#if she's not acting like this after talking to you forget about it

[slutoru1207]

JEALOUS!READER DISTANCING THEMSELVES FROM MARK BECAUSE OF EVE 

Headcanons as requested <333

—Because sometimes, it’s not about not trusting him… it’s about feeling like maybe, just maybe, you’re not enough.

How It Starts

It’s not one thing that makes you feel insecure—it’s a bunch of little moments that start adding up.

The way Mark and Eve seem to understand each other so easily. The way they talk about things you can’t relate to— superhero stuff, childhood memories, shared experiences you weren’t there for.

The way she leans into him when she laughs. The way he never pulls away.

You know they’re just friends, and you know Mark loves you, but… sometimes, it’s hard not to feel like an outsider.

You Start Pulling Away

It’s not on purpose—at first.

You stop texting him as much. Stop reaching for his hand. Stop kissing him first.

You don’t want to be needy or clingy. You don’t want to be the one holding him back.

Maybe he’d be happier with someone who just… gets him more.

So, you give him space.

Mark Notices… Eventually

At first, he doesn’t think much of it.

But then, he realizes—

You’re not calling him ‘baby’ like you used to.

You’re not touching him.

You’re quieter. You don’t argue back when he teases you.

When he kisses you, you smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

And worst of all? You don’t come to him first anymore.

That’s when it hits him. Something’s wrong.

The Confrontation (Because He’s Had Enough)

He doesn’t waste time dancing around it.

One second, you’re avoiding eye contact, pretending everything is fine, and the next—

"Okay. What’s wrong?"

His voice is firm. Unyielding.

You shake your head. "Nothing’s wrong, Mark."

"Bullshit."

He steps closer, eyes dark with frustration. "You’ve been acting different for weeks. And don’t tell me you haven’t, because I know you. So, tell me—"

His hands cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks, voice dropping softer.

"What’s wrong, sweetheart?"

The Breakdown

You try to hold it in, but his concern, his genuine worry, makes it impossible.

"It’s just—" Your throat tightens. "I see you with Eve, and I feel like… like I’m just this extra person in your life."

His brows furrow, hurt flashing in his expression. "What? Baby, no—"

"She knows you so well. She understands everything you’ve been through, and I—" You swallow. "I don’t."

His hands tighten on you, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. "You do understand me. You’re—God, you’re everything to me."

"But she—"

"I don’t want her. I want you."

Reassurance + Making It Up to You

He hates that you felt this way for even a second.

He hates that you thought you weren’t enough.

So, he makes sure you never forget how much you mean to him.

Pulling you into his arms, holding you tight like he never wants to let go.

Whispering soft, desperate reassurances into your ear.

"I love you. I only want you."

"I don’t care how much history I have with Eve. My future? It’s with you."

And after that?

More affection. He keeps reaching for you first—holding your hand, pulling you into his lap, kissing you like he’s making up for lost time.

More words. He starts telling you, every single day, how much he loves you, how much you mean to him.

More you and him. Less group hangouts, more one-on-one time, just the two of you.

Because at the end of the day—Eve is just his past.

[maimura]

i read this at 2am ( anything for a lili fic tbhhhh ) and now i’m FINALLY writing a reblog for this 😆 !!! i am actually really glad that i ended up reading this like six hours from now because i LOVE childhood friends to lovers . and i feel like jaehyun is just so perfect for this ++ the little spin lili added was really nice SO spoilers ahead ^^

SO the beginning was really cute 💔 i just love a good heartfelt and adorable moment and to just start it off with that is PERFECTION ! ( but then again… u know thats going to hurt later on . )

LIKE LITERALLY AFTER THAT WE GET A “what if… i won’t be here tomorrow?” LIKE OH. OH OKAY. ALREADY PUTTING THE DAGGER THROUGH MY CHEST. already knew what was going to happen after that and still reading it happen… ESP WHEN Y/N LITERALLY WENTTTT TO HIS HOUSE 💔 that hurt even more… like…. why did i have to hear from somebody else that you moved when you could’ve told me 💔

AND THEY FREAKING DID THE PINKY PROMISE guys … its such a little thing to say / action to do but i always seem to still take promises to heart LMAOOO so yes … we take promises seriously over here … and when they finally meet again and jaehyun not remembering… THAT WAS SAD ?

like you can tell y/n is simply just not trying to make it obvious that she knows him, however you can see that its still on her mind during the interactions with him… AND YOU DONT EVEN KNOW IF YOU SHOULD ACT MAD BC JAEHYUN IS STILL SO SWEET

and when y/n got him things that he liked / say things that they only knew… just to see if he remembers or not…. bye that stings bc this girl just wants to know if he really did forget her 💔💔 like while reading i genuinely thought this guy just simply forgot and was waiting for them to get along as in like a fresh restart .. AND THEN HE JUST CALLED HER THE SAME NICKNAME HE DID IN THEIR CHILDHOOD. BOYYYY WHY IS HE PLAYING WITH US RIGHT NOWWWW

lwk that was valid for y/n to get upset because… why are we acting like we don’t know each other when i’ve done things from our childhood that WE should know and you’re still acting like im someone new 💔 AND LIKE ESP WHEN SHE CONFRONTED HIM ABOUT IT… AND HES STILL TRYING TO LIE LIKE PLEASEEE DROP IT 💔💔

but he didn’t 💔 and then shinyu came into the picture… GUYS (one of) MY BND BIAS AND MY TWS BIAS YOOOOO . this is My destiny…. LMAO BUT i love the sweet bond between them and jaehyun noticing them sharing that bond instead of it being her and him…

like yeah jaehyun why would lie and set yourself up 💔 do we see the consquences of your actions (jkjk) but regardless, i’m glad he ended up actually had always remembered and he was just too committed to the act due to fear ( BOY 💔💔💔💔 ) AND THEN THE SCENE WHERE JAEHYUN WAS SERENADING HER OOOOOOOOUHHHHHH THATS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUTTTT

ugh they are so cute . LIKE AND THEY KISSED TOO OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUSSSSSSS THIS IS THE ENDING WE WISHED FOR 😝😝😝😝 ( im sorry shinyu 💔 ) this is the sweetest ending yet Yes i am gracefully taking this.

THANK YOU LILI FOR WRITING THIS BANGER AND DEDICATING IT TO ME 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 you are spared…. This time ☺️❤️‍🩹 !! im glad i stayed up a little bit longer to read this <3

　ᅠ ✿　ᅠ REWIND TO YOU 　　────　ᅠ ( myung jaehyun )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀your reunion with one of the most important people in your life, myung jaehyun, was not like what you hoped for at all. instead of a heartwarming session of two best friends meeting each other after a decade of lost contact, you’re facing a person who seemed to forget a meaningful childhood spent together, like it meant nothing at all.

　　　ᅠ 명재현 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 shy!reader ⠀wc 14.6k ⠀ genre fluff angst childhood friends to lovers high school au ⠀ contains mentions of food skinship random ocs some bnd members and shinyu ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net , @onedoornet

　　　ᅠ 　　　ᅠ BEST ENJOYED WITH .. l i f e i s c o o l by boynextdoor, amnesia by boynextdoor, in bloom by zerobaseone, teenage dream by stephen dawes, unfinished business by neriah, if i say i love you by boynextdoor, old with you by grentperez, but you by ikon & serenade by boynextdoor

　　　ᅠ note ᅠ from ᅠ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈 ! ᅠ i hope all of you enjoy this spin i made out of the usual childhood friends to lovers trope! and soph.. i dedicate this to you (Pls Spare me), and if you ask, yes i will dedicate every single leehan and myungjae fic to my wifey!

　　　ᅠ ＞︿ 　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

 “I HATE YOU, MYUNG JAEHYUN!”

Your screams echoed through the playground, accompanied by Jaehyun’s loud giggles. You took a deep breath as you chased him around, your hair flying behind you. Jaehyun had ‘cheated’ when the two of you were playing hide and seek a few minutes ago—he went on asking around the other kids if they had seen you. And one of the stupider kids did tell him that he saw you inside the slide. 

Jaehyun was quickly out of breath as he was laughing his heart out while running, and you caught up to him pretty quickly. You launched yourself at him, tackling him to the ground. You hit his chest several times, pouting. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Jaehyun said, blocking your hits. His laughter died down, but that insufferable grin was still glued to his face. He was obviously loving all the attention he’s getting from his best friend—even though she’s sitting on top of him, sulkily pinning him to the ground. 

“It’s unfair,” you huffed. You eventually stopped hitting him, but you were still a little upset. How could Jaehyun win, especially by cheating?

“I’m sorry, Sunshine,” he said, his dreadful smirk morphing into a small yet soft smile. “You’re just too good at hide-and-seek.”

“That doesn’t mean you can cheat,” you replied, a pout still evident in your expressions. 

Jaehyun pursed his lips, and for a while, he stayed silent—the gears in his brain working to think of a solution for you. “What about this—let’s go to the convenience store and buy some Pepero or whatever you want. It’s on me!”

You couldn’t stop a smile from erupting on your face. The key to your heart was the simplest thing in the entire world: food, and Jaehyun knew this—and he often used this fact to its fullest potential. It didn’t really help that he’s your best friend, too, so he clearly knew what your favourites were. You weren’t exactly complaining, though. Jaehyun liked to tease you, and as compensation for making you a little pouty, he’d buy or offer you some food.

A win-win situation for seven-year-olds.

“Okay!” you agreed cheerfully. 

And that’s how you found yourself, happily munching on Pepero and chocolate churro chips on the way back to the playground from the store. Jaehyun walked next to you, holding a bunch of candy in his hands. 

You were munching on your snacks, and were just about to thank him for the Pepero when Jaehyun leaned in, stealing a big bite of the Pepero from your hand. 

You shrieked in shock, pouting after realising what had happened. 

“Jaehyun!” you whined, hitting his arm.

Jaehyun giggled. “You snooze, you lose,” he teased with a stupid grin. 

You crossed your arms, huffing. “Some best friend you are.”

Jaehyun’s grin immediately faltered. He quickly broke the chocolate chip cookie he was nibbling on in half, handing you the bigger piece. “Here. Best friends share, right?”

You eyed him rather suspiciously before taking it. “Fine. But you owe me for life.”

“How does that work?” Jaehyun asked, tilting his head slightly. 

“We’d have to be best friends forever,” you replied. The look on your face was enough to tell how serious you meant your words, even for a first grader. “That way, you can always buy me food every day.”

“What if… I won’t be here tomorrow?” Jaehyun asked. You immediately turned to him, confused. That wasn’t what you expected from him as an answer. 

You took a minute of munching through your chips for you to analyse Jaehyun’s doubtful expression. “What are you talking about? Don’t be silly,” you shoved his shoulder. “You’re always here.”

Jaehyun smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Then, promise me—let’s be best friends,  no matter what happens.”

You paused, staring right into his eyes.  

Jaehyun looked at you, his face mixed with some kind of fondness and amusement. “Promise me, Sunshine?” he asked, holding out his pinky in a solemn promise. “Best friends forever.”

You returned his gaze, a smile forming on your face as you linked your pinky with his, sealing the promise without a second of hesitation. “Always.”

The words echoed in the air, and from the way the winds caressed your skin, it’s like the universe had taken note of your promise to each other. 

However, you were completely unaware that this would be the last day you’d spend with him. 

The next afternoon, after completing tasks that your mother had told you to do, you rushed to Jaehyun’s house—a few mere blocks away—with a bag of homemade cookies in hand. A big smile was painted across your face, you were excited to surprise Jaehyun with the sweet treats that you had baked with your mother last night. 

But something was wrong. 

The front yard, usually scattered with Jaehyun’s soccer balls and bicycles, was oddly empty. The windows were shut tight, and the driveway—where his father’s car was always parked—was vacant. 

You felt your heart thump hard against your chest. Your grip on the paper bag tightened, and you approached the front door. 

You knocked. 

Nothing. 

“Jaehyun?” 

You knocked again, harder this time. 

“Myungjae? It’s me, Y/N–”

“Sweetheart? Who are you looking for?” 

You turned towards the voice straight away. It was the old lady who lived next door, the one who always made sure to give you and Jaehyun a popsicle whenever you two passed by her house. She had a gentle yet unreadable smile on her face. You ran up to her, head spinning with a dozen questions. 

“Where’s Jaehyun?” you asked her. 

“My dear…” she began, her voice soft. “Jaehyun left early this morning.”

You blinked. The words were heavy, but you couldn’t understand what they meant. “Left? Where?”

“They moved away.”

Nothing made sense. Jaehyun moved? No one had said anything about moving. 

You looked back towards Jaehyun’s house, hoping that the door would swing open and that he would come running towards you, grinning like he always did. 

But he didn’t come. 

The house was quiet, empty. 

Your throat tightened. “But he promised to play. He said he would… stay.”

The lady kneeled in front of you, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I’m so sorry, my dear.”

You bit your lips, and you didn’t realise you were crying until you tasted salt on your lips. 

Later that evening, you had found yourself wandering back to the playground, the noisy chatter of kids playing around fading into the background. The paper bag still in hand, you walked around aimlessly. You could still hear Jaehyun’s laughter ringing in your ears, the sound of your footsteps blending with his as you two ran around. 

Jaehyun was gone.

And he didn’t even say goodbye. 

You sat down at a bench overlooking the playground where the two of you always played, staring at the place where you both had linked pinkies and made a promise. A promise you had believed in with all your heart.

A promise that, it seemed, only you remembered.

“I’LL see you after school, sweetie,” your father says into your hair. You set your lips into a line, nodding timidly. 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” your mother asks, appearing from behind your father. “We can always accompany you to school–”

“Darling,” your father reminds your mother by putting a gentle hand on her arm. “Our Y/N will be fine. She’s almost eighteen now, I’m sure she can handle it all.” 

You give your parents a reassuring smile before walking away, each step bringing you uncomfortably away from home.

The morning felt weird, anyway. You’re here, in a new school, in a state you’ve never set foot to before. The air here feels like a heavy fog, clinging to your chest as you stand in front of the towering school building. You could feel the weight of an agonising unknown pressing down on you. It’s a sensation that you could never get used to, despite the sun peeking through the clouds, and the bustling cacophony of students around you. You stand at the gates, fingers tightly grasping the straps of your backpack. You take a deep breath, remembering your mother’s advice to help overcome your nerves. 

You walk into your new school, the new feeling of being somewhere so unfamiliar enveloping you. It feels different from the school you left behind—the campus is bigger here, the hallways seemed endless and much wider, and each turn made you feel like you’re lost in a looping maze. They even have a separate building for the library.

You find your footsteps slowing down as you reach the middle of the common area, unsure of where you should go. Your eyes dart here and there, desperately trying to find some kind of clue that could help you. 

You had always been the quiet one, preferring to keep to yourself, listening more than you talked, the one that often found herself slipping to the background of a party and corner of classrooms. Currently surrounded by boisterous students, each seeming to know what they’re doing, you feel slightly overwhelmed. The school map you opened on your phone suddenly feels too complicated for you to understand. 

Suddenly, something solid crashes against the back of your head, causing you to stumble forward, the impact hard enough to make the books you’re holding fall to the ground. 

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!”

You turn to reply, but find your words stuck in your throat. 

A tall guy in a basketball jersey stands before you, his hair tousled in an athletic tangle. He picks up the ball—the solid object that hit the back of your head a moment ago—and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. He gives you a sheepish smile, trying his best to convey how sorry he is—but you’re too focused on his sharp features and messy brown hair. It’s all too familiar. 

Myung Jaehyun. 

Before you could say anything, he leans down and picks up your books. He hands them to you, a charming smile replacing whatever backward expression he had earlier. “Careful there, newbie,” he says, teasing. “Wouldn’t want to be trampled on your first day here, no?”

You take your books from him, dazed. 

He doesn’t recognise you. 

You watch as he jogs back to his friends, spinning the orange ball in his hands. You stand there, exactly where he left you, unsure of what to do next. 

YOU’RE sitting alone at lunch, perfectly at peace with your packed lunchbox. You sit quietly, not wanting to stand out. This is your first day at a completely new school, and the last thing you want is to make yourself the centre of attention. 

Unfortunately, fate had written that this was your first mistake. 

You’re about to enjoy your lunch in the comfort of solitude, a figure that you didn’t expect to see, again, slips into the seat in front of you.

“Hey, newbie,” you hear Jaehyun say as he takes a seat. “Eating alone?”

You simply nod, not knowing what to say. 

“So, um,” Jaehyun finds himself stuttering after not receiving a reply from you. “You’re the new student, right? That explains the self-introduction in class just now.”

You nod again. Seeing the pitiful look on his face, masked poorly by a confident demeanor, you decide to reply. “Yes. I just moved here.”

Jaehyun’s face lights up like a lightbulb. 

“I’m Jaehyun, if you didn’t know that,” he grins. “I’m in your homeroom! My seat is behind you.”

You noticed that, of course. Who wouldn’t recognise someone whose laugh echoed throughout the room, brightening the atmosphere like the rays of a bright spring morning?

You give him a small smile. 

“Your seatmate, Sanghyeok, is my friend! He told me you seemed… er, lonely,” he hesitates for a while, “so I came up with a genius plan,” Jaehyun reveals with a grin that you’re a bit too familiar with. 

He’d always flash that big smile towards you whenever he wanted to propose a plan, but didn’t really want to take credit for it, in case it was a little too ridiculous. 

“What is it?” you reply. 

“We should be friends,” Jaehyun responds, and your eyes widen almost immediately. 

What does he mean by that?

Your heart begins to race, not just because you’re shocked to see Jaehyun, who was once the most important person in your life, after so many years—but from the fact that he naturally is taking charge, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like it came to him with no hesitation. 

“It’s all good! I talked to my friends—Sanghyeok, Sungho, Yoona and Minji—about this, and they all seem pretty cool about it.”

“Oh,” is all you’re able to manage. Everything is moving a little too briskly, and you’re feeling a bit dizzy from how fast things are escalating. 

You feel your brain short-circuiting. 

Just like that?

No hesitation? No ‘wait, Y/N? Is that you?’? No recognition?

You swallow hard. 

“Thank you?” you say, wary. You take a small bite of your sandwich. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Jaehyun beams, and as if on cue, he waves towards a group of people behind you. You turn around, eyes slightly bulging at the way Jaehyun’s friends are quickly approaching your table. You recognise Sanghyeok, naturally, and the girl with a bubbly smile that you assume would be Yoona, but the rest of his friends are new faces for you. 

Jaehyun barely left any room for you to process anything. 

As quickly as they came, the air begins to smell like snacks and sports equipment—a strangely uplifting scent. 

“Guys, meet Y/N!” Jaehyun announces as soon as his friends arrive, putting away their things. “She’s the new kid I told you guys about.”

You look at him for a few seconds. 

Jaehyun is beaming with a smile, and the way he introduced you with such confidence, like you’ve been best friends since forever, makes your heart thump in a weird way.

“Wow, that was fast,” the tall, broad shouldered boy comments, whistling playfully. “Already claiming her as one of us?”

Jaehyun puffs his chest out. “Of course, I have a talent for spotting good people–”

“Hi, nice to meet you, Y/N,” Yoona quickly says, rolling her eyes at Jaehyun. She takes the empty seat next to you. “We’re in the same homeroom. My name is Im Yoona.”

You give her a polite smile. 

A girl with sharp eyes and an amused smile displayed on her face slips into the seat next to Yoona. “So, did he actually ask if you’d like us to sit with you, or did he have you sit here unwillingly?”

You hesitate. “Unwillingly…?”

“Shut up, Minji,” Jaehyun grumbles as the entire group bursts into laughter. 

“That’s Jaehyun for you,” Sanghyeok, your desk mate, says to you. He then gives you a warm smile, just like earlier. “Do you like how KOZ Academy is so far?”

You take a little bite out of your sandwich. “It’s fine. I like how big the campus is.”

“That’s what I always brag about this school,” Minji, who’s been quiet for a while, adds in. The smile on her face is relaxed. “I’ve been here since freshman year, and I still can’t fathom the way we have a swimming pool and tennis courts.”

You nod enthusiastically, recalling how you did see the facilities she mentioned in the school map. 

“Speaking of that, should we give the newbie a tour of the school?” Jaehyun suggests, his face lightening up with excitement. He barely swallows his food as he’s giving you a bright, friendly grin. 

“You speak of her like she’s not in front of you,” the tall boy sighs. He turns to you, smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry. Y/N, isn’t it? I’m Sungho.”

You nod. “Yeah. Nice to meet you.”

“Do you want us to give you a tour of the school?” Yoona asks. She gestures to Jaehyun. “Don’t worry, this dumbass won’t be in charge of it.”

“Hey!” Jaehyun exclaims. 

“You’ll just show her the boring parts of school,” Minji chimes in. 

Jaehyun makes a bewildered expression. “I will not–!”

“Remember the time when Sanghyeok first came to this school? You showed him all the unnecessary classrooms that you didn’t have time to show him where the lunch card machine is,” Sungho adds, laughing.  

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. He passes you a snack. “You’re all so dramatic. Anyway,” he says, shifting his gaze to you. “Don’t mind them, Y/N. You’re welcome here—just sit back and relax.”

You nod, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that it’s the only reaction you’re able to give them so far. You’re not so sure that you’re able to relax when all these new faces have their eyes on you, but surprisingly, their energy isn’t too bad. It’s welcoming, bustling with a friendly spirit. It’s uncomfortable, sure, but it’s not unkind. 

Jaehyun passes you another snack he grabbed from Sanghyeok’s stash, and something in your chest begins to warm. 

Maybe it’s not too bad at all. 

THE next day feels like a dream. 

You arrive at school pretty early, and much to your surprise, you’re greeted warmly by Yoona, who also happens to arrive at the same time as you. She hops off the bus and jogs towards you, catching up to you as soon as you park your bicycle. 

