#it might be one of those things I have to set aside and say hey it’s fictional so chill out

[blog-of-reaction]

So it seems like Richie’s back now. I guess killing that bank teller and finally getting weird knowledge vision shit really helped him.

[coryndoll]

hate to be lame

rafe cameron x reader

— in which y/n, caught in a situationship with rafe, struggles to admit she might love him, constantly holding back her feelings while fearing that confessing could make things more complicated.

inspired by: “hate to be lame” (major) & “ceilings” (minor) by lizzy mcalpine

warnings: super long omfg, me treating this like a music video again LMAO, situationships, swearing, mention of drug use, no hard concepts just rafe who can’t commit to you (yet)

authors note: this has been in the works for a good few weeks lowkey. i literally studied lizzy mcalpine mvs top to BOTTOM to rly portray this mini story as best as i can. hope u guys enjoy!!

i tried to add as much as i could for ppl to notice (hopefully), but ESPECIALLY like parallels of the beginning n the end of the oneshot with the opening of the door and saying “hey”!! i wanted this to be little short film core

your room is cold, and you feel your fingers tingling as you pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders. the clock ticks softly, but each minute feels slower than the last.

you aren’t sure why, but today you’re more anxious than usual, counting down the seconds until rafe shows up. it’s not like you have any real plans, just the usual aimless drive or hanging out.

but the thought of seeing him again—his smile, the way he looks at you, even when he’s not saying anything—makes waiting almost unbearable.

you’ve been more than friends but less than boyfriend and girlfriend for the past five months now. you know it’s wrong, but you know you’ll do the same thing you’ll be doing until you reach six months: push it aside and just enjoy the moment.

you can’t tell if rafe is only there for the pleasure, but if that’s the case then you wouldn’t be hearing about his dreams or the way he struggles with trust. and you’re foolish enough to believe that maybe he’s just scared, and that’s why he can’t commit.

right on time, his texts come in one after the other.

‘ hey ’

‘ otw ’

‘ 5 minutes ’

a faint smile tugs at your lips as you send him a quick ‘okay,’ watching the message sit there, unread. but when the notification changes to ‘read’ and there’s no reply, you drop your phone on your bed and get up.

just as you’re finishing, the faint sound of a knock echoes through the house, and you know that it’s him. you head downstairs quickly, and when you finally reach the front door, your hand hesitates on the handle, but you push them down and swing it open, revealing him standing there. his gaze flickers over you, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“hey,” he says.

and there’s that smile again, “hey.��

rafe’s ring-clad hand grips the steering wheel tightly, veins visible beneath his skin as his knuckles flex. his other arm is draped out the open window, resting easily on the door. you glance over at him, watching the way he seems so effortless behind the wheel, like he was born to be in control, and the engine hums beneath you.

you can’t help but steal glances at him, the way his jaw sets when he focuses, the flicker of light as it catches on his ring every time he turns the wheel. you wonder if he knows how these small details, the smallest shifts in his posture, have started to consume your thoughts.

you know what this is supposed to be—casual, undefined—but sitting here, so close to him, makes it harder to convince yourself that it’s just that. just casual.

and sometimes it makes you wonder—does he feel it too? does he fight the same pull you do?

you and rafe end up at a two-story building, bright and welcoming downstairs. it’s one of those places you’d mentioned a few times, new on the island, somewhere you’d been dying to try.

upstairs, you grab a table in the open air, no roof above, just the sky. pillars hold up a net laced with flowers and plants, the same ones woven into the building’s logo on the far wall. a bar counter curves along that wall, half-circling it. it’s gorgeous.

you’re laughing, enjoying lunch with him. he looks beautiful, just by being there, the way he always has. doesn’t matter what you are—friends, strangers, stuck in this limbo of a situationship—you’ve always felt this way about him.

rafe leans forward, arms crossed on the table, telling you a story that keeps you laughing, each detail funnier than the last.

eventually, the day drifts into the afternoon, and you find yourselves in town, just hanging out. you drag him into a bookstore, then a music store, even a museum, wandering from place to place. hours later, when you’re hungry again, you make a quick stop a small convenience store.

you’re tucking your phone into your purse when you glance outside, noticing the sky’s turned dark, and more importantly, it’s raining.

“alright, catch you later, simon. thanks!” rafe says, grabbing the snacks off the counter. he raises his free hand in a quick wave as he turns, glancing down at you with a smirk while you follow him out.

rafe hands you your snacks, and you take them with a small smile, watching him closely to see his reaction when he realizes it started raining while you were inside. his brows raise as he looks outside, then down at you again. both of you are thinking the same thing—you parked a block away, and now you’ll have to rush to the car without getting soaked.

you pop a piece of candy in your mouth, staring at the rain across the street, when rafe reaches out. “c’mon,” he murmurs, and you take it without hesitation.

the two of you make a break for it, trying to walk as fast as possible without slipping or getting in the way of traffic. the rain pelts down around you, but you’re laughing, and rafe’s grinning as you both duck under the first marquee for cover.

you both continue walking, the car finally coming into view just up ahead. he has to jog around to get to the driver's side. as he moves, you step out from under the last marquee and into the rain, letting it soak through your clothes and into your skin. you tilt your head up, eyes clamped shut, nose scrunched, savoring the moment, even if it’s just a few seconds of quiet, cold rain.

