#im just genuinely curious now how youre making this work

[demonoinakemono]

ive been stumped

but wait this applies to if he was biologically related to cobs too though, doesnt it? using real world logic causes some issues

i like to bend the rules when something doesnt go how i want it so maybe thats what you did, i dunno

Don't worry kids - Momma Tessa will keep you safe! :D

- 💙

"I'm going with them, Fin. You and Cabby will need to take the rest of the kids."

[zg0nuwa]

𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 ; “𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬”

had this silly little thought where you ask miguel a bunch of questions about the multiverse

miguel o’hara x gn!reader

warnings ; this is stupid, miguel is confused, mentions of pregnancy/having a kid, my spanish knowledge is below zero so i used google (feel free to correct me)

“ what did you just ask me? ”

“ i asked what would happen if two people - ” you were pestering miguel with questions about the multiverse for the past hour or so. at first it was a basic conversation regarding what were canon events and how are they established, how the portals work and all the other boring stuff.

“ i heard you the first time. just- where did you get that question from? ”

“ don’t tell me you’ve never wondered how it would work if for example we were to have a kid. like, we’re from different universes. i’m just curious what would happen to the kid in this predicament. ” if you were anybody else he would probably just glare at you and go on with his work but due to your position in his heart he just stood there, absolutely mortified at the example you just provided.

in all honesty you weren’t even that much into the topic but being able to bother miguel just a little and watch him scrunch up his nose whenever you mentioned something that would probably classify you as mentally deranged was your favorite hobby.

“ dios por favor dame fuerza*. no, actually i’ve never thought about that. also that example was really uncalled for. ” he thanked his past self for making the office so dimly lit. if it was any brighter in here he’s 97% sure you would be able to see how his neck and ears go all red.

“ so you admit you don’t know what would happen? ”

“ sí, ahora ¿podemos cambiar el tema?* ”

“ okay, okay… there’s actually one more thing i was curious about. ” miguel only sighed and looked at you with an unimpressed expression.

“ should i be scared? ” at this point he had no idea what to expect, in fact he kinda expected anything. and his imagination was not helping him. you looked up at him with those big pleading eyes that at the same time were full of mischief.

“ if, for example, we were to start dating, would that make me you know… kind of a pedophile..? ” there was an awkward silence and the look he had was to be described only with the sentence “what the fuck”

“ what on god’s green earth are you talking about? ”

“ i mean, you’re from year 2099 right? and im from 2023 in my universe. so that would kind of suggest that technically i would be in my 40s or 50s when you were born right? that just… kind of weird to think about i guess? ”

that, he did not expect in any of his wildest scenarios.

“ i’m going to lose my fucking mind. ” he slumped forward hiding his face in his hands.

“ aw come on miguel! it’s a genuine problem i’m thinking about here! ”

* god please give me strength

* yes, now can we change the subject?

[heedeungism]

𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

•°. *࿐ PAIRING ― riki nishimura x fem!reader •°. *࿐ SYNOPSIS ― in which riki is smitten with you and your sharp tongue. •°. *࿐ GENRE ― one-shot, ????-to-lovers, fake dating, angst, fluff, crack, rich kid au, highschool lacrosse au •°. *࿐ WORD COUNT ― 22k •°. *࿐ CONTENT WARNING(S) ― violence(one fight) and threats of it, lots of tension, mc is a horndog what's new, i meant to make this slow like the first part but im a weak woman, weed, mc is her own worst enemy, mc is stupid before she is smart <3, attempted unwanted touching, riki is the jealous type but in a green flag way, don’t ask where the teachers are, riki has bigger hands than mc, kissing(many a time), once i got the angst out of the way it turned into crack js •°. *࿐ EXTRA NOTES ― thank you all for being so kind and giving me such helpful feedback and love! shoutout to my hg @1ntaks for once again holding my hand and basically beta reading this for me, you're the best queen. •°. *࿐ SOUNDTRACK ― busy woman by sabrina carpenter, don’t smile by sabrina carpenter, big girls don’t cry by fergie, better than me by doja cat, diet pepsi by addison rae, what a girl wants by christina aguilera, positions by ariana grande, he could be the one by hannah montana, bmf by sza

part one.

AT THE BEGINNING OF FEBRUARY you realized how easy it was to get over Eunseok at the same moment that it sinks in that you can’t get over Riki.

Maybe it's the fact that he’s still friendly despite the ‘breakup’, or that he still makes sweet comments that feel too genuine to be taken as flirting anymore. He hasn’t changed much of his behavior at all since the end of January, actually.

The news of the short-lived relationship spread around school. Though it was clear that you both were still friends, most of the rumors were dispelled. However, some were still infuriatingly present.

Now, you’re not the type of person who gives a shit about what other people think of you—especially not a bunch of pubescent teenagers with so little going on in their own lives that they find entertainment in yours. But your patience is wearing thin. If you hear another freshman whisper about you not being over your cheating ex, you are going to go insane. (Despite your reputation, you are above throwing hands with 14 year-olds.)

“So you want something like this, right?” Julie taps on her phone screen from across from you, showing the nail inspiration photo you had sent her just last week. When you only nod, she tilts her head with a curious raise of her brows, “We can do something different, hon’.”

Quickly, you shake your head and straighten your posture in the chair across from her, “No, sorry. I just—I’m just thinking about shit. I still want a set like that.” You force a soft laugh, and she nods with a soft ��okay’.

“So? Anything new?” She asks with a pretty smile as she plugs in her nail drill and turns on the dust collector.

You lay your hands onto the rest between the two of you, humming and then sighing, “I’m still single.”

Julie begins working at removing her work from three weeks ago with the drill, though the pink mask keeping her from inhaling the dust doesn’t hide her face of baffled confusion, “I thought you were dating that lacrosse guy, though.”

The sound of the drill and fan are like white noise to the both of you as you sigh and drop your head forward, “Didn’t work out.”

Julie gasps softly, clearly upset for you, “What’d he do?”

While you love that her first instinct was to ask what he did and not what you did, the latter is more fitting for the situation. “He was too perfect and I got scared?” You admit softly with a guilty shrug.

Julie pauses in her work and deadpans at you, “Ho.”

“I know!” You whine softly as she resumes, using your free hand to grab the chilled can of Dr Pepper she’d grabbed for you before your appointment started, sipping from the pink straw before you continue to whine, “I fucked up.”

“I never got to see a photo last time, either.” Julie recalls as she progresses to removing the hard-gel off your other hand, “You hadn’t picked anyone for your little plan, yet.”

Julie knowing about your genius plan to ruin Eunseok and Nayeon’s day, everyday, with your tall, hot, and sweet ‘boyfriend’ was inevitable. She had dropped the traitorous bitch as a client the moment you and Belle told her about it, equally as disgusted by Nayeon as the both of you. Not to mention, Belle always yapped her pretty head off during her appointments, so as previously stated, it was inevitable.

“You’re gonna hate me,” You say, grabbing your phone with your now dusty and bare fingers to quickly tap to a photo of Riki that Jake had sent you. He’s got his helmet tucked under his arm and seemed to be captured in a heated argument with another boy on the team. The first thing you noticed was his hands, though.

When she pauses to look at your screen, she looks at you again and sighs like a disappointed mother, shaking her head and turning the drill back on. You whine, “Don’t sigh at me, I’m in mourning.”

“I thought you said you weren’t worried about catching feelings.” She reminds you, and you roll your eyes.

“Bitch, look at him.” You sass, picking up your phone to show the still-lit screen before placing it facedown in your lap again, “and he was just so—sweet. And he liked when I was mean to him.”

“As he should.”

“—and his smile made me want to stick my head in an oven Sylvia Plath style.” You say with a soft pout on your lips, “It was so much so suddenly, and I freaked out.”

Julie turns off the drill and grabs the brush to clean off the dust from your hands as she nods slightly to what you’re saying, “And Eunseok was so recent.”

“—And Eunseok was so recent!” You repeat in vehement agreement, groaning up at the ceiling as you slump slightly, “Why do boys ruin everything?”

You spend the next few hours of your nail appointment ranting about everything. Riki, your ex, your ex best friend, your dad (who had texted you a long message after you left him that you promptly responded to with a ‘that doesn’t look like an apology so im not reading that’).

mommy dearest 🩷: can you pick up some groceries for me? just a few things

The text from your mom as you swipe your card on Julie’s reader is paired with a chime you recognize as your bank app. Your new nails tap on your screen as you open the notification, grinning at the sight of a hefty transfer of funds into your account. 

The small list your mother sends doesn’t come close to costing the amount she sent you to pay for it, so you decide to stop at Sephora while you’re out too.

You choose the highest percentage to tip and sign her phone screen with your knuckle before bidding her a happy farewell and exiting the salon. The drive to the strip center is barely ten minutes long, your BMW filled with Christina Aguilera and the trip slightly delayed by your admiration of your new nails at every red light. 

When you get into the Sephora, which you decided to visit first since your mom’s list included produce, you b-line to the skincare section. 

You’re debating between oil cleansers when you’re tapped on the shoulder. 

The woman before you looks around your mother’s age, a bit shorter than you but with a beautiful smile on her face. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but are you Y/n?”

You blink, caught off guard, but nod.

Her grin widens. “I’m Riki’s mom!”

Your stomach drops. Every instinct screams at you to panic, but instead, you paint a pretty smile on your face, the kind your mother taught you to perfect at charity galas. “Oh my god, hi!”

Before you can react, she pulls you into a hug, warm and tight, smelling faintly of lavender and vanilla. You reciprocate, though your arms are stiff and hesitant.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” she gushes, pulling back to hold you at arm’s length. Her eyes, as sharp and bright as Riki’s, scan you with something between approval and curiosity. “You’re just as lovely as he said.”

“Thank you,” you manage, your voice light despite the whirlwind in your chest at the sudden and  information that Riki talks about you at home. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“I can’t believe I ran into you like this!” she says, her excitement bubbling over. “You’re like a doll, honey. The photos he’s shown me don’t do you justice.”

Your brain short-circuits at the word photos. Plural.

“Oh?” you manage, keeping your smile intact even as your heart feels like it’s trying to escape the confines of your chest.

“Of course! He’s always talking about you,” she continues, as if she didn’t just drop a bomb on you in the middle of Sephora. “He showed me the cutest one of you two at the bowling alley—said it was his favorite night in a long time.”

Your breath catches, but you quickly cover it with a soft laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s so sweet of him.”

“It is, isn’t it?” She beams like she’s talking about a national treasure instead of her son. “He’s always been so shy when it comes to girls, but with you, it’s different. I can tell you mean a lot to him.”

The words land like a stone in your chest, heavy and impossible to ignore. You can’t tell if she’s trying to hint at something or if she’s just being a proud mom, but either way, you suddenly feel very out of your depth.

“That’s nice to hear,” you say lightly, though your throat feels tight. “He’s a great guy.”

She places a hand on your arm, her touch gentle but firm. “You’re good for him, you know. He’s happier these days, more confident.”

Your mind flashes to Riki’s easy smiles, the way he leans into you during conversations, the soft look in his eyes when he thinks you’re not paying attention. You swallow hard.

“Thank you, Mrs. Nishimura,” you say, your voice steadier than you feel . “That really means a lot.”

Her smile softens, and she gives your arm a little squeeze. “Oh, call me Rin, honey. And if you ever want to come over for dinner, just let me know. I’d love to have you.”

“Dinner sounds lovely,” you say with a polite smile, already running on autopilot. “I’ll have to check with Riki, but I’m sure he’d love that too.”

“Oh, good! I’ll talk to him about it tonight,” Rin says brightly, her excitement only adding to the internal chaos brewing in your chest. “You two are so sweet together—I can’t believe he didn’t tell me you were this gorgeous in person.”

You blink, momentarily stunned, and force out a soft laugh. “That’s really kind of you to say.”

“I mean it.” She gives you an approving once-over before leaning in conspiratorially. “You know, he’s usually so tight-lipped about his personal life. I had to drag it out of him that you two were dating in the first place.”

The air leaves your lungs like you’ve been punched. He hadn’t told her.

“He—uh—didn’t mention that we’re…” you start, the words catching in your throat.

“Together?” she finishes for you with a knowing smile. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t embarrass him too much about it. I just want him to be happy, and it’s so obvious you make him happy.”

You feel your face flush, your carefully constructed composure threatening to crack. But instead of correcting her, you nod, your smile tighter now. “That’s really sweet of you to say.”

She reaches out and pats your arm warmly. “It was so nice meeting you, sweetheart. I’ll let you get back to your shopping. Tell Riki I said hi, okay?”

“I will,” you promise, your voice light despite the storm in your head.

As soon as she disappears down another aisle, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Reaching for the oil cleansers again, you try to steady yourself, replaying her words over and over.

He didn’t tell her.

A part of you is…warm with the information. The other part wants to puke your guts out. 

You stare blankly at the oil cleansers in front of you, your grip tightening around the bottle in your hand. The woman’s words replay in your mind like a broken record, each one sharper than the last.

“He’s happier these days, more confident.”

“It’s so obvious you make him happy.”

“He didn’t tell me you were this gorgeous in person.”

Your chest tightens, a mix of guilt and something softer—but no less overwhelming—clawing its way up your throat. The whole point of fake dating was to not make things messy. Yet here you are, feeling like a lead character in a rom-com whose life is falling apart. Right now would be an amazing time for Matthew McConaughey to come out and sweep you off your feet. 

(You realize with borderline humiliating speed that you would much prefer if Riki swept you off your feet. Seriously, there must be something wrong with you.)

The bottle trembles slightly in your hand, and you force yourself to set it back on the shelf with a shaky exhale. You’re not the kind of girl who lets this sort of thing get to her. You’re confident, decisive, in control. Except when it comes to him.

The thought makes you pause, your fingers brushing absently over your nails as the memory of his smile creeps in—the one he reserved just for you, warm and easy and dangerous.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, grabbing the Sulwhasoo cleanser you were debating spending so much on and beginning to mindlessly fill the black Sephora tote as you walk through the aisles. Real therapy has nothing on retail therapy considering you know what your problems are and how to fix them. Paying someone to tell you those things seems counterproductive when you can make yourself feel better by treating yourself.

By all accounts, it’s been a good day for you. Getting out of the school parking lot was exceptionally easy despite the traffic you encounter more often than not. You got your nails done and love how they turned out. You’re currently splurging at Sephora. And now you have reason to believe Riki doesn’t secretly hate you for breaking his heart.

riki 🙈: just got out of practice

riki 🙈: are you coming to the game tomorrow?

You look at your phone as you tap your card on the reader and accept the large black and white striped bag from the girl at the counter.  Thanking her with a smile before beginning to make your way out to your car again. When you settle into the driver’s seat, the heat turns on as you place the bag into the passenger seat.

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, nails tapping against your case as your phone automatically hooks up to the bluetooth, ‘After Hours’ by The Weeknd beginning to play. “Oh, shut up.” You sigh as you pause the music and finally muster up the right response.

pretty girl 🪩: depends on how nice you are to me tomorrow

riki 🙈: i’ll bring you a gift rn

pretty girl 🪩: im not home

As soon as the text is marked as Read, your screen is replaced by his caller ID, a photo of him at age ten in a Michael Jackson costume lighting up your screen. You can’t help but chuckle before pressing the green button, reaching to turn the volume up as you ask with a playfully suspicious tone, “Can I help you?”

“Mhm, where are you?” His deep voice and hum makes you bite your fist.

You begin pulling out of the parking lot to make it across the street to the grocery store, “Getting groceries, why?”

“I wanna see you.” 

Lord have mercy—

“You sure you don’t just miss Gus?“ You hesitate to mention the revelations made by his very kind mother in Sephora, but decide to hold off.

“Oh, I do miss Gus, but I miss his mom more.”

Oh, you hate the soft laughter that leaves your mouth the moment you hear it, “I won’t be long at the store, it’s just a few things.”

There’s a shuffle on the other side, then he says, “What store?”

“Riki, it’s literally like four things.” You laugh at his shameless eagerness, “I’ll text you when I’m home.”

He chuckles softly before humming again, “Okay, bye pretty.”

“Bye.” A beat passes and ‘What a Girl Wants’ by Christina Aguilera blares through the speakers so loud you jump, “Jesus Christ.”

By the time you pull into the grocery store parking lot, you’ve replayed his voice in your head at least five times. I wanna see you. It wasn’t just what he said, but the way he said it—soft, easy, like he wasn’t asking for anything out of the ordinary. Like it was natural for him to want to be around you, and for you to want the same. You’re...friends. 

You curse the thought away as you grab your keys and step into the cold evening air, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder. You don’t need to be thinking about Riki Nishimura and his stupid, perfect face and voice the whole time.

The grocery run is quick—milk, eggs, a few vegetables, and a bag of Gus’s favorite treats because you can’t resist—and you’re back in your car in record time. You text Riki that you're on the way home and find yourself smiling when he loves the message. It drops a second later when you realize what you’re doing and curse again, tossing your phone into the cup holder like it’s on fire and covering your face to self-reflect.

When you pull into the driveway of your home, it isn’t hard to spot Riki’s black Jeep parked at the curb. What is hard is hiding the grin that forms on your lips as you park your car and get out to grab the groceries in your trunk. The lacrosse player is already exiting his own vehicle and jogging over to help you.

“You didn’t have to come,” you say as he reaches for the bag of vegetables in your hands, but there’s no bite to your words.

“You said you’d text me when you were home,” he replies, his voice light and teasing as he takes the other bags with ease. “I figured I’d save you the trouble.”

You shake your head, grabbing your Sephora bag and locking your car. “So damn impatient.”

“Only when it comes to you.” His response is so casual, so effortless, it knocks the air from your lungs. You glance at him, but he’s already halfway up the path, waiting for you at the door like he hadn’t just said something that made your knees weak.

When you catch up, you unlock the door with the code and nudge it open with your foot, paising once you’re inside to shut it behind him. You kick off your shoes and pass Riki to get to the kitchen, placing your Sephora bag on one of the island’s chairs and watching him place the few grocery bags on the counter. 

“Gus~” You call out as you begin to unpack the paper bags, and there’s a soft warbled meow in response in the direction of your room. The plump tuxedo cat appears around the corner, rubbing his body against the wall with another soft cry for attention that has Riki cooing and lowering himself to the ground to oblige him.

Once you’ve got groceries put away, you watch the 6’ something lacrosse player pet your cat with gentle scratches under his chin that he leans into with slow blinks, “Are you happy?”

Your softly giggled question has Riki smiling up at you, “So happy.”

With a soft huff of amusement, you grab your Sephora bag and walk in the direction of your room, choosing not to glance behind you to see if he’s following. Just act natural, bitch.

You leave your door open as you enter your room, thanking the lord that the cleaning lady had visited while you were out and your room isn’t as dirty as you left it this morning. Walking into your bathroom to start putting away your new skincare, you ignore the sound of him entering your room. 

“You have a lot of perfume.” You hear him comment, glancing over your shoulder to see him admiring the organized collection on your open vanity.

“Yeah, I...have a problem” You say with a soft laugh of slight embarrassment at your habit of buying yourself anything pretty or relatively cutesy. “I have more in my closet.”

Riki whistles lowly, seemingly a bit impressed, “Which one’s your favorite?”

With a hum of thought, you step out of your bathroom to walk to your closet. You don’t mind the open door as you enter, reaching the island in the center working double as storage and where you keep your perfumes. Riki follows just to the doorway, leaning against it as his eyes move from you to the expanse of your walk-in closet. The floor-to-ceiling shelves in the back displaying heels and boots of different luxury brands, the pretty runner rug beneath your feet, it all screams you.

You’re plucking your favorite bottle from the display when his eyes land on the corner of something flat and white hidden behind a woven hamper. The easy smile on your face drops the moment you see him pull it out from its hiding spot, a boyish grin on his face. “You sneaky fuck.” 

He laughs at your immediate cursing, holding the white board out of your reach as you hasten towards him to take it from him, “Pros and Cons?”

“Oh my god.” You give up on taking it from him, hands moving to try and cover his eyes, “Riki!”

“It’s about me, pretty girl.” he argues playfully, still laughing while trying to dodge your hands, “C’mon, just a peek!”

“Boys aren’t allowed to peek—Riki!” You fight laughter as his arm hooks around your head, his hand covering your face as he begins to read out the words you wish you had erased when you had the chance.

“‘Nickname kinda dumb’, you think my nicknames dumb?” He asks in an offended tone, laughter seeping into his words.

“That wasn’t me, that was Jongseob—“

“Cut his hair—Why is cutting my hair a con?” He asks incredulously, finally letting you push his hand away from your face to look down at you. Your back is still half-pressed to his chest, and the moment you can look up at him your heart skips like it’s playing hopscotch in your chest.

You catch the glance his eyes take down below your nose and find yourself pulling away quickly, grabbing the whiteboard from him to haphazardly use your sleeve to wipe the marker off, ignoring his laughed ‘hey!’ and sighing in relief when you erase enough for the rest of its contents to look like random pink lines across its surface.

When you spin around with a playfully pointed finger to curse him out, your words catch in your throat at the look in his eyes. 

How a look could be both heavy and so soft, you do not know, but it's the best way you can describe Riki’s gaze.

“Wh—“ You stammer with hesitation, face heating up as his soft smile turns into a smirk of amusement, “Stop looking at me like that.”

“How am I looking at you?” He questions in a light tone, almost soft. If you didn’t know better you’d think him genuine in his innocence, but the slight twitch of the corner of his lips and the way his eyes flit to yours gives it away.

“Riki.”

His name leaving your lips draws his gaze away from them, and his smirk turns into one more wry. “I left your gift in my car.” 

Your chest clenches painfully as he turns to exit your closet, your lips parting yet no words leaving them as he walks out. You follow after him, abandoning your perfume on the closest surface, “Riki, wait—“

“It’s okay—” he starts, turning just in time to stop you from crashing into him. His hands find your forearms instinctively, steadying you, but the sudden proximity freezes you both in place.

You blink up at him, startled, your breath hitching at the closeness. His fingers are warm through the fabric of your sweater, his touch gentle, like he’s afraid to hold on too tight.

“I—” You start to say something, anything, but your voice falters when you meet his gaze. There’s something there, something unspoken and unbearably soft that makes your chest ache. 

Your words catch in your throat when he gently steps back, his hands slipping away as though he’s suddenly aware of the space—or lack thereof—between you. “It’s fine,” he says, a faint smile tugging at his lips, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. His voice is soft, but there’s a distance in it that wasn’t there before, and it only makes the knot in your chest tighten. “I’ll go grab it.” 

You take a step forward before you can stop yourself, “Riki, I didn’t mean—”

“Really, don’t worry about it.” His voice is light, too light, as he cuts you off with a small wave of his hand. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

You hesitate, watching as he turns toward the hallway, his movements just a little too deliberate. His usual ease is gone, replaced by something quieter, more careful.

Your heart sinks. Is he upset with you? He doesn’t seem angry, but there’s a tension in the way he carries himself that wasn’t there before.

“I wasn’t trying to make things weird,” you blurt out, desperate to bridge the gap forming between you.

He pauses mid-step, his back still to you. For a moment, it seems like he might say something, but instead, he exhales quietly and turns just enough to glance over his shoulder.

“You didn’t,” he says, his tone softer now, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression—regret? Frustration? “It’s not you. I just… I need a second. That’s all.”

His mother’s words ring in your head again, “It’s so obvious you make him happy.”

Yet, you feel like the opposite is all you can see. You ask him to be your fake boyfriend to make your ex mad, not even considering his feelings. You tell him you can’t date him despite him treating you with more respect and care than Eunseok ever did. You let him kiss you. You kissed back.

Clearly, you have royally fucked up a few times now.

Confronting him about not telling his mother felt like it would only make things worse between the two of you. Maybe, it’d be better for him to hear it from his mother instead of you.

Your stomach twists, guilt gnawing at you even though his words tell you otherwise. You nod, unsure what else to say, and he offers a faint, almost apologetic smile before disappearing down the hall.

“And then what?” Belle questions with a vehemence that startles you slightly. Eunchae, Hiyyih, and Jongseob are all listening intently from their normal spots in your room, your oldest friend of the four standing with her hands on her hips.

When you had informed the group chat you were staying home the next day, you definitely did not expect the four to show up to your house after piling into an Uber. One look at your tear-streaked face was enough for them to ask the questions that brought you to now.

You stammer slightly, “He—He came back with the gift and made up an excuse to leave.”

“You let him leave?” Belle asks incredulously, and you shrink under her gaze, “Bitch.”

“I don’t know, okay!” You say with your face in your hands, frustrated tears burning your eyes again as you groan, “It’s all so complicated.”

Jongseob raises his hand, waiting for Belle to motion for him to speak before he asks, “Do you like him? Also, is this a bad time to say I have a joint in my bag?”

Eunchae punches his arm, and your hands slide off your face, mind too preoccupied by your current dilemma to even insult the only boy in the friend group for his lack of ability to read the room as usual. Hiyyih leans forward to let the youngest reach over her to get to him, “That was a good question until you ruined it.” 

”Do you like him, though?” Eunchae asks once Jongseob’s arm is surely to bruise and his hands are up in surrender.

You look up from your hands, “I don’t know—“

“You’re pissing me off.” Belle sighs, palm moving to her forehead, and while you know she means well. “You like him.”

“I can’t.” You argue, voice shaking as you fight tears. Eunchae moves from her bean bag to sit next to you. “All that shit with Eunseok was barely a month ago—“

“Who gives a shit about Eunseok anymore?” Belle snaps, throwing her hands up in frustration, “Just because you dated that asshole for two years doesn’t mean it’ll take that long for you to move on.”

“It still feels like I’m using him.” You finally let the tears fall, and her frustration seems to dissipate. She sighs softly, kneeling in front of your sitting form at the edge of your bed.