“Good morning, Y/N,” she smiles at you. 

You mirror her expression. “Good morning.”

“It’s still early… Do you want to go to the common area?” Yoona suggests. “I’m sure the rest will already be there.”

You simply nod. “Cool. Let’s go.”

Yoona links her arm with yours, and together, you walk towards the common area. It’s bustling and loud despite it being only half past seven. Most of the energy radiates from Jaehyun and his group of friends: the boys are tossing a basketball up and down—even though they’re clearly indoors, and they shouldn’t be playing with a ball inside. Minji sits on the sofa nearby, leaning back as she lazily reads through a novel, completely unbothered with the ruckus around her. 

As soon as you arrive, Yoona puts her bag down, sitting down next to Minji and they both begin chatting about whatever topic that comes to mind. You, however, aren’t used to this kind of energy—fast-paced, full of jokes and friendly banter. You sit at the edge of the sofa, unsure of how you’d insert yourself into the conversation. 

Jaehyun, on the other hand, is thriving. As always. 

“Bet I can make the shot from here,” he brags, crumpling a snack wrapper in his hands. He gestures to the trash can, located at the far corner of the room. 

“No way,” Sungho scoffs. “That’s, like, ten feet away.”

“You’re all talk, MJ,” Sanghyeok chimes in, laughing. 

Jaehyun smirks, turning to you. “Yo, new kid. Believe in me?”

You meet his eyes, blinking profusely. “Uh…” 

The group laughs, and Jaehyun gives you an exaggerated gasp. He puts a hand over his chest in a dramatic manner. “Wow. The hesitation? I’m hurt.”

“Well–” you say, pausing. You’re unsure if you should say what your thoughts really are, or if you should play it safe. You bit your lip, suddenly feeling self-conscious of the way you’re sitting.

“You’ll miss, definitely,” you quietly mumble. 

For a second—one that felt way too long—Jaehyun stares. 

Then, he throws his head back, laughing his lungs out. “Yo, she’s got a bite! I like her.”

You gape at him, not knowing what to respond to the grin he flashed at you amidst his loud laughter. Your face begins to burn, but the others are nodding in approval.

“Good job,” Minji pats your shoulder. “You’re keeping him humble.”

Sanghyeok hands you a juice box, grinning like his gesture is a kind of initiation. “You’re officially one of us.”

You hesitate, but eventually accept it. 

“Told you you’d fit right in,” Jaehyun says, nudging your side as he grins. 

And just like that, you find yourself smiling back. 

YOU’RE not sure if it’s just you, or it’s that Jaehyun does not remember you at all. It has been quite a long time, you admit that, but you don’t think that it’s reasonable for someone to completely forget someone so important, no matter how long you’ve been without them.

So, for the following weeks, you decided to test the waters, to see if Jaehyun truly did forget you, that if you’re just a passing memory in his childhood. 

“Jaehyun!” you exclaim, running up to the soccer court. The boy perks up, his eyes lightening up as he watches you jog up to him. He was scrolling animatedly on his phone, but when he heard his name being called by you, whatever that he was interested in was tossed aside. 

“Are you done with soccer?” you ask, panting slightly. 

Jaehyun nods. 

“What’s up, newbie?” he then grins, wiping off his sweat using the towel hanging around his neck. 

You cringe slightly at the nickname. “I have a name, you know.”

Jaehyun laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, Y/N. What’s wrong though?”

“Nothing,” you reply. You then rummage through your backpack, bringing out a bunch of strawberry fruit roll-ups. You give Jaehyun a small smile before handing them to him. “Here, I thought you’d want them after practice.”

Jaehyun beams, delightfully grabbing the candies. He opens one of them, and when he’s about to put it in his mouth, he pauses mid-action. His eyes turn straight to you, looking fixedly into your gaze. “Wait.” 

You bite the bottom of your lips, trying to contain yourself. 

“What?”

“How’d you know I like these?”

Your eyes bulge slightly, and you quickly purse your lips together to mask a smile. You knew Jaehyun liked these—ever since you started being friends with him, he had made it clear that he liked everything and anything that tastes like strawberries. You remember spending a lot of time in your childhood, trying the various breeds of strawberry, as well as strawberry candies and snacks that Jaehyun had shared with you; and over time, you just naturally knew specifically what he liked.

And turns out, the five foot seven inches high school senior that’s standing in front of you with a baffled expression on his face still does like strawberry flavoured things. 

He is the Myung Jaehyun that your heart holds dear, even after so many years. 

You shrug. “Just a feeling.”

Jaehyun places the fruit roll-up in his mouth, his gaze still trained on you. In his eyes, you can see that he’s questioning your words. But as the candy melts in his mouth, the doubt begins to dissipate, and his charming smile reappears. 

“Thank you,” Jaehyun’s grin twinkles. He grabs another candy and pops it into his mouth.

“These things are crazy—I can’t get enough of how good they taste!” he begins to chatter as he packs his things, his movement as swift as the speed of the words coming out of his mouth. When he’s done, he stands up straight and looks towards you, the expression in his eyes cheerful and full of energy. 

“Let’s go?” Jaehyun prompts. 

You adjust your backpack’s straps on your shoulders. “Go… where?”

“Home?” Jaehyun replies, perching up his eyebrow. He looks at you like you’ve asked the dumbest question he’s ever heard. “You live in my neighbourhood, don’t you? I always see you cycling home from the grocery store on Saturdays.” 

You hesitate. 

The fact that you do live in the same neighbourhood as Jaehyun does is bothering you in ways you’d never thought it would. It reminds you of the painful separation you faced in your early years of life, and to be hit with such a strong déjà vu years later, you’re not sure if you can handle it. 

Seeing you waver, Jaehyun wears his bag on one shoulder, putting his other arm around you. Your shoulder tense, feeling weird at how he’s so completely at ease with you, like he’s grown up with you for years. 

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he says, his voice oddly absent from the cocky confidence he usually wears. Instead, his voice is comfortingly firm. “C’mon, let’s walk home together.”

As he walks with you to the school gate, the warmth of him being close to you makes your heart ache in ways that are alarmingly familiar. 

IT’S been a few weeks of you trying to execute your attempts at making Jaehyun remember you. But, of course, your efforts decided to fail you. It’s annoying—the way he’s obviously out there treating you like you’re the greatest friend he’s ever had, yet whenever you bring up an old joke or an old nickname that you used to call him, he puts on this confused face that makes you want to slap him and yourself. 

One day, during an afternoon study session, you and your friends had pushed your desks together to mug up upon your studies. You were seated between Yoona and Sanghyeok, and directly in front of you was Jaehyun. 

Tired of solving math problems, you began watching Jaehyun solve a math problem, leaning over his desk. His brows were furrowed deeply, showing how tricky the math problem was. And you notice one thing. 

He was subconsciously sticking out the tip of his tongue slightly. It clicked inside your head, and a roll of memories came playing into your sight. His habit is still the same—exactly like he used to when the two of you were playing jigsaw puzzles. 

You snorted to yourself. “You still do that?” you whispered to yourself. 

However, your whisper was loud enough for your friends to catch. “Do what?” Yoona asked, perking up from her physics homework. 

Her question pulled the entirety of Jaehyun’s attention, and his eyes were locking with yours at once. He had a questioning look on his face, and he didn’t say anything, waiting for you to answer. 

Your eyes widened, and you immediately shook your head. “Nothing,” you stammered, looking away as you bit the inner corner of your cheek.

A few days after that, you were sitting on the bleachers of your school’s soccer field, your homework sprawled over your lap. Jaehyun had made you and the girls come over to watch him, Sungho, and Sanghyeok play soccer at the field. You and Minji didn’t want to at first, but Yoona saw it with a positive note—you were sick of studying at the library every afternoon, so studying at the field could be a nice change. 

It was a windy November afternoon, and autumn was giving way to winter, so every single gush of wind felt like a harsh bite to the skin. You squinted, trying to do your homework as you fought with the wind and the coldness it brought along. You’re not too interested in sports, and it didn’t help that you got there when the match was already halfway through, so you didn’t understand a thing that was going on. 

One thing for sure is that it was quite an intense match. 

“I’m not sure if this was a good idea,” Minji muttered. She shoved her hair into her coat, zipping it up. “My hair is flying everywhere and I can’t even see Sanghyeok. How am I supposed to do anything?”

“Sanghyeok, huh?” Yoona laughed. “You can see them a bit—see, look!” she exclaimed, pointing at the slightly smaller figure of the boys, fiercely in their game. “Sungho and Jaehyun’s about to score!”

Hearing that, you immediately looked up from your homework, your attention officially snatched away from the assignment. You watched intently as the game progressed: Sungho, with the ball in his control, dodged a tackle, swiftly running through the field before powerfully passing the ball towards Jaehyun, who effortlessly scores their winning goal. 

It’s a friendly match between your school’s soccer team and another school, but the celebration that roared through was something else. 

Sanghyeok pulled Jaehyun and Sungho into a bear hug, ruffling both their heads. You heard Jaehyun’s victorious laughs and screams echoing around the air. You smiled.

Soccer has always been one of his passions, and seeing him flourish in it makes your heart bloom in ways you never imagine it would. 

You were proud of him, and it’s a refreshing feeling that you never got to feel years ago, when seven-year-old Jaehyun was telling you all about his soccer dreams. 

After freeing himself from Sanghyeok, Jaehyun ran up to the bleachers. Much to your surprise, he was headed straight to you. He came up to you with a pleasant grin, his face flushed with sweat. 

“Hey, I did it,” he said, breathless. He brought his hand out for a high-five. 

And before you could even think, you stood up and clasped his hand in the old secret handshake from your childhood with him. It came to you like second nature—you couldn’t even stop yourself. 

Jaehyun stiffened, his hand still clasped around yours. 

You were equally as shocked as he is. 

Why did you even do that? 

And what was that reaction?

However, Jaehyun was quick to react—he laughed it off, quickly redoing it into a normal high-five. He gave you another grin before turning away to chug water, leaving you confused and unconvinced. 

Now, you’re not too sure that Myung Jaehyun actually forgot you. 

This theory was drilled into your head even more after another incident or two. 

It was a random Tuesday, where Jaehyun had dragged you and the girls to accompany him to do soccer drills at the field with his team. 

“Remind me why we need to do this again,” Minji grumbled, slumping against the seat. 

Yoona sighed, stifling back a grin. “Because MJ said so.”

“I don’t understand! Why can’t we just wait for them at the library? We need to study anyway,” Minji complained, stomping her feet in frustration a few times. 

“They probably just need some moral support,” you chimed in, watching absentmindedly as Jaehyun is making his team run around the field. 

“They’re seniors already, they should be done with all this,” Minji huffed. 

Yoona shrugged. “You know how they are with soccer.”

“Absolute maniacs,” Minji commented, shaking her head. 

You simply nodded and chuckled along to their conversation, eyes trained on Jaehyun coordinating his teammates in soccer training. The actions then became repetitive, and you quickly got bored. You stared off into space, zoning out. Then, without you realising, a soccer ball from a group of freshmen that were practicing near your seats came flying directly towards you. 

Before you could react, Jaehyun instinctively stepped in front of you, shielding you from the ball with his body. 

The ball bounced off him with a thud, and you gasped. You rushed towards him, Minji and Yoona following you from behind. 

“Jaehyun, are you okay?” you asked frantically. 

Jaehyun picked up the ball, turning slightly to give you a grin that tells you that he’s okay. “I’m okay!” he answered, flexing his bicep. “See?” 

And the memory hitted you like a truck—all this reminded you of the time when the two of you were kids, when Jaehyun would always stand in front of you during dodgeball insisting “you’re too small to get hit!”

A quiet gasp escaped between your lips. “You always do this,” you muttered. 

Jaehyun, who was about to walk back to his teammates after tossing the ball back to them, turned to you. “Do what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. Your eyes narrowed—you could tell that he was feigning innocence. 

“Never mind,” you said, giving him a tight smile. Jaehyun nodded, and you watched him jog back to his teammates, carrying out the practice like usual, a million thoughts racing through your mind. 

He remembers. 

The next week, on a Thursday, you had just gotten back home from your after school Chemistry class—Jaehyun and his mother had dropped you off. After cleaning yourself up and changing into your pyjamas, you sat down at your desk, wanting to get some homework done before you ate dinner. 

Then, your phone pinged with a text notification from Jaehyun. 

hey sunshine

Are u done with the english hw? i wanna see how u did it

Sunshine. 

The nickname that Jaehyun used to love calling you when the two of you were kids, and used to live only a few houses away from each other back in your old neighbourhood. He used to call you that because, quoting him, your smile was as precious as the sunshine on a winter morning. You didn’t—and still don’t—genuinely smile often, but Jaehyun was one of the only people who could trigger it out of you with not too much effort. 

The nickname meant a lot to you. 

You stared at the message in a daze, and when you finally were about to reply, the text was gone. 

y/n, i meant

sorry

You held your hand against your chest, heart pounding like crazy. 

“What the hell was that?” you whispered to yourself. 

So he does remember. 

IT’S a Friday, and you’re sitting down at your desk, unable to focus your brain into another set of math problems. Instead, you sit there, pretending to read through your completed English essay while sneaking glances at Jaehyun. He’s laughing about something with Minji and Sungho, effortlessly conforming with his friends, flashing that same stupid grin that you’ve always remembered from your childhood. 

Your fingers curl around the edges of your desk. 

How could he look so familiar yet feels so distant like a stranger?

You desperately want to believe that he’s forgotten—too much time has passed. But deep down, you know that it doesn’t make sense. He’s too comfortable around you, too quick to include you too. He’s too at ease around you, especially for someone who’s apparently just met you for around two months. 

And the worst part? Your heart is still skipping a beat every time you look at him. Your heart still reacts the same way it did when you were kids—probably even more defined now—cheeks turning pink at his gestures, heart warming at his voice. 

This isn’t fair. Nothing is.

You watch as he ruffles Minji’s hair, annoying her by ruining her hair that she spent an entire morning trying to perfect. He laughs as she swats his hand away, hissing curses at his face. 

He used to do that to you. 

Your grip tightens. 

Maybe you’re just overthinking it. Maybe he really did forget, after all. 

But you can’t just get it out of your head—the way Jaehyun treats you, the small, fleeting glances and the way he easily includes you in every conversation he has and everything he does. It makes you doubt yourself. 

And why do you even care so much?

You turn away, biting your lip. It’s stupid. Everything is just so dumb—you shouldn’t be jealous or feeling worked up about some boy that happened to still be the most important part of your life even after so many years. You shouldn’t even bother yourself with something that happened years ago. You know you shouldn’t hold on to memories that you’re not even sure he still held. 

But you are.

And that fact alone is making you despise everything.

BY the end of the day, you’re lazily packing your bag after the last bell rang. You’re drained after an entire week of classes and endless assignments, and you don’t know if you can survive your after school Math class. Beside you, Sanghyeok is also packing his bag—but he’s doing so at a much faster pace than you are. He gives you an acknowledging smile, a piece of bread in his mouth, before walking out of the classroom. 

“MJ, are we going to the extra football practice coach said we’d have earlier?” Sungho asks, stacking his books into an organised pile before sliding them into his bag. 

Jaehyun looks up from his phone, humming. “Yeah, I’ll go. I’m the captain—can’t miss any sessions, can I?”

Sungho nods in agreement, but before he could say anything in return, Jaehyun’s focus is already shifted to you. 

You’re packing your bag slowly, as if by doing that, you’re able to avoid going to your after school class. You zip your backpack close, feeling someone’s gaze boring into you. You look up, turning towards the source of the tingling sensation. 

“Going home already?” Jaehyun asks, an idle grin displayed on his face. 

You slip your arms into your puffed coat. “Yeah,” you nod, “I have extra class.”

“Let me walk you home,” Jaehyun says, zipping his bag shut smoothly. He swings it over his back. 

“Jaehyun, we have practice,” Sungho reminds. He’s already at the door, gesturing with his chin. 

Jaehyun swats his hand, without even looking at his friend. “It’s fine—you can go first.”

As Sungho leaves with a sigh, Jaehyun grins at you. “C’mon. Let’s stop for some tteok skewers while we’re at it too.”

You stare at him, eyes unblinking. 

Is he being serious? Why is he always insisting on walking you home? Doesn’t he realise what his actions are doing to you? 

Your frown begins to deepen as you recall Jaehyun’s treatment of you ever since you transferred to KOZ Academy: always next to you, effortlessly handing you snacks and drinks—specifically the ones you always preferred, always seeming to prioritise you over everything else that he has; walking you home, buying you food as often as possible, and all the other little things that made your heart somersault. 

You don’t want any of this. 

You don’t like how conscious you are of yourself whenever he’s around. You don’t like how he makes you feel like you’re the most important person in this world. You don’t like how he makes you all smiles—you despise the way he easily brings you out of your shell. 

You clench your fists. 

This is ridiculous. You are being ridiculous. 

Jaehyun has been nothing but very kind and welcoming to you since you first came here. He has included you, so naturally nothing seemed awkward or forced. He introduced you to his friends, and they were all so welcoming you feel like you’ve been friends for ages. He treated you like any other classmate, normal and friendly. 

And that is the problem. 

Because you know that, to Jaehyun, you’re just like any other person here. You’re just a normal classmate. Not the girl who used to braid flowers into his hair as the two of you talked under the shade of the oak tree, chatting your afternoon away. Not the girl that he used to enthusiastically greet every day, eager to share his strawberries. Not the girl that he swore he’d never leave behind. 

You know you mean as much to him as much as his other friends do. You know that his stomach doesn’t do this funny dance whenever you’re around. You know that his cheeks don’t become warm whenever he hears your voice. You know he doesn’t look forward to seeing you every day, like it’s one of the only things that keep him going. 

Your throat burns with this feeling. It’s stupid. You hate whatever’s going on—the faint sliver of hope that Jaehyun just might remember you after all. Maybe he was just pretending. 

But for what?

Because everytime you look into his eyes, you don’t see the Jaehyun you cherished with your entire heart. All you see is someone, still the same Myung Jaehyun, who had long since moved on. 

You’re fine on your own. You know that. You’ve always been. 

You’ve always been by yourself, you didn’t realise how fun and fulfilling it’d be when there’s a special someone in your life. 

When Jaehyun left with no warning ten years ago, you had thought it was the end of the world. You had put yourself through the painful process of moving on, of finally accepting that maybe Jaehyun wasn’t meant to be yours forever all along. 

But then, Jaehyun reappeared. He made his way back into your life, a decade later, as smoothly as the way he first introduced himself to you as a four year old. 

Yet he had the audacity to treat you like you’re a new friend. 

You close your eyes for a quick moment, trying to suppress all the memories that are rushing back into your head. 

“C’mon, Y/N, you’ll be late for your class,” Jaehyun says, tapping your shoulder. It brings you back to reality, and without realising, you’re staring sharply at him with that alarming sensation of tears collecting in your eyes. 

Jaehyun, of course, is quick to notice this. His grin fades into a frown. “What’s wrong? A-are you sick?”

You inhale sharply, taking your bag. “No,” you say, slowly shaking your head. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Okay,” you hear Jaehyun quietly responding as you walk past him. You walk out of the classroom and into the hallways, too tired to even stop Jaehyun from following you. You let him accompany you to the after school tuition centre in town, silently waving him goodbye as you watch him cycle back to school. 

You turn around, sighing. 

YOU know you’re about to hit the end of your patience. 

Your school is hosting a winter festival, organised by juniors and sophomores, a few days before winter break. It’s fun when you think about it, but not as much when you’re paired with Jaehyun for a game. 

The school courtyard is bustling with students, all bundled up in wooly scarves, mittens and puffy jackets, gathered together at the booths set up for your school’s winter festival. The ground is carpeted with white, fresh snow, and a large part of it had transferred into a battlefield for snowball fights, complete with stacks of hay, snowbanks, and random objects as forts. 

“Sorry Y/N,” Yoona says, setting her lips into an apologetic line. 

You shook your head, sighing. Everyone is already paired up with each other—Minji with Sanghyeok, Yoona with Sungho—and you’re left with Jaehyun for the snowball game. You look at Jaehyun, who looks very eager. 

“You’re with me, Y/N!” he exclaims, sliding his arm around your shoulders. His smile is bright and, as much as you didn’t like it, it makes you smile too. 

“So we’re going to draw some sticks and see which teams are going to go against each other,” Jihyeon, one of the juniors in charge of the snowball game booth, says as she comes up to you and your friends. 

“You can go first,” you say to Minji, and she nods. 

She reaches her hand in the cup Jihyeon is holding out, and pulls out a random popsicle stick. The edge of it is coloured red. 

“It’s red?” she asks, a little confused. 

Jihyeon smiles. “That means you’ll be competing against another team who pulled out a red stick!”

“That’s us!” Jaehyun, who’s standing next to you, suddenly exclaims. He holds a red popsicle stick in his hand. You turn to him, slightly surprised. You didn’t even realise he had been picking a popsicle stick for the two of you. 

“You don’t mind me picking for us… Do you?” he whispers to you. You give him a small smile before shaking your head. 

“I don’t mind.”

You and Jaehyun are going against Minji and Sanghyeok for the snowball game, while Yoona and Sungho are fighting against another pair of seniors. Jihyeon gave each team five minutes to make as many snowballs as possible. You and Jaehyun worked your best to form the snowballs—you weren’t too good at handling cold snow, but Jaehyun seemed to be the best at it. 

“We’ll win this,” Jaehyun says to you, crouching down behind your side of the area. You crouch down next to him, awkwardly nodding. 

He smiles at you in reassurance, and some kind of positive energy fills you up. 

And before you could even process any of it, Jihyeon blows the whistle, indicating the start of your snowball fight. A chaos, made out of crazed giggles and snowballs crashing against bodies, begins to erupt, and you lose sight of Jaehyun in the middle of it.

