention, the way it lingered on you with a quiet intensity. It was as if he was searching for something, trying to understand a part of you that you hadn’t yet revealed. The weight of his gaze was both comforting and unnerving, a silent conversation that spoke volumes.

Trying to steady yourself, you offered him a tentative smile, hoping it would convey the reassurance you struggled to articulate. But his eyes remained fixed on you, and you wondered what thoughts were running through his mind.

“You’re still here this late.” he said, his voice gentle in the stillness. “Everything alright?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to put your feelings into words. “Yeah, I just… needed a moment to myself.”

Nanami nodded, rising from his chair and walking over to you. He stopped a few feet away, leaning casually against the desk beside you, his arms crossed. Despite his composed demeanor, there was something warm in his gaze, something that made your heart flutter.

“It’s been a lot to adjust to, hasn’t it?” he said, his voice low and steady. “A new town, new school, after everything that’s happened.”

You looked down, your fingers nervously playing with the strap of your bag. “Yeah, it has. But… having you here has helped. More than you know, sensei.”

There was a pause, and when you dared to look up, you saw that his expression had softened even more. The usual sternness in his eyes was gone, replaced by a gentleness that made your breath catch.

“I’m glad I could help you.” Nanami replied quietly. He uncrossed his arms, his hand almost reaching out to you before he stopped himself, letting it fall to his side. “You have been through a lot. It’s only natural to need support.”

You felt a lump form in your throat. The way he spoke, the concern in his voice—it was all too much, and yet not enough. You wanted to say more, to tell him how much his presence meant to you, how much you looked forward to these moments alone with him. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, your heart pounding in your chest.

Nanami Kento seemed to sense your inner turmoil. He stepped a little closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “If there’s anything you need, anything at all, you know you can come to me, right?”

The sincerity in his voice, the closeness of his presence—it made something inside you ache. You wanted so badly to close the distance between you, to feel his arms around you, to find comfort in his embrace. But you knew you couldn’t. Not yet.

“I know, sensei.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Thank you… for everything.”

He smiled then, a small, rare smile that sent warmth flooding through you. “You don’t have to thank me. Just… take care of yourself. And your brother Yuuji, too. He seems like a good young man too.”

You nodded again, but as you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but glance back at him one last time. He was still watching you, that same gentle look in his eyes, and you knew then that your feelings were undeniable.

As you walked out of the classroom, your heart felt heavier with the weight of your unspoken emotions, but there was also a small, flickering hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that Nanami could feel the same way.

But even then, you were acutely aware of your limitations and the vast knowledge gap that existed between you and Nanami. He was older, more experienced, a man who had seen and done so much more than you could even imagine. It wasn’t just his age or his wisdom that set him apart—it was the way he carried himself, with a quiet confidence and a sense of purpose that you found both admirable and intimidating.

As much as you were drawn to him, a part of you couldn’t help but doubt whether your feelings could ever be returned. You were still so young, barely stepping into adulthood, while Nanami had long since found his place in the world. What could someone like him possibly see in you? The thought lingered in the back of your mind, a constant reminder of the distance between you.

And then there was the fear—the fear that he might not like you in the way you hoped. He was kind to you, yes, and he looked out for you and Yuuji with a care that went beyond mere duty. But did that kindness stem from affection, or was it simply his nature to protect those who needed it? You didn’t know, and the uncertainty gnawed at you.

The truth was, you couldn’t see how he would ever reciprocate your feelings. He was your professor, a mentor figure, someone who had taken on the role of a guardian in your life. To him, you were just a student, someone who needed guidance and support, not a romantic partner. And yet, despite all your doubts and fears, you couldn’t stop the way your heart leapt whenever you were near him.

The rational part of you tried to suppress those feelings, to remind yourself of the unlikelihood of anything ever happening between you. But the heart has a way of ignoring logic, and yours had latched onto Nanami in a way that was becoming impossible to ignore. You were in love with him, even if you couldn’t say it aloud, even if you didn’t think he could ever feel the same way.