Her hands move to cover yours, “Do you still have feelings for Eunseok?” The face you make answers her question and she adds, “Do you still think of Riki as a way to get back at him?”

“Of course not.“

“Then you aren’t using him.” She finishes. “He went into this knowing your plan, and you said he even told you it wasn’t you that was the problem.”

You shake your head, tears falling as you blink them away, “He looked upset—“

“Then that’s his problem.” She argues again, “It’s his job to communicate how he feels if he likes you.”

“He does communicate. I’m the issue!” You cry pitifully, “I don’t want him to think I’m not over Eunseok because—I’m still so angry.”

“He cheated on you with your best friend, you don’t have to forgive him to be able to move on to a healthy relationship.” She states.

“But it feels—“ You can’t find words for why it feels wrong to want to date Riki, because the thought of it makes your heart race, “I don’t know! I’ve known him for barely a month and I just—“

“You like him and feel like it’s not real because it happened too fast?” She reads you like a damn book, but you’re almost thankful for it.

“Yes!” You cry, “And he deserves better than that.”

“So, you like Riki?” She repeats her question, her tone matching yours.

You find yourself answering before you can even think, “Yes!”

Your stomach drops as Belle stands like her work here is done. 

It isn’t you realizing you like Riki that has your stomach filling with dread and guilt, it's the fact that you like him more than you have ever liked anyone. 

You liked Eunseok, even told him you loved him, but that seed hadn’t grown in your chest no matter how many times it left your mouth in the form of ‘I love you.’

Yet, you imagine yourself with Riki—loving him—and it all sounds so…easy. The mundanity you dreaded having to live with Eunseok sounded like a dream with Riki. Falling in love with him sounded like something you wouldn’t mind experiencing. 

Which, all things considered, is fucking terrifying to you.

Hiyyih, who had been silently watching the interaction, pats the shoulder of the boy beside her, “I think she’s gonna need that joint now, Seob.”

The shaggy-haired producer straightens up, nodding and quickly reaching for his bag to pull the baggy from the front pocket.

Belle moves toward your closet, “Manchae, Hiyyih, help her wipe her face while I find her an outfit for the game tonight.”

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head in a panicked way that makes Belle grab your face in her hands, uncaring of the fact she’s squishing your cheeks, “Do you want Riki to be your boyfriend, yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Then you are going to this game, and you are going to look hot.” She walks you through it like she’s talking to a child, “And when he scores the winning home run, you’re going to run onto that field and jump him, got it?”

Jongseob raises his hand again, though doesn't wait to be called on as he interjects, “Home runs are baseball—“

“That isn't the point, dipshit.” Eunchae sasses before turning her attention back to you, “Can I ask what the gift he got you was?”

You nod as Belle releases your face, sniffling softly as you hold up your hand to showcase the charm bracelet on your wrist. Two charms hang from it, your birthstone and a tiny lacrosse stick. “He said he got it before…everything happened.”

“He bought you a charm bracelet after a week of knowing you?” Jongseob asks in a suspicious tone, and when the three girls besides you shoot him a dirty look, he holds his hands up in surrender, “Sorry—it’s just I think I’ve…connected some dots.”

“You haven’t connected shit.” Eunchae says, before promptly adding, “I just wanted to say that, you can continue.”

Jongseob shoots her an annoyed look, before looking at you and beginning, “Well, I was talking to Soul the other day—y’know the one that goes to music club with me— and he said he and Riki were friends in Freshman year.”

His hesitant pause has you looking at him and saying, “What does that mean to me?”

He continues, “He mentioned him having a huge crush on a girl then—“

“Why would I want to know this, Seob?” You question with exasperation.

“Let me finish!” He insists, and you sigh, motioning for him to land the damn plane, “I did some digging—aka asking his teammates about it—and while most of them didn’t know or wouldn’t tell me, Jake kind of insinuated it was you.”

You blink, “How did he insinuate it was me?”

“Well, I asked him what he thought about your breakup and he got all weepy about it. Said he was rooting for you guys to be endgame.” Typical Jake. “Then, I mentioned you guys not knowing each other for long and it sounded like he almost said that Riki’s been into you for years.”

The four of you blink at the boy’s retelling of events, and Belle is the first to snap out of her surprise, “And why didn’t you tell us this when you found out?”

“You guys never let me talk. Plus, that seemed like the last thing she wanted to hear.” He argues, then motions to you, and none of the girls in the room can really argue back. He doesn’t seem all that bothered about the truth of his own statement, though, as he holds up the bagged joint once more. “Now, are we smoking this or not?”

Parking your car has never left you with such a dreadful feeling in your gut, which Jongseob swore a hit of his shitty joint would ease, yet all it did was jumble your thoughts more. 

The temperature sensor reads a biting 30°F, and as you zip up the thick teddy puffer jacket you shiver with pure nerves. “Fuck.” 

Flipping down the sun visor, you check your reflection in its mirror. The warm light reflects off the gloss on your lips, which you fuss over with the pad of your finger even though it’s as perfect as it was when you applied it. 

Stalling. You’re stalling.

With a deep breath, you snap the visor shut and cut the engine, grabbing your purse and phone before stepping into the biting cold. The frigid air slashes through the layers of your outfit, your jacket doing little to stop the chill. You already regret picking the cuter option over something more practical, but you’d made your bed. Now you had to lie in it.

Ain't that the truth.

The field is already alive with movement and muted chatter. Teams are warming up, their voices cutting through the chilly air as balls thud against lacrosse sticks and cleats crunch on frosted grass. You can’t see Riki yet, but the sight of the players in their jerseys stirs the knot in your chest.

Decelis Demons v. YG Pirates

As you near the bleachers, a familiar voice calling your name stops you in your tracks. 

“Over here!” 

You turn, spotting Riki’s mom waving at you with a warm smile, flanked by two young girls bundled in matching puffer jackets. His sisters. The younger one is tugging impatiently at her scarf, while the older stands with her arms crossed, looking vaguely unimpressed by the entire ordeal.

“Mrs. Nishimura, hi!” you manage once you’ve climbed the bleachers to join her side, hoping your smile doesn’t betray the whirlwind of emotions brewing beneath the surface.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she says, her voice as kind as you remember. “Riki didn’t mention anything, but I figured you’d be here for him.”

Your face heats at her words, but you force a nod, gripping the strap of your purse tighter and attempting to ignore the cold nipping at your fingers. “Of course, even if it's colder than a Yeti’s ass out here.” 

You almost regret your colorful language before the older girl snorts softly, “Preach.” 

Mrs. Nishimura chuckles, “It is freezing,” she agrees. “I told Riki he should’ve picked an indoor sport, but you know how stubborn he is.” She jests, and then proceeds to add, “Oh, and these are my daughters, Maki and Runa

You smile at the two of them, Maki’s a bit more subdued but Runa’s bright as she waves. At the mention of Riki, your eyes scan the field for a glimpse of his number. The players are still warming up, running drills and shouting plays back and forth.

And then you see him.

Riki stands near the goalpost, casually balancing his stick across his shoulders as he chats with a teammate. Even in the midst of the pregame chaos, he moves with the same effortless confidence that always draws attention, his tall frame impossible to miss.

The sight of him stirs something unfamiliar and electric in your chest. It’s not the usual comfort you’ve come to associate with him—it’s sharper, more restless, like an itch you can’t quite get to.

You tear your gaze away from him when you hear your name called once again, finding Gaeul quickly climbing the steps of the bleachers to get to you, her free gloved hand catching your arm happily, “I was hoping you’d be here!”

You smile, part of you relieved that she isn’t acting differently despite everything, and your eyes fall on the poster board in her other hand, “Is that for Jay?”

She follows your gaze and nods, unrolling it to reveal ‘Go Jay!’ with a big 19 under it, which you assume is his jersey number. The dark red sweatshirt under her puffer reads the same number as well. “Cute, right?”

“Very cute.” You reply with a soft laugh, smoothing a crease from the corner of the poster board as you add, “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“He better,” Gaeul huffs in a mock seriousness, “M’freezing my ass off for him.”

Mrs. Nishimura, who seems to have been listening in from her spot beside you, chimes in with a knowing smile, “He still insists you come to every game?”

You momentary confusion is quickly shaken off as you remind yourself that Gaeul and Jay have been dating since sophomore year, of course Riki’s mom knows her, and the girl in question nods fondly, “He says I’m his good luck charm—“ She gasps, and you blink, “—I forgot to kiss him before I left earlier!”

Your brief panic induced by her gasp subsides as you giggle softly, “Oh, no!”

She playfully smacks your arm and grabs it, “You’re coming with me for that.”

Your laughter doesn’t subside, only grows, as she motions to the Nishimura’s that you’ll ‘be right back’ and begins tugging you along down the bleachers, “Where are we going?”

“To kiss my man.” She answers, but pauses in her step to look at you and clarify, “I’m kissing him, you…can kiss Riki.”

“I will not be doing that, but I respect the effort.”

She groans melodramatically as the both of you continue walking down the bleachers, “Aww, c’mon, you guys were so cute together!”

You thank the lord that it’s too loud for Rin and her daughters to hear the girl from this distance, both for your sake and Riki’s, but laugh softly, “I don’t think kissing him a week after breaking his heart is the right move to get him back.”

Gaeul pauses on the last step to look at you with an unhinged jaw as soon as you realize your mistake, opening your mouth to deny before the accusations leave her pink lips, “You want him back?” 

Her words are shrill with excitement and you have the sudden urge to shrink into nothingness as you hover a cold shivering hand over her mouth and avoid the gazes of those around you both, “Bitch, shut up!”

She flattens her lips in an attempt to compose herself but fails to muffle the excited squeal and bounce of her gait as she tugs you down the side steps of the bleachers to get to the field.

The lacrosse field feels bigger up close, the expanse of frosted grass sprawling out under the big lights on either side of it. Gaeul marches ahead with purpose, her poster now tucked under her arm as she scans for Jay. You lag behind slightly, your thoughts still buzzing from the last few minutes.

“Gaeul, slow down,” you mutter, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself as the cold nips at your ears.

She ignores you, her focus locked on a cluster of players by the bench. You spot Jay among them, laughing at something one of his teammates says. Gaeul picks up her pace, her excitement palpable, leaving you to follow at a more hesitant shuffle.

You scan the group of players, not recognizing any of them as Riki. When you do find him, you exhale heavily at the sight of him deep in conversation with Jungkook, the coach clearly getting on his ass for something.

“Hey there,” a voice calls out, smooth and laced with a confidence that plants a murky feeling in your gut. You glance up to see a guy in a YG Pirates jersey standing in front of you, his helmet tucked under his arm and a cocky grin on his face. 32 is bold and dark green on his chest.

“Lost, sweetheart?” he asks, his tone dripping with mock concern.

You take a step back instinctively, your eyes narrowing. “Do I know you?”

He raises a brow, his grin widening as if you’ve said something amusing. “Feisty, huh? Just my type.”

Your stomach twists at his boldness, irritation bubbling under your skin. You glance over his shoulder, hoping to spot Gaeul, but she’s already halfway to Jay, oblivious to your predicament. “Ew,” you blanch curtly, trying to sidestep him, but he shifts to block your path again.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he presses, leaning in slightly. “I’m just trying to be friendly. What’s your name?”

Before you can muster a surely bitchy reply—or a curse—a presence appears behind you.

“I don’t think this is your side of the field,” a familiar voice cuts in, light yet edged with authority. You glance up to see Heeseung standing at your side now, his lacrosse stick casually balanced over his shoulder, his expression calm but his gaze sharp. “Can’t you tell by the colors, dude?”

The opposing player stiffens slightly, his grin faltering as he sizes up Heeseung. “Just talkin’, man,” he mutters, his tone defensive now.

Heeseung doesn’t flinch, his smile remaining intact as he tilts his head slightly. “Right. And now you’re done.”

The player hesitates for a moment before shrugging and backing away, muttering something under his breath as he turns and jogs off. Once he’s gone, Heeseung turns to you, his easy smile returning. “You good?”

You refuse to utter ‘that was hot,’ so you settle for a, “Yeah. Thanks for that, though.”

Heeseung shakes his head, “Nah, you had that handled.”

You barely miss a beat with your response, “Yeah, but it was sweet of you.”

He shrugs with his hand up and that same grin, “What can I say?”

You make a face, “Not that.“

He goes to defend himself, but Gaeul appears with smeared lipgloss and a pretty grin to happily say, “Coach is kicking us off the field.”

“Joyful.” You say with a playfully stiff smile that has Heeseung whining. A soft giggle from you has his frown turning into a grin again and he shoots you a salute.

“I’ll tell Riki you wished him good luck, ma’am.”

“Don’t get concussed, say that too.” You call back as Gaeul tugs you back toward the bleachers, poster under her arm creased. She’s beaming, and you giggle at her glowing smile, “I think I know what you and Jay got up to while I was harassed.”

Her smile drops as she gasps with concern, “Harassed? What happened?” 

“It’s not that serious.” You quickly assure her, “Heeseung kinda scared him off, he was a guy on the YG team.”

“Ew.” She makes a face as you both arrive at the bleachers, and you nod.

“That’s what I said.” 

As you both arrive back to your seats, and you gasp and happily accept a hot chocolate Rin had thoughtfully gotten for you with a sweet side hug. God you hope Riki still wants you and you can keep this saint of a woman in your life.

As if on cue, the referee blows a sharp whistle, and the players jog to their respective side of the field. Riki is dismissed by Jungkook and pulls his helmet from under his arm as the other members of the team crowd around the coach, his head turning just enough to scan the bleachers.

Your heart skips as his gaze locks onto yours for a fleeting moment.

He doesn’t smile, not exactly—but his expression softens, his eyes warming like he’s relieved to see you there. The corner of his mouth twitches just enough to feel like a secret, like something meant only for you.

And then he pulls his helmet over his head and focuses on Jungkook’s words, it almost feels like a shock to your system but the lingering warmth in your chest makes it hard to feel the cold anymore.

You watch the team huddle, Jungkook’s game face amusing enough to you that you snicker softly before your attention falls back to Riki. Heeseung, who if your memory serves you right is 01, catches Riki’s shoulder in a brotherly way. 

Your brows furrow as you see Riki’s head tilt slightly at what Heeseung says, glancing in your direction and then the opposing teams, and you assume his eyes search for a jersey that reads 32.

The players move onto the field with another whistle, and you watch with dread as two opposing jerseys approach the center of the field. 10 and 32.

Now, you know very little about lacrosse despite it being your school’s biggest sport and your brother playing it, but you know that Riki is a midfielder. You know this through his excited play-by-plays of practice to you on the phone whenever he was finally out, as well as the basic knowledge of how a lacrosse game starts. Two midfielders wrestling for the ball. 

It couldn’t be called wrestling, however. Riki swipes it barely millisecond after the ref blows his whistle, tossing the ball to 05. 

You gasp softly as his shoulder slams into 32s chest hard enough to send him stumbling back, but his body moves quickly toward the opposing defense and away from the startled enemy. If you didn’t know any better you’d assume he was only doing so to keep him off Jake’s back. “Geez, what did you feed him?”

You ask Rin softly, eyes trained on her son and your brain attempting to wrap itself around the difference in his body language and…aggression on-field, when he had barely risen above a loud speaking volume in your presence. She chuckles, “Would you believe me if I said his diet largely consisted of taiyaki and ramen growing up?”

“No.” You awe at her words, eyes still on him but flitting to meet hers for a brief second, “That’s just unfair.”

“Tell me about it,” The elder of his sisters huffs, “I ate my vegetables and have glasses an inch thick, but he gets to eat sweets all his life and has perfect vision.”

“That’s your fathers genetics, not mine.” Rin clarifies, offering you an explanation like it’s second nature already, “That man can’t see something coming straight at his face until it’s already hit him.”

“My brother has horrible vision, too.” You snicker softly, your eyes rarely leaving Riki but only doing so to look between the three Nishimuras, “Refused to wear contacts, even for lacrosse.” You motion in the general direction of the field, and the older woman seems intrigued.

“Your brother plays?”

You shake your head with a soft laugh at your brother’s expense, “Not since highschool, and he was benched most games because he couldn’t see the ball,” your words have Rin laughing and Maki snorting, “plus he generally sucked. He really only joined because his friend was on the team.”

Jake scores a goal and the crowd around you goes wild with cheers, mainly higher in pitch. You let out a supportive cheer and immediately act like you didn’t when his helmeted head turns your way. You’re almost positive a shit-eating grin has formed behind his helmet.

The game continues, the scoreboard leaning toward Decelis’ victory as the first two quarters come to a close and half-time ensues. 

“No.” You reject Gaeul’s suggestion almost as soon as it leaves her mouth.

“Aww, c’mon!” She whines, tugging your arm closest to her, “His face would be so funny!”

“He’s wearing a helmet, you can’t see his face. And it’s small enough for you to hold up by yourself.” You point at the poster-board in his hands, which she had happily held up for a good portion of the game until her arms got tired.

“But my arms are gonna fall off.” She groans melodramatically, “Please?”

“Buy me another cocoa and I’ll think about it.”

As half-time comes to a close, your right arm is screaming for relief while you hold your side of the poster up and nurse a cup of steaming cocoa in the other hand. Gaeul shamelessly screams in support of her boyfriend, who you see hunch over slightly like he’s holding back laughter of amusement.

Your hand feels like it’s about to fall off, and you curse yourself for refusing the mittens Eunchae had offered in favor of showing off your new nails. ‘They’re too pretty to cover up,’ you had whined, yet now you wouldn’t be surprised if your fingers started breaking off like a vampire’s from Twilight.

The scoreboard reads heavily in the home team’s favor, and you pray to every deity that the game finally ends for your arm’s sake (and your crippling anxiety). Though, watching Riki slice through YG’s defense and score points like they're nothing doesn’t look like it’ll be getting old for you anytime soon. 

“You’re drooling.” Gaeul teases as you suck in a sharp breath at the sight of Riki once again shoulder 32 off balance, hard enough for him to fall onto his ass this time. Tensions are high as the time counts down, though part of you’s hoping this never ends. 

“I don’t drool.” You retort in a soft grumble, yet you rub the side of your wrist over the corners of your mouth self-consciously. “I’m a fucking lady.”

“Right…” Gaeul agrees with playful doubt in her tone that’s punctuated by giggles as you playfully shove her shoulder.

The final whistle slices through the winter air as Riki launches the ball into the goal, accompanied by an uproar of cheers and groans from the crowd. Decelis has won, 12-7, the scoreboard glowing with the decisive win. The players pour onto the field, some celebrating, others trudging off in defeat. Your eyes dart instinctively toward Riki, helmet under his arm, hair damp with sweat as he exchanges fist bumps and quick words with his teammates. The way his expression softens to a grin when Jake slings an arm around his shoulders makes your stomach twist.

You clutch your empty cocoa cup, suddenly desperate to find a reason to approach him. Before you can muster up a plan, the chaos swallows him—players crowding, parents flooding in from the sidelines, and Gaeul’s excited tug on your sleeve pulling you back to the moment.

“Let’s go find Jay!” she beams, and you immediately look toward Rin, Maki, and Runa.

The woman smiles warmly and pats your shoulder, “We always wait in the parking lot for him. You two can have a moment.”

Gaeul is dragging you down the bleachers the moment you softly thank the woman. Your heart thrums as you scan the chaos for Riki, but he’s nowhere to be found. Gaeul bounces ahead, her attention locked on her boyfriend. 

Her hand slips from your arm as you’re both swept into the excitement, and her curls disappear in the crowd. 

The field feels like a warzone, buzzing with shouts, laughter, and the rhythmic stomp of cleats against frozen grass. You’re jostled in every direction, bodies pressing and colliding as parents swarm to congratulate their kids, and the players themselves disappear into the fray. Your fingers curl around the half-empty cocoa cup as if it might ground you, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Where is he?

You catch glimpses of Riki’s teammates—Jake’s unmistakable blonde head bobbing as he jokes with Heeseung, Sunghoon hoisted onto someone’s shoulders—but Riki remains elusive, swallowed by the tide of bodies.

“Riki!” His name slips out, barely audible over the noise, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. What are you even doing? Someone brushes past you, hard enough to make you stumble. “Watch it,” you mutter, turning to see a player in a YG jersey, helmet off and grin too familiar.

32.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just gives you a once-over that makes your skin crawl. His shoulder brushes yours again as he angles toward you, his smirk sharper now. “Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he drawls, voice low enough that it’s almost lost in the noise.

You make a face of disdain, like speaking to him both disgusts you and is beneath you, “Is that supposed to be cute?”

“C’mon,” He says, tone dripping with what you assume is his attempt at charm, “Don’t be like that. You’ve been watchin’ me the whole game.”

“I don’t even know you.” You respond with the same look on your face that reads you’d rather be anywhere else than where you are, listening to him.

He steps closer, undeterred by your tone and clear disgust, “That can be remedied,” His voice is low, and you see his hand move from his side to reach for your waist.

Your anger takes over your motor control, and the half-empty, long chilled cocoa in your hand splatters over the front of his jersey, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

The cocoa splashes onto his jersey in a satisfying arc, the dark liquid seeping into the white fabric. His grin falters for a moment, replaced by a stunned look that quickly twists into irritation. “Are you fucking serious?” he snaps, brushing at the stain, but it’s a futile effort.

“Yeah, I’m fucking serious,” You retort, mirroring his tone, “Who the fuck told you that you could fucking touch me?” 

The players around you have started to notice the commotion, a few stopping to watch as Number 32 bites back, “You’re not even worth half of what that bitch offered me.”

If what boiled within you was anger, then what it morphs into at the player’s statement must be seething fury, “Excuse me?”

“What’s goin’ on here?” A hand clasps over your shoulder but the voice calms any volatile reaction brewing in your gut, Jungkook stepping between you and the YG player.

Jungkook’s presence immediately shifts the energy around you. His broad frame looms between you and Number 32, the way his body blocks out the other player like a wall of stone, calm yet unyielding. The cocky grin fades from the YG player’s face as he holds up his hands in mock surrender, shooting a glare at Jungkook.

Jungkook doesn’t even glance at the YG player, his focus entirely on you as he steps closer, his gaze softening slightly when he sees the tension in your shoulders and the shift in your jaw. “You okay?” he asks, his voice surprisingly gentle in the midst of the chaos.

You nod, even though the heat of anger still lingers in your chest. “I’m fine,” you say, but your voice shakes just enough that Jungkook catches it.

His eyes flick briefly to the YG player, who’s clearly not in the mood to test Jungkook’s patience any further. “Walk with me,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. You want to protest, to stay and search for Riki, but something about the way Jungkook stands there—tall, unshakable—tells you it’s not worth resisting.

He guides you through the crowd and off the field with his hands on your shoulders. When the two of you arrive at the edge of the field where the bleachers drop off and the parking lot comes into view, he releases you. “Do I need to go talk to that kid’s coach? Or parents?”

“No, I think the shit-colored stain on his jersey says enough.” You retort swiftly, the implications of his words stick with you, though. ‘You’re not even worth half of what that bitch offered me.’

It isn’t as if you woke up yesterday, you know he’s talking about Nayeon. Whether it be some kind of intuition or you’re just that fucking familiar with her thought process from years of what you had thought was friendship, you know it. 

“Hey.” Jungkook’s gruff but somewhat gentle call snaps you out of your stewing, and you blink at him, “Don’t do anything I’m gonna hear about, okay?”

Your immature response is interrupted by the loud cheers and chatter morphing into shouts and hollers of a more alarmed tone that has the both of you looking in the direction of the field. Jungkook doesn't seem eager to let you involve yourself in whatever it is that’s going down on the field, you know this because he’s shooing you off toward your car in a dismissive but authoritative tone. 

If you cared at all about anything except beating Nayeon’s face in at the moment you would be protesting and following after him as he jogs toward the commotion, but you don’t. Instead, you walk to your car, toss your Prada bag into the passenger seat as it begins to warm up, and plot.

Watching your friend group’s grins fall while learning that you did not, in fact, kiss Riki after the game but left without even speaking to him in a fit of blind rage was not how you wanted to start your weekend. You blame their soured moods for the fact that all four of them were avidly against your plan to beat Nayeon’s face in the next time you see her, but begrudgingly decided to not jump to conclusions.

The only proof you have that Nayeon was the one to sic that cretin on you may be his words, which aren’t worth much, but you refuse to believe anything else.

Monday arrives with not a singular text or call from Riki, and while Belle has already talked you off of the metaphorical ledge about it, you feel the urge to disappear off the face of the Earth every time you imagine seeing him again after leaving the game he asked you to attend without so much as a word.

Part of you figures the silence on his end is payback, or him deciding to finally let his alleged crush on you go. The other part of you really hopes he was just busy.

Jake is…silent in your second period. Not that you’d mind the silence on any other day, but it’s definitely not normal. Well, he’s silent until he catches sight of the charm bracelet on your wrist as it clinks softly on the desk. His grin is back in seconds and he takes his phone out.

“Want a picture?” You offer sarcastically. When Jake eagerly nods and holds his phone up for the picture, you shoot it a mock smile and manicured middle finger as your charm bracelet catches the light above.

With giddy giggles, Jake takes the photo and practically bounces in his seat in joy as he taps his thumbs on his screen hastily. You’re rolling your eyes and looking down at your worksheet when he asks, “Wanna know who I’m texting?”

“If I wanted to know I’d ask.” You respond swiftly, tapping the eraser-end of your pencil on the desk absentmindedly.

“It’s Riki.” He states with a smugness that pisses you off.

Looking up from the paper, you raise your brows, “Okay?”

“He needed proof,” He adds on with his arms crossed as he leans back in his seat, “Wanna know why?”

“I feel like you’re gonna tell me anyway.”