Jaehyun is immediately in his element—his snickering laughter ringing through the school courtyard as he hurls snowballs at Minji and Sanghyeok. He ducks and dodges behind a snowbank, his chequered brown and red scarf flying behind him like a flag. 

You’re standing awkwardly behind a stack of hay tall enough to cover you, holding a snowball with both of your hands.  Jaehyun suddenly lands next to you, and as soon as he sees you, he tilts his head with a smirk. “Y/N,” he says loudly against the frenzy, “you’re supposed to throw the snowball, Sunshine, not hold on to it like a favourite teddy bear.” 

Jaehyun gives you a teasing grin before dashing off to hurl more snowballs towards Sanghyeok, triple the amount he just threw to his face moments ago.

You remain there, standing still. 

Sunshine? What was that? 

Your cheeks turn pink underneath your knitted scarf, and it’s hard to tell whether that was caused by the cold or from the way that Jaehyun’s grin made your heart flip. 

You watch as Jaehyun plays around in the snow, his giggles resonating around the air. You stand there, your heart thumping loudly in confusion. 

He definitely remembers. 

You absentmindedly take a step back, clutching the snowball in your hands harder, the stinging cold no longer bothering you. 

A second later, Jaehyun arrives next to you, almost slipping. He pants, and despite that, he’s still grinning joyfully. He locks his gaze with yours, and upon noticing your expression, his smile falters a little.

“Y/N?” Jaehyun asks, “are you okay? Why aren’t you playing?”

“‘Sunshine’,” you state plainly, eyes unblinking. “What was… that?”

Jaehyun freezes. He opens his mouth, but for a while, nothing comes out. He stares at you, something unreadable clouding his eyes. The wind blows at his messy hair, flopping against his forehead. 

“What are you talking about?” he asks, chuckling rather sheepishly. 

You narrow your eyes. You’re not letting this go. “Jaehyun,” you press on. “Answer me, Myungjae.”

Upon the nickname, his eyes widens.

Jaehyun hesitates, and for a while, it looked like he was about to give you the answer you desperately wanted. However, your hopes were crushed as a snowball from Minji came hurling towards your direction, crumbling upon impact against your hair. Jaehyun’s eyes widens, and his focus turns back to the snowball match.

“We have a minute left,” he says, rushingly grabbing several snowballs. He’s about to turn to Minji and Sanghyeok, wanting to throw more snowballs at them—but he pauses. He leans close, brushing snow out of your hair with his free hand. 

Your breath catches in your throat. A rush of warmth goes up your cheeks, despite the raging emotions and thoughts in your head. 

He’s too close. 

Jaehyun chuckles. After making sure all of the snow is gone, he ruffles your hair, trying his best to make it look okay again. “There,” he says, his voice low and comforting. “All good.”

You watch him turn his focus back to the snowball frenzy, unable to utter a word. You stare at him, his grin decorating his already handsome face. Your heart claws against your chest as you try your best to pull your eyes away from Myung Jaehyun, who looks too gorgeous with his brown hair adorned with sparkly snowflakes. 

You know he’s lying. You know he remembers. 

But why is he doing all this?

THE last bell of the day rings, the entire school erupts in a chatter of celebration. Students run out of their classrooms, walking out with their friends as they chat the rest of the day away. Several student council members are doing several of their last duties of the day, making sure that everything is perfect before leaving the school for a month. 

You’re at your locker, double-checking everything. You make sure to stuff your bag with things that you’re not too confident at leaving at school for a month—your chemistry textbook, the mirror that your old friends got you. You also made sure to replace the tape that’s holding up the polaroid pictures of you and your family, hoping that it’d stay up for longer this time. 

Your eyes linger around the polaroid of you and Jaehyun—taken at the young age of six. It was the first day of school, you vividly remembered. 

You used to look at that picture with a bittersweet, reminiscent feeling. You always used to look at that picture with some kind of hope that you’d meet Jaehyun one day. 

But now, you can’t do that anymore. 

You glance at Jaehyun’s direction, a few metres away from you. He’s at his locker with his friends, Ricky and Sungho. He’s laughing, as always, and he’s effortlessly blending in like he always did. He’s enjoying his time with his friends, like he didn’t just spend the last few months unknowingly ripping you into pieces. 

How could he be so carefree when you’re feeling like this?

You hate it. So much. 

Too much.

You hate how your chest aches whenever you catch Jaehyun looking at you, the way he looked at you like any other classmate, betraying the years you spent together. You hate how he seemed to have easily erased you from his past, like you meant absolutely nothing to him. You hate how he seemed to have forgotten you so heartlessly, when you have spent years holding onto him. 

But now, you can’t hold it in anymore. 

Jaehyun had finished his conversation with his friends, and now he’s walking towards you, tossing his ball up and down, flashing that same easygoing smile that had captured your heart—and something inside you snaps.

“Do you really not remember me?”

Jaehyun pauses, his eyes bulging and his footsteps halting. 

You didn’t mean to say it. 

You had spent weeks bottling it all up, second-guessing yourself amidst all the mixed signals. You constantly told yourself that it didn’t matter, that Jaehyun truly did forget you, and that it had been too long for him to even remember you as much as you remember him. 

You can’t just bottle it in any longer. 

Jaehyun blinks, clearly taken aback. “What?”

You exhale sharply. You can’t take it back anymore. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”

JAEHYUN bangs his head against his bedroom door, regretting every single thing he’s done. 

Why did he even do that?

After he said goodbye to Ricky, who was going on a winter vacation to Italy, he turned to you. He approached you, subconsciously having that same stupid lovesick grin that his lips somehow form whenever he’s around you. He’s walking towards you, like how he does it every other day.

Usually, you’d greet him with that adorable little smile of yours. 

But today, he was smothered with a menacing glare and a question that he doesn’t expect instead. 

“What are you talking about?” Jaehyun said, trying his best to sound innocent. He was unable to pry his gaze away from you, but he hoped that you didn’t catch the quiver in his eyes. 

You didn’t say anything for a while, and he watched as whatever emotions you had swirling in your beautiful eyes changed into a solid look of hurt and betrayal. 

Jaehyun felt his heart drop to the floor. 

It’s like everything stopped, and his stomach began to twist, the memories rushing back as they played through his mind like a broken film tape that he couldn’t stop from playing. 

“You really, really don’t remember me,” you said, quiet with a humongous amount of hurt. Your voice cracked, and Jaehyun’s heart began to crumble because of it. 

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Jaehyun replied, forcing out the words as firmly as he possibly could. 

His words felt like acid on his tongue. Jaehyun had told this lie many times before, but today, it felt more painful than the others. But Jaehyun did it anyway, over and over again.

Because it’s easier than admitting the truth to you. It’s easier than having to acknowledge the feeling that’s twisting his heart, hurting his chest. 

You exhaled shakily, and for a second, Jaehyun swore that he could see through you—your eyes searching him, like you were finding the real Jaehyun, who had been the one that promised he’d be your rock until the end of time. 

And the fact that you still had that effect on him—making him feel like he’s on Cloud 9—after all these years, only made it worse for him. 

“You’re lying,” you snapped, your eyes starting to sparkle with unshed tears. Your voice began to rise with every word you uttered. “You do remember me. You remember everything. Don’t you?”

His heart began to thump loudly against his ribs. He had never seen you so worked up like this, he had never heard you raise your voice like this. 

Jaehyun stared into your eyes, the truth burning at the back of his throat. He hesitated, almost spitting it out. 

But in the end, he swallowed it. 

“I don’t get it, Y/N,” he countered, trying to sound confused. Though, it didn’t sound convincing, even to him. ���Maybe we’ve met before, in-in the past, but I truly don’t remember anything.”

Your gaze stiffened, and the desperation in your expression faded. Jaehyun kept his guard strong—he couldn’t let you see him crack, even though the weight of your disappointment was heavy on him. 

Then, after a minute of silence that felt too long, you gave him a straight smile. 

“Okay,” you whispered. You slammed your locker close and immediately walked away, not giving Jaehyun a chance to say anything else. 

He wanted to chase after you. But he couldn’t. 

He watched you turn away, and as the doors closed behind you, he felt the loss crumbling upon him, heavy and unbearable. 

YOU’RE not even sure why you’re feeling like this, but you are angry. Upset. 

Who wouldn’t be, especially after witnessing the only person who made you feel truly understood shun you out, saying that he doesn’t remember you?

You didn’t really like leaving your messages unread and unreplied, but for the first time, you let your text channel with Jaehyun clog up. 

It’s the morning of Christmas, and you wake up to almost fifty new texts from Jaehyun alone. You don’t open any of them, but you couldn’t help but read some of it from the notifications bar. 

y/n, did i do something wrong?

y/n, are u okay?

y/n, i can’t believe u declined to go snowboarding 2gether yesterday. we had so much fun!!!

okay fine. i shouldn’t have used that tone

honestly it kinda sucked to not have u around

i know u’d like seeing the sunset from on top of the mountain

y/n i hope u’re eating well

y/n, did u go see the big christmas tree in the city centre? i’m in front of it rn. 

y/n. merry christmas. 

enjoy your day

You sigh, turning off your phone. It pained you, probably just a little bit, to ignore all of Jaehyun’s attempts to reach out to you. You did feel a bit sad that you’re missing out on fun plans that he wanted to do with you—but what could you possibly do? You know you’re not ready to face him without baring your teeth at him. 

You enjoy the day with your family, happy to see them after a long time, especially your cousins and grandparents. You ate a lot of good food, took a lot of pictures, played a lot of games with your nieces and nephews, and of course—exchanged many memorable moments and laughter with your family members. 

You were playing in the snow with your little cousins, your heart stinging a little. Not from the cold, but from the memory that you have associated with snowball fights—Jaehyun. There was something warm about hurling cold balls of snow that made the tips of your fingers red. Maybe it was because you were fond of the person smiling at you during that time, or maybe because the way snowball fights produce heartwarming laughter reminds you of the person that you’ve cherished for so long and how his laughter fills your heart with joy.

Your mother called you inside, and after shaking off all the snow from your coat, you joined everyone else for the gift unboxing time. You got many gifts from your family and friends alike, but when it came to the largest box addressed to you, you can’t help but feel a little pang in your heart. 

Who was it from? 

You flip the card attached to the gift, the world going completely silent for a second. Your eyes widen at the sight of Jaehyun’s name scribbled onto it, along with a short message. 

Merry Christmas. I hope you enjoy this.

“When… how did this get here?” the question escapes your mouth almost instantly, but you know that’s not what you really wanted to ask. 

“A boy came off to drop this just now, when you were playing in the backyard with the kids,” your aunt replies, handing you a piece of brownies. You put it in your mouth, chewing slowly as you try to process her words. “I asked him if he wanted to come in and talk to you, but he refused and ran away so quickly I didn’t have time to stop him.”

You merely nod, unable to say anything due to the heavy feeling pressing down your chest. Slowly, you rip the wrapping paper open, holding in a breath you know wasn’t necessary. 

You didn’t know what you expected. 

An apology letter, maybe. 

Or something that he remembered that you always liked. 

But instead of that, your hands are holding a gingerbread house kit and a store-bought Christmas card taped to it. 

Whatever hope you still had remaining for Jaehyun fades, and your jaw clenches. 

It’s time to stop. 

“LOOK, it’s Shinyu,” Yoona nudges you, giggling rather uncontrollably. You glance at his direction, a little wide eyed from how blatant her statement was. 

You’re walking with Yoona and Minji to your school’s library, located in the middle of campus grounds. You’re almost there, when you spot Junghwan—or more famously known as Shinyu, and his group of friends walking in the opposite direction. 

“Shush,” you whisper. “Why are you making this such a big deal?”

“‘Cause he’s such a gentleman, duh,” Yoona replies, deadpanned. Though, that kind of expression on her face lasts only a second. As you and Shinyu’s steps grow closer to each other, and heat begins to rise up to your cheeks, Yoona couldn’t hold her smile back. 

“We’re just friends,” you state, dismissing whatever she’s about to say. You shove your hands deep into the pockets of your puffed jacket, and you set your gaze straight ahead. 

Yoona gives you a raised brow. “I never said you guys weren’t. Are you saying that you guys are more than that?” she asks, the octave of her voice going higher. 

“Someone’s excited,” you mumble. You quickly turn to Minji, desperate. You’re going to walk past Shinyu and his friends anytime now. 

“Min, help,” you plead between gritted teeth. 

To your surprise, Minji laughs, putting her hands up. “I’ll always defend you, but this time, I can’t—you and Shinyu are too cute for me to prevent it.”

Your heart skips a beat, and your mouth is agape. Though, before you could say anything to counter Minji’s remark—that’s already making her and Yoona laugh—Shinyu is already next to you. 

“Hello,” he says, his voice sweet like honey. 

You freeze in your steps, and you quickly turn to him. Shinyu, standing much taller than you, has a fresh smile plastered on his face–the sincerity of it feels like it’s only for you. Though, you don’t want to get your hopes up for anything. You and Shinyu had recently started becoming friends, right after winter break ended a few weeks before this: he’s in your English and PE class, and he often sits near you when you’re studying in the library. You always see him playing basketball after school, too. 

You give him a small smile. “Hi, Shinyu.”

“Where are you going?” Shinyu asks. He nods in acknowledgement to Yoona and Minji. 

“Library,” Minji replies, looping her arm with yours. “Do you wanna come with us?”

Shinyu glances towards his friends, who’s talking amongst themselves.

“I promised my friends I’d come to study with them in the common room,” he says, before shifting his gaze back to you, and there’s some kind of determination shining through. “But you know what?”

Flustered, you blurt out. “What?”

“Yo, guys, I’ll be studying in the library,” he announces to his friends. Some of them roll their eyes, but eventually, they all agree to meet up after school. 

“Let’s go then?” he says, flashing you a smile. 

Yoona clears her throat, and even though muffled, you can clearly hear her giggling. You press your lips together, nodding. You’re feeling shy for no reason. “Okay. Let’s… go.”

Shinyu grins, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

The four of you walk to the library—Yoona and Minji, to your right, are giggling their hearts at the way Shinyu’s walking to your pace, his position perfectly shielding you from the sun. 

You force yourself to look forward the entire time, Shinyu’s presence suddenly making you feel beet red. Unknowingly, you’re smiling to yourself—Shinyu is well-known amongst your peers for his good manners, and undoubtedly, he’s one of the nicer people you’ve met. You lost count of the amount of times he’s taken care of you, especially when you’re studying. 

You chuckle. 

Shinyu’s not bad. 

“Someone’s in love, huh?” Yoona jests, pushing the library door open. You jolt back to reality, scowling at her. 

“I’m not in love,” you whisper sharply. ��Also, shut up, he’s next to me.”

Yoona throws her head back, unable to contain her amusement anymore. You ignore her snickering in the back, and you walk inside the library, clutching the straps of your backpack as you try to find a table with enough seats for all of you. 

As you’re looking, a familiar voice pulls your attention towards its owner. 

“Y/N!” you hear Sungho call you, his voice quiet but loud enough for you to catch. He motions for you and the rest to come over. Yoona and Minji notice this, and they immediately jog over, delighted to see the boys. 

However, you’re a little sceptical. 

Your eyes meet with Jaehyun, who looks rather wide-eyed to see you. You hesitate, your footsteps heavier than before. You haven’t been really talking to him ever since school reopened after winter break, and this is the first time you’re facing him directly. 

Shinyu notices your mood drop. He leans to whisper, “are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, and as far as I know, ghosts don’t really appear in the day.”

You almost burst out laughing at Shinyu’s wooden remark. You bit the bottom of your lips before tugging Shinyu’s sleeve. “Let’s go sit with them?”

“Are you sure?” he asks, voice suddenly shaky. 

You nod. “I’m sure they’ll be okay with it!”

You’re not too sure what made you feel so brave to do so—but you pull Shinyu towards the table that all your friends are sitting at, gesturing for him to sit next to you. Jaehyun, who happened to sit directly in front of the seat that you’re claiming as yours for the day, watched with a dumbfounded expression on his face, his jaw dropped. Yoona and Minji smirked, seeming to know what you’re doing, but  Sungho and Sanghyeok looked a little hesitant. 

Other than the sharp gaze that Jaehyun gave you, lingering a little longer than you’d like, you notice nothing wrong with him. 

Not until an hour into studying together. 

Shinyu, Sungho and Sanghyeok had gotten along quite well, and you often find yourself trying to stifle your laughter at their jokes. You also saw Minji, who was quite hard to impress, laughing along as well. 

You’re mid-laugh when you notice it—Jaehyun’s easygoing demeanour has disappeared. He no longer had that grin that rose higher on one side of his face, one that he displayed when he was amused at something. 

Instead, he’s staring. 

Not at you, but right at Shinyu, who’s sitting next to you, chatting animatedly about a variety show he watched last night with his sisters. You couldn’t help but observe the boy sitting in front of you—his jaw tight, his fingers obnoxiously tapping against the table. It’s obvious that something is bothering him, given that his bright energy had dimmed. 

Normally, Jaehyun would add in to the conversation, spicing things up with a joke here and there, lighting up the atmosphere with his contagious laughter.

You were about to ask Jaehyun about it, but Shinyu is quicker than you thought. He leans in to show you a video on his phone, something related to the funny moment in the variety show that he watched last night.

Your attention is almost immediately pulled towards Shinyu and his phone, but Jaehyun’s actions tugs you back to him harder. 

He pushes back his chair with a loud, audible scrape. 

“What the hell, man?” Minji hisses. 

“Y/N,” Jaehyun says, not even looking at anyone else. “We need to talk.”

“Huh?” you splutter. You thought you made it clear that you don’t want to talk to him.

Jaehyun stomps towards you, and before you could say anything to counter, he grabs your wrist and pulls you away to a far corner. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, as soon as Jaehyun stops in his steps. You’re more confused than angry, the entire incident that happened before winter break pushed to the back of your mind. 

Jaehyun mumbles something, but you can’t hear him at all. 

“Sorry, what?”

“I said nothing,” Jaehyun replies, his eyes narrowing. 

His reply, rather sharp, startles you a little.

And that makes you a bit worked up. “What’s up with you?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

Jaehyun doesn’t reply. Instead, he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, muttering to himself. His eyes dart here and there, as if he’s trying to find some kind of answer. You stand there, silent as you watch him do his thing, not knowing what to do as a response. 

After a while, Jaehyun does something that wasn’t even in the list of things you guessed he’d do—he unzips the hoodie he’s wearing and places it on your shoulders. You stare at him with bulging eyes, mouth agape.

What is he doing?

Before you can even do or say anything to stop him, Jaehyun guides your arms into its sleeves, zipping the hoodie up for you. He takes a step closer to you, leaning close to grab the hood behind your head. 

You feel your breath stuck in your throat. 

He’s. Too. Close.

Jaehyun, his gaze showing how focused he is at this, pulls the hood over your head, tugging it slightly so that it’s secured. His eyes find yours, and for a moment, the world around the two of you freezes. 

You clear your throat, and Jaehyun’s brought out of his trance. 

A fake cough escapes him, and he shoves his hands into his pocket, acting cool before he starts walking back to the table. 

“Jaehyun?” you call after him. “What’s this?”

Jaehyun looks back at you. “Nothing. Just keep it on. You get cold easily, don’t you?”

You go back to your seat, feeling extremely weirded out. What’s up with this guy? 

A part of you tells you that he’s trying to mark you as yours. 

You grimace, shutting up that tiny part of you. 

He doesn’t even bother to remember me, so why would he do that?

JAEHYUN’S behaviour just keeps on getting weirder and weirder. You really tried your best to tell yourself that it’s not a big deal—but at this point, nothing can convince you that Jaehyun’s not being weird. 

You could recall quite a few moments of him being rather significantly bitter, for a reason that you’re not even aware of: one of them being a free period before lunch on a Wednesday, where Shinyu came over to you to ask you a few questions about Math. 

You had barely even managed to reply to Shinyu’s request before Jaehyun suddenly got up from his seat, clapping his hand on your shoulder. 

You turned sharply towards him, shocked at both the impact and the unexpected gesture. “Jaehyun, what—”

“Y/N,” he interrupted, loudly, “I just remembered! I owed—I mean, you owe me something! An answer. About… about something!”

“What thing?” you frowned. From what your memory serves you, there’s no such thing—

“The, uh—” Jaehyun waved his hand vaguely, glancing at Shinyu, who raised a brow at him. “You know? The thing we talked about yesterday. Super important. Can’t wait. Urgent. Like, right now.”

Before you can even open your mouth, Jaehyun grabbed your hand and pulled you a few steps away. 

Shinyu, grabbing his papers, shook his head. “At least be subtle, dude.”

Jaehyun, hand still clasped around yours, narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Shinyu chuckles. 

You looked back and forth between the two guys, sighing heavily. Just what is going on?

Another similar moment occurred the next week, at lunch on a random Friday, where Jaehyun was annoying the living daylights of Shinyu for some stupid reason that you’re not too sure of. Shinyu, being the absolute angel he is, completely dodged Jaehyun’s attempts. He remained next to you, chatting about whatever topic that came to mind. He also made sure to include the rest of your friends, and to give you any part of his lunch that he noticed you liked—that extra crispy chicken or the cream cheese bun that he hadn’t touched yet. 

Shinyu had to leave a bit early because his basketball coach had something to discuss with him. He bid you farewell, and as soon as he was out of earshot, Jaehyun immediately perked up, smiling like none of his attempts at making Shinyu pissed off ever happened. 

Tired of the same kind of thing happening each day, you decided to confront him about it. At first, you didn’t want to—afraid that you’re just imagining things, but after discussing it with Yoona and Minji, you knew it’s for the best. 

“You’re acting weird,” you finally said, eyes pointed straight at Jaehyun. 

Jaehyun paused midaction, his noodles slipping down from his chopsticks. “Are you talking to… me?”

