#it is a TRIP working with teenagers again

[paulyenvol6]

Perfect For You

Joel Miller x female!reader / No outbreak AU

You are Joel's affair and can't keep your hands off him during a garden party at his house which ends in a heated encounter in his bedroom... This is basically just filthy smut lol. Enjoy :)

Contains: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, rough oral sex (m receiving), crying, thigh riding, orgasm denial, dirty talk, dumbification, very degrading and objectifying, mean and dom Joel, soft!dom Joel in the end, begging, spitting, age gap, reader is in her 20s and Joel is in his 50s, daddy kink, cursing, Joel cheating on his wife with you

Wordcount: ~6.37k

Masterlist

Joel should've known.

He should've known from the second his wife had come up with this stupid idea that this wouldn't end well. But of course his mind had gone blank at the sound of your name, and perhaps the fear of saying anything that might reveal the nature of his relationship with you, so he had just nodded and dropped his eyes to his breakfast. No wonder Kate had been confused.

'You don't think it's a good idea to invite her? I think she's lovely and I thought that the two of you were going along well,' she had said and Joel had wanted to smack his head against the table.

'No, no, hon, I think it's a good idea. Sorry, I'm just a l'il tired.' Kate had smiled and kissed him on his cheek and then matter was finished. For her.

Joel on the other hand hadn't been able to stop thinking about the upcoming garden party and had felt torn between regretting his approval and his desire to see you on the weekend. The last couple of weeks had been stressful and there had barely been any time to see, let alone fuck you and his body was hungry for your touch.

But at the same time it was always risky when there were more people around, especially his wife. Joel simply couldn't control himself around you; he felt like a teenage boy that only had sex on his mind and as much as he enjoyed to feel that way about somebody again, he knew how dangerous it could possibly be. Kate couldn't find out about this and although he currently spent most of his free time thinking about you, he wouldn't risk his marriage.

But that was how Joel had ended up where he was right now. Sitting on a chair in the garden beneath the warm sun, his hand resting on his wife's thigh and his thoughts with you.

He just couldn't help it. You looked too pretty in that little flower dress that definitely revealed too much skin for his liking, especially considering that you had spent a suspiciously large amount of time chatting with another of Kate's co-workers, Ian. 'At least he's her age,' Joel thought bitterly and toyed with his fork.

"Honey?" a voice suddenly cut through the air and his head quickly turned around fearing that he had stared at you too obviously.

"Yes?" Joel asked gently squeezing Kate's thigh.

"I was just asking if you could hand me the water."

He nodded a little too fast but reached out to grab the bottle and of course his eyes fell on you again while doing so. He felt the urge to curse something or someone and first and foremost you because why did you have to look so sexy and cute today? Joel wanted to crash or kick something, anything to get rid of the accumulated tension in his body as his eyes automatically ran over your curves. He would give anything to be inside of you right now and he felt his pants painfully squeezing his cock at this very thought.

'This is not good,' the panicky voice in his head reminded him and he quickly tried to think of something else. Something disgusting perhaps but he couldn't help himself. All he could see in front of his eyes was you.

A week ago when he had fucked you on the couch during Kate's business trip. Your legs spread wide, your pussy on display for him and your little hands clutching his shirt in frustration because he had teased the shit out of you.

And then he saw how you had looked on your knees for him when you had visited him at work. After the two of you had hooked up for the first time and after he had been over his regrets and doubts realizing that not seeing you again wasn't an option, Joel had set clear rules such as not meeting you at his work place. But after he had realized how difficult it was to see each other without getting caught it had been a matter of days until he had allowed you to visit him. It was a quick fuck and definitely hadn't satisfied him entirely but it was better than nothing.

"Your mind really is elsewhere today, mhm?" his thoughts were interrupted once more but this time it was Tommy.

"Sorry. Did you say something?" Joel demanded to know and swiftly turned his attention back to the food on his plate.

"No. I was just noting that you seem absent. Everything alright?"

He prayed that Kate to his left wouldn't notice the bulge in his pants because it certainly would be hard to explain while he tried to come up with an answer.

"Yes I'm fine. Just thinkin' 'bout work."

"Oh Christ, Joel. You need to grant yourself some joy, okay? You can't always make everythin' perfect, you know that, right?" Tommy determindely looked in his eyes and Joel would have almost broken into a smile.

He did grant himself enough joy and that was the core of this whole problem. He should forget you, start treating you like what you were, his wife's co-worker, and be grateful to have such a caring and kind wife. Instead there he was daydreaming about a girl almost 30 years his junior like Kate didn't even exist. He really was an awful person but the worst part was that Joel didn't intend to change anything about it.

It got even worse because the longer he spent sitting by the table, you in a dangerous 5 meter radius of him, the clearer it became that he wouldn't be able to pass the day like this. He needed you the way he needed air and soon Joel would suffocate.

"Excuse me for a moment," Joel finally pressed, and given his friends' confused reactions, it had come out at a bad time.

"Alright, sure," Kate nevertheless smiled and patted his hand. At this point he didn't care about anything anymore but just rushed to the backdoor which probably looked odd. Joel had decided that it would be best to quickly jerk off in the bathroom and then return once he was feeling fine again because the way he acted right now only drew the attention to him.

Almost blind with lust he stumbled into the house and rushed to the kitchen to splash some cold water in his face which wasn't only helpful to get a clear head but was also very comfortable considering the hot weather.

He was just drying his face, starting to feel like a normal human being again when he heard a noise behind him. Joel abruptly turned around so the person behind him jolted but quickly collected herself to smile at him.

"Joel. Are you alright?"

Of course it was you and he cursed himself for feeling this instinctive tightness in his chest hinting at the fact that you were just the person he wanted to see right now. Which was so fucking wrong.

"Yes. I'm fine. Just go back to the party," he mumbled already turning around with the intention to leave the kitchen but you were quicker and held him back by placing a hand on his arm.

"Where are you going?"

He rolled his eyes feeling the familiar tightness in his pants again and just prayed that neither you or anyone else who might come to the kitchen now would notice it.

"To the bathroom. Go now, the others are probably waiting."

"Joel," you said quietly and a cease appeared between his eyebrows.

"What?" he spitted almost feeling a little bad for being so harsh with you but what else was he supposed to do? He needed a moment alone and, frankly, you were getting on his nerves.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Jesus…," he sighed and rubbed over the lower half of his face. "Yes I am. It's just the heat."

He gently and yet firmly removed your hand from his arm but you had a determined look on your face as you stepped in his way once more.

"But maybe I'm not."

Joel frowned resting his hands on his hips as he looked you up and down. "Y'look fine to me."

A little smile formed on your lips that looked so goddamn kissable right now that he had to shake his head to remind himself of the current circumstances.

"I need you. I need you so badly, Joel and I can't go back outside now. Please."

His heart sank into his legs at your words and he felt such an indescribable anger and desire at the same time. He wanted to shake you until he had reminded you of the consequences of what you had just said but he couldn't deny the way his body reacted to you. 'I need a clear head now,' he said to himself as he closed his eyes, then grabbed your upper arms and pushed you through the kitchen door in the floor so that any guests entering the house wouldn't see you.

"Have you lost your fuckin' mind?" he gritted his teeth and watched the way you squirmed with satisfaction. But you were yet to give in and instead pleaded him with your eyes.

"I'm gonna lose my mind if you don't do anything, Joel."

"You know how risky this is? My wife is in this fucking house. Collect yourself and then go outside, for god's sake."

He placed a hand on your back to push you towards the kitchen again but you stubborn little creature clung to his arms as if life depended on it and gave him these puppy eyes that never failed to make his knees wobbly.

"I don't care. We can go upstairs and then no one will hear."

He scoffed clasping a hand around your chin as he patronisingly lifted his eyebrows.

"How about you use your brains for once in your fucking life? Do you think nobody will notice us being away for so long?"

You let out something that sounded like a little desperate whine and as angry and frustrated he was with you right now there was also a part of him that was satisfied and smug about how needy you were for him. Joel was certain you were close to begging him on your knees and the animalistic side of him enjoyed this show so much that he wished you would refuse to leave just for a little bit longer.

"I don't care… fuck… You can't make me go back, please. It's aching and I… I just need you."

His grip on your chin tightened and his eyes spat fire at you remembering how risky and precarious everything about this was.

"Shut up. Shut the fuck up and get yourself together. Stop acting like a needy slut and behave yourself."

He had expected you to be intimidated by his powerful words but something shifted in your expression and you glared at him a lot more confident now.

"I know you want it too. You can't lie to me, Joel. What's the fucking problem? We both want it and we'll feel better afterwards."

"The problem is that my wife is a few feet away from us and I think even you are smart enough to understand what's gonna happen when she finds out."

You bit your lip unaware of what it did to Joel and stomped with your feet.

"She's not gonna find out. We'll be quick."

Suddenly he felt the urge to wrap a hand around your throat and choke you until you would finally shut up and he knew he really had to get you away from him now because he didn't know what he might do otherwise.

"Go. Now. I'm not gonna repeat myself."

"Then don't," you shrugged your shoulders and suddenly pulled away from him. You leaned against the wall licked over your lips and then slightly, just about an inch, lifted the hem of your already inappropriately short dress.

"Y/n, I swear to god…"

"You can have it," you interrupted him brushing with your thumb over your soft skin while looking right into his eyes. "You just need to take it. I'll be at your mercy doing anything you want me to."

All Joel was capable of hearing was his own heavy breathing and all he could see was those perfect legs that he wanted to bite and caress so badly. And then a switch in his brain flipped and every rational thought was replaced by the need to claim you.

Without saying a word, he grabbed your arm and dragged you along, not caring if he hurt you. For some reason he was still so goddamn pissed. He probably projected the anger directed at himself on you just to have someone to be mad at.

Joel took you upstairs and then shoved you into his bedroom immediately locking the door behind him and raised his hand as you intended to speak up.

"Shut it. I don't wanna hear any noise coming out of your mouth, have I made myself clear? I'm gonna fuck you and use you 'cause that's what you asked for 'n' if I hear any complaining I'll be out of here."

You nodded with big eyes but it was clear that you were beyond satisfied with the way things were going right now. "Yes."

"Good."

He took a big step towards you, pushed you to the wall and then his rough hands started to undress you by pulling the thin straps of your dress over your shoulders. When the fabric gathered around your waist and your bare chest was revealed he let out a growl and rolled his eyes.

"Oh for fuck's sake, you're kiddin' me… You're tellin' me you walked around here with no bra on? Have you gone fuckin' insane?"

You slightly arched your back to press yourself closer to him offering him free access to your upper body, but Joel wasn't done yet and refused to touch you.

"You can't do stuff like that, y/n. Is it that hard to understand? I know that you don't care but I have a fuckin' wife, okay? And if you continue to walk around my house in front of her eyes dressed like a cheap little whore and throw yourself against me she's gonna find out. 'Cause she might not be as pretty as you but she's a lot smarter than you."

He didn't know what kind of answer he expected but as he didn't get one Joel just sighed and then finally took a closer look at your body and instantly felt more blood rushing to his center. He quietly cursed to himself and then roughly grabbed your left breast while rubbing with his thumb over your right nipple.

"Oh fuck me," he grunted his mouth coming down to your temple to kiss your pulse point. "That's all you're fuckin' good for. Looking pretty f'me an' doing as you're told. And you enjoy it way too much, babygirl."

He felt how you buckled against his hands and craved to just slide into you and pound into you until you were so tired and exhausted that you would stay still already. But for now he enjoyed how your breasts felt against his hands and contently listened to your little whines and whimpers that sounded like the sweetest piece of music to his ears.

Soon his jeans felt so tight around him that it felt like they were about to burst so he decided to change something about it.

"Get on your knees," he commanded you who looked like you were waking up from a delicious dream when he stopped kneading your flesh but instantly obeyed and quite literally fell to your knees in front of him.

For the first time Joel chuckled quietly and almost lovingly caressed your hair.

"What a sweet 'n obedient little toy I've gotten myself. You're just so eager to please your daddy, mhm? You think s'good enough? You think daddy will be proud of you for dropping to your knees like some filthy slut?"

Your round eyes almost questioningly stared up to him and Joel couldn't help himself and yanked your head back further.

"You're doin' this for everyone, huh? Are you also fallin' to your knees for your co-workers? For… what was his name again… Ian?"

Your bottom lip trembled looking intimidated but yet so eager to finally get to work.

"N-No. I only do it for you, daddy."

Joel grinned with delight at his view and then started to undo his belt.

"I know. 'Cause these boys wouldn't know how to handle you. They wouldn't know what to do with all of this, ain't that right?"

"Yes, daddy. Only you can do it, please. Please I need your cock so badly."

You had grabbed his thighs and Joel once again wondered how he had gotten so lucky. Not just the fact that such a lovely and pretty girl like you enjoyed getting fucked by an old man like him but you were literally begging him to let you suck him off. He couldn't highlight it too often, he was old. Way too old to have you in this position for him right now and definitely too old to be worshipped like this. Maybe he just wasn't the only one of the two of you that was fucked in the head. Maybe you actually needed him to degrade you just as much as he needed to own and ruin you.

"Stick your tongue out," Joel said, the horniness clearly showing in his voice.

You obeyed and this image of you kneeling in front of him made him realize that he wouldn't last long. He gathered some spit in his mouth and then let it fall down on your flat tongue.

"Keep it there," were his next words and he observed you precisely while finally pulling down his jeans along with his boxers so his dick was freed and Joel let out a satisfied sigh.

You clearly expected him to tell you to swallow his spit now and were narrowing his eyes when he instead reached to a drawer next to him to search for something. When he had found what he was looking for he turned to you again and pulled the hair tie on his wrist. Joel towered over you, collecting all your hair and then tying it back into a ponytail so it wouldn't distract you while you were getting fucked in the mouth. When he was done he curiously glanced in your open mouth and raised his eyebrows noticing that it seemed like you had accidentally swallowed his spit.

"M'sorry," you breathed but were cut off as Joel slammed his cock into your mouth and you almost lost your balance gripping his thighs to support yourself. He heard a muffled cry but he prevented you from pissing him off further by silencing you with his cock and observed your struggling with relish.

"There you go… So fuckin' desperate to get that slutty mouth fucked."

To say your mouth felt good around him was an understatement. It was his own personal paradise. This was the best he had felt in a while and if he hadn‘t been so close to coming already he would've stayed here forever. Your lips wrapped tightly around his shaft while your throat welcomed you so wonderfully that he knew exactly how much you savoured this as well despite all this complaining and whimpering.

The only thing that he still craved right now was to see you choke on his thick cock and perhaps even coax a few tears out of you and so he went deeper although it felt like there wasn't any space left. You wriggled and jolted away but Joel's hand was firm around your ponytail holding you in place for him.

"This is what you fuckin' asked me for so you're gonna take all of it until I'm satisfied. Just let it all out. S'alright if it's messy, don't you worry about that. It's exactly what daddy wants. I wanna see you realize what you are. A plaything… a stupid fuckin' doll."

He was so deep inside you now that it felt almost unnatural, and for a moment he was genuinely worried that he had pushed you too far, but when he slightly backed out you coughed and squirmed in his grip so he knew you were just struggling a little. Joel remained like this getting off on the way your eyes squeezed in fear every time he went a little deeper before pulling back again and perhaps he was an awful person for doing it but humiliating you and toying with your emotions just turned him on.

He wanted your powerless beneath him. Utterly surrendered to him and fully submitted to his touch. He wanted you dependent on him even if it meant fucking you during a garden party in his bedroom because he was the only one who could satisfy you.

The moment that he saw how you were getting used to his little movements inside of your mouth and stopped twitching he decided to teach you another lesson and thrusted in you with so much force that you let out a cry that was way too loud but luckily muffled by his cock.

"Shut up. I swear to god, I'll kick you out if you can't control yourself."

He fucked your mouth at a punishing pace now hitting the back of your throat every time and in any other case he might have felt bad just a little bit but today his frustration and anger at you took over and made him come to the conclusion that you deserved every last bruise and hurt after having begged him like that in his kitchen.

The noises the two of you produced were filthy and obscene and as was the picture. Your gagging and retching, the wet slapping of his balls against your face, the sound of his cock sliding past your lips and the drool and spit running down your chin and neck. Everything about it was messy and counted as one of the things that were only meant to be seen in dubious videos on the internet and most certainly wasn't supposed to be witnessed by his wife.

When Joel felt that he was close he unwillingly stopped moving and came to a stop in your mouth. Thirty years ago he would have bursted in your mouth, made you swallow every last drop, then fisted himself a couple of seconds and fucked your brains out but in his age he knew he wouldn't be able to get hard again that quickly after an orgasm. It pained him to pull back, his cock feeling like it was about to explode but the thought of splitting you open for him overshadowed the disappointment.

Joel pulled you up by your hair until you stood in front of him his eyes coldly running over the messiness that was your face.

"You know what I'm gonna do to you now?" he whispered harshly his hand coming down to wrap around your already abused throat. He watched with happiness how you almost weren't able to look in his eyes, your bratiness and cockiness gone, replaced by submissiveness and the need to please.

"No," you shook your hand grabbing his shirt when he pushed you towards the bed.

"I'll make you take every fuckin' inch of my cock no matter if you can handle it or not. I'll ruin that l'il pussy of yours until you scream for me to stop. 'Cause you're mine. You're mine to throw around and bend the way I want to and I swear to god, if you ever think about letting some of your little colleagues touch what's mine you'll pay for it."

You gulped at the intensity and filthiness of his words and doe-eyed, like there wasn't a thought in your head let him mandhandle you on your back.

"I'll break you down, babygirl. Piece by piece until I have you bawling your eyes out. How does that make you feel, huh? Bein' my fuckin' pet."

He was on top of you now pressing you into the mattress his hand still around your neck to make you stay still.

"I want it. I want it, daddy, I wanna be your toy. I want you to use me, please, do anything you want," you cried tears spilling from your eyes from how tense and needy you were for him.

"You poor little thing," Joel cooed his right thumb tracing the delicate skin on your neck while his left painfully twisted your nipple.

"I've made her all needy and weak for daddy. It's pathetic really. Think you're supposed to be laying underneath a man old enough to be your father begging him to destroy your cunt? You think that's cute?"

He pinched your nipple with more force than would have been necessary but he felt so goddamn angry at you that he just wanted to punish and hurt you. Push your boundaries and drive you further.

"Daddy," you cried out and widened your eyes when Joel placed a hand on top of your mouth instantly silencing you.

"Jesus fuckin' christ… You really are a dumb little thing. This hand's gonna stay here now."

With these words he finally drew his attention to the lower part of your body regarding your dress that was ruffled around your hips. Joel lifted the dress a little only to laugh at the lacy black panties that you certainly hadn't picked out coincidentally.

"What a shame," he mumbled to himself and before you could think about what he meant by that you heard a ripping sound and then felt cold air brushing over your labia.

Joel smirked at the way you arched, your hands reproachfully pushing at his shoulders but the big hand on your mouth prevented you from complaining about his way of undressing you.

"You wore them for me and so I get to choose what happens to them," was all he said and then while you were still narrowing your eyes at him you suddenly felt his tip at your entrance and then within a few seconds his entire length had entered you and a loud moan escaped your mouth that made Joel feel thankful that he had shut you up.

He knew that it must be a lot for you because sure, you were more than well lubricated, but he was huge and thick and even though this obviously wasn't the first time he had fucked you, you usually needed a moment to adjust to him.

But today Joel simply didn't care about the sex being comfortable for you because he pounded into you with no regards to your poor pussy being exploited like this. He took what he wanted, savoured your tight walls taking you with so much force that you were pushed up the bed with each thrust. If you wanted to complain you didn't stand a chance because his hand didn't leave your mouth for a second and so you had no choice but to take what he gave you.

Joel moaned in your ear growling whenever he thrusted back in and soon placed your legs on his shoulders pushing your knees to your chest so he could reach even deeper. The cease between your eyebrows deepened and your sweaty hands searched for his that was wrapped around your knees.

When Joel saw fresh tears escaping the corner of your eyes he slightly loosened the grip of the hand on your mouth giving you some space to greedily inhale and at the same time giving himself the chance to take pleasure in your pretty crying face.

"D-Daddy," you whimpered your whole body trembling with the need to come and at this point you were so fucked out, he knew you would do anything he asked you to do.

Joel was close, his cock beginning to throb and his view getting white. Before he could have a second thought and perhaps help you to cross the bridge as well he had exploded inside of you filling you up to the brim.

His head dropped to his chest his hands coming down next to your head to steady himself and then his thrusts in you came to a stop only little growls escaping from his mouth every now and then. Joel was at calm now, his body captured in a peaceful post-orgasm dizziness but you were obviously far away from it.

You were craving a release as well but instead of vocalizing your needs you just rocked your center against his leg that was now positioned between your thighs again.

"D-Daddy. P-Please, I-I was g-good," you stuttered nervously pulling at his shirt while Joel let out a frustrated sigh. He wasn't even able to enjoy this moment of quietude and although he had given you just what you wanted you were asking him for more.

"You think you were good? Think you deserve to come?" he spoke leaning down to you and tracing the outlines of your mouth with his thumb.

"I need to. Please daddy, I really need it."

"That's not an answer to my fuckin' question. I said do you think you deserve to come?"

You remained silent your face crumbling again but Joel was sick and tired of you crying whenever you wanted something that you didn't get so his hand closed around your chin once more and his face came close to yours.

"Drop the attitude, babygirl. Fine. You can come but you're gonna work for it so you see that you can't always get what you want by blinking with your eyes a few times and expecting daddy to do everything. You can ride my thigh and if you do it well you'll get off that way."

He instantly saw how disappointed you were with his answer because your lips formed a pout and your forrowed your brow. "But –"

"It's this or nothing and I mean it. Tell me if you wanna do it and if not I'm gonna leave right now. You can be glad I haven't already 'cause I already gave you what you wanted, you ungrateful little brat."

You were officially sulking now but Joel didn't care. He observed you waiting for an answer and then you finally swallowed loudly turning your head to escape his gaze and mumbled a quiet "Fine."

"Louder," he demanded and yet another sound of frustration left your body before repeating the word louder this time.

"Fine. I wanna do it."

Joel nodded graciously, rolled off you and then took his place with his back against the headboard of the bed his legs parted so you had some space to straddle his lap.

"Come over here," he guided you and you clumsily rose to your knees to crawl to him.

Of course Joel was aware of how affected you were by this denial, not just physically but also mentally but he wanted to teach you a lesson after all and perhaps next time you would act more responsibly and not beg him to fuck you during a garden party. He had desired you as well, sure, but he had had the decency to merely think about it and perhaps jerk off to the thought but not actually act according to it.

You were on top of him now, his right leg between your thighs but it was obvious that you had no idea what you were supposed to do.

"Christ…," he sighed resting his head against the headboard because he really hadn't planned to guide and talk you through your orgasm now but it seemed like that was exactly what he was about to do.

"Can't do it yourself?" Joel asked with raised eyebrows and the slight shake of your head while looking down told him everything he needed to know.

"Fine," he sighed and slightly moved up on the bed. "Hands on my shoulders. You're gonna need it to steady yourself."

He placed his hands on your waist pressing you down until you felt his muscular thigh against your slit.

"Now rock yourself against me. You're gonna want to stimulate your clit so you're gonna move your hips. Just do what feels good 'n then fuckin' come."

Perhaps it was the way you frowned looking all concentrated and focused on pleasuring yourself. Or how you kept pushing your hair back because it was in your face. Or how after a few minutes you let out the first little sigh almost looking off guard by how good it actually felt. Or perhaps it was just his own post-orgasm peacefulness.

Whatever it was, Joel softened up at the sight of you.

All of a sudden he felt the urge to embrace and care for you and it was now that he regretted not having done it earlier. You poor thing had to do it all by yourself after having been such a good girl for him.

Joel decided to at least help you a little and put his hands on your hips to guide your movements and according to your expression you hadn't expected him to assist you. But now that he did, his fingers softly dug into your flesh his thumb drawing little circles over your skin while he helped you rolling your hips.

"You like that, babygirl?" he whispered clearly not unaffected by the scene either and your eyelids fluttered threatening to close.

"Yes, daddy. I'm gonna come soon, I promise."

Joel sighed while moving the hair out of your face realizing that he really had pushed you far today. He lifted his leg a little higher pressing it against your center to create even more friction for your clit, feeling the slickness connecting his thigh and your pussy every time you rubbed yourself against him.

"It's alright. Just concentrate on how it feels, okay?"

Well aware that what you enjoyed just as much as being degraded was being praised, Joel softly smiled at you while drawing patterns over your thigh.

"You've been such a good girl for me, hon. The best. You know why I'm rough with you sometimes, don't ya?"

Feeling all submissive and needy, of course you nodded and held on to his shirt that for some reason hadn't left his body yet.

"I know, daddy. And I'm sorry. I know that I was bad."

"But now I want you to come for daddy 'cause you deserve it. Want you to soak my thigh and let go. I will be there to catch you, sweetheart, promise," he gently soothed you his face softening at the way you tightly gripped his shoulders as you picked up the pace.

"There you go… Doin' so well."

Joel patiently whispered sweet nothings in your ear encouraging you to chase your orgasm and when it finally happened he talked you through it his hands firmly holding on to your waist so you wouldn't fall over while his other hand once again muffled the little cries leaving your mouth.

"That's right… I know it feels good, babygirl. Such a good girl…"

At this point you were too weak to hold yourself up and collapsed on top of him, your head resting against his chest and his hands running up and down your back.

"Shh, honey," he whispered over your loud panting as he combed through your hair, which could no longer be called a ponytail as your hair stood in all directions.

"You good?" he eventually asked with the urgent realization that the two of you had been gone for way too long now.

He really didn't want to throw you out and disturb you in your exhaustion but once the others would start searching for you, things certainly wouldn't end well.

Fortunately you nodded lifting your head from his chest and in this moment Joel couldn't act all grumpy and annoyed with you. He had a soft spot for you after all and when these pretty eyes of yours looked at him as though he was the best person you had ever met he couldn't stay strong and hide his affection.

His mouth twitched as he ran a thumb over your chin and then leaned down to kiss you. Suddenly it was him who would have preferred to stay here in the bedroom a little longer but when he heard loud laughter from outside he was reminded of the risk of what the two of you were doing.

"M'really sorry, sweetheart, but we need to get back to the party."

You let out a disapproving moan and buried your face in his chest but didn't fight when Joel sat you up on the bed and adjusted your dress that was still ruffled around your waist. Only then did he remember what he had done to your panties and widened his eyes in shock.

"Oh fuck me…," he groaned rubbing over his forehead.

You couldn't walk around the house without underwear, and Joel decided this not only for your own safety, but also for his own selfish reasons. He definitely wouldn't allow you to dance and twirl around Ian, who clearly had more than friendship in mind for you.

Therefore Joel approached Kate's wardrobe and although even he felt very bad while doing it pulled out one of his wife's panties which he handed you without a word.

"Joel…," you began but he shook his head. "Just put them on."

You followed his order and then once he had also fixed his jeans he kissed your forehead.

"You good?" he asked again still a little concerned about whether he had been too hard on you but you nodded again giving him a shy smile.

"Yes. More than good."

Almost longingly he caressed your cheek and then turned to the door as if it was the final boss.

"Ready?" he asked tilting his head at you and you pursed your lips.

"No. But let's go, I guess."

Joel squeezed your hand gently pulling you with him to the door and then opened it.

[chocochiffonnn]

Love Box

➸ Pairing: Nishimura Riki x Student! Reader (ft.Jungwon of Enhypen)

➸ Word Count: 21k. (removed some parts)

➸ Synopsis: The Love Box was a sacred treasure to the students of Decelis Academy where students pour their heart to people they admire anonymously. One of your responsibilities as the Radio Club president was to read the letters from the miraculous box. You previously hoped to have the ideal high school romance, as you were one of the victims of the aforementioned Love Box. Things don't work out as planned, though, and you find yourself in a romantic turmoil again when the recipient of your letter returns from their abrupt absence. 

➸ Themes: Higschool lovers to strangers, to lovers again. Fic is set in Japan (though Enhypen members are included and have Korean names lol), heavily inspired from the anime Ao Haru ride, and that one romance J-drama I saw a few years back, and another fanfic of Riki that I got inspired from.

➸ Warnings: Reader gives in quite often, Riki is very much a tease but a shy boy at the same time, a sliver of that love triangle, tooth-rotting fluff, a lot of cursing, it has that field trip and jealousy trope thats so typical lol.

➸ Author's Note: its finally here! thank you so much guys for waiting and supporting my first ever full on fic! i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! its such a cute romance story!

➸ Taglist: @rikidaze @yangjungwonnie @iboughtnjz @murazbae @shi-toshi @tasnemluvs @btsreadss @katslv0nyu @wondash @honey-bunnysweet @opheliaas-stuff @sadgirlluvsmoney @saeeeee5 @sol3chu @firstclassjaylee @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia @jisel8 (i cant seem to find this user?? im sorry!!)

THE START OF APRIL SYMBOLIZED NEW BEGINNINGS—Something new, something marking the cherry blossoms that effortlessly tumble across your hometown's pavement. Spring, as though you'd call it. And in a country like Japan, evidently, such a season is highly acknowledged

Which, ultimately, led to the idea of dreading school.

During summer break, refusing to go home was in every teenager's nature.

During school, however, going home seemed like comfort more than it should be.

And so, the hustle and bustle of the city did not aid your restlessness, constantly fidgeting and tapping your foot against the concrete's sidewalk as you wait for the red light to turn green.

Once it does, you strap your bag just a tad bid closer and begin to walk.

Dreading school has rarely ran through your mind. Rather, you found it enjoyable, memorable, even. However, whenever it does, the cause of such is because of one thing only— your school's club.

Taking the role and responsibility of being an officer in your school's Radio Club does wonders. Your tasks were simple: aid the Journalism club and announce the daily announcements to the whole facility. The latter, included playing music recommendations from students via CDs that they'd send, and most of all, reading random love confessions from the club's confession box.

It was a sporadic idea that started a couple of years back, by the previous president of the club. The reason being was the Radio Club's diminishing presence. With but a few members, and on the verge of, "extinction" by the school, the club had to do something.

Which led to the confession box— the Love Box. The tactic had been effective, as during your freshman year, you went as far as tiptoeing to the club's room, slotting your heart-filled letter to the confession box to— someone unbeknownst to you now— and scurrying like you'd committed the biggest crime.

Something differed now, though.

And then, something inspired you to join the club the following year. It had already garnered a couple of members prior to you joining, but eventually, with your perhaps unknowing charm and slight knowledge in radio broadcasting (given your interest in them), you were soon given the position of vice president during your junior year.

You step into the asphalt building of your high school, it's gate accumulating a ridiculous amount of baby pink blossoms— one cascaded down your fingertips. You touch it gently. Something's different, because now, by all technicality, you are the president of the Radio club.

Which meant twice the responsibility, and twice the stress from wholeheartedly reading the letters from the Love Box.

As the president of the club, and taking it upon yourself to announce for the first day of school you arrived a couple of minutes earlier to prepare and rehearse the script at hand.

You made your way into the facility, to the room you've come to frequent during your free time. With the key— having been given to you by the previous president— you haphazardly and excitedly open the door.

It had been a little over two months since you'd step foot here, yet it feels indifferent as ever. You settled your bag somewhere, nearing the radio system, preparing, checking the sound, and testing it to ensure a smooth flow.

Then you go over your script, a couple of minutes pass.

fom behind the door, you hear the aimless chatter of the students. How their summer had progressed, little escapades and adventures, various topics that you could fathom.

Then, you tap the mic and finally spoke,

"The song for today is titled Cherry Blossom by Dept and Ashley Alisha."

Oh, I feel spring is coming And if you could be mine for the season I could show you why you need me, baby

"Happy first day of school, students of Decelis Academy! We're kicking it off with an upbeat song."

So if you're feeling lonely, dear Then throw away all other reasons You can blossom like the trees do, baby

"How is everyone's summer break? The Radio club wishes it was prosperous and enjoyable to everyone."

No, don't you know, like the flowers grow You can grow to have commitment, baby

"Now, we turn to a new page and chapter in our academic life. Leave the troubles and problems behind, and face today with a smile."

So trust me only if you're really okay to give me your love This might never come back again

"The assembly will begin in ten minutes, all students please proceed to the gymnasium."

And when the flowers bloom I hope that we can, too

" Let's all make this year a good one, everyone!"

And we'll blossom in love Cherry blossoms and us

"I seriously cannot believe you right now!"

"Hey— Ow! Stop I said I was being serious!"

When school rolls around, it is practically inevitable for random bruises to appear in your arm.

"I missed you too, Rei." You wince in pain, rubbing your arm. Following your radio announcement, the assembly, and the students settling down their perspective seats, you find yourself, well... In the very same classroom and section as your best friend, Rei.

Short and stubborn, an individual who has terrible eyesight but great knack in discriminating others— Rei was the perfect salt to your sugar, Clyde to your Bonny, hate to your love— she was anything and everything alike; your complete opposite.

If you do so much as take a liking to someone, her immediate response would be— he's short, he's weird, he's rowdy, why are his grades low?

And it didn't matter, for whenever you do end up taking an infatuation to someone, say that senior the previous year, who was practically the epitome of perfect, Rei would have nothing to say. So, in short, her radar is never cut short. She's strict, but protective in a way. And when she finds out no flaws, she's all ears and no mouth. She was practically like the little eyes to your blind body.

"As if!" Rei scoffs, she's stubborn, too. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you got a cat. I could've come over and we could have cuddled!"

You rolled your eyes, "As if, you'd pretend I didn't even exist and all you'd care about is the cat!" Rei snickers, "Totally."

You laugh, looking at the window. Despite the totally overbearing pressure on your shoulders as a senior, on the bright side, your classroom was located at the third floor. And by some random luck, your seat was right beside the window, making it easy for you to feel the breeze and comfort of the air.

Perhaps with such a view, you'd think way less of your future, your college, the career you aren't even sure of pursuing, your life and—

"You have to stop with that look." Rei cuts off with a scoff, "What look?" you practically shot back.

"Like the world is practically against you, like you're in a war or something." You look over her direction, she rolls her eyes, "Come on, let's go get something to eat to distract you."

And as always, somehow, she was always just aware of whatever the hell runs through your mind.

Melon bread, a milk bread, and a carton of banana milk were all you took from the school cafeteria. You and Rei head over to pay for your food when your eyes suddenly scan over a piece of fish shaped bread; bunggeopang. What once used to be your favorite— now, it had only reminded you a bit of something— an empty, hollow, hole. Once, it was filled to the brim with stars and colors.

You shoved the incredulous thoughts away. You're crazy. You immediately thought. Pondering over something that once lingered in the past. It was stupid, it was ridiculous, it was—

"It was him, I really swear it was!"

"Are you sure? You're probably just hallucinating."

"No, he's like, back or something, I heard."

A student abruptly bumps into you, causing you to stumble and lose your footing. Luckily, Rei grabs hold of your arm and stabilizes you, "You good?" She asks, turning her heel to curse at the said students, but you stop and reassure her otherwise.

"I'm good, it was no big deal." You laugh, brushing it off. Rei rolls her eyes, "I swear, students don't know how to watch where they're going these days." She says. You only laugh, paying for your snacks over the counter, "They really don't."

You leave the cafeteria, walking with Rei side by side. Not far away from it, you hear an assembly of boisterous screams and squeals on the way to your classroom. It hadn't perked of much importance, until a student who'd absent-mindedly walked beside you with a friend spoke,

"Who's back?"

"I heard Nishimura Riki's back."

You try your hardest not to puke, you really do. But the name that lolls of the tongue of the person has your mind running and circles, your stomach doing flips, and your mind tumbling in a jumble.

Who, exactly, was back?

"Nishimura Riki's back?!"

It was as if they could hear you.

You felt your soul parting from your physical body, it's remnants floating in the air to be taken for the gods as they laughed below, at your horrendous, terrified, alarmed face.

It was laughable, really. How you remained frozen, still, unnerved. It was impossible to move your feet, they weren't budging. The food you carried had felt twice its size— you really could not move.

"Hey, hey, are you okay? Why're you just—"

"Rei, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Rei was confused. But before she could do so much as to get a word out, you drag her arm across the hallway and lead her towards the other end with hurried steps.

"Hey— what are you doing! Our classroom's—"

And you lead her to somewhere a little more desert where the squeals and screams were still in line with your ears, but not enough to garner attention. You spoke, "I heard from them that Nishimura Riki is back."

"He's— What?!"

You nod, repeatedly. Twisting, turning, shaking your whole entire existence. "I just felt my body freeze up there, oh my gosh."

"What do you mean, he's back?" Rei repeats and you confirm her question. Nishimura Riki is back.

The Nishimura Riki— the person you dedicated your letter inside that Love Box during your freshman year.

Nishimura Riki— the person who was a friend, but more than a friend.

Nishimura Riki— the person who was less than a boyfriend.

That was, until he left to god knows where without a trace.

And now, he's suddenly back?

"Oh, the nerve he has to—"

"Don't." You interject. Rei's reaction was exactly what you'd imagine, and as much as it poses as a problem in your already anxious brain, you didn't want to make the problem bigger than it ought to be.

"It's... Fine." You say to Rei with a weak smile. It wasn't.

"Is it really, though? That bastard left without a trace, not even a single clue! And he has the nerve to come back."

You feel Rei's anger bubble up, though you couldn't fight back. You felt the exact same, a burning sensation coiling in the pits of your stomach. In the back of your mind, ran a million questions.

What is he doing back here?

Why did he leave with no so much as a trace?

What could he be doing that led him to disappear like a ghost?

Most importantly— how was he doing?

You hated yourself for even thinking of the latter part, yet much was true. As much as you ached to slap him in his face due to anger, part of you couldn't help but think how he's doing now. Is he doing good? Eating good? Taking care of himself?