So, you kept those feelings locked away, hidden behind polite smiles and carefully chosen words. It was safer that way, less painful than risking rejection. But even as you tried to push your emotions aside, you knew that they were there, just beneath the surface, waiting for the slightest opportunity to break free.

After a particularly long day of classes, you and Yuuji walked home together under the fading light of the setting sun. His friends were going to be busy tonight, so you were able to go home together. He insisted to help you with your school bag, but you kept insisting that it was fine. Yet, he was your older brother (by four minutes) and had pulled that card and carried your bag for you anyway.

The countryside was quiet, the only sounds being the crunch of gravel beneath your shoes and the distant chirping of crickets. Yuuji had been unusually quiet, and you could feel his eyes on you every now and then, as if he was trying to gauge something. Finally, as you neared your home, he spoke up.

"Hey, you’ve been acting kinda different lately." Yuuji said, his tone light but tinged with concern. "Is everything okay?"

You glanced at him, caught off guard by his sudden observation. "Different? What do you mean?"

Yuuji shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I don’t know. You just seem… I don’t know, distracted? Like your mind’s somewhere else. I noticed you’ve been staying late at school a lot too."

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks and quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice. "It’s nothing, really. Just trying to keep up with everything, I guess."

But Yuuji wasn’t so easily convinced. He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. "It’s more than that, isn’t it? You know you can talk to me, right? We’re in this together."

There was no escaping it now. You sighed, knowing that Yuuji wasn’t going to let this go. "It’s just… there’s a lot on my mind. And yeah, I’ve been thinking about someone."

Yuuji raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Someone? Like who?"

You hesitated, the words stuck in your throat. Finally, you admitted, "It’s Nanami-sensei."

Yuuji blinked, processing this information. "Nanami-sensei? Our professor Nanami? Who’s like… way older than you?"

You winced at the bluntness of his words. "Yeah, I know. It’s not exactly… ideal."

Yuuji softened, realizing that this was something you were struggling with. "Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I just… didn’t expect it, that’s all. I mean, he’s a good guy, but… you really like him, don’t you?"

You nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety at finally saying it out loud. "I do. But it’s complicated, Yuuji. He’s older....and I don’t even know if he’d ever see me that way....I doubt it. I feel like I’m just setting myself up for disappointment. And it’s not…It’s not right. There’s so much wrong with it. I know.”

Yuuji frowned, deep in thought. "That’s a tough spot to be in. But you know, Nanami-sensei seems to care about you a lot. He’s always checking in on you, making sure you’re okay. Maybe there’s more there than you think."

You shook your head, the doubts creeping back in. "Or maybe he’s just being kind because he knows we’ve been through a lot. It’s not like he’d ever look at me the way I look at him. It’s….It’s wrong.”

Yuuji placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and grounding. “Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, it doesn’t mean you’re not worth it. You deserve to feel some happiness. Even if you never say it to him. Even if you don’t act on it, it’s how you feel. Wrong or right, it’s still human feelings, isn’t it?”

“I just… What should I do? It’s going to be bad, Yuuji. I don’t want to do things that would be bad for me and especially for Nanami-sensei. Over my childish feelings.”

Yuuji’s expression softened, his eyes filled with a mix of empathy and determination. “Listen, it’s not about being childish. Feelings are complicated and real, and they don’t just go away because we want them to. What matters is how you handle them.”

He paused, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe the best thing you can do right now is to take things one step at a time. Figure out what’s best without rushing or putting yourself in a difficult position."

You listened, trying to absorb his words. They offered a sense of perspective, a reminder that navigating your feelings didn’t have to be an all-or-nothing endeavor. Yuuji’s encouragement made you feel less isolated in your struggle, less like you were facing this alone.

“Thanks, bro.” you said quietly, your voice carrying the weight of both gratitude and the lingering uncertainty. “I guess I just need to give myself a bit more grace, and maybe, take a step back to really understand what’s best.”

Yuuji nodded, a reassuring smile on his face. “Exactly. Give yourself the space to figure things out, and don’t be too hard on yourself. Emotions are messy, and that’s okay, hm?”