“get in the car,” rafe calls out, his voice cutting through the sound, and you glance over at him, already opening the door.

you shoot him a look, digging into your bag of candy, before tossing a piece at him like he’s ruined the moment. it bounces off his shoulder and he slides into the car without another word, but you can tell he’s amused. with a sigh, you climb into the passenger seat, still dripping wet.

before you know it, the car slows, the tires crunching against the gravel as rafe pulls up to his house. it’s massive, even more so than you remember. cold and impressive, it stands there like a fortress—his world.

for a second, you’re lost in thought. rafe pulls into the garage, parking to avoid the rain still pouring outside. he gets out, crumpling the empty chip bag in his hand, twisting off the lid to his drink with the other to take a few gulps before shutting the car door.

you linger inside a bit longer, popping another candy into your mouth as your eyes wander around the camerons’ garage—messy, yet somehow still clean and wide open.

rafe rounds the front of the car, heading for the door that leads into the house. without a word, he slips inside, leaving you behind in the garage. he does leave his keys on the table beside the door, trusting you to lock the car for him since you’re still in there.

you sit there a moment, your head tilting as you look over at the driver’s seat, replaying the small moments in your mind—running across the street in the rain, how he’s paid for you, or the simple ‘hey’ when he picked you up earlier.

a small, soft smile touches your lips before you finally get out of the car. you crush the candy wrapper in your fist, grab the keys to lock the car, and slip inside the house, the garage door clicking shut behind you.

after hours of being at the cameron’s, only the soft patter of raindrops now begins tapping against the glass, just as you settle into the familiar bay window. you tuck your legs beneath you, leaning your head against the window frame as you stare out into the backyard.

you’ve sat here so many times before—usually with sarah, the two of you giggling about nothing in particular, watching the sky and talking about anything. but tonight, it’s just you and rafe.

the house feels quieter without her, without anyone really, except for the occasional murmur of rafe’s voice as he takes his phone call from the other room. he was quick to excuse himself when the phone rang, retreating upstairs where you couldn't overhear. not that you’d pry, but it’s not like you don’t know about rafe’s involvement with deals in the outerbanks, drugs, cash, or both. you turn a blind eye.

he walks back into the room eventually, his footsteps quiet but still pulling your focus from the window. you feel him glance at you, almost like he's about to say something, but he hesitates when he notices the way you’re sitting there, staring out at the rain.

he knows you too well—years of history have given him that advantage, not just the past few months of this undefined mess you're both tangled in. he’s seen you like this before, especially today, always itching to be outside when the rain falls, drawn to it in a way he’s never really understood.

without a word, he walks over to the door leading to the backyard. the soft creak of the door handle catches your attention, pulling you from your thoughts. you watch as he stands there for a moment, his hand resting on the doorframe, looking at you.

no words pass between you, but the way he gestures outside, a playful tilt of his head, says everything. it’s almost like a silent ‘after you’ as if he’s jokingly daring you to go out into the rain.

a smile breaks across your face, and before you know it, you’re up. you brush past him, feeling his presence right behind you as you step outside. the cool rain meets your skin, soaking into your clothes almost instantly, but you don’t care. rafe is close, following you out into the yard, his chuckle barely audible over the sound of the rain as it picks up.

the two of you don’t need to say anything. you just move, running across the wet grass, spinning around to feel the individual drops as they fall on your face. you pause every now and then, standing in place, arms spread out wide to feel the rain cover you like a blanket. but the peace never lasts long before rafe is at your side again, tackling you to the ground with a sudden burst of energy. you both fall, rolling across the grass in a fit of laughter, his weight pressing into you briefly before you push him off with a shove.

you end up on your backs, lying there side by side in the rain. your breath comes in short bursts from all the laughing, and there’s a calmness that settles over the two of you. you turn your head to look at him, and there’s something in the way he looks back at you, rain dripping down his face. it’s just you and him, the world around you disappearing into the sound of the rain, the hum of your heartbeat in your ears.

in that moment, you feel something deeper. something that goes beyond the undefined territory you’ve been navigating for months. there’s a connection—stronger than before, pulling you in, making you wonder how you ever let yourself fall this far. you feel it with every glance, every brush of his hand against yours as you lay there.

and then, almost without warning, it’s over. you’re in the car again, the engine quietly rumbling as rafe drives you home. the rain hasn’t let up, the windshield wipers swishing back and forth, and the streetlights blur past as you sit in silence.

you sit in the passengers seat, wrapped in rafe’s oversized hoodie, the warmth of it settling against your skin, but the comfort feels fleeting. your clothes had been drenched from the rain, and now, you’re dressed in his.

you don’t want it to end. when you were out there with him, laughing in the rain, time seemed to stretch. it was simple, effortless—like the world stopped just for you. you find yourself wishing it could stay that way, even for just a little longer.

but now, here you are, in his car, the night creeping closer to its end as he drives you home. you rest your head against the seat, staring out at the blurry glow of the streetlights through the rain-streaked windows. in your mind, the memories play on repeat, each one a familiar echo of nights like this.

there’s a pattern—you recognize it now. the closeness, the laughter, the silence when neither of you acknowledges what this really is. a situationship, something more than friendship but never quite a relationship. yet, despite it all, you don’t care. being with him in this confusing, undefined space feels better than being without him.

the car slows as he pulls up to your house, and the quiet reality hits. you glance at him, but he doesn’t say anything, just pulls out his phone when he gets a phone call, but he glances at you when you just sit there. it’s enough. you step out into the cool air, the dampness of the rain lingering in the night as you head inside.