But you keep it as a thought, partly because you know Rei would kill you if you do so much as voice it out, and also because why would you dare say something like that to the man who broke your heart?

"I know, but I've let it go, I promise." You muster up another smile. You haven't.

Rei looks at you, and despite already knowing the answer, she lets it go. "Are you sure?"

You nod, and she intertwines her arms with yours, "Don't worry, I won't let him get to you, I really swear."

Good, because if she doesn't, you feared you might be the one to come to him instead.

"Yeah, thank you."

Arm in arm you began to resurface and walk with Rei towards your classroom. The squealing had died down a bit, indicating that perhaps his obnoxiously still present fan base had gone off.

You heaved a sigh of relief, and headed towards your classroom, you could only hope you wouldn't bump into him. For today, tomorrow, and the rest of the year as well.

The bell finally rings, the teacher having had enough of their lecture.

It was lunch time now.

Today was like any other, despite it being the first day of school. Rei would go and eat with her club members, as you would head to the Radio club room and read some anonymous confessions placed inside the Love Box. It was a specific highlight of your day.

Some of the letters would contain random confession you had an inkling idea on who the writer would be, some would contain little notes for advice and you'd wholeheartedly offer it.

You liked to consider yourself a pretty good consultant when it came to relationships.

Of course, when it came to yours— that was a different question, and a different point altogether.

You make your way towards the room after waving a short goodbye to your friend, immediately putting the box inside and unlocking it with your magical keys.

As it had been the first day of school, you half-expected a bundle of letters to come pouring out. It was usually like this, a sudden burst of love confessions once the first day of school began, receding to occasional ones as the weeks pass by.

You were right, though, as your fingertips come into contact with one of the letters in a soft baby pink envelope, its color closely resembling cherry blossoms. A stupid, lovesick grin makes its way into your features. There were a couple more, some just plain white envelopes, some embedded with kiss marks and cute designs that you couldn't help but coo.

Over the course of lunch, you'd read over these letters, sometimes going through half, sometimes accomplishing the tasks of finishing them.

However, with today's bunch, it seems it would take you until tomorrow. You really had to call a meeting with your members for a rotation for the readings of these letters.

You make your way towards the radio system, setting it up once more and preparing the baby pink letter, its contents, delicate and fragile against your fingertips.

"Good afternoon, this is the Radio Club, we've finally arrived for the most awaited part of the day."

You smile,

"But first, let's play a song that was requested to me by a student."

You grab the CD, tuning it in and playing the song.

"Everything Has Changed but Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran."

As you read, you lower down the volume.

All I knew This morning when I woke Is I know something now Know something now I didn't before

"To the person I really love the most,"

And all I've seen Since eighteen hours ago Is green eyes and freckles and your smile In the back of my mind making me feel like

"It's a little bit stupid not admitting my feelings out loud and putting up a facade in order to confess, but this was the best I could muster, really."

I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now I just wanna know you, know you, know you

"But we've been avoiding like crazy each other these past few days, what could I possibly do? I'm scared of your response, scared of what you'll say to me. I've never felt anything like this before."

Cause all I know is we said, "Hello" And your eyes look like comin' home All I know is a simple name And everything has changed

"We aren't like this before, it's driving me insane, you know? I hinted all of a sudden that I liked you, and then you're in complete avoidance right after! It's scary..."

All I know is you held the door You'll be mine and I'll be yours All I know since yesterday

"Falling in love is scary... I do know of one thing though— I really like you, so, so, so much. I hope... This letter reaches you well, somehow."

Is everything has changed

You read a few more letters, playing along some of the recommended and handed CDs to you by your peers and schoolmates, ultimately reading enough as the bell rang once more and you had to wrap up and broadcast your final announcements.

You fixed your stuff, engulfing your thoughts in the letter you'd just read, feeling a familiar pit bubble up. The person the writer reached out to was in complete avoidance, in denial of their feelings. What a shame. You thought. You hoped, though, they are able to solve that problem sooner or later.

Lack of communication is hell, even worse than breaking up itself. You have no closure, have nothing at all. A sudden knock came upon your door, assuming it had been Rei, you mumble a short ‘come in.’ You hear the door creak, your back faced the person as you continued arranging your things,

"I'm almost done with this!"

"Hey, the teacher's looking for you."

A deep voice chimed in, one that’ defintely did not belong to Rei.

Rei's voice isn't that deep, that low, and raspy either. What? Has she caught a cold or something?

You turn around, only to be proven wrong. And then, the sudden urge to barf and flee returned within an instant.

Indeed, what was in front of you right now was not Rei.

It was Nishimura Riki, in the flesh.

"Ah... I see..." You mumble more so to yourself, panic rushing all over your body as you hurriedly put your notebooks in your bag. One came falling down, the rest following suit. You curse beneath your breath, kneeling down and picking it up.

You hadn't felt him come near, only taking sensation of it once of his hands aided you in grabbing the notebook, fingertips brushing against yours. A short electric jolt was sent through your spine, from your vision, all you could see were his veiny and long hands, stacking your notebooks and handing them to you.

Nothing else, not even his arms, his head, his eyes, nothing.

"Do you always bring this much stuff?" He chuckles. It was the first time you hear him chuckle in a year. The mysterious feeling appeared, the urge to puke having been long gone. Yet you don't answer, your own mouth betraying you and lacking to give some sort of answer.

Instead, you fixate yourself on your bag.

"Thank you." Was all you mumble, standing up once you were done and Riki follows suit. Finally, you gained the courage to take a peek at his features.

Not much has changed, really.

Except... His voice was way deeper, he was way taller, features more sharper than before.

Gosh. Is it really possible to change this much in just a year?

Perhaps it was just you thinking of such. After all, you have Riki memorized like the back of your hand. It didn't matter where he was, in a large and rollicking crowd, you'd be able to tell him apart.

Now, you weren't so sure.

A smug grin makes its way to his features. "You done staring?"

Well, he's still as cocky as ever, that feature of his remained.

You scoff, rolling your eyes, "As if." and brushing past him like air. You had to make him believe you were unfazed with his presence suddenly appearing with the snap of a finger. You had to make him think, "Oh, I wasn't such a big deal to her? That hurts."

As much as he was a bigger problem than anything else, you refused to back down.

After what he's done? Over your dead body.

"Why was she looking for me, by the way?"

You say, as your back faces Riki. You don't turn around, so you don't acknowledge the fact that he's already besides you, hands in his pocket, shrugging his shoulders. Stupid ass long legs.

"Something about me, I guess. Maybe she wants to reunite us?" The latter part of his sentence had a hint of mischief in it, but you were not having it. "That would be the president's job, not mine."

"And could you move out? I need to lock and close the doors."

"Woah, you've got a bit of a bite now, I like it." He laughs, following your instructions anyways and exiting the room.

“Anyways, thanks for that. You can go now, if you need to catch up on some things, please do so by approaching the class president.”

You walk away after locking the door, hurried and brief, fully intent on brushing him off. But Nishimura Riki stays grounded, walking alongside you, even having the nerve to place his unimaginably long hands atop your head and ruffling your hair.

It’s what he’s always done before, a habit of his which was dangerous. It didn’t help that there were students around, gaining you some questionable looks. “Stop that.”

“The teacher told me to bring you along. Not call you.”

Great. As if this was making the circumstance any better.

“I see, fantastic.” Sarcastic.

Riki pretended to feign hurt, teasingly poking his heart with a finger, “Ouch. I missed you too.”

“And I—“ you look at him straight in the eye, and he does the same. You frown, “Don’t. So stop acting so chummy with me.”

Behind Riki’s playful words, his eyes painted itself with something like… Hurt. But you must’ve been mistaken, because a second after, he was teasing you again. “You’re reaalllyyyy stubborn now. It’s cute.”

“Stop.” You say, distancing yourself from him just a bit as you make your way towards the teacher’s office. Riki doesn’t pry any further, opting to give you a playful laugh as he inserts his hands in his school pants.

God, if you hear him laugh again, you would go insane. As in— I miss your laugh, I wanna kiss you type of insane.

Which is not even good.

The two of you finally reached the office, knocking gentle and entering after hearing a come in from your teacher. Contrary to what you had been hoping, Niki was right. The teacher truly believing that you had now reconnected like old pals (deeming it as a situation which you are aware Riki left) and ultimately, putting you up against a situation you know you would regret in the long run— to help him catch up with tasks and work.

Which, how did that even make sense?

It’s the first day of school! He quite literally has nothing to catch up on. According to your teacher, however, most of the subjects would base and stem from your previous subjects during your junior year, which of course would naturally make it hard for Riki to catch up. That’s where you come in, apparently. The task was simple: tutor Nishimura Riki until he gets his ass settled down.

What, did he not do school in whenever the hell he disappeared to?

He doesn’t even need to settle down, its his old school! He knows every nook and cranny.

“It’s just going to be beneficial for the three of us, you two are already close so it won’t be much of a hassle to navigate through and help Riki.”

“Not clo—“

“Thank you, Mrs Koichi-san.” Riki smugly grins at the teacher, “I’ll make sure to listen well to Y/N.” Then he looks at you, smiling faintly. Though from the back of your head, it felt sarcastic and forced.

“She’s a great mentor, after all.”

Mrs-Koichi smiled. “Thank you, Y/N. I expect nothing less of you.”

There it was again. The overbearing expectance of something. Of course, there had to be something. You offered her a tight-lipped smile back. You couldn’t refuse, you couldn’t dare to do so now.

“Sure, Mrs-Koichi. I’ll make sure to fill Riki in on the missing tasks.”

As forced as it may sound, it didn’t feel too bad in the back of your head.

Perhaps it was just the little voices screaming inside your head, the little demon and angel bearing upon your shoulders. This wasn’t good. But at the same time, this was what you’ve been waiting for the whole time. It didn’t feel too good, though.

Riki and you turn to leave the office after a short bow, the awkward silence hanging in the air. Maybe it was only you that felt that way. Riki breaks the silence, “So… When are you available?”

“What?”

“I said when are you available, I actually do need catching up.”

You see his sheepish gaze, the way he reluctantly scratches the nape of his neck with his hand.

“You’re actually serious?”

He looks at you like some sort if joke. “Why would I not be?”

“Well…”

You ponder, but opted close your mouth. Riki is not the type to care about such stuff. Though you said you’d fill the words of expectations of your teacher, regardless of what you do, you’ve always pegged and known him the type to just not care at all. Countless have you tried to get him to care a little bit more about his studies, given the fact that he was part of the basketball team and being a fragment of that team meant having somewhat considerable grades.

He did, but he only ever does so much. Bare minimum, per se. Enough to have his spot kept at the basketball team, and enough to earn him a scolding from his mother the moment she sees his grade.

So, this was rather a surprise to you. “Um… When do you want to start?”

He grins, a glint of surprise feigning his eyes, “Are you free later after class?”

You think about it. Rei wouldn’t be too pleased about the situation at hand, but you are only helping Riki with his grades. After this, everything will completely dissipate.

Right?

“Yeah, sure. At the library it is, then.” You nod towards him, Riki smiles softly, suddenly ruffling your hair once more. “See ‘ya then.”

Then before you could even do or say something, he was walking off like the most nonchalant person ever. Like he didn’t just make your stomach tumble in agony, like he didn’t just capture a thousand, million butterflies and stuffed them inside your mouth and mouth saying— It doesn’t matter it feels like you’re pushing me aside, I still got to you anyways! Hah!’

“You’re stupid.”

“I know.”

“Knowing doesn’t count, I have to drill that into you— youre oblivious and stupid.”

“I’m not oblivious! Just stupid and— ugh. You know what? I don’t see the point in defending myself.”

“Good, because you don’t have much of a fight anyways.”

Rei scolds you.

As she always does when you end up making some sort of stupid decision. And by all decisions and every decision ever— This was your stupidest one by far. It had dawn upon you, how ridiculous the situation really is. You couldn’t justify yourself, what is there to justify? Your lingering feelings?

“I’m just helping him, okay? The teacher wanted me to do it.”

“And? Why couldn’t Mrs-Koichi ask like, I don’t know, someone from his class, like— the class president. I know she must have a major crush on him or something.”

You remove your hands from your tangled hair, the words picking at you. “What?”

“You know? Naomi. She’s always the class president in whatever class she’s in.”

“She’s the class president?"

“I mean, there’s no technical election yet from what I heard but it’s practically obvious. It’s like, a tradition at this point.”

Kazu Naomi.

You had no particular beef or dispute with her, except for maybe the fact that she was too perfect for your liking. Always at the top of her class, prim and proper— she was as pristine as a diamond could possibly be. Teachers rarely reprimanded her, students coo at the mention of her name. She was as ideal as ideal could possibly be.

During your freshman year, she’d taken a particular liking to Nishimura Riki, unbeknownst to you. She hadn’t done so much as to voice it out, but girl to girl, you fervently felt it. Felt the way she scooted a tad bit closer to Riki whenever she talked to him, felt the way she scooped a strand of her hair behind her ear in an attempt to make it look cute, the way she delicately spoke like a fragile little flower in front of him, attempting the most obvious things to try and get his attention.

And you couldn’t blame her, because she always had the means to do so. She was pretty, kind, outgoing, and confident too. Someone who’d perfectly balance Nishimura Riki’s stoic, stern, and ridiculously cocky demeanour. But, well, life takes surprising terms at times and by the end of it, the thoughts of them together were but a lingering fantasy for majority of the students' mind. Wondering, why you out of Naomi? Wondering, what exactly made you different?

She only do so much as let her admiration linger.

And you feel this very moment right now that it still lingers. But it shouldn’t matter, it was really none of your business. It really shouldn't matter, you think to yourself as you scribble down the possibilities of the two getting together given they are in the same class. It really, really shouldn't matter.

"I hope you know you're stupid and you know what you're getting yourself into."

Last period, you had yourself in a little frenzy. Minutes had felt like hours, and once the clock had finally ticked and it was time to go, you bolted as fast as you possibly could and fixed your things.

Rei sensed your hurriedness, and in no particular attempt to try and stop you, she just sighs and ought to give a warning. Which, ultimately surprised you as you halted to look at her, "You're not pulling me away or something like that?"

As what she'd always do when a guy doesn't pass her radar.

She just shrugs, "I don't really want you miserable and coming to me after. Or, have you miserable because you were too much of a wuss."

You just snort, "I suppose it wouldn't help if I tell you that— no, I don't really know what in the world I'm getting myself into."

"I know that."

"How?"

"I just do. Now go and help that guy get his shit together."

You smile, and with the heels of your feet, the tight clasp of your hands against each other, and a loudly beating heart— you just ran.

"What subjects in particular do you need help with?" You scan a particular textbook, a couple of books splayed across the table in front of you.

Beside, was Nishimura Riki who mindlessly rolled his pen around his fingertips. It was 3PM, a couple of hours before the library closes. Tutoring him for perhaps a single subject would suffice, two if you were lucky.

Riki hums to ponder, then he speaks, "Chemistry. I suck at it."

You nod, "I checked the curriculum, if it's right, I suppose we'll be tackling Intermolecular forces first." Riki nods along as you skim through the contexts of the chemistry book and handout for your grade level. It was not a particularly hard topic but succeeding these would mean to a new topic filled with computation.

You know it was Riki's waterloo, so you proceeded to explain such concepts in the most basic manner. You sat beside him, pencil in hand as you wave your hands around in an attempt to discuss the topic at hand. From your peripheral vision, Riki listens.

Albeit slouching, laying his head atop his hand and his arm resting lazily on the table, Riki listens. Silent, unnerved... Just attentive. Attentive of the way you mumble 'hmm' every time you messed a word up, the way you furrow your brows when thinking, the way you click your pen around.

He doesn't listen to whatever the hell that Intermolecular force is— he listens to you.

Unmindful of his actions, Riki's hands come to lose being astray as his left makes its way towards a strand of your hair— your bangs. His fingertips unconsciously move a strand of hair away from your features, an occurrence that makes you halt and freeze.

Riki soon realizes that he's done because he pulls back the second after, choking on his own words as he apologizes. "There was... There was something in your face." He defends.

You nod slowly, feeling the tinge of heat creep up your cheeks. "I see." Were all the words you can muster.

"I swear it—" Riki pulls back, "Don't bark up another snarky response, please god, no."

A sudden chuckle leaves your mouth, "What? Are you afraid of it or something." it was a rhetorical question, one that he answers, "Yes."

You eye him seriously for a second, then you scoff, mumbling beneath your breath, "Serves you right."

Riki gasps exasperatedly, "What?"

"I said, serves you right." You repeat this time, with a bit more force and weight as you dared to look at him, Riki looks at you with, surprised, but intrigued. "Are you... Mad at me right now?"

"I'm not. Why would I be? I have no reason to be."

Riki just snorts, poking your cheek ever so gently, "Why're you acting like that then?"

"Like what?"

"Like your boyfriend just left you or something."

Does Riki even know? It did indeed feel like that. It had felt like a thousand crumbling worlds was lunged at you, Riki doesn't know that. It did indeed felt like you lost a boyfriend— hell, you weren't even in a relationship.

You stay silent, choosing not to respond as you choke back your tumbling words that threatened to escape. Riki must've sensed this, because the very next minute, he was apologizing again. "Ah— No, I didn't mean it that way. Hey, are you crying? I'm sorry. Shit— fuck, I'm sorry."

It seems there must be some things that you cannot choke back. One of this, was your bulging urge to break down. Tears unknowingly flow from your eyes, Riki panics and takes out his handkerchief, closing the distance between you and him. He holds your chin gently, tilting it upwards and dabbing away your tears delicately. His face remained concern, apologetic, and stained with worry.

But he doesn't let you go, doesn't trouble with the way you gush your whole entire pent up, builded tears. Instead, he scoots just a tad bit closer, letting go of his hold on your chin and rubbing your neck with his left hand. He feels warm and indifferent.

And when you finally stopped crying, sniffling away the remaining snobs, did you finally look at him.

"Sorry, forget that happened."

Riki shakes his head, "It's okay... It's my fault, really."

You nod, agreeing with what he'd just said. "Can I— Can I maybe explain this whole entire thing to you?"

"After a year of leaving me out the dark? I don't really think so."

Riki looks at you, soft and tender, "I swear I have a reason and I don't want to get you involved. It's difficult, it's just—"

"And you know whatever it was I'd understand that."

Riki pauses, then he nods, "I'm sorry it's just... Everything at home makes it difficult for me to explain."

"Is it..." You tread carefully, "Is it something about your father again?"

Riki hesitantly nods. "It is, and we had to move to cities because of him being an ass."

You understood that part, "What about the sudden disappearance?"

At this point, Riki had not really let you go, still clasping your neck with his left hand and the other somehow intertwining with your hands. He rubs it with his thumb as he speaks, "I wanted to forget everything here, I thought I could. But I couldn't, I really couldn't. Especially not this and... Not you."

Something about his words felt oddly comforting, despite the fact that his initial intention was to eradicate perhaps even the smallest, fleeting moments with you. But you couldn’t blame him, not when his eyes this very moment lacked the particular mischief he always carried.

He looked at you with such softness, and it didn’t help that you were looking at him with those eyes.

Riki groans, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. “What’s wrong?” You ask him.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He lets go of his grip on your neck, rubbing his eyes, “Looking at you like what?”

“Like that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“I might just kiss you if you don’t stop.”

His words made you choke, turning your head around to avoid his gaze. “What the heck are you talking about…”

Riki chuckles, still caressing your hand with his thumb, “Sorry, might have gone too far there.”

Flustered, you turn your head around to smack him in the chest. Riki allows you once, the second time, he grabs hold of your wrist and drives it towards his face. Unconsciously, you open your palms and allow him to place it beneath his cheeks.

His cheekbones, sharp and defined. Riki was no longer a silly little boy who was the very epitome of the devil itself. Aside from his very notable physical changes in his features, Riki felt… More relaxed, composed, and less rowdy. Despite the fact that he’s always kept to himself even now, something about him, though not significant to some, something about him really shifted.

You couldn’t deny the fact that he is attractive. That was a given, a fact that was not only shared by you, but also perhaps anyone who saw him at a first glance.

It was stupid, stupid really. How you let him linger his fingertips within your proximity, how you let him let his gaze last a little bit longer because you liked it too. You liked it when he stared at you like that and nobody else.

Was that too selfish?

Riki hums, nuzzling his head further into your warm palm and closing his eyes. He looks at you, grinning, “You good?”

But he knew you weren’t. You know you aren’t. You were gonna explode.

Riki laughs, pulling your hand back and kissing the back of it, “Mmm…”

“Riki…”

He hums.

“What are you thinking of right now?”

“Me?”

You nod. “You’re doing all this to me and yet— I still can’t read your mind. I don’t know what you’re thinking of, it’s driving me insane.”

Sighing, you pull your hands back away from his grip and let it settle upon your lap, fumbling with the hem if your uniform. Riki raises his brow, shoulders relaxing as he leans back on his chair.

The words that came out of his mouth felt like the easiest thing ever,

“You. I’m thinking of you.”

“The limit of this functions is that as X approaches to—”

God, you couldn’t focus. This was your limit. Not the whole entire maths thing the teacher was gnawing away at right now.

“But well, this function here can never approach X. It’s a little funny, right? Imagine it as a situation of wanting to reach something, but you couldn’t because there’s an obstacle of some sort. That right there is the asymptote, and—”

You’re the function. Riki’s the X.

“And this function here goes on and on and on. It’s infinite, it always comes back, per se.”

You’re definetely the function.

“Pst, hey—“

Someone pokes you from beside, pulling you out of your ridiculous trance. It was Rei. “You good?” She whispers, concern tainting her features.

After telling her everything that happened yesterday during your little study session with Riki, needless to say, Rei was beyond baffled. Not so at the fact that you poured your whole heart and soul in front of the man she’d willingly curse at, but more so at the fact that Riki, according to your description… Differed.

Of course, she was rather upset at you for breaking your walls down that easily in front of him, but nothing really ever happened except for some explaining from his side.

At least, that’s what you told her anyways.

The fact that he held your hand, your cheeks, pulled you a little bit closer to him— All you deemed insignificant for Rei’s knowledge. And, well, she could partly see why you’re so absent-minded right now, though, not really understanding the complete reason as to why.

“I’m fine.” You muster a small smile towards her, giving her a thumbs up.

“That’s it for the lesson today, make sure your notes are all arranged, including today’s lesson. I’ll be collecting them later.”

Oh shit. You looked down your notebook. You weren’t able to write anything at all, just scribbles of random stuff, mind too preoccupied with everything all at once. You internally groaned, grabbing Rei’s notebook out of the blue and copying her notes as fast as lightning.

“It’s a little bit early to be announcing this right now, but I thought it’ll benefit you all.”

You pay no attention, continuing to hammer down your notes.

“In honor of the school’s parting gift for the seniors, the graduating batch, staff, and teachers of Decelis Academy will have a little field trip the following week.”

With that, students beamed at the teacher’s sudden announcement. Your ears perked up at what you’d heard, looking at Rei with a short grin along your face. She smiled back, “Are you coming?”

“Of course I am!”

Despite it being a little too early for a field trip for your academy, you weren’t really one to complain. That meant having two trips all in the same year, which is not bad at all. It had been weird for your school to consider a trip so early, but well, early vacation it is, you suppose.

After being given more details about the trip at hand, and finally stuffing in Rei’s notes in your notebook, lunch finally rolled around once more. All mentions of your absent-mindedness having gone down the drain as the two of you talk about the trip,

“You think we’re going swimming or something?”

“Knowing the school? We’ll probably do some history museum or—“

“Boring!”

You laugh, sharing the same sentiment with Rei. After a few more words, you say goodbye to each other and headed towards your usual— the Radio club room. Last night, you’d call a small meeting before school had started with the rest of your members. Starting tomorrow, there will be a random rotation when it came to the announcements.

Today, however, was your task. You did as you would during your usual days, organizing, reading some particular letters from the Love Box, and playing random music recommendations from the students.

After an hour of doing so, you checked the time: around ten more minutes before lunch was over. Taking this as an opportunity to buy something from the cafeteria, you scurried to fix your things and headed out from the room. Maybe you’ll get some milk bread again today, or whatever the cafeteria had available.

However, upon reaching the cafeteria, you saw there was no more milk available which meant having to go and buy from the vending machine just outside. It was a bit of a hassle, but with the urge and determination to buy milk, you headed out.

The vending machine was near the gymnasium, and it had been no surprise to hear sneakers and footsteps once you entered. Usually, during lunch, students would rather find time to play than to actually eat. Thus, you ignored the ruckus and proceeded to buy yourself some milk.

Then you heard it— the loud thudding and laughter.

“That was my point!”

Someone shouts, laughing along the people he was playing with. A ball bounces, you pretended not to care, slotting some coins to get your milk. Then the noise stops for a complete second. You supposed they were taking a break, you shrugged and placed the straw inside your drink.

As the straw neared your lips, something or rather— someone, took a sip of your drink first. It was swift, and two second later, your drink was no longer within your grasp!

Frustrated, and ready to curse at whoever the hell took your drink, you twitched your head to the side to capture the culprit.

Sweat beading from his forehead, his hair wet and disheveled. His cheeks are a bit red from all the running, clothes soaked in perspiration. He smiled towards you, sipping your banana milk dry.

You didn’t move, staring at him with a — are you serious?— type of face. He throws the banana milk to the trash, patting your head and ruffling your hair. The slight height difference was visible, you smacked his hand away in annoyance. Or maybe you were flustered.

“And that, was mine.” You argued, sighing and taking out a few more coins to get some more milk.

Riki's teammates all yelled something about playing one more round, to which he shouts, "Coming!"

He then turns towards you, "Are you coming to the field trip?" He says, you think about it for a moment. "Why are you asking?"

"I just want to know." Riki says.

You shrug, "Yeah, I guess." Then he grins, ruffling your hair once more and turning back to his teammates. "I'll just play again, see you later at the library?"

You nod, half-expecting him to not come at all. "See you."

Nonetheless, you head to class with a huge, stupid, lovesick grin plastered on your face that you tried your hardest to bury away, yet to no avail.

And from the corner of your eyes, you see her — Kazu Naomi.

"Riki! I was looking for you everywhere!"

Then everything washed down upon you, the grin dissipating, as fast as day.

Over the span of one week, you learned a few of the following:

1. Nishimura Riki hates anything literature more than he does math.

2. Nishimura Riki, once he’s up to it, is actually a rather fast and efficient learner. (though the situation is seldom)

3. Nishimura Riki told you your voice sounded nice every time you announced and that, according to him— he loves it when your voice is put up the speaker.

4. Nishimura Riki apparently is the eye-candy for many girls and guys alike. (not that it was anything new.)

5. The previous statement connects with the fourth— with one of those people being none other than Kazu Naomi.

6. Nishimura Riki and Kazu Naomi are close.

Regardless of the fact that all of these learnings centered around Riki, perhaps hinting you are a bit too observant when it came to him, out of all these, nothing pisses you off more than the last stament mentioned.

Well, it didn’t really matter whether or not hundreds of girls flocked over to his side, because he always did give off the plain, uninterested, boring response. It did however matter though when the person who flocked around is Kazu Naomi.

You see it.

You see the way she galloped around, attempting to join in conversations between Riki and his friend and the way she’d delicately. Delicately laugh and giggle like a sealion in front of him. And Riki would laugh, geniunely laugh, and put inputs of his own with keen interest.

Of course, you only ever saw during lunch. But if that’s what happens during lunch, then what more could happen inside the classroom? A classroom which, they sit next to each other.

Makes stuff ten times more troubling.

“Why are you so spaced out, chum? Help me with this question,” Riki abruptly says. You’ve earned the title of chum now, rooting from your words a few days prior— ‘quit acting chummy with me.’

You shake your head, “What was it again?”

Riki chuckles, pointing his pencil towards a problem. He was still sitting as lazily as ever, slouching and putting his arm on the table. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s this. I don’t get this.” You glance at the problem, before solving it on your own and—

Does Kazu Naomi still like her?

Or even worse, what if he likes her? He laughs without much of a care in the world whenever—

“Chum, what are you bringing for the trip tomorrow?”

“Hm? Oh um probably just some essentials. I won’t be bringing much, why?”

“I think you’re carrying the whole weight on your shoulder.”

“What?”

“I dunno,” Riki shrugs, swiftly taking your shoulders upon his palms and massaging it. “You look like you’re thinking of a lot right now.”

Tense at first, it doesn’t take you long to ease up into his palms. Riki had heavy hands, he massaged your shoulders with ease. “I’m not, it’s just, you know…”

You sigh, feeling to embarrassed to even think about such stuff.

“Mmm?” He tilts his head. “Know what?”

“It’s nothing.” You muster a small smile. “Really?” He was not having it.

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of me chum, you don’t have to, y’know.”

Riki offers you a smug grin. You scoff, slapping his hand away. “I’m right here in front of you. All yours, too.”

“As if. You’re getting too ahead of yourself.” You slap him in the arm, Riki dodges with ease. “You’re cute.”

“What?”

“I said you’re cute.” Riki repeats. This is what you absolutely hated about him. His absolute lack of being dishonest, his effortless ability of being straightforward, and deeming it as a harmless joke afterwards. Although it was a light joke, it never really is for your beating heart.

It didn’t help that his remarks of honesty is no light feat, either. Who even says stuff like that randomly?

Over the past few days you’ve been tutoring him in the library, you find that his words are either the most dumbest thing, or the most unbelievable thing to leave his mouth. This, being being the latter.

“If you’re trying to smooth talk your way out of physics, nice try.” You counter quickly, rolling your eyes.

“It was worth a shot.”

He shrugs, laughing along your seemingly disgusted face.

Unbeknownst to you, though is that Riki had actually meant every word.

You are cute.

If there is one thing you swore on earth during your freshman year, and ultimately the year after— was to never ever go back or to recall fleeting moments of you and Riki ever again.

Sure, it had been hard to ignore. It was everywhere, traces of where Riki had left off. Your old notebook, the school itself, your phone— most especially your phone.

You hadn’t much of the guts to recall particular moments in life where all you did together with him was chat until the sun rose, at ridiculous topics memes you’d come across. It was a fleeting moment altogether, more than enough to make butterflies float and panic in your stomach.

But a few months after, it was more than enough to make your stomach churn in pain.

So, ultimately, when you lost all contact with Riki, flooding his email and your chat with him had been your only options. Your conversation with him had been filled with messages upon message, some making you look outright desperate in hopes of reaching him and contacting him.

Halfway through your junior year, you stopped sending anything at all entirely. After being given an ultimatum from your best friend, and an abundance of scolding from your parents— chasing after a person who vanished into thin air really was not worth the time.

So you stopped, and you swore to never go back to it again.

Packing your things inside your bag as you played music, you felt your phone ping from your bed. You grabbed your phone, half expecting the notification to be from Rei, only to see the familiar name that pinged upon.

Riki.

His name was still the same as you’d left it, being too shy and embarrassed to change it into something more intimate once your relationship had gotten a tad bit deeper before.

You stare at his name for a minute, contemplating.

You opened the message anyways, excusing the chat for some sort of emergency.

Riki: hey

You: ??

Riki: what else are you bringing lol I feel like I underpacked

You: Why do you keep asking me this, I told you like a million times already

Riki: really? sorry, just wanted a reason to chat you then i guess

Your hear your heart thump against your chest. But your eyes scroll a little upwards, towards the thousand of missed calls and messages you’d left to him a few months prior. They all looked pitiful to even look at.

At this point, you should be mad at Riki for leaving them unopened. Texting you like nothing happened, like you weren’t practically begging to hear from him back before. It should be infuriating, but instead, it only leaves a bitter taste down your throat.

You hated yourself for being this understanding, for caring too much— for being too much.

You: Go to sleep.

Riki: wowwww i’m rather hurt! :(( be a little nicer pls

You: Stop teasing me, it’s annoying

Riki: and you like it, chum

You: I do not.

Riki: you do

You: No.

Riki: yes, i can see u blush whenever i get close to you its adorable

You: Stop being annoying.

Riki: annoying is my middle name

You: what

Riki: lol jus kidding

Riki sends you a meme of a cat that oddly looks like him, jumping around with a silly goofy cafe. His favorite little meme. Odd, it sends a little smile down your face, momentarily forgetting anything else. For once, you let him chat and annoy you to his heart’s content, hoping, wishing, and seeing the old memories pile behind the new ones.

After a night filled with countless memes and gifs with Nishimura Riki, the day of the trip finally came to roll around. Arriving to school early before the sun showed up, and finding it you are just as excited as others are.

Well, that was a couple minutes before.

But now, you’re not so sure anymore as you boarded your bus with Rei.

It wasn’t really such a big deal, given the fact that him and Naomi were classmates, and the bus occupied two sections and you were paired with a section you could care less about.

And, Riki, well… Their section was in a separate bus. It shouldn’t matter, it really didn’t. Not until, from across, you saw their bus. Then, you see him. You see her, too.

Kazu Naomi, sitting down the window seat with Riki beside him.

All color, excitement, and joy faded within your features. Suddenly, all you wanted to do was go home and wrap yourself with your blanket and talk to absolutely no one.

You had the free will to choose your seatmate, Rei was beside you scrolling through her phone. She sensed your dejectedness, and immediately asked whats wrong.

“I don’t know…”

You grumble, fumbling with your colored wristband. But Rei knows full well. Rei knows everything despite you not uttering a word. “This is about Riki again?” You nod, not even feigning innocence anymore.

She sighs, “it’s just for a few gut-wrenching hours, if that makes it any better.”

“You saw?”

“How couldn’t I? She had that stupid little creepy grin on her face,” Rei looked at you, pretending she was shivering. You laughed, “It’s impossible not to notice.”

“Right? And now people will notice, too.”

You groan dramatically, Rei laughs as she pats your back. “I can give him a beating later if you want me to, oh, and her too.”

“Please do the honor.”

She rolls her eyes, not prying into your antics any further.

Your phone pings, you pick it up.

Riki: you alright?

You stare at the text message of the boy, opting to respond:

You: I’m fine.

Then you look outside, towards his bus. Riki coincidentally does the same.

But you left it at that, a simple stolen glance, choosing not to say anything more.

The whole ride on the way to some Mt.Takao (why the school chose some random ass mountain to have the trip on, you could not understand), albeit having your entire existence soaked in worried, you tried your best to push the thoughts aside.

Upon arriving at the top of the mountain, topics of discussion of the activities were all you heard from the people around. Their chatters, even as you unboarded from the bus remained.

Something like team building activities the student council had planned out.

Upon placing some of your stuff in your assigned cabins, it didn’t take long before all the students were gathered once more around the area for some activities. It had been cold and chilly, enough for you to wrap some layers around your body, not too thick, yet not too thin.

Students gathered at the center of the cabins, you walked alongside Rei who was perhaps saying something about her newfound hobby a few days prior.

The student council led by their president— Yang Jungwon, had been in charge of the preparations for the activities and game. Teachers are left for their own entertainment around the mountain, though occasionally, some would check around and make sure all the students are safe.

You knew some of the members of the student council. Aside from the aforementioned president, their vice president, Park Sunghoon. A rather distant man, and someone who often kept to himself. You got to talk to him before after being assigned by the same teacher with a specific task.

Their secretary— Kazu Naomi. Enough information has been said about her. Needless to say, she’s not one to be painting a pleasant taste upon your tastebuds.

Their treasurer— Park Jongseong. A very particular but friendly man. He talked and greeted, and did not really keep much to his shell. You got to talk to him before, during a previous meeting of all the vice presidents the clubs in your school who are next in line for the president position.

Speaking of presidents, Yang Jungwon is a man you could rather say you are close to. As not only is he the president of the student council, he is also a part of the journalism club, one which your club assisted in broadcasting. Meetings and gatherings often led the two of you to communicate and eventually, a budding friendship had grown between.

“Everyone, gather round!” Yang Jungwon spoke, his members beside him as he calls the attention of the students. The two of you make eye contact, you give him a small smile, and he offers one back. You saw him often around school, but you don’t really have much of a real reason to talk to him that much yet given there was no collaborative works between the two of you.

“I hope the presidents of each class has done a solid headcount,” Junwon confirms with the rest of the presidents, proceeding once he got the affirmation.

“We got a couple of activities planned for the day before we all take time to rest.” He announces, “Your wristbands given to you are the assigned groups you’ll be working with for today’s activity. You can proceed to team up with them, and each group will be given an assigned facilitator from the student council.”

Your wristband was blue, Rei’s was yellow.

You parted from your best friend, looking around for possible teammates as the students clamoured and shouted, in search of theirs too. Eventually, you spot a group of people in blue wristbands gathering up, you hurried to join up with them.

With a gentle smile, you come and greet them politely. “Hi.”

They say hello back, you settle in a small chatter with your teammates as you wait for the others. After a few minutes, soon enough, your group had finally been complete. You scanned around, looking for Rei… And maybe Riki as well.

“Y/N, I’m here! Goodluck!” Rei shouts from your peripheral vision, you wish her goodluck. Red team… Blue… Green… Black—

Oh.

Your throat felt dry immediately. As if the occurrence at the bus hadn’t been enough, Riki really just had to be at the team where the facilitator is Naomi.

It isn’t a big deal, it really isn’t.

But it had been a sentence that ultimately, had no effect upon your already jealousy filled heart. And much like the gloomy weather that sounded of rain, the same feeling remained.

You make eye contact with Riki, he smiles, holding his thumbs up— asking with his eyes if you are okay. You are about to respond when, “Y/N! You’re in this team?”

You turn around to look at the person, it was Yang Jungwon. With a friendly smile, you nod. “I am! Are you the facilitator?”

Jungwon nods, making small talk that rendered you unable to respond to Riki’s little sign if concern. And eventually, you’d forgotten all about it.

The first team building was simple. Upon receiving enough information from the student council, you found that they had went here a day prior in order to prepare for the activities. The task was straightforward: complete each checkpoint assigned as a team, with the said checkpoint containing a map leading you to your final goal.