He’s still smirking as he proves you right, “He thinks you hate him.”

You blink, annoyed nonchalance pushed aside by genuine confusion, “Why would he think that?”

Jake shrugs, though his face seems anything but clueless and you hate that he knows more than you do, “Maybe ‘cause you left the game without saying anything to him.”

“Jungkook made me get off the field.” 

“You could’ve waited with his family in the parking lot.”

“Well, I didn’t.” You snap, growing frustrated with the conversation despite it being your own damn fault, “Why are you telling me this, Jake?”

“‘Cause he’s my friend and he’s been miserable.”

“Then he should talk to me.” You retort with a sigh, guilt filling your gut despite your defensive words, and he tilts his head with a nod of agreement, “If I hated him he’d know. I don’t exactly keep that shit a secret.”

Jake, who had bore witness to your fight with Jaclyn Delvacchio in junior year, hums, “Well, can you do us all a favor and talk to him, please?”

“We have fifth period, I’m not gonna ignore him for an hour when he sits next to me.” You roll your eyes and focus back down at your worksheet.

By the time the bell rings, you’re halfway between plotting your own demise and debating if you should actually try to talk to Riki. The idea makes your stomach twist. What if Jake was wrong, and Riki doesn’t want to hear from you? What if your silence solidified something in him—pushed him away for good?

But then you remember how he smiled at you that day in the hallway, the soft tug of his lips like he couldn’t stop himself, and how his eyes lit up when you agreed to come to the bowling date. You remember the way his voice faltered ever-so-slightly when he asked you, like he was bracing himself for rejection but couldn’t bear not to try.

The thought makes your stomach hurt and your chest heavy, and you realize something that makes you want to kick yourself: you don’t want to lose that. You don’t want to lose him.

Yet, you so easily brushed him aside in your list of priorities to stew in your anger about someone who shouldn’t even be a thought in your mind at this point. 

You screwed up. Again. 

At this point, you feel like you’re winning the losing game. Not only do you hate losing, but you hate the feeling in your chest and gut that makes you want to go home and rot until Riki forgets you ever existed. Belle’s voice screams in your head to talk to him, to make the effort to speak to him and throw away your pride.

So, instead of staying in your old Latin teacher’s class for fourth period grading papers, you persuade her to let you spend your fourth period ‘at lunch with your friends’. 

Your friends all share the same lunch period; sixth, when you’ve already gone home. So you lied, yes.

But Riki has fourth period lunch.

You slip through the cafeteria doors, the clang of trays and the murmur of conversation fading as you scan the room for him. The place is packed, and your heart beats louder than the chatter around you. It’s ridiculous—Riki isn’t hard to find. But your anxiety builds anyway, sending a slight tremble through your hands.

You spot him by the window, his profile framed by sunlight, his usual quiet demeanor marking him as an island in the chaos of the cafeteria. His friends surround him, but they’re not your focus. Your eyes zero in on him, his long sleeves pulled up to his elbows, his hair messy and covering his forehead like he didn’t feel like styling it this morning, the rings on his hands that glint in the cafeteria light.

But before you can make your way over, the sound of a voice you loathe cuts through the air, sharper than glass.

“A couple hundred bucks and he was practically my dog.” Nayeon muses at the two girls you barely recognize that sit across from her at a table not far from you, “Sucks that he failed, though. Would have spent my money on someone else.”

“So you…had him hit on her?” The girl on the left asks, a bit confused as she exchanges a look with the girl beside her.

Nayeon seems eager to relay the details, “I told him she liked playing hard to get,” She shrugs disinterested, yet you see a sliver of the smirk on her face from your angle, “made him all the more eager to knock her down a peg.”

The two girls seem peeved by what she says, like any sane person would be, but anything either wants to say dies on their tongue as they catch sight of you. “Girl…”

One trails off as you begin your approach, the same lightness in your gut that has your vision clouded with seething fury.

She looks over her shoulder just enough for you to see her smirk drop into wide-eyed fear.

Your hand catches the back of her head, slamming the side of her face into the table with little care for the eyes that immediately find you, “Sorry, I didn’t hear you, bitch. What was that?” There’s ‘ooo’s and ‘oh shit’s from the wuickly forming crowd as you pull her up by her hair, launching the flailing girl onto the ground. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

She scrambles off the ground, immediately getting in your face as she hisses, “You don’t deserve him.” 

“Oh, fuck you.” You curse as your hand meets her face, and she shrieks as her head snaps to side. 

Nayeon recoils for a moment, eyes wide with shock, but the anger on her face quickly replaces any hesitation. "You think I'm scared of you?" She spits, moving toward you with a snarl. She may not have expected this, but now that it's happening, she seems desperate to prove herself.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, you shove her into one of the metal chairs, the clattering sound of it screeching across the floor as she stumbles backward. The two girls hasten to get out of the way, faces a mix of fear and ‘oh shit’. 

Nayeon picks herself up with blind fury guiding her actions, hands flying out as she lunges forward to shove you back. Your hands grasp her hair again, and the crowd surrounding the scene roars.

Her nails claw at your wrist as you yank her forward. She’s small, but her anger makes her stronger than she has any right to be. The fight is a mess of hair pulling and shoving, curses from you and shrieks from her.

You shove her hard into the table again, the force sending a tray of half-eaten food crashing to the floor, and the crowd goes wild, hooting and cheering. The heat in your chest ignites with every movement. The adrenaline rush is undeniable.

Nayeon's attempts to push you back only seem to fuel your anger further. Her breath is ragged, and you can practically taste the bitterness she's been carrying since the moment you stepped into her world. Every movement of hers is desperate, like she's trying to claw her way back to a victory she's long since lost.

"Get the fuck off me!" she yells, her voice barely audible over the chaos. But you don't listen. You slam her against the chair again, hard enough that she falls onto her ass, eyes wide with disbelief. Nayeon's face contorts in pure anger as you approach again, her hands flying up in a futile attempt to strike you. Her nails scratch at your arms, but the pain barely registers.

But then, someone grabs your waist, lifting you off the ground effortlessly. The world tilts as you're pulled off of Nayeon, feet leaving the ground. For the split second that you’re struggling against them, thinking it’s one of her friends or a teacher, you curse at them too.

Then the cologne hits your nose and the voice hits your ears, “Alright, that’s enough, pretty girl.”

Your heart stutters in your chest as Riki’s voice cuts through the frenzy, low and soft in your ear, but with a sharp edge of firmness that you’ve never heard from him before. His grip on you doesn’t waver, and despite the anger still coursing through your veins, you freeze for a second, thrown off by the ease he had pulling you off of that traitorous bitch—who’s being held back by Jake and Jungwon.

“Skank!” Nayeon shrieks, clawing at Jake and Jungwon’s arms that keep her from lunging at you again.

Any calm that Riki’s presence brought you is washed away, but he pulls you back by the waist as you move to have a go at Nayeon again. His arms wrapping around you to keep your arms at your sides as you bite back,  “Says you, bitch.”

“Easy, easy,” He eases, your back hitting his chest as your jerky and angry movements force him to pick you up again, “Cool it, baby. You got her good.”

“Get her out of here before the teachers get here,” Heeseung orders in a hushed tone as the other members of the lacrosse team grab at phones and shove the crowd back.

“I’m not—hey!” Your defiant statement is interrupted by the arm around your waist tightening and your feet lifting off the floor once more. “Riki!”

“I know, I know.” Riki’s hold is firm as you struggle weakly against him, his voice deep and low like he’s easing a wild animal, his touch warm. You can’t bring yourself to fight back the way you did with Nayeon as he walks you out of the cafeteria building. His presence, the warmth of his chest against your back, it all has your defense mechanisms easing up and your anger softening to a low simmer.

When he finally sets you back down, the cool chill of the air eased only by the sunlight hitting the two of you, you turn to face him with a charged glare, “I can walk.”

He holds his hands up in good faith, or maybe an attempt to calm you down, “I know, baby.”

“And she deserved that.”

“I know, baby.”

The way he repeats himself so softly, how he’s letting you take out the remnants of your anger on him, it only makes the ache in your chest worsen. You exhale sharply, “Stop that.”

“Okay.” He says, voice soft but no pain or hurt to be detected in his voice, only in his eyes.

Your own sting almost automatically with both frustration and anger at yourself and no one else, “No, not—“ Taking a deep breath, your hands move to your face, “This is all wrong.”

“What is?” You try not to notice how he doesn’t attach ‘pretty girl’ or ‘baby’ to the end of his question. You fail.

“Everything.” You mutter, exhaling another soft, “Fuck.”

“You’re bleeding.” He points out, his hands pulling yours from your face to examine the scratches up your arms. 

“Nails are intact, though.” You mumble softly, trying to make yourself feel better. Riki looks at you in slight disapproval, brows furrowing, and you add, “I’m okay.”

He sighs, shaking his head, “There’s a first-aid kit in the locker room, let me clean you up.”

“Ew, I’m not going into the boys locker room.” You reject his offer with an obstinance that would usually amuse him, yet he shows a sliver of frustration in his body language. “And I told you, I’m fine.”

“Okay, you can either walk or I can carry you.”

“As if.” 

Your challenge is met with him raising his eyebrows and lunging for you a second later. You flinch and swat at his hands, “Okay, fine!” He pulls back again with a ‘that’s what i thought’ look, “I’ll walk.” you add with a defiant ‘hmph’ as you walk past him.

He doesn’t press the issue, following you towards the athletics building and holding the door open for you to enter first, to your utter fury of course. Stupid boys. Stupid emotions.

When you find the boys locker room, you pause as he pushes the door open, “I’m not going in there.”

He sighs with a nod like he expected as such, “I’ll be right back, stay here.”   

You sigh and cross your arms, rolling your eyes and leaning back against the wall across the locker room entrance.

Riki returns with a first aid kit and his hoodie, “Let’s go to the bleachers, no one’s got practice today.” You assume the hoodie is for you, and you’re proved correct when he tosses it into your face and snickers when you curse at him. “C’mon.”

You begrudgingly walk with him out of the athletics building to the school field not a far walk from the entrance. 

You hear the bell ring from where you sit on the bleachers minutes later as your chilled fingers are tended to by the lacrosse player, “You’ll be late, you know.”

“We’ll both be. It’s fifth period now.” He states as he delicately cleans the raw skin streaking up your wrist with an alcohol wipe.

“Ow.” You mumble, and he tsks with a growing smile.

“Don’t be a baby.” He teases, and you mock his words in a higher pitched voice back to him.

“Fuck you.”

He snickers softly, gently rotating your hand in his to clean the visible lines tainting the delicate flesh, “Baby.”

His statement isn’t the beckon or fond coo you wish it’d be, but it causes flutters in your gut all the same. You mock him again and he huffs softly in amusement, refraining from continuing the back and forth to focus on your scratched up wrists and forearms. 

As he moves to your right hand, his touch lingers on the charm bracelet hanging off your wrist as he dabs at the skin. The metal chain catches the sunlight, twinkling faintly against your wrist as Riki pauses. His thumb brushes over one of the charms absentmindedly before he speaks, voice softer than you expected. “You’re wearing it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you reply, trying to sound casual despite the way your pulse stutters. His touch, even as fleeting as it is, sends a warm shiver through you.

“I just…” he trails off, dark eyes flicking up to meet yours briefly, his gaze filled with something tender. “I wasn’t sure if it was your style.”

“Why’s that?” You ask with a slight furrow of your brows, and he snickers softly.

“I’m sure it’s not the luxury you’re accustomed to.” 

“Everything I wear isn’t expensive. I’m not a snob.” You huff in slight offense, though he finds it amusing.

“Never said you were a snob, princess.” He clarifies, discarding the alcohol wipe to grab the ointment from the kit, “Nothing wrong with being spoiled.”

“I’m not—“ you go to argue, but the amusement on his face has the words dying on your tongue as you look away from him, “You’re such an ass.”

“Aww, I’m wounded.” He pouts softly, before it turns into that pretty smile again and he laughs softly, “It looks good on you.”

It takes a half-second for you to remember he’s talking about the bracelet, and your instinctive reply comes in the form of a weak, “Fuck off.”

His head falls forward as he laughs at your weakly aggressive statement. His touch is still gentle as he continues, hands unbelievably warm around yours. How unfair.

“Your hands are freezing.” He states softly, tube of ointment placed aside in favor of engulfing your hands in his. You watch him rub at them, your nails clicking against his rings with every movement until they catch his attention, “These are nice.”

“I know.”

He huffs in amusement, biting his bottom lip before he says, “‘Course you do.”

The tension between the two of you shifts, delicate and tenuous, like a thread stretched too tight. Riki’s touch is warm and steady, and you hate how easy it would be to let yourself relax into it. His thumbs keep brushing over your knuckles, slow and deliberate, and your chest tightens with every pass.

You clear your throat, trying to focus anywhere but his hands, but when you look up, his gaze is already on you. It’s not intense, exactly. Not piercing or overwhelming. Just…soft. Patient, even. The kind of look that has your fight or flight instincts kicking in to protect the 

“What?” you snap, defensive and unsure, your voice sharper than you mean for it to be. You regret it instantly when his brow furrows slightly, though his hands don’t pull away.

“Nothing,” he replies softly, his voice steady. “Just glad you’re okay.”

The simplicity of it almost knocks the wind out of you. You blink, trying to find a reply that won’t give you away, but the words stick in your throat. All you can manage is a mumbled, “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Yeah,” he says, his tone carrying a gentleness that makes you ache. “But I worry about you anyway.”

You don’t know what to do with that—how to handle the sincerity in his voice or the way his touch lingers like he’s afraid to let go. It feels like too much and not enough all at once.

“You shouldn’t,” you mutter, trying to pull your hands back, but he holds them lightly, just enough to keep you there without forcing you.

“Can’t really help it, pretty girl.” His lips curve into a faint smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Especially when you’re getting into fights.”

Your stomach twists, a cocktail of guilt and frustration bubbling to the surface. You want to tell him it wasn’t just a fight. That it was Nayeon, that she deserved it, that you were defending yourself in more ways than one. But that isn’t the truth, is it? Not really.

“I—” You start, then stop, swallowing down the lump rising in your throat. “I don’t—” Your voice wavers, and you hate it. “Riki, I can’t—I’m not good at this.”

“At what?” his hands grasp yours tighter as he leans forward with his gaze so…so attentive. 

“This.” You motion vaguely between the two of you, trying to not cry in front of him. You’re failing horribly. “Us. You. Me. God, fuck.”

“Talk to me, pretty girl.” He pleas softly, and your chest feels as warm as your hands are in his.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” You exhale, head dropping back in an attempt to keep your frustrated tears from falling, “And I keep fucking up everything good in my life, and I just—“

His neck cranes slightly to meet your gaze as you avert it to his hands around yours, waiting for you to continue. Listening.

You take a deep breath, “I like you, I really do,” his thumbs slow to a stop against your knuckles, but you don’t look at him, “and you’re so—perfect and I’m not—“

“Don’t say that—“

“I’m not.” You insist, and one of his hands moves to your cheek as you continue, thumb gently wiping away a stray tear, “I’m…messy and mean-“

“I don’t care about that.” He argues gently, but you’re not done.

“-and I can’t even handle my own shit in a mature way so why should I be able to give you anything better—“

You don’t get to finish as his lips press against yours, cutting off your spiraling words with a kiss so sudden and deliberate it steals every thought from your head. 

His hand on your cheek tilts your head up toward him, his other remains holding yours. It’s not a hesitant kiss. There’s nothing unsure or tentative about it, not like the first one he gave you. He isn’t suffocating you, or doing anything more than moving his lips against yours like it’s all he’s wanted to do for years but knows to take his time savoring it instead of rushing in with teeth and tongue.

All you know is that you’re leaning into him, your anger, frustration, and self-doubt melting away under the weight of his touch. It’s a good kiss—better than good. It’s consuming, overwhelming, and entirely too much, yet you feel like more wouldn’t be all that bad.

When he pulls back it isn’t far, his forehead resting against yours. You’re breathless, your lips tingling in the aftermath and brain foggier than you’d like to admit. His nose brushes against your as he says, “I don’t care about any of that,” his voice is low and hoarse, “I just want you.”

You exhale shakily, feeling his words hit you lips, “Riki—“ 

“I’ll wait.” He promises softly, a hint of desperation in his words that has something in your gut fluttering, “However long it takes for you to be ready, I’ll wait.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you shake your head weakly, looking down at your lap. “That’s not fair to you.”

“I don’t care about fair, pretty girl.” He responds with a slight smile, hand moving from your cheek to tilt your chin up and make you look at him. His gaze flits between your eyes and lingers below your nose, a pattern that mirrors your own. “I can wait.”

His words are soft, spoken like an oath as his eyes find your lips again and decide to stay there a while.

“Why?” You ask, barely a whisper.

Riki lifts his gaze to look you in the eyes, a soft smile on his lips as he says, “‘Cause I like you more.”

You roll your eyes, “Is it a competition?”

He hums low, as if apprehensive, “Not much of one.” Your jaw drops slightly as if offended and he laughs softly, “I mean, I have you completely outmatched, pretty girl.”

“Oh, yeah?” You challenge with a slight laugh, “How so?”

He shifts closer as he hums again in thought, “Well, you’ve liked me for how long? A few weeks?” The question is more of a statement, and he seems unbothered by the short time-span with the smile on his face, “Yeah, I’ve got you beat.”

“You didn’t know me until recently, so it doesn’t count.” You argue with defiance, and he raises his brows.

“Are you invalidating my feelings for you right now?” He asks in a mock-offended tone, hand moving to his chest.

You scoff with playful annoyance, looking away from him briefly before your gaze finds him all over again, like a moth to a flame, “How long?”

His smile turns shier, and he chuckles awkwardly, “Nah, it’s not a competition. You’re right.”

“Nuh-uh, you started it,” You laugh, shoving his sturdy chest weakly, “C’mon, I already know. I just wanna hear it.”

Your smug words paired with the shrug you give have his eyes narrowing, “You know?”

You nod, “Jake ratted you out.” 

Riki’s eyes widen slightly and he groans, head dropping forward in embarrassment, “I’m gonna kill him.”

Riki lifts his head, still chuckling under his breath as he finally relents, “Alright, fine.” His eyes meet yours again, warm and steady, even as a blush creeps across his cheeks and ears. “Since freshman year. Happy now?”

Despite you being the one to force it out of him, you hold back the urge to giggle and turn away from him. “Very.” You answer with a slightly blissful grin on your face.

“You gonna hold that over my head?” He asks playfully, leaning closer like he wants to kiss you again.

You fight every impulse telling you to close the distance yourself, but let your eyes move between his eyes and smirking lips freely, “I might.”

“Yeah?” He jests softly. 

You hum, deciding to be a little mean. “I could also hold over your head that your mom still thinks we’re dating.”

His eyes shut and the hand creeping towards yours again freezes. His head falls forward and you panic for a moment thinking you went too far before you realize his shoulders are shaking and you can hear soft wheezing. “You’re mean.”

His muffled whine makes you snicker gleefully, and you add, “She said I’m good for you.”

You don’t realize the joy behind those words until he raises his head with a teasing but genuine (and flirty) grin on his face as he asks, “You’re happy about that, huh baby?”

You find yourself teasing him back instead of getting hostile at his flirty tone, probably due to the boost he gave your ego, “Mmm, not as happy as you seem to be with me as your girlfriend. According to your mom, anyway.”

Before he can reply, a familiar voice cuts through the moment.

“Nishimura.”

Both of you whip your heads toward the source of the sound. Standing at the bottom of the bleachers with his arms crossed and an exasperated expression is Jungkook. He’s wearing a hoodie and joggers, looking like he just came from the gym with his curls in a bun, but his sharp eyes land squarely on Riki first, then shift to you.

“What the hell are you two doing up there?” Jungkook asks, though there’s no real heat in his tone.

Riki straightens up, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Just…taking care of something, Coach.”

Jungkook’s brows rise, and he gestures toward the field. “And why aren’t you in class?”

“I—uh—” Riki stammers before Jungkook waves a hand dismissively.

“Save it. I don’t need the whole story. Just get your ass to class before I have you running suicides until next week.” His gaze softens slightly as it flicks to you. “And you? ”

You shrink a little under his stare, mumbling, “I wasn’t feeling well.”

Jungkook lets out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You—” He shakes his head before gesturing toward the parking lot. “Go home, kid. And no more fights, please—or distracting my team.”

“Alright, alright,” you mumble as you stand. You glance at Riki, who’s already grinning like this whole thing is hilarious, and shoot him a glare. “Stop smiling, you ass.”

Riki just snickers, his grin growing wider as he stands. “I’ll walk you to your car, pretty girl.”

Jungkook shakes his head, muttering something about teenagers and their hormones. “She can walk herself, get to class.” 

Any complaint Riki wants to make is silenced by the pointed finger Jungkook sends him, and he sighs. Your cheeks burn as he leans down to press a kiss to one of them with a soft, “See you later, pretty girl.” 

Riki averts his eyes from Jungkook’s judgmental gaze as his star midfielder jogs down the bleacher steps, offering a respectful bow of his head as he passes.

Jungkook then looks over at you, and you’re already arguing, “I have to get my bag from my locker.” 

He deadpans, clearly unimpressed as he says, “Ask one of your friends to get it for you.” 

Unable to argue with his reasoning, you let out a soft huff and begin patting your pockets for your phone. A relieved sigh escapes your gloss-smudged lips when your fingers brush against the device through a layer of fabric. Silently, you thank whichever of your spirit guides prompted you to button your back pocket before entering the cafeteria.

You suddenly remember another reason to stay a bit longer, “My keys are in my bag!”

Jungkook sighs, “If I see you in the halls in 10 minutes you’re getting banned from my field.”

You grin, bouncing down the steps with a happy, “Thanks, Coach Jeon.”

He makes a face of disgust, hand gently pushing the side of your head as you walk by, “Get out of here.”

It’s almost laughable how quickly the situation disappears, like it never happened. No one snitches—not one person. Even the crowd of students who saw everything miraculously forget when teachers start asking questions. It’s the lacrosse team who spins the story, their collective loyalty so seamless you almost believe they rehearsed it. Nayeon threw the first punch, they all swear. You didn’t fight back. You defended yourself.

The only video evidence of the fight are clips of Nayeon lunging for you and blurry photos, another thing you’re sure the lacrosse team took care of, so the school really have nothing to go off of. By the time the dust settles, it’s like the cafeteria incident is just another school rumor, one of those things everyone knows happened yet every retelling of events sounds skewed in some way.

Your mother hadn’t been informed by the school of the issue, thankfully, but you had endured a scathing voicemail from your father about the ‘stunt’ you pulled with Eunseok’s ‘bright and good’ girlfriend while eating Chinese takeout with Belle Tuesday night. She sat there munching on an eggroll and snatching small pieces of your sweet-fire chicken while your father’s angry ramble drew on and on for a few long minutes before he ended it with a, ‘call me back.’ The laughing fit you and Belle had over that one has become a bit of an inside joke now.

Thursday evening finds you in the kitchen of your home following your Aunt’s slutty brownie recipe with Riki on FaceTime propped up against the egg carton. “Butter, butter, butter…” You mumble to yourself as you reach for the ingredient, making a face as some of the softened dairy gets on your thumb. Riki, who had been silently observing you through the screen, snickers softly. You send a pointed look to the camera, “Don’t laugh at me.”

“M’not, you're just cute.”

“Fuck you.” You lose the fight against the smile forming on your face as you unfold the waxy wrapping of the butter and tip it into the mixing bowl, “I’m always cute.”

He only hums low with that same smirk on his face as he rests his chin on his arm, watching you switch on the mixer and grab a brownie pan from the cabinet beside the stove. A beat passes and he asks, “You don’t have to, you know?”

You glance away from pressing your knuckles into the cookie dough to flatten it along the bottom of the greased pan, “I know, but I don’t want your friends to have anything over me.”

Your joke is received with a soft laugh, “I wouldn’t let them hold it over you.”

“While I would like to see that, this is much easier.” You dismiss as you move to the sink to wash your hands and grab the pack of oreos. “Plus, Jungkook loves slutty brownies so maybe he’ll take the stick out of his ass if he gets one.”

Riki snorts softly on the other end, his bangs messily covering his forehead and eyes, “It’s game day, I don’t think the stick will come out.”

You hum in defeat, shrugging slightly as you begin to place the layer of oreos into the pan, “A sweet treat for good graces then.” 

Once you finish the layer of oreos, pour the brownie batter over it, and stick it in the oven, you sigh loudly. Fanning yourself and pulling your hair off your neck as you move toward your phone to grab it. “Jesus Christ, it’s hot.”

“It’s 30° outside.” 

“I’m not outside, I’m inside.” You sass with a ‘duh’ look on your face as you hold the phone angled up at your face as you walk toward the living room. “And how dare you try to contradict me.”

“Sorry, pretty girl. It won’t happen again.” He responds after a light chuckle.

You feign another roll of your eyes as you fail to fight the smile growing on your lips once again. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

The next morning, you arrive at school earlier than you’d like—especially with how fucking cold it is. Still, you look cute and feel it too, with a new lip gloss on your lips and a pair of pearls on your ears to match the ones on your eyes.

Exiting your car, you hasten your trek to the field. The bags rustle at your sides as you chant a soft tune of “I’m so fucking cold” under your breath. Your hands are, once again, not protected by gloves as you so vehemently refuse to cover up Julie’s masterpiece. She was very pleased that her hard work stayed intact during the fight, but recommended you treat your hands with care if you want them to last as long as they usually do. 

Jungkook notices your approach, tipped off by the high-pitched shiver that escapes your lips as you finally arrive on the field—a sound that doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the team either. They seem to all slowly get distracted by your figure’s approach, eyes drawn to either the bags at your sides or cute way you’re walking in the cold.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook snaps in annoyance, his tone almost dismissive.