Minji punched his shoulder. “Stop being so dense, idiot.”

You nod in Minji’s direction, before turning back to Jaehyun. “Yes, you.”

“Me?” Jaehyun scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not being weird.”

Sungho snorted in his drink, and Sanghyeok shook his head. You bit back a smile—you’re definitely not imagining this. 

“You glared at Shinyu for five minutes. Did not blink.”

“I did not.”

“And you interrupted every time he spoke.”

“Coincidence.”

You gave him a deadpanned look. “You literally dragged me away mid sentence more than two times.”

The falter in Jaehyun’s cocky gaze tells you that you’re right. 

Jaehyun groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, maybe I’m acting weird. But it’s not because of him. Not because of Shinyu. I just—” 

He cut himself off, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

You stared at him, more confused than ever. 

Jaehyun avoided you gaze, and that confirms everything you’re questioning

“...Right.”

He’s definitely acting weird. 

JAEHYUN is in a mess. He doesn’t know what he’s doing—and he definitely doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do either. 

He knew, from the moment you stopped even reading his messages over the winter break, that he’s truly messed up. But he doesn’t really know what to do, and the only logical solution in his head is the option that he wants to avoid the most. 

Jaehyun is dragging his feet through the hallways, dodging noisy students chatting and huddling in groups at the lockers, when he hears a familiar voice talking as he’s passing by. 

Shinyu. 

The guy that gets on Jaehyun’s nerves whenever he’s around you—the audacity that he has to be flirting openly with you, to show off the fact that he might have a bigger chance with you than Jaehyun ever will. 

He wasn’t paying attention at first, and had his foot out to step away already.

“I think I’ll do it in the courtyard,” he hears Shinyu say, “it’s the most perfect spot. Besides, Y/N likes the marigolds there.”

Jaehyun feels his heart stop, his body freezing mid-step. 

He barely registers the students passing him, hitting his shoulders multiple times. Shinyu’s words sink in, heavy and dangerous. 

“Damn,” another voice speaks, “so you’re really confessing? On Valentine’s day?”

“Yeah, of course,” Shinyu replies confidently. “I mean, Y/N’s amazing. I’d be an idiot not to try.”

“Doesn’t she see you as just a friend?” a voice points out. 

Shinyu sighs. “I know, but what’s the harm in trying?”

“She’s quiet, though, isn’t… she?” another voice asks. 

Shinyu shrugs. “I don’t mind, she’s perfect in my eyes anyway.”

Jaehyun’s stomach twists. His fingers are clenched into fists at his sides, and he knows he should just walk away. 

But his feet won’t move.

Jaehyun stands there, his heart hammering violently against his chest. He frowns, pretending that whatever he heard didn’t get under his skin at all. 

Shinyu is confessing. To you.

And the worst part is Jaehyun has hardly any idea what to do about it.

JUST as he thought his day couldn’t get worse, Jaehyun spots Shinyu running up to you after the last bell rang, a bunch of snacks in hand. He intercepted you from Jaehyun, who was on his way to you, a box of Pepero in his hand. 

It slips from his hand, falling on the ground.

Jaehyun knew. 

From the way your eyes begin to light up whenever you see Shinyu, and the way your smile is just so bright whenever he’s near. The way you talk more and more, prompted so effortlessly by Shinyu. The way you look like you’re glowing when you’re with him… it hits Jaehyun.

He’s going to lose you. 

His vision becomes blurry as he stands in the middle of the courtyard, as still as stone. Jaehyun can’t ignore this any longer. 

He can’t ignore the way his heart is eager whenever he sees you. He can’t ignore the way the world seems a little less gloomy, a lot less lonely when you’re around. He can’t ignore the way his chest hurts, like it’s about to burst, whenever he sees you flashing that adorable, rare smile around anyone else. He can’t ignore the fact that he feels like he’s about to throw up flowers everytime he sees you with Shinyu, all giggly from whatever he says to you. 

He just can’t disregard the fact that he has obvious feelings for you, that he still loves you after all these years. 

Jaehyun had always known those feelings, pushed away deep in his stomach, but these past few weeks—it keeps on growing larger and larger, more urgent and more consuming. The small flutter in his chest when he watched you laugh, the feeling that settled comfortably around him whenever you look at him with those warm eyes, and the overwhelming ache when you’re around Shinyu. 

Jaehyun had tried his absolute best to ignore it. 

But now, watching you interact with Shinyu—sharing snacks, smiling so shyly with him—it made Jaehyun extremely aware of himself. Shinyu, your fellow classmate who seemed to know exactly what to say, the one who made you giggle and smile the way Jaehyun used to always do… the feeling hits Jaehyun differently. 

Jaehyun felt like the ground underneath him was about to crumble, and the earth was about to eat him alive. His heart twists so painfully it makes him feel like he wants to run and hide from the shattering realisation that you might never look at him the same way he has always looked at you. 

He wishes that he had been more courageous, more brave to admit to you that you’re his world, and he’s orbiting you—that you hadn’t left his mind, ever since he left ten years ago. Not even once. He wishes that he had been more valiant, and that he told you, the first time he bumped into you, after a decade of not seeing his favourite person—that he missed you dearly. Your laughter, your smile, and the way that it’s reserved only for him to see—he wishes he said that to you the first time. 

Honestly, Jaehyun wasn’t even really sure why he lied to you. Sure, he was scared, afraid that you might not remember him at first. But after a while, he just didn’t want his feelings for you to be out in the open. He knew you remember him—but he was simply terrified. 

What if you didn’t like him the way he did? 

What if he’s the only one that’s feeling like you’re the most important person in life?

Jaehyun was too afraid of you rejecting him to stop lying. 

Though, he thought that his way of showing his feelings, rather subtly in his opinion, through little acts of service could make you notice. 

Even so, Jaehyun knew that it only made you more confused. 

He really wanted to be happy for you—he really does. You deserve all the goodness in this world, and you deserve to be happy with someone who looks at you the way Jaehyun looked at you all this while, but his chest twists with a blazing jealousy: an emotion he never thought he’d feel when it comes to you. 

It’s not fair. 

Not to you, not to him. 

How could he be so stupid? How could he be such a loser, a coward? 

Jaehyun takes a shaky breath in. He could tell, from the way you looked at him, and from the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him, that you had no idea. No absolute idea about the chokehold you have on him—the way every shared moment, every glance and every smile is carved into his soul. 

You have no idea how much he’s hurting, from the way you’re clearly upset with him, the way you’re growing closer to Shinyu, and the way you’re slipping away from his reach with every passing moment.

But then, something clicks in him. He’s not going to let the ache, the jealousy and the frustration take the reins—he’s no longer going to shrink back into the shadows. 

This is going to be his moment. His time to shine. Jaehyun could feel the determination settle firmly in his chest, and his mind begins to come up with a plan. The fear and the doubt is burned to ashes, and it’s no longer going to hold him back. 

He had been such a fool. 

This time, no more hesitating. No more waiting. No more wondering what if. 

If he wants you, he’s going to fight for it. 

He’s not going to let himself lose you to anyone else. Not now. Not ever. You’re his best friend, his rock, his confidante. You understand him in ways others don’t, and he knows you more than you even know yourself, even after all these years. And if anyone is going to make you realise that, it’s him. 

JAEHYUN hadn’t meant to walk this way. 

It’s the night before Valentine’s day, and somehow, his feet had brought him to your house, a couple blocks away from his own. He’s in a new neighbourhood, and the house he’s approaching is new, but the feeling is familiar. 

He slows to a stop, staring at your house—remembering how it used to be some kind of second home to him. It’s a new house in a new state, but Jaehyun could still remember sitting on the front steps with you, munching the afternoon away with your mother’s homemade snacks. He still remembers doing homework with you on the porch, laughing at the way you huffily grumbled under your breath when it came to difficult questions you couldn’t solve. He still remembers building a pillow fort in your living room, calling it your ‘secret base’. 

His fingers curl around the strap of his guitar. 

Have you ever realised how much you mean to him? How much do you always mean to him?

A gust of wind blows through the quiet street. 

Jaehyun stares at your window, the warm glow radiating from inside. He swallows hard. 

It’s now or never. 

Taking a deep breath, he takes a step forward and begins picking his guitar. 

YOU shove your headphones down your neck, heart thumping fast. 

What’s the noise outside?

You walk towards your window, nervous upon hearing the melodious guitar and the singing muffled by the bricks in your walls. 

“Man, I'm so nervous to death

I relax my stiff lips

I might fail miserably like this

I might mess up

Hi, the weather's nice. Wanna take a walk?

My shy voice is just for you!

Ah, please, don't say no

Oh, I won’t beat around the bush

From my head to toe

No, even my heart’s under pressure…”

You recognise that voice. 

Jaehyun. 

What’s he doing here, in the middle of the night? 

You peek through the curtains—and your assumption is correct. There he is, Jaehyun, standing rather awkwardly in front of your driveway with his guitar. 

Your eyes widen. He’s singing. 

Or more accurately, screaming. 

“I love you, baby, baby, baby

I’ve been screaming the whole neighborhood knows 

I like you!

My neighbors go, yah, yah, yah

Let's get some sleep, yoo-ooh, oh-oh

I swear you'll like it.”

You close the curtains sharply, turning your back to the wall. Your face begins to feel hot, and your breaths turn to short, ragged gasps. 

You close your eyes, trying to drown Jaehyun’s voice out, but you can’t. 

Slowly, you open your eyes again, letting yourself to hear him out.

And soon enough, you realise the meaning behind the words he’s singing. 

“Ah, please, don't say no

Oh, I don't want to be just friends

From my head to toe

No, even my heart's under pressure!”

You push your curtains aside, taking in the view. You expect him to be singing rather calmly, but instead, you’re greeted with Jaehyun, kneeling on the road as he’s serenading you. 

“I love you, baby, baby, baby

I've been screaming the whole neighborhood knows 

I like you!”

You barely processed what he just sang. 

One second, you were in your room, standing frozen as your breath hitched at the sound and sight of Jaehyun’s singing echoing through the neighbourhood. 

Next, you’re running out of the house. 

You didn’t think—you just ran. 

Your parents, who were alarmed by Jaehyun’s singing, didn’t even have time to react. You flew past them, socks sliding across the wooden porch, nearly tripping down the slippery steps. 

“Y/N! Your coat—”

Too late. 

“I love you, baby, baby, baby

I've been screaming𑁋”

You bolt towards Jaehyun, crashing into him with so much force he barely had time to catch his guitar. 

“𑁋the whole neighborhood knows 

I like you𑁋oof!”

From the door, your dad raises a brow. “...did we miss something?”

Your mother merely chuckles, smiling knowingly. 

“You really—” you gasp, your breath visible in the air, “—had to do this in front of everyone?”

Jaehyun grins, entirely unbothered. “Of course.”

You cover your face with your hands—you were embarrassed, at first, but now it’s not even about all that. Your body is trembling, not from the cold nor embarrassment, but from the overwhelming warmth that is engulfing you. 

Jaehyun gently pries your hand away. “Hey,” he says softly, his grin now a gentle smile, “did it work?”

Your lips part. “What? Did what work?”

“Making you fall for me.”

Jaehyun barely had time to flash you another of his smirks before you fling yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. 

He lets out a startled laugh, stumbling back slightly. “Whoa—hey, what’s–”

“You’re so embarrassing,” you say against his jacket, your grip tightening. “And loud. And ridiculous.”

And just so, so cute. 

Jaehyun giggles, running a hand through his hair. “So,” he says, and you pull away to look at him. “How was it?”

You look at him with slightly narrowed eyes. “How was what?”

“I just serenaded you. That basically means you have to date me now, right?”

You gasp, hitting his chest. “Jaehyun–!”

“I mean, that’s like, a rule or something. I put in all this effort, to sing to you on a very cold winter night—made myself look completely ridiculous, and now you have no choice but to fall for me. That’s how it works,” Jaehyun continues, a smug look on his face.

You roll your eyes, to hide the obvious flush in your cheeks. “You’re unbelievable–”

“Unbelievably charming?” he cuts you off, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No. Unbelievably embarrassing.”

Jaehyun dramatically gasps. “Excuse me, that was romantic. I even practiced the song! Twice!”

You swat your hand, face burning, but he catches it. 

You stare at him, wide-eyed, your heart dangerously racing. 

“Y/N, listen… I know I can be a lot,” Jaehyun begins, his voice softer and more serious now. His grip on your hand tightens. “And you’re quiet and reserved, but I think we fit perfectly. With each other.”

You want to say something, but you keep your silence—you don’t really trust yourself to say anything in the state you’re in. 

“You know why?” Jaehyun continues rambling, his grin morphing into one of the most lovesick smiles you’ve seen, and you find yourself mirroring it. “I love making you smile, and I want to always keep on making you smile until, like, forever—”

Your heart makes a backflip, or something, but you feel your face flushing even more. “Jaehyun, stop–”

“And if you don’t like me back, that’s fine. That… is… totally okay! I will totally accept rejection gracefully, I’ll just be heartbroken for like, ten years—”

“Oh my god—”

“—but if you do like me, please tell me before I make a bigger fool of myself.”

Jaehyun pauses, catching his breath. His eyes find their way back to you, and in the silence he’s left between the two of you, you can’t hold yourself back anymore. 

You grab the front of his jacket and yank him forward.

“Shut up, Myung Jaehyun.”

And you kiss him. 

Jaehyun lets out a startled sound, but it isn’t long before he melts into you, his hands gripping your waist as he kisses you back, deep and eager. 

It isn’t shy. Nor is it soft. 

It’s everything—messy, desperate, and full of all of the things you couldn’t say to him.

By the time you pull away, Jaehyun is a breathless mess. He blinks at you like you had just punched him square in the face. 

It’s certainly out of character for you, you know that, but you didn’t expect Jaehyun to look absolutely smitten. 

“...Well.”

You pant, glaring up at him. “There, you finally shut up,” you mumble. 

Jaehyun licked his lips, his grin slow and teasing. “…You can do that anytime.”

You gasp, shoving him. 

Jaehyun giggles, grabbing your hand before you could run back inside. He pulls you close, and places your arms around his waist, in the warmth of his jacket. 

He rests his forehead against yours, your noses brushing. 

“So, are we official now, or do I need to sing another song?”

You look at him, your heart beating with a certain answer. 

I love you.

Though, of course, you’re too embarrassed to say that to him. You smack him before hiding your face in his chest. 

“Shut up, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun only laughs, and a warm feeling fills you up. He pulls you closer, hugging you tight. “Okay, sweetie, I think that’s enough singing for tonight.”

― © htaesan, 2025.

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀want more like this? check out the 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

[sturnsblogs]

Confessing in the rain

—

You and Chris loved each other—gosh, you did. Everyone saw it. Felt it. But would you ever admit it? No. Instead, you danced around it, pretending the long hugs and lingering touches meant nothing. Pretending that sitting on his lap, pressing kisses to his neck, and nearly kissing on the lips was just what best friends did.

But the texts? Those weren’t just friendly.

— Good morning, pretty. Hope you slept good. I was up late thinking about you. Don’t forget to eat something, yeah? Text me when you wake up.

— I hate being away from you. The day drags when I don’t see you. I know we’re just best friends, but… I don’t think best friends are supposed to miss each other like this.

— Night, angel. Sleep good for me, okay? Wish I was there to keep you warm. You always complain about the cold… bet you’d be all curled up against me if I was there.

Then there was the jealousy. The way his jaw clenched when you laughed at another guy’s joke. The way your mood soured when he so much as gave another girl attention. You both had no claim over each other, but you sure acted like you did.

Which is why you were arguing now.

“You’re being ridiculous, Chris,” you huffed, your arms crossed over your chest. “She was just being nice. It wasn’t that deep.”

Chris let out a bitter laugh, raking a hand through his hair. “Right. Not that deep. Just like it’s never that deep when I talk to another girl, huh? Except—oh wait—it is that deep when I do it.”

“That’s different,” you shot back before you could stop yourself.

His brows lifted, a humorless chuckle escaping him. “Different?” He took a step closer, his voice lower now. “How?”

You swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze. You didn’t have an answer. Or at least, not one you were willing to say out loud.

Chris scoffed. “Exactly.” He exhaled sharply, his jaw tight. “You know what? I’m done fighting over something we won’t even admit.”

Before you could say anything, he turned on his heel and stormed out the door.

You heard it before you saw it—the rain, pounding against the pavement, soaking everything in sight. But that didn’t stop him. He walked right out into it, the storm swallowing him whole, his hands on his hips as he stared up at the sky like it could give him the answers he was looking for.

Your heart lurched. You didn’t think—you just ran after him.

“Chris!” you shouted, your bare feet slapping against the wet pavement as you chased him into the downpour. The cold instantly bit at your skin, your clothes clinging to your body. “Chris, stop—”

“Why?” He spun around to face you, his expression wrecked with frustration, with something deeper—something raw. “So we can go back inside and keep pretending? Keep acting like this—us—isn’t more than it is?”

You sucked in a shaky breath, your lips parting, but no words came out.

Chris shook his head, running both hands down his rain-soaked face. “I can’t do this anymore,” he muttered. His voice cracked. “I can’t—”

And then, before you could process what was happening, his hands were on your face, his lips crashing against yours.

It was desperate, urgent, a kiss that tasted like every argument, every unsaid confession, every time you held back. His hands tangled into your hair, gripping you like he was terrified you’d slip away. You melted against him, kissing him back just as hard, your fingers digging into the wet fabric of his hoodie.

When he pulled away, his forehead pressed against yours, he was breathless. “I love you,” he admitted, the words slipping from his lips like a prayer. “I fucking love you, and I don’t care if it ruins everything. I can’t pretend anymore.”

Your heart pounded, your breath shaky as you stared at him, rain dripping from his lashes.

Chris let out a sharp exhale, shaking his head. “I know I’m scared. I know I have commitment issues, and I know I’ve spent years running from this exact thing, but I don’t care anymore. I don’t care how long it takes, I don’t care what happens—I want you. I want us.” His voice broke slightly, his grip tightening on your waist. “And if it takes me a while to figure it out, if I fuck up, if I need time to adjust—I just need to know you won’t leave. That you’ll let me love you the way I want to. The way I already do.”

Tears welled in your eyes, mixing with the rain, and you didn’t even hesitate before pulling him back in. This time, the kiss was softer, slower, but just as consuming.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you murmured against his lips. “I love you too, Chris.”

And this time, finally, neither of you had to pretend.

—

A/N- YAYAYAYYA

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @jimmasterflashh @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @cass-sturn

[miramelo]

I’m on my hands and knees I need more hidden in the garden au lore. Specifically- I have these questions

Does sy consider herself a trans woman in ur au? Or is it a self defense mechanism that will never go away

Is sy the head disciple then and PLEASE WHATS THE RELATIONSHIP BEFWREN HER AND BINGHE

also what’s her relationship w the other peak lords?? Does she find out abt sqh being airplane?

I love this au I’m gonna screaaaaaammmmkkmm

Other comments

Waiter waiter! More Shen yuan angst please!

And

Finally some good fucking food

The more I like a character the more I have to make them suffer<3

The thing with SY gender Is a little complicated, there's ups and downs, she does use It a a defense mechanisms but that makes It so she's paranoid AND afraid of what people will do if they find out(they would probably brush It off but SY brain blows It out of proporcion and truly believes If they find out=she will die, either as colateral or under gruesome circunstancias, thinks Sj will trow him away.

he even forgets he isn't a cis woman in more than one ocasión when she's older

He doesn't know If it's because it makes him feel safe(ish) or because he wants to be a woman just because he can, he honestly never thought about changing his body to make his cover easier and air tight and he doesn't know If he will want to in the future.

She's not the head disciple, at least not when LBH arrives at the peak. She does help around and does work that the head disciple should do but she's more like SJ secretary, sometimes acts like a substitute teacher and gives one on one to those that REALLY need help catching up or If they want to advance the curriculum.

The relationship he has with LBH Is... How do I say this. Imagine you are born in a world with a protagonist, he might suffer but he will end up safe no matter what, revered and adored by hundreds.

And then there's you, who the world beat and who doesn't know If they will live another day, your suffering doesn't mean you will be safe or that things will get better. You are just a stepping stone, an unnamed background character. Your fate and the fate of a lot of people you know depends on not making this person mad. Are you nice to him because you actually want to or because you are afraid?

LBH ends up joining their group(SY, NYY, MF) because he needs to catch up, and also they aré the nicer shixiong he has

At first, MF ignores him for the most part, NYY treats him like a kid much younger than he is and SY only interviene If others are ganging up on him.

SY can't be showing favoritism for no reason, first LBH has to prove himself to his martial siblings, LBH gets a puppy crush just because SY acts like a decent human being. That's how starved for affection he Is. He gets jealous of MF and NYY but they end up being friends.

he admires SY after finding out she's also from a humble background vía NYY, it's a thing that most people forget. And starts to follow their group around when he has free time.

SY Is actually quite liked and respected by the peak lords because of his personality, she's smart but humble, patient but not a pushover, willing to fight for what she believes but mediates the Situation and doesn't just jump to the gun sword

A lot of them treat her like a favored(their only) meimei, a more likeable version of SQQ.

She does have problems with 3 of them:

QQQ still can't believe SY refused to enter or change to her peak once she became a disciple officially. She doesn't talk or think highly of SQQ which means SY doesn't like her and did try to fight her once or twice when she was younger after she asked and implied unsavory things.

LQG has the habit of putting his foot in his mouth, he acts before he thinks and SY usually chews him out(in a passive-agressive backhanded way that usually sounds nice) when he tries to brush off and justify what he does wrong because he believes it's right, he's also biased against SQQ and often fight because of that so SY has to mediate OBVIOUSLY takin' her shizun's side.