Albeit not having the most extroverted personality, you find yourself getting along with your teammates just fine. And, after a few more chatters, a horn finally blew indicating the task had begun.

It was a bit of a chaos, students roaming and shouting around in excitement as you got lost in the depths of their conversation.

It didn’t bother you much, really. Your teammates are a nice bunch, making small talk and jokes. It seemed all of you shared one thing in particular— in no specific mood of being competitive and just enjoying the entire trip. But that hadn’t meant you wouldn’t complete the task, given that Jungwon was your facilitator and he was encouraging everyone like crazy.

“Jungwon are you sure you don’t want to tell us where the checkpoint is?” You ask him, breatheless sighs came upon your lips as you took another step. God, this mountain was hefty.

Jungwon laughs, shaking his head. “No, then that would be no fun, would it?”

A teammate of yours, Kim Sunoo, joins in the conversation. “You’re always no fun! Come on tell us so our team can win.”

It doesn’t take you long before your group began persuading Jungwon into divulging some hints on the whereabouts, but to no avail. He was as sturdy as a rock.

You sigh, taking another step towards the soil, completely unaware of your feet getting stuck on some thorned plant. One foot in, the other falls backward and trips on the soft, mushy soil immediately. Suddenly, you feel a jolting pain pulsing on your ankle and you could not move.

Jungwon was the first to rush to your side, “Hey! Are you alright—”

“Ow.” You groaned.

Your teammates gathered round upon hearing the sudden fall, concerns written among their faces as they fumble and ask if you’re okay. Jungwon holds them back a bit, “Guys, she might need a bit of space right now. Can you stand?” You attempt to, raising your right foot but ultimately failing to do so with the left as the same pain comes crashing through. “Fuck.”

Luckily, Jungwon immediately catches your slightly falling figure within his arms, settling you down a large boulder instead. “Easy there, did you feel something break?” He asks with concern, you shake your head.

“I don’t think so…” The blood that trickled down your calf was evident enough. “I got my pants wrapped around the thorn, it hurts.”

You try not to look like a wuss but the pain that wraps around your calf was immense. It was taking all your power not to cry in front of these people, let alone talk. Jungwon pauses for a minute, contemplating. Then he spoke,

“We’re not that far off from the first checkpoint, you see that light over there—” He points towards a visible light not too far off, “That’s the first checkpoint, you guys continue to go North and we’ll follow after.”

Looks of hesitancy and questioning bubbled around. Sunoo spoke, “We can’t just leave you here, it’s hard to split up in such a place.”

But them staying here would absolutely be useless. You wouldn’t want to jeopardize the team’s chance behind. “I’m okay, we can’t all stay here. You guys go and get our first checkpoint and we’ll meet up soon after.”

“But—”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry, it’s just a small wound, go.” You cover up the bloddong with your right hand, Jungwon comes to your aid, kneeling down and inspecting the wound.

“Sunoo, you go lead the team up, then come back here after.”

Sunoo, looks around, then eventually nods. “Let’s go.”

He leads the team around, the rest of them following him in search of the first checkpoint. Meanwhile, you finally wince and groan meekly in pain. “Can you lift your pants up?”

You nod, lifting part of your calf and showing him the bloodied part. The thorn that you came across upon, was pointed and tall, making it easy to skim through the insides easily. Jungwon nears the wound, touching it ever so slightly. You wince, “That hurts.”

“Sorry,” He says without looking up, grabbing something from his pocket. “I didn’t think an accident would happen here, I forgot my first aid down the cabins…” He mumbles, patting your wound with his handkerchief very delicately.

You protest, “Don’t use your handkerchief.”

He looks at you, “Why?”

“It’ll get dirty and bloodied, I don’t want that.” You mumble, Jungwon merely smiles, “It’s fine.”

“But—”

“I have plenty more, besides, we need to somehow clean up the bleeding.”

Nodding, you argue no further and let him clean up the wound. It wasn’t such a big mark, but it was enough to have Jungwon off the edge and tainted with worry. “You seriously have to be more careful…”

He says, taking something from his pocket once more. A small ointment for wounds. “I thought you didn’t carry your first aid kit?”

“I got a little restless and brought a little something from the first aid kit.”

You chuckle. Always so meticulous and prepared. “I see…” Jungwon folded a piece of his handkerchief, using the other side to dab some of the ointment on.

You suddelt felt something cold fall atop your head, continuous droplets of water cascading down. You reached your hand out— it was raining. What perfect timing. The light droplets soon began to turn into a heavy onset of rain. Jungwon looked up, “I also totally felt it would rain today but I completely disregarded bringing an umbrella.”

He sighs, you stand up slightly, thanking him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

With a nod, “It’ll heal itself.” You smile towards him. The rain wasn’t letting up anytime soon, soaking your bodies with water as it grew heavier each passing second. The fog and the bluriness suddenly came into light, and the spark that Jungwon once pointed out towards to be the checkpoint, was gone.

“Fuck.” He curses, “I didn’t think the rain would be this heavy.”

“We need to get under a roof or something first.” You hurriedly say, adrenaline rushing in as you took his hand and led him somewhere, “What about the others? They might be looking for us.”

“They have to manage, we might slip or something in this steep place if we don’t get ourselves under something.”

Jungwon eventually agrees, allowing you to take control of his hand and leading him somewhere. Albeit having the placed familiarized with at the back of his mind, he chose not to spoke, chose not to tell you that the others are probably not looking for the two of you and opting to find shelter instead.

He stays quiet and just lets you.

Soon enough, you see a small pile of boulders and rocks not too far off, forming a rather gigantic cave with nothing inside. Deeming it as safe, you entered and checked the surroundings. “Are there like, bears here or something?”

Jungwon laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, at least not that I know of.”

He shakes his hair around like a puppy drying itself, the water hitting your face as you chuckle and smack him, “Careful!”

He laughs along, raking a hand through his hair and sighing. The two of you were soaked beyond belief, your clothes sticking upon your bodies like candy. And well, from your peripheral vision, Jungwon’s shirt clung to his particularly molded abs.

You tried not to take a peek, you really did. You always knew Jungwon was a rather active person, but you never knew he was this active.

“What?”

“Oh? Um—” Your eyes stray upwards, only to find him tilting his head at you innocently. “It’s… Nothing.”

You had to stop thinking like a complete pervert.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? Your leg…”

“It hurts but hey, it happens.” You smile at him gently, squeezing the bottom of your shirt to drain some of the water out. Jungwon removes his flannel, putting it down and patting it, “You can sit down if you want.”

You thank him, sitting down and sharing a flannel with Jungwon as you patiently waited for the rain to let up. It had been a comfortable silence, one that was neither heavy nor awkward as the only ruckus the two of you heard was from the pattering rain outside.

Gently heaving a sigh, you hug your knees close to your chest, feeling apologetic. “I’m sorry, Jungwon.”

“Why’re you saying sorry again?”

“Our team got disrupted because of me and now got stuck in this place together because—”

“Hey, don’t say that.”

But you continue, “Because I was careless as hell and it’s—”

“Y/N.” Jungwon says sternly, gaze locking onto yours. His eyes held sincerety and firmness, “Stop saying that, accidents are bound to happen and it’s not a big deal.”

His words doesn’t let you up. A wave of comfort washed over you as pondered over what he said. It hasn’t sinked onto you yet, the subtle glances and hint he shared and offered.

“Thank you then.” You smile at him, Jungwon smiles back.

You hadn’t noticed an hour had passed, aimlessly chatting with him on topics that regarded school and anything casual, really. Jungwon is a nice guy, flowing along a conversation with him and sharing a good laugh wasn’t difficult. He understood too, listening earnestly at your little stories and concerns.

The rain had finally let up, you offer Jungwon to leave the cave and go find the others to which he agrees. He gets his flannel back, and the two of you leave the cave as the the sun rose back in its full glory.

You were laughing about something he said when— “Look, it’s a rainbow.”

You turn to look at the sky. Its colorful hues paunting a beautiful curve, the bright colors of a rainbow coming about. Smiling gently, you walked alongside Jungwon as you looked out the rainbow. “I swear, I thought your team wasn’t gonna make it to the next round.”

Pertaining to one of the sports club matches in taekwondo, you turn to look at Jungwon. It was a few months prior, with their competition being held at your academy and seeing the sparring in full play. Jungwon was one of the players, and that was the first time you ever saw him kick and discover a side out of student council.

Jungwon chuckles, a sheepish grin on his face. “I had like a huge bruise on my cheek after that spar, though. The opponent violated some rules.”

You nod, “I saw that too, good thing you didn’t let him get the best of you.”

Jungwon leads you through a forest of trees, after a few minutes of walking, you finally reached the cabin your school settled upon. The different colored teams were there, some had been soaked just as the two of you were, some held little flags, indicating they reached a particular checkpoint before turning back because of the rain.

Your appearance with Jungwon was no shocking thing, but you feel a presence inching closer towards you as you neared the rest of you group.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You turn to look at the voice, Riki was right in front of you, with eyes you’ve never seen him in before. Was he… concerned?

“What happened to you? Are you okay?”

His gaze fell upon your legs, the calf that had been riddled with ointment and once had blood dripping down. “Chum, let’s take you to the clinic, your wound—”

He kneels, reachinng towards your injury. But you stop him, “Riki, I’m fine, it’s no big wound, just a little scratch.”

“Just a little scratch? You weren’t answering your phone, did something happen?”

You remembered leaving your phone at the cabin, opting not to bring it with you as you might lose it. “I didn’t bring my phone with me…”

“Oh.”

Riki nods, standing up. Once more, you were reminded of just how much his figure towered upon you, and it made you feel a little small. Jungwon remained by your side, casually conversing with some of your group and ensuring the students. The student council worked on crowd control, deciding soon enough to halt the activity first and get the students to freshen up so no such accidents will occur.

Side by side, you walk with Riki on the way to the cabin in silence.

“Y/N!” Jungwon calls from behind you, “I can’t go back with you, is it okay if—”

“It’s okay Jungwon! Thank you for helping me this much, I’ll get myself cleaned up.”

He smiles, nodding along and proceeding to his own things to tend to. Meanwhile, Riki listened to your conversation, his interest piqued. ”Jungwon helped you?”

You nod, grinning. This doesn’t escape him, “We got stuck in some cave during the rain, if it wasn’t for him, I would’ve been badly hurt by now.”

Riki just hums, voice deep and low. The sun was finally beginning to set by now, and the students are heading towards their perspective cabins to freshen up. Thankfully and oddly enough, you shared a cabin with Riki.

“Are you alright now?”

He looks at you, you only nod.

“That’s good, there’s no need for concern then. Looks like already had you under his care.”

You sensed a bit of tension beneath his gaze, the way he let it fall to your sides, to your bruised ankle, and eventually to your face. Riki spoke bitterly, “I’m going.”

Leaving you lost and dumbfounded, Riki leaves and walks on over to his room with no so much as another word. It fazes you, disappointment panging your heart as his broad back faced your eyes.

What was wrong with him?

For the rest of the budding night, you tended to your wounds more carefully with the help of very worried Rei who scolded you on safety and watching your own step. The breeze was already chilly, you had freshened up for the remaining time, so had Rei after the two of you chatted aimlessly. Riki pierced the back of your mind, like a little monster encaged and desperate to be unleashed. He was acting like nothing, like thin air. Concern was evident in his tone, then suddenly it all dissipates and he suddenly doesn’t care?

Eventually, it was time to gather outside for a little bonfire and meal prepared by some of the staffs and teachers. With layers of clothing wrapped around your body, you headed out with Rei.

By the time the two of you are out, Jungwon was already making rounds of each class with the assistance of the teachers to make sure of the headcount of each class. For the night was still early, only announcements were made, the bonfire would begin around midnight when the sky’s hues are completely washed out.

You didn’t seem to take hold of Riki’s eyes though, eventually landing on Jungwon and him giving you a thumbs up. You put your thumbs up too, initiating a little smile.

For the rest of the evening, albeit trying, attempting, to capture Riki’s eyes with yours, nothing seemed to work. He was ignoring you, that much was obvious. The reason why, too. But you know you couldn’t jump to conclusions, knowing full well you had nothing well going on with Riki, much less— Jungwon.

It was a risk of an assumption you weren’t willing to take just yet. It is, of course, just an assumption after all.

10PM hits, and all students were once more called to start the bonfire. It had already been set, with logs circled around the piles of woods to be set on fire. You sat down on one of them, watching as a teacher lights the wood and other materials on fire. A small explosion, one that causes a few of your peers to jitter ever so slightly, but you just stare at the fire, absent-minded.

It didn’t blind your vision when its orange, yellow, and red colors are a lot more closer to your eyes. You just gaped at it like some sort of fish.

“What are you thinking of again?”

Rei asks, picking something from her bag; A little smores kit she’d packed for the two of you. You sighed, “Have you noticed? Riki’s been ignoring me.”

“He has,” Rei picks a stick up, stabbing a marshmallow. “I thought you were fine just a moment ago?”

Shrugging, you took a stick and made one yourself. “Yeah and all of a sudden he just started… Ignoring me.”

Rei picks up and pieces the situation together, from earlier this morning to the present. Then she said, “Oh my gosh.”

“What?”

Rei covers her mouth. shock beyond belief. “The two of you are so stupid.”

You feigned offence, “Okay, now you’re just being rude.”

“No, I mean did you ever notice?”

Rei waits for your statement. Even if you know, you share none and kept your mouth shut. “I know you know, so go talk to hin right now.” Rei knows, as usual.

The beating of your heart goes a little louder at her statement as you consider it, as you consider him.

And when Rei pokes her smores near the campfire as students do the same, she knows you’re no longer beside her in search for the man.

It doesn’t take a genius to wonder where Riki was. He wasn’t inside the cabin, neither was he out enjoying the camp fire. Which meant he probably roamed around a little somewhere, though not too far.

The light on some parts of the mountain was dim, but enough to provide you with sight as you willingly searched for him, a marshmallow and a stick still intact in your hand. What would you begin to even tell Riki? To stop being such an idiot and notice you again? To tell him that, no, whatever he was thinking of was wrong and you wouldn’t dare to think of him that way.

To tell him you absolutely adore the smitten looks on his face whenever—

Crack.

It happened all at once, something exploding and something like an explosion of one’s emotion—

“I like you, Riki.”

Then it showed up, the fireworks, obnioxiously coming into place like you were in some sort of cinematic film.

“I know we haven’t been on such good terms before, but we can continue where we left off and—”

And— nothing at all. Because the next moment, you were no longer eavesdropping. You were stumbling, choking back your tears as you stood on heavy ground with a heavy heart. Your footsteps felt like tumbling and stepping on tons of weight as it plodded through the thick grass and soil. You didn’t care that they’d possibly heard you.

There was nothing mistaking it. That was definitely Kazu Naomi. It was definitely her, Naomi’s soft, gentle, heart in her sleeve— confessing to Nishimura Riki. Nothing else mattered anymore, you weren’t going around to stick to whatever it is he had to say anymore. What else was there to see?

At the ripe age of fifteen, everyone deemed it to be the perfect little time to be loved and to love.

Blossoming through the ripe seasons of spring when everything began anew, for some odd reason, you never find yourself aching for that same desire at the age of fifteen.

Until you met him, of course.

It was just a short-lived moment, one that could pass as forever.

The gym was noisy with the dribbles of heavy ball and the scraping of the shoes. You were not inside, rather, outside of the gym chatting away with Rei and striding alone.

And just like any other typical highschool romance, his ball had to come in play.

Nearly hitting you, Rei once turned around to scream go to hell to whoever threw it. Out came Nishimura Riki, a fellow schoolmate. He was the same level, same grade, and year as you.

His apology barely scraped as a whisper, a short, “Sorry.” Before heading back in with the ball in his hand.

Such a petty though, he was cute.

Though during the course of a strange destined interactions, you find him to be quite the opposite. He wasn’t avoiding saying sorry, simply just thinking the barely audible sorry would be enough. That was his trait, his feature which made him had this mysterious aura around him.

Nishimura Riki was no stranger to attention. He always did well in his sports, had the face to pass as a model, and the unique, mischevious vibe around him which made people adore and become curious of his nature. He shared what was necessary, choosing to respond with, “Cool, mmhm, yeah, s’good.” every single time, in situations where he had to agree.

It bundled all together, the bitterness for refusing to be in love at such a young age, and budding into something of a hopeless romantic.

And really, that was where it all began.

You were thinking now, though, that this right here might be the moment where everything actually ends. It felt way worse than when Riki left without a word and explanation, it felt way worse because the situation in the end made you realise that every twist and turn would progress to absolutey nowhere because Nishimura Riki is already here.

Right now, though, the two of you are blatantly ignoring each other.

It all started all the way home upon witnessing their scene, from then on, everything dismaying thing soon followed. You ignored him, he ignored you. As petty as it sounds, that was how the situation came to be. Your tutor sessions? Bullshit. He doesn’t come anymore, you don’t ask about it, either.

Everything was back to where it used to be, where Riki used to be out of the picture.

One moment, as you were doing your daily tasks in your club room and reading some love letters from the box, a certain bright red envelope piqued your interest. It had that certain allure and brightness that made it stand out amongst other letters, it was scented too.

Curious, you open the envelope and read it.

“A situational problem goes like this—”

What an interesting way to begin a love letter.

“Being interested in someone, but you have not yet pursued the idea of a serious relationship. Then all of a sudden, everything bursts and you go jealous over another and ignore them becauss of your petty emotions. What do you do?”

That was the end of the letter. No confession, no emotions pouring out. Just… A problem waiting to be solved.

“Well, this was a pretty short letter,” You say into the speaker as you analyze the content, “Hmm. Let’s say you were ignoring that person because of jealousy, does a person know you are jealous in the first place?”

You continue, “The first thing I thought of is to immediately make sure there is no misunderstanding involved in any sort of situation possible. So, you can ask them if there’s a problem, and if there is, you explain as best as you can. Jealousy is inevitable and ensuring that maybe your future partner does not overthink, then you explain regardless of your status in the relationship. We don’t want to break the trust now, do we?”

You ended the problem with a bit more solutions, stating some unlabeled personal problems of your own. And after reading a few more letters, you finally got ready to pack up and leave for class.

“Would you get mad at me if I said I was jealous?”

Fucking— Wha—

“Oh my gosh! You scared me!”

It hadn’t occur to you that somehow, Riki sneaked his way inside the room. He was standing in plain sight, in front of you. Uniform unbuttoned, hair disheveled and wet as if he’d just gotten out of a game. His breath shook a bit, but his presence toward you remained unnerved.

He repeats his question, “Would you get mad at me if I said I was jealous?”

“Riki what’s this all about, I need to go to class—hey!” You attempt to bypass him, but he holds your wrist before you had the chance to do so, his figure leaning downward and you visibly panicked.

He was eye to eye now, holding both your wrists with one hand as he waited for your answer. God, the distance was insufferable, it wasn’t too close but it was close enough to have his breath fanning over your face. Not to mention, his glossed eyes which awaited for an answer.

“Let go of me, I need to get to class.” You protest.

“So? We’ll both be late together.”

You gasped and attempted to smack him with your constrained wrist, his laughter bubbling and reaching your ears like melody. “You’re not answering my question.”

“Ah…”

You think about it for a moment, piecing the puzzle piece by piece. Was he the one who wrote the letter?

“Are you… jealous though?”

“I am. I really am.”

What?

“Was that your letter?”

Riki deadpans, then laughs, shaking his head. “My letter? No, I wouldn’t do something like that it’s—”

He sighs, “It’s stupid. Yes it was mine.”

“Huh?!”

Slowly, Riki comes closer. Closer, closer, closer, until his head rests atop your shoulders and his nose nuzzled upon your neck. The action made shivers run down your spine, a gesture that was too close for comfort and had your fingers hesitating and your body on edge.

Riki gently places your hands down, taking one in each of his hand and caressing it gently as the sweet scent of your neck comes rushing down upon him.

“God, you drive me crazy, you know that?”

“How…”

“I haven’t stopped liking you since I disappeared, I just couldn’t forget you and—”

He sighs, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Riki what do you mean…?”

“I get jealous so easily it’s driving me insane.”

Something about his words knocked something within you, his fingers deattached from your wrist down to your waist where he hesitantly wrapped his arms around, only to pull back. “It’s okay.”

You reassure him, he places his grip back on your waist, yet leaving a safe distance. “Do you like Jungwon?”

What?!

“What do you mean? What does Jungwon have to do with this…”

“Do you like him?”

You answer immediately, “Romantically? No. He’s Just a friend, Riki.”

You feel Riki’s constrained breath sigh ever so carefully, as if that weight was upon his shoulders for a little while now, as if he’d been thinking of asking that for years, just waiting for the perfecr opportunity.

“Then it’s okay if I’m doing this, right?”

Riki tightens his group around your waist, pulling you dangerously closer. Riki’s scent engulfed your nose, he was all you felt, all you smelled.

“That I’m holding you like this…”

His fingers then came upon your cheeks, caressing it, “Touching you like this…”

He pulls his head back, looking into your eyes with a glossed gaze, “Looking at you like this…”

“Keeping you close like this?”

He rubs the small of your back with his thumb, the way he moves make everything so electric. You know it was second nature to him to speak this way, to act this way. It wasn’t anything new, but it still sent shivers down your spine.

“I don’t know Riki… What are you doing..?”

Riki finally lets go, you fought the urge to frown at the loss of his touch. He stuffs his hands into his pants pockets, “That time at the trip, I saw the way Jungwon looks at you, the way he cares for you, chum.”

His nickname for you was finally back. You internally squealed, you might have pounced upon him if not for your self control. “And it’s stupid but it made me terribly upset.”

You half expected this much, but to hear him actually say it outloud was different. Nishimura Riki was no vocal man, and if this was all it took to get him to act, honestly, it made you a little bit pleased.

Scratch that, it made you very pleased.

“It did?”

Riki nods, “It really did.”

And when his fingers held loose from his pockets, shifting from his head to your cheeks, Riki squeezed your cheeks the the point where it hurt and you had to slap his hand away to stop.

“I guess I’ll see you later at the library again?”

Three months since school started, and no one else has been the apple of your eye.

It was an endless little routine that garnered— You tutored Riki at the library every other day now, given that he had to prioritize his game at basketball and training too.

Something changed between the two of you, though.

It was subtle, unnoticeable by those who rarely observed. Yet people saw it, the way Riki pats your head whenever you pass by him in the hallway, the way he would so very obviously sneak out during lunch time to have shared moments with you at the radio club room whenever you were there, the way he would call you chum in front of a large crowd.

It was going slow, maybe too slow for the likes of others. But Riki never strayed too far in terms of actions, keeping his boundaries present and built up. Still thinking of you, always thinking of you. In words though, his flirting was way too evident.

And when it came to messaging? You couldn’t let go of your phone. Besides class, whenever you had the time, the two of you would message one another and send random memes and bring up random topics to talk about. He called once, when he needed help with a problem and that ended up in a call that lasted for hours. Though there was no more incident following that.

This, perhaps however may be one of the moments where the unlabeled something between the two of you where it will be obvious.

You think, as you sit atop your bed and message the person who’s been occupying your mind:

Riki: chum what time are you coming to my game?

You: I’m all ready, maybe once the game starts? So it’s not too noticeable.

Riki: silly its about to start in a few minutes

You jumped from your bed, quickly putting on your shoes.

Riki: and also, melon or pineapple?

You: What’s this about? Definitely melon.

Riki’s icon pops up at your screen, a picture of him when he was a cute little child. Surprised, you click to answer his call.

“Yes?”

You hear shuffling, Riki’s screen was black, then it shifted and his face was now showing. He was wearing his jersey, the muscles of his arms peeked just a little as he held the phone up to his face. “Hi Chum.”

“Hey, don’t you have a game in a few? I’m on the way out now.” You held your phone to your face as well as you exit your house. “I just missed you, is all.”

His words made you shift your phone from your face to some random pavement. Riki chuckles, “Where are you chum? I’m just kidding.”

“You have to stop saying jokes like that…” You mumble as you refocus the phone back to your face, “Why? Cause it gets you, no?”

“Riki! Stop it!” You want to slap him so bad right now.

“Okay, okay I’ll stop!” Riki snorts, someone shouting could be heard from behind him, Riki responds before turning back to you, “I’m just making sure you’re coming to my game pretty girl.”

Pretty girl, chum— god, you’ll explode if he calls you that one more time. When Riki starts using something, he never lets go of it. Which in this case, was his too strong of a nickname for you.

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s your game, of course I would.”

You see him pause for a moment before he grins, “I’ll see you here then, yeah?”

You nod, “I’ll see you.”

“I have to go chum! I’ll wait for you here.”

You bid goodbye to him. Riki thought he pressed the end call, putting his phone down on his bag. Confused, you peek a little closer at the screen only to hear someone speak from the other end.

“Who was that?”

“Just my pretty girl, she’s coming to my game.”

Oh and fuck, you never ended the call so quickly in your life.

“Y/N! Wow I never imagined to see you at a basketball game.”

It was pretty noisy, the large bustling and hustling of the crowd. The game had already started, you were a little late. Rei isn’t one to be interested in such crowds, but for the sake of you, she went and tagged along.

Someone’s voice chimed from behind, it was Jungwon, along with Sunoo, Sunghoon, Naomi, and Jongseong. You smiled sheepishly, greeting them. “It’s my first time actually!”

“You’ve never watched a match of Decelis Academy basketball team before?” Sunoo asks, plopping a popcorn down his mouth as all of you settle on some bleachers not too far away. “No, it’s not really much of an interest of mine.”

Jongseong spoke, “What made you want to watch it then?”

“Oh, it’s—” You hesitated to say it outloud. Riki? Should you tell them it was Riki?

“Chum, I’m glad you made it.”

All of you turn to look around the owner of his voice, it was Nishimura Riki. Was it even possible to say that he looked more delicious up close? Someone of his nature, looking all sweaty from all the warm ups, his cheeks flushed a bit of red, his jersey labeled number ten. And gosh, his biceps— his biceps!

“Riki!” Naomi beams, something within you tingles in alert. They all greet him, Sunghoon, Jungwon, Sunoo, and Jay bumping their bodies with Riki as a friendly bro thing.

The whole entire thing with Naomi confessing months before, you only treated as some sort of fever dream for the sake of your sanity. It happened, but you pretended it hadn’t. You’ve not been feeling much of her for the past two months around Riki, it was better that way.

Every moment she does though, it’s like your system is on high alert.

Riki gives a little acknowledgment to Rei and Naomi, but his focus and eyes remained at you as he neared with an exciting grin. “Hi.” He says once he was face to face and once again, towering over you.

“Hi, I thought you were starting already?” Came your breathless response,

“I just wanted you to come a little faster.” Riki grins at his cheekiness. “Here,” He was already holding something as he got to the bleachers, he hands it to you. It was two pieces of melon bread, along with some milk you always got at the vending machine and a small, singular rose that was crocheted and wrapped ever so beautifully.

You beamed, feeling flustered all of a suden at the eyes of your friends which kept its attention on you and Riki. You were speechless, simply taking the items from his hands.

Riki had always been really sweet over his actions whenever the two of you alone, but to to be this bold was much of a surprise. “T-thanks…”

To your surprise, Sunghoon squeals a little, “Damn! You’re actually like, not afraid anymore.”

Riki gives him a glare, Jongseong chuckles, “Tough kid all grown up.” He ruffles Riki’s hair. Over the course of a few weeks, these boys have come to grown closer and more intact with their friendship. Prior to Riki leaving, he wasn’t really intent on making much friends.

“He’s actually trying to be a gentleman now.” Rei teases.

Riki grumbles, rolling his eyes at how they treat him like a kid. Jungwon simply just smiles and agrees to the context of whatever the text was. He never responds when something like this happens, he never teases nor does he join in either. Likewise with Naomi, content with short laughs and smiles.

“Ugh, whatever. I have to go, see you guys after my game?” Riki bids farewell, he then pats your head. “See ya, chum.”

And he smiles, leaving once more to go to the field where his teammates were all preparing for the game.

“You know…” Naomi suddenly starts, her tone unusually quite just for you to hear. She looks at you, a glossy tint on her eyes. She looked like she was about to cry. “That time at the field trip, I think you know what happened—”

You quickly cut her off, “Oh, no, no. I happened to stumble upon it but I didn’t eavesdrop into the conversation, don’t worry.”

“I know, I think it’s right if tell you anyways.”

You furrow your brows, why now of all times? Besides, you’d already let that part go and choose not to dwell on something so insignificant any longer.

“That time I confessed to him at the trip,” Naomi’s voice got impossibly smaller, she fumbles with her shirt. “I told him I really liked him. You know what he told me?”

From your peripheral vision, you see a sliver of Jungwon listening in cautiously.

“What?”

She looks at you and chuckles, “That he doesn’t see something happening between us and he was just focused on getting your heart back.”

You no longer had time to response as a loud whistle and horn erupted from the crowd signalling the game was about to begin.

“Decelis Academy vs The Tigers!”

The athletes of Decelis Academy enters, it wasn’t a home court for either athletes, but the cheers for Decelis Academy was loud and booming. Some even held their banners of the team proudly. From the corner of your eye and ear someone screams— Nishimura Riki go! So delicious and so good!

Weird ass much?

You opted to ignore some of the cheers, keeping your eye on one number and one number only— ten.

If Naomi’s words held some truth in them, Nishimura Riki definitely succeeded in getting your heart back and this time, you’ll definitely let him know.

The game eventually started with Decelis Academy claiming the ball and bouncing it to their side of the court. One of the students— 01. Lee Heeseung was it? He passes the ball to another you don’t know who student, but being barricaded by two students from the oposing team. The student eventually passes the ball to Riki knowing he was trapped, Riki catches the ball with ease and shoots a three point.

All of you screamed and shouted, jumping around so excitedly for the point. It’s not like it was his first point ever, but something about seeing it so close up for the first time— Riki playing and all, ignited something within you. You grinned, finding yourself too giddy whenever he scored a point, and pouting whenever he got knocked over and blocked by the opposing team.

It wasn’t even a matter of you supporting the team anymore.

“Unfair much?” Rei teases, observing your very tense posture as you wait for Riki to catch another three pointer. Riki shoots it with such a precision, his hand must have a ruler or something like that.

“Whoooo!!!” You screamed and jumped and jumped, your excitement being the center of attention to your group of friends. You see Riki looking around a bit, eventually catching your eye. He runs to the opposite side of the court in a silly way, giving you a little grin.

Sunoo smiles, “I think you’ll be coming to more basketball games more often.” He attempts to scream through the noise, Sunghoon chuckles. “She’s definitely got the spirit.”

The match eventually ends with Decelis Academy leading a few points more than those tigers, and when it was time to gather up, all of you collectively agreed to congratulate Riki and Heeseung (he was apparently a friend of Jungwon.)

“Congratulations!” All of you beam at the same time, Heeseung and Riki were drained in sweat, barely even having the time to muster before the boys came in and engulfed them in a warm hug. Through protests and groans, the two eventually gave in to the embrace. The three of you just stand back, chatting along some other topics as you waited for them to finish their conversation.

Falling into a conversation with Naomi wasn’t hard, you’ve always been friendly and close with her even before. But maybe, the views have changed a little bit.

After few topics and sharing laughs with the group, the two eventually had to part and go their separate ways. Jungwon, Jongseong, Sunoo, and Sunghoon bid their farewells, you had a very positive feeling this wouldn’t be the last time you’ll see nor technically hang out with them.

Naomi too, had to go and leave. Eventually, it was just you and Riki left as Rei had went to the bathroom for a little while. Riki insisted on walking you over to the bus stop while his team got ready on their own bus. So, it was just you beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

The silence was deafening, Riki wasn’t really speaking much at all. “I hope Rei comes soon, the bus might come over any moment.” You try and fill in the void.

Riki simply nods. The unnerving quiteness lasts for a few seconds before he says, “Hey um, chum— would you mind if we go out a bit later at night?”

You paused in your tracks, “Go out? Where?”

“I kind of want to—” Riki scratches the back of his head sheepishly, “treat you to a little something as a thank you for watching my match.”

“As a thank you? It’s okay, you don’t—”

“What I’m trying to say here is I’m asking you out tonight if that’s okay.” Riki finally goes straight to the point, twisting his body so now, he faced you. Suddenly, you feel your heart pumping louder and louder, stumbling out, “You’re— um— what? Asking me out?”

Riki nods. “If that’s okay chum? I mean it’s fine if—”

“No! No, I would love to. Where do you want to go?”

“There’s a cute coffee shop around your neighborhood nearby, let’s go there?”

“S-sure, what time do you want to go?”

“Is six pm okay?” You nod, looking into his eyes shyly. Riki smiles, you see the way his face lights up as his fingers squeezed your cheeks, “Great. I’ll come pick you up?”

“Okay.”

”Okay.” He pats your head, “See you later pretty girl?”

“Mmh. See you later.”

Riki eventually leaves once Rei comes back, she sees your flustered face, “I’m hoping he hasn’t kissed you out here in broad daylight.”

You smacked her arm, hiding away your tomato cheeks, “Stop! It wasn’t he just— asked me out.”

“Finally!” Rei beams surprisingly, the bus arrives shortly after and you continue your conversation as you go inside. There’s one thing you’ve been curious of with Rei ever since this whole thing happened.

“Rei can I ask you something?”

She hums, “You know Riki is a bit more of a trouble maker and all that. You find him rowdy right?” She nods at your statement, “I find it that you don’t harbor any certain ill feelings towards Riki, why’s that?”

Rei deadpans, looking at you with her face flat. “Are you kidding me?” She asks, as if the question was too ridiculous to even answer. “I have hundreds of ill feelings towards that boy! Look at how he ghosted you all of a sudden, and how he doesn’t care about his grades and how—”

You immediately cut her off, “I’m sorry! Nevermind! The question was too ridiculous to ask.”

If you’d pressed on further and maybe attempted to defend Riki, in the end, it would end up with Rei being on the winning end. Rei was naggy, but she was right most of the time. Rei sighs, leaning back into the bus chair.

“I talked to him one time after your entire argument and ignoring each other stage.” She says, pertaining to where you and Riki had blatantly ignored each other after the field trip.

You gasped, “You what?”

“I talked to him.” She repeats, matter-of-factly.

“Why?”

“You guys were dragging it more than it needed to be, I tried and talk to you but you wouldn’t budge. So naturally, Riki wouldn’t budge either.” You stay silent, Rei continues, “You looked so miserable you know? And every time I see Riki pass by, he always had this frown on his face and I could more or less guess why.”

“So I talked to him about it, and I told him what he really thinks of you.”

You hesitated before asking, “…. What does he really think of me?”

“He said he doesn’t want to lash out his jealousy on you so he chooses to stay silent for a little while during the trip. Then, you started completely ignoring him on the way home. Which is, the two of you are completely stupid, I can see that from this standpoint.” Rei rolls her eyes, “But— Riki had always really been the nonchalant person, so to see him say something like that was new for me too.”

“Riki said he didn’t know what to do because he doesn’t want to lose you but he doesn’t want to feel like controlling you either knowing how much he’d hurt you in the past. So, I gave him a little push to give you that letter in the Love Box. I never imagined he would actually do it, but the way he did it was really childish and not even secretive in any way.”

You chuckle, remembering the moments a few months back. It was, indeed childish, very Riki. “I guess that’s part of his charms, though. Very straightforward and monotonous. Regardless, that time when I talked to him, it didn’t seem like he was lying with his intentions with you so I’ll give him the free pass— for now.”

The last part felt more like a threat than comfort on your end, but your heart swooned anyways, placing the pieces of puzzle together inside your head. One piece, being from Rei’s personality of keeping you safe and well attended to in any matter, the other, finally clearing up the misunderstanding that had jumbled and racked your mind. And finally, the last piece being Nishimura Riki.

You had a clear vision of what you want to say to him now, what to tell him.

It was stupid, as Rei would always tell you. Regardless of it being stupid, dumb, chaotic or what not, one thing remained certain in a sea full of doubts— you like Riki and he likes you back.

Your parents would always tell you to absolutely, no matter what, one hundred percent— not have a boy over at home whenever no one was around.

But the sudden disappearance of your parents, only leaving you with a sudden chat of, ‘your grandma is sick, we’ll come back tomorrow!’ tells you it wasn’t really your fault.

Well, it partly is.

And it was partly Riki’s too.

You were just nervous, is all. Plus, Riki wasn’t even going to your house, he was just there to literally pick you up. What was there to worry about?

Everything.

It was currently 5:50 PM, ten minutes before Riki arrives. It felt like your skirt was a bit too tight around your waist (it was not), your necklace felt like it was choking you to death (it was just you), your top felt like it was too… little? You were just anxious at this point.

Your cat comes around, perhaps sensing your distressed state. She rubs her face around your leg, an action you find absolutely adorable as worried dissipated momentarily.

Then, you feel your phone ping, you quickly opened to see and check the message.

Riki: pretty girl are you all ready?

You: Yes!

Riki: oki im almost near ur house

You: Okay, I’m not sure if I dressed up enough…

Riki: you’re pretty either way, doesn’t matter

You: Girl.

Gosh, you’d punch Riki in the gut if you had the chance. The way he states something so easily like that is what surprises you every time, now you were even more conscious with your attire! What you wore wasn’t even bad, a cargo skirt paired with a similar jacket and a tube top. Your shoes were just loafers, comfortable enough for the walking.

Maybe you were just overstimulated considering this was technically the first date.

Ding.

Speaking of the first date, you hear the doorbell chime in and you hurriedly came down from your bedroom, nearly tumbling upon your own two feet as you did so. You opened the door, you honestly wish you hadn’t and just kept it closed.

“Hi chum.”