“Jesus Christ, this violates the Geneva Conventions in some way, I'm sure.” You huff softly, holding up the bags as you arrive at his side, “I made slutty brownies.”

Jungkook’s frown softens as the team parrots your words hopefully, and he then barks, “Single file, maggots.”

You’re almost too cold to enjoy the spectacle the team provides racing to get first in line, yet keeping a respectful distance ahead of you. You snicker softly as you set the bags down, bending with a shiver to grab them to pass out before the one in front of the line protests. 

“You’re cold?” Kai asks with worry from the front of the line, and the one behind him, Taehyun, steps out of line with his arms held out.

“I’ll pass them out, you need to warm up.” He fusses with a slight scolding tone, “There are hot-packs over there.” He cocks his head toward the bleachers as he takes your place in front of the bags.

You’re left standing there in confusion as Taehyun takes over your current job, walking towards the bleachers in search of the stated hotpacks before a warm object is pressed to your cheek and you startle. 

Riki snickers softly as you look at him in disgust before realizing it’s him, and your face softens to an eyeroll with a soft ‘fuck off’ muttered under your breath. You move to grab the hotpack from him, but he cheekily holds it out of your reach with a boyish giggle. 

The look you give him has him flattening his lips to hold back a grin as he silently hands the heat pack to you with a muttered apology. 

“Why aren’t you in line?” You question, and he has that same smirk on his face.

He shrugs, “Wanted to talk to my girl first.” You give him a look and he groans, “Can’t you just let me indulge for a second?”

“Patience is a virtue, Riki.” You muse as you cross your arms to tuck your hands away with a hotpack in each hand. “Plus, you said you’d wait.”

“And I will—I am.” He confirms with a shake of his head and a lighthearted grin, “But you could be a little more forgiving, pretty girl.”

“I don’t believe in forgiveness.” You retort with a shrug and a pretty smile.

“Niki!” Jake calls out from the line a few yards away, he’s a few players behind with a grin on his face as he says, “Don’t worry about getting in line, I’ll get you one!”

“Yeah, keep talkin’ to your girlfriend~.” Sunghoon teases, causing most of the team to snicker or whistle.

Riki’s ears go red, but when you point it out with a giggle, his hand immediately shoots to one of the red appendages and he shakes his head, “It’s the cold.”

“Niki, our shy boy!” Heeseung coos from the line, and the rest are all too eager to join in.

“Wow, Niki, you're so cute!”

“Niki, kiss her!”

“It’s giving Romeo!”

Riki groans softly, hands covering his face from your vision as you laugh, a warmth blooming in your chest that eases the chill in your bones. “I’m gonna kill them.”

He’s about to say something else when Taki takes a bite of the brownie in his hand and grunts something sounding like “oh yeah” with his words garbled by the mouthful he’s chewing. 

You watch the scene unfold with amusement, leaning back on your heels as the team collectively loses their minds over a baked good. Taki, still mid-chew, looks like he’s having a near-spiritual experience, while Jungkook shouts something about chewing with his mouth closed.

Riki uses the distraction to lower his hands from his face, a grin breaking through his earlier embarrassment as he watches you watching them. His voice cuts through the chaos, low and teasing: “You seem happy.”

Your gaze moves to him, “Is that an issue?”

“Not at all.” He responds smoothly, “You look good when you’re happy.”

“I always look good.” You retort out of habit. 

He seems to have expected it, nodding along in agreement before he asks, “So, if I asked you to wear my jersey instead of whatever cute shirt you were gonna wear tonight, would you?”

“Look good? Yes.” You answer with a light, teasing tone, “Agree? Mmm, maybe.”

“You’re killing me, baby.”

“Sweet names will get you nowhere.”

“So, you like it when I call you that?” He asks, stepping closer with a cheeky grin.

You remain defiant, arms crossed as you instinctively lean away from him with a laugh, “I never said that.”

“You didn’t deny it either.” He retorts swiftly, his head tilting and his eyes moving over your face with a smugness that pisses you off.

“No, I didn’t.” You agree, and his eyes narrow slightly at the almost flirty smile on your lips as you turn away from him to make your way back to Taehyun. 

You fight the giddy feeling in your chest as you feel his gaze on you, deciding against sparing a glance back as you hear the crunch of his steps following after you.

As always, you’re right. Riki’s spare jersey looks adorable on you.

“He’s gonna die.” Gaeul practically squeals at the sight of you. It’s a bit warmer than the morning had been when you arrive at the opposing school’s stadium, the long sleeved fleece-lined undershirt protecting you from the chilled breeze. “Bitch, your ass looks fantastic.”

A grin brightens your face and laugh leaves your glossy lips as she fawns over your look, “Right?” You turn slightly to give her a better view of your behind purely out of excitement, because yeah, your ass looks good in these jeans. 

“It’s smiling at me,” She gasps, smacking your butt lightly with a laugh before hooking her arm with yours and beginning to tug you along. “I didn’t know if you’d come tonight with everything that happened last game.” 

“Why?” You ask a bit cluelessly, before remembering the event clearer and shaking your head, “Oh, that weird guy? No, I’m fine.”

She hums with a slight frown as the two of you get to the concessions, “I’m so sorry for leaving you in all the chaos, I didn’t realize you weren’t behind me until I got to Jay.”

Sensing the remorse behind her words, you find yourself quickly saying, “Don’t feel bad, I’m okay.”

“Ugh, I need your number! That’s been eating me alive all week!” She huffs softly as the line moves up, “I tried to find you at school but you kept evading me.”

“You couldn’t ask Belle? Don’t you two share a class?” You question with a slight tilt of your head and her jaw slacks.

“Why did I not think of that?” She mutters to herself as you both reach the front of the line and she orders herself a soft pretzel before looking over at you, “My treat, an apology.”

You aren’t one to reject free food when offered, so you look at the concession worker and say, “A Dr Pepper and another soft pretzel, please.” 

Gaeul pays and a worker in the back pulls out two warm pretzels as another grabs the familiar maroon bottle from a cooler. She starts speaking again the moment the food and drinks are in your hands.

“Food isn’t allowed on the field, but I already gave Jay a kiss before he went on the bus.” 

Her smile is suggestive, and you make a face that has her whining, “C’mon, I’ll hold your food while you go—“ She shimmies her shoulders and purses her lips into a kissy face that has you letting out a shrill ‘ew, stop!’

“That’s deplorable.” Your words contradict the laughter seeping into your speech, “I am not going down there.”

“Boring.” She groans, but her face brightens suddenly and she waves ahead. When you follow her gaze and find Mrs Nishimura approaching, you internally freak out until she smiles at you and you remember how lovely of a woman she is. 

A lovely woman who seems to zero in on the jersey you wear the moment she’s within arms reach, “Oh, don’t you look darling!”

She pulls you into a warm hug and you accept it keenly, “Thank you! Are Maki and Runa with you?”

Your question comes as she pulls away, keeping you at arms-length as she shakes her head, “No, they stayed home with their father, neither wanted to make the trip.”

The trip being about an hour long car ride to the other side of town, which is fair. Feels shorter when you’re driving, though. You got through SZA’s new album on the way, too.

The three of you make it to the bleachers, finding a spot to watch the game as the ref whistles and the teams start to huddle. The board reads:

STARSHIP ALIENS v. DECELIS DEMONS

You sporadically tear pieces off of your soft pretzel as your eyes follow Riki the entire game, catching his eye at multiple points and having to act like you don’t see he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face under that face-guard.

The Demon’s win 12-8 long past sunset, a chill nipping your nose and the empty paper your pretzel came in crumbled into a ball in your hand. Rin sends you the same look as the last game before retreating toward the parking lot.

The moment you step foot on the field after releasing Gaeul’s arm, Jake appears in your view with a big grin, “Didja see the weaving I did? I looked cool, right?”

You debate breaking it to the boy that you may have entirely forgotten he was even on the team, too focused on his teammate to even notice him.

“I don’t think she was watching you.” Heeseung appears with his helmet off and his sweat-drenched hair sticking to his forehead. He moves to throw an arm around your shoulder and you quickly dodge with an ‘eugh’.

“You’re sweaty and you stink.” You grumble with a grimace on your face, and Heeseung seems ready to complain before he grins again at something behind you and a second later arms engulf you from behind. 

“You’re cute from the back too, pretty girl.” Riki muses into your ear, lifting you up held against his chest with his arms wrapped around you. 

“Riki, you sweaty bastard, let me go!” You whine, struggling against him as he lets your feet touch the ground again.

He giggles boyishly as he obeys, and as you turn to give him a piece of your mind you find the curses dying on your tongue at the grin on his face.

His smile is wide and unapologetically smug, the kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes and makes your chest feel like your heart is trying to claw its way out. His helmet dangles loosely in his hand now, his hair a damp mess but somehow still looking good.

“You can’t just pick people up like that,” you say, trying to sound annoyed but betraying yourself when your lips twitch upward. “It’s rude.”

He leans forward slightly, closing the gap between you as if he can’t keep himself away. “Oh? You didn’t like it?”

You roll your eyes, stepping back to put some space between you, but Riki matches your movement with an exaggerated pout, clearly enjoying himself. Before you can fire back with something probably aggressive or mean, another voice cuts in.

“Alright, Romeo, stop flirting and help us pack up,” Jungwon calls, dragging the duffel bags of gear toward the bus. He tosses a water bottle at Riki, who catches it without really looking.

“I’ll see you in a minute,” Riki says softly, his grin softening into something warmer that sends an entirely different kind of shiver through you. He leans down and kisses your cheek before jogging off to join his teammates. 

Holy fuck.

Your heart is racing in your chest like an old woman whose heart is about to give out, and your long sleeve undershirt is suddenly too damn hot. 

You barely manage to pull yourself together before Gaeul pops up next to you, a knowing smirk spread across her face as she loops her arm around yours. “He kissed you~,” she sing-songs, her tone just low enough not to draw attention, but her amusement is blatant.

“Fuck off,” you mumble, pressing a hand to your cheek like it’ll somehow stop the warmth there from spreading like the grin in your face. You hope the shadows cast by the stadium lights are enough to hide your flustered state.

Gaeul doesn’t let up as the two of you wander toward the edge of the field, her giggles like little daggers stabbing at your already tattered dignity. “He picked you up. And got touchy.”

“I’m aware,” You huff, “I experienced it.”

“I mean, I don’t think you get how big a deal this is,” she practically rambles, “Riki’s never been this…confident!”

“Oh?” You question with your brows furrowed slightly.

She nods with an eager hum, “Riki’s shy! At least he was when I first met him.” Everything up to this point hadn’t pointed you in that direction regarding Riki’s personality, too familiar with the smug smiles and nonchalance, “I mean, he’s like a different person now that you’re around.”

“That’s…good, right?” You question hesitantly, “I mean, he wasn’t weird or anything, right?”

Your voice must have failed to convey the jesting tone you intended because Gaeul quickly begins to backtrack as you approach the bus. Jungkook is at the driver's seat of the bus while some of the team boards it with their duffles hanging from their shoulders and others are loading the luggage compartment with gear, free of their shoulder pads and helmets. 

Even without the padding, Riki’s back is broad, jersey hanging off muscle. You can barely see Jake past him, who's on the other side of the compartment helping organize it. 

You forget about any questions on your tongue when the shorter male cheekily points out your approach from behind and he looks over his shoulder for you with the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

Beautiful bastard.

He wastes no time in loading the equipment bag in his hands into the compartment before stepping away from the bus, jogging toward you with that grin. Gaeul begins to pull away with a grin, but leans in to speak quietly enough for him to not hear, “I’ll give you guys a second.”

She shoots a wink at you as she and Riki pass each other, a soft snicker leaving you as she calls out happily for Jay, who’s just stepped off the bus.

Riki slows as he reaches you, his smile turning slightly sheepish now that it’s just the two of you. He lifts a hand to scratch the back of his neck, his other hand gripping the hem of his jersey. “You’re not mad about earlier, right?”

You ignore the fact his movements cause the jersey to ride up, revealing a sliver of his abdomen that makes you feel like a Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time.

“I haven’t decided yet.” You respond with a nonchalant shrug and a thoughtful tilt of your head. 

He chuckles softly, his hand dropping from his nape as he steps closer with the same magnetism as before, like he doesn’t want to be too far, “C’mon, I was happy you’re here.”

“And you just had to pick me up?”

His laugh is warm and full, the sound washing over you and melting away any annoyance you could have pretended to feel. “Yes.” he says with a nod, his eyes crinkling at the corners again as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. 

This time, you roll your eyes and half-fight the smile naturally growing on your face, “Fine, but that’s your first strike.”

His brows raise in curiosity, his grin turning to a smirk as he asks, “First strike? How many do I get?”

“Three. Duh.” You sass, and he seems to find that just as amusing as your very serious strike system, though you find it kinda hot that he didn’t question the logic behind it. (The answer: if Sheldon Cooper can have a strike system, so can you.)

“And what happens after three?” He asks, leaning closer with intrigue and that stupid smile.

“Let’s hope you never find out.” You retort, having an idea of what to say but not sure if ‘flogging’ is too far. (You know Belle would laugh, though.)

“Nishimura!” Jungkook barks from the open doors of the bus. The last of the team is filing onto the bus, probably eager to get home. “Stop lollygagging and get on the damn bus.”

You snort softly at the word choice, but find that you aren’t safe from the Coach’s annoyance, “You too, go home. Don’t make me tell them about Shadow.” 

The gasp that leaves your lips is one of pure betrayal. The audacity. The nerve. “You—”

He raises his brows in a ‘do it, i dare you’ way and your lips fall shut.

Riki is unable to move past the Shadow thing. “Shadow? Like the Hedgehog?”

“No, like my cat.” You snap sarcastically, “Get on that damn bus.”

Your gaze moves to the vehicle in question, and you find the eyes of the Decelis lacrosse team trained on you and Riki. Through an open window, you hear a voice you think is Kai’s saying, “I thought her cat’s name was Gus.”

“Baby, you have to tell me now.” He laughs breathlessly, like he’s not sure whether to let it out or keep it in for your sake.

“It will never leave my mouth, and I swore him—“ Your words shift from defiant to angry as your finger shoots out to point at the tattooed man impatiently waiting at the bus’ door, “—to secrecy!”

Your words are full of betrayal as you vehemently continue with your manicured finger still pointed, “You took the Unbreakable Vow!

“You were eight.” The Coach retorts. “You used a Crayola marker. It was pink.”

You want to argue, but hold yourself back for everyone’s sake as you look back at a heavily amused Riki and say, “Get on the bus.”

“I’m not letting this go.” He warns with pure joy on his face and a laugh in his voice as he begins to slowly walk back.

You simply shake your head and cross your arms defiantly, “I’m not gonna tell you.”

He only tilts his head with ‘really?’ look, too smug for his own good, the bastard. 

Jay and Gaeul appear, her lipgloss smudged on his lips and messy on her own. Jungkook notices them with a disgusted frown and chilling glare. Jay mutters a ‘sorry Coach’ after kissing Gaeul goodbye, and she happily begins to approach your side.

Riki takes the brief moment of time to circle back and ask you quickly, “Are you free tomorrow? Or tonight?” 

You blink, mindful of Gaeul’s approach but finding his impulsivity endearing, nodding instead of saying something you’ll cringe at later.

His grin stretches wide, lighting up his face like you’ve just made his entire night. “Cool. I’ll text you,” he says casually, though there’s a spark of excitement in his voice that betrays him. Before you can respond, he jogs back toward the bus, shooting you one last look over his shoulder as he climbs the steps.

Gaeul sidles up to you, her arm sliding through yours with practiced ease, the grin on her face telling you she heard the exchange, “Ready to go?”

You’re thankful she doesn’t tease you again, nodding as the both of you begin to walk toward the visitor parking. 

With your back turned, you don’t see one of the slightly ajar windows sliding open more, or the boy that pops his head out of it until he calls out, “Hey!”

You stop mid-step, glancing back over your shoulder to find Riki leaning halfway out the window, his hair messy and damp but looking entirely too perfect for someone who just played an entire game.

You raise a brow in silent question.

“You look good in my jersey!” he calls out, his tone playful but tinged with something softer—something that makes your heart skip.

Your cheeks heat instantly, and you can’t fight the smile breaking across your face. Gaeul snorts next to you, gripping your arm like she’s about to combust.

“I know!” you shout back, doing your best to sound casual, though the warmth in your voice betrays you.

His grin widens, impossibly charming, and he shoots you a two-fingered salute before disappearing back into the bus as the vehicle begins to roll away. Gaeul finally releases her pent-up laughter, practically bouncing on her toes.

“You know?” she echoes, mimicking your response and clutching her stomach. “Girl, you’re gonna kill him one day with that play.”

You start walking toward the parking lot again, tugging her along to keep her from lingering. “I wasn’t playing anything,” you say, though the warmth in your cheeks tells a different story. “I do look good in his jersey. That’s just reality.”

“Sure, sure,” she teases, bumping her shoulder into yours. “But you could’ve just said thank you. Or blushed. Like a normal person.”

“Showing that he affects me is embarrassing.” You grumble softly, “I’ll die before I boost a man’s ego like that.”

(Though, you did cry in front of him about how much you like him, so maybe that argument isn’t valid anymore.)

She cackles at that, nearly stumbling over her own feet as you reach your car. “But, seriously, I’ve never seen him like that. He’s so…” Her voice trails off as she unlocks her own car a few spaces down, but the twinkle in her eye says enough.

“So what?” you press, opening your car door but pausing before you get in.

Gaeul grins knowingly, pointing at you with her keys. “So gone for you.”

You spend the next minute acting like the thought of him being ‘gone’ for you, as Gaeul put it, doesn’t make you want to squeal into a pillow and kick your feet, and when the two of you part ways that feeling remains.

The hour drive home feels longer with Riki on your mind, but maybe it’s the fact you aren’t sure if seeing him again tonight is the best idea. 

Something you’ve realized about yourself since meeting Riki is that you suck at impulse control. You preach self-control yet the moment he’s around you—or even mentioned—you find yourself wanting to act on every impulse the chemicals in your brain fire.

When you get home, pulling into the garage as your parents were once again out of town, you read a text Riki had sent not ten minutes prior.

A beat passes before he responds and you huff in disbelief.

The response comes in the form of a phone call. His contact photo lights up your screen, and you huff softly in amusement before pressing the answer button and bringing it to your ear as you get out of your car, “Yes?”

“Both?” His voice comes through, playful yet tinged with something warmer. You can hear the muffled chatter of his teammates in the background, he must not be home yet. “You’re really not making this easy for me, you know.”

“You asked,” you counter with a soft laugh, locking your car and slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I just gave you the answer.”

“Yeah? Which door should I be knocking on? Front or back?”

“You’re not seriously coming tonight, stupid,” you say, though the idea isn’t unappealing. You reach the door, cursing softly at how loud the garage is as it closes. Your hand wraps around the door handle.

“Why not?”

“Riki,” you start with a laugh, entering your home and flipping on the light.

“What? You said both,” he teases. You can hear the grin in his voice, and you roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Besides, Coach is gonna drop us off at the field to grab our cars anyway. It’s not like I’m going out of my way or anything.”

You hesitate, caught between the thrill of seeing him tonight and the logic of how tired he must be after the game. “Are you sure you don't wanna go to bed?”

“Not really,” he says softly, a bit more serious now, warm. “I’d rather see you.”

Your stomach flips, the sincerity in his voice knocking the wind out of you. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

“And you love it,” he shoots back, but there’s a gentleness there that makes you smile despite yourself.

“You better shower before you get here,” You say after a beat, and you swear you hear a whispered ‘yes’ before adding, “Don’t need your stench stinking up my house.”

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckles on the other end, a sound that comes through your phone beautifully. “Just don’t fall asleep before I get there.”

“Yeah, yeah, just text me when you’re on the way.” You walk toward the kitchen, dropping your purse on the counter and unzipping it to grab the eyedrops as you say, “Also, do you have a curfew?”

“Why? You tryna keep me for longer, pretty girl?” His teasing words are unfortunately true, but you refuse to admit it.

“Well, it’s already almost 10:00.” You dodge his question as you unscrew the tiny bottle in your hands, “I didn’t know if your mom would want you home sooner rather than later.”

“Nah, she’s fine with it.” He assures you, and then a beat passes and he asks, “What about yours?”

“They’re out of town, so it doesn't really matter.” You shrug, “So to answer your question, the front door is fine.”

You hear shuffling on the other end, a car door opening and closing, “So, you don’t mind if I stay a while?”

You can hear the smile in his words, and with a bite of your nail you say, “I’ll kick you out when I get sick of you.”

He laughs softly on the other end, “I’ll stay till you kick me out, then.”

You exchange a few more words before he hangs up to drive, and you have a window of time to panic(and clean up). 

After a five minute debate with yourself about taking off or keeping on your makeup, you decide the former is the better option with how late it is and your track record of falling asleep without doing so. 

(You also make a promise to yourself that if you fall asleep in front of Riki, death is the only option.)

So, when you get the text that he's arrived and you open the door with a bare face, you half-expect him to comment on it. You had FaceTimed him late enough for the boy to bear witness to your nighttime routine on multiple occasions, but he’d never shown any reaction to it.

The only reaction you get is the same boyish smile as always, the warmth behind his eyes making your heart lurch in your chest.

“Hey,” he greets softly, hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie as he steps inside. He smells like some mélange of citrus and musk, his body wash and cologne you assume, and it makes your head feel funny.

“Hey.” You respond with a light huff of amusement as you step aside for him to enter, closing the door behind him, “I see you showered.”

His damp hair covers his forehead, the same messy style he has everytime he takes off his helmet and sweat saturates each lock, yet a bit frizzy like he towel-dried it before he left.

He chuckles, head shaking lightly in amusement as he lets you lead him toward the kitchen, “I listen.”

His words are playfully defensive, the boyish smile on his face and the way he cranes his neck slightly makes you laugh, “You better.” He hums, dropping himself onto one of the barstools at the kitchen island, eyes flickering over the space as you move to grab yourself a drink. “You want anything?” 

“Whatever you have.” He shrugs, so you grab two Dr Pepper cans from the fridge and move back to the island.

Riki watches you pull two straws from the drawer in amusement, his elbows on the counter as you pop open the cans with practiced ease and an unhurried leisure. You catch his eyes with a raise of your brow that has him smirking slightly and saying, “Just watchin’.”

“I’d prefer you didn't stare.”

“Can’t help it.”

You roll your eyes at him, but put the straw in and hold the can out toward him anyway. When he takes it with that almost besotted  look in his eyes and his fingers brush yours, you find yourself turning away from him the moment it’s out of your hand, “Are you hungry?” 

Riki shakes his head, tapping his fingers against the can before taking a sip. “Nah, we stopped for food after the game.”

You nod, opening the pantry to browse and distract yourself, but it does nothing to drown out the weight of his gaze. This was a horrible idea. When you glance at him, he’s still watching you, straw between his lips, eyes holding something unreadable.

“Stop it.”

Riki obediently averts his gaze, turning in his stool until he’s no longer facing you—though he playfully overachieves, turning his back to you completely. You can’t help but poorly conceal a laugh at his actions, which prompts him to look back over his shoulder for your smile.

You act like you don’t catch the way his gaze follows you, ignoring the way it forms a knot in your gut. “C’mon, let’s sit in the living room.”

He follows without hesitation, the soft thud of his socks against the floor trailing after you. You settle into the couch, tucking your legs beneath you, and he drops down beside you like he belongs there.

He does it so easily—makes himself at home in your space, in your presence. It should annoy you. Maybe it does, but not for the reasons you wish it did.

Riki sets his drink on the coffee table, stretching an arm across the back of the couch. He doesn’t touch you, but he could. If you shifted even slightly, if he reached just a little further.

You pretend not to notice.

You scroll through the options absentmindedly, hyperaware of Riki’s presence beside you—the way his fingers drum idly against the couch cushion, the way his head tilts slightly in your direction when you stop on a show.

“This good?” You ask, your voice quieter than intended.

“Yeah,” he says softly. You get the feeling he doesn’t really care what’s on.

You settle into the silence, the soft hum of the TV filling the space between you. For a moment, it’s almost comfortable, normal. But the stillness makes your mind race, and it’s impossible not to notice how close he is. You shift slightly, your side brushing against his as you settle deeper into the cushions, and the air feels thicker somehow, heavier.

You steal a glance at him, his eyes fixed on the screen, but there’s a subtle tension in his posture that wasn’t there before. His shoulders are a little tighter, his jaw a little more set, like he’s holding something back.

Like a ray of sunshine on a rainy day, Gus appears around the corner with a sweet trill and takes the attention of both of you away from the movie(and each other).

Riki perks up immediately, his gaze shifting from the screen to the small ball of fur trotting toward the couch. “Oh, hey, buddy,” he greets softly, leaning forward slightly as Gus hops onto the cushions with practiced ease.

You watch with amusement as he settles in Riki’s lap, loafing contentedly and blinking slowly at you from his spot. Unable to bear it, you shift slightly closer to the boy beside you to reach your cat more comfortably, muttering a soft and fond, “Traitor.”

The midfielder laughs softly, ringed fingers gently scratching the tomcat on his head near your own, “He loves me.”

“He’s a lovey cat.” You retort, and though your words are true, you’ve never seen him lay in anyone’s lap this fast, much less a boy. He was never too fond of Eunseok, and doesn’t really care much for Jongseob, yet seeks out affection from Riki every time he comes over. “He likes warm laps.”

“Maybe he just has good taste.”

“Or maybe he’s a cat.” You retort, shifting again in your seat to make sure you’re not too close. He comments this time.

“Am I making you nervous?” He asks teasingly, voice low. 