You looked at him, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thanks, Yuuji. I really needed to hear that."

He grinned, giving you a playful nudge. "What are brothers for? Besides, I kinda want to see how this turns out."

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing slightly. For now, the future was still uncertain, but at least you knew you had Yuuji by your side, no matter what happened next. And maybe, he was all you needed. Because at the end of the day, you know how it will all work out. How it will all end. But you let yourself dream anyway.

You were idealistic, often finding yourself lost in daydreams where you would gather the courage to approach Nanami. In those fantasies, you imagined asking him for patience, telling him that one day, when the time was right, you would be ready to offer your love completely. You pictured yourself standing before him, your heart in your hands, promising that with time, you could bridge the gap between your worlds.

But deep down, you knew this was nothing more than romantic idealism—a longing to experience a love that felt as profound as the feelings you harbored for him. The desire to be seen, to be cherished by someone as steadfast and admirable as Nanami Kento, was powerful, but it was also grounded in a reality you couldn’t ignore.

As much as you wanted to believe that your love could transcend the differences between you, there was a part of you that understood the truth. You were too young, too inexperienced, and no matter how much you grew, there would always be a gap that time alone couldn’t close. Nanami–sensei wasn’t just older—he was wiser, more grounded, and had already lived through phases of life that you had yet to experience.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that he likely wouldn’t want to love someone younger, someone who was still finding their place in the world. His kindness toward you, his care and concern, came from a place of responsibility, not from the kind of romantic interest you wished for. You knew that he saw you as a student, maybe even as someone who needed guidance, but not as an equal partner in love.

This understanding brought with it a quiet, bittersweet resignation. You loved Nanami, perhaps more than you ever thought you could love anyone, but you knew that he wasn’t the one for you. The future you imagined, where you and Nanami could be together, was a beautiful dream, but it was just that—a dream.

As much as it hurt to admit, you knew you had to let go of that dream, to accept that some things, no matter how deeply you wished for them, weren’t meant to be.

The days that followed were a mix of emotions—moments where you felt determined to move on, followed by others where your heart clung stubbornly to the hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. But as time passed, reality became harder to ignore, and you found yourself slowly coming to terms with the truth.

You still admired Nanami–sensei, still cared for him deeply, but you began to see him in a different light. Instead of focusing on the impossible, you tried to appreciate what you did have—a mentor who genuinely cared for your well-being, someone who had guided you through a difficult period of your life. It wasn’t the romantic love you had dreamed of, but it was something valuable, something that had shaped you in ways you hadn’t fully understood before.

In your quieter moments, when you were alone with your thoughts, you allowed yourself to grieve the loss of that dream. It was painful to let go, but you knew it was necessary. Holding on to something that could never be would only cause more heartache in the long run.

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HE KNOWS THAT HE’S NOT A GOOD MAN. Because what good man can feel like this? Nanami Kento had always prided himself on his ability to maintain control, to keep a clear head no matter the situation. It was a skill honed through years of experience, of facing the harsh realities of life and coming out on the other side with a firm grip on his emotions. But lately, that control had begun to slip, and it all started with you.

At first, he dismissed the subtle changes in his behavior as nothing more than his natural inclination to look after those who needed guidance. You and Yuuji had been through a lot, and it was only right that he, as your teacher, offered support where he could. But as the days turned into weeks, he couldn’t ignore the way his thoughts kept drifting back to you—your quiet resilience, your gentle smiles, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about something you were passionate about.

It wasn’t long before he realized the truth: he was growing attached to you in ways that went far beyond the boundaries of a student-teacher relationship. It was a realization that troubled him deeply, shaking the foundations of the discipline he had built his life upon.

Nanami noticed the way your eyes lingered on him, the subtle shifts in your demeanor whenever you were around him. He wasn’t blind to the affection you tried so hard to keep hidden, the way you seemed to seek out his presence, even if only for a few moments of conversation. There were times when he almost allowed himself to reciprocate, to let his guard down and acknowledge the feelings that were steadily growing in his chest.