Riki’s dressed in all black. He wore tattered denim pants and white shoes, it was paired with a graphic tee and denim jacket. His hair was tousled slightly, indicating it had been a bit styled, lips parted to greet you in a gentle manner. It seemed he was into accessories too, with the way it adorned his neck and waist, dangling about.

You definitely should have kept the door closed.

“Hi.” Came your breathless response.

Though, the better response would be— how in the world did you go from dressing like an emoji to a literal fashion icon?

Weird, something’s beating and it’s definetely your heart.

“Ready to go?” Riki asks, you nod and exit your house. “Oh, I haven’t introduced myself to your parents yet.”

You shrug, “They’re not really around today, they’re at my grandmas… Maybe tomorrow?” You turn and lock the door. With the way you had suggested it, it seemed like you were suggesting him to come back tomorrow and visit you. Regardless, Riki does not bring it up and only smirks in response.

“I’ll greet them tomorrow, then. And see? I was right, you look pretty whatever you wear.”

“Can I punch you.”

Riki chuckles. “I’m not teasing you.”

The sun had already began to set as you walk side by side with Riki, there was a deafening silence in the air following his flirty responses, similar to when he walked with you at the bus stop a couple hours prior. It was killing you, what was he thinking of?

“So… Where’s the coffee shop you wanted us to try?” You couldn’t bear the stillness any longer. Riki only grins, patting your head. “Just a few minutes walk away, do you trust me?”

You nod slowly, but there was mischief in his eye. Riki smiles, unconsciously or perhaps willingly— he took your fingers within his grasp and started walking a little faster.

Warm. That was what his hand felt like. Slightly calloused from all the basketball he’s been playing, but it was gentle and calm with the way he held your hand. Perhaps willingly once more, he intertwined your fingers with his and walked along as if it was nothing. His back was facing you, and once again, you couldn’t see what he his expression was.

Yet, the subtle twitch of his touch proved a little something, and the redness of the tip of his ears was more than enough to let you know Riki was nervous.

You didn’t let go of his hand, albeit it feeling like your whole body was about to explode. Often times, it felt like you were outright tiptoeing with Riki, reaching the verge of acting like a couple yet you were not. It was risky and dangerous, something you hoped would end by the end of the night.

You hoped he felt the same too.

After a few minutes of walking, the two of you eventually reach a lit up cafe. Riki enters, you follow suite, given he did not let go of his grasp on you. The outside felt a little small, but the inside was definitely different.

It was a grassy little field, with an abundance of trees surrounding the counter where you are made to order. What makes it different is the fact that the trees were large and sturdy, each tree having two to three treehouses built upon them. The inside of the treehouse looked spacious too, lit up with some LED lights on the inside.

The entire placed looked like a fairy garden, in all honesty.

Something that came out of a fairytale, like a place for little elves for there were so many trees. Some trees had lights hanging upon their leaves, a few seats were seated at the shade of those trees too. Quiet a few people occupied the seats, and it made you wonder how he came to know of this place.

“I didn’t know something like this existed near our neighborhood?!” You gaped like a little kid buying a doll for the first time, Riki chukles at your reaction. “You never go out save for when there’s school.”

Pouting, you nod along. Riki wasn’t lying, outsides perhaps just wasn’t really your thing.

“It’s— it’s beautiful, wow!”

You were too busy admiring to notice that you were right in fromt of the counter, a nice lady who had piercings, colored hair, and similar clothes to Riki took your order. There were quite a few baristas, each one having a different style than the next as if their avatars were that customizable. Probably college students who took arts and design.

“What do you want to get pretty girl?” Riki urges you as she smiles as the staff who swoon over his face. You ignore it, shrugging, “Anything is fine for me.”

“Hmm, is a latte fine?” Riki suggest, you agree and he orders ahead. Completely ignoring what he was even ordering, you kind of just admired such ethereal place that existed right before your eyes. You definitely had to come to this place more often, and you had to come out for more in general, really.

Once Riki finished his order, he asked if there was a treehouse available. The staff nodded, pointing to quite a few. He thanks the staff and held your hand once more to guide you to one of them. “This is so magical, Riki, wow! It’s—”

“Pretty isn’t it?” Riki looks at you with a smug grin, as if he’d plan the mos top notch date of your life. And he has, he probably will continue to do so. “I can’t believe I don’t even know this was just around our neighborhood.

“I like to explore places, I happen to have found this place while—” Riki stops middway, “Nevermind.”

While he contemplated visiting you on the way home from one of his games.

“What is it?” You urge him, “It’s nothing.” He says back. You choose not to pry, eventually reaching one of the treehouses and entering it. The space was lole any childhood dream, tapestries of random posters, board games, a mini record player, a small table and color mats decorated the treehouse. It was bright too, with the way the LED lights hang dimly. You sat on the mat, crossing your legs. Riki, somehow manages to do the same given his height. He was cramped though.

“You’re too tall.” You giggle.

“Yeah?” He just chuckles, trying to fit is oddly long legs. Riki sits beside you, rather than across you, a gesture you appreciated a little more than you’d like. “Wanna play some card games?” He offers, you agree with excitement and watch as he pulls out an uno.

“Uno? I’ll have you know, I’m pretty good at that game.” You boast.

“Really? So am I.”

Riki’s competitiveness allowed him to win a single match, you challenged him for another because you know he’ll tease you relentlessly and put his victory over your head for a while. You were on the verge to winning, when the food came in and Riki used the excuse of— needing to eat— because he was hungry.

You grumble. “That’s so unfair.” Riki pokes your cheek, laughing at he put a piece of fry in his mouth. “I won! Ha!”

But all disappointment faded away when he feeds you a piece of fry. Riki ordered quite a bunch, a couple of meals and sides as well as your drinks. “Riki, I’ll pay half of the food. How much—”

“Wow this chicken is delicious, try it.” He feeds you a piece of the chicken, you hesitantly chew on it.

“How much do I—”

“Ooh! My latte is pretty good too, want a sip?” Riki quickly places the straw to your mouth, waiting for you to sip but you don’t. It was clear what he’s trying to do here. “I swear, Nishimura Riki—”

“Are these cheese on the fries? They’re so cheesy! Geez, have another one.”

You didn’t even have time to speak when he was already plopping the fry on your mouth and you had no other choice but to chew on it. “I seriously can’t believe you.”

At this point, he was just being a dork. Riki snorts, taking your hand in his once again and kissing the back of it with ease. A gentleman, tempting, dork, that is.

Riki smiles, caressing your hand with his thumb as he shrugs. “It’s always on me, pretty girl.”

“But I can’t—”

“Just this once? Please?” Riki turns on that puppy eyes, a capability of his you never knew he could do. Adorable. With a sigh, you agree, “I’ll pay for it next time, okay?”

He grins, “There’s no guarantee in that, chum.”

For a few more hours, you spent your time, heart and stomach full from the stories and the food you and Riki shared.

“I’m stuffed, my gosh.” A little rub of your belly was all it took for Riki to chuckle. Chatting away mindlessly paired with food was not really such a good combo. “Me too, how was the food?”

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?” Riki tilts his head, you roll your eyes. “After I just ate my ass off here! But thank you, Riki.” You grin at him, thankful for him being ever so generous. This was, beytechnicality, your first date after all.

“I’m glad, pretty girl.” Is all Riki says before the two of you turn to leave the treehouse and the cafe all at once after parting with sad goodbyes. You’d have to come here more often, and with Riki as your accompanin for the next few times.

The sun had already been long gone the moment you left the cafe, with nothing but the street lights decorating the pavements. It was unfortunately, very cold. Cold enough to have your legs shivering and your thin cargo jacket aim uneffective. Riki noticed this, taking off his own thick jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders. It was twice your size.

“Oh, no, Riki it’s okay—”

“Keep it, chum.” Riki cuts you off, you simply nod to his statement, not refusing the warmth his jacket provided. Oh, and the scent of his perfume too. The two of you walk around aimlessly side by side, fingers and shoulders brushing past each other dangerously. No one spoke, until you broke the silence,

“Riki, I—”

“Y/N, I—”

“Ah, you go first.”

“Alright well um, thank you for today Riki. I really appreciated the treat, and—”

It seemed the universe worked in your favor, as the moment you spoke, the park you walked over to lit up with bright lights. It was cold, but the warmth of Riki’s shoulders provided shelter to your shivering body. You stood below a tree— a cherry blossom tree — where it’s pink hues fell with such certainty. A pile of the petals had collected below your feet, with the way the light shown, it honestly felt like you were the main character of a romance drama.

“For this, for everything, the past few months you’ve been treating me so well and kind.”

“It’s because I want to make up for the time I’ve lost.” This time, Riki faced you. He met your sincere face confessing to your heart’s content. “For the time I just disappeared without a trace, I want to make up for that, pretty girl.”

You chuckle, “You already have.”

It was but a subtle movement, Riki moves a tad bit closer. “But that’s besides the point. Thing is, I really— I like you Riki. It’s hard when my feelings are all jumbled and I’m still scared to fall in love, but I won’t deny the fact that I really like you.”

And he moves closer, “And?”

“And I know I may not be the most perfect person, I’m a bit of a mess at times and you—” Riki gently places his hand on your cheeks, shushing you. “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true, people admire you a lot while I—”

“And I admire you a million times more than those people, Y/N.”

Riki sees you as a whole, the bigger picture to his puzzle pieces. Someone who, despite tumbling across the world’s inevitable problems, manages to stand her ground and keep her stance. Someone who never ran away from the things people throw at you, someone who despite being wronged for hundreds of times, you always find the forgiveness in the depths of your heart.

If not for that, Riki wouldn’t be standing here right now in front of you, with the same look of pure admiration in his eyes. If not for that, Riki wouldn’t even had the chance to get back on his own two feet to keep you close to him, to hold you.

“Really?”

“Really.”

You ease into his touch, Riki moves impossibly closer.

“Can I say something?”

“Yeah?”

“I like you too, pretty girl.”

Closer, closer, until— “Can I kiss you?”

But it was more of a statement than a question because the moment you finish mumbling a breathless yes, his lips were already on yours.

It came in so suddenly, one minute you can feel the fanning of his breath, the next, all you can feel was the plump lips of his pushing against yours. The kiss was shy, hesitant even. Riki held firm, pressing just a tad bit more as his fingers caressed your supple cheeks. It was like electricity with maximum voltage, his touch kept you intact and addicted. The way he held you like you were a fragile, porcelain doll made you feel like jelly in his touch. One of hands snaked around your waist, pulling you closer if that was even possible.

Your mind was in a daze, too lost on reciprocating his feather lips and too hung up on the fact that Riki was actually kissing you. Like silly little highschoolers, like silly little kids— he kissed you just like that.

It wasn’t heated, nor was it filled with desire. It was just— breath taking in a way that your lips molded together and was filled with nothing but love and unspoken emotions for the past few years. Sweet his lips were, firm were his hands upon you. When the two of you eventually ran out of breath, he parts his lip from yours ever so slightly and connects his forehead with yours.

You did not believe that just happened.

“Was that— was that okay?”

Riki asks, but with the way he was clutching you close made you get the feeling that it was more than just okay on his end. You nod shyly, cowering away. But Riki laughs, gripping your fingertips which attempted to cover your flushed cheeks,

“Pretty girl…”

He kisses your forehead, “Is it safe to assume I’ve won your heart again?”

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ END *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Extras!

The start of April symbolized new beginnings, the end of March wraps every chapter up.

“For the last song recommendation, I’ll be playing fifteen by Taylor Swift.”

Fingers grasp the rough CD, perhaps the last one you’ll ever touch in such a place— your school for four years. It leaves a bittersweet feeling down your stomach, but you clutch the pain and let the music roll in.

You take a deep breath And you walk through the doors It's the morning of your very first day

“Today is the last day of the Seniors in Decelis Academy, and this day marks their graduation.”

You say hi to your friends you ain't seen in awhile Try and stay out of everybody's way

“As we seniors part way to head towards a brighter future, may all learnings imparted upon us be used in the near future.”

It's your freshman year And you're gonna be here for the next four years In this town

“For all students of this Academy, thank you for sticking by and supporting the Love Box, future officers will hold the name of this box and continue our practice.”

Hoping one of those senior boys Will wink at you and say "You know I haven't seen you around, before"

“And this is the President of the Radio Club, signing off.”

'Cause when you're fifteen And somebody tells you they love you You're gonna believe them

“May all your dreams and aspirations come true, students of Decelis Academy!”

You lower the volume of your mic down and let the music play. Fifteen when you first entered highschool, fifteen when you fell in love for the first time. You look around the Radio Club room, feeling pride and sadness swell in your stomach.

Then the bell rang. It was time to part and finally graduate.

“Let’s go chum?”

Someone knocks from the door.

It was time to graduate with him alongside you.

You turn to him, a somber expression on your face. Riki nears you, he holds his diploma tube in one hand. This was the first time you’ve seen him in prim and proper uniform, it suited him way more than his disheveled, improper look. He looked handsome, and you could tell he thought you were pretty too, with the way his eyes sparkled.

And when you're fifteen Feeling like there's nothing to figure out

“You done with the announcements?” He asks, gently moving a stray of hair away from your face. “I’ll miss this place.”

“I know you will, chum.” He grins, fishing something out from his pocket. It was a brown paper, perhaps coffee-coated to achieve the vintage look. Its edges were also burnt, “What’s this?”

Riki urges you to read it, you open the paper.

It read:

“I’m not good with letters, I’m not good with words, so excuse this silly excuse of a letter. But this is for you, chum. The person I admire most since I was fifteen, the person I’m glad I got to meet. As we enter a new path together, we don’t really know what will come ahead of us and what challenges we have to face. But I know one thing— that we’re certain. I’m not scared, I’m excited even. I’m excited to be going through life with you, I’m excited to be with you. And I’m glad I got to spend my highschool life together with you despite it not going in such a smooth way.

I love you, pretty girl. Always.”

Tears stained the brown-colored paper, all you felt was the prickling of your eyes. You were crying.

You read the paper over and over and over. Riki was looking someplace else, embarassed to have you reading the letter outloud despite having suggested to do so. But upon hearing your sniffles, a worried response immediately came from him.

“Are you okay? Hey—” His fingers brushed away the tears from your eyes, “Is my handwriting or grammar that bad?”

You shook your head, “It’s beautiful Riki, it’s—”

Something washes over you and you immediately held him tight in your embrace. Riki was surprised, but he hugs you regardless, patting your head and tightening his hold around your shoulder. You sniffled in his arms.

“Don’t cry, I thought I did something wrong, hey—” He pulls your shoulder back, “You’re crying even more!”

“I can’t help it I—” You wipe your tears, “I love receiving things like this.”

Riki sighs in adoration, nearing your head and wiping away the tears that adorned your face. If he knew you loved receiving such things, he would’ve done so long ago. He didn’t want to see you crying, especially if he was the reason despite it being for such a good cause.

“Pinky promise me something, chum.” His hands continue to cascade away your tears, cooing at your adorableness.

“Yeah?”

He holds his pinky finger out, “That you’ll spend your forever with me no matter the season. I won’t leave you again, not this time.”

You laugh, “Is that even a question that needs asking?” Intertwining your pinky finger with his and enclosing the promise— together and forever. No matter the season, even if the cherry blossoms no longer fall, even when winter feels too cold and summer feels too hot.

Riki smiles ever so gently— kissing you cheekily.

The mic of control system buffers, and something rings.

It was an indicator that the mic had gone silent, just this very moment.

And then you hear it, the screams and cheers of the students around.

Well, count to ten Take it in This is life before you know who you're gonna be At fifteen.

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at work:

Me: (randomly deciding to throw a pen at my 18 year old coworker, nailing him perfectly in the back right between his shoulder blades)

18 year old coworker: *registers that he’s been hit, looks around on the floor for a bit, then holds up the pen accusingly while looking me dead in the eye*

Me: *I am not a subtle person and I smile accordingly*

18 year old coworker, still trying to be deadpan in the face of zero remorse: You’re trying to hurt me.

Me: Just your feelings.

18 year old coworker: *actually laughs, which is surprising for a kid who is usually Serious All The Time*

[softquietsteadylove]

Miss your Maleficent AU. Could you maybe write some more of that ? Maybe jealous and protective Gil/Thena

(also I just want to say. I got into Eternals because of your. 👉👈 I love Don Lee, and I came across your post. I didn't know that he played in this movie. Thank you 💕)

Misery. Mating season was pure misery. As far as Thena was concerned, it always had been. Even back in the isles, all mating season meant was morons crooning at her from treetops like seagulls.

She had seen humans aflush with mating hormones. Usually in the spring, they began courting each other. They would trade soft, quiet words, perhaps sing sweet songs and trade trinkets. Humans had such cute mating rituals. Nothing like a bull flying too close and flapping his wings at her.

Thena curled around herself tighter as a couple flew past, way too close to her, and way too close to each other. Their wings were hitting each other on occasion. Some of their feathers floated down into Thena's space.

She stood with a huff, sending the errant feathers away. This was a poor place to choose as her waiting spot. But she had a view of the side entrance to the nest this way.

The patrol would be back any time now.

As the nights grew shorter, the patrols too grew longer. She could see from her higher vantage point the way Druig was one of the most eager to crowd the entrance. He was waiting for his own mate.

She was waiting for hers...in a sense.

Not that she and Gilgamesh were declared to each other. They weren't really mates, in the way most would consider the term. But she had his feather! And he had hers, even if not displayed publicly.

"They're almost here!" she heard one eager, young fae bubble gleefully to her friend waiting next to her. They were bouncing in their excitement. "Do you think he'll land first?"

Thena rolled her eyes. Young spring fledglings yet to face the harsh winds of the world.

"The captain always lands last!"

Thena bristled, as did her wings. She fluffed them, attempting to smooth them down of their own accord. She couldn't let her hackles raise to every young chick who was aflutter over Gilgamesh. She would never know peace if she did.

Gilgamesh was a very desirable specimen. He was the captain of the nest's border patrol, as well as a personal guard when occasions called for it within the nest. He was a good hunter, a provider, strong, a skilled flier, and he was handsome-

Thena walked away from her waiting spot, refusing to watch Gilgamesh be ogled as soon as he arrived with the rest of the border patrol shift. He could come and find her if he wanted to share some food, or her company.

She wasn't his mate, so what was she waiting on him for?

If she had to watch him be given mating trinkets she might not be responsible for her actions. She trudged through the tunnels instead, determined to take the caves back to the inner cliffs. Perhaps she would just drag herself back to her nest and lie around like a pitiful runt with a broken wing. At least she would be the only one to witness her own misery.

"Are you lost?"

She looked up, shocked to be spoken to in the middle of her brooding. She hadn't even realised she had passed another fae. He was an arctic fae, she gathered from his light coloured robes and the silvery shine in his hair and even his eyelashes. "What?"

"The gathering fire has been lit, they will be handing out food," he repeated, even pointing in the direction from which she had just come. "I wouldn't want you to miss out."

She frowned. What business was it of his if she missed the first servings of meal time? "Perhaps that is my choice to make."

"Yes, of course." But he smiled, showing off pearly white fangs. He was a pretty thing; she was certain he would also be giggled and flapped over by the eligible and awaiting fae out there.

Just like Gilgamesh.

Her mood still soured, Thena turned, determined to continue on her way.

"There will be fruit."

It was impossible for her to hide that her ears perked at that. They were practically fluttering like her wings at the thought. Winter had made it hard to find the sweet, delicate morsels she so loved. Her eyes must have looked bloodthirsty when she looked at him again.

He smiled warmly, hands folded into the sleeves of his robes. "I heard that once mating season begins, the last of the dried fruit rations are distributed, as a celebration that fresh fruit will begin growing once more."

She regarded him cautiously. He was promising a great treasure--almost too good to be true. "Heard?"

"Ah, I have travelled much in my life, I too am not native to this area," he excused with a laugh. "Although I come from the north, I had the pleasure of experiencing the southern Isles many years ago. I remember how lush the fruit was, no matter the season."

Indeed, it was the only thing she missed of the Isles. She approached him again. "You lived on the Isles?"

"For a time, yes," he sighed, opening his eyes again. They were a pretty colour, she had to admit--much like the waters of her island home. "I was quite happy during the time I spent there."

A smile came to her face, perhaps from sheer nostalgia. The thought of warm winds and soft sands and the sounds of her brothers' laughter (when they were still small and cute) came to mind. "They are pleasant."

"Pleasant, yes," he agreed. His smile changed slightly and he stepped closer to her, "and beautiful."

She blinked; had she misread his intentions. Her feathers weren't standing on end, but she couldn't help but tilt her head at him. "Hm?"

"I do miss the beauty of the Isles," he repeated. He was no coward. "The soft gold of the sands, the sparkling green of the seas. Truly the most beautiful sights one can behold."

She clasped her hands behind her back. She couldn't very well tell him he was speaking to a mated fae--he wasn't. Her tongue turned sour again and her frown returned without any need to force it. "I don't-"

"Ah, forgive me," he offered with genuine sounding contrition. He even stepped away again, back to a more respectful distance. "I do not wish to cause you discomfort."

She eyed him. He had taken no for an answer, which frankly put him ranks above plenty of the hormone driven bulls out there. She straightened her back, stating firmly, "I'm not looking for a mate."

"Then let it be so," he agreed easily. His voice was like silk. "I will not ask anything of you."

Thena maintained the distance he himself had offered. But if he truly was ready to accept her answer, then perhaps something of a friend would not be the worst to have in this mothernest. She was starting to realise that with exception to Gilgamesh, she had made little effort to find more, now that this was their home.

"I confess I knew you were from the Isles the second I saw you," he offered, again his own defense, but not disavowing his declaration of her beauty. "I have longed to return to the Isles for many years now. I was eager to speak with someone else who knew them."

"Hm," she contemplated her options aloud. She could surely talk with him about her past home. There weren't many other options, after all. And so long as he kept it to himself if he found her beautiful or not, she could concede having some company besides Ikaris might be nice.

"Your brothers flew here with you, yes?"

She relaxed some at the mention of her brothers. She was not the only one he had learned about. "Yes, we all made the journey together."

"Druig, the younger one," he began carefully. "I was not able to connect that he was from the Isles and your kin until recently, I confess."

She had to smile. Druig did look quite her opposite, in many ways. He had short horns, dark and coiled tightly to his head. Dark hair, sharp features, and his wings were like the darkest part of the ocean.

"He is mated with Makkari, the lightning guard."

That was a fitting name for her, Thena had to admit. "I am quite happy with the match."

"What of your other brother?" her new acquaintance asked, his hands back in his sleeves again.

Ikaris was like a medium between her and Druig. He had some grey in his hair, peppery toned wings like a great owl. Thena sighed. "I fear no one would be able to stomach him as a mate."

Her companion laughed. He had a nice laugh, his voice light but also somewhat husky. "Surely he can't be so bad."

"I fear he is worse," she rebutted, making him laugh more. It wasn't as nice as Gilgamesh's laugh, but it was nice to hear any laughter, now that she thought about it. Perhaps mating season was getting to her after all.

"I have seen him with Ajak's assistant," he offered.

She too had seen him hovering whenever Sersi was in the open. But Ikaris was too ungraced to approach her directly. Thena feared that he had picked that up from her directly. "She will need to court him herself if she has hopes of making it through his agate of a skull."

"An agate for a skull?" he questioned, humored by her term for it.

"Large, some might find it pretty, but it's technically hollow inside."

Her friend threw his head back in laughter, truly enjoying himself now. She had to smile, too. It was nice to make someone laugh.

"I have heard much worse about siblings from others, if anything he should be grateful you compare him to something so desired," he chuckled, wiping a tear from his silvery eyelash in laughter.

"Indeed, he has had females pursue him in the past," Thena lamented, back to ruminating upon mating season. "But he is too dense to realise. I end up having to break the news to them that he is...not the courting type."

"Ah," he made a face of feigning understanding.

She frowned again, looking at him. He was a pretty fae, she could see that. But something made her bristle again. "Why aren't you out there?"

"Hm?"

"I know why I am here," she continued, feeling as if the air were shifting around her. Her feathers started rising. "No one uses the tunnels."

He tilted his head at her, utterly innocent looking. "I thought a quiet walk might be nice. All the mating season chirping-"

"Your wings drag," she pointed out, looking down at their feet, her sandals and his slippers. Indeed, his silvery wings were dragging on the ground behind him, they were so long. He wouldn't be taking the cave tunnels unless he had to.

He sighed, and harshly at that.

Her brows furrowed. "Did you expect to find me?"

"I followed you in here," he grumbled, some of the smoothness of his voice leaving him. "I've been trying to speak with you for some time now, but you're always slipping away like a wriggly little eel."

She shivered; she hated eels.

"When I saw you come down here I thought," he shrugged, making quite light of the confession to having tailed her like a predator. "This was my chance to talk with you."

Whether he meant that literally or was alluding to more than speaking, she bristled. She was no one's prey. "Was any of what you said true?"

He gave her a look, thoroughly irritated with her now. It was a sharp contrast to how gentle and soft he had seemed mere moments ago. "I didn't falsify anything. I did just want to talk with you."

He did seem genuinely discouraged. Perhaps it was the privilege of being a bull that he had no idea how threatening it felt to find herself entrapped with him like this.

"But you're always hanging around with that meathead."

Her wings bristled for an entirely new reason. "Who?"

"The captain," he sighed--scoffed, rather. "Gilgamesh?--throws his weight around, doesn't talk much. I have only seen him a few times during his duties and he seems...staunch."

He couldn't have been further from the truth. "He is not."

"You fly with him often," he pointed out, and she tried not to let it ruffle her. "He was your escort when you arrived from the isles."

She stood her ground.

"I always thought it should have been me," he muttered, letting some bitterness come through in it. "I volunteered, actually. I told Ajak about living in the Isles in years past--it made the most sense for me to be your escort!"

He sounded quite certain about that.

"But she chose him," he rolled his eyes, even pulling his hands out of his sleeves to run a hand over his horns. They were long, but they were downturned. Thena liked how Gil's flowed back from his head, like the depictions of old dragons in some cultures.

"You are envious of him."

He made a face, and Thena realised that perhaps this was one of those times when she was no more graceful with their own kind than Ikaris. It was an uncouth thing to say aloud. He looked at her with wild eyes and approached her with his shoulders forward. His wings raised and even confined within the space they were, they were huge. "Me?!--jealous of him?!"

Thena took a step back, but he continued to push his way into her space. She shouldn't have said that (even if she was right). And now she was trapped in a tunnel where she wouldn't be able to fly, at least not at any decent speed.

He slapped the cave wall between them, his temper now in full control. "What could that urchin brained, thick skulled, sea salt coated idiot have that I don't-?!"

Thena blinked as he was yanked backwards so far that he fell straight onto his wings. He yowled and grumbled as he was stepped over, his pretty wings being bent and rumpled as he attempted to pick himself up with the weight of them working against him.

"Careful you don't hurt your thick skull."

Gilgamesh stepped over the other male, completely unbothered by his agonised groans radiating through the tunnel around them. He walked over to her, leaning down to her ear, "are you unharmed?"

She nodded, happy she was still clasping her hands behind her and around her wings, which were absolutely vibrating at the sight of him. Her heart hammered in her ears. "Yes."

"Good." Gilgamesh's voice was deep, and smooth, and pleasant to the ear. He turned back to the other fae present. "You!"

"Ugh," the male grunted, finally able to pick himself up. He huffed and puffed, hair ruffled and wings positively bedraggled. "What the hell was that for?! I was-"

Gilgamesh was in front of him in a second, nose to nose, eye to eye. His fists clenched audibly. "If I ever hear of you following anyone around, let alone trapping them in a tunnel?"

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't trap her-"

Gilgamesh grasped the front of the opposition's robes. He brought his face close, growling right in it, fangs bared, breath heavy. "If I ever see you say even a word to her again-"

"Won't happen," he was quick to try and slither his way out of trouble. Like a wriggly little eel, Thena thought.

"Ever!" Gilgamesh roared right in his face, shaking him. "You come near her again, and I'll shatter your wings so badly you'll never even feel the wind in them again."

The fae paled; it was about a serious a threat as there ever could be. He wrestled himself from Gilgamesh's grip and began backing his way out of the tunnel, head down, wings pressed flat. "Never again. Consider me gone."

They could hear his steps scurrying out of the tunnel almost the entire way back to the opening. Gil turned back to her. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She looked down at her toes. She felt foolish for having thought he had innocent intentions, even for a second. And perhaps he did, but she didn't feel any better about it.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked her gently, coming to her and reaching out for her hand. "I landed and went looking for you."

She kept her eyes down, not wanting to admit that she hadn't wanted to see him fawned over by other faeries. "I didn't feel I had the stomach for it."

She wasn't exactly explaining herself. But Gilgamesh accepted that, moving closer until he could pull her into his arms. She sighed as his hand drifted between her wings, massaging the knot that had formed there.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to her, burying his nose in her hair. "I should have been here to fend him off."

She inhaled the scent of him from his robes. She did want that. She wanted him to be around to fend off others in the name of keeping them away from his mate. She wanted to be able to tell the young fledglings that openly lusting after another's mate was unseemly. She wanted him to be hers as much as she felt he already was.

Gil pulled away first, holding her cheeks to kiss her properly. Their lips parted but he stayed close, his forehead to hers. "I know I'm not...we're not...I know. But I'm your mate, Thena--I am. And I'm not gonna let anyone think otherwise."

She pulled her head back enough to look at him, her lashes fluttering. He stared into them, his eyes such deep brown pools that made her want to sink into them. And they were so honest--she could believe everything she saw in them. She blushed.

Gilgamesh accepted as she kissed him again, slipping her hands under his wings and up his back. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm here now."

"Hm," she purred, happy just to enjoy a moment with him away from prying eyes. She rose onto her toes to nestle her nose right into the folds of his robes. And there, she found her feather, tucked away against his heart. She was in her rightful place, as far as he was concerned.

"Hey, you didn't eat, right?" he asked, eager to move past this unfortunate episode. "I found you something."

Her ears perked again--wings fluffed again.

Gilgamesh pulled out a pouch. Before it was even open her eyes went wide at the scent. He grinned, "we flew out pretty far today. But I found a few of these."

Her eyes sparkled as he handed over the treasure; an agate in its own right, filled with its own kind of jewels. She loved pomegranate.

"How 'bout we get away from all the noise," he chuckled, handing over the treasure so he could wrap his arm around her waist. "And I'll feed you those little seeds."

"Arils," she corrected, but with a wide smile, entirely too thrilled to have one of her favourite - rare - fruits within her hands again.

Gilgamesh just chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Anything my mate desires."

[rotzaprachim]

realisation that lenú and lila l’amica geniale are the equal and opposite reaction to tenoch and Julio y tu mamá también

[penrose-quinn]

Deep down, ik no one's gonna read that Benkei fic but it's for me and I'm in it for more first gen BD lore and shenanigans bc they're my boys in a summer vacation/beach episode format

[lovieku]

TRUE LOVE ⋆ 정국

when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.

⋆⁺₊❅. 5/6 from christmas & chill

pairing tattoo artist!jk x fem reader

genre fluff, smut, grumpy & sunshine, somewhat f2l

warnings jk 24 | oc 24, jk thinks he’s too cool for love, oc suffers from a chronic case of “i can fix him”, she eventually does, oc simps HARDDD and jk only pretends to be unaffected, yea he’s a bit of a dick sometimes but he’s also Very funny, brief description of panic attacks, male masturbation, kissing, idk what else to add i just rly rly love them and will think of them for the entirety of xmas season

word count 10.2k

author’s note hi lovies 🩷 it’s my last time with c&c 🙁 i’m kinda emotional omg… it’s been such a fun, warm and lovely week, and i love each one of you for showing endless support to this project <33 i’ll keep trying to not disappoint… please tell me if you like this!!! thank u always and always 🩷 luv u <3

banner by the gorgeous @awrkive ⊹₊⟡⋆

On the first day of December, your path crosses with thee Jeon Jeongguk’s after enough years for your brain to trip slightly before recognising him. But it would have been impossible not to—there’s likely a whole, well-preserved section of your thinking organ dedicated to that mortifying phase of high school, when your hormones turned life into an endless internal tug-of-war.

The moment your eyes widen at having him stand in front of you, you’re yanked unceremoniously into the past, brought back to buried, locked and left to gather dust feelings that have your teenage self’s screams echoing within you in a chorus of delight and cringe.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, is simply following his duties as a tattoo artist. When he catches sight of you next to his appointed client on such a breezy day, the cold December air starting to find its space even in the confines of his studio, he only nods his chin upward at you in slow recognition.

It’s awkward, at first. Only because you make it.

You’d volunteered to accompany Eunbi, your best friend, to get her first tattoo as an early Christmas self-gift. Your mission was clear: support her, hold her hand if the pain became unbearable (though you’re probably the least dependable person when it comes to making clarity in situations of panic, as seen right now), and be the first to bask in her excitement as she finally sees what she’s always pictured to be inked on the skin of her forearm. A blue whale tattoo, large enough to make you wince just thinking about the needlework.

You’d never go through something like that. Never.

And that’s exactly what’s showing on your face when you’re met with Jeongguk’s full sleeve of tattoos, leaving you rooted to the spot.

You’d always known him to be the different kid, the quiet one with forced sharp eyes that canonically listened to alternative rock and glared at anyone who dared approach, whether to tease him or befriend him. He’d convinced himself that no one could ever understand him.

See, you’d instead fooled yourself into thinking you were the exception. That you did understand him.

Fourteen-year-old you had gone through some weird phases, and the one that resurfaces now at the vision of his adult self is the one centered entirely around him. You unashamedly had the biggest crush on Jeongguk. To you, he was mysterious and edgy—in an effortlessly cool way.

You’d tried everything. Offered him your lunch more times than you were left with any for yourself. Even cut your bangs to have them fall over your eyes to mimic his fringe, dyed a strand in blue, overhauled your wardrobe to align with his back-and-grey one. None of it worked. He never noticed.

But, thinking of it now, there’s no way he didn't. He definitely did. How could any boy turn a blind eye to a lovesick girl’s heartfelt Valentine’s letter, a hopeless romantic girl who almost cried on the spot when she got rejected? Jeongguk just chose to willingly ignore it.

These are all valid reasons as to why your functions seem to slow down in his unexpected presence. And you’re not going to deny nor fake that his calm, almost detached demeanor doesn’t flow through your body and right to your left eye, making it twitch with a slight tremor.

Yet, you must also admit that your teenage self was onto something. Jeongguk has changed drastically but he’s also stayed the same. You think fourteen-year-old him would be proud of where he is right now. Two piercings on his lower lip and one on his eyebrow, intricate ink tracing up his muscled arm, his… muscled arms. Wow. And then, his studio. His own studio, a place for him and his passion, one that he made into his job. That’s undeniably cool.

Maybe just not cool enough for you to be gaping like an idiot as he moves with purpose, adjusting your friend’s arm to position the stencil he had prepared, perfectly fitting in the space she had chosen. His muscles flex with every shift, and it’s impossible for you to go past that with the way the black beater he’s wearing is loose on his torso, but still clinging on his chest.

Eunbi notices, of course. You don’t have time to feel embarrassed and in return she doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when your usual chatter dries up entirely, only gulping obnoxiously noisily and alternating that with nervous silences. Jeongguk, too, catches on.

He’d always known you as obnoxious and noisy. In, huh, a good way. Or whatever.

Jeongguk just agrees that you were (and probably still are, if the pastel yellow skirt softly flowing down your legs paired with a cozy cream sweater and the full toothed grin you shoot at your friend are any indicators) the pinpoint embodiment of his opposite. You’ve always been talkative, smiley, and friendly, eager to help and to receive help, not in the slightest ever turning down the opportunity to blabber on, and on, and on.

Honestly, Jeongguk doesn’t think he ever truly listened to a single word of your rambling back in the day, especially during those times when you’d bounce up to him and launch into enthusiastic rants about obscure alternative bands he himself hadn’t even heard of. He respected the hustle, though. He’d always wondered where you found the time and energy to immerse yourself in music like that.

He much preferred when you were less trying so hard to be him and mirror his tastes, more when you gave up on impressing him and simply stayed true to yourself, the girl whose heart belonged to Justin Bieber and One Direction. Truthfully, he fucked with them. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. His quiet, brooding image wouldn’t survive that revelation.

What he respected the most was your resilience. After all the times he rejected you and your awkward blurts of confessions, you still didn’t think it was enough of a reason for your villain origin story to take off, and instead remained the same frustratingly positive ray of sunshine you’d always been.

Now, as Jeongguk works on the tattoo in front of him, the very design that caused all these long-buried memories to rise back, his dark eyes flick toward you sitting on a stool in a near corner every now and then, a hint of confusion in his expression each time you take more than five seconds to reply to his small talk.

It’s just, you’re a bit taken aback. Since when does he do small talk? The foreign smoothness with which Jeongguk handles interactions is so far removed from the sullen boy you used to know. You’re not prepared for this version of him. It’s disarming, to say the least.

Enough time has passed for you to settle into the odd scenario, your current best friend and your long-standing high school crush in the same room. Slowly but surely, your curiosity sparkles again, and the signature tendency to let thoughts tumble out of your mouth unchecked returns to you naturally.

“Ouch, that looks painful.”

Jeongguk snorts, eyes trained on Eunbi’s arm as he glides the tattoo needle with precise strokes that have his brows pinching and the tip of his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lips, a habit you remember from the past but one you’ve never found quite so distracting before.

Still, he multitasks and responds without missing a beat, “Wanna try?”

Wow. This is, like, the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. It spurs you on to do anything it takes to hear more of his voice, the sound of it definitely deeper than the shy tones you struggled to coax out of him ten years ago.

That is probably why you literally lie, “Hm. Maybe. I was thinking of getting one actually. In the future.”

Eunbi chokes on her spit, her chest coughing with the sudden, blatantly fake revelation, and Jeongguk promptly pauses, lifting the needle from her skin as his tattooist reflexes kick in. While your friend apologizes between a clearing of her throat and sinks back into the chair, she doesn’t keep from glaring at you, her expression screaming What the hell are you doing?