SQH creeps SY out, he stares at her, sometimes too intensely. When SY arrived at the peak she realized that he tried to be with her alone more than once, tried to bribe her and she thinks the worst(because It hadn't been too long since she got out of a traumatic situation) she doesn't trust him at all knowing what she does and tells SQQ about It so he beats the crap out of him but doesn't tell anyone why.

When she does find out about SQH being basically god she gets so angry and breaks down, SQH feels horrible finding out what SY has been throught(still doesn't know she's not cis) which causes another misunderstanding but after they fix that he becomes like an uncle SY can vent to and run to when everything Is too much and she doesn't want to burden SQQ

SPOILER FOR THE AU:

SY Is truly afraid during the whole conference/abyss event but not because of LBH but because It looks like she can't fight fate. SQQ arrives and sees SY on the ground looking scared of LBH and ofc he pushes the beast away from her. The last thing LBH hears Is SY screaming(qi deviation)

So LBH doesn't think SY hates him but believes that she is terrified of him and he thinks that's much worse.

SY fights SHL but still gets without a cure so her days are counted but she thinks dying like that Is a kindness for her, she becomes more ruthless with others because she thinks that gives them a higher chance of survival before she dies.

[sunshineangel0]

chapter nine

pairing- Bang Chan x OC (Chi Nakamura) genre- Slow burn, romantic comedy, slice of life word count- 1.4k warnings- Mild language, secondhand embarrassment, screaming best friend, excessive blushing, emotional chaos, mentions of kissing hihihihihi a/n- You ever wake up after a life-altering kiss and suddenly forget how to function as a human being? Yeah. Chi we feel you girllll.

Chi woke up with his name still on her lips.

The morning light was barely a whisper, sneaking past the edge of her curtains in soft, golden slivers. Her bedsheets were twisted around her legs like she’d fought off a dream in her sleep. Her room was quiet, too quiet, except for the steady hum of the city outside—a distant car horn, the low rumble of early traffic, someone shouting down the block.

But inside her chest? Chaos.

Her pulse thundered as the memory played back with perfect, unbearable clarity.

The press of his hands at her waist. The soft brush of his fingertips when he touched her like she might vanish. The warmth of his breath, sweet and nervous, as it hovered just inches from her lips. And the way he’d looked at her—like she was a question he finally wanted the answer to.

When he kissed her, it hadn’t been careful. It had been honest. Raw. Like he’d been holding something back for so long it had nowhere else to go.

She could still feel it. Could still taste it.

Her eyes snapped open.

“Oh my God.”

She rolled over and shoved her face into the pillow, letting out a long, muffled groan. Her heart was still racing like it hadn’t gotten the memo that it was a new day. She kicked the sheets off entirely, staring at the ceiling like it had answers.

This was bad. Not because she regretted it.

Hell no.

She could relive that kiss in her head on repeat and not get tired of it. But now there was this yawning, silent gap after it—like stepping off a cliff and realizing mid-air you forgot to pack a parachute.

What now?

Were they supposed to talk about it? Pretend it never happened? Was she supposed to text him? Or wait and act cool and hope to God he did first?

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Chi froze.

The vibration rattled against the wood like a tiny earthquake. She turned her head slowly, like looking at a wild animal that might bolt. Her hand inched toward it, her breath catching in her throat.

Chris ☕

The contact name blinked up at her. Her heart did something violent in her chest. She unlocked it, fingers suddenly clammy.

Chris ☕: Are you working today?

Chi blinked at the screen.

That was it?

That was the message?

Like he hadn’t kissed her under moonlight and stage lights and stars?

She stared at the text for a solid thirty seconds, unsure whether to laugh or scream.

Chi: Yeah. Why?

The dots appeared instantly.

Chris ☕: No reason.

She dropped the phone onto the bed like it was cursed.

Then flopped back onto the mattress and dragged a hand down her face.

This was going to be a disaster.

The café smelled like fresh bread and roasted espresso beans. A comforting, familiar warmth. The floors were still slick from the morning mop, the metal machines humming to life one by one. Outside, people drifted past in coats and scarves, the air crisp with late autumn chill. Inside, Chi moved like she was on autopilot—refilling napkins, aligning mugs, checking the pastries in the case. But her hands kept shaking just a little too much.

The door chimed.

She didn’t look up.

She didn’t need to.

A soft scuff of sneakers on tile. The creak of the door swinging closed.

Her back stiffened. Her fingers curled tighter around the portafilter.

It’s fine. You’re fine. Just look.

She took a deep breath, turned—and froze.

Chris stood just inside the door, framed by the sunlight spilling in behind him.

Gray hoodie. Black sweats. Hair still damp, curling slightly at the ends. He looked warm from the shower, skin flushed, soft shadows under his eyes. And when he smiled—just barely, just enough—it sent every rational thought in her brain scattering.

Their eyes locked.

And for one heartbeat, everything went still.

All she could think about was his mouth on hers. The way he’d held her like he didn’t want the night to end.

Chris raised an eyebrow.

“You good?”

Chi blinked, jolted back into her body.

Abort. Abort.

She spun around so fast she nearly dropped the tamper. “What? Yeah. Fine. Totally fine.”

Chris let out a quiet hum, the kind that said he didn’t believe her for a second. The silence between them stretched.

Not the easy, companionable silence they usually shared. Not the kind filled with music and eye-rolls and playful insults.

This one was heavier. Charged.

Chris leaned against the counter like it was his throne, watching her.

“So,” he said finally, voice low.

Chi refused to meet his eyes. “So…?”

“You’re really just gonna pretend nothing happened?”

Her hands froze over the milk steamer. Her heart thumped loud enough to echo in her ears. She turned slowly, like every movement mattered.

Chris was watching her like he was trying to figure her out. Like he was giving her room to run—but hoping she wouldn’t.

“…Are you?” she asked.

Chris tilted his head, eyes never leaving hers.

“Nope,” he said. The ‘p’ popped like a match being struck.

Her breath caught.

She turned back to the machine, needing something—anything—to focus on.

“Well,” she muttered, “congrats. You win. You get to make me flustered at work now.”

Chris grinned, leaning in.

“I already made you flustered last night.”

She nearly dropped the cup.

She spun around, pointing at him. “You do not get to say that before I’ve had caffeine.”

He held up his hands, surrendering. But the grin stayed.

Chi groaned and pressed her forehead to the counter.

This man was going to ruin her life.

It didn’t help that Chris settled into his usual stool like it was his personal lounge. He sipped his drink, quiet, amused, eyes flicking up to watch her every few minutes like she was the most interesting thing in the room.

Which would’ve been fine—if Felix and Han hadn’t walked in next.

They took one look at the scene and immediately locked in.

Han tilted his head. “Hyung?” Chris sipped. “Hmm?”

Felix stared. Then slowly, slowly, his grin spread across his face.

“Oh my god.”

Han looked between them. “Wait. Are you—?? YOURE COFFFEE GIRL”

Chris kept sipping. Said nothing.

And yet… somehow said everything.

Felix gasped, clutching his chest. “SP ITS TRUE, YOU FINALLY GOT A GIRLFRIEND?!”

Chris choked on his drink.

Chi, behind the counter, made a sound that wasn’t human. “What—NO,” she said, way too fast.

Han blinked. “Then why is he smiling like that?”

Chris shrugged. “Maybe I just like my coffee today.”

Chi glared at him with the force of a thousand suns.

Felix smirked. “Mmmhmm. Sure.”

The storage room was dim and stuffy, lit only by a single flickering overhead bulb. Boxes of sugar packets and to-go lids were stacked to the ceiling. Chi was trying to pretend she was doing inventory when Mina stormed in like she’d just kicked the door down.

Hands on hips. Murder in her eyes.

“What is going on with you?” she demanded. “You’ve been twitchy since that concert.”

Chi tried to sidestep. Mina sidestepped harder.

“You’re fidgety. Distracted. You spilled a latte on a guy in a three-piece suit this morning.”

“It was his fault,” Chi muttered.

“Did. Something. Happen?”

Chi said nothing.

Mina’s eyes went wide. “NO WAY. SOMETHING DID HAPPEN.”

Chi stared at the shelf like it would open up and swallow her.

Mina leaned in, squinting. “Was it someone at the concert? Was it an idol? OH MY GOD, WAS IT AN IDOL?!”

Chi groaned, backing into the shelf.

“WAIT—IT WAS, WASN’T IT?”

Chi mumbled something. Mina stepped closer. “What was that?”

Chi sighed. “It was Chris.”

Beat.

Mina blinked. “Chris... like coffee guy Chris?”

Chi nodded. Mina screamed.

Chi lunged, clapped a hand over her mouth. “Shut up!”

Mina peeled her hand off. “You kissed the guy you’ve been slow-burning with over cappuccinos for three months?!”

Chi dragged a hand down her face. “Yes.”

Mina stared. Then her jaw dropped. Her mind went back to the concert last night. Chis sudden disapperance. And that one specific member went by the name-

“No. No way. Are you telling me—ARE YOU TELLING ME—”

Chi winced. “Yup.”

“—THAT CHRIS IS BANG CHAN?!”

Chi nodded once. Mina screamed again.

Chi tackled her. “OH MY GOD. SHUT UP.”

“You kissed a K-pop star.”

“Technically he kissed me first.”

“YOU’RE IN A SITUATIONSHIP WITH BANG CHAN.”

“Stop saying his full name like that.”

“You’re going to be famous.” “I’m going to get canceled.”

Mina put a hand to her chest. “I need to sit down.”

“You need to shut up.”

“I need to text someone.”

Chi snatched her phone. “NO ONE FINDS OUT. THIS DIES HERE.”

Mina pointed dramatically. “You are living my Wattpad fantasy.”

Chi glared. “You’re never letting this go, are you?”

Mina grinned, wild and victorious. “Not even a little bit.”

©sunshineangel0 𖹭 if you liked this work, please consider reblogging, commenting or liking! xoxo franzi 💋

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(if you wanna be added to the taglist comment below!)

[yourlocalravendork]

A musical history lesson

AN: I'm writing this on the way back from seeing Hamilton so once again I am hoping this reaches the right niche. Currently thinking of Spencer wincing at every inaccuracy or crying into his sweater during it's quiet uptown or who lives who dies who tells your story.

CW: reader is a theatre kid (is that even a warning?), spoilers for Hamilton I guess, references to six the musical and Wicked

You were a theatre kid. A quiet one at that. You didn't talk about it however you had your programs proudly displayed in your bedroom. It wasn't something you'd told Spencer about. It was your own little slice of personal life away from your job.

Penelope found out when you came in with a subtle reference to Six the Musical pinned on your lapel. A simple pin, 'sorry not sorry,' something that no one would notice unless they were a fan. With that Penelope had to ask you about it. Since then, she'd become your go to theatre friend.

One day, Spencer was trying to find you and decided to check Penelope's 'batcave'. Inside, he found the two of you, karaoke on screen, recreating Popular from Wicked. Needless to say the pure joy on your face was something Spencer wasn't going to forget it anytime soon.

"Hey guys," Spencer said, knocking on the already open doors. You freezed and just couldn't help but stare like a child that had been caught jumping on the bed. "Hey Spence," you managed to get out. "Wicked?" Spencer asked with a soft laugh. Penelope nodded eagerly. "Did you know your partner was a theatre kid? Honestly, I'm jealous of the shows they've seen." Unlike you, Penelope was more than happy to preach about how many shows she's seen. "They're going to Hamilton next week. I am so jealous." Spencer raised an eyebrow, unaware that was your plans. "Yeah, I'm going with one of my friends," You confirmed with a small nod. Spencer's raised eyebrow turned into a soft smile at your sheepish expression.

The day had come and you were getting ready at home. You were always one to dress nicely at the theatre. Then your phone went off. Your friend had to cancel. Great. You had a spare ticket now and you didn't exactly want to go alone. So you messaged Spencer. You explained everything and he was immediately on board. He wanted to share this little side of your world with you.

And so the two of you were sat in the theatre, Spencer adjusting his glasses and wondering why everyone was taking a picture of the stage. You were practically buzzing, hands eagerly around his bicep. The message about silencing phone played and you excitedly squeezed his arm. Then Spencer heard it. Or rather felt it. The beginning notes thundered through the theatre and Spencer was already gripped. It just drew you in and held you in a choke hold.

However, every so often, he'd wince softly. Calling Hamilton's mother a whore? Well, that was most likely a rumour started by her ex husband, Spencer thought. Martha Washington named her feral tomcat after Hamilton? Regardless of the fact that they said it was true, Spencer knew it wasn't easy to prove since there was no evidence of the feral cats records so that was up in debate. He winced again when events were mildly out of order, like how Philip Hamilton was killed after the election of 1800. But you were enjoying it and Spencer was enjoying watching you enjoy it.

The first act was fun. During the interval, you were excitedly gushing to Spencer about different tidbits of theatre facts about the show and before you knew it, it was the second act. You were loving it. Until Stay Alive reprise. Spencer heard you sniff. He looked down, seeing tears fall down your face. The tears only came out more when the opening notes to Its Quiet Uptown filled the theatre. You practically burried yourself in Spencer's side. He gently stroked your arm, trying to soothe you. You couldn't help but feel all warm and fuzzy. Spencer really was a sweetheart.

By the end of it, you were crying back into his jumper, the soft material absorbing your tears. Eliza's gasp only further broke you. You were one of the first one to stand for the ovation. Spencer smiled softly at seeing you in such an emotional state. It was endearing to see you so passionately invested.

"So, what did you think of it?" Spencer asked once you'd made it back to your car. "I cried at least three times and it emotionally destroyed me," you said simply, wiping the few remaining tears from your eyes, "Ten out of ten, would see again." Spencer chuckled and smiled as he climbed into the passenger seat. "Did you enjoy it?" you asked, climbing into the driver's side, eager to hear Spencer's opinion. "There were some… Inaccuracies," Spencer shrugged. "I could tell," you laughed, "You were wincing and it looked like you were mentally correcting the show." "It was good, don't get me wrong," Spencer reassured you. "So can I bring you to the next show?" you asked. It would be nice to bring him along more. A cute date for the two of you. It meant a lot to Spencer too, you asking him that. You were letting him into that little corner of your life that you kept hidden from everyone else at work. "I'd be honoured to accompany you to your next show." And as those words left his mouth, the smile that appeared on your face made every future show worth it if it meant to see that excited, pure smile.

[wheremermaidsdwell]

OK so i wanna talk about some of the choices i made and why since this is a very specific set up i used. spoilers!

I didn't believe eddie would ever take an office job even in grief so i needed a set up for him to go in. he'd be unhealthy, maybe he WOULD lose a job, he'd have trouble moving on, but eddie would WANT to remember her, he'd cling to her, he wouldn't want to forget.

fully believed eddie would get up to SOME HELLY SHIT upon being trapped. obviously people are formed by their experiences and upbringing but eddie reacted in a very specific way to bullying and shitty parents and being an outcast and i couldn't see him taking 'you are trapped to work forever' as an acceptable outcome even when mind wiped.

the breakroom standoff is a major divergence and i thought about if i should invent some harsher punishment but like. what???? idk. it made sense that eddie is a dick about it and only gives in when he realizes he needs to act after getting the flash of memory.

with needing him to go in for a reason (knowing Chrissy is there) that posed who told him and well. El is an escapee and I'm throwing Nancy in there and @intosnarkness helped me figure it out.

if El is out and maybe someone else (i mention barb leaving and maybe she's reintegrated and in on this or maybe not!) so owens has been working on reintegration awhile and eddie is committed so no 'running off at the first sign of sickness' that supposedly doomed petey. also. this is fanfic and i say he lives :P

it's interesting. i did a final edit after the finale and thought about changing my exit to the stairs but i really like them in the elevator ascending from hell. and it gives the 'may i request a hug' throwback. also i wrote them kissing in the elevator and chrissy changing to her innie mid kiss BEFORE the show did it. look it's just too good to pass up i'm not shocked we both did it lol. Ms Casey is surprisingly compliant in the show, running with him pretty easily, but also there's an alarm going. I thought chrissy would be hesitant, especially with no force chasing them. i did try an ending with someone after them and decided i didn't like it and it didn't make sense.

it didn't make sense because in the show the overtime plan gets found out by cobel seeing mark and i had no way of establishing mrs cunningham or jason having an in with any of the other people where they might see them. it'd be a leap. I think people would have gone with it, it was going to be jason after them, but that means you also have to have them leave home right away because they are more directly in danger and i didn't like what it was doing to the ending.

Lead Me Into the Dark

Hellcheer Severance AU one shot M 12k read the warnings please

Why doesn’t he know who he is? That’s not normal. A person should know who they are. He’s very sure he should know who he is. Eddie M. starts his job on Hawkins National's severed floor, completely unaware of the very important reason why Eddie Munson did this to him.

[gl-saveme]

Was I really May's first love? // As long as Sun misses me.

correct response btw when you find out you are your crush's first love (not your comatose twin sister) and when your crush missed talking to you (even if it was only a few days and it's your fake persona)

Namtan Tipnaree as Ai-Oon in Pluto Ep 8 Milk Pansa as Ongsa in 23.5 Ep 2

[crayoneater12]

hey that's cool

speaking of money

I've been meaning to talk about the book I'm reading in school for English

So it's like a play about a poor black family and like the lady running the house I forget her name but they call her Mama (but shes more like a grandma)

ANd then there's Mama's kids Walter Lee and Beneatha (my favorite) and Walter is like trying to invest in a liquor store and Beneatha is going to school to become a doctor which was a really big thing because she's a woman and back then (I think the 1950's?) if anything they were nurses

And then there's Walter's wife Ruth who is kind of just there and makes eggs for most of Scene 1 Act 1 which is all we've read so far

And there's also Travis I think and his whole thing is that he needs 50 cents for school that's it. Also he's described as being handsome and young and stuff like that I think?? unless I'm just delusional I guess but ten we actually watched scene 1 act 1 is NOT that like he's a little ass boy but anyway

M English teacher wanted to know who we thought the most misunderstood fo the family was (she said Walter) and honestly I think that just boiling them down to misunderstood is kind of a waste because there's s omuch more to it

Mama is the most misled because of her disapproval of Beneatha's atheism brought up later in Act 1 Scene 1 religion, especially christianity was incredibly idealized back then and to be honest you can't really blame her that much

Beneatha is the most misunderstood imo because throughout the entire Act 1 Scene 1 she just talks about wanting to be a doctor, not wanting to be married, and eventually, not believing in God and I am really sympathizing with her because they treat these beliefs and ideas as if they're ridiculous and Mama even slaps her due to her atheism

Ruth is the one I feel most bad for because during the discussion of Beneatha's atheism she was on Mama's side on the topic but based on her behavior I feel that she was conflicted and felt sorry for Beneatha and did't feel that slapping her was necessary Also after the fight she serves as the mediator which honestly I feel that SO BAd and I really feel bad for her because that was kinda awful

itravis... he justed want the f50ty cents man

oh and I just don't like walter

3 in jetpack joyride

3s in jetpack joyride!

distrack #2 against @crayoneater12 !!!

[prlssprfctn]

We should talk more about shoes that Batfam wear with their suits. Like, surely, they have some special shoes that are made specifically for the vigilante activies, but imagine them forgetting to switch it on different occasions?

Bruce, hurrying in a place of crime after running away from gala, so goons die of laughter seeing Batman in rich-ass, patent leather shoes, and keep making fun of him.

Dick gets an emergency call in the middle of his salsa dancing classes, and everyone witnesses Nightwing's perfect acrobatic skills followed by a clicking of his boots.

Jason intentionally comes to the shootout in his cowboy boots. Was he inspired by Dante from Devil May Cry? Was it Roy's idea? Who fucking knows. But he keeps making awful puns the whole time.

Tim absolutely knowingly keeps putting on his favourite converses, because he doesn't give a fuck and other shoes make his feet hurt. Also, he looks cool, and teenagers adore Red Robin for that alone.

Cass fights in her ballet flats once. It should be funny, but the sight of her, kicking everyone's asses while acting like she is in the middle of the ballet practice, makes everyone shiver for another few weeks.

Stephanie buys herself those kinds of shoes that light up in neon when you step on the ground harshly. She decides she doesn't want to wear anything else in her whole life and gets excited when she they light up with violet, matching her suit.

Damian once woke up by his father in the middle of the night during some important case. He is so sleepy that he leaves for the patrol in his plushie, cow-themed slippers. Others are too sleep-deprived to notice.

Duke has the worst week in his life thanks to goons and finals. He is so frustrated that he just... throws his flip-flops straight in the criminal's head. The video made by some random civilian circulates in the internet non-stop.

[boowritess]

simon got himself a young girlfriend. he really shouldn't be entertaining, ruining, a sweet thing like her but he can't help himself. he's depraved like that. wanting to ruin such a sweet, innocent thing. make it so they only think of him...

her parents loathe him. which is not a surprising reaction.

but simon's too big, too imposing, to make them say anything to his face, and oh, his sweet little thing has teeth that snap at her parents when they try to talk about how he's too old. too rough. he won't treat her right.

they're right, of course. but he's good at making his little girlfriend forget about his wrongdoing just by a little sweet whispering and gently coaxing her thighs apart with a rough, scared hand.

however, what he wasn't expecting was finding out about his young girlfriends older sister.

you.

there's an age gap between you and your sister. you're nearly the same age as simon. but that's not the only thing simon takes note off.

you're more fulled out, in places that simon has no business looking at, the innocent ones and the not so innocent ones. there's a couple more inches on you than your sister. not nearly as tall as he, but he thinks he likes it.

but what really gets him goin'. you don't react the same way to him like your parents did. there was no disdain, disgust or even fear in your eyes when you looked at him.

no.

instead he got a wide smile, a hair-flick over your shoulder and a hug. pulling him in, despite his rigid tenseness. patting his back.