the house is quiet, save for the faint clink of dishes in the kitchen. you walk in, and as you make your way to the fridge, your mom looks up from the counter, her eyes catching on your borrowed clothes. “whose clothes are those?” she asks, her voice casual but curious.

you shrug, opening the fridge and grabbing a water bottle. “rafes,” you reply simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. you don’t stick around for her reaction, turning and heading for the stairs, the sound of your footsteps fading as you make your way up.

as soon as you reach your room, you dive onto your bed and roll onto your back. your phone buzzes in your pocket, pulling your attention. with a sigh, you pull it out and open a group chat with your friends. for a second, your fingers hover over the screen, and then, without thinking too much, you begin typing.

how do you know when ur in

your fingers pause over the last word. the L word. it feels too heavy, too real to even finish typing. your thoughts stumble, second-guessing. do you really want their advice on this? what would they even say? maybe it’s not something your friends can help you with. not this.

with a slight shake of your head, you delete the message, watching the cursor blink on an empty screen before you lock your phone and drop it onto your chest.

just nights later, you get word that some pogues are throwing a party at the boneyard, but it’s not just any—it’s sarah’s friends.

you look over to rafe as he gets out of the car, his eyes scanning the beach. topper and kelce are already talking by the car, but rafe’s focus is sharp, as if nothing really starts until he steps into the mix.

he walks around to your side, opening the door and offering his hand. you take it so he can help you out of the car. his grip is firm, the way he holds you close as you step onto the soft sand beneath your shoes.

his arm is slung across your shoulder, and he gives you a playful shake as he leads the way toward the party.

even though he doesn’t say a word, the pressure of his touch says enough. it’s protective, almost possessive, like he’s staking a claim. you glance at him.

he wants you close, needs you to be within his reach, and you know it’s not just casual. it’s the way he is, the way he’s always been with you—controlling, protective. he walks slightly ahead, his arm guiding you forward as if he’s leading you, ensuring you’re exactly where he wants you to be.

and despite the way your body tenses beneath his touch, despite the chill that runs through you as his fingers press into your back, you let him. you tell yourself it’s just rafe being rafe—always wanting control, always needing to know where you are. it’s intoxicating in a way, the way he holds you there, the way he’s so sure that you belong with him.

your skin prickles, not because you’re afraid, but because there’s a part of you that knows this isn’t normal—this isn’t how it should feel. yet, despite that little voice in the back of your mind, you follow him. you always do.

you make your way into the heart of the party with your friends. the air smells like salt and smoke, laughter and music filling the space between the flickering bonfires. rafe’s hand slips from yours, but he doesn’t stray far, keeping close as he weaves his way through the crowd.

people greet him—some with a nod, some with a smile—but it’s like there’s an invisible line drawn around the two of you, keeping the rest of the world at arm’s length. and you don’t mind. not when it feels this good.

it doesn’t take long before rafe comes back with some drinks, and without missing a beat, he pulls you in closer to him. you laugh, sip your drink, and enjoy the chaos of the night, but there’s a quiet satisfaction that hums underneath it all. it’s the feeling of practically being his—of knowing that he knows it too.

the night spirals into a blur. somewhere between the music and the shots, you’ve lost count of how much you’ve had to drink. the warmth of the alcohol buzzes through your veins, making everything feel softer, the edges of reality blurring. but topper is there to catch you when you start to sway just a little too much.

“you okay?” he asks, his voice warm as a faint smile appears on his face.

“yeah, just a little tipsy,” you giggle, leaning into him, feeling the world tilt slightly.

as the night wears on, you find yourself laughing at everything, dancing wildly under the stars, the sound of waves crashing nearby blending with the music. but by the end of the night, it’s clear you’re done. you’re not sure if it’s the drinks or the way rafe is nowhere to be seen half of the time.

“this party is lame,” rafe comments as he finds you, topper, and kelce by a bonfire. he’s holding one of the red solo cups but he’s uninterested.

kelce shrugs, “to you, maybe. ‘cause there’s no snow.”

rafe weaves his way through the boys to reach you. “you’re staying with me tonight,” he says, and you don’t argue. you just nod, letting him guide you to the car, his hand gripping yours like an anchor.

once you reach his car, he opens the door for you, his hand lingering on your waist as you slide into the passenger seat. “you really had a good time, huh?” he teases, starting the engine.

“best night ever,” you reply, a goofy grin spreading across your face. you look over at him, feeling a warmth blooming in your chest, the alcohol making everything feel more intense. you just wish you saw more of him that night.

when you arrive at his house, he helps you out of the car. you stumble slightly but he catches you. “easy, easy,” he mutters, leading you inside.

even when his words are dry, and his touch is barely there, you cling to moments like this, convincing yourself it means something.

still, being this close feels good. it always does. you want to tell him—everything. to spill out the truth that’s been gnawing at you for weeks, months. but you know better. don’t ruin the moment, you think, your teeth worrying your bottom lip. it’s too good to ruin. too fragile to risk.

you want to tell him everything, to let it all out. but you can’t. not when he’s like this, not when he looks at you like nothing’s changed.

and now, you’re lying in his bed, the room spinning just a little. the pillows are soft beneath your head, and rafe is standing at the edge of the bed, watching you. his expression is unreadable, but there’s a slight furrow in his brow, like he’s trying to figure something out.