You deadpan. You’ll explain everything later and it’ll all make sense. And you know this will inevitably end up being added to the list of the many embarrassing facts she knows about you and threatens you with when she wants to go clubbing and you don’t.

Jeongguk uses the brief interruption to glance up at where you’re perched in the corner of his peripheral vision, just to square you up and down with a skeptical arch of his brow, “Really?”

You scoff, smoothing out the creases on your skirt as if the fabric is somehow responsible for the lie you just told, “Is that shocking?”

He hums, returning to his work with the buzz of the needle filling the studio again, his voice padded the more he gets closer to Eunbi’s forearm, “I just find it hard to believe such a princess like you could handle any pain.”

You gulp.

What you’re getting from this conversation is that Jeongguk has always had an idea of who you are in his mind all along. That he’s always perceived you in some way. As much as your inner fourteen-year-old is swooning at the attention, gobbling up each of the tiny crumbles he’s giving you, it doesn’t sit right with you. What exactly does he think of you?

“Test me.”

He shrugs, eyes fixated on the shade he’s perfectioning with black ink, “Busy now.”

“I’ll go pay for mine. I saw you have one last free spot today,” you announce, the words tumbling out with more confidence than you feel. You’re already on your feet before the sentence is fully formed, betraying the fact that your nosy tendencies had gotten the better of you earlier. You’d discreetly glanced at his appointment book when Jeongguk and Eunbi were finalizing her tattoo details and negotiating the final price at the desk.

He hums, head tilting slightly, “And I wanted to spend it bumming around.”

“Too bad. You’ll have to postpone that.”

You walked into this studio swearing you’d never let a needle even brush you.

Now you’re stretched out on a leather bench, Jeongguk leaning over you with a stencil in hand, gloved fingers moving with careful precision.

The design you’d chosen came from his portfolio—a delicate illustration of two butterflies in motion, their soft threads intertwining. You’d flipped through countless pages of bold skulls and intricate linework before settling on this.

The spot you’d chosen for the tattoo was the flat, firm plane between your breasts. It wasn’t a conscious decision, just a place you’d always liked. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that nature hadn’t exactly blessed you in the cleavage department. Subconsciously, perhaps, you thought that adding something there might give the illusion of more.

“Tehe,” you can’t stop the breathy giggle that escapes as the cool paper brushes against your skin. Your hand is pressed to your bra, holding it in place as best you can, though the situation feels so surreal it’s hard to focus on anything but the ridiculousness of it all.

Jeongguk glances up at you with a glare that’s more exasperated than angry before returning to the delicate task at hand, “What’s funny?”

Your voice wobbles, “I just— I tend to laugh during serious moments.”

“Oh. Weird.”

“Sorry.”

With a small sigh, he smooths the stencil, and once it’s transferred he hands you a square mirror, waiting for your approval. You nod, the butterflies now perfectly poised in their eternal dance, and Jeongguk doesn’t waste a moment.

The buzz of the needle fills the room as he leans closer, one gloved hand resting on the upper part of your chest to steady himself. He’s mere seconds from beginning the inking process when another laugh bubbles out of you.

Jeongguk sits back abruptly, dropping his pen onto the metal tray with an audible clink. Tilting his head, he levels you with a look of thinly veiled irritation. “I really can’t work if your chest keeps moving.”

“Sorry,” you blurt again, turning your head to face the wall. You clamp your lips together tightly, mentally scrolling through every sad memory you can conjure. Think of something awful. Your childhood dog dying. Okay, maybe not that sad—

“You haven’t changed a bit since high school. Always smiling like you live surrounded by flowers and rainbows,” Jeongguk’s mutter vibrates against your chest, warm breath fanning over the cold skin, distracting you from your no-giggling mission.

The unexpected observation has your brows furrowing in a mildly offended frown, and banter is ready on your tongue. “You’re just the same too, Gguk. The emo boy who thinks he’s too cool for a smile.”

“I’m not an emo boy. The fuck,” he scoffs, kissing his teeth and murmuring more of his indignation under his breath.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. I can teach you.”

The whirring needle glides across your skin with a slightly firmer touch, making you hiss softly under your breath. He seems unbothered by the reaction, and instead bothered by your words, “Teach me what.”

“How to smile a bit more,” you reply, your voice laced with mockery as you keep your gaze firmly fixed on the wall. The smirk playing on your lips is triumphant; he walked right into your little jab, hehe.

Your mind is already racing, piecing together the beginning of a sarcastic rant about how his perpetual scowl probably contributed to his mysterious high school persona. For the sake of his ego, you won’t add how it worked in his favor, how more than one girl (your own self) found his untouchable vibe completely irresistible.

Even though, thinking back, he looked ridiculous. His big, round, slightly scared-of-the-world eyes truly didn’t belong with the heavy black eyeliner.

But before you can get a single word out, Jeongguk straightens his posture, pulling away from your chest. With a practiced motion, he tosses one of his gloves onto the counter behind him, his expression cool and indifferent. “It’s done.”

“Done?!” you exclaim, tilting your chin down to look at your chest. You go slightly cross-eyed trying to catch a glimpse of the design now inked onto your skin. Forever.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t even feel it.”

Jeongguk seems equally done with small talk, transitioning into a professional explanation of the tattoo’s aftercare step. His tone is calm but clipped, and you can’t tell if it’s his usual demeanor or just reserved for you. He also hands you a small tube of cream of which you’re not sure the use of, too enthralled by the vision of his colored sleeve this up close.

And still laying on the leather bed, you almost reach to trace one of the many lines with your finger before he interrupts, “You can pay with Yoongi at the entrance.”

Clearing your throat, you sit up, brushing imaginary dust off your skirt as Jeongguk turns his back to you, his focus already back on cleaning his tools. You still are not over, “Thank you, Jeongguk. Can I— huh. Can I get your number?”

He pauses mid-motion, just long enough for the silence to stretch thin and taut. Turning around to study your features, he stares you up and down with knitted brows and a hostile kind of confusion painting his expression. “… For what exactly?”

“In case anything happens with the tattoo.”

Jeongguk stills for a second, eyes narrowing slightly, then turns back to what’s keeping him so occupied with a noncommittal grunt, “Huh. Sure. Yoongi has my business cards at the desk. You can ask him. Have a good day.”

With Eunbi practically dragging you out of the room, you don’t have the chance to say anything more, though your chest burns with indignation. It’s not that you expect him to fall over himself at the chance to catch up, but the sheer indifference is maddening.

Should you pretend you don’t care either? You could. But really, who are you fooling? You still have those old diaries buried somewhere in your closet, their pages crammed with his name written in looping, lovesick cursive. That little girl in you never truly died.

On the fourth day of December, you finally text him. It’s about your tattoo, of course. There’s not much else to say to him, but when his only reply to your picture of the healing process is a yellow thumbs up, you find your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Words start forming before you’ve fully processed them, and before you know it, you hit send.

You [3:39 p.m]: btw u still friends with kim tae?

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: Yes

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: He’s my best friend

You [3:43 p.m.]: ohhh, cool

jeongguk [3:45 p.m.]: You want his number?

You [3:46 p.m.]: no… i’m good with yours ☺️

You can’t help but giggle at how his typing bubbles appear and then fade for a whole minute, biting your lower lip with a sheepish grin, savoring the silent victory. You’re doing this for your fourteen-year-old self, who would’ve squealed at the thought of making Jeon Jeongguk flustered. But you’re a different girl now. You’ve changed. No man could ever reject—

jeongguk [3:48 p.m.]: If there’s nothing else about the tattoo then 👋

“Hmph,” your frown is so pronounced that you feel your chin aching and your wrinkles prematurely deepening. Well, this is not the first time you come face first with his sour antics. Only now, you’re prepared.

You [3:48 p.m.]: yall hanging out soon? let me join

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: Why lol

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: He barely even remembers you probs

You [3:50 p.m.]: who would not remember me

jeongguk [3:50 p.m.]: The only thing i’m now remembering about you is how I couldn’t stand your ass

You gasp, hand coming up to brush against your parted lips. With a huff, you hastily click at your keyboard, “Mean. Sent. Ugh.”

On the sixth day of December, your persistence pays off, and you find yourself at a random bar you’d never been to before, seated with both Jeongguk and Taehyung.

Between Jeongguk’s cigarette breaks—forcing the three of you to brave the cold outside—and brief moments in corners of the cramped place where the music feels muffled against the walls, you manage to catch up with Taehyung. The rest of the time though, the noise inside is so deafening that it makes any kind of meaningful conversation impossible.

Even more when a random girl slides into the booth next to him, capturing his attention entirely, leaving you and Jeongguk in paradoxical silence.

The tattoo artist has been glued to his phone with his head down for the last 20 minutes, and now you alternate between observing his side profile, roughened by the piercings and a more defined jawline, and analysing the weird dynamic that is beginning to form between Taehyung and the girl, sitting in front of you.

Alone with your thoughts and, well, the pulsating music, you feel yourself getting unreasonably closer to symptoms you know all too well, that threaten to have you spiraling. You shake your head, forcing it to stop. There’s no reason for anxiety to visit you at such an inconvenient time.

But of course, the little voice in your head starts listing all the totally valid motives why this is indeed the perfect time for it to visit you.

The bar feels suffocating on your skin.

Your dress clings too tightly.

The couple facing you is shamelessly close to making out.

Jeongguk sighs in visible boredom.

You shouldn’t have come. Hell, you shouldn't have suggested it in the first place. A smarter version of yourself would have brought Eunbi for balance, for comfort. But in your foolishness, you thought this could be an opportunity for you and Jeongguk to catch up. Instead, you feel foreign to him, foreign to this pub booth, and the air begins to feel foreign to your lungs. You’ve never liked bars, clubs, or places with loud music.

You sniffle, looking down at your lap. Then up at the ceiling. Then around the room. It keeps spinning and booming with volume that only adds to the feeling of helplessness. Quick, quick, quick.

What are five things that you can see?

Five. Your gaze falls on Taehyung and the girl, their lips and tongues clumsily entangled as they laugh between sloppy kisses. No help there. The air catches harder in your throat.

Four. Your empty glass, its smudged rim a reminder of the single drink you had, now sitting uncomfortably in your stomach.

Three. Your scuffed heels, their tips worn to the nub despite your best efforts to hide it with a marker.

Two. The swirling lights above the bar, dizzying as they flash brighter and brighter.

One. Jeongguk’s tattooed hand on your thigh.

His fingers dig into the skin, shaking you alarmedly, with a force you’ve never known from him, not even when it came to stopping your shaking stomach as you were laying on the studio’s leather bed.

Head snapping up to face him, you’re met with a perfect resemblance of how you must look right now. Wide eyes, knitted brows, nose flaring and exhaling, and you try to follow the movements of his mouth, but they jumble together annoyingly in your brain. You lean closer, narrowed orbs still fixated on his lips to try and read them. Are… you… ok—

“___, you’re scaring me. Hey, hello? Are you okay?”

Jeongguk moves from your thigh to your shoulders, jolting you gently but firmly from the fog that is threatening to cloud up your brain. The sudden clarity hits you, but you still stumble forward, your weight toppling over his chest. With it, your head dips rapidly, hurtling toward the sharp edge of the table, and before Jeongguk knows it his instinct snaps and he catches you promptly.

The next steps blur together. You vaguely register the boy next to you standing up and pulling you along with him, his broad shoulders supporting one of your arms while his inked one secures around the small of your waist, holding you firmly against him.

Then, it’s nothing but brief flashes. Jeongguk pressing a water bottle to your lips. Sitting you down on the stairs outside the pub. Holding your hair back as you double over, emptying the contents of your stomach onto the pavement. Cracking a smile to make you laugh, showing off his tattoos in exaggerated detail like it’s the grandest tour of your life. Opening the door to his car and gently easing you into the passenger seat, ensuring the seatbelt clicks into place.

Inside his car, you slowly feel your senses come back to you.

At a redlight that you recognise as the one near your apartment complex, you muster a small and hoarse thank you. Jeongguk only hums low, eyes fixated on the road and fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.

Before a sheepish smile can make its way on your lips and spread across your face, your head twitches back as your brows furrow. Your thoughts suddenly catch up with you, “Hey, how do you know the way to my flat?”

His gaze briefly flicks toward you in annoyance, then back to the road. “You literally just told me.”

“Oh.” A beat passes before you giggle softly. “Don’t remember.”

Jeongguk mutters something intelligible under his breath, and next thing you know he’s turning down your street and slowing in front of the building that matches the number you gave him. Given your current state, he begins to question if that is even the right one.

“This one!” You point at the tall front gate with an almost childlike excitement, back shifting slightly from the seat as your grin stretches wide. Jeongguk grimaces. Why the fuck do you look like you’ve been reuinted with your home after years apart, as if you weren’t there just a couple hours ago?

“Right. Huh, you good with going back on your own?”

“Yes. I’d hate to bother you further. I’m sorry for this, I… was getting better, I guess.”

The sad confession doesn’t land with the weight it should, softened by the smile painted on your lips and the chuckle you let out as if it were nothing. Jeongguk’s eyelid twitches, unsettled by the unnecessary happiness that always seems to drip from you, even when it doesn’t belong.

“‘S okay. Have a good night,” he awkwardly bows his head, waiting for you to exit the car. When you stay still, he clears his throat, adding just to fill the silence, and perhaps because he means it, “Huh, and make sure to rest a lot.”

You take a moment, maybe longer than you should, to study his features up this close. You particularly fixate on the way his eyes dart everywhere but never land on yours. Then, with your signature toothy grin, you bow back and open the car door, leaving with a string of thank yous, and get home safe, and I’ll text you, and please, reply to me, and bye.

Jeongguk has to fight a smile of his own.

On the tenth day of December, you realise you want him. Even more badly than your fourteen-year-old self ever did. Which is frankly insane.

You don’t know if it was the natural way he looked after you during your episode, or his dry sarcasm as he actually started replying to your random updates throughout the day.

But no, it was definitely the selfie he sent you after what he said was a long day. Messy hair, tired eyes, a hint of a smile. You’d struggled to even gulp down your saliva when the picture popped up in your chat, and maniacally stared at it with eyes glued to the bright screen before sending one of your own. He had replied with Cute. followed by Your hair pin is cute.

That is why you find yourself facing… Yoongi? If you remember correctly. The guy at the front desk of Jeongguk’s studio.

You beam at him, and what you’re met with instead is a confused stare. You inhale, “Hi. Is Jeongguk in?”

Yoongi scratches his head, muttering, “He’s busy with a client.”

“Oh. It’s okay,” you wave off his concern. “Can I wait here?”

The boy hesitates, looks unsure the more your interaction develops, and he glances between you and the empty waiting area. He relents with furrowed brows, “Sure… Huh, It’s a back tattoo, so it’ll take him a while.”

You shrug and plop yourself onto the leather sofa, seemingly unfazed, “I like waiting.”

Crossing your legs, you take in the studio’s atmosphere, eyes drifting to the dark walls lined with framed artwork and certificates. You spot Jeongguk’s name on many of those.

For the next fifteen minutes, you try distracting yourself by flipping through the stack of tattoo magazines on the coffee table. You wince at inked heads, faces, butts, and even… more private parts. Deciding this world is definitely not for you, you slam the book shut.

By the time an hour passes, you’re fighting a battle with your lack of sleep. The third yawn you manage to stifle, but the fourth escapes before you can stop it. Yoongi, seated at the desk, doesn’t bother hiding his unimpressed stare. Still, he’s polite enough to offer you a glass of water, a coffee, or even a chance to join him for a cigarette break.

You decline all of it, though your throat does feel dry.

Maybe you should have planned this with a bit of rationality. Or at least gotten more sleep. Now, your every blink is slower, eyelids batting to shut and taking longer to flutter open again. Hm, this feels nice. You’ll just let them rest for a bit longer. And longer. And a bit more.

The next time you open your eyes, Jeongguk’s face is inches away, his warm hand resting firmly on your arm. You jolt upright with a startled yelp.

“Jeongguk.”

He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in an unmistakably mocking smirk. “Hey. You don’t have a bed?”

You sit up, forcing Jeongguk to step back and straighten to his full height. Your neck cranes upward to glare at him, brows furrowed in what you hope is an intimidating glare, though you sport a pout that is all but menacing, “Shut up.”

He clicks his tongue, turning back to round the desk and fiddle with the appointment book, clearly unbothered. You take the moment to rub your eyes—only to remember, too late, that you’d worn makeup. A quick glance around reveals how much has changed since you last let your eyelids flutter open. The lights in the studio are dim, the hallway is dark, and every door is shut. Yoongi is nowhere in sight. It’s just the two of you in the deathly quiet space.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your parted lips, “Did I fall asleep? I'm so sorry. I was probably really tired from yesterday.”

Jeongguk hums, focus still locked on the book in front of him, eyes narrowed. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t ask why you came here in the first place, and doesn’t acknowledge your apology. Ugh. This is humiliating.

Before you can stand, you feel something heavy draped over your body. It’s a jacket. Definitely not yours, since you never took it off. At least not consciously. No, this is a worn black leather one on which his scent lingers. You tug it closer, puzzled, and then look up at him, holding it out. “Did I steal this in my sleep?”

Jeongguk scrunches his nose, “Ew, are you a sleepwalker?” Locking the till, he strolls over to you and plucks the jacket from you, casually slipping it on. “No, I put it on you. Wanted to see how long someone could feel safe enough to pass out in my studio. Thinking of turning this place into a daycare. I’ll have you play in the morning, get some lunch, nap time...”

There’s a beat of silence in which his sarcasm lingers in the air, and you stare at him, unamused. He shrugs, smirk unwavering.

You huff, “I regret coming here.”

“Yeah, why did you come here?”

Smoothing down your pink wool sweater, you stand up to stretch with zero shame. Then, fluttering your lashes at him, you assert with a smile, “You’re coming with me to the Christmas markets. This Sunday.”

Jeongguk groans like the idea physically pains him, “Oh, I would fucking hate that.”

Ignoring him, you zip up your puffer jacket and rock on your toes, “Pick me up at seven, okay?”

He glares, unimpressed at your excitement, before heading toward the entrance and pulling a hefty set of keys from his pocket, “I don’t even remember where you live.”

You hurry after him, following him outside and shuffling closer in your coat at the cold air hitting you. Watching as he locks the door and pulls down the rolling shutter with its red-and-black skull graffiti, you chirp, “You’ll have to text me for that.”

Jeongguk rises up again, giving you a slow once-over. He seems distracted by your hair before snorting, “You’re talking like I’m the one who spent their afternoon napping in my studio just to drop this bomb and leave. Couldn’t you just text me this?”

You shrug innocently. He sighs, reaching out for you, “Do you need a ride hom—”

“Bye!”

You spin on your heel and skip off in the opposite direction before he can let his own greeting out, waving a gloved hand behind you. Jeongguk stays where he is, arm still held out.

Do you even have a car? He hopes so—it’s freezing out.

With another sigh, he shakes his head and tugs his jacket tighter around himself. Why are you so fucking weird?

On the fourteenth day of December, your arm is looped tightly through Jeongguk’s as you stroll through the Christmas markets, burying your face further in your scarf to shield against the icy air, and with each few step you gasp at things that the boy next to you finds utterly unimpressive.

You stop at nearly every stand, eyes glowing with the warm Christmas fairy lights strung all around, effortlessly picking up conversations with the vendors and melting even the most stoic faces with the scrunching of your nose at every grin and the exaggerated nods following descriptions of their crafts.

Through all of it, Jeongguk remains put at your side, his arm linked with yours and a subtle pout on his lips. When you tease him about it, he simply shrugs, and you figure it’s just his natural expression. You find that oddly endearing.

He still humors your enthusiasm, offering low hums or murmured praise whenever you exclaim you’ve finally found what you’ve been searching for everywhere, and he offers to pay every time, the gesture so casual that he doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.

When you bow to the nth seller, clutching yet another bag of sweet treats tightly to your chest, Jeongguk exhales and resumes slow walking beside you, “I don't like these places.”

You glance up at him, fluffy hat almost slipping off before he promptly secures it back on your head with a gesture so smooth you hardly notice it. You instead wonder, “Then why are we here now?”

He slips his hand into his pocket, “Because you threatened me.”

“With a really good time.”

“If this is your version of a good time, you might as well kick me in the balls. That probably feels better.”

You gasp, halting in your tracks to glare at him. When he lets a small chuckle topple out of him, you think you might forgive him. No, you’re more than sure with the way his smile lingers. You sheepishly look away, muttering, “Don’t tempt me, emo boy.”

“I’m not—”

“Oh yes, you are,” you interrupt, snapping your face back to his. Clearing your throat, you prepare your best imitation of him, exaggerating a frown and lowering your voice, “I’m so different, I hate Christmas.”

Jeongguk scoffs, pulling you tighter to him when a scooter unexpectedly zips past you. You yelp, instinctively shuffling closer to his arm. He continues the conversation casually, unaffected, “That’s the worst impression of me I’ve ever heard. And also, I never said that.”

Releasing the breath you held for a moment too long, you uncertainly keep your slow stroll going, only narrowing your orbs at him, “It’s written all over your face.”

“I love Christmas.”

The admission is small, his voice soft and almost reluctant, like it pains him to reveal something so simple and obvious as loving Christmas. When you lean your chin on the puffed arm of his jacket, he doesn’t look down at you, his gaze fixed ahead, guiding the two of you through the chaos of the busy street.

You chirp, your steps stumbling, “Really?

Only then he shifts his attention to you, steadying you with his other arm wrapping around your figure in what seems like a hug, before he lifts you up by the neck of your coat and retreats just enough to face you. His lips press into a straight line as he nods, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes the more he stares in yours, “Yeah, really. I just don’t like… crowded spaces.”

You can’t help but think back to what happened just a week ago. The exact reason why the spirals in your brain wouldn’t stop twisting and tangling is now slipping from his lips in a voice that quietens as he seems to grasp the delicacy of his own confession.

He doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him. Drawn-up brows over wide and sparkling eyes—the only part of your face visible beneath your scarf—stare at him with something too tender, too focused, that makes him uneasy. He turns his head to the side, the tips of his ears red not only from the cold, and pulls you along toward another stand, an almost nervous distraction.

It’s your turn to frown. Maybe the one that’s permanently plastered on his face tonight isn’t just a reflection of his usual sullen demeanor. With a knot tightening in your chest, you can’t help but feel like you dragged him into something he truly hated, and that he wasn’t just pretending to.

What if this isn’t just your evil inner voice talking? What if this isn’t just overthinking, but the factual truth of your current reality? He’s hating every second of this but still enduring it because— you catch your breath with a long and strained inhale, because—

“Hey, dimples. You okay?”

Jeongguk moves to stand in front of you, his hands settling gently on your shoulders, a stance eerily reminiscent of that night you were just thinking back to. He nods at you, “Breathe with me, hm?”

You find yourself quickly adjusting to his comforting aura, drawn in by the reassurance in his eyes trained on you, never wavering, watching closely as you begin to mirror the measured rise and fall of his chest, your breathing gradually syncing with his until the tightness in your chest starts to ease.

When you feel your feet touching the ground again, you offer a small, apologetic smile. “I’m okay. Sorry. Just…” You quickly scan your surroundings, eyes landing on a colorful stand, “Wait here a second, okay?”

Jeongguk lets you slip away, fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He takes a few hesitant steps closer, careful not to crowd you but unable to tear his eyes away from your next actions, how your grin comes back on your lips with unpracticed ease, lighting up your face as easy talk flows between you and the seller. A few coins trade hands, and soon you’re holding two churros, their chocolate-dipped ends threatening to drip onto the ground.

You don’t hesitate, biting into one of them before it has the chance to make a mess, and with a quick nod of your head you motion for Jeongguk to follow. He does so, only after taking the churros from your hands, and letting you seek his warmth again with an arm snaking under his. He’s only letting you do this because it’s fucking cold, no other reason.

You walk, and walk, guiding him along until you find a quieter corner, away from the bustle, where you two stand isolated from the rest. The dim lighting casts a softer glow, and the distant hum of chatter and music fades into a gentle background noise.

Glancing up at him, you flash a playful smile before leaning in to bite another chunk of the churro he’s holding, your laughter spilling out as he grimaces in exaggerated disgust and pulls the sweet out of your reach. You settle onto a nearby bench, patting the empty spot beside you invitingly.

Jeongguk is unsure of what this means. He takes slow steps towards you, handing you your churro—which you take eagerly, already chewing on it—before tilting his head back in mild confusion, “But… you wanted to visit the markets.”

You shake your head, your bug eyes meeting his as you speak around a mouthful of sugar and chocolate, “There’s no point if you’re not going to enjoy it.”

The look you’re giving him is one he’s seen countless times before—familiar, and annoyingly reminiscent of ten years ago. It’s the same look that, he’s convinced, is solely responsible for making his knees weak and his fingers jittery, no longer something he can blame on the cold. You’re unbelievably frustrating.

He clicks his tongue, looking away, “You’re fucking weird.”

You giggle, humming, “If weird is a synonym for whipped, then sure.”

He has to fight the twitch of his lips. Fakes a gag instead. You chuckle louder. Only then, he hints at a smile, “C’mon. Let’s go check out some other stuff.”

“But—”

He interrupts, pulling you up by your forearm, “I’m hungry.”

The next hour you spend wandering around is made of Jeongguk’s small, imperceptible ways of cracking: his pout less prominent, more replaced by lips pulled into a tight line or in a mildly pursued scowl as you ask him which beanie looks better—the pink or purple one; his so evident sarcasm as he comments on how the old vendor was totally flirting with you, or when he mockingly adds to your over-the-top excitement every time you spot a dog. All in all, he’s more relaxed. More himself.

You then find yourself standing in front of the churros stall from earlier, the warm scent tugging you closer. Without hesitation, you ask the lady behind the counter for another four churros—this time with extra sugar. You add two thank yous.

To fill the waiting, you pick up casual conversation with the woman, until she pauses mid-sentence, wrinkled hand coming to rest over her heart as her gaze flits between you and Jeongguk, her crinkled eyes lighting with a sudden fondness and a quiet, content smile finds its space on her chapped lips, “You two look perfect together.”

Jeongguk snorts, “Oh, we’re not—”

“Thank you, auntie!” You chirp, and your grin is so wide it squeezes your eyes into crescents. You accept the first churro she hands over, biting into it and talking through it, “These are delicious. Is the recipe a secret or can you share it with me?”

The woman laughs, clearly flustered by your energy, and leans in with a conspiratorial expression, though she gives in pretty soon, “It is a secret, but… Oh, c’mon. A pretty lady like you deserves to know.”

You burst into chuckles, joined by auntie’s own rolling and carrying a contrasting warmth to the cold air. Jeongguk, for his part, stands slightly to the side, observing. You still cling to his arm, even as the vendor reaches over to gently smooth her fingers through your curls, complimenting the way they frame your face. You roll your eyes, feigning exasperation, but there’s a dimpled smile stretching on your cheeks that gives you away.

Before you leave, the lady points to Jeongguk, voice growing earnest, “You, handsome. I can see you’re a good guy, so you probably don’t need my advice. But treat her right, yes?”

Jeongguk stills for a second and stumbles over an awkward nod, managing to force a smile that has you stifling a laugh under your scarf. You tug him away with a cheerful wave to your new friend, promising her you’ll come visit again before Christmas.

Once you’re at a safe distance, he mutters, “Why did you not tell her that we’re not together?”

You tilt your head considering his question, “It’s not like she knows us. She looked like she adored you. I didn’t want to ruin that for her. Maybe seeing a young couple like us really means a lot to her.”

Jeongguk observes how the more you explain, the more you’re convincing yourself as much as him, eventually solidifying your reasoning as you nod, muttering some more under your breath. He scoffs, looking away to hide his lips twitching.

When he turns back he’s frowning, though it doesn’t quite match the way he lets you hook arms again, your pastel pink bag hanging from his shoulders. Still, he sulks as though the mere thought of your observation has him shivering, and not with the cold, “We’re not a couple.”

Jeongguk barely gets to let his unnecessarily petty comment out before you drag him with an unusual strength over to another stand, his voice not even touching your ears, “Oh, let’s go over there, Gguk!”

On the twenty-first day or December, you send him a picture of your tattoo.

You had been talking non-stop ever since your… date? Or was it just a hangout? Whatever it was, it’s been a week, and Jeongguk finds himself smiling at a fucking screen too many times a day for his linking. It’s irritating. Even brings his phone with him to the bathroom in case you text him. Not because he cares. No, it’s practical. What if you ever had an emergency and he was the only one who could help?

Most of the time it’s just you sending TikToks, but he clicks on the links with the same urgency he’d reply to a genuine plea for help. He doesn’t really want to think of the reason why.

Now, this picture—it catches Jeongguk off guard.

It doesn’t even look like it’s about the tattoo. Not really. It feels like an excuse, a flimsy pretext for you to show yourself to him. The tattoo—the one he himself inked—is there, yes. But it’s not at all the main focus of the photo that tightens his grip on his phone.

You’re wearing a thin, pink tank top with delicate lace trim, the straps barely clinging to your shoulders. Your fingers hook under the neckline, tugging it down just enough to expose the tattoo nestled between the soft curve of your breasts. The angle of the shot is deliberate, he can tell. Your back arches slightly off what he assumes is your bed, and your face is cropped out, save for your glossed lips, full and slightly parted, catching the dim light.

Jeongguk blinks, hard. Then again. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, the low light of his phone screen doing little to soften the image burning itself into his mind. His eyes dart upward, scanning his surroundings, just to make sure everything is in place. The shop is empty, the door is closed, the hum of quiet settles over the space.

Looking down, the picture still stares back at him paired with a single message.

Annoying [11:39 p.m.]: do you think it’s healed? idk about this stuff, need your help 🥺

He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what this is. He alternates between the photo and your words, jaw ticking and tightening more with the seconds flowing.

It’s almost cruel, the way you’re testing him like this. He tries to push the feeling down, to reject the buzz of heat pooling low in his stomach. You know him well enough to be aware that he won’t reply to something like this. A stupid, unnecessary message. The tattoo is healed—he told you that a week ago, clear as day. There’s no reason for you to ask again.

What’s the purpose of this?

He gets a distorted idea when he shifts uncomfortably in place, the dull ache tightening his pants almost unbearable now.

Jeongguk groans and locks his phone, tossing it onto the counter as if that will put an end to this. He tries to refocus on his tasks, the last ones before he clocks off. Cleaning needles, tossing used stencils.

But his heavy balls keep sending desperate, silent prayers to his brain, to please let them have this. Just this once.

It’s been a bad day. Two of his appointments canceled last minute, leaving him to sit around bored. The last client showed up drunk and wouldn’t stop trying to flirt with him. His coworkers were loud and distracting, and to top it all off, the heater broke, leaving the studio freezing cold.

It’s been such a bad day.

So, would there be any harm? It’s not like anyone will know. Not you, not his friends. He’s the only one that will. And he’s far more willing to live with this dirty secret rather than with his hard dick straining achingly in its confines.

Jeongguk abruptly snatches up his phone again, unlocking it to the same picture that caused him to brush the device aside just minutes ago. He lets out a shaky breath, thumb hovering over the screen. You won’t get no reply to him. But if you knew what he was up to right now, you would probably geek. Tease him, with your warm smile that digs dimples in your cheek, hopping on your toes to poke at his chest playfully, with those perfectly manicured hands of yours.

“Shit,” his free hand is already pushing the jeans down along with his boxers, and he drops his weight onto the nearest stool as he grips at the base of his thick cock, eyes devouring the image of you in the empty chat.

He doesn’t zoom in. That would feel too shameless. But he finds it oddly better like this. Is it weird that your text, so innocently worded, is turning him on? That the simple idea of you needing his help is enough to have his hips jerking?

What could you possibly need his help for? Fuck. The different ideas that pool his mind have him squeezing harder at his stinging tip.

Jeongguk focuses on your dainty hand, slim pointer finger snaking under the collar of your flimsy shirt to show yourself to him, and your small boobs spill from the sides with a delicious, soft swell. He hisses when he pictures that same hand working on him instead, his warm mouth stuffed with your stiff nipples, visible through the sheer material.

He can’t help the loud groan leaving his lips, wrist flickering up and down in a motion that feels sloppy way too soon, hips jutting up to fuck into his tight fist. Throwing his head back, he sees you even behind closed eyelids.

He pictures your delicate figure sprawled on his bed, long lashes batting up at him as you sheepishly hide with your cheek to your shoulder. Can clearly make out how you’d sit on his lap instead, unsteady breath fanning over his lips, using his long shaft to make yourself cum. The whole time, he sees the tattoo on your chest, the one that is forever on you, eternally a reminder of him.

When he lets his head topple forward again, his bright screen still stares at him, only because a new message pops up in the chat. He startles, and his cock throbs in his hand.

Annoying [11:52 p.m.]: oh, and i miss you.

“Oh, fuck,” the curse is strained through a loud whine, and only followed by more of his full moans filling the room. His brows knit as his hand moves rapidly, palm collecting the precum spreading embarrassingly fast on his tip and rolling it down his length.

He focuses on your parted lips, the soft curve of your breast, your hard nipples begging to be sucked and spit on. Your last text has flashes of your bug-like eyes staring up at him seizing his mind.

That’s what undoes him. He’s delirious as he lets out his every sound, freely, unchecked, not caring about how loud he is, whimpering as he gets closer to his climax. When he thinks of those eyes locking with his, kneeling before him, eager and willing to swallow his every drop, he cums. Hard.

Jeongguk pumps everything he can out of him, and it’s messy—spilling over his hand, staining his clothes, pooling on the floor. His chest heaves with the effort, and the sensation of abandon he feels is so pleasurable, energy drained but leaving him with a lightness that threatens to make his cock hard again.

Fuck. He can’t afford that happening if you’re not the one attending his needs. This won’t be enough, not until it’s you. He’s insatiable.

Jeongguk needs to hear your voice.

It’s an instinct, and he bends to it. He’s careful, making sure not to tap on the FaceTime option, because if you were to see him right now it’d be glaringly obvious.

When he looks to the side, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the long mirror, and he visibly grimaces at the way his cheeks are flushed, the pearls of sweat coating his forehead causing his bangs to stick uncomfortably to the skin.

Guilty doesn’t even begin to cover it.

With the phone to his ear beeping to eternity, he hesitates, contemplates ending the call before you can answer. But just then, you do.

“Jeongguk! Is everything okay?”

Your voice is familiarly soft, but there’s a trace of concern. Blinking, he brings the device closer again and gulps thickly when he can make out your panting breaths. He clears his throat and puts on his best nonchalant act, “Huh— Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know… You just never call. Or text first. This is weird. You sure you’re okay?”

Oh. Is that really what it is like?

Jeongguk never realized this was how he came across—so detached that a simple phone call feels out of character. Your naive honesty hits him square in the chest. God, he needs to get better at this. The irony stings: he just fucking jerked off to your picture and the simple thought of you, while you’re on the other side thinking he’s just a careless piece of shit who doesn’t even know how to call.

The long stretch of silence registers in his brain, and he coughs to buy time, “Yes, I’m sure. I— huh,” he thinks of stuff you usually ask to keep the conversation flowing. Not out of courtesy, but out of genuine interest, the curiosity that makes people want to open up. He’s still not used to that. Still finds it weird.

“How… How was your day?”

It must be equally weird for you because it takes you a longer beat to reply. In that quiet moment, he clenches his eyes shut and feels his jaw tick with shame. And embarrassment. And this icky feeling that makes him feel too mushy for his liking. Hell, what is he doing? He’s never been like this, he’s not supposed to be like this.

But you recover quickly, as you always do, and you smooth over the moment. Fix it all for him like you were born to be just that. Make him feel like he fits in ways that have him exhaling shakily.

Jeongguk senses a foreign drumming in his stomach, and it’s warm but odd, and he loves it but he doesn’t want to.

On the twenty-fifth day of December, cheekily under a mistletoe, Jeongguk realizes he wants you. There’s parts of him that probably knew way sooner. But the parts of him that didn’t, fighting tooth and nail to suppress the mere thought, are just now finally surrendering.

Jeongguk has always found you admirable, back in high school. You had this determination to you. Not only when it came to him. It shone particularly when you catered to others, always finding ways to help, to mend, to offer yourself with nothing less than a fully toothed smile.

But he’s also always thought you two were—and still are—too different to work. He can’t be what you want, let alone what you deserve: someone who can match your enthusiasm and unwavering smiles, your frustrating positivity; someone who sees the world the way you do. No black, no grey, no shades in between. Just bright, hopeful white. Blinding white.

It’s the white making him dizzy, shifting his perspective, having him believing the opposite of what he’s always known. Pushing to be a little more egoistical, deceiving himself that he’s right for you. Because he wants to be. He oh, so selfishly wants people to know he’s the one who finally gets to have you, the one gifted with such a light, unfairly deserving of all the love you carry into every room you walk into.

Just a few days ago, during another one of your increasingly frequent phone calls, you asked him what he was doing for Christmas. He could have lied, come up with something on the spot.

But with how you so easily, and always coax the truth out of him, he let it slip. He told you he’d be alone, words subtly heavy. But they didn’t have the chance to even drop their weight before you were already inviting him to your friend’s party, insisting that he would be the most welcome.

And he’s here, and he sits beside you, and every time you laugh you lean your weight over him, and the room vibrates with the energy you fill it with, and each one of your friends is so enamoured with you, and for reasons he can’t fully understand it fills him with a sense of pride that shouldn’t belong to him. But it does, and it comes with so many other feelings.

You don’t push him to talk. You never force him into the spotlight when he takes a step back, quietly observing, choosing to stay in the background. Because you read him like it’s in your nature to do so, your soul seems to intuitively melt with his, and it intertwines in such a tight knot that he feels it constrict his throat. He knows he’s still alive because his heart is beating, just a little faster with each time you flash your dimples at him.