“Excuse me?” You ask with a judgemental confusion on your face.

He seems undeterred, only motivated by the tone you give him, “You keep fidgeting, baby.”

“What did I say about calling me that?” You lightly smack his side, and he winces playfully.

“My bad,” he concedes, hands lifting from Gus momentarily in mock-surrender, “it won’t happen again.”

“Don’t lie.”

He chuckles, “It’ll happen again.”

A noise begins to play from the other room, and Gus immediately launches himself from Riki’s lap to run off. You laugh softly at Riki’s slight pout, the boy dramatically reaching after the feline longingly, “That was his automatic feeder.”

“Damn.” He sighs, his hands falling back to his sides on the sofa. The tip of his thumb brushes your knee accidentally, and the tension in the air shifts once more.

Both of you seem to zero in on the simple contact, accidental and barely-there yet electric in a way you’d never experienced such minute touches. The tip of his thumb turns into the pad of it, a gentle tracing of circular patterns on your knee. Then, his knuckles join, as if testing the waters.

When you glance at him he's already looking at you, his eyes dark with something unreadable, something intense that makes your stomach flip and your chest explode with warmth. Like an itch, one you know how to quell but the side of your brain dealing with critical thinking tells you it’s probably a bad idea.

His palm flattening against your knee is enough for you to disregard the advice of your logical brain and act on the only impulse your brain can fire at the moment. 

Riki’s other hand moves to your cheek when you’re close enough, long fingers tangling into the hair behind your ear as his thumb brushes your cheekbone. His head tilts to the side, nose brushing yours as he shakes it lightly. He doesn’t use the hand on your cheek to push you away or tease you further, any playfulness gone and replaced by a warmth and desire that makes your chest fill with butterflies. 

Your breaths mix, the sound of the TV drowned out by the sheer madness of him. He looks like the last thing he wants to do is pull away, like it’s a struggle to not close the short distance between your lips and his—to not cross any lines. Then, his forehead presses to yours gently and he says, “We don’t have to. I can wait.” 

His words are soft, nearly whispered, yet his deep voice makes them heavier on your gut than you’d ever admit. You find yourself speaking in a mirrored tone, “I don’t want you to wait anymore.” 

His eyes widen just slightly, and his lips part, just barely, his gaze dropping to your mouth. His thumb continues its delicate path across your cheekbone, his fingers flexing in your hair as if anchoring himself to this moment. You can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, the proximity making your heart race.

“I want you to know,” he begins, his voice a low rumble, “I’m not going anywhere. I meant what I said about waiting…I won’t rush you.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, his words a tender weight against your chest. But it doesn’t change what you’re feeling now or how close he is. How easy it would be to just close the gap and kiss him, to let all the tension and uncertainty dissolve with the space between your lips.

“I know.” You say with a slight smile.

Before you can second-guess yourself, your lips find his in a soft and brief kiss. 

Riki’s intentions seem to differ from your own as you move to pull away, the hand on your cheek sliding into your hair as his lips chase yours to pull you back in. There’s no hesitation behind it like before, his lips moving against yours with a building urgency that you can’t help but reciprocate.

You gasp softly against his mouth when the hand on your knee glides up your thigh, fingers pressing into skin and pulling you closer almost desperately. He tilts your head just enough to deepen the kiss, a low sound from his chest setting your blood aflame as you maneuver into his lap.

His hands move as your knees settle on either side of his hips, warm palms splaying over the curve of your waist and fingers digging into flesh to feel you as close as possible. It’s too much, yet somehow not enough.

Your fingers thread into his slightly damp hair, another deep sound escaping his intoxicating lips that has your stomach flipping. His breath is warm against your skin, his lips brushing yours again and again, each kiss deeper than the last. You can feel the way his heart beats beneath your palm, just as fast as yours, and it makes something tighten in your chest.

Riki tilts his head slightly, his nose brushing against your cheek as he exhales softly, his grip on your waist shifting as his hands trail up your spine. He pulls you impossibly closer, a restrained urgency in the way he holds you. He's patient—always—but there's something in the way his fingers press into your skin, in the way his lips part just enough for his breath to mix with yours, that tells you he's feeling this just as intensely as you are.

Pulling away feels like the worst idea in the world, but your lungs ache and something in the back of your mind tells you this is all too soon, too fast. The sound that the disconnect of your lips with Riki’s makes sends a thrill up your spine that the look in his eyes only exacerbates.

His forehead is warm against your own as your breaths mix and his hands slide back down to your waist. His lips ghost yours as you pant softly against him, his head tilting and his nose brushing over your cheek as his lips find the skin there, then your jaw, and your pulse point. You can feel the chastity of his kisses, the type that’s so gentle you’re not sure if you actually felt his lips on you or you just want them there enough to trick your mind into believing it.

“God, pretty girl.” He sighs, burying his nose into your neck to stop himself from kissing you more.

“Riki,” you murmur, unsure of what you want to say, only knowing that you don’t want him to move away just yet.

He hums against your skin, his breath warm, sending a shiver down your spine. “Yeah?”

You hesitate, then exhale softly. “Nothing.”

He chuckles, low and knowing, before pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are dark, but there’s something tender in the way they study you, like he’s trying to commit this moment to memory.

His thumb brushes absentmindedly over your waist, his touch light, reverent. “You good?”

You nod, though your heart is hammering in your chest. “Are you?”

He tilts his head slightly, as if considering, then grins—small and lopsided. “Yeah.”

His gaze drops to your lips again, lingering for a beat too long before he exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “I should go before I do something stupid.”

The admission has your stomach flipping once more, but you find yourself huffing softly in amusement, “Yeah, you should.”

The moment your hands move to his shoulders and you attempt to dismount his lap, his arms wrap around your waist and his nose returns to its home buried in your neck, “Mmm, in a minute.” 

A laugh escapes you, breathy and light, as your fingers absentmindedly trace the line of his shoulder blades. “You just said you should go.”

“I should,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your skin. “Doesn’t mean I want to.”

You hum softly, deciding against teasing him and instead settling into the security of his embrace. You feel him smile against your skin, slowly pulling his face from the junction between your neck and shoulder.

Then, his hands move, one sliding up your spine while the other lifts to cup your jaw, and he kisses your cheek. Soft. Chaste.

“Okay,” he murmurs, still so close. “Now I’ll go.”

You don’t stop him this time when he loosens his hold, when he gently shifts you off his lap. You don’t say anything as he stands, raking a hand through his already-messy hair(courtesy of your hands, of course), or when he stretches and his hoodie rides up. When he looks down at you, you almost shrink under his gaze before he smiles that warm way you love and he leans forward to grab your hand in his.

You let his fingers slide between your own, your eyes on him as he tugs you gently and prompts you to get off the couch to step closer to him with a soft huff of amusement, “I thought you were going?”

His hand in yours slips out in favor of joining the other on either side of your jaw, thumbs gently brushing your cheeks fondly as he mirthfully smirks down at you. You have no choice but to tilt your head back to look at him at this proximity, and he doesn’t seem all that eager to widen it.

“I am.” His muttered confirmation is contradicted by the way his lips find yours again, soft yet eager, no longer hesitant to join them as often as he’d like with your prior statement. When he pulls away and you chase his kiss, he hums with amusement in his grin, nose nudging yours. “How am I supposed to leave if you keep making me want to kiss you, huh?”

“I didn’t even do anything.” You defend yourself with a soft laugh.

“Mm, you don’t have to.” He groans softly, eyes shutting as he presses his forehead to yours and sighs, “You’re mine now, right?”

The bluntness of his question has your heart skipping but you hum as if apprehensive, “Maybe. You didn’t ask.”

His eyes open and he looks at you with playful disbelief and a whole lot of amusement, “You want me to ask you out, pretty girl?”

“I never said that,” You retort reflexively, ignoring the way his eyebrows quirk up in challenge and entertainment, “But I might be yours if you ask nicely.”

“Nicely. Right….” He nods in mock understanding, and when he leans in to kiss you again, you meet him halfway. “Will you…” He starts with his voice soft and deep in all the best ways as he pulls away between kisses to continue, “be…my girl?”

He pulls away just enough to see your face as you recover from the dizzying way his lips find yours, and your words are softer than you intended as you breathlessly reply, “I’ll have to think about it.”

His shoulders shake with soft laughter as he shakes his head and mutters, “shut up,” under his breath before he closes the distance once more.

𝒇𝒊𝒏.

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.

[vxlentinescookies]

Ajax listen,,,,listen to me Ajax-

Self Aware AU, where the cookies come to the player's/reader's world. Pick whichever characters you wanna include, I just need to see this 🙏

→ ❛Part of your world❜

→ Characters ; Longan Dragon Cookie, Burning Spice Cookie, Shadow Milk Cookie, Timekeeper Cookie & Millennial Tree Cookie → Quote ; ❛❛If someone came to you and told you “One day you’ll have those who you love the most in the palm of your hand”, well… you never thought that’d become true, nor that it’d be a metaphor…❜❜ → Genre ; Headcanons/Drabble → A/N ; This took me a whole ass night to make and 2500+ words to finish, I hope you like it /lh

Longan Dragon Cookie

“How quaint… to believe someone like you lives in such a… small place”

Having Longan Dragon in your home was… curious to say the least. Not something you expected, yet here you were, with a dragon looking at you as they squatted in your bedroom.

Longan would be hypercritical of the place you lived, noting things like “This looks cheap” or “Its far too small”

Despite that, Longan would be quite intrigued in your life, wanting to see how you worked or what you did, they’d follow you around when not sitting in your living room and meditating.

Nevertheless, they’re there for a reason, they’re with you for a reason, and they’ll make that reason known very, very soon.

It’d take Longan a few months, but eventually, they would come to sit by your side at the table, not sitting down on a chair but instead, sitting down by your side quite literally. They’d stare at you for long moments before finally leaning their head on your shoulder, the weight catching you off guard as you looked at them. 

“... I’ll make sure you live like you deserve one of these days” They’d say, and in that moment, you understood why there had been so many disappearances of delinquents and robbers nearby…

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

One of the few favorite activities of Longan was to read, so much so, that you had to request books from the library more often than not, but with the way Longan was reading them… It had just been a few months, and yet this dragon had consumed almost all of your local library’s books.  So, when they finished reading most of your books, they’d chose to write them. And they’d write about what they saw, about everything they had seen around them, everything they had seen in this new world, and in some sense, it was intriguing to see how a dragon explored the new world they were in, the little things that werent intriguing to you were greatly important to them, in a way that got you even more intrigued by how they saw you.

“... You want to know how I see you?” They’d ask.

You knew fully well that you shouldnt expect much, after all, this was Longan Dragon we were talking about, they werent a kind dragon, they saw cookies as lesser beings, and humans now by extensions, but as you asked them that question, they’d only smile and pat your head softly.

“You’re the reason Im here… Of course I would think highly of you”

A genuine smile, it made your heart flutter as they spoke, a hand going to cup your chin in it.

“You’re interesting, perhaps, one of the most interesting things I’ve seen in this world.”

Besides writing, they’d follow you around and take note of everything you’d do… And by night, they’d curl by your side, taking most of the bed as they allow you to take rest in their chest, as they allow you to take rest in their breaths while their hands thread on your hair.

Burning Spice Cookie

“How intriguing…! Never would I have expected your home to be so… so… erm…”

Another one who seems to heavily judge your house, but also, another one who appears in your home kneeling because it is so small compared to him.

Either way, he gets eased into the ambient quite easily, his search for entertainment leading him to see through everything and all the world has to offer.

Until he… gets bored, again, because your world isnt as different from his (and in some sense, it is… actually… more boring than his old world…)

So, he moves to the next thing closest to him for entertainment!

“Little one, come here” 

He’d call forward to you once, looking at you with dark yet fiery eyes and an everlasting smile, though you knew this once it hid something, after all, despite him coming to your world for x or y reason, it involved you, it always involved you…

“Entertain me” Would be his words once you approached him, his smile becoming only more cryptic as you lifted an eyebrow at his voice. Entertain, him? In what sense or way would you be able to entertain someone akin to a god? 

Seeming to sense your doubt, Burning Spice would only come and hold you from your shirt, lifting you up before staring at you and then…

“Hahahah, you should’ve looked at your face, you really are an interesting one!”

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

Besides seeking something for entertainment, Burning spice is in some sense able to somewhat pass through the crowd, and by that I mean he can somewhat pass as just a very tall human. Nonetheless, between choosing to hit the gym and sending you pictures, he’ll also follow you around, finding even the most monotonous tasks fairly entertaining if it has you in it. Its a weird combo, being outside with a dude in a hoodie and sweat pants following you around while doing groceries, or being in the metro and getting a fairly nice picture of him flexing for you. Burning spice is a menace…

“Aye, welcome home! I took care of some pesky people while you were gone… It was fun hearing their screams…”

…in far more ways than one.

Either way, you two also share a bed, its not like you have a choice with how clingy he can become when sleeping, pulling you in his arms in a heated hug (in the sense that he literally irradiates heat) while snoring loudly, you’ve gotten complaints from neighbors (if you live in an apartment), but somehow… they’ve… they’ve quieted down recently… However, when you ask Burning Spice, he just laughs it off.

Shadow Milk Cookie

“Woowee, what do we have here, sweetheart?”

Not as judgemental of your home, no, for once someone isnt as focused on where you live but…

He is focused on you, looking at you up and down, before hitting his head on the roof of your room, ouch!

He spends most of the days following you around though, using his magic to stay hidden from most people, so much that people may find you crazy for seeing you talk to… nothing!

Either way, much like the others, he’s there for a reason…

“Why Im here?”

You asked Shadow Milk once, after a good few months, what the jester had come to do in your own home. In fact, it perplexed you so much that when you asked him, the feeling seemed to be shared. It was… intriguing to say the least, but he’d only smile before clasping his hands together and saying in a song-esque tune.

“Becuase you’re sooooooooooo interesting, darlin! Just look at you, how could I NOT come here with you?”

Truth to be told, he saw you as who you really were, in some sense he saw you as someone who didnt fall for lies easily, he saw you as someone who saw beyond that and you were… interesting. You were a shot in the dark, and he just had, to have you near.

“You’re so silly, darlin, sososososo silly” He’d add in, patting your head softly as you only smiled and blushed slightly, even while knowing his smile and gaze hid a million of thoughts, and a million of even more ideas.

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not reading around in your home, or following you to the library to read some books, he’d be looking over your shoulder, reading every single note, watching every single thing you do, it makes him curious, how someone so quaint has him wrapped around your finger. And yet, he cant help but smile at the idea of being just like that, wrapped around your finger in a sweet loving embrace.

He’d be the most romantic of the bunch, the one that makes it the most prominent that he’s there with you because he likes you, he dosent even hide it fully despite his jester-esque persona, he just cant hide it! So, when you ask him about what he was doing one day in the balcony of your apartment, he’d only turn and smile softly.

“Why, I'm recreating one of your world’s theatre plays!” He’d say, and you make a mental note to go to the theatre more often… “And you’ve come just in time, silly (y/n)! I need someone to play dearest Juliet!”

You add that it is a tragic love story, and he only brushes it off, adding in that “actors are actors, sweetheart, now come in and act!” so you do, and you have a fun time doing a monologue to a bunch of people who stay and watch, before claps fill the air.

And when time comes to bed, he’ll be the first to curl up in your bed, curl like a cat who welcomes you into his arms so sweetly, you feel the scent of milk, lactonic as it is, and for once you feel safe.

Timekeeper Cookie

“Well, look what we have here!”

To find Timekeeper in your home means to have done something either right or wrong. In your case, its right.

They’re very much curious about everything from the things you do on a daily basis to your home and how electronics work.

Still, and much like some others in this list, they become quickly bored about it, choosing to focus on you as main form of entertainment

Still, you can expect certain shenanigans to ensue.

It was late at night when it happened, just as you were playing when a portal opened and dragged you inside of it. You were scared shitless that much is true but, when you saw the person who dragged you in, you simply could sigh in slight annoyance.

“What? Cant I drag my favorite person in for some fun?” They’d say with that ever present smile, Timekeeper chuckling as she smiled widely at you, before noticing… “Oh, right, it is night where you’re from, guess I took you out at the wrong time!”

You huffed and yawned, before sitting up and looking at your phone… Right, it didnt exactly work when in time rifts, but then again that raised the question, why did they bring you here to begin with? As if being presented with the question loud and clear, they’d clear her throat and speak yet again.

“I simply wanted to see you, nothing wrong with that now?” They’d say quite mischievously, picking you up and bringing you into her lap “Go on, lets- Hm?”

You’d fall asleep into her arms as soon as she picked you up, your calm quiet face being shown to her as you were held in her arms. Well, guess fun had to wait.

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

Much like the others, they also enjoy reading, however, they focus on reading about engineering and mechanics, more so about the mechanics of your world to see if they’re any different from the ones of her world. To say there isnt much difference is but an understatement, there was a hefty amount of difference counting the technology from the TBD was far more advanced, but, even then, you’d be able to get the timekeeper intrigued by the nature of your world.

“Tell me more about your world, c’mon!” They’d ask one day, floating from a time rift as you cooked dinner. 

Unlike the others Timekeeper wasnt keen on staying in one place, still finding comfort in being inside time rifts most of the time, though they still visited you more often than not, more often than other places. Seeing them you’d ask her what she wanted to know, to which she’d hum before saying.

“Anything, I dont really find it entertaining seeing it myself—Explain your world to me yourself, doll!”

So when night comes after a long day chatting, it is you who clings to her softly, as she watches you sleep cozily by her side. She smiles and pats your head, because as much as she’d prefer to fade into a time rift, she knows she cant let you go so easily, no. Not when you finally showed her happiness.

“Interesting, this place is… quite interesting…”

Seeing someone as tall as Millennial Tree in your home is but a piece of the whole puzzle. You are dumbfounded but in some sense, seeing them kneel to greet you is almost laughable.

He’s big, very tall and a gentle giant overall, and it shows when he holds your hand and tells you that your world is interesting to him.

He’s just as curious as everyone else, looking at everything, looking at everyone, he’s curious about you, curious about your world, yet he knows it’d be dangerous to leave on his own.

So, you take him to the forest, planing on leaving him go but…

“I dont want to leave you alone…”

He’d speak with conviction, looking at you as your eyes widened and your face dropped. Just what you feared would happen. He’d hold your hands together, looking at you with some concern before smiling softly, kissing both of your palms.

“I came here for a reason, that much I know, and I know that reason is within you… Allow me to stay by your side, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it worth it.”

You have no power in you to say no, to turn down his offer after his gentle and sweet words, that day you realized that perhaps he did come to your world for a reason, a world so clad in evil and pain…

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not travelling nor reading, he’s at home with you, cooking or revisiting each place he has gone to to help. He’s become… a sort of Messiah, you cant help it, become public enemy no.1 to some, and a savior to others, it truly depended on who you were asking. Your gaze would follow his as he trailed on a book you both were reading before he’d lean and kiss your forehead, things were… easy, happy with him there… You felt much happier.

“Is something the matter, sapling?” He’d ask, his gentleness carrying over to his voice as he hummed at your words saying it was nothing, but he knew better, still, he wouldnt push. “Are you perhaps tired?”

You pouted slightly before nodding, yes, you were quite tired, but you didnt want to admit to it. Still, he’d nod before moving the book to the side and lifting you into his arms. He’d carry you to your shared bedroom, careful on his way there before setting you on the bed with him, cozily, softly, carrying you to him as he pressed his lips on your forehead and your body to his.

“Sleep well, sunshine” He’d say, brushing hairs off your face before speaking again “Thank you for accepting me into your world…”

Honestly, how could you not at this point? With that thought in your head… You fell asleep.

[pedroscowgirl]

maybe i’m a bit desilusional but…

what abt fem, young!reader taking care of hugh jackman’s kids? and he being so stunned at how caring she is he just wants to bread her and fucks her in a rude way??

if u dont like this, just ignore it complately ♡

hugh jackman x fem!reader

warnings: smut! minors DNI breeding kink, creampie, p in v, age gap (reader is 20 ish and hugh is 55) wc: 3,4k

a/n: ugh yes i love daddy hugh and i'm sure he loves being a dad aswell and he just can't wait to make u a mother. (and yes im aware his kids are older now but lets just ignore that for this story) i hope u like this tho!

You had never expected babysitting to become such an integral part of your life, but when the opportunity arose to look after Hugh Jackman's children, you couldn’t turn it down. What started as a part-time gig quickly became something much more meaningful. His kids, with their curious eyes and endless energy, pulled you into their world with ease. You were young, fresh out of college, and ready to tackle whatever life threw your way, but you hadn’t anticipated how attached you’d grow to this family.

Today was one of those quiet afternoons where the house felt like a peaceful bubble. Hugh had been out filming all day, and you were in the living room with his youngest, a mess of paints and construction paper scattered on the floor. You were helping them create a hand-painted masterpiece, your fingers gently guiding theirs as they carefully brushed color onto the page.

“You’re doing so well!” you encourage, a soft laugh escaping your lips as the child beams up at you, proud of their work.

Unbeknownst to you, Hugh had arrived home. He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching in silence. The sight of you, so gentle, so patient, made something stir inside him. His children were the most important part of his life, and to see them so comfortable and happy in your presence was nothing short of remarkable. It was more than that, though. It was the way you smiled, the way you listened when they talked, as if every word they said mattered.

You hadn’t noticed Hugh yet, too focused on the child in front of you. The sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow across the room. The image was almost too perfect, and for a second, Hugh felt like an outsider looking in on something beautiful, something he hadn't realized he wanted.

Finally, you glanced up and caught his eye. You flashed him that warm, inviting smile, completely unaware of the effect it had on him.

“Hey, Hugh,” you greeted casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to see him standing there. “We’re making some masterpieces here. You want to join?”

He chuckled, his voice slightly deeper, though there was an unfamiliar warmth in his eyes. “I think I’ll leave the artistic side to you two. You’re really good with them.”

You shrugged, still smiling as you turned your attention back to the child beside you. “They make it easy,” you said, your voice soft but genuine.

But to Hugh, it was clear that wasn’t true. There was something special about the way you connected with his kids, and it went beyond just being "good" with them. You seemed to understand them in a way that made him feel like he was seeing his own family through new eyes.

As the evening unfolded, the kids eventually grew tired, their energy winding down after hours of play. You took your time, making sure they were comfortable, tucked into bed with their favorite stuffed animals by their side. Hugh watched from the doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned against the frame, an unreadable expression on his face. There was something undeniably attractive about the way you cared for them, how natural and effortless it seemed.

When you finally closed the door to the kids’ room, you turned and found him standing there, still watching you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You weren’t sure why, but the air felt different. Charged.

“They’re out like lights,” you whispered with a soft laugh, breaking the silence, but Hugh didn’t respond immediately. He was looking at you in a way that made you feel suddenly self-conscious, but not uncomfortable. It was a quiet admiration, almost as if he were seeing you for the first time.

“You’re incredible with them,” he said after a beat, his voice low. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this happy. It’s like… you’re part of the family already.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you smiled, a little unsure of how to respond. “I’ve really grown attached to them,” you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “They’re great kids.”

Hugh nodded, stepping a little closer. You could feel the weight of his gaze, his presence somehow more intense than it had ever been before. “I’ve noticed,” he said, his tone shifting to something more personal, more intimate. “You’re amazing with them, but… I’ve also noticed how kind and caring you are. It’s not just them you look after.”

You blinked, a little caught off guard by the compliment. “I just want to help,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his. There was something different in the way he looked at you now. Something deeper.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The house was quiet, save for the faint rustle of the wind outside. You were suddenly acutely aware of how close he was standing. His gaze softened, but there was a certain weight to it, like he was wrestling with something unspoken.

“Hugh?” you asked softly, feeling the tension in the air shift.

He seemed to snap out of whatever thought had held him captive, and he smiled, genuine, but with an edge of something more. “I’m just… grateful. For everything you’ve done. For being here.”

His words were laced with something deeper than gratitude, though. There was a sincerity that tugged at your heart, something that hinted at emotions he wasn’t sure how to express. You felt it too,this connection, the way he seemed to see you differently now.

“I love being here,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.

He took another step forward, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His eyes never left yours, searching, wondering. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared, leaving just the two of you standing there in the quiet of the house.

“I think I’ve been blind to something,” Hugh finally admitted, his voice low and a little rough, like he was struggling to put his feelings into words. “You’ve become more than just someone who helps out around here. You’ve become… important.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, and the intensity in his gaze made your heart race. “Hugh, I—”

But before you could finish, he stepped even closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was soft, almost hesitant, but the tenderness in that small gesture sent shivers down your spine.

“I didn’t expect to feel this way,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper now. “But I can’t ignore it anymore.”

You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know,he felt it too, this connection that had grown between you. It was more than just admiration for how you cared for his children. It was something deeper, something neither of you could deny anymore.

Hugh’s hand trembled slightly as it reached for your face, his fingers brushing against your skin with a softness that contrasted the fire in his eyes. His thumb traced the line of your jaw, lingering just below your ear as if savoring the sensation of touching you. Your breath hitched in your throat, heart hammering in your chest, and in that split second, you could see everything he was feeling—years of restraint and unspoken emotions flooding to the surface.

Before you could process it, he surged forward, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. His lips crashed into yours with a hunger that left you breathless, the kiss urgent and all-consuming. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing—just pure, raw need. His hands tightened their hold on your face, thumbs gently stroking your cheeks as his mouth moved against yours, desperately seeking more.

You melted into him, your hands sliding up to grip his shirt as if anchoring yourself to the moment. His kiss was intense, filled with a yearning that had been simmering just beneath the surface for far too long. He tasted of warmth, of something familiar yet electrifying, and every brush of his lips sent waves of heat coursing through your body.