“just get some rest. you’ll feel better in the morning,” he says.

he’s standing over you, and for a moment, your thoughts are louder than the room. he looks at you like he always does—unreadable. it feels like the words are stuck, heavy and burning at the back of your throat. maybe he already knows. he has to. with how often you’re by his side, how you’ve never left, even when he’s cold and distant. it’s so obvious, isn’t it?

“okay. thank you for taking care of me,” you murmur, your words slurring slightly, the alcohol clouding your mind. you look at him, trying to read his expression, wanting to see something—anything—that suggests he cares.

you bite your tongue, trying to keep it all inside, but then the words start slipping, slow at first, like they have a mind of their own. “i love—”

you catch yourself, the words teetering on the edge of your lips. your heart races as you realize what you almost let slip, a rush of fear flooding through you. what are you doing? your heart is pounding and you feel like within a second, you’re able to turn completely sober.

silence. it’s so loud it’s almost suffocating. you force yourself to look up, desperately searching his face for a reaction, anything. but there’s nothing. his expression doesn’t change, not even a flicker of surprise or discomfort. just that same calm, indifferent look he always has.

it’s like he didn’t even register it—or something worse.

“go to sleep,” he says, his voice flat. he takes a step back, glancing towards the door, like he’s already moving on. “i’ll be back.”

all you can do is nod, your heart still racing from the near-slip. “okay,” you whisper, and you pull the blanket tighter around you.

you can’t breathe. you can’t move. your heart is still racing as you watch him leave, the door closing softly behind him. you sink back into the bed, pulling the covers over yourself, but the warmth is gone.

your head spins with everything unsaid, and you can’t shake the feeling that it’s too late.

he doesn’t care. he doesn’t care the way you do. the words hang in the air, heavy and unspoken. a chill runs down your spine as you replay the moment in your head, the way he dismissed your feelings without even a second glance.

he doesn’t care that you almost admitted you loved him? that, or . . . yeah, rafe already knows. and in some way, that scares you more than anything.

you can remember the first time you met rafe—back when you were kids, in middle school. you’d known of the cameron family, but you’d never been around enough to meet rafe specifically. for so long, it felt like you were in two different worlds. but in middle school, rafe finally noticed you, only to say something rude.

it stung, but you were kids. that was the odd beginning of your friendship. it was rough at first, barely getting along most of the time as barely acquaintances. still, you liked being friends with sarah, even if she was a few years younger. you two weren’t super close because of the age gap, but once you hit high school, you didn’t mind looking out for her when she needed it.

only then did rafe approach you again since middle school. he told you to stay away from his sister, as if you were some kind of bad influence. you weren’t, and you told him as much, calling him stupid. that was the end of it—for that day, at least.

you two shared more classes that junior year than you would’ve liked, which meant seeing him nearly every day. you never went out of your way to be rude unless he started it, and he always did. if he saw you, he usually took the chance to say or do something to get under your skin. still, it wasn’t like he was out to get you—it was more like an unspoken routine.

things only lightened up in senior year. you ended up helping him at some volunteer event he didn’t want to go to, and neither did you. you’d brought a flask, figuring it would take the edge off the boredom, and it helped break the ice between you two.

by the next week, you crossed paths again. you drove yourself to and from school, but your tire went flat one day, probably from driving over something sharp in the parking lot while pulling in during the morning.

you didn’t know how to change it, and as luck would have it, rafe spotted you on his way to his friend’s car. he stopped and helped you out. ever since that day, it felt like something shifted, and the foundation for your friendship started to take root.

“y/n,” rafe calls, snapping you out of your thoughts. you immediately turn to your window, tearing off your blankets as you make your way over to peek between the blinds.

there he is, leaning casually against the door of his truck, chewing some gum and fiddling with the wrapper. without wasting time, you rush to pull on your shoes and grab your bag, ready to head out.

now, you’re leaning against the rail of kelce’s boat, staring into your cup as the wind whips around you. it’s the usual sandbar party, and you’re already en route, cruising across the water.

the sun is bright, forcing you to squint when you glance up, scanning the boat for familiar faces. kooks everywhere—laughing, drinking, pre-gaming before the afternoon on the beach. in one hand, you clutch your drink and a pair of sunglasses, in the other, your phone.

you absentmindedly toss your hair off your shoulder, then peer over the rail to watch the water rush past beneath you. two people approach—a boy and a girl, probably friends of kelce’s since everyone got an invite to ride with him.

they linger nearby, the girl shifting nervously until she finally speaks up, “i like your top.” her words come out fast, almost as if she’s afraid you won’t hear her.

you glance her way, taking her in with a brief nod. “i like your . . . shoes,” you reply, offering a small smile. the girl’s wearing sneakers—not exactly the best choice for a day at the beach, but you’re just poking fun.

she seems to miss the teasing tone, accepting the compliment with a hesitant, “thanks.”

the boy steps forward now, smoothly joining the conversation. “how long you been in the outer banks?” he asks, like it’s no big deal, just another casual question.

you tilt your head slightly, thinking for a moment. “most of my life. you and your girl new to the island?”

the boy looks quickly at the girl, and she immediately looks away. “no, we’re just friends,” he says, glancing back at you while you watch them both closely. there’s something unspoken between them, though—especially when the girl throws him a quick, hurt look. clearly, there’s more to their story.

you extend your hand, breaking the tension. “y/n.”