But each time, he pulled back, reminding himself of the stark reality of your situation. You were young, with your whole life ahead of you, full of potential and promise. You deserve someone who could match your energy, someone who could grow with you, not someone like him—someone who had already been worn down by the world, who had seen and done things he wished he could forget.

It wasn’t fair to you, he thought, to burden you with the affections of a man who had lost his youth, who had seen too much to ever be truly carefree again. You deserved more than what he could offer, and the thought of tainting your bright future with the shadows of his past was unbearable.

So, Nanami Kento buried his feelings deep inside, locking them away where they couldn’t hurt you—or him. He told himself that it was the right thing to do, that maintaining a professional distance was the only way to protect you both. But no matter how hard he tried, those feelings remained, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to break free at the slightest provocation.

There were moments when he questioned his resolve, when the weight of his own emotions threatened to overwhelm him. But each time, he steeled himself, knowing that this was a line he couldn’t cross. He cared too much about you to allow himself to be selfish, to act on feelings that could only lead to pain and regret.

In the end, Nanami chose to distance himself, subtly at first, hoping you wouldn’t notice. He still checked in on you, still offered his guidance when you needed it, but he made sure to keep a barrier between you, a wall that kept his emotions firmly in check. It was agonizing, knowing that he was pushing away something that could have been beautiful, but he knew it was the only way to ensure that you remained unscathed by the harsh realities of his world.

You were too precious, too full of life, to be drawn into the darkness that he carried with him. And so, Nanami resolved to watch over you from afar, to be the steady presence you could rely on, but never more than that. It was his duty, his responsibility, to protect you—not just from the dangers of the world, but from himself as well.

No matter how much it hurt, no matter how strong his feelings for you became, Nanami knew he had to bury them deep, where they would never see the light of day. It was the only way to ensure that you remained untouched by the shadows of his past, free to find a love that was worthy of you, even if that love could never be his.

Nanami Kento had been wrestling with his emotions in solitude, believing that burying his feelings was the only way to protect you from the shadows of his past. It was a decision made with the utmost care, a sacrifice he felt necessary to ensure your happiness. But his internal struggle did not go unnoticed by his colleagues, Gojo Satoru and Shoko Ieiri, who were perceptive enough to sense that something was troubling their friend.

One evening, after a particularly challenging day, Gojo and Shoko decided to check in on Nanami. They found him in the teachers’ lounge, sitting alone with a cup of tea, his expression distant. Gojo, ever the perceptive one, noted the pensive look on Nanami’s face and exchanged a glance with Shoko before approaching him.

“Hey, Nanami!” Gojo greeted, his tone casual but with an underlying concern. “You’ve been a bit off lately. Everything okay?”

Nanami looked up, masking his emotions with a practiced smile. “Just a lot on my mind. Nothing to worry about.”

Shoko, who had been quietly observing, took a seat beside him. “It’s clear something’s bothering you. You don’t have to go through this alone, you know.”

Nanami’s smile faltered, and he sighed deeply, feeling the weight of his hidden feelings press heavily on him. “I appreciate your concern. It’s just… some feelings are better left buried.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Feelings, huh? Sounds like there’s more to it than just a heavy workload.”

Nanami hesitated before speaking, his voice low. “I’ve been trying to protect someone from my own shortcomings. It’s not fair for them to be burdened with my past, my complexities.”

Shoko’s eyes softened with understanding. “It sounds like you’re talking about… someone important. Someone who means a lot to you.”

Nanami nodded, his gaze fixed on his tea. “Yes, someone who deserves better than what I can offer. It’s better this way.”

Gojo, always one to push boundaries, leaned forward, his expression serious. “Nanami, it’s okay to feel like love is unattainable. It’s okay to have feelings and to struggle with them. But don’t forget that you’re human too. You deserve happiness, even if it’s complicated. And even if you don’t act on it. Feeling it is not wrong.”