“Dimples. What are you doing, hm?”

Now, he’s in front of you, a small smile on his lips as you stand on your tiptoes, trying to dangle the mistletoe over both your heads. You’re struggling just a little, your hand unable to reach high enough, and the fake plant awkwardly brushes his hair, the tickling sensation causing his nose to scrunch. You laugh.

Looking up at your swinging movements, you lose your balance for the slightest second. Jeongguk’s hands move instinctively, catching you promptly by the waist to steady your body. But even after that, he doesn’t shift, his warm palms stilling. And when you face him, he’s closer and his chest brushes against yours. From this proximity, he witnesses the Christmas lights painting a galaxy of their own in your orbs.

You beam, “What does it look like? We have to kiss now.”

Jeongguk stares in your expectant eyes, brows wiggling and all. The more his mouth keeps in a straight line, the more the wiggling slows. You eventually come down from your tiptoes, letting the mistletoe fall to the side, tilting your head.

He snorts, looking away briefly to hide an embarrassingly wide grin behind his hand. When he turns back to you, your pout is enough to have him scrambling to meet your gaze.

“On one condition, though.”

You chirp, “Yeah?”

He licks his teeth, reserving you with a smug look, “Admit that you were scared to get your tattoo.”

Your smile vanishes in an instant, your expression falling into mock offense. With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you turn on your heel, pretending to walk away from him. Pretending, only because you know he won’t let you. And you’re proven right when his fingers wrap around your arm, tugging you back with enough force to spin you into him. Suddenly, you’re pressed so close you can feel the heat radiating from him. Your chin nearly touches his chest as you glare up at him, narrowed eyes meeting the mischievous glint in his.

He bites a smile, lips twitching, “C’mon, princess. You wanted to act all tough and shit, but I could feel you shaking.”

Your scoff is loud and incredulous, “You’re such a bitch.”

He only shrugs, “You want my kiss, no?”

“Oh my god,” groaning, it’s your turn to face the side to hide a grin, “Are you always this cocky?”

His chin tilts upward slightly, and you can tell he’s enjoying this, “Say it.”

You whip back around to meet him with a seriousness he hardly ever sees on you, and you even clear your throat, channeling every ounce of the determination he knows you for, every drop of resolve that makes you you. “Yes. I was scared shitless, Jeongguk.”

Foreign excitement brims out of him, not before his eyes widen just a fraction, and his nose scrunches the more he leans closer to you, inches from you, swinging side to side with exaggerated mockery and a grin splitting his face, “See! I knew—hmph.”

There’s no other second to waste.

The condition has been met, and now all the requirements for you to claim what you were promised, your reward, are there. Even more when kissing him means catching him mid-taunt and silencing whatever teasing remark he had ready.

Your lips touch his in effortless ease, breaking the air as they press together. It’s tentative at first, almost uncertain as you feel Jeongguk remain still.

But it doesn’t take him longer to move, mouth molding against yours in a sickeningly sweet hug, tasting each other with quiet curiosity, taking your time to adjust and melt, instructing your bodies to imitate the dance.

Your arms lock around his neck, his stronger and tattooed ones circle your waist, and the way you click together feels so right, almost too perfect, so perfect it scares you. When you arch yourself further into him, even the non-existent space between you unbearable, he accompanies the motion with his wide palms gliding along your back, squeezing you into him, feeling the curve of your hips.

The soft whine that scratches your throat and vibrates against his lips betrays you, along with the useless effort to contain the intensity of what you’re feeling. The emotion disarms you, the sound gasping in your chest, but in Jeongguk’s arms it feels safe to let go.

On Christmas day, you crown a youthful fantasy, the kind you’ll look back to even when you’re older. Jeongguk feels like he’d be the right person to stand by you to do so.

When he reluctantly detaches from you, his face keeps at a safe distance that’d allow him to go back and taste you, not before resting his forehead on yours and whispering, “Merry Christmas.”

You giggle. “Merry Christmas, Gguk.”

[sunnypopoki]

━ 𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄 : P.1

(𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺. 𝘎𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴, 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯… 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨.

ᴛᴡ: ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴏᴜʟ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ, ᴏᴠᴇʀᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀꜰᴀʙ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴇᴛᴄ.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄɪᴢᴇ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇꜱ, ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴘᴏᴋɪ ᴏɴ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, Qᴜᴏᴛᴇᴠ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ.

P.2 / P.3

When you first saw him, you were left breathless.

That was years ago though, back when you were a teenager in high school who was only worried about the acne on your forehead and the 'F' you got in your math class. Now, you were preparing to head into college to become a psychiatrist.

You met Kieran as a freshman and started dating him months after. You weren't sure why you started dating him at first, you couldn't remember what he said that left your cheeks on fire, but the feeling next stopped.

Kieran grumbled curses under his breath as he heaved the last of the groceries through the door. His long black hair was messier than normal, tied into a low bun that curled strands around the nape of his neck. His tanned cheeks were red from the cold outside and a button on his shirt was popped open. Did he tousle a bear to get inside? He put the items on the counter and turned to face you.

"The groceries didn't want to come inside," he mumbled.

"You didn't give me a chance to help you carry them in."

His dark green eyes softened. He didn't look at anyone else the same way he did you. There was a time after you got married that you were afraid that he'd leave you because the two of you were yet to be intimate... but he didn't seem to care. You were glad he didn't care. His arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed a chaste kiss against your forehead.

There it was again. Breathless.

"But you've been working all day, Котик," he cooed, his Russian accent thick whenever he muttered the pet name he always used for you. "You deserve to rest."

All you wanted to do was melt into his arms. You couldn't deny that some part of you already was, sinking further into his embrace, eyes closed—but something was amiss.

Ever since high school, Kieran has been odd. He was a transfer student from London but he was born and raised in Russia, so he was always the popular kid in any class he was placed in. Even after he got in trouble multiple times for delinquent behavior. Sure, his behavior was better than what he was in high school and he was mature, but he was a lot more secretive now. So secretive that he refused to tell you where he went whenever he disappeared for "business trips" for days on end.

Now, you were a trusting wife, but you weren't naive. He worked as an editor for authors and yet he disappeared for days on end because of work? Even a baby could realize that was odd!

That wasn't the only thing though.

You've only been married to Kieran for six months but you were already starting to see signs that he wasn't entirely focused on the marriage anymore. Whenever his phone rang, he scrambled to pick it up before you had a chance to answer it for him. On the days you scheduled to go on dates together, he always arrived late with his clothes tousled about and his hair was undone. Late, late, late! He always seemed to be late for every activity the two of you scheduled together. Of course, he'd apologize over and over again, but the behavior never changed.

So maybe he did look at someone else the same way he did you. The thought left a bitter taste on your tongue.

Is he cheating on me?

It was a thought you never thought you'd have with Kieran. Whenever the two of you were dating in high school, he was loyal to a fault. You couldn't erase the memory of whenever a girl started smack-talking you and he yanked her hard so hard that a chunk of hair came from the roots. Even now, looking at him and being held by him, the thought felt distant. But it was there. That gnawing worry got worse and worse each time he got a call, text message, or left the house.

Well, who'd he be cheating on you with? He refused to have female friends in school because he always claimed that you were the only "woman" he wanted in his life. Of course, you didn't care if he had female friends or not, but you doubted it was someone the two of you knew from high school.

Your jaw clenched. Maybe he's bothered I haven't been intimate with him and he's been going to see someone?

The bitter taste worsened. Making out and slight touches wasn't the same as sex, you knew that, which is why you were so nervous to do it, even if it was with him. He never rushed you and he hadn't ever made comments about it. You listened to the thudding of his heart against his chest and pursed your lips.

You couldn't bring yourself to ask him if he was cheating on you. What if he said yes? What if he wasn't and left you because he thought you were a psycho? What if he lied and continued to cheat? Your hands scrunched up the fabric of his shirt as you hugged him tighter. You didn't want your first love to cause you heartbreak by something as revolting as cheating.

A cold hand pressed against your cheek. Kieran tilted your head back and his eyes flickered across your face. His brow creased in worry.

"Are you okay?"

No, not really. I'm worried you might be cheating on me.

But you couldn't say that.

"Yeah! I'm fine," you beamed and pulled him closer to you. "I just missed you, that's all. It was your day off but you've been out doing errands since this morning. You first went to the pharmacy to get our medicine, then the bank, then to get groceries... aren't you tired?"

He didn't look convinced. Then again, he'd known you since you were fourteen years old, so he knew how to read you like a book. His green eyes darkened momentarily and his teeth nipped at his bottom lip. His fingers traced lines above your cheekbone, jaw, and the shell of your ear.

"I'm sorry. I should have spent more time with you today."

"No, Kieran, what are you even saying? Errands need to be run so I'm appreciative that you did them," your hands fiddled at the button that came undone on his shirt. "That can't stop me from missing you though. I just feel as if you've been..."

His fingers stopped. "What?"

You regretted saying anything at all. You should have just said you missed him after a long day and went on with it, dragged him to the couch, and asked him to watch a movie with you. Your hands pulled away from his shirt and you saw the way his body tensed up like a spring. It wasn't too late to change the conversation. Maybe lie to him and say it was just a joke, that you weren't really worried. No, no, that'd be an asshole thing to do to your spouse, to make them worry you for nothing.

"(Y/N)?"

He never says your name unless he's serious or mad. Your eyes dragged back up to meet his and his jaw was clenched. He didn't look mad, he looked worried. Almost like you just punched him in the gut and he was doing his best to stay upright.

Why did he look like that? Based on all your rushing thoughts, worried about the possibility of him cheating on you, you were the one who was struggling.

"...I just feel as if you have been distant lately," you confessed with a tight smile, "but it's okay. I know you've been busy with work and I've been busy with getting ready for my upcoming lectures next week. I'm probably just being clingy again."

He didn't say anything. You weren't sure if you were supposed to feel hurt that he said nothing or relieved, but you knew that he didn't buy a single thing you just said by the way he was looking at you. He wasn't moving from the position he had on you; hand on your cheek, tense jaw, stiff muscles, darkened gaze. He breathed slowly out through his nose and opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it.

You saw a flicker of something else in his eyes whenever he closed his mouth. Guilt.

Why does he feel guilty? you thought, dread creeping up your spine. Am I right? Is he cheating on me?

You blinked in surprise whenever he pulled you into him again. His nose nuzzled into your neck and you almost suffocated with how tight his arms wrapped around you. His lips pressed little kisses against your neck and he breathed in deeply. For a split second, you almost forgot what you were so nervous about, you almost let the worry of him cheating on you slip from your mind.

"Котик, I'm sorry you've felt so lonely. I'll be able to spend more time with you soon. It's just... work, it gets in the way of so much. But I swear, I'll be able to hang out with you tomorrow without doing anything. I promise, okay?" he let go and cupped your cheeks, "me and you can do whatever you want to do for tonight. A date? I'll do it. Go to bed early? As long as you're in my arms. Anything."

Lies were best told with a sweet tongue. You weren't even sure if he meant well by telling you that, not whenever this wasn't the first time he'd promised something like this. In the end, he always got a call which caused him to leave the house for a couple hours (or sometimes a couple of days). You were used to it by now, so you only forced a smile and nodded. His face lit up.

"We can go ahead and watch a movie now if you want?"

You blinked. Now? He usually put things off whenever it came down to sitting down and watching something. You refrained from glancing at the clock. You wanted to spend time with him but you were already fearful of how much time you could before he was called away or got distracted with something. You couldn't remember the last time you sat down and watched something with him. Though, you supposed it was better than him not being there.

"And what movie do you want to watch?"

He grinned. "I believe I said whatever you want. Maybe we can watch a horror movie? So I can..." he twirled you around and hugged you from behind, "wrap my arms around you like this and protect you from evil. Hm?"

You felt your cheeks warm. "That sounds just like an excuse to hold me."

"I'm your husband, I don't need an excuse for something like that," he kissed your cheek. "truthfully, I adore it whenever you depend on me. That includes each time there's a jumpscare and you almost shit your pants each time."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. I don't get that scared."

"You cried when we watched The Haunting of Hill House together."

"Okay, there's a difference between a demon that you can't fight and some serial killer breaking into your house! I'd rather take the serial killer. Plus, that was years ago when it first came out and it was a sad show."

You didn't miss the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly. Maybe the term 'odd' wasn't the best way to describe him with the way he has been acting recently. After the two of you graduated high school, he started to get touchy about certain topics about crime. He always had a fascination with crime back when he was a teenager in high school, but the topic suddenly became grim for him whenever he got older.

You weren't sure why. Honestly, you've never asked. The topic wasn't something you'd be able to bring up with ease, especially when he tried to change the topic each time someone wanted to talk about true crime or the news with him. You remembered that he was worried when he found out you were going to school to become a therapist... worried that you'd get stuck with a patient who did bad things.

You didn't even want to get into how paranoid he was about the police. That was a different topic entirely.

"I find something real to be much more terrifying than a fictional ghost," he murmured.

"But demons could be real!"

There was a long pause. You felt his muscles churn around you, squeezing you tighter, refusing to let you go and he mumbled seriously. "Promise me that if anyone broke into our house and you had to pick between going with them or a demon, you'd go with the demon."

"What are you on about?" you deadpanned, "I thought were talking about movies, and Kieran, I doubt a scenario like that would ever happen."

"Promise me, (Y/N). Demon or not,  you won't go with anyone who breaks into our house."

Your eyes narrowed. "Keiran, I don't have to promise you something that is common sense. I obviously won't be going with anyone who breaks into our house. You act like you think someone will."

He huffed and let go. The warmth of his embrace leaving left goosebumps all over your body. You didn't get a chance to say anything before he flashed a blinding smile, chuckling.

"I was just making sure. You've always been a daredevil, so I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't try and challenge anyone who barged into our house. I doubt anyone would break in anyway."

It was only natural that you didn't believe him. There were a lot of stories where people said that their partners changed after marriage, sometimes for the better or the worse, and you weren't sure if Kieran's change was good or bad. His paranoid nature only made it hard to believe that he wasn't cheating on you. He was clingy before he married you, but he was overly clingy and sweet now. Which was odd because he was often out of the house or on phone calls...

It was just, well, odd.

"Oh... okay then. Do you need help putting up the groceries before we watch a movie?"

"No need, Котик. You can prepare the movie for us to watch. Choose anything you want."

There was a game you played. Each time you noticed Kieran avoid looking you in the eye, you took three gulps of breath. It was mostly a game you played to calm yourself down from the rush of anxiety you felt each time he did. It left you wondering if you did something wrong, if you made him pissed and he didn't want to look at you anymore. Your lips curled into a frown.

He could just be watching a movie so I wouldn't complain about missing him.

You nodded silently and turned on your heel. It would be best to ignore that entire conversation happened. Worrying over his suspicious and paranoid behavior wouldn't change the fact that he was acting that way. You glanced at him one more time as he placed the milk into the fridge. Yeah. Don't worry about it. Just don't worry.

The living room was down the hallway to the left. The floorboards squealed at the weight and you sighed whenever you walked to the couch, picking up the remote and turning it on.  The two of you didn't have a lot of streaming services so almost everything you watched was on Netflix. Your fingers tapped around and you absentmindedly scrolled through the list of movies.

You were tempted to throw on a movie that you already watched. However, it was supposed to be time spent together and you knew he'd get bored if you clicked something that he had already watched. You clicked a random scary movie. The name was confusing and it looked like a found-footage aesthetic, something about the catacombs under Paris and the philosopher's stone.

"I'm sure he hasn't watched this..."

"Watched what?"

You jumped whenever he clamped a hand on your shoulder. Whipping around on the sofa, Kieran was leaning over the back with a sly smirk on his face.

"Already scared?" he chuckled, "I have a gut feeling you're going to be clinging to me throughout this entire movie."

You pursed your lips. He already got all the groceries done that fast? You knew that he didn't like to waste time but he was insanely fast doing that. He massaged your shoulders whenever he noticed the frown you had, his smile growing wider by the second. He jumped over the back of the couch effortlessly and plopped down right beside you.

"Why are you frowning, my sweet Котик?"

"You got done way too fast with putting the groceries away" you squinted. "It's not normal."

He inhaled. There was a rasp in the back of his throat whenever he leaned forward, his breath tickling your skin. The air was knocked from your lungs whenever his gaze flickered to your lips and back up to yours. "Would you believe me if I told you that I have been craving to be close to you? Especially to kiss you..."

Heat crept up the back of your neck. All the worries you had melted away whenever he pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He wasn't avoiding your eyes, now he was staring so intently that you were afraid that you were going to become a puddle of goo in his arms. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip.

"Mm, can I kiss you?"

"...do you have to ask?"

He chuckled breathlessly, "Yes. It's polite."

"But you're my husband."

"Yes, I am."

His lips smashed against yours. Anything you wanted to say was thrown out the window whenever his hands gripped your waist and yanked your body against his. His hand brushed up your spine, up your neck, brushing over your hair and going to cup your face. His lips were cold and his nose was too, breath smelling like the mint gum he always seemed to chew. The hint of his cologne tickled your nose.

Your hands ran up his arms and you tugged at the collar of his shirt. He was still a ruffled mess from when he came in from outside. His hair was a knotted mess that needed to be brushed out, but that didn't stop your hands from tangling in the strands and tugging at them. A groan tore through his lips.

"God, you're so fucking perfect," he whispered against your lips. "I don't want to stop kissing you now. Mmm, do we have to watch the movie? I want to give you more kisses."

You almost agreed. "...But the movie is already waiting to be played."

He licked his teeth and his hands ran up and down your back. He swallowed and you noticed the dip of his adam's apple, his eyes staring at your lips again. "Of course, we should watch the movie, but..."

"But what?"

"Can I kiss you even more after the movie?"

The fire in your cheeks felt like your skin was melting off. There were times when it felt like you were in high school again, getting all flustered because of his needy nature. Ever since you have known him he has always been the type to enjoy kisses. Even something as chaste as a peck on the forehead, he was a sucker for it. Whenever the two of you first started dating, he'd get so red each time you kissed his cheek, stammering over nothing and quickly kissing your cheek back and scurrying away.

Now look at him. He was pulling you in, begging for more, kissing you like you were his only source of oxygen. He even kissed you like that on your wedding day. His entire family was whooping and cheering after that, and your few family members who attended frowned. You remembered being embarrassed at the time... but you were glad that something like that didn't change.

"Very well. You can kiss me all you want after the movie. Don't try and sneak some in while we are watching, because then you won't focus on the movie at all," you mumbled.

"You're flustered so easily, Котик," he grinned. He leaned into the couch and placed his arm around the back, fiddling with your sleeve as he rested his cheek against your head. "But fineeee. I guess I'll obey your orders for now."

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. It only took you a couple of seconds for you to get comfortable and curl into his side, shuffling to find the remote as he tugged a blanket over you both. You never got an answer on if he watched it before or not but by the way his eyes were glued to the screen whenever you clicked play, you assumed not.

Time became a blur. Now and again he'd comment on the movie or just something toward you, but his arm never moved from its spot behind you. He curled his legs up on the couch and mumbled complaints under his breath whenever he saw the characters do something stupid.

You started to forget your anxieties. Even just for a short while, it was nice to relax with him and to feel him close without having to worry about him leaving to go on some 'business trip'. You were focusing on him too much to even care about the movie. The way his lips formed a thin line whenever he was annoyed, his rapid blinking each time something shocking happened, bouncing his leg up and down.

It was impossible to not love him.

He noticed you staring. His cheeks turned a little pink. "What?"

"Nothing."

His ego would explode if you told him you were staring at him just because he was fun to watch. Hearing his endless teasing wasn't something you were in the mood to hear, so you just feigned looking back at the movie to watch it. His eyes burned into the side of your head for a second long before he looked back to the screen.

You glanced back at him. He was sucked into the TV again. He chewed on the edge of his knuckle and you let your eyes wander. You stared at the tattoos that peeked out from under his collar and sleeve. All those colorful tattoos were hidden away. He had some of them before you met him, which you always found surprising that he had tattoos at such a young age, but he just said "It ran in the family".

It was addicting to trace your fingers over them. Kieran liked laying around shirtless whenever it was summer. You always used to visit his old apartment to sit with him and let him read his books while you doodled on his arms and called them 'new tattoos' while you colored in his blank tattoos. Butterflies fluttered whenever you remembered the way he smiled at you each time you drew on him.

He had so many tattoos that you weren't sure how many he had. Some were in Russian, but a lot of them were creatures from folklore and mythology. Like Baba Yaga, who came from Slavic Folklore, which was tattooed on his right hip. You always used to doodle accessories onto her face.

"Котик, are you going to continue staring at me or are you going to watch the movie?"

You quickly avoided his gaze and looked at the TV. "I am watching the movie."

"Surreee."

Everything was fine for a while. A while, you said, because it didn't take long for all that built-up hope and affection to come back down from its high. Soon enough you'd be feeling the withdrawal. You were in the middle of watching the characters climb through a tunnel of bones whenever a phone started to ring loudly. It bounced off the walls and jarred Kieran out of his trance.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

Your smile fell. Kieran cursed.

The arm slung around your shoulder tensed, his hand curling into a fist that turned his knuckles white. His jaw flexed, and the phone rang for a couple more seconds before he moved from the couch and grabbed his phone from the cushion.

It was bad luck. You were convinced that you were cursed with bad luck. A sour taste bubbled in your chest and coated your tongue. Biting at the inside of your cheek, you shut the TV off completely as that swell of expectation came back. The remote was tossed to the side and the blanket slipped to the floor.

You caught a glimpse of the phone screen before he answered it. UNKNOWN. Of course, it was another random number that he didn't have saved to his contacts. You clutched the blanket in your lap and a lump formed in your throat. Seriously? Why were you going to cry? You knew that he wouldn't be focused on you forever. It also wasn't like you knew he was cheating on you, you had no proof, it was just a suspicion. But that didn't stop the familiar sting of tears welling up behind your eyes.

You knew it was a lie whenever he promised to spend the rest of the day with you, you weren't sure why you let your hopes get up. But it still hurt.

He pressed the device to his ear and snapped.

"What?"

Just who was it that made him sound like that? You've never heard him sound so hateful, so nasty, to just some random caller on the phone. That meant he knew who was calling him even when the number popped up. The random person he didn't have saved in his phone. Someone he possibly didn't want to be linked to.

Thousands of questions tumbled through your mind. Kieran wasn't interested in men, so if he was cheating, it wasn't a man... unless he was interested in men and hasn't told you? He has a lot of male friends. No, no, having friends of any gender doesn't just mean that you'll sleep with them or have a second life with them behind your partner. So if it was a woman... where would he have met her? Maybe it was a client and he was editing her book?

He did read a lot of articles. There was always the possibility that it was a writer of those, right? Wait—

I'm not being a good wife right now, you thought. Your nails picked at your cuticles. I'm just assuming things without any proof. Am I being like one of those psychotic, obsessive wives? Is there something wrong with me? What if I'm the issue?

Your bottom lip wobbled. You clamped your teeth on it to keep Kieran from noticing.

He started to pace and ramble around the room in Russian. He didn't seem to be talking to anyone, mostly to himself in frustration, as his hand was placed on his hip and he cursed under his breath. There were many times in your life when you wished you knew Russian; when you first met him, to impress him, to have conversations with him, to learn his culture and language... now you were more concerned if he was frustrated about a girl or not.

The only Russian word you knew that he actively said around you was 'Котик', a Russian term of endearment meant for a lover which meant "kitten" or "kitty". You didn't need to jump leaps to guess what it meant even if it was a somewhat cheesy term to use (at least in your opinion), but you never argued, since he has called you it since the two of you were teenagers.

"I thought I told you to—"

Kieran cut himself off quickly whenever he realized you were still in the room with him. He dragged the phone away from his ear and his eyes snapped to you, his face falling into despair whenever he noticed the TV was off and you were staring up at him. Another broken promise. Another lie. Another phone call he just had to pick up, that he couldn't ignore for one night. Just how many more broken promises were you going to take before you finally asked him why he couldn't keep them?

Damn it. You really wanted to cry.

Even if it wasn't him cheating on you, even if it was work, some part of you wished that he included you in it as well. You were aware that you weren't supposed to be in every single part of his life. The two of you were supposed to be comfortable in the relationship, not joined at the hip breathing down each other's necks.

You just didn't get it. It wasn't like 'work' was going to straight up kill him if he didn't answer the phone for one night!

Kieran didn't know what to do. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at you with so many open emotions on his face that you couldn't read all of them. But he knew what he had done. He picked up the phone and that alone was enough to break a promise, even if he hadn't left the house. Yet. You knew how it worked—he always left the house after late phone calls like this. You were slowly starting to get used to the feeling of falling asleep without him there. And some mornings, he wasn't in bed either, only a note left on the counter with breakfast he made.

His shoulders sank. "Котик, I... uhm, I need to take this phone call real quick so I'm going to step into the other room, okay? I'll be right back though and me and you can finish the movie—"

Liar.

"Uhm... I think I'm just going to go to bed. I'm starting to feel tired anyway. Uh, make sure to lock the door behind you whenever you go out."

He always did. You weren't sure why you were reminding him.

Deep down, some part of you wanted him to feel guilty. It was that small whisper of hope that if he felt guilty then maybe he'd start changing things for the better, to start telling you why he was so secretive, and to start sleeping in your bed again. You missed the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. Sure, some nights he did fall asleep in your bed. But some nights weren't most nights, and most nights weren't every night.

I miss a man who's right in front of me.

His entire expression crumpled. He opened his mouth to say something but faltered, watching as you got up and threw the blanket the two of you were sharing back on the couch. Oh how badly he looked like he wanted to say something. And how badly you felt about yourself whenever you saw his expression, because seeing him feel guilty didn't bring satisfaction, it only made your heart hurt more.

"(Y/N), I—"

"It's okay," you flashed a smile, "I'll talk to you tomorrow morning."

If he'd be there tomorrow morning.

You didn't give him a chance to respond before you turned on your heel and scurried to the bedroom. The house which you picked with him seven months ago now felt cold and lonely compared to the warm idea you had when you first saw it. Tears sprung forth whenever you closed the door behind you, choking into your elbow as you did your best to muffle the small sobs that let your lips. You couldn't hear him anymore or the muffled rambling over the phone.

The room was dark. The floorboards were ice cold and you didn't bother to brush your teeth, wash your face, or change into pajamas before you crawled under the covers and hid.

Emotions were a complicated thing. You hated how they felt and how it was so hard to understand them. All you wanted was for Kieran to come to you and have a conversation about what was going on, but now you were dreading that he would because you didn't want him to see that you were crying. He always got so panicked whenever you cried. Always brushing away your tears, cooing sweet things in your ear, kissing your face and neck anywhere he could.

Which made you wish he did see you cry.

See? Emotions were complicated.

You don't know how long you laid in bed. You only heard the whir and popping of heat rushing through the vents, warming up the room until you were toasty under the thick blankets. There were times when you swore you heard a shout from the other room, muffled and something you couldn't understand, but then it was gone. Possibly a figment of your imagination, maybe it was Kieran shouting over the phone.

Your day started with a good start. Then everything deescalated in a whirlwind of emotions that you didn't know how to control. All the suspicions you had about Kieran were becoming worse and worse.

If he is cheating on me, you thought. What would I do?

The idea of divorcing him left your heart aching. Ever since you started dating him, you've never wanted to leave him, but cheating would mean you'd have to. While you loved him, you didn't love him enough to stay if he was living some second life with another woman. You gnawed on the edge of your thumb and curled your legs up to your chest.

If you divorced him, you'd have to find somewhere cheap to stay where you could still go to college and not sleep in the streets. No way your parents would let you stay with them until you got back onto your feet, they didn't like you marrying Kieran in the first place because of his delinquent behavior in school and the fact he wasn't going to college. They'd probably tell you 'I told you so' and let you rot.

The part-time job you had now wasn't enough to live in a decent apartment. The two of you lived on the outskirts of the city,  you wouldn't be able to afford a good apartment in the city closest to campus so you would have to settle in one of the apartment complexes near the beat-down part of the city, where a lot of reports of trafficking and crime were made.

A shiver shot down your spine. While the apartments there weren't the cleanest or nicest, the issue of rampant crime was the most concerning. You'd have to buy a taser or pepper spray, something like that. Or learn martial arts? You'd have to find a teacher that wasn't expensive.

Why am I even thinking about this?

Guilt crashed into you like a barreling stampede of horses. Tears blurred your vision as you nuzzled into the pillow and whimpered, muttering soft apologies under your breath. You hated how your mind worked. One thought and you'd take it and run, not giving the chance for hope and optimism to spark. You had to remind yourself for the umpteenth time that you didn't have any proof that Kieran was cheating.

You were the bad one for treating him like he was whenever you didn't know. At least, that was what you believed. Other wives acted better than you. They trusted their partners, but here you were, already daydreaming about your life if Kieran was cheating on you. Just a was.

Soft footsteps broke you from your thoughts.

The door creaked open and light poured into the dark. You stayed still under the blankets, face hidden away in the pillows to keep the sight of your tear-streaked face away from him. The floorboards creaked a little bit the bed shifted whenever you felt him sit down and lean across. His familiar touch grazed your cheek and traced the contours of your face. He sighed.

"Котик, are you awake?"

You didn't respond. Not this time.

He tugged the blankets down and there was another sigh. His fingers trailed farther downward and rubbed circles on your back and patterns that only he understood. He mumbled under his breath to himself. "She didn't change into something comfortable... not even the belt."

It took everything in your power to not move whenever his fingers fiddled with the metal clasp of your belt and he slipped them from the loops. He put the belt on the other side of the bed and the mattress shifted whenever he got closed, strands of his hair tickling your cheek whenever he leaned over. He pressed a kiss on your jaw.

"Ah fuck," he grumbled.

What is that supposed to mean?

Then there were more kisses; jaw, cheek, forehead, lips. He attacked you in kisses and every now and again he'd sigh and stop to trail his hands across your head or over your back. You could tell he refreshed his cologne. It was subtle but it was there, tickling your nose each time he moved to kiss another part of your face.

"Котик, if you're awake, I'll be back tomorrow evening and we can watch all the movies you want. I'm sorry I'm heading out again, but some people at work are being really stupid right now," he whispered against your ear. He kissed it tenderly. "I'll buy you your favorite ice cream on the way back home too. I know you'll be happy with that..."

There was a long pause. He didn't move.

"I love you."

Maybe he waited for you to respond, to say 'I love you' back, but you didn't. It wasn't that you didn't love him... god, the one reason why everything hurt so much was that you did, but you didn't dare to confess that you were pretending to sleep just to avoid talking to him. You didn't want Kieran to hear your voice cracking from crying. Especially since now, you knew he was leaving the house again.

You didn't believe him when he said it was work and you felt guilty that you didn't. He was an editor, he worked from home or his rented-out office, and it wasn't like he had people who worked underneath him.

"Котик, I'll make it up to you, I promise," he whispered.

He didn't say anything else except for a lingering kiss on your temple before he got off the bed. The weight of his body leaving felt more familiar than him being there. Kieran blew a breath and muttered something in Russian before he left the room. The door clicked shut behind him and you were left in the dark alone once more.

The emotions you felt earlier surged back up to the surface. Your nails bit into your palms and tears trickled down your cheeks and dropped onto the pillow. All you wanted was for him to get in bed with you, hold you, fall asleep, and still be there whenever you woke up the next morning.

So instead of facing them and bawling, you swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes. Sleeping it off was better than facing it. Soon enough, you'd find out what he was hiding and what this "work" meant. Your small cries were muffled as you did your best to fall asleep before you got too heavy into your thoughts and cried even harder.

Luckily for you, sadness was exhausting, and you crashed before the clock hit midnight.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/N ;

So you might have noticed the reader isn’t a Mary Sue or know it all. I tried to make her realistic, someone who’s insecure in her relationship, etc. So I hope that came across well. If you don’t like her, remember she’s human, she can change and develop in the story. She isn’t going to be perfect.

But anyway, did you enjoy this first chapter? You can also find it on my Wattpad and Quotev, which is listed on the top of my account. My discord server is also listed there! Remember to comment and heart if you enjoyed it.

[ Read P.2 ]

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Ghost Eater

Summary: You don't like exorcists. They don't much like you either.

-----

You’d always thought big restaurants like the Brownie Industry only did well in small, midwestern towns like the one you came from. A year working in LA has taught you that, no matter where you go, people will always love garlic bread and sugar.

It’s your day off which means you’re pulling a double shift. You haven’t had time to wash your hair for the past two weeks so it’s frizzing out of your claw clip and flying wild around your face. The lighting is so dim that you’ve tripped over two black purses already, luckily not while you’re running food. The big dining room sounds like an apiary with the tittering laughter of the later adult crowd that’s filtered in from the theater across the four lane road. The main difference between the Brownie Industry here and the one back home is size. The ceiling soars overhead, supported by a series of concrete pillars separating the dining area into three sections.

Normally it would be three servers per section. Today, it’s just you in yours.

One more hour. That’s what the manager promised you. It might even be true if the host stand quits seating you after the table you’re approaching.

There are three people at the table. A woman whose hair might be light blonde or gray in the light of day, her eyes light and piercing. Her face is soft from age, emphasized by the tight, lace collar of her off-season sweater. She reminds you strongly of your mom’s nemesis on the HOA board. The man couldn’t be more out of place next to her despite their equivalent age. He’s wearing a leather jacket – again, it’s not cold here – and a Norwegian metal shirt underneath. His hair is definitely white, so white it almost glows. He’s frowning at the teenager across the table as if she’s touched his motorcycle without permission.

The teenager might be the first you’ve seen all night who doesn’t have their phone out. She’s decked out in what you consider grandma florals – a t-shirt scattered with daisy chains, a bucket hat made out of nana’s carpet bag, and a hand-crocheted scarf in pastel.  You can’t really see her face under the shadow of her hat and there’s an odd, blurred quality to the way she fiddles with her napkin. You let your eyes skip past her and back to the two adults. Teenagers don’t pay the bill.

“Welcome to Brownie Industry!” you chirp. You’re sweaty and red but the faded yellow light hides that. You’re a service industry pro so none of your exhaustion shows on your face when you ask, “Is this your first-time dining with us?”

If you weren’t so burned out, you’d have noticed before you introduced yourself.

“Are you Grady?” the woman asks. Her voice is more posh than you expected even with her lace collar. “Grady Pace?”

Fuck. There’s a noticeable temperature differential now that you’re close to them. The restaurant is warm from the number of bodies, maybe even warmer than the summer air outside, but stepping up next to their table feels like walking into an ice rink.

“I’m your waitress,” you say. You don’t have time for this conversation. You’ve got five minutes in your cycle to take their order and then you’ve got food to run. “If you need any other services from me, I have a website.”

“We messaged you,” the man says. His lips thin to the point his thick mustache covers them entirely. “You never responded.”

Because you’ve been making more money at the Brownie Industry than your other job. “I’ll take a look at it tonight.”

“Wait,” the teenager says, sitting upright. She looks from you to the adults and back again. When she smiles, there’s no humor in it. “This is why we drove eight hours to have dinner at the Brownie Industry? For her?”

“Katie, be polite—”

“I’m sorry,” Katie says, “It’s just—I found a priest, you know? An actual exorcist priest and you guys want to trust a waitress over him?”

“Ugh exorcists,” you say. The memory of sour cabbage is so heavy on your tongue that you stick your tongue out in disgust. When you see Katie’s look, you backtrack. “Effective! Definitely effective.”

“Your mistakes have cost us too much already,” the man says, shaking a finger at her. “We are not converting just for an exorcism.”

“I normally don’t agree with your father,” the woman tells Katie, “but in this case I would like to leave conversion as a last resort.”

“We wouldn’t actually convert,” Katie says, rolling her eyes.

“Pretty sure exorcists can tell when you lie,” you tell Katie. When her scowl deepens, you clear your throat. “Did you all need another minute to think about the menu?”

“We need you to help us,” the dad says. He scrubs a hand over his face. “Look, I know you’re at work and I’m sorry we’re bothering you.”

“We’re desperate,” the mom says. She reaches for her purse. “We’ll pay you. Triple the rate on your website or even quadruple. We need that thing gone by tonight.”

Katie covers her face. “Mom. You’re embarrassing me. Terry isn’t that bad.”

“Oh, he’s bad, young lady,” the dad says sternly. “A bad influence.”

“We caught her trying to perform another séance yesterday,” the mom confesses to you. She leans forward with a pinched expression. “So Terry’s friend Larry could visit too.”

“Interesting,” you say. The food bell rings, but you think you can ignore it for another minute. You study Katie’s blush. “Why did you do that?”

If she was being compelled, she won’t have an answer to your question. You’ve dealt with a lot of ghosts in your time, but so few are sentient enough – or powerful enough – for compulsion.

“Go on,” the dad says, gesturing at you. “Tell her.”

“Leroy, she’s embarrassed enough,” the mom says.

“No, she’s not, Sarah.” The dad – Leroy – gestures to you again. “Tell her.”

Katie huffs, clearly resistant. But when her dad huffs back, she caves. “So,” she says, “I have this YouTube channel—”

“I’m off in an hour,” you interrupt. You don’t care that you’re being rude. Your patience ran out as soon as she said YouTube. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.” You turn to go.

“A moment!” Sarah shakes out her menu. “How’s the nicoise salad?”

Of course they’re going to order. They’d better tip too if they want you to help them with their ghost problem.

----.

“You said an hour,” mom Sarah says when you leave out the employee entrance. She’s shivering next to her daughter. Leroy is off smoking behind his motorcycle, parked next to the Tesla Katie is leaning on, but he stubs out his cigarette on the asphalt when you walk up. “It’s been two.”