“jasper,” he says, shaking your hand, and for a moment, his gaze locks with yours. but your attention quickly shifts to the girl beside him. you hold out your hand, waiting for her introduction, and after a brief pause, she reaches out.

“i’m isabelle,” she mumbles softly, her voice almost getting lost in the wind.

you give her a genuine smile. the teasing earlier probably didn’t help, but this feels like a better moment. you shake her hand, but something catches your eye. the light glints off the bracelet on her wrist, a delicate piece of jewelry that stands out against her skin. instinctively, you pause, twisting her hand gently to get a better look.

“that’s really pretty,” you say, your voice filled with genuine admiration. isabelle looks a little flustered, glancing down at the bracelet herself before offering an awkward smile.

“my mom gave it to me recently,” she explains, her voice soft, almost like she’s revealing something personal.

you raise your eyebrows, nodding like you figured. “she has good taste,” you say, pulling your hand away and giving her a playful grin. “i wish i had one like that.”

isabelle smiles, this time with a bit more warmth, as you take a sip of your drink. beside you, jasper checks his beer can, frowning slightly.

“i’m out,” he says, looking toward where kelce and rafe are talking. “kelce said he had some in the cooler. be right back.”

you watch him go, your eyes drifting toward rafe as he talks with kelce. for a second, you catch him looking at you, the briefest flicker of attention before he refocuses on jasper approaching. jasper’s probably asking where the cooler is.

you glance over at isabelle, who’s now standing beside you, her posture awkward, her drink clutched tightly in her hand.

you tilt your head at her, curiosity getting the better of you. “is he sure that you and him are just friends?”

isabelle looks startled, her eyes widening as she whips back around to face you, blinking rapidly like she’s been caught off guard. she looks away, the blush creeping into her cheeks as she stares down at her drink.

“he’s sure,” she mumbles, her voice small. “i’m not.”

you wince. the way she said it, the quiet frustration—it all sounds way too familiar. but you wave the thought off. it’s not about you right now.

isabelle looks at you, her lips twitching upward in a shy smile. “i’ve liked him since we were kids,” she admits, the words spilling out now like she’s been holding onto them for too long. “we’re only here for the summer, and our parents are best friends with kelce’s, so . . . i don’t know. it’s just complicated. i don’t think he can even read any of the hints i throw at him.”

you place a delicate hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “well, if he doesn’t see that, then he’s stupid,” you say with a small smile, your tone light but firm. “seriously, he’s an idiot if he can’t tell.”

you give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “he’ll either figure it out, or you’ll find someone who’s not blind,” you say, shrugging. “either way, you’ve got it.”

isabelle shakes her head and looks down at her drink, swirling it gently, the ice clinking softly against the plastic cup. she’s quiet for a second, like she’s not sure if she should even bother saying the rest. but then she lets out a sigh, giving in.

“you know,” she starts, voice low but steady, “sometimes i wonder if he even notices. like, i’ve tried. i really have. but sometimes i feel like he’s just choosing not to see it. maybe it’s easier for him that way, not having to deal with what comes next. and . . . what if i’m wasting all this time waiting for something that’s never going to happen? that scares me the most. i don’t want to look back and feel stupid for hoping.”

isabelle glances up, her brows furrowed, a soft laugh escaping her that sounds more like a breath of frustration. “but what really gets me is the fear of losing him completely. like, what if this—this friendship, or whatever it is—is all we’re meant to be? if i tell him, and he doesn’t feel the same . . . i ruin everything. so maybe i should just keep this, even if it’s not everything i want, than lose him altogether.”

you listen in silence, your chest tightening as isabelle’s words sink in. you nod slightly, acknowledging how close to home they hit. it’s like she’s pulled the thoughts straight from your own mind and laid them out between you.

all those late nights you spent wondering the same thing about rafe, the moments you brushed aside the hints you were giving him, thinking it was easier for him not to notice. you regret the other night at the party. that’s probably the furthest you’ve gotten to practically telling him how you feel.

because dealing with what comes after—if there is even any after—would change everything. maybe you’re scared of that too. of ruining whatever it is you already have, even if it’s not enough anymore.

isabelle takes an innocent sip of her drink, like she hadn’t just spilled her deepest fears. she glances around, shrugging softly. “anyway, that’s how my love life is going.” she laughs, but it’s hollow, like she’s trying to play it off as nothing, like it doesn’t really matter.

you don’t respond right away. instead, you find yourself staring at her, watching as she shifts uncomfortably, unsure of what to do with the vulnerability she just shared. your gaze drifts, following the trail of sunlight dancing over the water as the boat cuts through it.

isabelle’s words replay in your mind, over and over, threading together with every uncertain feeling you’ve been holding onto about rafe. you’ve been walking this fine line with him for what feels like forever, stuck between wanting more and being afraid of losing what you already have. and now, you’re not sure which way you’re leaning anymore.

you pause for a moment, thinking. the words hang on your tongue, but you’re not sure if you should ask. finally, you look at isabelle, your voice careful, like you’re testing the waters. “so you’re just never gonna tell him?” you ask, the question feeling like it’s aimed at both of you.

isabelle shakes her head quickly, like she didn’t mean for it to sound that definite. “no, not never,” she says, shrugging. “this isn’t something i’d take to my grave or anything. maybe when we’re older, when things aren’t so clustered for us right now. i think if we were around each other more often, maybe then i’d say something, but that’s not something i can risk under our circumstances right now.”