"oh aren't you sweet?" your voice is smooth, and almost coo like when you pull away. eyes sparkling with what simon can only describe is warmth.

and while your parents avoid him when he's around. when you're home, you do the exact opposite. you hover around your sister, making sure she's eating well, looking after herself, and then you do the exact same thing to simon.

showering him in the same doting affection as your sister. making them both a plate of food, a lot of food. making sure they're warm and tucked in at night. it's giving them your card when you send your sister to the shops for something, and quieting simon when he says he has his own. doing your sisters laundry AND his.

and the praise. god the praise. it fucking wrecks him. despite most of it being innocent.

he's helping do the dishes when you come in. "oh aren't you being a good boy?" you chime, voice so warm and sweet. you pat his back, and there's a genuine smile on your face. "i'll make you a cuppa for doing so well."

"you ate all your food? aren't you a good lad? huh? c'mon then, make room for dessert for being good." you'll say, patting his stomach and moving to the fridge.

it sends him into a whirlwind.

he could be spending days with his girlfriend's parents, who act like he's not even there. too intimated by this grown man. which he liked. he likes that. imposing people. making them uncomfortable with his mere presence. it's what his little girlfriend likes.

but then you come in. being all nurturing and sweet. coddling his little girlfriend and then doing the same to him despite you and him nearly being the same age.

then he starts to realize that you're treating him like how you treat your younger sister. treating him like he's young and naive. who can't look after himself. completely helpless. praising him for the basics a human adult should not be getting praised for. treating him like a child.

you've been fucking treating him like some fresh out the womb kid this whole fucking time and he's only seeing it now.

and he really can't help it.

but he fucking likes it.

he aches for it.

in the barracks. late at night. instead of flicking through the pictures of his little girlfriend to help quell the ache in him.

he thinks about you. your warm perfume. the reassuring pats. the way praise seems to just smooth off your tongue so sweetly.

"good boy." fuck.

he stares at the mess he made, panting hard. letting out a groan of frustration when he thinks of you again. and for the third time his cock twitches, the ache returning again.

that's when he comes to the inevitable conclusion.

he's fucking ruined.

a/n: idk where i was going with this but. here u go xx love ya'll, drink water xx part 2 maybe idk.

[urmum-lovesme]

Bunny

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: I actually said I'd never do another series again but here we are 😼. Looollll anywho, Y/N literally is literally a walking definition of older child syndrome and her and Rafe hate eachother so much stop. This is gonna be such a good enemies to lovers get me outta here

warnings: mentions of drugs, smoking, drinking, a strip club (duh), naked women, drug dealing, aggressive behaviour.

(P2)

The faucet dripped steadily, each drop hitting the rust-stained sink with an echo that filled the quiet of the house. Y/N stood in the cramped bathroom, arms crossed, lips pressed together in frustration as she watched the slow but relentless leak. 

Another thing broken. 

Another thing they couldn’t afford to fix.

She let out a slow breath, running a hand down her face before turning sharply at the sound of footsteps thudding through the hallway. She knew them well—JJ, heading for the door, heading out. Again.

“JJ.” 

Her voice was firm, but it barely slowed him down as he moved through the house, searching for his keys. He muttered, pushing past the worn couch and shoving a hand into the pocket of his frayed shorts.

“Not now, Y/N, alright?” 

“JJ, seriously.” 

She stepped into his path, arms out now, forcing him to stop. 

“Can you just- can you talk to me for five seconds?”

“What?”

His blue eyes flicked up to hers, but there was impatience in them, already halfway gone even as he stood in front of her. Y/N clenched her jaw, gesturing back toward the bathroom. 

“Shit’s breaking faster than I can fix it. We need money and I can’t do this alone.”

“I’ll figure something out, okay?” 

JJ sighed, rubbing a hand down his face as he stepped around her, heading toward the door again. She let out a humorless scoff watching her brother avoid the conversation- once again.

 “What about that job interview at the gas station I told you about last week?”

She’d told him about it last monday, she could still remember begging the manager to give him a chance, given his reputation- well it wasn't the best. JJ’s shoulders tensed slightly, and for the first time, he hesitated. 

“Uh… yeah, about that…”

Y/N’s stomach dropped. She already knew the answer before he finished his sentence. She spoke slowly, warning in her tone.

 “JJ” 

“Look, me and the Pogues were fishing, and we kinda… lost track of time.”

He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. Y/N shut her eyes, exhaling sharply as she lifted her hands to cover her face. 

“Are you serious?”

“I mean, technically, I did show up. Just… a little late.”

JJ let out a half-hearted chuckle, like maybe that’d soften the blow. She dropped her hands, shaking her head as exhaustion settled deep in her bones. 

“Jesus, Jay. Do you even care?”

JJ frowned but didn’t answer right away. He knew he was being a little unreasonable- but in his defense he was just a teen. His silence however told her everything. She looked at him and momentarily took in his appearance, his messy blond hair, his summer kissed skin; she envied him a little, the way he was always out and about, not worried, never stressed. She muttered, turning on her heel.

“Forget it” 

“Y/N—”

But she was already walking away, back toward the bathroom, back toward the leaking faucet, back toward everything she had to deal with alone. JJ hesitated for a second, watching her go, then sighed and yanked open the door. And then it shut behind him, leaving Y/N standing there in the silence. She swallowed hard, blinking back the stinging frustration behind her eyes.

"Yeah," she muttered to herself, voice barely above a whisper.

 "Guess I'll figure it out myself."

After a while she had given up on the leaky faucet, cleaning up the house- to the best of her ability- before settling down in the kitchen.The stack of bills sat on the dining table, a messy pile of final notices and overdue warnings. Y/N stared at them, her fingers running over the edges of the envelopes, as if touching them could somehow make the numbers smaller, make the debt disappear. The utilities, the rent- hell, even the grocery bill? It was all piling up faster than she could keep up with. Sometimes she wished she could turn back time, move back to when she didn't even know about all of this, before she showed her dad she could look after herself - and JJ… maybe then she wouldn't have this constant weight on her shoulders.

With a sigh, she dropped her head down onto the table, resting her forehead against the cool surface. Think, think, think. There had to be a way to come up with money, something quick, something that didn’t involve relying on JJ, because clearly that wasn’t an option either now. Her mind raced through possibilities, but every idea led to a dead end. The front door swung open and then slammed shut. Y/N didn’t even lift her head as heavy, stumbling footsteps made their way inside. 

She knew that gait all too well. 

Her jaw clenched as her father mumbled something incoherent under his breath, his words slurred, laced with whatever shit he had put in his system tonight. She stayed still, hoping, praying, that he’d just pass out somewhere and leave her be. Without a word to her, he shuffled through the house, disappearing into her bedroom. Y/N pursed her lips, lifting her head slightly as she listened to him rustling around in there. She knew better than to go after him. Whatever he was looking for- money, booze, something to pawn- she wasn’t about to get in his way.

Instead, she pushed back from the table, standing up slowly, her hands pressing against the wood as she steadied herself. The house was too quiet now, except for the occasional sound of drawers opening and closing in her room. Her stomach twisted. She needed to get out of here, needed to fix this mess before it swallowed her whole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She’d been driving with no real destination, letting the silence of the night and the hum of the engine settle her thoughts. She’s gripping the wheel tightly, her thoughts tangled in the mess of overdue payments, an empty fridge, and a father and brother who barely acknowledge her existence unless they want something.Then, as she’s driving through the dimly lit streets, she passes by it. The neon sign flickers, casting a dull pink glow onto the pavement, and without even thinking, she slams the brakes. Her car comes to a sudden stop in the middle of the empty street and can feel her seat belt digging into her chest momentarily, her heart pounding as she stares at the building.

It’s not like she’s never thought about it before. 

She’s heard things, seen the type of girls who walk in and out of there, all done up with money to spend. And right now, she has nothing- nothing but overdue bills and a house falling apart. Her hands grip the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. A part of her wants to just drive away, pretend she never even considered it. But another part of her- the part that’s desperate, the part that’s sick of drowning- knows this might be her only shot. She swallows hard, taking a deep breath before finally pulling her car to the curb. She sits there for a second, hands still on the wheel, staring at the entrance, she brings her hand up to rub it down her face, hand resting over her mouth as she thinks. 

Really thinks.

Then, before she can change her mind, she kills the engine and steps out.

The night air is cool against her skin, but it does nothing to settle the heat rising in her chest. Her heart is hammering, her stomach twisting as she closes the car door behind her. The pavement feels unsteady beneath her feet as she walks toward the entrance. The music from inside is faint but pulsing, the bass reverberating through the ground. She hesitates, staring at the worn-down exterior and the neon sign buzzing overhead. As she approached the door, something caught her eye- a flyer taped to the window, the bold letters glaring at her in the dimming light.

NOW HIRING

This is insane. 

She shouldn’t be here.

And yet, she doesn’t turn around, instead her fingers flex at her sides before she pushes the door open, stepping inside. The shift in atmosphere is immediate. The air is thick with perfume and alcohol, the dim lighting casting deep shadows across the room. The club isn’t packed- it’s late on a weekday- but there are still men scattered around, cash in hand, eyes glued to the stage. A girl moves fluidly under the colored lights, her body illuminated by pinks and blues as she wraps herself around the pole. Y/N swallows, forcing herself to keep walking, past the wandering eyes of men who glance at her but don’t linger. She doesn’t know exactly where she’s going, only that if she stops now, she’ll most likely lose her nerve.

She spots a bar toward the back and makes a beeline for it, hands slightly clammy. A woman stands behind the counter, pouring a drink for some guy in a suit. Y/N waits until she’s done before leaning in slightly. 

“Hey, um- do you know who I talk to if I’m looking for a job?”

The woman lifts a brow, gaze flicking over Y/N, taking her in. Then, without a word, she jerks her chin toward a door near the back as she picks up a glass on the counter and starts drying it. 

“Through there. Ask for Tommy.”

Y/N nods, her pulse jumping as she turns toward the door. This is it. She can still leave, still pretend she never came here. But instead, she takes a breath and pushes the door open. The door swings shut behind her with a dull thud, muffling the thumping bass from the main room. The air back here feels different- less suffocating, it’s dimly lit, the walls lined with old vintage posters of strippers and liquor crates, the faint scent of cigarettes lingers in the air.

Y/N’s eyes adjust quickly, landing on a man seated behind a cluttered desk, lazily counting a stack of cash. He looks to be in his late forties, broad-shouldered with thinning hair and a face that’s seen its fair share of rough nights. A half-smoked cigarette dangles between his fingers. He doesn’t look up immediately, just exhales a cloud of smoke before finally lifting his gaze to hers. His eyes sweep over her, slow and calculating. 

“You lost, sweetheart?”

“I saw you were hiring.”

Y/N shakes her head, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket.That piques his interest. He leans back in his chair, eyeing her with something between amusement and scrutiny. 

“That so?”

“Yeah. I—I need a job.”

She nods, trying to keep her voice steady. Tommy taps his fingers against the desk, sizing her up. 

“You ever danced before?”

Y/N hesitates for half a second, “No.”

He smirks like he expected that answer, responding with a slow nod as he places the money he was counting into an envelope labeled ‘Bambi’. 

“You got any experience bartending? Serving?”

“...I'm a waitress at the country club.”

His brow lifts, and for a moment, she thinks he’s going to laugh in her face. Instead, he sighs, rubbing a hand down his jaw, momentarily pausing as he closes up the envelope, puts it onto a pile and looks up to her. 

“So, what? You just walked in here hoping I’d throw you on stage?”

“I’m a fast learner.”

Y/N presses her lips together, shifting on her feet. Tommy watches her for a beat, then gestures toward the empty chair across from him. 

“Sit.”

She does, moving forward and lowering herself onto the chair in front of him, the leather squeaking a little as it makes contact with her bare thighs. He studies her in the dim light, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray. 

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N,” he says, dragging the word out like he’s tasting it. “You don’t look like a girl who just woke up one day and decided this is what she wanted to do. So tell me- what are you really doing here?”

“I need the money.”

Y/N clenches her jaw. Tommy hums, nodding like that doesn’t surprise him as he taps the ash of his cigarette on the edge of an empty whiskey glass. 

“That part’s obvious.” 

He leans forward slightly as he continues, resting his elbows on the table. 

“But I need to know what I’m dealing with. You got people who’ll come looking for you? A jealous boyfriend? Strict parents? Any reason this might come back to bite me in the ass?”

Y/N hesitates, because the truth is- complicated. JJ wouldn’t approve, not in a million years, his sister working in a strip club? There was no way he would be happy about it, but the more she thought about it, he’s barely around- and besides she is the older sibling. And Luke? She doubts he’d even notice with the way he’s always high out of his mind. Yet deep down she knew, if he did find out it certainly wouldn’t end well.

“No,” she says finally. 

“No one’s coming after me.”

Tommy watches her carefully, like he’s weighing her answer. Then, with a slow nod, he exhales another stream of smoke and flicks his butt of his cigarette into the glass. 

“Alright, Y/N… I’ll give you a shot.”

Relief floods her chest, but it’s short-lived as he continues.

“First things first- you start off small. No stage, not yet. You’ll work the floor. Waitress, maybe some private rooms if you’re up for it. Tips are yours, but the house gets a cut. If you prove you can handle yourself, we’ll talk about dancing.”

Y/N nods, ignoring the way her stomach tightens at the mention of private rooms. She can handle this. She has to. Tommy gestures toward the door. 

“Come in tomorrow night. Nine o’clock. One of the girls will show you the ropes.”

“Okay, thank you.”

He hums out as Y/N stands up, gripping the back of the chair briefly before letting go. As she turns to leave her hand reaching out for the door handle, Tommy’s voice stops her.

“One last thing, sweetheart.”

She glances back.

“I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

His gaze is sharp, knowing. Y/N doesn’t reply. What could she possibly say to him? She just nods once and steps back through the door, back into the neon-lit haze of the club.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dressing room hummed with chatter, the air thick with the scent of perfume, body shimmer, and a mix of fruity smoke drifting around. Mirrors lined the walls, reflecting girls in various states of getting ready- adjusting lingerie straps, applying a final coat of lip gloss, securing thigh-high stockings into garter belts. Y/N sat at one of the vanities, leaning in close as she fixed the last flick of her eyeliner. Her figure was wrapped in black lace, tiny straps and sheer panels leaving just enough to the imagination- but she still had a few finishing touches to go. Naomi- better known as Bambi- was beside her, placing her straightener down and popping her gum loudly as she smirked at Y/N through the mirror. 

“You’re getting faster at this,” She mused, eyes flicking down to Y/N’s hands as she fastened a delicate silver choker with a small heart pendant around her neck. 

“First week, you were takin’ forever in here. Now look at you. A real pro, Bunny.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled, smoothing out a stray strand of hair before reaching for her gloss. She teased, voice light but with that tired edge that never quite went away these days.

“Yeah, yeah. You gonna pat me on the head next?” 

“Mmm, maybe after your first private dance of the night. If you’re good girl.”

Bambi grinned and Y/N huffed a laugh, pressing her lips together to even out the gloss. A month and some into this life, and she wasn’t sure if she was settling in or just getting better at pretending she had. It was easier now- knowing the regulars, knowing what songs meant what, knowing how to smile just enough but not too much. The money helped. 

God, did the money help.

She glanced down at her phone, screen lighting up with a notification. 

JJ :  Staying at John B’s 

JJ  :  See you tmr

JJ  :  Good luck at work!!!

Y/N stares at the screen for a moment, her stomach twisting like it always does when she thinks about how much she’s keeping from him. He thinks she picked up an extra night cleaning shift at the country club since that’s what she told him. He has no idea that while he’s crashing at the chateau, she’s slipping into heels and stepping onto a stage under flashing neon lights. She locks her phone, pushing the thought away. 

Guilt won’t pay the bills.

“Busy night, you think?”

She spoke as she ignored the message, flipping the phone over and looking back at the girl next to her. Bambi gave a lazy stretch, rolling out her shoulders. 

“Always is on a Friday. High rollers’ll be in. You might get lucky.”

“Yeah, real lucky.”

Y/N scoffed, grabbing her perfume and spritzing it lightly over her collarbones. Bambi side-eyed her, then leaned in with a smirk. 

“Come on, Bunny. You might actually have fun tonight. If not, at least make it worth your while.”

Y/N just hummed, adjusting the strap on her heel as the familiar pulse of bass-heavy music leaked in from the club floor. The music thrums through the floor as Y/N steps out of the dressing room, the familiar pulse of bass settling into her bones. The club is alive tonight- packed booths, the bar swarmed with men flashing cash, neon strobes flickering over clinking glasses and loose laughter. Bambi walks beside her, adjusting the strap of her bra as she surveys the crowd. 

“It’s a good night,” she muses, eyes gleaming as a man waves down a waitress with a fat roll of bills in his hand. 

“Everyone’s in a generous mood hmm.”

 “Looks like it.”

Y/N hums, already spotting a few regulars scattered through the crowd. The air is thick with perfume and cologne, the scent of whiskey and something heavier and smokier lingering beneath. Girls weave through the crowd, balancing trays of drinks, draping themselves over men who let them. The DJ’s set switches, the bass rattling the room, A voice calls from near the DJ booth, and Bambi nudges Y/N with her hip, a smirk tugging at her lips as she sends her a little kiss.

“Knock ’em dead, baby.”

Y/N exhales, rolling her shoulders back as she steps into the chaos of the club. The energy is thick tonight- bodies packed around the stage, eager hands already tossing bills, the bass thrumming deep in her ribs. She grips the pole, the cool metal grounding her for a brief moment before she moves.The nerves are familiar but distant now, part of the routine; she’s used to it- the way the outside world fades the second she steps onto the platform.

Her body flows with the music, slow and teasing at first, rolling her hips as she wraps a leg around the pole and lifts herself with ease. She spins, the world blurring for a second, heels gliding effortlessly over the platform. A whistle cuts through the noise. A few more bills flutter at her feet.

She twists, sliding down with a deliberate drag before pushing herself back up, hooking her knee and arching her back; thighs squeezing the pole as she extends her body in a perfect line. The music pulses, dictating her movements- fluid and sultry. For a moment, there’s nothing but the heat of the lights and the electric charge of the crowd.

But then as she lifts her gaze mid-spin, her eyes catch on something in the far corner.

Two men in a booth, half-hidden in the dim lighting. They sit relaxed, a quiet presence amidst the chaos, yet people keep coming up to them- leaning in, hands subtly exchanging cash, small bags slipping from one palm to another. She doesn’t need to look too closely to know what’s going down. She presses her palm to the pole, as her feet hit the platform again, hips swaying slowly, her focus slipping back to the crowd in front of her, but something gnaws at her, pulling her attention back. Then, the lights shift, a quick flash of neon, just bright enough to cut through the shadows, and she sees him.

Rafe Cameron.

And he’s looking right at her.

Leaning back in the booth, one arm draped lazily over the seat, a glass of whiskey in his other hand. Her breath catches in her throat, her grip faltering just slightly as she steadies herself. But it’s too late. Her moment is stiffer now, the tension stretched between them, across the crowded room, and he’s locked in the way he watches her. Unblinking. She can’t tell what he’s thinking but she knows one thing for certain- 

He knows exactly who she is.

Y/N forces herself to keep moving, to stay in rhythm with the music despite the ice-cold feeling creeping up her spine. But it’s impossible to ignore the weight of Rafe’s stare. It lingers burning through the dim haze of the club. She glides down the pole, making sure to keep her expression smooth- indifferent. Her heart is hammering against her ribs, but no one in the audience would know it. They see only the show, the slow hypnotising sway of her hips as she lands back on the stage, the way her fingers tease at the hem of her lace bra before she moves toward the edge of the stage dropping to her knees. The song is winding down. One last arch of her back, one last deliberate sweep of her hands up her thighs before letting the final beat pulse through her body.

Applause, whistles, the sound of crisp bills hitting the stage.

She scoops up what she can as she stands, but her mind is barely there. Not when she can still feel the weight of him watching. As she steps offstage, she risks a glance toward the booth again.This time Barry is grinning, chatting with some guy in a backwards cap who’s slipping a wad of cash into his pocket. And Rafe- he’s still looking at her, Y/N’s breath catches as their eyes meet again and this time, he smirks. It’s small, almost lazy, but there’s something in it that makes her stomach flip.

Shit.

She rips her gaze away, hurrying toward the bar, barely registering the sound of heels clicking against the floor or the music thumping through the speakers. She drops her earnings into her basket at the end of the bar- before grabbing a glass of water. Her hands are steady as she lifts it, but her heart is pounding wildly. The bartender gives her a once-over as she wipes down the counter. 

“Damn, Bunny- y'look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“You have no idea.”

Y/N exhales, pressing the cold glass to her lips. Her eyes drift back to Rafe before she can stop herself. He’s talking to someone else now, some guy in a backward cap, shaking his hand as something small and discreet trades between them-

Fucking hell.

She jumps at the sudden touch on her arm, nearly spilling her drink. Whipping around, she exhales sharply when she sees who it is.

“Jesus, Tommy.”

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing- It’s nothing.”

She responds as she shakes her head slightly, Tommy doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it slide.

“Someone put in a request for you.”

“Who?”

Y/N wipes her palm against her thigh, trying to shake the uneasy feeling creeping up her spine. Tommy leans in slightly, his voice calling out over the music as his head nods in the direction she was just looking. 

“Rafe Cameron.”

Y/N freezes and Tommy notices her stiff shoulders instantly. 

“Something I should know about?”

“Um… I think he and his friend are selling coke-”

“—I know” 

Tommy says easily as he picks up one of the clean empty glasses on the bar, putting it away. Y/N frowns at his words. Since the first day she’d started working here, he had stated to her he had ‘zero-tolerance’ for any of the girls doing coke… so how come now, Rafe Cameron was allowed to walk in here and make this his personal dealing spot. 