Shoko nodded in agreement, her voice gentle but firm. “You’ve been carrying this burden alone, trying to shield someone else from your own pain. But it’s important to acknowledge your own feelings, to give yourself permission to be vulnerable. Especially for this person.”

Nanami looked between them, feeling a mix of gratitude and frustration. “But what if my feelings could only cause more harm? What if being honest means jeopardizing their well-being? I know it will.”

Gojo shook his head, a small smile forming. “Sometimes, it’s not about whether your feelings will cause harm. It’s about being true to yourself and giving yourself the chance to experience what you deserve. Love isn’t always straightforward, and it’s not always fair. But it’s part of the human experience. Acted on or not, it’s what it is, isn’t it?”

Shoko reached out, placing a comforting hand on Nanami’s shoulder. “You’ve done so much for others. It’s time to think about yourself too. It’s okay to be vulnerable, to let yourself feel and to hope for something more, even if it feels unattainable.”

Nanami’s gaze softened, and he looked down at his hands, the weight of their words sinking in. “I’ve been so focused on protecting them, on making sure they don’t suffer because of me. I didn’t realize how much I’ve neglected my own needs.”

Gojo smiled, his tone light but encouraging. “We all have our struggles. It’s part of being human. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. You have friends who care about you, who want you to be happy.”

Shoko gave him a reassuring nod. “And it’s okay to take steps towards finding your own happiness, even if it means confronting difficult feelings. Even if you don’t think it will be reality. You deserve a chance to experience love, just as much as anyone else.”

Nanami took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. “Thank you. It’s good to hear that. I’ve been so focused on the right thing to do that I forgot about what I need.”

Nanami had been immersed in his work that day, focusing on grading papers and preparing for upcoming lectures. He had anticipated a quiet day, free from the usual flurry of students and administrative tasks. It was your day off from school—a rare break for you to focus on your thesis, and he had expected you to be busy with your academic responsibilities.

Yet, as the hours ticked by, Nanami couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He had noticed a subtle change in your demeanor over the past week, an undercurrent of sadness that was difficult to ignore. He had hoped you’d find solace in your time away from school, but now, the thought of you potentially seeking him out was unsettling.

When he heard the knock on his office door, he glanced up with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He wasn’t expecting you to be here today, not when you had so much on your plate. The sound of the knock was soft but persistent, and it made him pause, his thoughts drifting from his work to the possibility of seeing you.

You stood outside his office, your heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and determination. The past week had been particularly rough—filled with long nights and overwhelming emotions. The weight of your feelings for Nanami, combined with the challenge of coming to terms with them, had left you feeling both vulnerable and resolute. You had been wrestling with your emotions, trying to find a way to move forward, but it was proving more difficult than you had anticipated.

The hallway was quiet, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only sound that accompanied your thoughts. You had wrestled with the decision to come here, weighing the need for closure against the fear of complicating things further. Yet, the idea of not expressing your feelings and finding some resolution gnawed at you, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to face the uncertainty head-on. You lifted your hand and knocked again, this time with more resolve. The sound echoed through the hallway, signaling your intent to have a conversation that had been on your mind for days.

Inside the office, Nanami’s thoughts were interrupted by the knock. He stood up, smoothing his jacket, and approached the door. When he opened it, he was met with the sight of you standing there, looking both determined and apprehensive.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm despite the surprise and concern he felt.

You looked up at him, a mix of anxiety and resolve in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I know it’s my day off, but… I needed to talk to you.”

Nanami stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter. “Of course. Come in.”

You entered his office, feeling the comforting, yet intimidating, presence of the space that had been a backdrop to many of your interactions. The room was orderly, with neatly arranged papers and a sense of calm that contrasted with the storm of emotions you were feeling.

As you settled into a chair, Nanami took his place behind his desk, his gaze steady and attentive. “What’s on your mind?”

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing against your resolve. “I’ve been struggling with my feelings for you. It’s been difficult to process, and I realized that I need some closure. I thought it might help if I talked to you about it.”