you just nod, absorbing her words. there it is—that’s what sets you and isabelle apart.

you get it, the fear of telling someone how you feel, whether it’s like or love, especially when the timing is off or the distance makes it easier to hide. but you and rafe? there’s no distance, no gap keeping you apart. you’ve been inseparable for years, always around each other, no excuses. and yet, here you are.

you blink a few times, but you don’t say anything, the weight of it settling between you and isabelle like a silent understanding. you both turn your attention to the horizon as the boat nears the shore of an island not far from figure eight.

you lean into rafe’s side, his arm draped casually across your shoulder, pulling you in closer, while he talks to the group—kelce, topper, isabelle, jasper—all standing around in a loose circle.

laughter flows freely, and the air smells like sunscreen and the salt of the ocean. people all around have set up umbrellas, towels, coolers—transforming the stretch of beach into a party that’s as chaotic as it is carefree. music blares from portable speakers, the kind you feel in your chest, vibrating through the sand.

volleyball games erupt further down the beach, and the sound of drunken laughter and splashing water fills the air as people float lazily on oversized inflatables.

someone cheers as a girl stumbles down to the water, pulling up her shirt in a flash of skin before diving in, the moment met with more hollering and clapping. it's all easy, light—everyone’s just letting loose, and you’re swept up in it.

you find yourself spending most of the afternoon alongside isabelle, both of you lounging in the sun, sipping drinks and sharing amused glances as the day carries on. there’s this unspoken ease between you now, something that started back on the boat. you talk without pressure, just floating through the day’s moments together.

but there are moments with rafe too. he finds you in the crowd, his hand slipping into yours as he tugs you away, guiding you through the chaos. he hugs you close, his breath warm against your ear as he leans in to say something you can’t quite hear over the noise, but it doesn’t matter. wherever he goes, you follow, and the two of you string each other along from one spot to the next, like you’re tethered together.

and then there’s that kiss. it happens just before you leave the sandbar, when the sun has started to dip lower in the sky. it’s abrupt, initiated by rafe, but it feels like something he needed to do, like he couldn’t let the day end without it.

his lips are warm, lingering on yours longer than usual, and everything else falls away. it’s like you’re the only two people left on the beach, the distant chatter and music fading into the background.

when he pulls back, it’s only for a second before he leans in again, his hands tightening on your waist, not wanting to let you go. you stare up at him after, your heart thudding in your chest, adoration in your eyes as you hold his gaze.

but now you’re home, and the contrast is stark. the dim lighting making the space feel colder, emptier. the energy of the sandbar is gone, replaced by an unsettling quiet. you sit on your couch, your leg bounces up and down, restless, as you stare blankly ahead.

the silence of your empty house is deafening. the faint ringing in your ears from the silence draws you into your thoughts—back to yesterday, back to the way rafe held you close, the way his presence felt like an anchor.

you felt safe, maybe even whole, when you were with him. but now, sitting here alone, the difference is almost suffocating. it’s strange how quickly it can shift—one day surrounded by people, warmth, noise, and the next, alone with only your thoughts, replaying every detail, every touch, every feeling.

the way things are now, it’s safe. there’s no risk, no line to cross that you can’t uncross. but if you were to tell him, to lay it all out there, could you handle the fallout?

because what if he doesn’t feel the same?

but then he kissed you. like he did yesterday, so suddenly, so effortlessly, pulling you into him like it’s second nature. it’s like he knew exactly when to pull you back in, just when you were starting to think too much. and just like that, all those questions you’ve been holding onto, the ones that sit heavy on your chest every time you’re near him, dissolve. because when he kisses you like that, it’s easy to forget everything else.

they vanish, swallowed by the feeling of him, so close, making you feel like maybe you don’t need to figure it all out right now.

but even then, just for a second, it’s on the tip of your tongue. you almost say it, almost let it slip, but you stop yourself. you always do.

i love you.

you convince yourself it’s not the right time, not the right moment, or maybe it’s not something you should say at all. and just when you’re about to pull away, to push the thought down like you always do, he kissed you again.

and just like that, you’re right back where you started. questioning, doubting, but never fully letting go. the feelings circling around inside you, waiting for the next time you’re close enough for them to surface again.

the next few days blur together, each one melting into the next. it feels as though you’re standing still, trapped in your bubble of emotions while everyone else rushes past you, moving faster and faster.

your best friend’s voice cuts through the fog of your thoughts, calling your name with a playful urgency, like she’s been doing for the past few moments. you blink, looking away from the raindrops on the window and finally focusing on her, the light in her eyes breaking through your haze.

“what?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, still slightly disoriented.

she laughs, a warm sound that pulls you back into the moment. as she continues talking, you lean into your pillow, letting the comfort envelop you.

the conversation drifts toward summer plans—what they have been up to, the adventures they’ve had. your friend shares her own stories of beach trips and spontaneous late-night drives.

“we should definitely go to that new froyo place tomorrow,” she suggests. “i heard they have all these crazy flavors. oh my g— remember last summer when we tried to make our own?”

you smile at the memory, letting it wash over you. just as you’re settling into the rhythm of the conversation, your mom pops her head in, breaking the moment. “dinner’s almost ready,” she calls from the doorway.