“But I thought you—”

“I made a deal with them,” he shrugs, “keeps people coming in, keeps them buying drinks. Business is business Y/N.”

“Right.”

Y/N purses her lips as he speaks and Tommy studies her for a moment, then gestures towards where Rafe was sitting, once again passing over something she couldn't quite make out to a man in a white shirt. 

“I can send someone else, but you’ll lose out on the cash for the night.” 

His voice has that slight edge to it, the one that tells her he won’t be making a habit of exceptions. She hesitates. She could probably say no. She should say no. But then she thinks about the pile of bills waiting for her at home, the ones she still doesn’t know how she’s going to all pay.

“I—” She clears her throat. 

“It’s fine.”

“Good. He’s waiting.”

Y/N exhales, setting her glass down with a quiet clink and then she turns, smoothing out her hair, checking her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. Rafe still leaned back in one of the lounge chairs, legs spread, arm slung over the back of the seat. Barry is beside him, but he isn’t paying attention to whatever he’s saying. His eyes are already on her.

Watching. 

Waiting.

She swallows hard, ignoring the way her pulse kicks up as she straightens her shoulders and starts moving toward him. Her heels click against the floor, her movements slow and she can feel the weight of his gaze. When she finally stops in front of him, Rafe tips his head slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Hey there, Bunny.”

Y/N clenches her jaw at the sound of his voice- low and smooth, edged with amusement. She doesn’t let it show, though. Instead, she gives him the same sultry smile she’s perfected for every other man who’s sat in front of her.

“Cameron” 

She says, tilting her head slightly, letting her fingers trail lightly over her bare thigh. Rafe grins like this is all some kind of joke. Like she isn’t standing in front of him in six-inch heels and a barely-there outfit, about to dance for him like she doesn’t know exactly who he is.

"Didn’t think I’d ever see you here"

His voice is smug like he’s savouring every second of this. Y/N bites back a retort. She wants to tell him to fuck off. Wants to ask him what the fuck he’s doing here, why he put in a request for her.

But she doesn’t. 

Because she can’t.

Her fingers twitch by her side as she takes a step closer instead, smoothly moving into his space. Rafe doesn’t move back. If anything, his smirk deepens as he spreads his legs a little wider and Barry chuckles beside him, knocking back the rest of his drink before running his hand over his head. He mutters, already moving to stand.

“ 'ight I’ll leave you to it,” 

But before he can leave, Rafe shakes his head, a smirk pulling at his lips,

"No, no—stay man."

Y/N’s stomach twists. She doesn’t want an audience, especially not Barry, she doesn't even want to be doing this in the first place. The club is still packed, neon lights flickering across the space. There are men scattered around, girls in their laps, some whispering things in their ears that’ll have them reaching for their wallets without hesitation. Y/N has done this a hundred times now. She knows the drill.

But this- this is different.

She inhales slowly as she notices Barry sitting back in his seat, eyes racking over her body and she has to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. She hesitant, her inner conflict gnawing at her mind but eventually she lets out a small breath a moves forward, swinging a leg over Rafe’s lap, lowering herself onto his thighs, moving her hips in a way that’s meant to tease. She lets her hands trail up his chest in a way that’s meant to be practiced and seductive. But then- his hand comes to rest on her hip.

Her whole body tenses.

Rafe notices. Of course he does. His thumb presses against the curve of her hip, just enough to make her teeth clench. Y/N forces a tight-lipped smile, shifting on his lap just enough to make it look like part of the dance- but really, it’s an attempt to put space between them. Her voice stays low, sharp beneath the sultry act.

"There’s a no-touching policy."

Rafe’s smirk doesn’t falter. If anything, it deepens. His fingers stay right where they are, his grip on her hip solid, unmoving. He tilts his head slightly, blue eyes gleaming with something threatening.

"None of the policies here apply to me, Maybank."

He speaks out as his finger slips under the strap of her black thong, tugging on it and letting it snap back into position, the feeling causing a sharp sting on her skin. The way he says her last name- it’s teasing, taunting. Like he enjoys the way it sounds in his mouth and Y/N can’t help but clench her jaw at the thought, heat creeping up her neck.bShe doesn’t let her movements falter though, even as his words sink into her skin like a slow-burning ember. Her ass grinds down onto his lap intone with the song blaring out through teh clubs speakers, her fingers trailing over his shoulders, a practiced motion, a distraction- for herself more than for him.

“That so?”

She murmurs, voice light, teasing, playing into the role she’s supposed to be in. Rafe lets out a quiet hum, his thumb stroking over the thin fabric of her outfit.

“Mhm. I don’t think Tommy would wanna lose his best customers, do you?”

She bites down on the inside of her cheek at his words but th rhythmic roll of her hips never stops. She knows he' s pushing her.

It’s in his nature.

Barry lets out a low whistle from his seat which is followed by a chuckle. Her eye's drift over to him sitting his legs spread wide as he takes lazy sips from his drink.

“Damn didn’t peg you for this line of work Maybank. Not that I’m complainin’.”

Her spine stiffens, at she meets his eye's- yet she refuses to give them the satisfaction of leaving before the song is finished. Her focus shifts to Rafe, on the smug expression he wears as he watches her, like he’s got all the time in the world.

Like he’s enjoying this far too much.

Y/N exhales sharply through her nose. He’s trying to get under her skin. And it’s working. Rafe grins, his grip on her hips unwavering he taunts, his other hand sliding down to her thigh, drifting awfully close to her inner thigh as he tilts his head slightly.

“What’s the matter huh? You dance for all these guys, but you’re nervous around me?”

The song drags on, seconds feeling like minutes. Her body moves on instinct, performing for him, back arching as she struggles not to unravel under his gaze. And then, just as she starts to think she can get through this without losing it- he leans in. His breath fans against her ear as he speaks, voice just low enough for only her to hear.

“Wonder what your brother would think if he saw you like this.”

His voice is casual, but there’s something sharp behind it, something that makes her stomach twist. Her jaw tightens.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Just seems like something he’d wanna know,”

Rafe doesn’t even acknowledge her as she speaks, his full attention locked onto the way her hips are still grinding against him. He muses, tilting his head.

“Bet he thinks you’re a little cleaner or somethin' huh?”

Her pulse thrums in her ears, but she doesn’t let it show. Rafe’s smirk deepens, catching the movement. His fingers drum now against her knee.

“Relax, Y/N. I’m just making conversation.”

“Yeah? Funny, doesn’t feel like that.”

She scoffs under her breath. He hums, tilting his head as he takes her in, eyes darting down from her face. Her stomach knots, but she refuses to cower under his gaze. Instead, she leans in just enough that only he can hear her. “You know,” she murmurs, voice dripping with saccharine sweetness,

“most guys just pay and keep their mouths shut.”

Rafe tutted, a slow, mocking sound, then, before she can react, Rafe casually plucks a few crisp fifty-dollar bills from the stack in front of him. His fingers ghost along the curve of her waist before he shoves them right between her pushed up tits, tucking the money into her bra. Heat rushes to her face- not from embarrassment, but from the pure, seething hatred bubbling up inside her. Her jaw tightens, and she shoots him a glare so sharp it could cut glass. Barry, watching the whole thing unfold, bursts into laughter, slapping his knee like it’s the funniest thing he’s seen all night.

“Country Club” he wheezes, “she gon' kill you man”

“Nah,” he drawls, eyes flicking up to hers.

“She likes it.”

Rafe just smirks, leaning back lazily in his seat and she scoffs, the sound sharp and dripping with disgust, before snatching the money from between her tits and throwing it straight at him. The crisp bills flutter uselessly against his chest before falling into his lap, but she doesn’t care.

She doesn’t want his money- doesn’t want anything from him.

She shifts to push off his lap, to put distance between them, but Rafe moves faster. His hand snaps around her wrist in an iron grip, yanking her back down before she can escape. A sharp gasp slips from her lips as she stumbles into him, her free hand landing against his chest to steady herself.

He’s close now.

Too close.

Rafe’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by something more irritated as he stares up at her. His fingers tighten around her wrist, his grip just bordering on painful, a silent warning.

“I’d be real careful, Bunny”

Rafe murmurs, his voice low and laced with something that makes her stomach uneasy. Her breath catches, but she refuses to look away, her glare burning into him. He tilts his head slightly, his smirk creeping back as he studies her reaction.

“You wouldn’t want your brother to hear about this little conversation, would you?”

The words hang heavy between them, and she swallows hard, her pulse hammering. Y/N sits there, her body tense, her expression carved from pure, unfiltered hatred. Every fiber of her being screams at her to move, to slap that smug look off his face, but she doesn’t. Because if Rafe tells JJ… she doesn’t know what she’d do.

He watches her, sharp and calculating, before plucking the discarded money from his lap. He folds the crisp bills between his fingers in half, before bringing them up to her face. His eyes stay locked on hers, and his lips curl into that insufferable smirk.

“Open up”

He murmurs, voice taunting but firm. Her jaw clenches and she doesn’t move. Amusement flickers in his gaze, but there’s something else there too- something that tells her that she'd not got much choice now. He lifts a brow, daring her to defy him and she hates herself for it, but after a long, thick moment of silence, she slowly parts her lips. Rafe hums in satisfaction, slipping the folded-up bills between her teeth.

“Atta girl”

He muses as she bites down, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary before he pulls away. He leans back lazily in his seat, studying her with open amusement, eyes flicking between the money in her mouth and the fire still burning in her gaze. She can tell he’s so fucking satisfied. The song finally comes to an end, the heavy bass fading into the low murmur of conversation and clinking glasses. The second the last note plays and a new one begins, she jerks her wrist free from his grasp, ripping her hand away like his touch burns her.

Her mind is racing- anger, humiliation, and something else she doesn’t want to name all tangling together in a storm inside her chest. She stands abruptly, plucking the money from between her lips with two fingers like it’s tainted. Without even sparing him a glance, she turns on her heel, ready to put as much distance between herself and Rafe Cameron as possible.

But then- she feels it.

The sharp smack lands right on her ass, firm and unapologetic. A small gasp passes her lips and the audacity of it sends white-hot anger surging through her veins, and she whips around so fast her hair nearly follows the motion. Barry is already laughing, a deep, wheezing sound, blowing out a thick puff of smoke as he watches the scene unfold like it’s the best entertainment of the night.

And Rafe?

Rafe just grins up at her, infuriatingly relaxed, his expression unreadable save for the smug amusement dancing in his eyes. Then, as if he hadn't already done enough, he puckers his lips, blowing her a lazy, taunting little kiss to her. She stares at him, disgust and fury twisting in her chest, her fists clenching at her sides- heart thumping heavily in her chest as she becomes certain of one thing.

She’s never hated anyone more in her life.

taglist: @xoxosblogsblog @moonywhisp3rs @i-love-gvf @my-name-is-baby @ltristessedureratoujours @stoned-writer @mariamadison6-blog @rafecameronswhoore @lovelytoomusic @rafesgurl @mysticbby2009 @vanessa-rafesgirl @silkenthusiasts @partygirl14 @amterasuu @xoxo-ada @icaqttt @willowpains @ivysprophecy @mauvesmax @larema121 @ggraycelynn

[nemesyaaa]

sweet creature // truck driver!rafe x housewife!reader

summary : just a few mixed headcanons.

warnings : +18 content. minors dni. strong age gap. sweetheart x old man trope. smut. p in v. teasing. smoking. size difference. full nelson position bc big men lovers club here. hand fetish(sorry.). sleazy!rafe. squirting. loss of virginity. please, be aware of the warnings before reading.

author's note : muchas gracias a mi dulce @rafesangelita for giving me the idea bc i really loved to work on the concept of truck driver!rafe. shout out to crush by ethel cain too for give me the inspo of the story. <333

can't stop thinking about truck driver!rafe who's a proud working man. he's soooo bulky from charging alone some weighty goods on his eight wheelers everyday to deliveries driving for weeks and days. he's massive without forcing just because he's doing so hard with his hands on daily.

speaking of this, he's got such big sized hands. apparent thick veins on the back and calloused on the palms. large fingers with too much strength. easier for him to manhandle you or lift you up. they're very manly and rough. fat and round biceps with a strong size. he's tall and big, literally showing you without speaking who’s the man of the house, and who you belong to. you feel so secure every time he's around because you can be sure no one is touching you, no one is looking down at you, no one just dare to even glance at you. he doesn’t like to fight because he doesn't want you to think he's gonna hurt you one day, but if it's for you, he can do anything.

even if you don't like it, he's always smoking a bunch of cigarettes while he's driving and listening to some kind of old music. john denver or johnny cash are his favs.

he's always buying some new marlboro reds at the gas station with some gum when he's taking a break. if he's not smoking, he's chewing some gums until there is no flavor. he's just needs to get something in his mouth. just a bad habit.

he’s a loyal man that doesn't care about women hitting on him at the gas station. but sometimes, he's nostalgic because years ago , you were one of them. you were that pretty rebelious girl who's acting like she has no dad, no family and proudly flirting with him, doesn't give a fuck about getting away with a stranger. at first, you called him old man to joke. at contrary, he directly called you sweetheart, thinking that you're such a sweet thing.

both of you ended up in the motel. “ im curious of what you’ve got in your pants, old man. ” “ you're too young for that shit. ” “ huh, huh…don't you think it's more like you're too old for that shit, sir ? ” the smirk on his face at the moment was really something else. that fucking attitude of yours making him bite his lips.

the minute after, you were pinned down on the mattress, his whole body size over yours. “ repeat it. ” “ i said, you're too old to fuck, sir. ” “ isn’t a fucking virgin thing who doesn't even know anything about the word she's saying who's talking right now ? ” “ I'm not a virgin. ” you lied, rolling your eyes at the sight. “ i swear, I'm not ! ” he laughed softly. “ why are you lying, so eager to be a little slut ? that's why you ran away with strangers like me ?” it was the first time a man like that, and you were speechless. not in a bad way. it was just surprising. “ i think you're forgetting your manners. ” he said carefully, his blue gaze burning over yours.

“ if you want it, i will fuck you. but i need you to say it. clear and ‘oud. ” you turned your head away because there's no way you're gonna say such a thing to him. “ i will find someone else then. that receptionist girl was pre…” “ fuck me. ” you quickly said before repeating it slower and clearly. “ i want you to fuck me…” “ alright. spread those fucking legs for me, sweetheart…huh, look at you, being so wet for me…you really need me.” “ ugh, just touch me ! stop talking, old man. ” you gasped. “ remember that you asked for it. ”

“ yea, yea. ” he started to unbuckle his belt before taking off his pants. your mouth was gagging at his fat cock hanging between his heavy thighs. “ it’s not gonna suck itself. ” you gasped loudly, swallowing hard. “ i j-just don't know how to do it…show me please. ” “ fine. after all, it's my job as your eldest. ”

and that's how you consumed your first night with rafe.

truck driver!rafe who’s got such a pretty polaroid of you that stays and never leaves his truck. there is your lipstick stains on it and a sweet “ good luck ” written on the white space.

as a good housewife, you always prepare him some delicious meals to keep him fed even if he's away. you're always checking on your man' and loves when he's gaining more weight.

he's starting to get old, hitting his forties soon. he doesn't really care about his physic anymore but you still find him so attractive. when you met him, he was already a grown man so it didn't really change anything. he loves to wear a cap on his messy mullet, thinking that it makes him look cool. biggest tees with long sleeves lover. the fabric is not good enough to hide his muscular frame because his big size is so obvious. and he's wearing those blue jeans that fit his muddy boots.

he's not very hairy, but he's not the type to shave often like he used to when he was younger. he's fine with the apparent thick hair of his happy trail and mustache that makes him look like an 80's pornstar. when he's come home, shirtless and sweating, he's just serving you the best look to fuck.

you're obsessed with his scent after a long shift work. you don't care how strong he smells, you just want to hug him and never leave. while he's holding you tight, he's getting you locked on his hug, your face buried against his heavy and glistening chest. and you can't help but kiss his wet sweating tee.

even if he's tired, just knows this man gonna fuck you very hard, especially when you're so clingy to him. you can forget vanilla with truck driver!rafe, there's no way he's gonna be sweet on your fucking pussy, especially after you've been teasing him with dirty pictures of yourself while he was away and driving. also, he does need some stress relief so prepare to be dumb for at least one fucking day raw.

he's excited the moment he sees you. there is no more teasing. he's now in charge of everything and you better take everything he's gonna give you. this is not like he gives you other choices. at this moment, his favorite position to fuck you will be full nelson because you're trapped on his tight muscular hold, forced to bounce on the thickness of his dick. he's dicking you down so hard that you could hear the famous flap flap flap of his heavy balls slapping your skin.

“ don't fucking move. ” he treaths you with the raspy sound of his voice, while your body is bouncing at every of his thrusts. you're shaking loudly on his rocked abs, lips filled with drool and tears running down your heated cheeks. ” you're so fucking tight..! gonna give your pussy a big stretch…fuck ! ”

every back and forth is powerful enough to make your pussy throbs. the way his fleshy cock is moving and bruising your hole — going further and further to the point your stomach is filled with every inch of his shaft, the veiny lines of his dick pulsating inside your cunt and growing harder on your belly. all your whines and cries are nothing for the truck driver, nothing more than a sign to fuck you even faster and stronger. he still holding your twitching body against his toned chest, feeling every squirms of yours on his sweaty skin, and his hands grips at your back legs, while giving you the craziest thrusts. his hands feel so warm and huge on your lower tummy, fingers bruising at your belly while his length is striking to your spot each time. “ you're d-deep…fuck, rafe !! ah…it feels so good…” you cry out of emotions, tears bursting on your face again. “ yea, right ? fucking deep’. you really feel it inside you baby. ”

he's stretching your cunt so well that you can't stop screaming and quivering, feeling his sweat sticking to your body. his breathing is hard and heavy on the side of your cheeks, his jaw slacks but he keeps his mouth wide open loudly panting and getting deeper and stronger, lips tugging at your ears.

he's such a bully. i mean, his dick is. hitting and hitting your g-spot with any fucking breaks, always striking at it like a weapon. getting no mercy and pity on the way he's making you cry. he loves to see your face turning dumb, eyes wide shut, mouth leaking too much saliva, stupid babbles coming from your trembling lips. he's just pushing himself so deep inside your swollen core, breathy moans filling his lips as his cock hardly twitch between your walls, making your throbs even more. you can't even breathe without choking on yourself.

it's like he knows how to take all your energy with his thrusts. his cock won't leave your pussy alone, the veins still hard and bulged with pumping blood, and balls full even after your first orgasm. but not only he wanted you to come but to squirt too.

“ r-rafe, i feel it coming…nghh! ah stop. i c-ca…” “ just let it go, baby. can you do that for me ? ” and it happens just two seconds after, your stretched pussy opening bigger to splash a strong liquid over your folds and making a pool everywhere on yourself. you can't even process the situation that his dick is back into your walls again, merciless pounding your wetted hole. with the same fucked pace. you're such a shivering mess you can't feel anything except the length that's driving hard in your soaked insides. now that you're squirted, it's such a big wet place on your cunt. and he leads him to make you squirt another time. the sound of your pussy pumping his dick is so squishy and loud.

when he comes inside you, you can be sure it's gonna leak a lot from your slick. he's gonna fuck until his balls are empty, and your pussy gonna coats with so much of his sperm.

to be sure of his cock being dry, he's softly slapping at your lips with the tip, and making you clean it. he loves how sloppy you're sucking when you're tired, but he's a hard sucker for the look you give him when his dick weakly falls out of your mouth, and a stream of his sperm sticks at your lower lips.

and you're just off, laying your body back to the sheets.

you can't believe this man was soon forties. you simply can't believe it.

[midniqhtt]

sebastian sallow

masterlist • hogwarts legacy • 11/22/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 never forget I @zevrra

where sebastian is actually worried about MC and regrets casting crucio on them

𑣲 caught in the rain I @/zevrra

you and sebastian seek shelter inside an abandoned home where every feeling is laid to bare.

𑣲 truth or dare I @ppomumgranatum

Truths emerged and friendships were tested as you found yourself confronting two years' worth of suppressed feelings towards Sebastian. Drunk.

𑣲 the dance of love’s sweet potion I @/ppomumgranatum

When a potion meant to repel backfired, it became a mishap that turned your world upside down.

𑣲 marry me I @theealbatross

The 3 times Sebastian thought about marrying you and the 1 time he asked.

𑣲 fight the alchemy I @/theealbatross

Garreth asks why Sebastian isn’t dating you. Sebastian spirals.

𑣲 i love you, it’s ruining my life I @/theealbatross

Sebastian has the worst insomnia known to man and you are not dating him.

𑣲 never not been mine I @/theealbatross

Everyone wonders if you and Sebastian are together. Sebastian wonders when will everyone mind their own business.

𑣲 fever (what a lovely way to burn) I @shadowtriovibes

"since you saved Sebastian from Azkaban, he has met you in the common room every morning and you have gone to breakfast together. One morning he isn't there so you go to his room looking for him to find him in bed, poorly.”

𑣲 request I @/shadowtriovibes

Eric Northcott is relentlessly pursuing you, so Sebastian offers to act as your heroic boyfriend to get him off your back

𑣲 break a sweat part 2 part 3 part 4 I @/shadowtriovibes

sebastian makes the house quidditch team after training all summer. before his first match, you let him talk you into a bet over its outcome that will in all likelihood ruin your friendship. (merlin, you sure hope it does.)

𑣲 mind if i move in closer? I @/shadowtriovibes

𑣲 it’s a sign of the times part 2 I @/shadowtriovibes

Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian

𑣲 fissured composure I @anto-pops

After watching you hold your own against a handsy classmate, Sebastian is feeling particularly needy and steals you away to the Undercroft to show you just how worked up your right hook got him.