Hugh let out a low, primal sound from deep within his chest, a sound that only made the fire between you burn hotter. In one swift movement, his hands slid down to your waist, and without breaking the kiss, he lifted you off the ground as if you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your arms looping around his neck for support, and you could feel the strength of him beneath your fingertips—solid, unyielding, desperate.

With practiced ease, he carried you to the kitchen counter, the cold surface a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from both of your bodies. He set you down, his lips never leaving yours, his mouth moving with a hunger that made your head spin. His hands roamed your back, fingers gripping your hips, pulling you closer, as if the space between you was unbearable.

You were both lost in the moment, a whirlwind of passion and need. Clothing became an afterthought, your hands fumbling with buttons and zippers as you tried to remove the barriers that kept you from feeling every inch of him. His shirt was the first to go, discarded hastily onto the floor, followed by yours as he tore it from your body in a frenzied rush.

Hugh’s lips found yours again, more fevered now, as if he were a starving man and you were the only thing that could sate him. His kiss was desperate, full of longing, and his hands followed suit, exploring your body with a reverence that made your skin tingle. He was everywhere—his mouth on your neck, your collarbone, tasting the warmth of your skin as if memorizing every inch of you.

You gasped as his lips trailed lower, the sensation of his breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. He kissed the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his teeth grazing lightly as you arched into him. His hands fumbled with the button of your jeans, and in a hurried, clumsy motion, he pulled them down your legs. You helped him along, your body trembling with anticipation, until you were both stripped down to nothing, the cool air doing nothing to quench the heat between you.

His body pressed against yours, skin on skin, the sensation overwhelming as his hands explored every curve, every dip. His touch was insistent, possessive, but there was a tenderness beneath the intensity that made your heart flutter. Hugh pulled you impossibly closer, his lips returning to yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth with a slow, deliberate sweep that left you breathless.

He kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed to taste every inch of your mouth, his hands gripping your waist as if afraid you might disappear. You moaned into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer still. The need between you was palpable, an electric charge that sparked with every touch, every kiss.

Hugh pulled back for a brief moment, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes, dark and full of desire, locked onto yours, searching for something—confirmation, permission, anything to let him know you wanted this just as much as he did.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice hoarse, almost ragged from restraint.

You nodded, your lips swollen and tingling from his kisses. “Yes,” you breathed, and that was all he needed to hear.

With a low growl, he captured your lips again, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you flush against him. The kiss deepened, more desperate now, filled with the weight of all the emotions you both had kept hidden for so long. He kissed you like he was starving, like the feel of you was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

His hands slid up your back, fingers tracing every curve, and then he was lifting you again, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. His body pressed against yours, every inch of him firm and warm as he kissed you with a hunger that made your toes curl.

The air around you felt electric, charged with a desire neither of you could control. His mouth moved against yours with the same urgency that echoed through your veins, each kiss leaving you gasping for more. Hugh was relentless, his lips, his hands, his body, all of him, devouring you, like he had waited an eternity to finally taste you.

Hugh’s eyes darkened with desire as he lined himself up with your entrance, his breath coming out in short, ragged bursts. His hands gripped your hips firmly as he pushed into you with ease, your slick warmth welcoming him effortlessly. The deep, guttural groan that escaped his throat filled the air, sending shivers down your spine.

“Fuck…” His voice was low and husky, filled with raw need. “This is all for me?” he asked, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of admiration and lust.

You nodded, a soft hum of pleasure escaping your lips as your body adjusted to the sensation of him inside you. The fullness, the heat, it was overwhelming in the best possible way. Hugh’s gaze never wavered, his pupils blown wide as he watched your reaction, revelling in the way you responded to him.

“Such a naughty girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he began to move, his thrusts slow but deliberate, like he was savoring every moment. Each roll of his hips sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your head falling back slightly as you let yourself melt into the feeling.

His breath was hot against your neck, and then his voice, low, dangerous sent a thrill straight to your core. “I’m gonna breed this fucking pussy so bad.”

The words were filthy, but the way he said them, the pure desire laced into every syllable, made your stomach flip with arousal. Your walls tightened instinctively around him, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the thought of it, of him filling you up, marking you as his.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked, his voice rough and demanding.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus through the haze of pleasure that clouded your mind. “Uh-huh,” you managed to say, your breath hitching as he rocked deeper into you, “but I… I keep forgetting to take it. It probably doesn’t work anymore.”

“Good,” he growled, his voice dripping with satisfaction. The single word was laced with approval, his hips moving faster now, each thrust more insistent than the last. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with the heavy breaths and soft moans that escaped you both.

Hugh was relentless, his movements precise and unyielding. He could feel the way your body was responding to him, the way your walls clenched tighter with each thrust, your breath coming faster, your moans growing louder. You were close, so close, and he knew it. He could feel it in the way your body trembled, in the way you gripped onto the counter behind you for support.

But just as the pleasure began to crest, just as you were teetering on the edge, he stopped abruptly. The sudden emptiness made you whine, your body crying out for release.

“Sorry, babygirl,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I need to fuck you from behind.”

Before you could respond, he lifted you off the counter with ease, turning you around so your back was facing him. His strong hands guided you, pressing your chest down onto the cold surface of the counter, your legs spread wide and trembling with anticipation.

Without warning, he entered you again, burying himself to the hilt in one swift, powerful thrust and slapped your ass. You gasped, your body arching back instinctively at the sudden intrusion. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he began to move with an intensity that left you breathless. Each thrust was deep, hard, and unrelenting, his body slamming into yours with a force that made you see stars.

Hugh’s grip tightened as he pulled you back onto him, his pace quickening as he lost himself in the pleasure. “Fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick and desperate. “You’d be such a great mom… I can’t wait to see you pregnant, to watch your tits swell with my baby. You're such a slut for me”

His words sent a shock of arousal through you, your mind reeling at the thought of it. The idea of being filled by him, of carrying his child, was driving you crazy, and your body responded in kind, your walls tightening around him, milking him for everything he had.

“And the nasty looks on everyone’s faces,” he continued, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper, “when they see us walking around together, hand in hand. Such a young thing getting fucked by an old man like me. You like that huh?"

The filthy words, the possessiveness in his voice, it was too much. Your body trembled beneath him, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter as you neared the edge once again. He could feel it, too, the way your walls clenched around him, the way your breath hitched in your throat.

“Yes… good girl,” he growled, his hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair. “Turn your head for me.”

You did as he commanded, turning your head just enough for his lips to crash into yours. The kiss was messy, desperate, your tongues tangling together as you both chased the release that was so close, so inevitable. His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he lost control, the pleasure too overwhelming to hold back any longer.

You moaned into his mouth as your body finally gave in, your walls clenching around him in a violent wave of pleasure. Your legs shook, your body trembling as your orgasm washed over you, and Hugh followed close behind, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside you with a guttural groan.

The kiss muffled both of your moans as you came undone together, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless. When he finally pulled away, you were spent, your body trembling, your legs barely able to hold you up. His hands were still on your hips, holding you steady as he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

But before you could fully catch your breath, Hugh stepped back, his eyes darkening once again as he watched his cum begin to drip out of you, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“Fuck, I can’t let that go to waste,” he muttered.

Without warning, he slid two fingers inside you, pushing his cum back in with a slow, deliberate motion. You gasped at the sensation, your overstimulated body trembling beneath his touch. His fingers moved with precision, curling inside you as he held your hips in place, ensuring that every drop stayed where it belonged.

Satisfied, he quickly reached for your panties, pulling them back up over your hips to keep his seed inside you. The feeling of the fabric pressing against your sensitive skin sent a shiver down your spine, the intimacy of the gesture making your heart race.

“There we go, babygirl,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. “Gotta keep it all in, just in case.”

You nodded, too breathless to speak, your body still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened. Hugh’s arms tightened around you, pulling you close as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the back of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s warmth.. Your legs were still shaking, your body still buzzing with the aftershocks of pleasure.

“I meant what I said,” Hugh murmured against your skin, his voice low and serious. “I can’t wait to see you pregnant.”

His words made your heart skip a beat, the weight of them settling in your chest as you turned your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty in his gaze—just pure, unfiltered desire.

And in that moment, you knew he meant every word.

taglist (dm if u wanna be added): @ermlady @elloredef @haytchee @melaninjoys @megangovier @blue2jay @hearts4suri @narniabusinessbitch @jadenlyday25 @getmeoutofhell @rockytheluver @stark-ironman @shellbilee @kurcoswife @ru-kru @corvusmorte

[deerspherestudios]

Okay my curiosity is killing me, I saw that you said when Atom makes something it is no longer apart of him so he can’t just become anything…. But at the same time I’m so curious what would happen if he attempted to make like a human form?? Like would it end up as an entity entirely separate from him, fail as a whole, or would almost be like two atom’s to deal with? (That would probably get jealous of each other LOL)

He can make our favorite creature so theoretically he could make a person but like, if he doesn’t fully understand the behavioral characteristics of a creature, can he really make it?

IM SO SORRY I HOPE I DID THIS RIGHT I REALLY TRIED TO LOOK THROUGH EVERYTHING 🙏🏻 I love your games so so much! thank you so much for what you’ve created. Your work has genuinely changed my life for the better. 🩷

Aaa thank you for the sweet message and support! I was gonna explain it in this ask how Atom's transmutation ability works when it comes to creating living beings but the explanation was already so long I cut it out. I'm glad I get to explain it here!

To start, I always intended Atom to feel a bit eldritch-y, so this is probably the part where that aspect applies. Below is a clumsy explanation so bear with me, but to jump straight into it, this was what I had in mind:

So I've established they can make anything as long as they're familiar with it. If you're wondering how it learns, it's kinda hinted in-game when Atom mentions learning recipes from Kiara the cook after it dissolved her. I wouldn't know how to explain how that happens but chalk it up to being an alien lifeform! Also!! Think Warm Bodies I guess!!

Is it akin to a god if it's able to create life? Uhhh, shrug! I'm just having fun with them so just brush past this detail haha.

Anyways, the point is they can make stuff! This can be living and non-living things, but the caveat is anything 'living' kinda acts,,, off? The creature will look like it's alive but it feels like terribly programmed AI if you observe them long enough, with things like:

forgetting to breathe or blink

doesn't eat, doesn't drink, doesn't excrete anything

making the wrong noise

doesn't move like it's supposed to

flopping 'dead' for a few seconds before 'rebooting'

will dissolve into the rest of the worms when you're not looking (thus becoming a part of Atom again)

Extremely uncanny, extremely uncomfortable to watch. But if you ask Atom to shapeshift into something else, it'd still be a bunch of worms making up that shape.

For the sake of clarity, let's say you want a cat, that cat is gonna be it's own cat, however strange it might act.

If you want an Atom-shaped cat,, it's gonna look like worms.

I'll just use this doodle and hope it gets the idea across because I'm having difficulty explaining it but I hope it makes sense!

Edit: Actually now that I think about it, it's similar to this scenario from one of sanfangzhu's fancomics titled Reshape! Though,,, canonically the end result isn't gonna be that graceful hahaha.

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

ONYX STORM ⚡️⚡️⚡️

My thoughts below the cut! Spoilers galore. This is all from my first read through, so we’ll see what changes by the time I finish my second read. I’m still pretty jumbled up about the book (I am physically incapable of opening up goodreads and giving it a rating) and, frankly, I think my notes are going to reflect this! Also, this is thoughts for the WHOLE BOOK, so please don’t open the full post if you’re not done with the WHOLE BOOK.

I’m pasting my notes directly from the doc I took them on while reading , and adding extra post-read commentary when I feel the urge! Also this is your warning that I swear quite a bit in these! For they are candid.

ch1-10:

- i will say i thought the ch 2 epigraph was an inntinnsic clue but now im not so sure bc it’s not that rare it’s just that they kill everyone who has it ??? (commentary from future helena: this is about lilith…right?)

- tell me something, violence. why is it always you? 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

- what IS a soul. how can you take a soul apart piecemeal. why do you think he gave up part of his soul. who told you that. (CFFH: i stand by this. none of this makes any sense to me.)

- hmmmm no red post fingering! curious…very curious (CFFH: i still don’t know about this one dawg)

- the kiss beneath her ear after he helps her get dressed somebody sedate me

- god DOES garrick like imogen because mans does NOT act like it poor im (CFFH: I seriously cannot stop wondering when the hell Rebecca decided to make immrick canon because i LIKE the ship, but on my fw and if re reads it does not read like Garrick likes her, and I would say that holds true till the very end of the damn book)

- VIOLETTTTTTTT I LOVE HER she’s so fucking back (CFFH: violets characterization was my favorite thing about this book. i was really scared about xaden leaving because frankly rebecca writes violet best with him, but she held her own so much better than she has in the other two books. i always love her, but she was incredible here.)

- the bits about vi being a good duchess i Knew that was him saying he wanted to marry her (CFFH: this is an example of what i like to call RY’s “gotcha ass foreshadowing”)

- also i have always characterized fen in my head as loving the movement more than xaden i know what’s up

- i’m soooo excited about him being the duke this is so embarassing im pumping my fists

- did NOT see the samara field trip coming what the fuck

- EVEN HUNDREDS OF MILES AWAY HES STILL TSKING CARE OF EMD EKDNRNRNRN (CFFH: yeah.)

- hey guys what the fuck was that dream? did RY see the cat/violet shippers and get ideas

- WHAT THE FUCK. i saw NONE of this coming

- GARRICKS A WIND WIELDER ???? (CFFH: obviously did not age super well…however garrick was acting so sus here and his dialogue felt so off that i genuinely thought he was the traitor for a fat minute)

11-20

- WHETS RNRJRNRNRNRNRNRJEKEKKRRN

- IS THIS THE MARKED ONES SECOND SIGNET TNEORY (CFFH: can you tell i was a big fan of the marked ones second signet theory. also what’s xadens third signet then? also i feel like if EVERYONE has 2 vi will have 3! i have a theory explaining it below somewhere)

- WLSO DID XADEN FHCKINF KNOW (CFFH: they actually handled this really well i was so nervous they’d have the fight again)

- dude im like short circuiting sick to my stomach HES SOOOOOOO BOYFRIEND ? (CFFH: what on EARTH was this about?)

- well the fuck aware!!!!!!!!!

- i can’t breathe

- i need my inhaler

- LIAM WIELDINF ICE (CFFH: again, can you tell i was a big fan of the marked ones second signet theory? fun fact, i actually wanted to write it into ITHOIA but then i realized a. how much work it would be to concoct that many signets and b. i’d have to give xaden THREE, and decided to pick my battles. however i did brainstorm what signets had xaden energy for giving him a third one and immmmmm immmm having ideasssssss)

- YOURS X

- why do i agree with JFBs venin logic man

- god halden is her traumatic ex relationship goddddd (CFFH: i edited out most of my complaining, but i was super against the halden idea (per my predictions). this might get me cancelled, but it did feel fan service-y? to me? which is fine! fans deserve to be serviced! there are moments of this book in which i am the fan being serviced! but when it become clear RY was going in the halden direction, i was super stressed about how she’d handle it, and im thrilled she made him toxic. THRILLED.)

- SECOND KROVLAN UPRISING

- knowing miss yarros and her gotcha ass foreshadowing ridoc is going on that quest lmdao

- PRFOEOEKEENDJEJEN PROFESSOR RIORSON PROFESSOR RIOROSN (CFFH: not only do i stand by this, but i actually wanted to write teacher roleplay for kinktober and i didn’t bc i didn’t think the fandom would take a liking to it, but CLEARLY rebecca didn’t have those concerns)

- i am going to commit crimes against humanity your relationship did not just END SJEJEJEJENR R (CFFH: i’ve noticed miss yarros has begun to really lean on chapter cliffhangers, and frankly, it pisses me off. i understand she needs to get her bag with kindle unlimited and all, but it makes for a stressful reading experience imo. however, this one got me. this one got me SO bad i had to take a walk to calm down. i have been looking forward to professor riorson for MONTHS and i was convinced it was crashing and burning before my eyes. maybe this is why i shouldn’t read past 1 am. i know rebecca has given interviews and has said she needs there to be constant tension in their relationship or else there’s no story, and while i know what she means, THIS tension felt so manufactured to me. i also think she could pull off a war story with them just like …together. i believe in her. the story needs tension, but it doesn’t need to be between them like this, imho.)

- we live by the codex/i live by you 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫I AM YOURS AND YOU ARE MINE AND THERE’S NO LAW OR RULE IN THIS WORLD OR THE NEXT THAT CAN CHANGE THAT

- you know what we might get shadow sex in this book. we might. (CFFH: we do! and i think we can get more with asim!xaden)

- fun fact about me it took till my THIRD RE READ to see that xaden controls the shadows with his hands.

- there’s been like 3 indirect marriage references if my fucking empire of storms prediction was correct im going to scream (CFFH: so i actually didn’t get to scream because i was too busy MOURNING the lack of a RIORGAIL WEDDING.)

- PAPA SORRENGAIL HAS NAME AND ITS ASHER ?????

- ridocs blow job joke was funny i cackled

- papa sorrengail (im going to deadname him) i do love you man

- SHADOW HANDCUFFS OH MY GOS i had a seizure in my reading hammock

- he is my choice. that got me. that felt good.

- DRAAAAAAAAKE (CFFH: i may say this later, but alli (no tag bc she’s not done reading yet) made drake so sexy to me (and amy! also no tag) and i was kind of disappointed lmfao)

- vi rlly out here playing cousins or dating

21-30

- i loooooove him calling her love all the time

- it’s so crazy to me that he’s relaxed without magic but im glad! since i do think this is his ending over all

- helena bets time: the deal the krovlan rebels didn’t uphold was smth to do with the irids or the feather tails

- “xaden riorson is a lot of things, but happy usually isn’t one of them” hey man what the fuck

- this feels like a fever dream this is the dragon show christmas episode that isn’t relevant to the plot what do you mean they’re bonding over horses

- hey guys is this…capitalism?

- i can’t get over the isle kingdoms being kerch (CFFH: if you haven’t read six of crows this won’t make any sense, but if you have….)

- ARETIA IS THE SECOND MOST BEAUTIFUL THING I MVE EVER SEEN AND MY HOME IS THE FIRST (CFFH: he was ON ONE in this)

- maybe im toxic but he’s being so nice im so anxious about something going wrong 💀 like he stays in the isles or something jesus

- “even if we did, we can’t be in two places at once” + xaden acting weird ….. (CFFH: i want to say third signet but i don’t know)

- what the FUCK is going on with him like it’s really hot but it’s freaking me out

- IM GIVING DIPLOMACY A TRY NOT SURE ITS FOR ME THOUGH (CFFH: dare i say lilith parallel)

- HE WOULD HAVE IF HE’D MET HIM. knocked me on my ass.

- i have an idea i just dont like being wrong baby violet i need to give you a forehead kiss

- why is violets dad the grandpa from the inheritance games

- im going to bed fr fr now but my last minute prediction is that he marries vi to make her an aristocrat (this is wishful thinking) (also we don’t HAVE to rescue halden) (like it’s fine if we don’t)

- MY CONSORTTTTTTTT

- WHEN WOULD BE. can he propose for real. please. (CFFH: this is hurting my feelings)

- bro his LINES IN THIS ???? who do you swear fealty to/VIOLET

- he’s acting less sus…i did NOT like that epigraph abt “returning to his true nature” (CFFH: maybe im on something but idk if this was meant to reflecrt him draining the alloy or whatever it was orrrr if it was abt vi channeling somehow!)

- im almost worried he’s trying to marry her before he kills himself or something but he keeps telling her how selfish he is so maybe not (CFFH: close!)

- her EDS is also a lot better done this time around (CFFH: from a layman’s point of view, obviously, but her injuries were much more graphic, and her other symptoms were actually on page. i really appreciated this)

- oh my godddd sloane and dain.

- i feel like the bond fuckery is vi’s second signet ???? i ALSO feel like it’s sexy

- DAXTON

- PAPA SORRENGAIL HAS A MAIDEN NAME

- also bodhi TOTALLY has a second signet that little LIAR i wonder if he’s an inntinnsic too or smth.

- god imagine bodhi has resurrection

- im trying to be normal but i feel like its insane we’re just now learning where violets family is from idk!!!

- why is dain sweet in this idk also this happened earlier but vi’s dad teaching him languages FOR violet makes me want to cry

- im so fucking proud of violet holy crap

- is violet ??? unnbrian????

31-40

- FOREHEAD TAT LIKE THEOPHANIE!!!!

- violet absolutely can wield there im calling it rn shawty is MAGICAL (CFFH: i guess maybe it’s her touched by dunne ??? thing ??? and she’s somehow ??? half god ????)

- god xaden and dain love her so much

- why does rebecca never let me see xaden do her wraps for her i want to seeeeee

- they’re all in couple pairs so obviously dain and garrick are fucking next (CFFH: this was a joke but tbh…i could be convinced idk)

- god so timing wise DID papa sorrengail meet xaden’s mom !/!:!3&3’ejd (CFFH: i don’t think so ??? but maybe ???)

- not sure my thoughts on the name talia (CFFH: this is bc i picture my bestie Thalia Grace)

- the mommy issues are churning my stomach

- i loooooove aaric holy

- dude i totally thought ridoc was dead

- babe! this isn’t you!

- oh my god ?????? i was NOT expecting violet to give them the old kazzledazzle (CFFH: this is another six of crows reference in which Kaz uses someone’s child as leverage by implying that he’ll kill them, basically, except Kaz is on page morally gray. in THIS book violet is, but i don’t think she had been before now)

- this is genuinely honest to god NOT how i thought their relationship would go and it’s freaking me out

41-50

- you’re my soul JESUS what is he ON

- god poor andarna

- I KNEW HE WAS AN ARIES AND NOT A PICSES I KNEWWWW ITTTT

- she wrote him a letter 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

- i will say i’ve been wondering if the venin effects xaden experiences are more of a ptsd metaphor than anything

- is cuir trans bc i totes thought she was a woman

- ….it would be a shame to kill my last living relative….

- god the adaptations to the running landing mean so much to me im so proud of her

- violet baby i love you to pieces

- you do some of your best work on that throne 😭😭😭😭 (CFFH: the amount of callbacks in this book was very intriguing to me)

- WERE HOME VI ACT LIKE IT

- i was actually rlly against xaden telling anyone he was venin but it’s all gone surprisingly well

- if lindell and lewellen are xaden and liam’s gay foster dads….dont call don’t text

- shadow handcuffs………………..

- im a fan!

- god i did NOT expect that to be the route they took? with the sex ? (CFFH: i thought they were gonna handcuff XADEN. )

- she is absolutely having xaddys dreams but idk what the FUCK the cat one was

- IS XADENS THIRD SIGNET PROPHETIC DREAMS. (CFFH: im leaning towards venin mindfuckery but who knows)

51-end

- i am actually really enjoying tairn and adarna this read although id like a dragon punnet square

- violet is so venin. xaden IS power she says while she says SHE IS power mmmmm rebecca i know your secrets (CFFH: see yall after book 4 idk)

- hi who the fuck was the high priestess and why does it matter im so confused i can see the puzzle pieces and i am flipping the table

- also crack pot theory entered my head. if xaddy gets 3 signets then vi has to get 3 signets. tairn never says naolin he always says “the one who came before” what if…hear me out…somehow it was papa sorrengail???? and not naolin ??? at least not naolin the whole time so then she’s getting a third signet from tairn

- why the fuck did vi not listen to aaric in the first place mans clearly knows what he’s talking about (CFFH: #drama)

- okay is violet a demigod. is that what’s going on

- IS HER HAIR NOT ACTUALLY SILVER (CFFH: i feel like it has to be ????)

- okay wait im thinking about the dedication thing they said earlier -> lilith is sick -> they think fetus vi is going to die -> they ??? dedicate ??? her ??? to dunne ??? (CFFH: i still don’t know actually except she’s two and not a fetus? and it was just papa sorrengail. also i think they rode tairn there LMAO but maybe im insane)

- i cant get over garrick being a distance wielder i need to check on the immrick girlies (CFFH: immrick girlies i hope you’re well!!)

- god how are the irids involved in rsc ???

- i exist for tairn, but i live for xaden okay girl okayyyy

- god does she get to keep being an inntinnsic now ?????

- THRILLED about her sleeping in xadens clothes

- were past the break up stage he’s sooooo real i love him

- core. memory. (CFFH: this is the biggest sin rebecca’s committed anachronism wise my god)

- god DID they get secret married ????

- god when they said bring your brother and i thought she meant liam was being resurrected i actually started to enter cardiac arrest (CFFH: am i the only one 😔)

- is bodhi actually his secret brother and garrick knows and we don’t because what the fuck (CFFH: i guess it could just be vibes?)

- my heart is not in my chest cavity after the liam business

- COLONEL DAXTONS GUIDE TO EXCELLING IN THE SCRIBE QUADRANT!!!!!

- i knew that was how it was going to go purely from alli’s take the second they said they had mira i was like reciting the sitq ending (CFFH: obviously i was slightly wrong but still! this is controversial but the fact that she let everyone were close to (mira/ridoc) live and only killed off tertiary characters kind of undercut the experience for me idk!)

- oh my god dain and sloane 🥹

- come back to me/only ever you

- DUKE OF ANGST

- is garrick’s distance wielding how they dealt with the fuck ass trips to aretia that didn’t work with the timeline bc that’s brilliant actually god damnit

- the bullshit about being everywhere at once means something i can feel it

- RHIANNON?????

- cannot believe that line is feirge

- hi so fun fact i don’t think jm meant to read for this many hours straight i feel like im locked in a trance

- THE ONLY PERSON I TRULY LOVE ???? ABOUT QUINN??? IMOGEN ???

- what on earth is imogen’s second signet bc i don’t think that’s how fire wielding works ????