“thanks, mom,” you murmur, your voice soft as you turn your head slightly to give her a smile. she nods, and with that, she slips away, leaving the door ajar.

as soon as she’s gone, you lean back down, resting your elbow on your pillow and propping your head on your hand. your gaze drifts to your phone, almost expectantly, fingers itching to scroll through your notifications. you’re not even sure what you’re hoping for, but the silence feels heavy, and a part of you longs for a message.

your friend watches you closely, an amused smile creeping onto her lips. “do you want to text him?” she asks casually, the knowing glimmer in her eyes saying she’s onto you.

“him?” you feign innocence, raising an eyebrow. there really isn’t anyone else in your life who fits the bill like rafe, but you can’t just assume. she, however, sees right through you.

“come on, y/n. you know who i’m talking about.” she gets comfortable on your bed, sinking into the pillows as she watches you, her interest piqued. “what’s the deal with him anyway?”

you hesitate, slow to respond, feeling the weight of the question. you can’t seem to pinpoint how to explain what’s been going on. “things are good,” you say finally, the words feeling vague and hollow even as they leave your lips.

the look on your best friend’s face shifts immediately, arching an eyebrow. “good? really?” she prompts, tilting her head as if trying to pry more out of you.

you roll your eyes, exasperated by her unwavering gaze. “fine, it’s complicated,” you admit, the truth slipping out before you can stop it. you grab your phone, sinking deeper into your pillow, scrolling through your notifications as if the action could distract you from your tangled thoughts about rafe.

or maybe even check if you even have a notification from him.

she watches you scroll through your phone, her eyes flicking to the slight frown on your face. she doesn't speak right away, just sits there, observing. then, she reaches over, placing her hand gently over your phone and setting it back down on the bed.

“nevermind. you know, you’re gonna drive yourself crazy overthinking like this,” she says softly, shifting to face you more. “sometimes you just gotta rip the band-aid off and stop worrying about what might go wrong. otherwise, you’ll be stuck forever.”

you glance at her, unsure if you want to hear it. but she’s already readjusting her position, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she continues. “god knows i would’ve done things differently with cooper, but you know.”

you lean your head back, letting out a dramatic exhale at the mention of his name—cooper. you’ve heard enough stories to last a lifetime. but you pull your head forward again, looking at her as she reaches over once more, this time placing her hand over yours.

“i just think you should really do it,” she says, her tone more serious now.

you sigh, rubbing your eyes with the arm you’ve been propping yourself up on.

“whatever,” you mumble, shaking off the tension. “let’s go eat dinner. i’m starving.”

after dinner, your friend excuses herself to use the bathroom, leaving you and your mom at the table. your mom finishes up her plate before glancing at you, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “was it good?” she asks.

you don’t say anything, just smile softly and nod. she smiles back, the corners of her eyes crinkling with affection as she gets up to collect the dishes from the table, already moving to tidy up and call it a day.

you stand too, silently helping her by stacking the plates and utensils as she handles putting the leftovers in containers. the clink of dishes and quiet movement fill the space.

when you walk over to the sink, you place the plates inside, fingers lingering on the faucet handle. but you stop. turning around, you fiddle with your hands, the words you've been holding onto threatening to spill out.

your voice is quieter than usual when you finally ask, “how do you know if you love someone?”

your mom pauses in her search for containers, her hand resting on the cabinet door as she looks over at you. she sets down the lid she’s holding and turns, studying your face carefully. “what do you mean?” her tone is soft, open, and it catches you off guard.

you bite the inside of your cheek, unsure of how to phrase it without sounding like some naive girl, like a kid who thinks she’s in love. you lean back against the counter, gripping the edges behind you. “i’m in this situation—literally—with this boy, and—”

your mom cuts in, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “is it rafe?”

you freeze for a second, caught off guard, but the way she says it, almost amused and without judgment, relaxes you. of course she knows. it’s not like you two ever really tried to keep anything a secret. the island knew, your friends knew, but hearing your mom say it so casually makes your lips curl into a sheepish smile. “yeah,” you admit quietly.

your mom crosses her arms, leaning against the counter opposite you, still smiling. “what’s going on?”

you exhale softly, unsure where to even begin. “i don’t know,” you start, “we’re close, obviously. and he’s been . . . we’ve been spending so much time together lately, more than usual. but it’s confusing, you know? like, he doesn’t commit, but then there are these moments, like, i feel like there’s more between us. and i don’t want to ruin what we have, but i also don’t know if what we have is enough anymore.”

your mom watches you carefully, absorbing everything you’re saying. her expression softens as she considers her words. “i remember when i was your age,” she begins, her voice taking on a reflective tone. “i was in a similar situation with your father. we weren’t perfect—far from it—but i knew i loved him. i knew it because i was scared of losing him, but more than that, i was willing to fight for him. and i did.”

you blink at her, surprised. she rarely talks about how she and your dad got together, and when she does, it’s usually brief.

“we had our ups and downs,” she continues. “but in the end, it was worth it because i didn’t give up on what i wanted. and that led me here,” she says, her smile widening as she gestures lightly, “to you.”

you look down, her words settling in. “so you’re saying i should, what? take a chance?”