𑣲 possessive touch I @/anto-pops

Sebastian has never been the sharing sort. He was happy to loan people notes or quills, maybe even the occasional book from the Restricted Section. But not you. Never you.

𑣲 sudsy confessions I @/anto-pops

Sebastian confessing his long-harbored love for you while you’re naked in a bathtub.

𑣲 request I @/anto-pops

𑣲 unspoken attraction I @arthenaa

The girls and you have a talk on who they'll date amongst the students in Hogwarts. No one mentions Sebastian despite being deemed the most handsome in your year. You wonder why?

𑣲 jealously, jealousy I @awkwardauthorwrites

𑣲 i think he knows I @/awkwardauthorwrites

Sebastian helps Y/N with an interesting request

𑣲 violets and verbena I @/awkwardauthorwrites

Two years have passed since the events in Hogwarts Legacy, in which Y/N has drifted away from Sebastian. What happens when she has to spend some time in the hospital wing and he comes to visit?

𑣲 in the middle part 2 I @/awkwardauthorwrites

After a few months of knowing the reader the boys suddenly realise one day they are falling in love with the reader and start to become a bit bitter towards each other and very jealous if another guy gives her attention.

𑣲 wildest dreams part 2 part 3 I @/awkwardauthorwrites

Ten years have passed since the events of Hogwarts Legacy and Y/N is invited back as part of a reunion to celebrate.

𑣲 diesel is desire I @wttcsms

sebastian sallow is a good friend. so good, in fact, that when you find yourself under the ungodly influence of a lust potion, he's willing to help give you some relief.

𑣲 trust fall I @fairytalesandlegacies

Sebastian Sallow teaches you how to fight against the Imperius Curse late one night, and in the process, some long-kept secrets are revealed.

𑣲 i need you I @ravenelyx

Sebastian has different ways of dealing with being hurt. One of them is burying his face in your chest while you cuddle him

𑣲 who do you smell? I @roarieluz

Sebastian Sallow has had a crush on Y/N for a while now, this isn't news to him but when a strong batch of amortentia is made for potions class it is hard to keep his mind clear of anything that isn't about you and what he wants to do to you.

𑣲 the night shift part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 I @writing-intheundercroft

You're the lead healer in the St. Mungo's intensive care unit, and a painfully familiar face ends up in your ward.

𑣲 a long time coming I @undergaunts

aka three times Sebastian is a flirt, one time he gets called out on it, and one time he finally does something about it.

𑣲 pining in potions class I @festivalsofmargot

Sebastian Sallow is forming a huge crush on you, and it’s hitting him all at once in a very annoying way. Something as simple as not being partnered with you in potions class eats away at him.

𑣲 pretty thoughts part 2 I @/festivalsofmargot

Sebastian is down bad for you, my dear reader. But a lot of overthinking on your part makes you blind to it. So, his only option is to keep chasing after you.

𑣲 a worrisome box of chocolates I @matchavellichor

𑣲 you look better in green part 2 I @fierymiasma

In which Sebastian sees the new transfer student wearing someone else’s scarf and proceeds to absolutely lose it.

𑣲 snow, scarves, and schemes I @spaceyaceface

Y/N is sick of Leander Prewett trying to court her. Luckily, she has a best friend named Sebastian Sallow who would love to help put an end to it. They devise a plan to pretend to court up until the Yule Ball. Should be simple, right? If only. 

𑣲 the one who stayed I @talesofesther

For a moment, Sebastian thought he lost you, and now the guilt for what happened is eating away at him.

𑣲 the winner takes all I @justauthoring

in which, leander prewett is a prick and sebastian shows him not mess with his girl.

𑣲 bludgered I @slytherizz

Sebastian never really knew what his friend saw in Isaac Cooper but he never questioned it - he made his friend happy. That is until a Quidditch match goes quickly awry and he realises his feelings for her may go far deeper than simple friendship.

𑣲 between the two of you I @cuffmeinblack

Rewriting of the events of the Shadow of the Study/Discovery quests.

𑣲 i crumble completely (when you cry) I @atlabeth

there's only one way to get into salazar slytherin's scriptorium.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I found and read this cute story on AO3, about Frostbite being Danny's legal parental guardian. In the story Bruce Wayne runs into Frostbite (in his full yeti glory no disguise) who is setting up for school bake sale. Got me thinking about what if Danny's past rogues took turns filling in and doing parental stuff especially at school functions. Like Frostbite does the bake sale, Pandora shows up for his games, Ghostwriter goes to all of the PTA meetings, Clockwork goes to teacher meetings, so on and so forth.

The 43rd Annual Gotham Academy Bake Sale by Faeriekit

Ohhh, that sounds good! I'll get it a read when I have some time. Thank you for the rec!

Danny Fenton is one of the lucky few who have a very involved household. His various family members would always sign up for any school event the boy needed support in. It didn't mean that the boy won everything, but as a teacher for nine years, Emily has come to learn how much it mattered to just have someone show up.

She had seen students whose entire faces light up after spotting someone in the crowd in the same amount she saw a student's hope crumble after they scanned the room.

Danny was a polite young man, a bit on the shyer side, but kind and not a troublemaker, his previous school had her believe. If anything, he seemed to struggle with fitting in, but no students blatantly disliked him.

The general opinion of Danny matched, as her students would say, "I know him from class, but I don't really talk to him. He seems cool though".

Maybe that's why so many people were supposed by his family to march into the auditorium during Danny's talent show. Seeing him wave at the row before starting his gymnastic act had been such a surprise.

Now, Gotham wasn't a close-knit community, not with the size of their city and the millions of people living within it, but everyone would have noticed that Danny was adopted.

After all, he was the only one that wasn't glowing or a large humanoid animal. They cheered the loudest among the crowd; uncaring Danny got bronze- having lost to Joey's tapping dancing for second and Damian's spectacular multi-instrumental cover of a meme song for first place- and Danny beamed back at them.

Gotham was known for not being meta-friendly, but that was only due to a few mean people who shouted the loudest on media outlets. Many of Emily's students were meta, had family that were meta, or knew someone meta. It wasn't a common enough trait one would encounter a meta on every outing, but you would see them in Gotham well enough.

Everyone knew, but no one said it out loud. In the same way, she knew which students' parents were in the country illegally but worked harder than anyone else. Saying anything would help the cops, or worse, the rich running Gotham.

Even the most prejudiced Gothamite would rather be spat on then give them aid. And those who were so prejudiced to help the poor man's enemies, well, Emily has lived here long enough to know they vanished rather quickly. The smart ones kept their mouths shut.

No one could forget what happened to that guy who accidentally insulted Penguin. His grandmother had been an illegal immigrant on his mother's side.

No one messed with that side of the family.

"Hello, Mrs. Jackson." Danny's adoptive father, Dr. Frostbite said, ducking down to avoid banging his head on the door. On one of his shoulders was a box of hotdog wieners; on the other were multiple bags of bread. "I'm here for my snack bar shift."

Emily tilts her head back to look the Yeti in the eye. He had been shocked the first time they met, but she could admit that Dr. Frostbite was a relatively gentle and wise soul. "Welcome aboard. The girls are just about to take the field. You can put that down by the crock pot over there."

The mountain of white fur brushes by her with the grace of a king as Dr. Frostbite does as she says. There were no customers at the window, so she leaned on the counter and offered him a smile. "Did you enjoy the game?"

"Yes. I was saddened our team did not win, but Danny hit a home run." Dr. Frostbite's sharp smile could have been frightening if he wasn't oozing parental pride. "I caught it all on video."

Emily opens her mouth to respond when a hand lands loudly on the counter with a loud crack. Her heart leaps, and she looks into Danny's Ember. She isn't one of Emily's students, though she does appear to be a teenager in appearance.

You know. If it wasn't for her hair made of fire. Or her blue skin. Or her glow.

"I set a boy on fire," She announces with a cackle.

"That's so?" Dr. Frostbite gently rips open the box, taking out the hotdog packages. With one large claw, he rips a hole into it and lets the few weiners slide into the crockpot with a gentle splash. "What did he do?"

"Tried to slap me on the butt." She huffs, rolling her eyes, but her smirk doesn't lose an edge of smugness.

"Well done." Dr. Frostbite praises placing the lid back on. It always surprised Emily to see such careful actions from the large creature. "I assume you did so out of Pandora's line of sight?"

"Naturally. I don't want her lecturing me in front of the whole community." Ember scoffs, crossing her arms. Behind her, the top of Pandora's head can be seen swinging side to side over the dugout, keeping an eye on the ball.

She was the best volunteer referee because even the parents knew not to shout insulting things when she was present. Emily doesn't think she has had such peaceful games in a long while. Hopefully, Danny will try out again for baseball next year so the woman can return.

"Oh hey, you're Danny's English teacher, right? Mrs. Johnson?" Ember asks, leaning on the counter to give Emily a curious look.

When the blond nods, holding out her hand for a shake. "That's right. It's nice to see you again, Ember."

The girl's hair flairs a little as a grin grows on her face. Her hand is ice cold to the touch, but she's got a firm grip that her husband would appreciate. "Likewise. I got a message for you from Ghostwriter. He sent the notes for the last PTA meeting to you and the revision playwright for the musical you two were working on."

Emily's mood brightens up. "That's wonderful. Could you tell him I'll check it out when I get home and get to my laptop since my phone broke in the last Two-Face attack?"

Ember's hair flickers in the wind when she nods, but Danny bounces right up behind her just as she opens her mouth to speak. He's wearing his Gotham Acadamy Baseball uniform with pride despite them losing. "Hey, Frostbite, can I go with Tim and Duke to get Peoeria Pizza? We'll be back before the girl's game ends."

"Only if you take Ember with you," Dr.Frostbite says, nodding to his daughter, who looks alarmed to be included. "She needs more friends."

"Hey!"

"Sure. Come on, Ember, you'll get along with Duke. He likes old-school rock."

"It's not old-school!"

Emily laughs, watching the two siblings bicker as they stride away, blending into the crowd with no one batting an eye at the glowing girl anymore. How blessed that boy was.

"I'm glad Danny has gotten comfortable here. I always worried he never was going to have a normal childhood." Dr. Frostbite confesses to swirling the hotdogs around in the water to ensure each one is cooked.

"I think you and the rest are doing a wonderful job. You're a great father." She assures him, thinking wistfully of her William. He's been on deployment for a few months now and will likely miss the holidays again, but his contract is almost up. They may try for a child when he gets in the reserves. "How are things at the clinic?"

"Oh, wonderful. I'm grateful that Mr. Wayne has allowed the expansion of Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic. Dr. Thompkins will be covering the east side of Gotham while I help those on the west. It's much more fulfilling than working in some hospital that demands funds for the silliest things. Back home, that would have been illegal. The people would have burned me at the stake if I had allowed anyone to pass away due to greed."

"My kind of people." She laughs. A sharp crack sounds from the field as the bat makes contact with the ball, and the crowd goes wild. It's a wonderful day.

[bowtiepasta]

PUMP IT UP WITH BLUE LOCK! pov: you take the boys to pilates, and let’s just say.. they’re not as tough as they look.

FEAT. oliver, sae, reo, shidou, isagi, bachira, rin

INDULGING: SFW. gif from the substance but the fic itself has nothing to do with it. est. relationships, a crackfic at times, obviously physical touch, some petnames here and there, language.

ROMY’S NOTE: I know they’re suuuper sore after and I know someone who can kiss them better (me. I’m talking about me.) these are all pretty cute but my favorites are shidou + isagi’s <3 enjoy

OLIVER AIKU ﾉ TALKS A BIG GAME BUT…

his legs shake in a downward dog, thighs tensing, arms burned from the reformer machine. the instructor corrects his form for the third time today. she reminds him, “engage your core.” — voice a stark contrast to the absolute war happening in his abs right now.

“my core is engaged,” he grits out, barely holding a plank while beads of sweat roll down his temple.

you shoot him a look from your own mat, perfectly stable in your pose. “no, it’s not.”

aiku huffs, trying to shift his weight off his trembling arms. “stop being a show-off.”

the single leg bridge was the final straw. the second he lifts one foot, his other leg betrays him, and he nearly collapses onto the machine.

you bite back a laugh. “tough guy, huh?”

aiku groans, staring up at the ceiling like it held all the answers. “next time we do this, you’re training with me on the field. see how you do on my turf, sweetheart.”

ITOSHI SAE ﾉ A BIG BABY ABOUT IT AFTER

sae was laying flat on the couch when you found him, arm draped over his eyes, the other resting limp on his stomach. he looked like he had just fought in a war. you stood in the doorway, shaking your head, watching the aftermath of one pilates class take its toll on your world-class athlete boyfriend.

you nudge his leg with your knee. “dramatic much?”

“I’m in pain.” his voice muffles against the leather as his back muscles flex beneath the jersey he chose.

you roll your eyes, walking over and settling beside him. “you’re acting like I dragged you through an obstacle course.”

sae turns his head enough to shoot you a deadpan look. “would’ve preferred that.”

you smile, reaching out to push his hair away from his face. he lets you, barely reacting except for the way his eyes flutter closed and his shoulders relax.

“you’ll survive,” you murmur, fingers trailing down to his traps, kneading lightly at the knots there.

he sighs, tension melting under your hands. you felt it before you heard it — the way his breath evened out, the weight of him sinking into the cushioning.

“not fair,” he grumbles into a throw pillow. there’s a drool stain on the corner of it where the tassels are.

you hum. “what’s not?”

“this.” he cracks an eye open, squinting at you. “putting me through hell and then acting all soft like it’ll make me forget.”

you smirk, fingers pressing a deeper into his back, earning you another quiet exhale. “will you?”

sae’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t answer. yeah.. you knew he’d be at the next class.

MIKAGE REO ﾉ ONLY FOR YOU

reo sat beside you on the edge of the studio floor, forearms resting on his knees, chest rising and falling in surprisingly steady breaths. the rest of the class were packing up, rolling up their mats and stuffing gossip down into their aritzia gym bags. he himself hadn't moved — just sat there, hands loose between his legs, like he needed a second to process.

his shirt clings to his skin, the soft fabric damp where it stretches across his chest and back. strands of violet hair sticks to his temples, beads of sweat trail down his adam’s apple before disappearing under his collar. you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to swipe across his chin, revealing a glimpse of toned abs, flushed slightly from exertion.

you lean onto his shoulder, still people watching. “penny for your thoughts?”

he let out a breath, half a laugh. “I knew it’d be hard, but damn.” he tilts his head toward you, eyes bright despite the exhaustion weighing down his limbs. “can’t believe you do this for fun.”

you grin, “I like seeing you like this.”

he raises a brow. “on the brink of death?”

“all worked up,” you correct, running a hand down his arm, feeling the way his muscles still tense beneath his skin. “‘s cute.”

“always complaining,” you continue, nails tracing lazy patterns onto his wrist, “still let me drag you anyway.”

“because you whine if I don’t go.”

you gasp, smacking him. “I do not whine.”

reo side-eyes you, unimpressed. “and I quote, ‘If you love me, you’ll go to pilates with me.’”

you laugh, fingers ghosting down the back of his neck. “and? you went.”

he laughs with you. “you’re lucky I love you.”

SHIDOU RYUSEI ﾉ LIKE A WARM UP

shidou casually leans against the reception desk, one arm draped over the counter as he smirks at the instructor behind it. he was still glowing from the class, tank top clinging to his torso in a way that made it obvious how ridiculously well he’d handled everything.

unlike the rest of the guys, who had groaned and limped their way out, he looked thrilled — like he could go another round if you let him.

the receptionist, a young woman who had definitely been watching him more than necessary during class, beams. “I have to say, you were reaaally impressive for your first time.” (dragging out the syllables more than necessary. over the top customer service voice)

you scoff, knowing he was about to run with this.

shidou grins, running a hand through his damp hair. “yeah? thought I did alright.”

you groan, smacking his arm. “don’t feed into it. he already thinks he’s god’s gift to pilates.”

she ignores you, the bitch.

“you were so natural at the movements,” another instructor chimes in. “most people struggle with control at first, but you were so — what’s the word? fluid?” you throw up in your mouth a little.

he preens, grin razor-sharp, eyes flicking towards you just to rub it in. “d’you hear that, babe?”

he turns, slinging an arm around your shoulders and tugging you in, all smug and pleased with himself. “guess I’m just built different.”

you exhale through your nose, sarcasm dripping. “guess so.”

the receptionists giggle. “you should come to our advanced class sometime.”

shidou clicks his tongue, tilting his head like he was seriously considering it. “that does sound fun.” then he nudges you, voice dropping enough for only you to hear. “wouldn’t mind seeing you all worked up again.”

you shove his arm off, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck. “let’s go, ryu.”

he laughs, waving to the staff before catching up to you. as you walk out, he leans in,

“you jealous?”

“never letting this go, are you?” you mutter.

shidou presses a lazy kiss to your temple, smirk never fading. “never.”

ISAGI YOICHI ﾉ EMERGENCY ROOM ?!

isagi sits in the waiting room, fingers drumming lightly against the plastic armrest. you’re next to him, watching his slightly hunched posture, damp sheen of sweat still visible on his neck as he wipes a hand across his forehead. the soreness was starting to set in.

“didn’t think you’d need a visit to the ER today.”

he shoots you a sheepish grin, rubbing his side like he pulled something. “‘m fine, only overdid it a little.”

you give him a pointed look. “you were on the floor for, like, more than half of the class.”

isagi’s lips twitch, embarrassed. you could tell he wasn’t used to being out of his depth. “it wasn’t like that. I was just — uh — working on my form.”

“form?” you ruffle his hair before sitting next to him, regretting it when you realize how much sweat he really had on there. “that what we’re calling it now?”

“yeah, well..” he massages the back of his neck, eyes darting between you and the bland hospital decor. half a warning sticker is chipped off of the window next to him. “there were some moves that were a little more difficult than I thought.”

you fight a smile. “got all cocky ‘cause you’re good at soccer, huh? thought this was going to be the same?”

he laughs, it sounding akin to relief. “guess I’m not invincible after all.”

you lean back, shake your head. “you’re just human.”

isagi shifts next to you, eyes soft. “I’m learning to respect the process. even if it kicks my ass.”

“you’ll survive,” you said as the nurse calls his name from the speaker. he stands up with a groan, wincing a little while you help him up, arm around your shoulder.

“yeah,” he said, letting out a low chuckle. “but I’m definitely going to need a massage after this.”

“I’ll be sure to take good care of you, hero.”

his grin was back in full force. “counting on it.”

MEGURU BACHIRA ﾉ A SOCIAL EXPERIMENT

this dude. he was better than the instructors. sure, bachira didn’t know the terms nor the names of the poses, but did that stop him from replicating them immediately after demonstration? no.

you leave the studio with not only a stack of coupons, but a stack of coupons and a JOB OFFER for this man to be an instructor himself, the application forms stuffed into the complimentary tote bags given (obviously to bribe him and you to somehow accept). they also smell like a weird combination of humidifier oils. emphasis on weird.

“you know,” he starts, eyes glinting as faces you, elbows resting on the couch beside you, “I think that was the most fun I've had in forever.”

you glance at him, mental image of him doing a backbend of the reformer failing to leave your brain. “really? more fun than soccer?”

he let out a dramatic sigh, sinking into his hoodie like it was the most important decision he’d made all day. “well, soccer’s great and all, but there's something about getting all bendy and flexible that really speaks to me.” his eyes flick to your lips. “plus, I got to see you struggle. that was pretty adorable.”

you roll your eyes. “I wasn’t struggling, I was,” you reply with mock offense. “just had-”

“mhm, sure, sure,” bachira interrupts, reaching over and brushing a lock of hair from your face. “anyway, I was actually thinking.. you know, we should do this more. not pilates. well, maybe pilates, but just.. us time.” his fingers linger on your cheeks, pinching.

“us time?” you mumble, scowling while you swat his hands away. “does this mean you’re taking me to your next soccer game?”

he leans in closer, hand brushing against yours, the warmth of his skin against yours somehow feeling more familiar than anything else. his thumb traces slow, deliberate circles over your knuckles as his voice drops to a softer, more sincere tone. “I just like being with you. only you, none of the boys or anything. seriously just us. today was nice.”

“you’re a real sap, you know that?”

he chuckles, hands settling on the armrests to jump up and kiss your forehead. “only for you.”

ITOSHI RIN ﾉ LOCKER ROOM CLOWN SHOES

rin’s muscles ache in places he didn’t even know existed, and the soreness, compounded by the intensity of the soccer game earlier, was making him seriously regret not just letting you have your way with the whole pilates thing.

he leans back, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes narrowing as the pain shot through him. the guys — scattered around the locker room, were laughing and teasing as they got dressed, but it was hard to focus on them with the phone call vibrating softly in his hand.

“hey, I’m here,” rin says into the speaker, trying to sound casual, though the subtle groan in his voice gave away more than he intended. “-game just ended.”

the background noise blurs as you speak on the other end, voice soothing his exhaustion. “feeling okay?”

rin rolls his eyes, glancing over at the group making their way towards the exit. he could hear them snickering, probably about something they noticed — most likely the fact that his walk was a bit stiff, his posture not as fluid as it usually was.

“‘m fine, just sore from.. you know..” he winces, trying to stretch his arm without making a sound, though it was practically impossible to hide the discomfort. “from everything, really.”

in the background, someone — likely one of the forwards — shouts, “yo, itoshi! you good? looks like you’re getting soft.” rin pinches the bridge of his nose, a fraudulent attempt to ignore them.

you laugh, the sound clear and warm through the phone, and rin’s lips lift into a reluctant smile.

“they’re giving you a hard time?”

“they’re assholes,” he corrects, before switching the subject. “come over and take care of me later?”

romy 🐰 is typing… hi from march 16th. as of today at hour 12:15 in the afternoon I am head over heels for itoshi sae

© bowtiepasta: do not copy edit or repost anywhere