- i cannot believe the marked ones all have second signets what the ever loving fuck

- i feel like quinn’s death was just not that impactful however imogen saying her mom and sister will know who she is made me tear up jesus

This is where I stopped taking notes!! I’m SO confused about the ending. To be quite honest, I think I’ll reblog this with my thoughts on the ending after I’ve re read it, because I’m LOST. What did Xaden show Sgaeyl ???? Who turned venin with him, because I thought Bodhi but maybe Garrick but maybe both??? how DARE rebecca now show me the riorgail wedding ?/??2?3?3$33&:! WHO does he have a DEAL with???

misc thought that didn’t make it up there:

- i LOVE how she handled Sawyer’s amputation and rehab.

[love44lew]

{day one: if i was a worm☙}

彡drivers lewis hamilton, lando norris, charles leclerc

彡genre oneshots, multiple drivers x reader, scenarios

彡summary you ask your boyfriend an odd but very important question

၊၊||၊ i know im terrible at keeping up with calendars, kinktober for example (im sorry 😫) but its only 14 days this time and im getting a early start so lets hope we’re consistent now🙂‍↕️၊၊||၊

彡warnings none!!

—————-

lewis

you were scrolling on your phone when you came across a reel of a girl asking her boyfriend if she would still love her as a worm, so why not ask your boyfriend? you made your way to the living room where lewis was tiredly sprawled out on the soft cushions of the couch, the sight of him half asleep on his phone making you giggle internally.

“lewis..” you called softly, his eyebrow rising as he moved his phone from his face which he held closely like an old man.

“yes baby” his raspy low voice sent tingles down your spine as you nibbled your lip

“would-“

“theres leftovers in the fridge, i put all the dishes away, yes the wifi is working just reset your phone, i found your lost airpod and i put it in the case, and yes, i’ll still love you if you were a worm” he cut you off abruptly before you can interrogate him. lewis is pretty much immune to confrontation since he’d much rather just get everything done right away then just sit around procrastinating.

“i want take out—“

“its done” you stood there in silence with your mouth agape. how is he SO good??

“anything else?” you watched him as he stood up and reached his arms to the celling, his bones popping and cracking with each stretch. he must’ve been there on the couch for a while.

“can i suck your dick?” you mumbled under your breath as lewis stepped towards you.

“hm?” lewis hummed as he slowly leaned to your side and kissed your jaw as snugly rests his hands on your waist

“uhm- w-what should we get?” youd kind of hoped he heard what you said, because gosh did he deserve it

lewis slowly leans to your ear, “if you wanna do that princess, ima need you to speak up” his breath is warm against your lobe, warmth that travels through your entire body.

lando

you were scrolling through tiktok with one hand and the other entangled in your mans curly hair as he rested peacefully between your thighs. his arms wrapped around your leg as he held his phone and scrolled through his explore page on instagram.

you come across this video of someone asking their significant other the hot question of the month, “would you love me if i was a worm”

you glanced down at your unsuspecting boyfriend with a smirk, brilliant way to get back at him for all those pranks.

“honey,” you called for his attention as you ruffled his hair. his head immediately looked up from his phone and at you “you weren’t sleeping were you?”

“no, i wasn’t. what is it darling?”

“i have a question i want you to answer honestly”

he adjusted himself and rested on his elbow, with you now having his full attention. “yeah? what is it?”

“would you still love me if i was a worm?” you asked the golden question, almost allowing a smirk but immediately catching yourself.

his his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, what the hell are you talking about?

“is this a trick question” lando raised an eyebrow at you.

“well if you think it is—“ you turned your head and response.

he stared at you for a second before answering “yes..? i dunno”

“that wasn’t very honest sounding” you interrogated

“well then, you really want to know my honest answer ?”

“yes!” you abruptly responded, curious on his genuine answer

“well, i wouldn’t know it was you and i hhaaaattteeeee bugs..” he looked you up and down before continuing “it would depend where i would find you as a worm though..” he hesitantly finished his sentence

you smacked his shoulder “what does that mean you dingus?” you barked,

lando held his shoulder from the pain “owww why did you hit me” he pouted, his cute sad face stinging your heart

“because..”

“what did you want me to say? no!?” landos voice cracked as he argued,

“i would’ve preferred that over ‘it depends’” you quoted your fingers and lowered your voice to imitate his.

“dont leave me guessing” you frowned

“darling— i didnt mean it like that” his voice softened, hes so easily weakened by you. one little whine and hes showering you with kisses and love and has already bought you a new game for your wii before you could even tell him whats wrong.

he took your hand and kissed your palm and fingers and down your wrist and forearm.

he adjusted himself again for easy access to your neck brushing his nose on the crook before made his way up to your ear where he gently nibbled on the edge, which earned him a chuckle from you, “heyy that tickles !”

air blew from his nose as a smile cracked through. he moved his lips to your cheek and basically motorboated your face until you were laying on your back dying laughing.

“mmm there it is” he smiled down at you as your cheeks burned partially from smiling and other part from the attack on your face.

“what” you mustered to say through a series of dying down chuckles

“that smile” he caressed your face “pretty girl, i love you as you are, okay?” he confessed quietly, as if he was telling you a secret as he leaned down and finally connected his lips with yours.

charles

you and charles were on one of your routine strolls in the park with leo. charles hand cocooned your smaller one as you were side by side.

leo stopped at a tree to do his business and while the two of you waited for him, you had spotted a butterfly, swallowtail to be specific.

you stood and stared at its wings happily flock around the flowers surrounding the tree, pollinating them. beautiful things like this always put you in a state of pondering.

“mon coeur? what are you thinking about?” charles squeezed your hand, calling for your attention.

“hm? oh! look char, its a butterfly” you pointed at the colorful bug that has now calmly rested on a blade of grass.

“ohh, pretty” charles was now admiring it with you, its small torso and wide wings as well captivating him. leo also noticed, now trying to catch it by jumping up with his mouth agape.

your thoughts continued though as your eyes stayed fixed on your boyfriend. a random, stupid question ate at you though: would he still love you as a bug?

or not a bug, but something or someone who wasn’t you. like what if you were a cute little golden mutt like leo or maybe even a butterfly just flocking around, hide originally meant to fend off predators, now a pinnacle of beauty in nature. what if you werent as fortunate to be born as cute or beautiful, what if you were just a worm? their only survival instinct is to dig in damp mud as a birds preying beak chomped at their tail. a silly concept to think of. how could he love you if you were just a mere bug? the running question of if youd be still deserving of love if you were something as minuscule and overlooked as a worm.

you’re more than greatful to have someone like him in your life, he was your rock—the love of your life. everyday you could be more convinced that this was it, hes the one. even right now, as your gaze stays locked on him simply admiring another external matter, you could feel your heart beating happily at the feeling of being around him. you love his soul, and your soul can follow you anywhere—so if your soul wasn’t in this body, but in one less noticeable than one of a human, would you still be worthy of receiving love?

such a decrepit topic to think of.

your reluctantly averted your gaze from charles, now youre focused back on the butterfly— or now butterflies since there was two now. Leo obviously was going crazy so you’d let him free so he can frolic around in the grass while you’d found a bench to rest on and charles followed.

“okay, now back to you..” charles started

“yes..” you sighed, you’d hoped he had already forgotten catching you in deep thought

“your face, somethings on your mind..” his fingers carefully caressed along your cheek “you can tell me anything” his eyes with softened with worry

your heart fluttered and the butterflies that you’d just seen now occupied your stomach, you could honestly kiss him right now.

“well.. uhm” you averted your eyes, his gaze currently making you nervous and overwhelmed with emotion.

“hm?” he hummed

“its stupid..” your face flushed

“when have i thought anything you have said was stupid”

“i dunno you think it but you could say something different” you shrugged

charles guided your chin to face him

“mon beau cygne, je t’adore. i couldnt think you were anything less than what you are” his voice sang to you like your favorite song, it is your favorite song. you’d kept eye contact for a couple seconds, the words everlasting their meaning the deeper you looked into his eyes.

“okay, okay fine. i’ll tell you for a kiss” without hesitation charles leaned in, his soft lips brushed over yours teasingly before taking yours in his. the kiss was soft and light, quick but not at all rushed. as he pulled away his mouth lingered over yours, his warm breath still shadowing the kiss he’d just left.

“now tell me” he whispered and then pulled away, resting his back on the bench.

“uhm.. do you believe our souls are beyond just our bodies?” you asked shyly

“i mean yeah that could be a possibility, but in what way?” charles questioned

“like even after we die, they still follow us to the next life”

“hmm.. well” he paused, pondering the concept “i dont really like to think about what happens after death, if you know what i mean” he shrugs before continuing

“makes me queasy” he let out a half chuckle.

you dont blame charles for his vague response, hes never been very fond of the topic of death because of personal experience with loved ones. you even feel bad now for bringing it up when he was in such a good mood, but also he insisted.

“whats got you thinking about death on a day like this, mon cœr?” he tapped your side, gaining your focus once again.

“i wasn’t originally thinking about death, i just brought it up so i can get to what i wanna ask you” you shifted your body so you were now facing him. almost instinctively charles hand rests on whatever body part he can touch—in this case your arm as his thumb caresses your soft skin.

“um do you think— would you..” you tried to collect your words since delivery of the question would be critical to charles’s understanding of what you wanted from him.

“do you think you’d still love me if my soul wasn’t in this body, like if i wasn’t me but i was still.. me?” your face scrunched as you questioned your own delivery, now that its leaving your thoughts you also had a hard time understanding what you wanted to say in the first place.

“are you asking if we’re soulmates?” charles tilted his head with his eyebrows furrowed

“…pretty much, yeah” you nodded

“then yes, because soulmates are meant to find each other no matter what, and my soul is always looking for you cara mia” his hand reached up to caress your cheek and you couldnt help but kiss his hand. you’re once again reminded on why you chose him, he couldn’t have given you a more satisfying answer than that.

charles gestured for you to get closer and planted a soft kiss on your nose and next to your mouth before slightly pulling away searching for approval in your eyes, lightly touching your lips with his own once he received it.

every kiss you’d received from him felt like there was an atomic bomb going off in your heart. you felt like you could simply grow wings and fly away just from how high you were off your own love for him.

“je t'aime de tout mon cœur” he whispered to you between kisses

you pulled away to look in his eyes again, greenish-blue eyes that had always captivated you.

“qu'est-ce que c'est mon amour?” charles asked with his voice still in a soft tone, his fingers now brushing your hair away from your face.

“nothing, i love you too charlie” you smiled, charles leaned in for another kiss until a familiar bark was heard close by. you and charles looked down to see a fussy leo demanding for love as well.

“i think he wants some love too” you picked him up and placing him in your lap, which he’d jumped up to kiss your chin. you and charles giggled at his energy filled antics. charles leaned down to give leo some love too, while you smiled at the both of them. they’re the exact same.

The blonde and the brunette always competing for your love, little did they know you loved them both the same. you placed one hand on leo and another on charlies head, petting your two boys, now assured the both of them would love you no matter what.

[crushedsweets]

Love Bonnie interacting with Toby and Kate, curious on how she'd act with the others. Sorry if this sort of ask was answered before!

You guys flatter me too much . I will self indulgent talk under the cut

ok i havent really thought THAT hard about bonnie in Creeped because 1. i only put her in self-insert OC worlds with my friends 2. she's not that interesting to interact with 3. i'm putting her in place of the hypothetical Y/N i wouldve done for a Creeped visual novel (not dating sim...just visual novel LOL) ....maybe i'll redo this with the ghost bride bonnie i made for a slender mansion AU? she's a lot more interesting

HOWEVER. i think with the main cast it could be kinda funny. cuz bonnies just kinda weird and awkward and difficult to talk to. she's so quick to just go right home.

with Nina, i could see nina fawning over bonnie a little. "your hair color is so pretty do you know how many girls at the salon would kill for this?" "oh my god where did you get that top" "smell my perfume do you like it let me spray you!". bonnie would get overwhelmed and unsure if nina is making fun of her or being genuine, BUT i think the second nina's like "oh yeah im from california too" bonnies like ! OK WE R LIKE THE SAME ! i could see bonnie inviting nina out to a cafe to study but ninas writing fanfic the entire time (unbeknownst to bonnie). bonnie would get along the best with nina, on account of them both being friendly girls with similar interests

With clocky. bonnie would 1000% frequent the restaurant clocky works at, always order the same stack of pancakes, and nothing else comes from it. clocky would be alright with her cuz bon tips well + cleans up her table before leaving (mom was a server so she developed the habit + she's nervous about being a bad guest LOL). BUT . as you can see in the pic. i think it'd be funny if bon immediately called camila(my friends oc) and started going on about "oh my god you wouldve fucking loved my server she was so tall dude come visit me im gonna make you come here" and walked past clocky with a coat so she didnt even realize it was her. dumbass

bonnie would have 0 reason to interact with jack... but bonnie has her issues with ghosts that land her freaking out in forests trying to get away from them. and she'd freak the fuck out if she saw jack, cuz bonnies anxiety/nerves/paranoia is already maxxed out all the time. now imagine a 6'7 grey man in an ominious mask being the only person youve seen in your involuntary hike through the woods after having ghosts swear theyre gonna kill you. shes gonna throw up

she'd have 0 reason to talk to jeff too. they would never be in similar circles(not that bonnie really Has a circle), but. i like the idea of them constantly coincidentally getting stuck on the same train/bus and it being hell on earth. for her, at least. he dgaf. maybe he had plans to kill her one night and started following her and something went wrong and he gave up. dunno

i legit struggle to get in-depth with bonnie and crp characters cuz she's just. so not in their realm. she legit just exists and has bad ghost shit happen to her and is like Guys this is really unfair.

[savi-our]

Anti-Harem with OP Mage MC pt. 2

Right so... this is longer than i intended and more detailed than intended, i humbly ask for your forgiveness for this reading more like a fanfic one-shot 😭 Theres just so much you can do with this idea and i wanted to do the SF brothers justice, this is less anti-harem centric and more daily life of MC centric so do what you will with it - id love to hear some thoughts on this though, im genuinely considering writing a full blown fic abt this prompt and writing out ideas here helps convince me. Also watch me turn SF Sans into a closeted fangirl in real-time bc i CAN and i WISH TO and i WILL... tee hee 😍 HT for next part maybe? idk hdafejkkl

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Months passed since the new recruit arrived, and you had spent most of those months avoiding the household all together, not that any of them were in any hurry to seek you out. Actually - apart from passing glares and avoidant glances the skeletons had seemed to avoid you all together now, and it didn't take you long to realize that it was the newbies doing. It seems the brothers had already begun to switch all their official mage dealings with the newbie, and you overheard them one night speaking of how nice it'll be once you were gone. It hit you hard, the unbridled JOY that came from those words. The first smile in months had graced your expression, this annoying assignment would be done soon, and you didn't even have to look for a replacement. Of course there was a technical issue there, the recruit was weak, you doubted they could handle the responsibility, but you'd be damned if you had to be reassigned to the brothers again due to their own poor judgement. You set up barrier upon barrier on the furthest borders of the property, weaving old and powerful magic unseen by the untrained eye, as invisible as a spider thread in the deep dark of night.

The day came sooner than anticipated, a sunny morning wrapped in late spring dew when an official courier brought you the sealed reassignment papers, you wasted very little time. There were no goodbyes, nobody to see you off, no see you laters. You just packed your bags and left, deciding to celebrate your release from this mock hell with a feast of your own making. 

Days passed easily after that, your new assignment had been similar in that you were still expected to deal with monsterkind. As the official top ranking mage you were expected to oversee the immigration process of the newer species - finding them homes and determining the new borders, on paper that is - in actuality you were there in case it all went to shit. You were there to evaluate how big of a threat these newcomers were, and if all of it went down the drain, expectation fell to you to play both judge and executioner. It was all a terrible diplomatic hassle, endless meetings with diplomats and officials from both sides, meetings with the kings and queens, correspondence between the Archmage and the people on the ground, endless evaluations and negotiations. Where they lived, were they safe, were they able to integrate, political and financial concerns, provisions and temporary shelters were now your everyday cause for headache. It was there you met a pair of somewhat similar faces.

 Black and Mutt were skeletons, and that fact had not given you the best first impression - unbecoming of you perhaps, to judge a book by its cover, but months of threats and insults could change even the most unbiased of people. The two were a tad different from the others however, something you found curious if not a bit strange, they were… respectful, if not a bit stiff. Charged as part of the Royal Guard - they worked closely with the rulers of Mtt. Ebbot, so you saw them often escorting officials to and from meetings. You had no reason to approach them, coming from the other side as you were, you technically outranked them quite a bit in the merging hierarchy, but it was one stormy night that made you all grow quite a bit closer in an alarmingly short period of time.

A pack of fiends had snuck their way into one of the lesser guarded shelters outside of Mtt. Ebbott, cunning creatures that fed off of magic. They were hardly a threat alone, even an apprentice mage could take on two by themself - unfortunately due to that fact they tended to gather in numbers, the recorded largest amount was around forty if you remembered right, this however, this was beyond your imagination.

You should have predicted it,it was your miss, your meager miscalculation, of course they would be drawn here, a cave sealed off for centuries, brewing magic for centuries, a breeding ground for anything magic, broken for the first time in centuries. You responded quickly, but by the time you got there it was already chaos, the loud thrum of magic permeated the air and both monsters and humans were rushed off of the scene, the ground was bloodied, a sign that you were already late. You assessed the scene as you rushed past the terrified civilians, you would need to clean it up quickly. 

The resisting force had taken damage but they were holding, human and monster guards stationed at the furthest gate fighting off the onslaught of fangs and burning eyes. You took notice of the two skeletons fighting beyond the gate, they worked well together, soldiers of significant skill - you sped past them, an order to pull back immediately flew past your lips and you moved further into the swarm, Black had called after you but you tuned it out, as daunting as the situation seemed it was still below your paygrade.

It was a single spell, a light that lit up the sky, a deafening bang that rattled the ground and the job was done. Your hands stung from the forced speed of the cast, but you remained unscathed as you stood among the scattered ashes, burning flesh permeated the air. You sighed, the ever present mountain of paperwork on your desk was bound to double in size.

It was all damage control after that, rushed orders to your subordinates and rebinding of the barriers, but when you stepped past the gate once again to scout out the surrounding for any remaining threats is when the two skeleton guards approached you, they demanded to go with you- well the shorter one did anyway, it made your brows raise - there weren't many people left in the world that demanded things from you. You looked them both over, amusement in your eyes, and agreed, a challenge to keep up on your tongue.

After that things had slightly shifted, the skeletons greeted you upon meeting, saluted you upon leaving, you began to notice more monsters approach you with official papers or directives, it was an odd thing, mainly because you reflected on how joined it seemed all of a sudden. Before the attack you were mostly responsible for the human mages and soldiers on base, now it seemed your responsibilities grew their own legs and danced around the monsters as well. You saw more of the skeletons, Black in particular seemed curious, even though he never admitted it or outwardly showed it, it was subtle but you noticed, he often joined you for your nightly rounds even when not required to, it was a bit awkward at first, silent patrolling of the grounds, you had nothing to really speak about, and it seemed neither did he. You could not for the life of you figure out why he took such a sudden interest in your company but you also were curious how long he would keep it up, besides, having him accompany you seemed to put the other monsters at ease.It was on one of those rounds when you finally addressed him, he seemed surprised that you had, shoulders stiff, back straight as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Don't you have more important things to do?” You asked, the question seemed harsh, but its harshness dissipated by the lightness of your tone, echoed by the stone hall in the moonlit night. He had opened his mouth but it was a moment before he responded, seemingly not expecting conversation, he turned away clearing his throat as he set himself to rights.

“OF COURSE NOT, THE SECURITY OF THESE GROUNDS IS OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE. CONSIDERING THE DISASTER FROM TWO WEEKS AGO ITS MORE EFFICIENT TO DO IT MYSELF.” 

You hummed, continuing to walk, listening to the sharp sound of his footfalls a step behind you.

“Would it not be better to split up then?” You asked, your tone still light, your eyes observing him with a knowing glint.

“W-WELL YES, BUT FOUR EYES ARE BETTER THAN ONE, AND IT WILL SAVE TIME IF WE DO SPOT SOMETHING AND NEED A MESSENGER.”

And your guess proved right, his reasoning was weak at best, there was no need for both of you to do rounds together - you could clock a threat miles away even in the pitch black, and you knew for a fact that Black could handle himself well enough, and yet he seemed to want to be in your shadow all the same, you chuckled, but did not voice your thoughts. 

Your relationship seemed to steadily improve after that, every now and again you would walk the shelter grounds together, and every now and again you'd exchange conversation albeit a short one, but it beat the awkward silence that was there in the beginning.

Mutt was different, he didn't seem to hold as much intrigue towards you as his brother, he was more so there by default as he seemed to almost always stay by his brother's side, in fact the only time you saw either of them apart was when Black joined you in securing the premises. The taller brother was an enigma, you had not heard him speak once since your assignment, a part of you wondered if he even could. But he didn't seem outwardly volatile either, more so apathetic towards the goings on around him. That opinion switched one busy day where a scheduling error had made the three of you take an overnight shift guarding a group of pompous diplomats. It was a nightmare, twelve straight hours of listening to empty boasts and endless rants about the economy, even you had begun to space out, this was probably worse than those month long scouting missions in Siberia you were forced into back in training.

 You noticed the brothers were reaching their limit as well, you worried Black would leave indents in his skull with the force he was gritting his teeth and you were sure Mutt was half asleep as he wobbled on his feet, skull falling every odd minute or so. 

It was a couple hours later when you found out you were scheduled for two more babysitting sessions except they were both at the same time, and both had human and monster envoys, Black seemed to mirror your frustration as you checked and rechecked the schedule. 

One way or another you had organized a lower ranking mage qualified for escort duty to take your place for one of them, and Black had given his brother the order to attend the same one as you as he himself took the other, rushed words of “IT’LL BE QUICKER IF EACH OF US TAKES ONE.” after which you parted, the vote of confidence made you chuckle.

It was another four hours when you wondered if Mutt had passed away standing on his feet, he hadnt moved in a good hour or two, and skeletons didn't need to breathe so he remained deathly still. He stood behind the officials chair like a statue carved from marble, quite an unsettling sight considering the early hours of the morning and the sharp looming shadows casting off of him. The human envoys seemed to agree with you, considering the nervous glances being cast his way amidst the conversation, and you couldn't help but find the situation amusing. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep or the frustrations of your job but you decided to hurry the meeting along with a mischievous play of magic, lest you join Mutt in his nap. A moving shadow here, the caw of a crow there and what do you know, suddenly all business has been magically taken care of.

You had woken the looming skeleton with the good news and watched as he attempted to stifle a yawn, he had checked his phone and noted that his brother had not been graced with the same fortune as you. You had asked if he would wait - a nod, you offered your office - a moment of silence, but after a while, another nod.

It was another hour at your desk, finishing up some paperwork when you heard gentle snoring on your office couch, a comfy thing that had served you many times for a bed in the days where your job kept you from home, the sound made you blink slowly to the skeleton that occupied it.

Your own exhaustion made you zone out in thought, the sight had an enviable peacefulness to it, it's perhaps why you didn't notice the phone that fell with a quiet thump out of Mutts pocket. It vibrated, once, twice, then for a third time, screen lighting up repeatedly. You rose from your seat, bones popping as you sighed and made your way over, if it was Black then it was probably asking where Mutt was, you should wake him.

Is what you thought anyway, what ended up happening was you being trapped in an iron grip stuck to a dead asleep skeleton. It happened so quickly and out of nowhere that you didn't even have time to process it, the long hours awake didn't help either. One second you're reaching for his shoulder and the next you're halfway on top of said skeleton, limbs wound around limbs. You blanked, what even was this situation, you never took Mutt for a cuddler, his grip is crushing, impressive for someone with no muscle, wait hold on.

You attempted to pull away, but the answering growl and tightening hold let you know that the skeleton didn't agree with that choice of options, subconsciously or not. Waking him up seemed a thing that you should do, but the option flew right out of the door once you thought about how this would all register with him once he woke up, it was embarrassing really. You attempted once again to move off of him but he turned, and dragged you along with him further into the couch. Ah, you had made it worse. Couch cushions pressed in your back and a very large and a very asleep skeleton pressing you into his ribcage, it seems he intended to keep you for a body pillow, now what.

The door slammed open and you blanked once again, this was a nightmare, you prayed it wasn't some disgruntled diplomat come to complain to you about something. You attempted to lift your head to see but the grip on you made your back pop and you groaned, breath knocked out of you.

“MUTT! WHAT IN TORIEL'S NAME ARE YOU DOING GET OFF THIS INSTANT!! NOW YOU DOG! OFF!” The yelling was familiar and for a second you felt relief, and then dread all over again as vertigo hit you. In his panic he had rolled, rolled right off the couch and onto the cold hard ground and had taken you with him. You groaned again as you attempted to get your bearings, lifting your gaze only to be met with bright purple, you blinked and watched as slowly but surely confusion turned into realization and then straight into horror, the brightness of the flush on Mutt’s face was there for half a second before he was gone, disappearing into thin air. 

It took you a while to process the whole thing , even longer to reassure Black that it was an accident on his brother's part and that you were partly to blame for the situation as well. By the end of it all it was safe to say that you were exhausted, so you had locked up and went home, it was the morning after that you noticed that the lanky skeletons phone was still innocently laid on your carpet. You snorted, wondering whether or not the silent guard dog would come knocking on your door before late, or if it would be his ever principled brother in his stead.

[fadelbison]

one of the things that I loved about the fadelstyle stalker date was that despite all of the conflict, style seemed to be the first person that showed an interest in fadel's life - like a genuine hey are you having a good time with your activities level of interest.