“I had side work,” you say instead of it would have been one if not for you. You rub your bare arms when the familiar ghost chill washes over you. You want nothing more than to go home and wash the scent of garlic and brownie batter out of your hair. “Was there something wrong with my service?”

“No?”

You try to make your voice light. “I see.”

Sarah frowns at your tone anyway. “Why?”

“You tipped five dollars.”

Katie jolts like a scalded cat. “Mom!”

Leroy scrubs a hand over his face. “Sarah…”

“What?” Sarah throws up her hands. The parking lot lights catch on her Swarovski charm bracelet. “I tipped!”

“Like ten percent,” Katie says. She pulls her bucket hat over her eyes for a beat and then peeks at you from under it. “I’m so sorry. It’s not you, she’s always like this.”

“It was actually a six percent tip,” you say. You’re getting a clearer picture of this little family now. It’s becoming more and more understandable why Katie might have started summoning ghosts. “If you want to be precise.”

Leroy reaches for his back pocket. “Let me.”

Sarah swats at his hand. “We’re about to pay her a lot more than that!”

“For a completely separate job,” Leroy says. He pulls a twenty from his wallet and hands it to you with a grimace. “Sorry, Grady, I should’ve checked.”

“You should’ve paid if you cared so much,” Sarah retorts. She folds her arms over her chest. She taps her cheek and widens her eyes. “Oh wait… you never pay.”

“Sure,” Leroy says. This time it’s his turn to throw his hands in the air. “Sure, Sarah. I don’t pay for anything to do with our daughter’s private school or her dance classes or her health insurance—”

“If the court hadn’t mandated—”

“You make twice as much as me—"

“Guys!” Katie says loudly. Her mouth is a thin line of upset when she says, “Argue about what an expensive burden I am later when we don’t have an audience, okay?”

Her parents speak at the same time.

“You’re twisting my words,” Sarah says. “I never said—"

“Sweetie, you’re not a burden—”

“Can you just get this ghost out of me?” Katie asks you. She goes for nonchalance and falls short. “My parents haven’t been in the same room for the last five years for a reason.” She fakes whispering. “They don’t play nicely with others.”

Sarah bristles. “Katie.”

“God, I know how that is,” you say. The whole interaction is giving you the worst case of sympathy for Katie. Before her parents can say anything else, you change the subject. “How long have you been haunted?”

“Six months,” Katie says. She fiddles with her bucket hat so that you can see her eyes for the first time. They’re brown, like her dad’s, and have heavy bruises underneath. She shrugs. “They only noticed a month ago though.”

“I noticed your behavior had changed,” Sarah defends. Like her daughter, she fidgets. She plays with her bracelet and clears her throat. “I thought it was a teenage thing.”

“What signs did you notice first?” you ask the parents. They glance at each other and then away.

“Let’s just say we noticed different things,” Leroy says dryly. He pulls out his phone.

“Moodiness,” Sarah says. She ticks them off on her fingers. “Laziness. Disrespect. Over-sleeping.”

“Those are just teenager things,” Katie says with an astounding level of self awareness. She shrugs. “I’m a senior now. They’re lucky it didn’t start sooner.”

“I,” Leroy says, “noticed this.” He turns his phone towards you.

“Ah,” Sarah says, “Yes. That.”

You examine the picture. It’s of Katie on a small dirt bike. She’s wearing a helmet in the picture, but you recognize the fashion sense in the floral boots she’s wearing. The scene behind her is of the hills, low scrub brush recognizable to someone who’s lived in LA for the past five years. On the bike behind her is a smudge. It could be a cloud of dirt blown into frame or maybe a camera glitch. It could be if it weren’t for the leering face emerging from the cloud right behind her head.

“I just want to say I did not agree to getting her a motorcycle,” Sarah says.

“Mom, not the point,” Katie says.

“Look how close that creep is to my daughter,” Leroy says. He jabs a finger at Katie’s waist in the photo where you can see a ghostly hand. “I want him gone.”

“Dad, he didn’t mean anything by it!” Katie turns to you earnestly. “Terry never rode a bike before and I thought, like, what if he moved on after he got a chance to? It was a philanthropic effort!”

“Plant a tree if you want to be a philanthropist,” Leroy growls. “I want this guy away from my daughter.”

“He doesn’t mean any harm really,” Katie says. “He would move on if he could! He says he’s stuck to me because of how I summoned him. He’s like, really sorry. He even spelled out Sorry in the bathroom mirror once.”

“What,” Sarah says in a dangerous voice, “was Terry doing in the bathroom with you, Katie?”

Katie splutters. “Mom, don’t be gross!”

The family descends into bickering. You have heard about ghosts being stuck to a person before, but usually that’s when the person has some sort of psychic powers. Katie’s wearing crystal in her ears, but they aren’t charged. She might develop some talent later in life, but right now she’s a normal girl.

The parking lost is nearly empty now. You recognize a few employee cars, but very few customers. The kitchen will be cleaning for another half hour before they’re ready to go home.  The reality is that, if Terry is stuck, you might not be the best way to handle the situation. If he’s not…

Well.

It’s time to talk to Terry.

Opening your ghost sense is hard to describe. Some psychics liken it to a third eye, right in the middle of their forehead. You’ve always thought that sounded really cool like maybe the world gets cast in a blue hue when they do it and the dead appear like they do in movies. You’ve met other psychics who say it’s like a sixth sense. They know where the ghost is and it’s like they download all that information until their minds can just sort of conjure their image.

For you, it’s like letting your body remember it has a second mouth. Cats have an extra sensory organ on the roof of their mouth that lets them detect scents better. Your second mouth is a bit like that. You can still smell brownies and garlic and the city air of LA, but you can also smell/taste something else.

Something like…pepper?

Your eyes water and you sneeze so viciously that your eyes close. When you open them again, four people are staring at you in surprise.

“Gesundheit,” Leroy says.

“You sneeze like Dad does,” Katie says.

“Did no one ever teach you to cover your mouth?” Sarah asks in disgust.

“I wish you would’ve sneezed on her,” Terry says, nodding to Sarah. “She’s such a bitch.”

“Thank you for the commentary, everyone,” you say. You wipe your nose with the collar of your shirt as you consider Terry. It’s dirty anyway. “Terry. Interesting name for a ghost.”

Terry hasn’t noticed that you can see him yet. He’s floating behind Katie, one arm casually flung over her shoulder. It’s hard to place when he died based on his appearance alone. His hair is chin length, emphasizing the width of his jaw. Squire cuts have been popular for several decades and the bowling shirt he’s wearing could either be a modern fashion statement or a dated uniform. He looks to be in his mid-twenties, sun-kissed and with the air of someone who tells a lot of jokes at the expense of others. His arm around Katie strikes you as possessive, the glare he gives her parents venomous.

“I didn’t name him,” Katie says. “He said it’s short of Torrance.”

You blink. “Wouldn’t he be Torri then?”

“That’s a girl’s name,” Katie and Terry say at the same time. Their cadence is so close that it actually sounds like Terry’s baritone comes out of Katie’s mouth. For a moment, his arm flickers, clipping into her shoulder like a bad animation. When it does, Terry’s form grows brighter, more solid. Then Katie shivers and he’s forced out of her.

You and Terry click your tongues at the same time.

You remember how Katie’s hands seemed to blur at the dinner table. Terry’s not just haunting Katie. He’s trying to possess her. You wonder if that’s why Katie looked up an exorcist rather than a simple spiritual cleansing. Did she know how much danger she was in?

“Okay,” you say. You tear your attention away from Katie and Terry for a moment. Business first. “Sarah. Leroy. Who was it that found my site?”

“I did,” Sarah says. She raises her chin when you can’t hide your surprise. “When Katie was looking up exorcists—”

“She didn’t mean it,” Terry says. He pats Katie’s hat. “Right?”

“—I looked up alternative solutions,” Sarah says, not having heard Terry. Her confidence falters for a moment and she rubs her arm. “I have had some… negative experiences with exorcisms. I don’t want my daughter to go through that.”

Katie’s head whips towards her mother. “What? I didn’t know that.”

“It was a long time ago,” Leroy says. For the first time, he reaches out and hugs Sarah with one arm. You don’t know what surprises you more; Leroy hugging Sarah or Sarah leaning into his side. “When Sarah told me, we decided to put our differences aside. I vetted you through some of my contacts and they all agreed you’d be a safe bet.”

“I am,” you say. You’re not bragging either. You’re probably the safest bet in half the western states besides your older sister. “There are some…peculiarities in my method.”

“Charlatan,” Terry whispers in Katie’s ear. He’s grinning now. “Only charlatans are that confident. Look! She can’t even see me!”

Katie looks doubtful.

Usually, you’d try to talk to Terry at this point. Sometimes spirits can be negotiated with. They can be encouraged to move on or to take on a less aggressive form of haunting. Those that are truly stuck can be helped with the right sort of ritual work. But the way Terry’s affecting Katie’s mood and that fucking arm around her shoulders…

You don’t really want to talk to Terry.

“We can ask Terry to move on,” you tell the family.

“Nooooooo,” Terry says and flips you off. “Pass!”

“Sometimes spirits don’t realize how deeply they’re affecting their hosts,” you say.

“You don’t even know how deep I’m about to be,” Terry jeers at you.

“Many ghosts are confused when they’re called to interact with the living,” you say. “It can blur their understanding of death and, as a result, they cling to life. If they stick around long enough, their presence will affect the living like what’s happening to Katie. It’s not always malicious. It can be a symptom of that confusion.”

“Katie, tell her to piss off,” Terry hisses in the teen’s ear. “I’m not confused, I’m bored.” His voice deepens. “Tell her we don’t need her help. Tell her we’re going home.”

Katie opens her mouth robotically. “That’s…” Her brow creases as she tries to figure out what she was going to say. “It seems like we don’t need help then. Terry will move on when he’s ready, like I thought.”

“We aren’t paying you for a ghost therapy session,” Sarah snaps. It’s only because you’re really focusing that you can see the unease under her anger. She’s noticed something wrong with Katie. “Katie, Terry is going away today.”

“Fuck you,” Terry says.

“Fuck you,” Katie says.

Leroy’s head rears back. “Katie, you don’t use that language with your mother!”

“Fuck you too,” Katie and Terry say. The parking lot lights flicker.

“No, fuck you, Terry,” you say, stepping between Katie and her parents. Leroy starts like he’s going to pull you out of the way, but he doesn’t.

“Terry?” Leroy asks. He looks scared. “Terry said that? Is Terry possessing my daughter?”

“Not yet.” You eye Terry’s arm and the way his fingers are sinking into Katie’s arm.

“Oh fuck,” Terry says. He doesn’t look scared. Not yet. Instead, he grins. “You can see me.”

“Not every ghost is malicious,” you tell the parents without taking your eyes off Terry. “But some are.”

“I’m not malicious.” Terry runs a hand through his hair, still grinning. The parking lot lights flicker overhead again. “I care about Katie a lot.”

“Terry’s never hurt me,” Katie says.

You ignore her. She’s not even shaking Terry off now. Her gaze is dull on your face when you say, “I don’t mean to sound like I’m some sort of ghost therapist. However, it’s important to differentiate between malicious and non-malicious hauntings in my practice. My methods are unconventional and, if used indiscriminately, I can get in a lot of trouble.”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Leroy says. He steps into your periphery. His gaze flicks from you to the spot you’re staring at over Katie’s shoulder. “We want Terry gone.”

“Not a soul,” Sarah promises. She comes up on your other side. “Please help our daughter.”

“Terry,” you say. Your second mouth is yawning wide somewhere in the back of your brain. The taste of pepper isn’t as overwhelming now. “Last chance. Renounce your claim on Katie’s soul and slither back into whatever hole you came out of.”

“We’re soulmates,” Terry says. He bares his teeth at you. “Go on, Charlatan. Call on your God to banish me. I’ve been around for decades and no exorcist has ever been able to put a scratch on me. And when they manage to push me out?” He laughs and the temperature drops another ten degrees. An unholy light flickers in his eyes. “I just come right back.”

“Then I guess I won’t feel guilty,” you say.

“Guilty?” Katie asks.

You walk forward two steps and grab Terry’s face. Terry’s skin is soft and jelly-like. His facial bones undulate like rubber under your grip. “Hi, Terry.”

Now Terry’s afraid. “What the fuck, you can touch—?”

“Bye, Terry.” You drag him towards you. His fingers pop out of Katie’s arm with a wet sucking sound, and he claws at your wrist.

“Wait! Waitwaitwaitwait--”

You eat Terry.

People come from all around to eat at the Brownie Industry. They love the density of the desserts and the heaps of garlic spread over home-baked (shipped frozen) rolls. It’s a treat to know you’re always going to enjoy the meal even if you’re far from home or eating at the same location a hundred times. It’s consistency, sugar and butter. An easy addiction to have.

Eating ghosts is like that for you. They fizz in your second mouth like champagne and melt like fudge. It’s hard to describe and the ephemeral quality of it sends shivers down your spine. Somewhere Terry is screaming in anguish, maybe crying. You think that the family you’re helping is screaming something too, but the sensation of eating is so consuming you can’t hear the words.

Terry is younger than other ghosts you’ve eaten. He doesn’t have the depth of flavor you’d once been addicted to back in Illinois. The best ghost you’ve ever eaten had been like a six-course meal with all the centuries she’d been carrying. In comparison, Terry is like a bag of pepper chips. Interesting, but gone in a moment. Still, he hits the spot.

When you’re done, you burp a purple cloud of ectoplasm into the still night air.

Leroy is the first to speak. His eyes are so wide you can see the whites all around them. “Pay her, Sarah,” he says breathlessly. His hands shake as he reaches for Katie, steadying her on her feet. “Now.”

You smack your lips and graciously accept the wad of cash Sarah hands you. You raise your eyebrows. “This is more than three times my rate.”

“Consider it a tip,” Sarah says. She’s more composed than Leroy, but still pale. She studies you. “That was…revolting.”

“You didn’t have to watch,” you say. You put your money away and then perk up at a sudden thought. “Hey, if you can, can you leave me a review on my site?”

“I thought you didn’t want us to tell anyone?”

You wave your hand. “Secrets are bad for business. Besides, Terry deserved it. I’m sure they’ll understand if you write that in your review.”

“They…?”

You smile and don’t answer.

The family don’t ask many more questions after that. The parents promise to leave a review and Katie just stares at you as if concussed. You assure the parents that she’ll be back to normal as soon as the soul-shock wears off. 

“And if it doesn’t?” Sarah asks.

“Message me,” you say.

“You don’t check your messages,” Leroy says.

“Oh,” you say, patting your stomach, “I’ll be checking them a lot more often now.”

You’re hungry again.

---

(Patreon)

[alexiroflife]

Hello! May I request an angsty toji fic where reader finds out she's pregnant (post megumi) and she knows toji doesn't want anymore children so she just kinda leaves with little to no explanation? Maybe just a small note saying things aren't working out. It's up to you if it will be a hurt/comfort. Idk you don't have to do this request I don't want to overload you! I seriously love your writing. The way you right the character just warms my heart. I especially love ur hiding an Injury fic it was SO SO SO GOOD. 🩶🤍🖤

“promise”

toji fushiguro x reader

Synopsis: see above

to sum it up: you think it’s better to run away than to be the one to get hurt

WC: 5,668

Warning(s): angst, suggestive themes, yelling, pregnancy, mentions of abortion

You stare down at the plastic tube clutched in your trembling hands in awe, eyes blown with shocked grief as you peer closer to get a better look, as though those two bright pink lines could have been a trick of your vision.

Unfortunately, however, your vision remains just as crystal clear as it always has been. As you stand in your cramped apartment bathroom, illuminated by a flickering fluorescent gaze shining down from above, horror befalls you.

You’re pregnant.

You should have known sooner when you began feeling queasy every morning, taking trips to either your or Toji’s toilet to hurl out the contents of whatever swam inside your stomach. You always tried to be silent if Toji was around, for he slept like a dog that could not be woken even if a meteor struck earth, and you had been remarkably exhausted. You aren’t even sure if there is a word to describe how sluggish your entire mind and body had been feeling, but you wanted to rule out the very obvious answer to your problems before exploring it.

You begin to panic, your heart pounding in your ears and throat and every inch of your body you could feel the pulse, eyes blurry over the positive test. You’re conflicted. You don’t know how to feel. On the one hand, you would have been jumping for joy to learn that you are starting a new life with your boyfriend, to step into a new chapter of your lives and to provide his children with another sibling.

But hell, the celebration is far too naive and implausible to be had. The sage eyed man has told you time and time again that he does not wish to have anymore kids, that the ones he has are enough and he is not equipped financially or mentally to care for another brat. In honor of those wishes, you’re on the pill, and consequently, Toji has taken the opportunity to plow his load inside of you time after time after time.

And you really, truly should have known that with Toji’s uniquely abled body, what was meant to serve as a barrier and a means of contraception did not work.

You feel like throwing up. What would Toji say? What would he do? What are you supposed to do? Should you tell him, fill him in on what’s going on to risk rejection and abandonment, a nasty habit that Toji had to work to rid himself of when he met you? Would he even care? Would he listen?

You know Toji to be a very tough man, despite the softened interior he attempts to hide in others’ company that is only displayed for you and for his kids. If he has always been adamant about one thing, it’s been to never have kids again, to focus on where he fucked up before and to pour his attention into the little family he’s grown, the one that he has now.

His voice echoes through your head like the gong of a church bell striking upon the ear’s of a sinner.

“Hell, I already got my hands full tryna get Megumi through his teenage years. What the hell is another child gonna do for us?”

“That shit’s fuckin’ expensive. Not to mention, I’d have to baby proof the house again. That’s another expense.”

“If I was capable of givin’ you y’er own, I would, doll. But I ain’t cut out for it. You know that.”

You don’t even know why he would stress the matter so often. You suppose he’s caught the way your eyes linger on a mother tossing their giggling baby up and down into the air, innocent pools of joy beaming down at her each time it reaches the air and lands in her secure hold. Or maybe he’s seen the way you care so deeply for Toji’s kids as though they are your own, despite telling you when you first got involved with each other that he did not expect you to step into their lives in anyway - and yet, you have done that and more. You know how the kids must struggle each day with the trauma of losing their mother so early on, and you never wanted them to think that you were trying to step in as her replacement, but you love them so clearly, as much as you love the man who created them.

Which leads you to your next concern. How would the kids react?

It’s one thing for you, as their father’s girlfriend, to wander into their lives and help navigate them their teenage hood alongside the dark haired man, but to introduce an entire other child only leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

They may be crushed. They me turn to hate you, to despise how you have contaminated the life they have worked so hard to rebuild after numerous tragedies. And would Toji agree with them? Would he turn his nose up to you, that scowl of his melting over his harsh features as he shuns you just as he shunned every other woman who came after his wife and before you. Would he leave you? Would he kick you out of the world that has become your own because you failed to live up to your promise, though it technically isn’t your fault that you are pregnant now but it feels as though it is?

You can not stand the thought, of the man you love turning his once loving gaze stone upon the sight of you, of him pushing you further away, permanently, in the same manner that he tried to when he realized that he was falling in love with you, of watching Megumi and Tsumiki turn their backs to you as though the past four years of your lives had never happened, banning you from their acceptance forever more.

Tears well in your gaze, interfering with your vision. This can not be happening, you think to yourself, everything has been going so well, and now this? This is going to ruin your relationship with Toji for good. Even if you were not in a committed relationship with him, you assume that the idea of any woman getting impregnated by Toji would have been thrown away. You would be thrown away, just like all the others who gave Toji their bodies but not their hearts.

Not the way you have.

Your heart clenches thinking of just how much you love Toji and the kids, of how you would be willing to lay down your own life for the sake of them as Toji swears that he would for you all in return. Even so, despite the commitment to you that a man who swore never to be committed to accustomed, this would be going too far.

…You’re not even sure if he would love you anymore.

Now that you’re pregnant with his child, a child he never meant to have with you, you assume you will mean nothing to him any longer. In his eyes, you will simply become the slut that he took a chance on by a whim, carrying something he would never call his own. You believe the old Toji will resurface, the one who claimed not to care, the one who shoved women out of his bedroom before the sun rose in the sky, the one who often failed to remember to pick his kids up from school, the one who would no longer meet you at eye level but look down upon you, frown upon you for being so clumsy.

You know Toji is the one who did this, but this still feels like it is your doing. Like somehow, you trapped him and he now has no choice but to break free from the steel cage you have barred around him with your conception.

Your fingers clutch over the plastic, your eyes scrunching closed to release a fresh set of tears that cascade over your cheeks and onto the test. You can feel yourself mourning your relationship already, you can feel it slipping through your fingers, see it fading in the distance until it becomes nothing but a bittersweet memory that you can not determine as reality or a figment of your imagination any longer.

You tilt your head, bringing the test to your forehead as you think, grieve, cry. You mull over your options; you could hide this from Toji, get an abortion and never think of it again or you could tell Toji and lose him forever.

You open your bleary eyes, lashes decked with dewy tears, as another idea dawns upon you. You could leave, leave before Toji and the kids have a chance to leave you.

It’s a cruel thought, you think, especially abandoning those children without any proper explanation for them, but what else are you meant to do? You’d be doing them all a favor if anything by taking your leave without them having to be plagued by the knowledge of your unplanned pregnancy, of what they may view as a scheme to destroy their family in your new baby’s wake.

The thought kills you to even entertain. You had promised those kids that you weren’t going anywhere, that you’d stay with them for as long as they allowed you… but this is different. This is not what any of you had in your cards, how you believed your futures to go. Toji wants simplicity at home while he works through chaos through his occupation. He wants security, warmth, safety for you, Megumi, Tsumiki, and no one else. He would never welcome another child. You believe he’d be caught dead before approving of your pregnancy.

And therefore, you know what you have to do.

After taking a few more tests to ensure that the readings are accurate, which they are, you pledge to walk away. You pledge to leave the only man you’ve ever truly loved, the strongest family you’ve known, and the slim possibility that despite Toji’s wishes, he may accept you.

But you don’t want to take that chance and risk the humiliation and unplanned heartbreak. You’d much rather take matters into your own hands, and plan the shattering of your soul yourself.

You don’t sleep all night, for you’re too busy drafting about twenty different letters to Toji. Crumpled loosleaf paper litters the floor beside your bed as you try to think of how to best write down everything you want to say. You go through pages and pages until you are finally satisfied with the result, and the next morning, you slip the envelope into his mail slot and prepare to pack your life away.

It is late Sunday morning when Toji rises from his slumber. The first thing he does is lean over the sheets and drape his arm toward his nightstand to read your daily good morning text - only he finds there isn’t one. With pinched brows, he takes his phone to unlock it and visit your contact. Nothing.

The time reads 12:35 pm. Normally, you’re up and at it or even banging down his door by then to wake him. Maybe you’re just sleeping in?

He goes to give your cell a call, but nothing. Not only that, but your phone is also on do not disturb mode. His gut immediately swells with the suspicion that something is wrong. The dark haired assassin supposes he’s going to pay you a visit this afternoon as soon as he checks on the kids to ensure that they are alright.

His bedroom door opens with a creak, and he calls out to the teens gruffly through a yawn. When they don’t respond, he’s truly growing concerned.

He rounds the corner to prepare to head for their rooms when he finds Tsumiki and Megumi at the dining table. His brows furrow, his pace slowing as he takes in their faces. Tsumiki’s lips are pressed together tightly and the muscles in her face are scrunched as though she is about to cry, while Megumi stares ahead with empty eyes and a hardened exterior.

Toji frowns with quirked brows, approaching his kids. “What’s wrong with you two?”

His brunette daughter looks up at him with glassy eyes and wrinkled chin, lashes fluttering while Megumi does not bother to look at his father. Instead, he brings Toji’s attention to a torn envelope and a thick packet of papers pressed beneath the sixteen year old’s palm. Wordlessly, Megumi slides it toward him, brows slanting.

Toji, perplexed, looks between the papers and his children’s troubled faces. What is this letter? Overdue taxes? An eviction notice? That can’t be possible, because you had ensured that Toji and the kids’ place was secure long ago.

He crunches the papers in his hands and picks them up to read. The first thing that catches his eye is your scribbling handwriting, and the following words that send his heart plummeting to his ass:

This isn’t working out.

Toji whips his head up, baffled, and when he meets Megumi’s gaze again, his eyes are ablaze with resentment.

“What the hell did you do?” he growls.

The green eyed man is not even thinking before he’s dialing Shiu’s number, asking him to watch the kids for the next hour or so, and running out of the apartment after throwing rather unconvincing words of assurance over his shoulder to his kids, who are still with disbelief - Tsumiki with devastation and Megumi with rage, for surely his father pushed you away.

Toji does not bother finding a ride, electing to run to your place which is only a few blocks away. You two were just discussing moving in with one another, combining households, and this is what you spring onto him? Not even for him to stumble across first, but his kids who look up to you and love you like their own mother?

Oh, he’s fuming, a rush of emotions taking over his mind as it fuels his speed. The letter you wrote is still crunched in his fist, whipping through the air as he makes his way to you.

Dear Toji,

This is not working out.

But before you rampage and get angry with me, please let me explain. Let me explain how much I love you, how much those kids mean to me, and how every day I wake up I want to be greeted by all of your smiling faces. For the rest of time, forever. You are undoubtedly the only man for me, and I truly believe that. I know you may think I’m bullshitting because of how the beginning of this letter contradicts what im saying now, but it’s true. I have never loved another person the way I love you, and while it scared me at first when you were so stubborn and full of anger that you misdirected onto me, I stayed and I waited and I helped you and I’ve loved you through every single moment, ever week, every month, and every year. You brought purpose back into my life, and I can picture you scoffing because you’d say the same, but I mean it. You, Tsumiki, and Megumi are the best things that have ever happened to me. I love you all so much.

But in this case, that love is not enough.

I hate to be doing this to you, to the kids, but I have no other choice. Things aren’t going the way they used to, and it’s not your fault but mine. I’m the reason. And it is tearing me apart to know that and simultaneously know what I have to do in order to keep you and the kids happy. Stable. I wish I could explain to you more why I am doing this, but I can’t. Not just because I am dying to picture you reading this, but because I truly can not say. I do not want to ruin you guys’ image of me. While I think that’s a selfish thing to say because who knows how me leaving is going to hurt you all, you would not understand even if you knew the reason behind this.

By the time you are done reading this, I will be gone. I’m going away because as long as I am not with you all, I can’t stay here anymore. I am staying with my mother while I get my travel plans arranged, because I know how you worry when you do not know where I am or if im safe. I should be gone by Friday.

Please do not come see me. I have made my decision, and you will only be hurting us more by trying to stop me. I won’t be stopped.

Kiss and hug and apologize to Megumi and Tsumiki for me. I hope you find someone who fills the role of their mother, someone who knows how Megumi likes to do his homework in the silence of his room with no music or anything, completely isolated so he can focus. Someone who knows how to fix Tsumiki’s eggs properly - to add extra butter to the sides when you fry them so the edges get crispier. Someone who won’t try to feed Gumi’a demidogs because he hates when people assume they can coddle up to them upon first introduction. Someone who cares for the wholly the way I do and always will.

And you. I know how stubborn you are. I know how angry you probably are at me right now, and I will miss that about you, but please do not let that interfere with the possibility of falling in love again. Beneath the layers of grit, standoffishness, and indifference, you are a man with a big heart. For me. For your kids. For those you love and seek to protect.

You say you aren’t a good man, and while that may be true to you, you are an amazing partner and you’ve already become an amazing parent. I’ve seen you grow, and I am so in love with you and so proud of you. I know you’ll be okay without me. It maybe take some time, but you’ll adjust to what’s best. I promise.

With all the love that could possibly be harbored in this world, you are everything to me and that is why I have to go. I wish you every happiness this planet can offer you, and I know that without me, you can begin to find joy again.

Love,

Your doll

You had believed to time this perfectly, for you know that Toji usually does not wake until one, so soon as you are finishing up packing, you are trudging down the stairs to the leasing office to inform them that you will be moving.

You push open the door to the first floor, the breeze hitting you gently, and you round the corner only to be blocked by the last person you wanted to run into during this time.

Your eyes widen as you look up, the burly figure you have grown oh so familiar with over the years heaving as though enraged, ivy eyes crowding over slim pupils as Toji glares down at you, an image of indescribable fury.

Your heart drops and your words die in your throat. “T-Toji?” you whisper, horrified of an outburst. You are rattled by fear, having been so unprepared to walk into this. You did not put it past him to chase you down. But you figured that you’d be at your parents by the time he woke. Then, you could have at least told them to tell him off at the door.

But no. Instead, here he is, six feet and then some of bulking mass as he takes quick, deep breaths that expand the entirety of his chest.

You shift. “What are you doing here-“

“What the fuck is this?”

Toji swiftly, yet aggressively, lifts the papers in his hands, now damaged by his travels and his grip, shaking it firmly with the question. You gulp, lowering your eyes.

“Toji, I told you not to come…”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he swears firmly, and you jump, looking to see if anyone is around to hear you, as the two of you are standing outside your complex.

“We shouldn’t be- let’s just go inside,” you go to grab his arm, but he tears it away. He stares at you as though you have burned him, singed the heart in his chest from the inside out, and he is so unforgiving. So unforgiving before he hears directly from your mouth what this is about.

“I’m not doin’ shit until you tell me what the fuck this is, (Y/n),” he demands, his hand moving the papers about passionately with his speech, and you feel your heart hammering again. This is not how things were supposed to go. You are not supposed to be seeing him right now. “Cause I refuse- I fuckin’ refuse to believe that you’re breaking up with me.”

Your eyes gloss over as you look down at your feet, unsure of what to do or how to handle this confrontation. You can’t do this. You can’t, it’s too much. It’s too hard.

“…I am,” you mumble.

Toji steps forward, leaning down to get a peek of your face, his expression so angry that it worries you. “What?”

“I said… I am.”

“Uh uh, you better say that shit with your chest if you can write a whole damn letter about it,” he growls, fucking further as you continue to turn away. “Look at me,” he barks, and you cringe.

“Toji, don’t yell at me!” you shout back.

“What else do’ya want me to do, huh?” he throws his hands up. “How else do you expect me to react to this bullshit?! You’re leavin’ me? After everythin’ we been through, after everythin’ you and the kids’ve been through, you’re leavin? Are you fuckin’ serious?”

He takes a swift glance at the papers, the very sight sending him into a spiral, before he’s heatedly looking back down at you.

“I don’t buy this shit for one second. No. You’re not leavin’. Not in this world, or the next.”

“I am, Toji, the quicker you accept that, the easier it’ll be for everyone!”

“Easy?” he winces as though the prospect pains him. “You call this shit easy? You call up and tryin’ to abandon me easy? You call the kids waking up to your letter and reading it at the table before I saw it easy?”

Your face falls. “…what?”

“Yeah. You fuckin’ heard me,” he sneers. “Megumi and Tsumiki read this shit first. First thing in the morning, they see a letter about how the woman they love is leavin’ ‘em, just like their mom did, and for what?”

You close your eyes, his words stinging you as they cut through. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true, ain’t it? Y’er leavin’ us, (Y/n), and you didn’t even have the decency to say why!”

Guilt crowds you, like a blanket of darkness consuming you from overhead, and as Toji stands before you completely torn apart by your letter, you see the fear in his eyes, the sadness, the unspoken plea for you not to go.

You try your best to keep your composure as you turn away again. “I told you, I can’t tell you.”

“Fuck that,” he lifts the letter and tosses it to the ground with a thud. You gasp, watching it slam to the concrete pavement.

“Toji!” you exclaim.

“You think you can just leave without me comin’ to hunt you down and see your face so I can figure out what the hell is goin’ on? You must not know me at all.”

“Why do you always have to be so aggressive about everything?!”

“Of all fuckin’ things, (Y/n), I think I got a right to be aggressive about this. You were gonna leave without sayin’ goodbye!” he tosses his arm out to the side with the exclamation, brows twisting and teeth bearing. “Is that what our relationship means t’ya? You think you can just toss us aside?”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” you beg, a lump forming in your throat as the two of you stand face to face, arguing without a car about who will see you.

“Then tell me,” he shouts. “Cause you’re not givin’ me shit to go off of!”

“I told you already, I can’t,” your lips quiver.

“Then our relationship is nothing to you.”

“No, Toji.”

“Clearly it ain’t, cause I’d think it’d be worth an explanation if you’re runnin’ away!” you frown and shake your head, turning to walk back into the complex when Toji cuts you off, moving in your way. “You don’t think I know you? You don’t think I see it all over your face that somethin’s got you scared, and y’re takin’ off because of it? You think I don’t know what that looks like, (Y/n)? I did that shit. I did it all the damn time before I met you, and hell, I tried to run then but you wouldn’t let me, so what the hell makes you think I’m gonna let you now?”

“This is different,” you say shortly, afraid to reveal the tremble of your voice to the man before you. You keep your gaze down as you try to go around him again, but to no avail. He steps in your path. “Stop!”

“I ain’t stoppin’,” he says gravely, keeping his eyes to yours though you try to avoid contact with them. “Not until you spit it out. I’ll be damned if I got another broken home cause y’re fuckin’ scared.”

“I said stop!” you try to find some bass in your voice, but against your will, it falters when you yell. Toji eyes you carefully, reaching his hand out to grip your shoulder and steady you into place.

You scoff, attempting to pull away, but it’s no use. The dark haired man is everywhere, keeping you from walking away.

“You talk to me like the grown ass woman you are,” he tells you sternly, stepping in. “You use that voice I know you have, and don’t you ever let me catch you writin’ a letter to me about how you wanna break up instead of comin’ to talk to me. Y’understand?”

You exhale shakily, lips pressing together and brows curling. “I can’t.”

“Y’re still not tellin’ me why you think that.”

“Because I can’t, Toji. I can’t tell you. It’ll- it’ll fuck up everything!” you break, and Toji feels the pit in his stomach shift as he looks over your aggrieved expression, depicting the same exact things he feels.

“(Y/n),” he calls your name firmly, the sound of it on his tongue only inspiring the urge to cry more. You continue to shake your head though Toji isn’t exactly speaking, and his green eyes wander you with frustrated concern. “Y’scared of what I’ll do if you tell me?”

You freeze, slowly peeling your eyes to look at his, his face tense with grief. You stare at him for a moment, mouth gaping like a fish as all of your insecurities that talked you toward this ledge run through your mind once more.

“Don’t look surprised,” he says. “I know you like the back of my hand, and I know that you knew I’d be over here to stop ya.”

Your frown deepens, and this time as you look at him, you see every second of your future that you were quick to stomp dow. You see the unbridled, unfiltered love he holds for you as well as the blood curdling fear of letting you go.

“You have to understand,” you whimper. “I know how you’ll react, I- I can’t do this to you. You have to let me go.”

“What the hell could be so horrifyin’ in that head of yours to make you think that I won’t stick with ya through hell and high water?” he grits out, searching your swollen hues of (e/c) hesitation. “You’d do the same for me.”

“I know, but-“

“There’s nothin’ else to say. I ain’t leavin’ until you spill, and when you do, y’re comin’ with me.”

You look at him, pained. It’s a trap, you think. If Toji only knew, he’d be running for the hills instead of trying to track you down.

“Out with it, now.”

You can’t. You can’t tell him. He’ll leave you, he’ll reject you, he’ll turn you away, he’ll never let you see the kids again.

“(Y/n)!”

“I’m pregnant!”

The earth seems to freeze and time seems to slow. You scrunch your eyes, anticipating the worst to come as Toji takes in your words, his tensed expression melting slowly.

You don’t open your eyes to see his reaction. You keep your head ducked and your fists closed as the white noise of nature flutters into relevance. You’re trembling, terrified, and Toji can not move but instead proceeds to stare at you, stunned.

His words about not wanting any more kids run through your mind again as you await his response, and the suspense kills you as you do. You can feel his grip on your shoulder slacken before tightening again, and you are terrified.

He’s going to leave you.

You are quick to step away when the sentiment arises once more, Toji’s hand falling from you arm. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, still unable to look at him. “I’m sorry, I know that you don’t want any more kids. I know, an I thought we were being careful, but- I took five tests. They’re all positive.”

“You’re pregnant?” he echoes, and you still. You knew it. You knew this would happen.

“I told you, Toji,” you exhale. “I told you that I couldn’t tell you, and now everything’s a mess.”

He twitches. “Hold on-“

“Don’t tell me all of a sudden you want kids,” you snap. “I know how strongly you feel about it.”

“So instead of talkin’ to me, you were gonna leave? Knocked up? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“What other choice do I have?!” you cry. “You don’t want more kids, and if I kept it, it would only be a nuisance to you. And Megumi and Tsumiki?”

He scrunches his face. “What about ‘em?”

“How do you think they’d feel if the woman you’re dating after their mother died surprised them with a new baby? They’d be crushed!” you say shakily as salty tears well in your eyes again. “I can’t overstep your boundaries. I just can’t. It’s easier for me to go.”

“And do what, (Y/n)? Raise a kid on your own without any help?”

“I can’t bare you leaving me!” you suddenly confess, tear striking past your cheek.

Toji examines you and frowns. “What are y’talkin’ about? You’re tryin’ to leave me!”

“So I can prevent the inevitable from happening,” you huff. “I’m okay with it. I’ve made peace with everything. That’s why you need to just let me go-“

“After everythin’, you think I’d throw you away because you’re pregnant with my kid?” Toji says incredulously. You falter, for you had been so sure of his reaction before. “You think that low of me?”

“No, but I want you to have what you want.”

“What I want is you, you fuckin’ idiot,” he hisses. “All I ever wanted was you, and I can’t fuckin’ believe you’re tryin’ to take that away from me.”

You furrow your brows, confused. “…You’re not mad?”

“Girl, I’m livid,” he scowls. “Not about the damn kid, but because you assumed what I would say before comin’ to me.”

“Toji, you have to understand that I was trying to look out for you.”