Nanami listened, his expression a mix of empathy and sadness. He had been preparing for this conversation, though not in the way he had hoped. The feelings he had tried so hard to suppress now seemed to rise to the surface, as he saw the vulnerability in your eyes.

“It’s not easy to hear.” Nanami said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “And it’s even harder to find the right words. I’ve been trying to navigate this situation carefully, but I realize now that you deserve more than just silence.”

You looked up at him, finding his smile to be tinged with a deep sadness that made your heart ache. Nanami crossed his arms, his gaze meeting yours with a weight of unspoken emotions.

“Most of all, my little one….” he continued, his voice steady but filled with a profound melancholy. “You deserve better than an old, unpassionate man like me.”

The words hung in the air between you, a painful truth that cut through the space. His admission, though gentle, was laced with a somber acknowledgment of the reality that had become so clear. It was as if he was trying to shield you from the hurt of unfulfilled expectations while grappling with his own feelings of inadequacy.

You could see the strain in his eyes, the conflict of wanting to comfort you while also maintaining the boundaries he felt were necessary. It was a moment of raw honesty, one that left you with a deep sense of both empathy and sorrow.

The room seemed to hold its breath as Nanami's words settled between you. His gaze remained steady, but there was an undeniable vulnerability in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities that had become apparent.

You swallowed hard, the weight of his confession pressing heavily on you. “I didn’t come here expecting an easy answer, or my feelings to be returned, sensei.” you said softly, trying to steady your voice. “I just needed to express what I’ve been feeling and to understand where we stand.”

Nanami nodded, his expression a mixture of relief and sadness. “I appreciate your courage in coming forward. It’s not easy to confront these feelings, especially when the outcome is uncertain.”

There was a pause as you both took a moment to absorb the gravity of the conversation. Nanami leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on the desk as if trying to ground himself in the face of his emotions.

“I want you to know that my feelings for you are genuine. Even if they're not what should be. But I also understand that the situation we’re in is far from ideal. It’s not just about what I want but what’s best for you. What you need matters more than what I want.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill. “I understand. I really do. It’s just… hard to accept that something so strong and real can’t find a way to work out.”

Nanami’s gaze softened, and he reached out, resting his hand gently on top of yours. The contact was brief but comforting, a silent gesture of support and understanding.

“It’s difficult, and it’s painful. But sometimes, love means making choices that are hard and painful for the sake of someone else’s well–being. Love is letting go, too. And I believe that’s what I need to do now. Because if my love for you is true, then I would let you go. And let you live a life that you deserve, hm?”

You nodded, feeling the sting of his words but also the clarity they brought. “Thank you for being honest with me. I guess I needed to hear this, to understand where we really stand. To…to have closure.”

Nanami offered a sad smile, one that seemed to carry the weight of his own regrets and hopes for you. “I hope you find someone who can truly cherish you for who you are. You deserve someone who can give you the kind of love and support that I might not be able to offer.”

The finality of his words hung in the air, and you could sense the depth of his feelings—both for you and the situation you found yourselves in. As you stood up to leave, you felt a sense of bittersweet closure, a recognition of the reality that had to be faced.

“Take care of yourself, little one.” Nanami said softly as you made your way to the door. ”I hope you'll always be happy."

You offered him a small, grateful smile, a mixture of sadness and appreciation in your eyes. “Thank you, Nanami–sensei. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As you stepped out of his office, the weight of the conversation settled heavily on your shoulders. But along with the heaviness, there was also a sense of resolution. You had faced your feelings head-on, and though the outcome wasn’t what you had hoped for, you felt a renewed sense of clarity and a readiness to move forward.

Nanami Kento watched you go, his heart heavy but his mind clear. He hoped, more than anything, that you would find the happiness and love that you deserved, even if it was not with him. He'd have to leave soon. He thinks that it would be better, if he keeps his distance from now on. You do not need him anymore. And that's for the best.

And as the door closed behind you, he allowed himself a moment of reflection, grappling with the bittersweet nature of his own emotions and the hope that, in time, both of you would find a path that led to fulfillment and peace.

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