He showed up to the restaurant to watch him prep and make commentary. Fadel went all brooding and knife-ey on him sure but we dont see him pull out those biceps that we already know can drag style out.

He calls him chef and helps him out, doing exactly the job that we see Bison abandon earlier in the episode - when was the last time someone made fadel feel like he was something other than a cold blooded killer?

And then you remember that style and fadel have already had this heartbreaking interaction in episode 1

[Screenshots from Ep1 of Style asking Fadel "You do everything yourself?" and Fadel responding "I do."]

I was never convinced that that interaction was just about the heartburgers management for fadel lol

style is going to figure out they're assassins, style tries to backtrack from the car deal when kant agrees. i think asking for the car was style's way of refusing that favor but when kant agrees he gets curious or really starts believing that kant is in love.

style is probably the most intelligent of the four but he's definitely the most emotionally intelligent of the four though it's masked by his carefree personality - and he has figured out for better or for worse that fadel is lonely, desperately so.

style asks for a list of things that fadel likes doing and the best bison comes up with is his schedule which is exactly the same everyday but bison doesn't even know. and style makes it work. he tries to create intimacy at the burger shop in ep1 with fadel and it fails and when he's handed a schedule that is 70% fadel either prepping for or being at the burger shop, style comes back with companionship on offer.

when bison said fadel's insides need a beating, style correctly interprets it as put that man through the mortifying ordeal of being known and he really does it in a way that's not random. The random method failed so now he's trying to understand fadel, something that fadel hasn't experienced in a long time if he ever has.

And the cookie crumbles in less than a day. fadel should feel some embarassment for how easy it was?

look at fadel - he's confused. error 404 not found expression on a man if i've ever seen one. there are no internal protocols of handling this situation, so for the first time he has to rely on his instincts, instincts that were forced into ignoring and mistrusting this sort of stimulus.

fadel simply wants. the comeback of what he thought his long, dead desire (bison is the only person he's convinced himself he needs!!) and those hardened, survival instincts are at odds, and the struggle to push that impulse away, to jerk off angrily in the hopes its flushed out of his system - oh fadel i love that you're so un-normal about this.

style sets the challenge in the pursuit of fadel for himself in a way. despite having almost no information and this probably being a slightly hyperbolic statement style has surmised the stakes of this mission much better than even kant has.

style has him and im fairly certain style knows he has him...if he wants him. you've thrown your own gauntlet style so just how far are you going to go to meet that challenge?

[yourlocaljonghoe]

A Smile From Me To You. || Choi San.

Summary: sometimes, even a man like choi san gets jealous and insecure over the most trivial things. and sometimes, all it takes are your words to help him through it.

Pairing: choi san x fem. reader

Genre: fluff

Wordcount: 1.1k

Warnings: slightly suggestive at the end

A/N: happy (belated) birthday to one of the kindest people ever aka my yessabunnyboo aka @skteezcursed <33 i genuinely love you so much, the way you always listen to my ramblings and whining without ever complaining and the way you're so kind and sweet to everyone just shows what an amazing person you are and im so glad to have you as a friend. this fic here is super short and nothing special unfortunately, but i promise you a better one next year, just you wait!! as always divider credits to @firefly-graphics!

Taglist: @ghstzzn, @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie, @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf

Available here on AO3.

“San,” you called out softly, leaning slightly toward him, “are you okay?”

Beside you, your lover was staring intensely at the TV, his lips pressed into a thin line. You’d noticed it about fifteen minutes ago, the way he suddenly went quiet, his comments getting less and less until he remained silent completely. At first, you thought he was just tired after a long day at work, but then you caught the way his eyes narrowed every time the lead actor came on screen.

It had started as a casual movie night, the two of you curled up on the couch under a warm blanket, enjoying each other's company like almost everyday. You had picked a romantic kdrama you'd been eyeing for awhile, something light and easy to watch, and San had agreed, though you knew it wasn’t exactly his favourite genre. He didn’t mind, though; he loved spending time with you no matter what you were watching. But now, after just two episodes, he was practically glaring at the TV, his arms crossed over his chest in silent protest.

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze still fixed on the screen where the actor was delivering a heartwarming monologue in front of the female lead. It was only when you nudged him gently with your elbow that he finally tore his eyes away, setting his eyes on you instead.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, genuinely curious now.

San shifted uncomfortably, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, though his tone suggested that there was, indeed, something.

You raised an eyebrow. “San, come on. You really suck at lying, and you know it. Just tell me what’s bothering you.”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. Finally, he muttered under his breath, “...You're smiling too much at him.

You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “Huh?”

“That actor,” he replied, getting more and more frustrated. “You’re smiling at him like way too much!”

It took you a full moment to process what he was saying, but when you finally did, you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips. “Sannie, my baby, he’s an actor. On TV. He… he doesn’t even know I exist.”

San’s pout deepened, and he glanced back at the screen as if to verify if the actor was still on screen. Fortunately for him, he wasn’t, instead the female lead was seen with the other male lead you deemed as ‘annoying’. “But you were smiling,” he insisted, sounding almost hurt. “I saw it.”

Your gaze softened. This wasn’t just about that damn actor - it was about San’s insecurities, which he rarely showed. For all his confidence and charm, there were moments when he needed reassurance, when he worried that maybe he wasn’t enough, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Instead, it was you who would never be good enough for him. Choi San was the closest thing to perfection humanity could ever achieve; he was kind, funny, gentle, pretty, sexy and so, so much more

“San,” you said gently, reaching out to take his hand in yours, “It seems I haven't shown you how much you make me smile, hm? Have I made you feel neglected recently?”

“No, I… Well, what if you like him more than me? He’s good-looking, and-”

You cut him off, shaking your head firmly. “Stop right there. San, no one on a stupid screen or anywhere else could ever replace you. I mean, I was smiling at him, but no one will genuinely ever make me smile or laugh like you do.

San finally met your gaze, his expression softening just a bit, though he still seemed a little unconvinced. “But what if one day you smile for everyone else, even a stupid actor like him, except… me?”

In a way, this whole situation was weirdly endearing, really. No man would ever take it as seriously as him. You could truly see how much he wanted to be the one and only who made you smile, and it made your heart swell. San was always so passionate, so intense in his emotions, and that was one of the things you loved most about him. 

You scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his shoulder. “San, I promise you, no one else can make me feel the way you do. You’re the one I love, the one I want to spend my time with. I’m sorry if I seemed a bit too distant lately.”

He didn’t respond right away, his eyes now focused on the way your fingers traced small circles on his side. After a few moments, he finally spoke, his voice quieter than before. “I just… I sometimes get too scared you're not enjoying our time together as much as I do. What if one day you decide that I'm just… too boring?”

You pulled back slightly to look him directly in the eyes. “You’re not going to lose me, San. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. If anything, I’m the one who's enjoying your company more than anything. Hell, I want to be with you 24/7 and it scares the shit out of me, because I've never felt this way before.”

He looked at you, really looked at you, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he let out a breath he’d been holding, his posture relaxing a bit. “God, this was so lame,” he admitted, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “I'm sorry for getting jealous over something so stupid.”

You smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “It’s not that stupid. It’s actually kind of… cute?”

San chuckled, though the slight blush on his cheeks betrayed how flustered he really was. “Cute, huh?”

“Very,” you confirmed, moving closer until your lips were just a breath away from his. “And since you’re just so cute, I think you deserve some extra attention.”

Before he could respond, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a kiss that was soft yet passionate. San responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the tension in his body melt away as you continued to pour all your affection into that single moment.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were slightly out of breath, but the smile on San’s face was worth everything. 

“Still jealous?” you teased, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.

San shook his head, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “Hmm.. maybe a little? I definitely wouldn’t mind a few more kisses though, just to be sure of course.”

You laughed softly, leaning in to give him exactly what he wanted. “I can also give you way more than just a kiss, just to really reassure you, hm? Would you like that?”

His dick immediately twitched at your words. “Of fucking course I'd like that.”

[lovedrruunk]

‘Take ur heart!

Venture (Overwatch) x reader

Authors note!!! (¬‿¬ ); (UPDATE: PLEASE GO READ MY OTHER POSTS INSTEAD CUZ I LITERALLY HATEE THIS ONE AHHHH THE OTHERS R SM BETTER I SWEAR!! IM STILL LEARNING!!!) First fic ever (and last knowing me!) and ofc it’s overwatch related…. I’ve literally never written a fanfic before so pls give me feedback!! I feel like it’s a bit boring just cuz we haven’t learned a lot abt them yet so it’s very surface lvl!!

“I got this one while digging in Acropolis! And this one from a site in Giza!” They said enthusiastically pointing to some scars on their forearm.

You and your new colleague, which you now know goes by Venture, had met on the rooftop of your work building about an hour ago when you both had coincidentally needed some fresh air. You hadn't even been there for more than 5 minutes before you heard the door to the rooftop open. Despite having just met, you found yourself immediately drawn to their easygoing nature. They spoke with a lightness and joy that seemed contagious and you couldn’t help but be caught hook line and sinker.

“And this one—" they grinned awkwardly, pointing to the chip in their front teeth. “This um…” They lowered their finger, looking away a bit embarrassed. “It was nothing.”

You chuckled at how much of a bad liar they were and as curious as you were, you didn't want to pry into anything that might make them uncomfortable, so you decided to swiftly take the attention off it.

"How'd you get this one?" you reach out to take their hand pointing to a deep scar you had noticed on their thumb.

"Oh I got that one fighting a monkey for a rock in Suravasa." they shrugged and you couldn't help but laugh at how casual they were.

"Scary!"

"Nah, just annoying! Little dude didn't know what he had coming... I may have been scathed but I won the war!"

You shook your head in amusement at their nonchalant attitude towards what sounded like a crazy life and as you leaned against the railing you noticed yourself admiring them more and more.

After a bit of rambling Venture seemed to have come back to their senses stopping abruptly. They took a second to look at you closely noticing how you were genuinely interested. You weren't still there out of pity or asking questions for conversations sake, you genuinely liked listening to them talk which Venture had realized pretty early on that in professions like theirs, was pretty rare. They couldn't help but feel flustered under your gaze, quickly trying to put the attention off of them and on to you.

"Well what about you? Any things you're passionate about?"

As the conversation flowed, you found yourself sharing stories of your own, although they were average compared to theirs. Nevertheless, they listened with genuine interest, nodding along and occasionally butting in with words of praise or curiosity.

Before you knew it, the sun had begun to set and the evening breeze was ruffling your hair as you stood in silence, content with each other's company.

"I bit a rock."

"...hah?"

"I bit a rock... and it chipped my tooth."

"..."

(* ^ ω ^)

[cottonlemonade]

Crush At First Sight

word count: 811 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Tendou x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: spoilers

synopsis: you are on vacation and go visit a praline-making demonstration

Part of the Parisian tourist experience for a chocolate connoisseur such as yourself you simply had to go to a praline-making demonstration. Prim and proper you sat in the first row of the small room with the high ceiling windows, waiting (im)patiently for the chocolatier to step behind the detached metal counter on which a large basin sat that smelled heavenly of chocolate.

Utensils, molds, and a large flat thing you recognized as a scraper lay neatly on the clean surface.

People to your left and right were chatting in different languages and taking pictures of the setup. A few minutes passed until the door behind the counter opened and a young man stepped out. Your first thought was that he looked excited, the second, he was really quite handsome in a chaotic sort of way. He wore a white uniform, the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows.

“Bonjour à tous! English or Français?”

General mumblings of “English” simmered up from the crowd and he nodded.

“Bear with me, please. My English is only so-so.”, he said heavily accented. It sounded a bit French and a bit of something else.

“My name is Satori, I’m from Japan but came to study … chocolate in Paris.”

The audience chuckled and the young chocolatier straightened his previously slouched shoulders a little, apparently relieved to have broken the ice so easily.

Tendou had done these demonstrations dozens of times before. The chocolate academy sent out their protégés regularly to these tourist demonstrations and usually, he had up to six a day.

He scanned the crowd, proud of such a good turnout, and silently wondered if he had prepared enough tasty treats for everyone to have a bite afterward and then spotted you. Oh no, you were way too cute. This could be a problem. He’d be too preoccupied trying to show off, what if he dropped the filled molds or accidentally used too much force scraping off excess chocolate and sent some flying in your direction? As he stirred the molten chocolate in the basin he stole a second glance in your direction. You sat and watched expectantly, clearly genuinely curious about his upcoming explanations. He decided to ignore you for now, to not spare you another look. For his own mental state. But when his little workshop began and he held up his different instruments asking for participation in naming them and your hand shot up he knew he was in trouble.

Of course, you knew all the utensils, and of freaking course, you knew how to define what a praline was in its essence. Gorgeous and as excited about his work as he was - if it were up to him he would have sent everyone packing and given you a private show, ending with lifting you onto the counter and feeding you one delicious creation of his after another. He tried not to imagine his fingers dipping into your generous sides or standing between your plush thighs, pushing praline after praline past your lips. He held up one of the older molds they used to pour chocolate into in the 1850s and said, “As you can see, these were made of iron. I, of course, could bend them easily because I’m very strong but the new polycarbonate ones are bendable for everyone else as well.”

His heart tumbled down at least two long sets of stairs when he watched you laugh at his joke.

Bravely, he soldiered through his demonstration, disappointed when someone snatched up a reply to a question you obviously knew the answer to. Somewhere towards the end you had stopped raising your hand, undoubtedly uncomfortable about some whispers and looks from people next to you. He adored your eagerness, tried not to coo at how you chewed your lips when suppressing an answer and by the time he hit the mold with finished, set pralines on the counter to get them out he was already thinking of a way to ask for your number.

He did an over-the-top bow at the end, thanking people for their attention, and began cleaning the counter while the audience filed out of the room. You stayed back a bit much to his delight, sorting through your bag. Finally, you carefully picked up one of the pralines as if it was the most precious thing ever and not something he literally threw together in half an hour.

“This was great, thank you.”, you said and Tendou melted like the chocolate in the bain-marie.

“You’re very welcome.”, he replied, watching with bated breath as you lifted the treat to your lips.

“Oh wow… incredible.”

Tendou beamed.

“You know, this particular one goes great with coffee. Fancy a cup? The next group won’t be here for another 30 minutes.”

You looked surprised, which dialed his cute aggression up to 100.

“I’d love that.”

a/n: I’m currently on vacation in Brussels and went to the Chocolate Museum yesterday which was so incredibly interesting 😱 After watching a demonstration by a young cocky chocolatier I knew I had to write something like it for Tendou! Originally, it was supposed to be a drabble. Oh well.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

read the leona flaws req(?) and now im curious about silvers flaws. i was gonna ask about kalims too, but it's probably pretty obvious what his are (obliviousness or wtv). but if you've done this before then just ignore this ask m(__)m

[Referencing this post!]

I won’t be going out of my way to make a list of all Silver and Kalim's flaws due to the reasons cited in this post. However, I’m going to at least discuss Kalim here!

This anon proposes that Kalim's flaws are "probably pretty obvious" and mentions that his obliviousness is one such flaw. Yes, that's true. Kalim often does not notice how his requests and ideas impose on others (namely Jamil). At other times, his obliviousness leads to him unintentionally insulting others. For example, he accidentally insults Riddle's lack of stamina by remarking, "You know, it's kinda nice to see even you can't come first in everything, Riddle." Finally, his obscene wealth allows Kalim to not really be cognizant of his privilege; Kalim often does not realize there is a significant wealth disparity between himself and others, and while he isn't mean about it, it can still come off as demeaning when he casually talks about what he has or acts surprised by what others don't have.

Honestly, a lot of Kalim's flaws come from the sheltering that his privilege gives him. He doesn't seem to understand how a lot of things work and doesn't seem to be aware of the struggles that the common man experiences. Kalim also believes that there are easy solutions to what are very complex issues, like claiming that he and Jamil can "start over" and try to be friends and rivals on their own terms. This optimism can be a good thing too though--Kalim chooses to be trusting of others, even if it puts himself in danger, because he doesn't want to live life being suspicious of everyone and everything. When you think about it, Kalim doesn't know when the day could be his last (since there are constant attempts on his life). So his whole "party boy" persona... maybe he's just living it up as best he can because hey, if he dies today then he wants to have gone out like a firework... shining brightly, being happy, etc.

A flaw of Kalim's that I don't see being discussed much--perhaps because it's not as easy to "see", given how cheery he seems and how he has all of his basic needs and more met--is how Kalim actually doesn't entrust much of himself to others. "But wait, Raven!" I hear you saying. "That's not true! Kalim's so generous! He's always throwing parties for others and offering to buy them things. He's also one of the only students to be warm and inviting, and he can get emotional and talk too much about personal details." Yes, you're right! However, that's not the same as Kalim truly being vulnerable. A lot of his dialogue is talking about the fun he has with others or about his family and its business or connections. But what about his troubles? It's not realistic for Kalim to be happy 24/7. Surely he must have bad days too? Problems of his own? A line in his Dorm Uniform card suggests as much: "Mind if I bend your ear about my troubles sometime?" BUT THEN THE INSANE THING IS THAT HE FOLLOWS THAT UP WITH, "Let's see... Hmm... Actually, ever mind, my life is great! Ha ha!"

It sounds like he has issues he wants to share with you, but he never actually does. Instead, he dismisses it and claims that his life is just fine... even though this guy might have tons of trauma from the many assassination attempts on him. He gets ill at the thought of curry because Jamil was harmed in taste testing poisoned curry for him--and even in this story, Kalim is shown to care so much for others, but is unwilling to speak about himself and what he's going through. In book 5, Jamil is, for the first time, selected for his genuine skills over Kalim, who is used to everything being handed to him on a silver platter. Kalim struggles to verbalize why it is that he's frustrated, but resolves to practice more on his own without telling anyone. He even seems a little bashful that Yuu walks in on him, almost like Kalim is hesitant of showing people how he is when he's not happy. He's ultimately able to talk out his feelings with Yuu (which is great), but I'd argue Kalim doesn't truly come full-circle until book 7. That's when he finally makes good on a promise he makes in book 4: that he'll slug Jamil and call him a bad guy for betraying him all the way back then. Here it is in full force, that ugliness that Kalim wasn't ready to let out or come to terms with when we first met him.

I completely understand that it can be harder to spot the shortcomings of someone who so readily masks their problems with the whole "I'm okay! Look at how happy I am!" schtick. I'm not even necessarily accusing Kalim of "faking" it; that's genuinely how he is, and potentially also his main means of coping with whatever issues he's got going on. I think it's really fascinating to consider though! Even when you're as rich and as powerful as Kalim is, he's got his own demons to content with.

[williamkisser]

A Luca x reader would be nice........... preferably slow burn and y/n is the shy type............. I'm hungry................. Thirsty............ Would beg....... Thank you.... *dying*

♡— The Prisoner with a shy S/O

♡— Oh my god… anon… N-N… NO!!!! Anon please, don’t do this to me… breathe. Oh my god. BREATHE!! *sniff* *sob* i’m… I’m so sorry i couldn’t save you, anon…. I hope you’re in a better place now… *sob*

♡— Warnings: g/n reader, fluff, possibly ooc i’m not sure, word count is 1400

♡— Luca Balsa, despite going through a turmoil of tragic events, never did once even try to stop working on his lifelong passion, god forbid even think of it. Yes, around him there were degenerates, murderers, thieves, even mystical, strange creatures - such combinations would drive any man crazy, as if anyone in here already wasn’t. But after all, finding something you could get absorbed in is the best method for killing time, don’t they say? Not even his developing issue with memory loss can stop him now.

♡— That’s why the prisoner, most of the time, could be found in the comfort of his own dorm, sitting by the desk while brain storming for yet another solution to the new experiment he was currently developing. And to be frank, he did quite like it this way. He had his own corner in the world, didn’t need to worry about money, could eat delicious meals and could even discuss some scientific matters with a few other enlightened individuals. And the prize for winning the game was even more tempting. Just imagine how much quicker he could develop his project with all this cash.

♡— Despite all the focus on his own dreams and scientific infatuations, Luca didn’t stray from engaging in interactions with other people. He’s certainly considered as one of the friendliest and most cheerful people in here. Some wonder if anyone im here ever managed to get on his nerve. He’s just very tolerable towards most, if not all, however, clearly he feels most comfortable near people who are willing to listen to his info-dumps, or engage in smart conversations, ask questions and give suggestions. There weren’t much residents in the manor like this. Most are either uninterested or too weirded out, therefore the prisoner always appreciated the open minded ones.

♡— Sadly, Luca’s past whereabouts left a permanent scar on him, making him a little unaware to some social cues. This man can not pick up on someone being painfully visibly attracted to him. He assumes all people willingly interacting with him are either friendly or just curious. Luca likes showing off and exchanging ideas with his mentor Alva, asking Helena for advice and letting her touch all of his tools or projects, trying to connect nature with science together with Luchino, or even explaining his ideas to the suspiciously fascinated Florian.

♡— And then there was you. A person very shy, awkward even. Everyone didn’t mind your presence, you just existed in your own bubble, in silence. Sometimes, someone would try to include you in some conversation, and while you did appreciate the gesture you just couldn’t grasp why you felt so uncomfortable, barely able to form a meaningful sentence. That was until you first encountered a young, quite charming in his own way man personally. You instantly became fond of Luca Balsa. Something about him just radiated pure happiness. He genuinely wanted to talk with you, sensing your anxiety, and you have no idea whether it’s for better or worse, because, oh God - he made you feel butterflies in your stomach and needles in your heart. You’ve got a crush on the Oletus manor’s „Prisoner”.

♡— You didn’t know what to do. The newly discovered feelings for the boy made your anxiety far more intense than it already was. Something in your head just screamed to not get too attached, after all, this is Luca Balsa we’re speaking of, he most likely doesn’t view you as anything else but a companion in matches. But, of course, the heart always does whatever it wants, ignoring the brain. That’s how you found yourself standing in front of his dorm doors, reflecting on if it’s alright for you to knock on them. What if he’s too busy right now and you’re just going to be a burden? This was a part of your mastermind plan - try to get into his interests and become a closer friend, and then…. maybe the friendship could bloom onto something else? You were in deep wonder, unaware that the doors are now open and Luca was waving his hand in front of your face. Earth to you.

♡— Either way, you spent some quality time with him together. He was very pleased to hear that you wanted to find out more about his projects and shared several insights related to his future plans. His dorm felt oddly cozy. You didn’t even realize that visiting Luca became some sort of a habit of yours, entering his workplace nearly on a daily basis - it made you forget about all the atrocities you witnessed during the bloody games. His voice was so soft and gentle, his eyes beamed as you kept asking questions about what is he doing right now. Luca felt so glad to elaborate and ramble about his passion. He’d even offer you to help him, giving you simple tasks as asking you to bring a certain tool. He was well aware of your shyness, so he was as understanding as he could, not forcing anything onto you. One day, Luchino teasingly called you „Luca’s little assistant”. The intense colour of your cheeks spoke for itself. You were head over heels.

♡— Quickly enough, your small acts of kindness turned into something way more serious. At one point, you felt like Luca’s own caretaker, because he was literally too absorbed in his work to pay attention to his own well-being. After you began frequently assisting him in not only helping to build some programs, you just took care of his needs. While Luca would love to stay up all night and didn’t like when people complained about it, oddly enough, he didn’t hesitate to tuck himself into his bed after you offered the prisoner too. You made sure he went outside and ate enough. Simple gestures like that were your own way of showing him affection, as you were too shy to be verbally affectionate.

♡— The whole situationship was now taking way too long. You were absolutely crazy over Luca, while he viewed you as a good friend and a fast learning companion. Everyone could tell you were following him like a lost puppy outside of matches, and he didn’t mind it at all. You just wished he would finally pick up on your real intentions, but at the same time you felt worried. What if he won’t talk to you anymore? What if there will be weird tension between the both of you if you confess? On one ordinary day, you were sitting by his desk as always, silently reading the notes hanged on the cork board while Luca came to you and asked to help him draw a technical sketch in his work notebook, to which you agreed to. After months of practice in his dorm you already knew how to properly draw a project on a piece of paper with accurate proportions - yet this certain sketch was new to you, you weren’t quite sure how to do it. That’s when Luca held your hand and guided it, helping you be more precise, and what an amazing, ecstatic feeling it was, his hand contained a specific, electric even, feeling on top of that. You blushed so hard you were surprised Luca didn’t even notice, but you knew you can’t be with him this way. You were hurting yourself by not telling the truth.

♡— This is how you found yourself sitting on Lucas’s desk, looking down and fidgeting with your fingers after telling the prisoner to listen for a minute. The whole thing was so stressful you can barely remember anything from that moment, not sure if it’s because of your own anxiety or if it’s the curse of this wicked place you’re stuck in. Either way, your confession to him was probably the most awkward one this Manor has ever seen - and it certainly saw a lot. Luca was surprised he didn’t manage to connect the dots for so long. He was focused on all the wrong things and failed to notice your affection towards him. Those were a few painful months, but he was going to make sure you know he appreciates all the help, not only on the projects, but also helping him take care of himself. Luca asked you for permission to kiss you while holding your hand, which you agreed to, feeling happy like never, making all your shyness go away for once… which did not last long, as Florian entered the room without knocking, making a loud „EWW” sound. Luca was going to make sure no one will interrupt you, scribbling something about a doorbell in his notebook right after kissing you like his life depended on it. Turns out, Luca Balsa now has found something to look forward to in his life other that science and innovative inventions - which was you.

Thank you for your request anon… i hope you can read this fic in the afterlife at least… anyways this my first time writing a fic for a character i’m not very familiar with. I tried to be as accurate as i could so i’m sorry if it’s ooc 😭 anyways it’s 2am now… idv x reader tag how are you doing on this lovely summer night