“There’s not lookin’ out for me or those kids or makin’ them happy if you’re gone, (Y/n),” he bites. “Who th’fuck put that idea in your head?”

You stammer, tears proceeding to flow down your face as you reel in the reality of the situation. “I… I just thought-“

“I don’t wanna hear it.”

Before you can respond, his hand is gripping your wrist and he’s tugging you toward him into his chest. You shake when you fall into him, listening to the pace of his heart rapidly beating against your ear as he breaths quickly against you. Large palms smooth over your head and down to your waist as he holds you tightly, and you notice how desperate his grip is. He’s holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, as though you’ll fly away if his hold is not tight enough.

He tucks his head into your neck, fingers grasping into your shirt, and suddenly the animosity of the moment prior is gone. You’re still trembling, leading Toji to hold you tighter to him.

“Can’t believe you tried to leave,” he murmurs into your hair. “Christ, (Y/n) you’re tryin’ to gimme a heart attack. The fuck is goin’ on with you.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his chest, looking off sadly. “I thought you’d be upset about it. I didn’t want you to know.”

“I should know about any and every single thing that’s goin’ on with you, y’hear me? This ain’t no exception.”

A weight flutters from your shoulders as you sink into Toji’s head, silent tears streaming for the life you almost sacrificed. “What are we gonna do?”

“I dunno,” he mumbles. “But we’ll figure it out. As a team. Alright?”

You nod meekly. “Okay.”

He groans, pressing himself impossibly further to you. “That letter… fuck, don’t do that shit. Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that. Without you, I ain’t shit- pregnant or not. And those kids would adore another sibling if you were bringing it into this world. Don’t say that shit about them again either. They need ya. We need ya.”

“I’m sorry,” you whine again, Toji’s hand stroking over your back soothingly.

“It’s okay,” he grumbles. “We’ll figure it out.”

[l0vergirlwrites]

A totally random fic request but something where like reader sees like the team treats Spencer badly like interrupting him or something or like making him feel bad and the reader just like following Spencer out and like holding him I guess or something like that, sorry it’s rlly vague 😭😭

elevator sweetness ; spencer reid

synopsis: after another slightly deprecating comment was made about spencer, you offer him a shoulder to lean on & some kind words.

warnings: mentions of spencer being a bit sad, morgan making a comment about spencer (ily but leave my boy alone lmao), sorta new to the bau fem!reader, non-established relationship but future relationship is teased, fluff & slight angst themes, loosely based on s2 ep8

note: thank you for the request! i hope you like it! 💌

you first noticed it when you walked into the bullpen that morning, leather saddle bag snug on your shoulder as you beelined for your desk. you sat at the cluster of cubicle styled desks across from spencer’s, giving you a perfect view of him, which you’ve come to find is a blessing & a curse.

he had walked in moments after you, eyes drawn to the floor or inanimate objects, that curious twinkle was missing, & his soft smile was nowhere to be seen. spencer just sat at his desk, throwing himself into his work without greeting anyone or even getting a start on his morning coffee.

it made your lips pull into a small frown as you turned your gaze back onto your computer before anyone noticed you looking at him for too long.

“bau—conference room in fifteen” hotch’s voice broke through the morning chatter, the tiniest pit of dread filling your tummy after his alert. you wondered what the case was this time.

after going through your emails in a dash, you made your way to the small office kitchenette to grab a coffee before the round table, glancing spencer’s way once more. you saw derek perched by his desk, a teasing smile on his face like normal, but spencer remained rigid.

it made you frown again.

by the time fifteen minutes passed, you were in the conference room with two cups of coffee, casually placing one where spencer usually sits before the others noticed. you made sure to add lots of cream & sugar.

when spencer walked in, tight lipped & awkward, he felt a little lighter when he saw the coffee on the table. as jj grabbed everyone’s attention, his eyes fell onto you.

“thank you” he mouthed before opening the tab on the plastic lid, lightly blowing on it as jj played a video on the tv screen.

this weeks case was dealing with a kidnapping. three high-school girls from a small town, all athletes with bright futures—but they disappeared out of nowhere with odd voicemails as the only evidence to go off of for now.

“are we sure that they aren’t just going on a road trip? they said they’d be back by the weekend & their parents aren’t all that worried so—“.

cutting morgan off, spencer spoke up, much to your surprise. “but their voicemails were quite cryptic. clean cut. as if they were reading off of a script—“.

slightly rolling his eyes, morgan interrupted spencer. “you know, not every high schooler is a stickler for the rules like you were. it’s normal for teenagers to make impromptu plans while they’re young—have a little fun even”.

about to rebut his point, spencer opted to stay silent. he’s used to being picked on, jabbed a little here & there for his goody toe shoes persona around the team. but today just wasn’t the day he could brush it off easily.

noticing spencer’s body language closing in as he slightly slumped into his chair, you took your turn to speak. “morgan, spencer’s right. the girls sound almost afraid on the phone—monotone, maybe even apprehensive. plus, they both said the exact same thing to their parents—word for word. just because their parents aren’t super worried doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be” you pointed out, jj quickly agreeing with you before gideon & hotch followed suit.

the meeting soon wrapped up with a warning that the jet would be leaving in half an hour, causing the team to scramble to prepare. as spencer made his way to the elevator, you decided it was your moment just to check in with him.

“spencer!” you gently called out, seeing him stop walking & turn around to see you. it made you smile a little when you saw that he was still nursing the coffee you made for him.

saying your name in greeting, spencer & you continued to walk once you were at his side. “grabbing your go bag?” you asked & he confirmed with a nod.

“could i tag along? i have to get mine from my car too. what do you usually pack in yours?”.

as you both waited for an elevator in the busy office atmosphere, conversation came easy. you noted the way spencer spoke almost hesitantly, as if he was conscious of him rambling too much that he censored himself. you came to learn that he always packs a few books in his bag with sticky tabs to annotate—it’s become a new hobby of his.

once an elevator became free, the doors closed before anyone else could occupy it. so it was just you & spencer.

despite the decently large space, you both hovered to the centre with a few inches of personal space separating your arm from brushing his. the thought of it made a chill run up your spine.

“can i ask you something?” you fiddled with your fingers, tempted to pick off the black nail polish you wore as you looked to spencer.

you could tell he was still down in the dumps about something, but without the loud chatter of the office, a metaphorical weight was lifted off his shoulders for a moment.

“sure. what’s your question?”.

swallowing your anxiety in fear it was out of line to ask, you felt like it was right. “is it normal for the others to kinda, i dunno, make comments about you like that?”

you watched as spencer’s face sort of furrowed, clearly not expecting a question like that. he was unsure whether he should answer it honestly or brush it off. he’s gotten used to doing that.

“uh…” he licked his lips, looking away from you to think.

you cringed. “sorry if that’s weird of me to ask”.

he shook his head. “n-no, it’s okay. i-uh, just wasn’t expecting you to ask that” he scratched his neck, swallowing his own nerves as he continued to look at the metal floor of the elevator.

he wondered why it was moving so slow.

“i’m used to the comments—most are made in good fun, i know they aren’t targeted to get under my skin. but uh… people have said stuff like that, even worse, my whole life. so it doesn’t really bother me as much as it used to” he explained, tight lipped again as he nodded his head, finger drumming against the metal rail.

he knew you could see right through him though. “it doesn’t mean those comments can’t hurt sometimes though. you’re allowed to feel uncomfortable by them” you assure him, trying to validate his feelings like you wished others did for you too.

you knew exactly how he felt. different circumstances, but same feelings nonetheless.

the fragility & kindness behind your words made spencer’s chest ache as he turned his head to look at you again, seeing nothing but empathy across your features.

“i know it’s not my place, but i also know that it’s not fun for them to jab at you like that every now & then. i just wanted you to know that i…i have your back, you know… that i care”

spencer let the tiny crease in his brow dissipate, his eyes softened, & he felt a blanket of warmth spread across his body at your words. he didn’t know what he did to deserve someone so kind.

he almost felt choked up. “that’s really nice of you,” he spoke your name with such sweetness, it made your heart break into two & mend back together. “y-you don’t know how much that means to me. really”.

you gave him a warm smile in return, not realizing that your hands were just barely touching his against the metal rail. “it’s no biggie. i know you’d do the same for me” & spencer nods, affirming that what you said was true.

“i would—i-i do” he corrected, letting a smile grace his lips too. you didn’t realize how much you missed it.

“pinky promise?” you proposed, slowly lifting up your hand, pinky outstretched. you hoped it would lighten the mood a bit.

spencer took it without hesitation.

“pinky promise”.

soon enough, the elevator opened to the car park & you both walked in tandem to his car before reaching yours. more conversation was made along the way, one even included a promise that you both would sit next to each other on the jet & listen to music from an album you recommended him.

from that moment on, spencer couldn’t look at you without noticing the way your tucked your hair behind your ears, the crinkle in your eyes when you smiled, or how your laugh made his heart feel fuzzy.

he didn’t know that in this moment, he fell for you. & he wouldn’t realize it for another year.

[willowpains]

GIRLY we need more of latina actress reader! with Drew, I was thinking of her spending time with him and the fam at some summer house or sum and especially after season 3 filming and he has his saggy hair (OML) and one of his sisters prolly Brooke catches reader playing with his hair, and drew and reading dancing around the kitchen cooking breakfast in the morning!!!! and of course add anything else you would like!!! 

summer getaway

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

Your heart was really happy at the moment.

Drew’s family had kindly invited you to join them in their annual summer vacation at their summer house in North Carolina.

You would only be joining them for a week, because you were planning on visiting home in Mexico as well.

Jodi and Todd had been really nice asking you to join the family as they couldn’t imagine the trip without you.

And of course, Drew had not missed the opportunity of telling you how much you two would enjoy the little trip.

So you totally agreed.

And that’s how you two were currently enjoying the afternoon, watching the soon to be sunset on some chairs on the garden at the back of the house, while the rest of his family busied themselves inside.

Oh how you loved quiet moments like this.

You were sitting on Drew’s lap, he had one of his arms around your waist, while the other one rested on your leg.

You were hugging him, with both arms around his neck, while one of your hands played with his wispy hair at the nape of his neck, your nails scraping softly against his skin.

Drew sighed in content as he closed his eyes for a second.

“That feels good” he mumbled, leaning his head on your chest, giving you more space to work with.

You laughed softly at him.

“Yeah?” you asked softly, as you continued your movements, loving how he could absolutely melt under your touch at any moment. “I love your hair like this” you say, while running your fingers through his hair.

He had let his hair grown a little, going for a wispy kind of mullet.

And oh could he pull off any look.

You were kinda jealous.

“You love it huh?” he said teasingly as he moved back his head from your chest so he could look at you. “I’m gonna have to cut it off eventually doll” he said, as he removed his hand from your leg, so he was now holding your face.

You pouted at him.

“What if I convince you not to?” you asked playfully, leaning in to peck his lips, still playing with his hair.

He groaned into the kiss as you pulled back, smiling at him.

“You’re bad” he says, leaning in to kiss you again, before you both break apart at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

You two look back and find Brooke, Drew’s sister, peeking her head out from inside the house.

“Dinner is ready love birds!” she says smiling at both of you, just before going back inside the house.

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, while you hide your face in the crook of Drew’s neck.

He lets out a laugh while he softly soothes your back with one of his hands.

“Oh my god I feel like a teenager that just got caught” you say into his neck.

He softly chuckles at your comment while placing a kiss on the top of your head, finding it funny and adorable how flustered you got any time his family catched any type of PDA from you together.

“Let’s get some dinner doll” he says, standing up from the chair with you in his arms.

You let out a shriek in surprise, as you wrap both your arms around his neck to support yourself.

“Drew put me down!” you say, laughing and watching him laugh at your reaction.

He shakes his head in amusement as he walks with you in his arms towards the house.

“Just enjoy the ride love” he says placing a soft kiss on your temple, as he takes you inside the house for you to have dinner with his family.

After dinner, you and Drew offered to pick up table and clean up everything. His family had worked so hard to put everything up, so it was your turn to do something.

“I’ll do the dishes” you say, walking to the sink and starting to clean them up.

Contrary to popular opinion, you loved doing dishes.

There was something so calming and relaxing about getting your hands soapy, bubbly and extra clean that just did something to you.

“I’ll clean up the table” he said, walking off before pecking your lips, leaving you smiley.

You could hear the clatter of forks and plates, and then, he was walking into the kitchen once again.

“Alexa, play lover by Taylor Swift” Drew said out loud, making you turn your head and look at him with a smile, while he gave you a playful look.

Your heart warmed as he approached you and offered you his hand.

“May I?” he said, giving you a big smile.

You could feel the butterflies going crazy in your stomach, and it made you smile even harder.

Quickly, you turned around to rinse your hands while patting them dry, only to face him as he pulled you in.

His hands moved to your waist, and you tangled yours around his neck, looking up at him with an adoring look.

“You know how to charm a girl” you say, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

He chuckled softly as he looked down at you between his arms.

“I only care about charming you” he says, twirling you softly and catching you back, pulling you close to him. “That’s all I ever want”.

His words make your heart flutter, as you rest your head on his chest, enjoying the kitchen dancing session.

With Taylor’s songs behind you, you feel content and at peace, honestly, wherever Drew was, as long as he was with you, you were at peace.

“I love you baby” he says, swaying you both to the rhythm of the song, while he places a soft kiss at the top of your head, while his thumb slowly draws gentle circles on your waist.

You could stay like that forever.

At his words, you look up at him, moving one of your hands that played with the hair on his neck, to his cheek, grazing it softly.

“I love you more mi amor” you say, unable to hide the smile appeared on your face.

He leans down and captures your lips on a kiss that communicates everything you’re both feeling without needing words.

Unbeknownst to both of you, his family was watching, more like peaking, your little romantic moment.

And they had been getting glimpses of your love throughout the trip.

They loved to see their son in love.

In love with you.

Being loved how it should be.

Having you as part of the family.

They knew you were both lucky to have found each other.

The next morning, you were back in the kitchen.

You had offered to cook breakfast for the family, telling them how you wanted to show them a typical mexican breakfast that you knew they would all love.

Drew as always, had offered to help you, being the one who always tried all your recipes.

“Is it good?” you asked, after he tasted your green sauce for chilaquiles.

You liked cooking. You weren’t the best, but you definitely weren’t the worse.

It was enough to make your mom proud, and you could work with that.

Drew paused for a moment as he closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure.

“It’s delicious baby” he said, as he enjoyed the flavors dancing on his tongue.

You squinted your eyes at him, not truly believing his words.

“Be completely honest amor” you said, leaning your hips against the counter, looking at him attentively. “You won’t hurt my feelings if you tell me something’s missing” you admitted giving him a smile.

Drew paused for a moment, before going back and trying the sauce one more time.

He hesitated, his eyes closed, concentrating.

“Maybe a little bit of salt” he said, one eye open waiting for your reaction.

You smiled at him while playfully hitting him on the chest.

“You’re so dramatic” you said laughing, before turning to the stove and adding a bit more salt to finish everything up.

He laughed before placing his hands on your waist, and resting his chin on the crown of your head.

“And you’re amazing” he said, silently enjoying the domestic side of you two being on vacation, sharing with family or not.

You hummed at his words, resting your back on his broad chest.

“Help me serve the plates?” You said, turning around and pecking his lips softly.

Drew scrunched his nose in annoyance as you broke the kiss, looking at him with a smile.

“Let’s make them wait a little longer” he said, wrapping one of his arms around your waist pulling you in, the other one around the back of your neck capturing your lips in a kiss.

You smile between his arms.

Later that night, everyone was chilling and winding down from spending the day out on the beach.

You and Drew were laying down on the couch. You were watching a marvel movie playing on the tv, while he attempted to read a few pages of a book he hadn’t picked up once since arriving at the summer house.

He was trying really hard to stay focused on his book but he seemed to fail, because from what you could see from your position on top of him laying your head on his chest, around 10 minutes had passed and he hadn’t flipped his book page.

You giggled softly as he tore his eyes away from the tv to look down at you.

“What’s so funny?” He smiles sheepishly at you, holding his book with one hand.

You lifted your head, resting your chin on his chest to be able to meet his eyes.

“You’re getting distracted” you say smiling at him. “Just give up already and enjoy the movie amor”.

He hesitates for a moment, looking between the tv, his book, and you.

He sighs, shaking his head and smiling.

“I’m weak” he says closing his book and leaving it next to him on the couch.

You giggle softly before going back to resting your head on his chest and watching the movie, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Everybody’s weak when Avengers Endgame is playing” you say, getting immediately lost in the film again.

Drew chuckles softly as one of his hands finds its way to your back, drawing circles, lulling you to sleep. While the other, tangled itself in your hair, scratching your scalp tenderly.

Your eyes began to flutter at his gentle touches.

The weight of being out on the beach all day, mixed with Drew’s fingers against your skin, were making it harder for you to stay awake.

Your eyes were fighting to stay open and continue watching the movie, because no matter how many times you watched it, you loved it every time.

But next thing you knew, you had fallen asleep over Drew.

He didn’t realize when exactly you had fallen asleep.

But when he looked down at you to watch your reaction over Black Widow’s death, he smiled at you being completely asleep and relaxed.

His heart fluttered at the adorable sight before him.

He had to capture it.

So he reached for his phone and stopped breathing for a second to get a perfect picture of you mid dream.

“What are you guys-“ Logan, Drew’s brother, came into the living room and paused mid sentence as Drew sent him a death glare signaling for him to shut up.

Logan lifted his arms in sign of peace, as he slowly walked into the room, silently sitting on the individual couch, immediately getting into the movie.

You were still deeply asleep.

An earthquake could hit and you probably wouldn’t notice.

So Drew threw his phone somewhere next to him, and went back to watching the movie and cradling you between his arms.

He could stay like that forever and he would be the happiest man on earth.

*

thank you so much for your request! I absolutely adored it and had so much fun writing it<3 sorry if it takes me a minute to post, sometimes I’m a bit of a slow writer

I actually loved the concept so much I’m planning on making a moodboard for this soooo stay tuned

I’m so happy to see people enjoying the latina actress reader universe as much as I do, thank you all so much!

as always, if any of y’all wanna read, ask or see something in particular from latina actress reader let me know<3

[darksturnz]

CHEATER CHEATER . . . PUSSY EATER ?

CONTENTS: smut-heavy plot ・oral (f! receiving)・bf!matt ・AFAB!reader + more WC: 2k

The suitcase slipped from your fingers, landing with a dull thud against the hardwood floor. Your heart pounded in your ears, the moans echoing down the dimly lit hallway making your stomach twist into a sick knot.

It was late. Past midnight. You hadn’t even told Matt you were coming home early, wanting to surprise him after your work trip had been cut short. Three days. Three fucking days early, and this is what you come home to?

Your fingers curled into fists as you stormed down the hallway, the moans getting louder with every step. The door to your shared bedroom was slightly ajar, a faint, flickering glow seeping through the crack. Your mind was racing, every worst-case scenario hitting you all at once.

Matt. In your bed. With someone else.

The girl’s high-pitched cries sent another sharp pang through your chest. You didn’t recognize the voice, but it didn’t matter.

Bile rose in your throat.

Three fucking years.

You shoved the door open, already bracing yourself for the worst—for Matt’s horrified expression, for some half-naked girl scrambling under the sheets, for the complete and total destruction of your relationship right in front of your eyes.

But that’s not what you saw.

Instead, Matt was slouched against the headboard, bare chest heaving, his cock twitching in his hand as he stared at his phone screen. Alone.

Your heart was still hammering, your breath still ragged as you processed the scene. Matt, blinking rapidly in confusion, jerking upright the moment he realized you were standing in the doorway. His phone fumbled in his grasp before the screen went black, and he hastily yanked a pillow over his lap like a teenager caught in the act.

“Jesus Christ!” he gasped, eyes wide. “What the fuck are you doing home?”

For a moment, you just stared at him, chest rising and falling with the force of your adrenaline. The room still echoed with the sounds of the porno—some dramatic, exaggerated moan ringing out before Matt frantically hit the volume button, effectively silencing it.

Then, the reality of what was happening finally sank in.

“You—” You exhaled sharply, a half-hysterical laugh bubbling up from your throat as you pressed a hand over your face. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

Matt, still caught between shock and embarrassment, scrubbed a hand over his face. “What the hell is wrong with you?You scared the shit out of me!”

“I scared you?” Your voice rose an octave. “I thought you were cheating on me, Matt!”

His eyebrows shot up. “Cheating?”

“What the hell else was I supposed to think?” You threw your hands up, your heart still racing, blood still hot from the blind fury that had propelled you into the room. “I walk in and all I hear is some bitch moaning like she’s dying—”

Matt groaned, dragging the pillow higher up his lap like it could somehow shield him from the entire situation. “Oh my god.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. Now that the initial rage had worn off, you were left standing there, exhausted, overwhelmed, and, honestly, kind of confused.

“So what?” you said, narrowing your eyes. “You just—” You gestured vaguely toward him, still trying to process the fact that you had just caught your boyfriend jerking off. “You couldn’t wait three more days?”

“I didn’t know you were coming home tonight!” Matt shot back defensively, his face still burning red. “What do you want me to do, put my dick in storage until you get back?”

“I don’t know, Matt, maybe not blast it at full volume like a goddamn IMAX movie?”

“It wasn’t that loud!”

“It was fucking loud enough to hear from the front door!”

Matt groaned again, tilting his head back against the headboard with a long, suffering sigh. “Jesus.”

The room fell into silence, except for the distant hum of the city outside. You stood there, arms crossed, the weight of your suitcase still digging into the back of your mind, while Matt sat there, still clutching the pillow like a lifeline.

Finally, you exhaled, rubbing your temples. “This is not how I expected my night to go.”

Matt peeked at you, lips twitching. “Yeah? What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, suddenly feeling stupid. “Maybe a cute little reunion? You’d be all excited, we’d cuddle, maybe I’d let you rail me into next week.”

Matt made a pained noise, squeezing his eyes shut like he was physically holding himself back from combusting. “You cannot say shit like that while I’m still hard.”

Your lips twitched. “That sounds like a you problem.”

“Oh my god.”

You finally let out a laugh, the tension in your chest easing as the absurdity of the situation caught up with you. Matt groaned again, rubbing his face, and you stepped forward, climbing onto the bed beside him.

“So…what were you watching?” you asked innocently, peeking at his phone.

“Absolutely not,” Matt said immediately, shoving it under the pillow.

“Come on,” you teased, nudging him. “If you’re gonna cheat on me with your hand, I at least deserve to know what kind of competition I’m up against.”

“Not a chance.”

“Let me guess—Furries?”

Matt shot you a look. “Do you think I hate myself?”

You snorted. “Taboo?”

“Absolutely not.”

“So, lesbians?”

Matt groaned and dropped his head onto your shoulder. “Can we not?”

You hummed, fingers threading through his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp. Matt’s breath hitched, his entire body going still against you. Even with the pillow clutched desperately over his lap, there was no hiding how painfully hard he still was.

“Seriously, you’re not gonna tell me?” you murmured, tilting your head to brush your lips against his temple.

Matt exhaled sharply through his nose. “Yeah, not a fucking chance.”

You smirked. “That’s fine.” Your hand slid down, nails trailing over his bare chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed under your touch. “I was just gonna suggest we recreate it. Y’know, make it a little more immersive.”

Matt groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “You are evil.”

You giggled, shifting closer until your thigh brushed against his. The heat radiating off of him was scorching, his body coiled tight with restraint. You could feel the way his fingers flexed against the pillow like he was fighting every instinct screaming at him to grab you instead.

“Well? Are you gonna just sit here and suffer, baby?” you taunted, voice sweet as you traced slow, teasing circles.

Matt inhaled sharply, and then, in one swift motion, he tossed the pillow aside and grabbed your wrist, yanking you into his lap. You gasped, hands splaying against his bare shoulders as your knees bracketed his hips.

“You think this is funny?” Matt’s voice was low, rough, his pupils blown wide as he glared up at you.

You bit your lip, feeling his cock twitch beneath you. “A little.”

Matt’s grip tightened around your waist, his fingers digging into your hips as he tilted his head back against the headboard, exhaling through his nose like he was trying to hold himself together. His jaw was tense, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard, but his hands were anything but still, roaming up and down your sides like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to punish you for teasing him or worship you for coming home early.

“You’re annoying ,” he muttered, but there was no real heat behind it—just a breathless kind of awe, like he still couldn’t believe you were actually here.

You grinned, rocking your hips just enough to feel the rigid length of him pressed against you, still achingly hard. “That’s what you get for trying to replace me with your hand.”

Matt groaned, dropping his head back against the headboard. “Oh my fucking—”

Before he could finish his sentence, he moved—flipping you both over so fast you barely had time to yelp before your back hit the mattress. The world spun for half a second, and then Matt was above you, caging you in with his forearms bracketing your head, his weight pressing deliciously against you.

“-God. You think you’re so funny,” he rasped, his nose brushing against yours, his lips barely an inch away.

You swallowed, your pulse pounding in your ears as his body heat consumed you. “I know I am.”

Matt rolled his eyes and let out a soft, breathy chuckle—then he was kissing you, slow and deep, his lips molding against yours like he wanted to drown in you. His hands were everywhere, skimming down your sides, slipping beneath your shirt to press against your bare skin, like he needed to feel every inch of you to make up for the time apart.

The need in his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and when he pulled back, his pupils were so blown out they nearly swallowed the hazel. “Missed you so much,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips.

Your chest tightened. “Show me.”

That was all it took.

Matt’s lips trailed down your neck, his mouth leaving open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone as he worked his way lower. His hands pushed your shirt up, and you lifted your arms to let him pull it over your head before he did the same with your shorts, tugging them down your legs in one smooth motion.

He groaned at the sight of you—just a soft sound in the back of his throat, but it sent heat pooling between your legs. “Fuck, baby,” he muttered, pressing his lips to your stomach as he slid lower. “Been thinkin’ about this all week.”

You shivered as he kissed just above the waistband of your panties, his fingers curling around the fabric before tugging it down. “Hurry up,”

He paused for a moment, giving you a look that had your own cheeks heating up as you huffed and looked away before he continued. The second you were bare beneath him, Matt’s breath hitched, his hands spreading your thighs apart as he settled between them.

“So beautiful” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh. “ always so fucking beautiful “

You can’t help the small whine that falls from your lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, your breath catching in your throat as he dragged his lips up, his nose brushing against your soaking cunt before he licked a slow, teasing stripe through your folds.

A gasp left your lips, “Oh-..” your hips arching off the bed, but Matt’s hands were already pressing you back down, keeping you in place.

“Stay still,” he murmured, his voice dripping with heat. “Gonna me take care of you.”

Then he was diving back in, his tongue curling around your clit in slow, torturous circles that had your toes curling. He ate you out like a man starved, like he’d been deprived of you for far too long and was determined to make up for every second.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, thighs trembling as pleasure coiled hot and tight in your stomach. “Matt,” you gasped, your voice breaking on his name.

He hummed against you, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through your body. His hands slid beneath your thighs, tilting your hips up as he buried his face deeper, licking and sucking like he was trying to ruin you.

You were already close, your body arching, your breathing uneven as Matt worked you closer and closer to the edge. His lips wrapped around your clit, his tongue flicking just right, and the coil inside you snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves.

Your vision went white as you came, a choked moan escaping your lips, but Matt didn’t stop. He groaned against you, his hips rutting against the mattress like he couldn’t help himself, desperate for friction. The realization sent another rush of heat through you, and you reached down, threading your fingers through his hair to pull him up.

His lips were slick and swollen when he looked at you, his pupils blown wide. “Kiss me please,” you whispered.

Matt surged up, pressing his body against yours, his cock hard and aching between you. His lips crashed against yours, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, the need in his kiss making your head spin. He shifts a little so his cock hits your inner thigh and with a low groan, he thrust against you—and the moment he did, his body stiffened, his breath hitching as he moaned into your mouth. His hips jerked against yours as he came, the tension finally snapping, and the sound that left him—deep, breathless, wrecked—was enough to send another wave of pleasure through you.

For a few moments, all you could do was lay there, tangled together, panting in the aftermath.

Then Matt looks at you, a small frown on his face before he spoke,

“Did you really think I’d cheat on you?”

authors note: i need to make a tag list post but im actually so lazy after writing it’s not funny

TAG LIST: @jetaimevous @sturnsblunt @riasturns @ifwdominicfike @chrissturns-wife @pip4444chris @ribread03 @ariestrxsh @angelic-sturniolos111 @pvssychicken @mattslolita @stvrnzcherries @dottieboo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @bluestriips @sturniolo-fann @chrisslut04 @owensbabygirl1987 @sturnslutz @sturniqlo @sofieeeeex @jadasmp4 @ncm9696 @courta13 @cutseylady

[evilminji]

You knooooowwww... >.>

The only difference, technically, between a school in the Zone? And on Earth? Is the American government won't recognize your Zone diploma...

Not accredited. But like..... I'm JUST SAYING? If you didn't try to pass your school off as some Big Ivy League type? Pulled the "oh yeah, you'd never have heard of it, it's local." And the COMPUTERS say it's legit?

How many people will dig deeper?

If you legitimately have the knowledge, you legitimately have the knowledge. Not YOUR fault you left out the whole "extra-dimensional" part. It makes folk nervous! And nervous folks get stabby.

So like? If you were ALREADY planning to "Move" as you euphemistically put it? Talked it over with your VERY concerned folks and friends? Who do NOT like the look of the steady but concerning rise of Anti-Ghost Powers That Be? Who finally put their foot down and reminded you that you are a TEENAGER and it's NOT your responsibility to fix the world?

Well...

Fuck those guys, I guess. You'll miss the old house, but Team "Taking our ball and going literally anywhere else" makes some good points. Why ARE you putting up with this?

And honestly, you've never SEEN your dad have so much fun. Him and the Reality Realtor just sorta... Vibe. Himbo to Himbo communications. Smatters of advanced physics. Fudge. It's great.

They move the portal. Collapse the old one in a way that makes it impossible to recover or recreate. You... kinda don't want to ask. They had that "mad scientist glint" in their eyes.

And while everyone's checking out brochures to different realities? You? Head off to the nearest College. It's the Zone, so technically you could go to any of endless billions. But you'd like your education some time this century.

Cue! Danny Fenton! Entering?

Academia's wet dream. A sprawling CITY of a college. Where the classes are on EVERYTHING and the price is FREE. People have Obsessions okay?? They NEED to teach. Debate and discuss! Study! Right papers and read them! It's been going on a while! And what happens when you find a subject that's NOT covered?

YOU COVER IT!

It's like if New York was a College. Good fucking luck find the dorms. Sleep on the floor like the rest of us, you casual.

Danny was Not Prepared ™.

He loves it though.

Classes on aeronautics next making the perfect sandwich, shoved next to historical basketry, stacked above alien slam poetry. But only on Tuesdays! Ever shifting. Breaking his Fenton Born Adhd in to a fine PASTE to be smeared upon bread. Happy mental stimulation chemicals go Brrrrrrrr

If it wasn't wildly inappropriate, he would LICK IT to claim it as his then wrap around it and gaurd like a territorial cat. He thought he HATED school! Turns out he just hated high-school. College though? College, or at least ZONE College, is fuckin AWESOME.

He's sit in SO MANY random classes just cause.

Picked up and dropped them at a whim. When they no longer sparked joy. He's been a flighty bitch and for once? No one CARES. No one says "you HAVE to commit and stick with this FOREVER once you choose this" and? It just? It's so FREEING! He's learned so MUCH!

He's probably gonna come back!

Which? Is how a deeply, DEEPLY weird aerospace engineer from supposedly bumfuck NOWHERE, end up working at Wayne Industries. He's.... a lil crazy behind the eyes. Ha ha... CONCERNING ™!

Dude sleeps on the lab floor. Has weirdly spotty knowledge. Can be an unprecedented genius one second and not know who the current president is the next. Doesn't know what DAY it is. Forgets to eat. Tried to make a fusion reactor out of the break room toaster before Sandra from accounting distracted him with pictures of her cat.

It's like he wanders through life blissfully unaware that he is both terrifying and about three seconds from killing them all. Then FUCKING TRIPS because he forgot to tie his shoelaces again.

Who hired this man?

WHY!?

I mean, we KNOW why. Probably to put him on a watch list. But? He's like a terrifying murder puppy! Built like a tank! That's stoned out of its mind half the time. And have you HEARD his college stories? That CAN'T be legal. Was this guy raised in a cult!? Aaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!????

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter

[tossawary]

Wei Wuxian's first meeting with teenage Jin Ling just gets funnier every time. Especially because, by this point, he should have a rough idea of how long it's been since he died, and he immediately recognizes Jin Ling as a member of the Jin Sect, clearly an important one if he's bossing other people around and spending absurd amounts of money on spiritual nets. If Wei Wuxian had spent A SINGLE MINUTE actively trying to guess this kid's identity, he probably could have worked out that this kid has a high chance of being his nephew.

But Wei Wuxian does not take the time (thirty seconds! WWX, you could have made an educated guess!) to figure out this kid's specific identity! He's just been wrestling with an incredibly stubborn donkey all day and he's probably hangry again because they had to share an apple. He just thinks to himself, "Wow, this Jin kid is a real spoiled brat," and goes from there!

"Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners?" he says obliviously to JIN LING, his own fucking nephew. When Jin Ling is FAMOUSLY ORPHANED. Like, you could go up to literally anyone on the street and be like, "What happened to that rich kid Jin Ling's parents?" and they would immediately tell you, "Oh, the evil Yiling Patriarch killed them, evilly." Very high chance that no one has ever said this particular insult to Jin Ling - extremely rich young master, most famous orphan in the cultivation world, in possession of some very scary uncles - before.

And from Jin Ling's perspective, this outrageous comment is coming from his OWN UNCLE, Mo Xuanyu, his late grandfather's bastard son who was kicked out of the sect for being gay and crazy. There is NO WAY that Mo Xuanyu could somehow not know that Jin Ling has no parents, so of course, this has to be an intentional low-blow insult bringing up and disparaging his dead mother. So, of course this brat tries to start a fight! Mo Xuanyu started it with words like that!

And then Wei Wuxian trips him and essentially sits on him (using a talisman), there's the whole "My uncle is going to kill you!" & "Who's your uncle?" exchange, and Jiang Cheng immediately interrupts them. And Wei Wuxian has to do the sudden, incredibly simple, damning mental calculation of: "Jin kid + Jiang Cheng for an uncle = Oh, fuck."

It's funny every single time.

[dcxdpdabbles]

#Holiday requests If you're not too busy I would love another part to cinnamon rolls son. Love your writing, it really is a great inspiration, you got me out of my own writing slump.

The Justice League was at their wits ends with Dan. Disaster struck no matter what they attempted to ensure he developed some softer traits.

First, Barry had the bright idea to show him the wonders of volunteer work to help the community. If he could value the life of humans, surely he wouldn't destroy it in the far future. As a teenager, Barry had punched hours of volunteering in the local hospital to play and read to the sick children in bed.

He had done it because he enjoyed making children smile and built up his resume for college. Barry was many things, but being wealthy enough to afford college wasn't one of them. He wanted to apply for as many scholarships as possible, so he started his community service campaign from an early age.

On the first day of their community service, Barry had taken him to clean up the local beach. An hour into the work, a shark had been spotted near the swimmers, and Dan had dived in to rescue a little girl from its jaws.

Dan had been hailed a hero until he picked up the girl's father and threw him into the water towards said shark. The father had ignored his seven-year-old daughter for his mistress. Apparently, once Dan overheard the man panicking more about his wife finding out the beach father-daughter beach day was just an excuse to cheat on her than his crying daughter in the ambulance, Dan had figured he needed to be taught a lesson.

Dan stood over him while the man screamed and splashed, pointing and laughing. Were it not for the Flash's sudden appearance, well....Dan may have actually fed that cheating cum bag to the sharks.

Bruce added it to the shared drive, asking Barry to include a complete detailed report, by the hour, of what happened. They figured they could analyze Dan and find what could make him snap.

Next, Clark took Dan to his family farm. He claimed nothing brought up good children like his mother and father's gentle but firm parenting,g plus the wonders of the hard farmer life. Clark was sure Dan would enjoy all the open space, the animals, and working in the fields.

Within the hour of the pair arriving at the farm, Dan happily weeded around the field. Clark was somewhat surprised by how quick he took to the job. He went inside to help Ma ready some pie and Clark's legendary lemonade as a reward.

It only took a few minutes since Ma had already put the pie to cook before they arrived. The two were gone long enough that Clark could make a nice pitcher and take a few seconds to smell the mouthwatering pie.

He went back into the field carrying a tray of a plated two-slice pie and a cold glass cup, only to stop dead in his tracks. Dan was kneeling, laughing manically towards the sky, within the circle of burning weeds.

The flames were a green and black color. Its dark smoke shifted into what appeared to be screaming humans. The worst part, however, was the lines of what appeared to be renamed scarecrows wearing shackles as they harvest Pa's cornfield.

Clark was horrified.

Batman had added to the drive, "Gave life to inanimate things just to enslave them."

Hal was the next one to try, but no one knew what happened on their Become A Better Person trip. Hal refused to place a report, only stating that he could never look at Hawaiian pizza again. He threw up when Barry brought one in for a long meeting.

At least Phantom seemed happy they were still attempting to save his son. His daughter was also more well-behaved, spending most of her days traveling. It was strange to associate her with Phantom because if there was one thing Dani liked to do, it was pick fights.

She had fought through Darkside's defenses to challenge him to a pie-eating contest. She freed half of his planet on her way out, but not before beating them up to get them to listen.

Her father would have spent time trying to do things peacefully. Not Dani. She did stuff through her fists.

Batman had added classifications to the three ghosts in the file. Phantom was Lawfully good, Dani Chaotic good, and Dan was marked as Chaotic neutral. The rest of the league suspects that his children added those, but no one was brave enough to point it out.