“i’m saying if you think it’s worth it, if you believe in it, then don’t be afraid to fight for it. but you have to be sure, really sure. because if you’re not, it’ll show. and rafe? he’ll see it.”

your mom moves toward you, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “whatever happens, just remember, you deserve to be happy. don’t settle for anything less.”

you’re still absorbing your mom’s words, turning them over in your head, when she leans slightly, nodding toward the back door. “go,” she says, her tone gentle yet resolute.

you blink, caught completely off guard. “wh— now?” your voice comes out confused, almost a laugh. you glance toward the window, where rain streaks down the glass. “mom, it’s pouring.”

she waves a hand, like the rain is the least of your worries. "i know. go put on a jacket. tell rafe how you feel."

your chest tightens, a swell of uncertainty rising up again, but there’s something in the way she looks at you—something that makes your heart stutter. “mom,” you start, your voice uncertain, but she interrupts, her expression soft but determined.

“listen,” she says, stepping closer, her hands gently shooing you toward the door, “it’s when you get to the end of your life that you realize how important the choices you made at the beginning were. you’re young, y/n. you have your whole life ahead of you to figure things out.” she pauses, her eyes meeting yours. “but you don’t want to look back, wondering what would’ve happened if you’d just taken that chance.”

your breath catches in your throat. you can’t deny that a part of you has been afraid—afraid of what admitting your feelings for rafe might do to your friendship, to the years of closeness you’ve built. but there’s something about the way she says it that strikes deep, a kind of clarity you’ve been avoiding.

“and,” she continues, stepping back just slightly, "even if it doesn’t turn out the way you hope, you both know you’ll always work out as friends. you’ve known that for a long time now.” she smiles then, soft but sure. “so go.”

you stand there, rooted in place, feeling the weight of your indecision lift—just a little. your mom knows. she’s always known. and the more you think about it, the more you realize she’s right. the fear, the hesitation—it doesn’t outweigh what you already know about rafe. about how solid you two are, even in uncertainty.

without another thought, you step forward, pulling her into a tight hug. “thank you,” you murmur into her shoulder, voice muffled but heartfelt. you linger for a second longer, breathing in the familiar scent of home, of comfort. “i owe you for this. and for the dishes next time.”

your mom chuckles as she pulls back. “all you owe me,” she says, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “is handling your friend when she gets back from the bathroom and realizes that you’re not here.”

you grin at that, shaking your head slightly as you turn away. then you rush toward the front door, grabbing a jacket from the table, your fingers fumbling for your car keys. the adrenaline starts kicking in, buzzing beneath your skin, and your heart beats faster—not from fear, but from excitement. clarity.

the rain hits your face as soon as you step outside, cool droplets splashing against your skin, soaking through the jacket almost instantly. but you don’t care. not this time.

you hurry toward the car, slipping behind the wheel, and as the engine roars to life, there’s only one thing on your mind. you’re not running away anymore—you’re going straight to him. straight to rafe, to tell him everything.

your mom is still standing in the kitchen, smiling to herself as she wipes down the counter. your friend emerges from the bathroom, stretching dramatically.

“ugh, i have the biggest food baby right now,” she groans, rubbing her stomach with an exaggerated pout. “like, seriously, i think i might be in my third trimester.”

she stops mid-step, suddenly noticing that you're nowhere to be seen. her gaze flickers around the room, confusion settling on her face. “where’s y/n?”

your mom just smiles, glancing up from the counter with a knowing look.

the rain pounds against your windshield and your fingers grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white, as the tires cut through puddles, water splashing up on either side of the road.

it’s dark outside, the kind of dark that makes the world feel like it’s closing in, and yet you drive, the rain blurring everything except for the weight of what you’re about to do.

you can hardly believe you're doing this—driving to rafe’s house, of all places, on a night like this. it’s pouring. but the rain, the storm, the darkness—they almost feel fitting. like the weather outside mirrors the chaos that’s been brewing inside you for months.

you think about him. about rafe. about the time you’ve spent together—the laughs, the touches, the kisses, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world.

you think about the nights he’s held you close, his breath warm against your neck, and the mornings where he pulls away just a little too soon, leaving you wondering if you imagined it all. it’s like being on a tightrope, balancing between something beautiful and something terrifying.

this thing with him, it’s not really a relationship, is it? it’s more like a maze with no exit, a constant loop of confusion and longing, of wanting more but being afraid to ask for it.

you’ve told yourself a thousand times that you’re okay with it—that whatever this is, it’s enough. but it’s not. and deep down, you’ve always known it’s not.

you’ve spent so long trying to figure it out. is this love? do you love him? or is it just the idea of him? the way he makes the world feel quieter when everything else is so loud, so overwhelming. you’ve wondered if maybe you just needed someone, anyone, to make you feel like you weren’t going through life alone. you’ve questioned if it’s love or if it’s desperation.

but then you remember the way his eyes soften when he looks at you—like he’s seeing past every wall you’ve ever put up. you remember the way his touch feels like it’s grounding you, like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. and it hits you, harder than you’ve ever allowed it to before. you do love him.

you’ve probably never loved anyone as much as you love rafe cameron. and it’s terrifying.

because how do you tell him that? how do you tell someone you love them when you’ve spent months pretending you’re fine without a real answer, pretending that this . . . undefined space you’ve both been living in is enough?

your mind is racing, your heart too, as the road blurs in front of you. the rain is relentless, but you barely notice. all you can think about is him. about how you’ve spent so long holding back, holding yourself in this limbo, waiting for something—anything—to change. but nothing will change unless you make it change.

you’ve waited for him to make the first move, to say something, to define what’s between you, but you’re done waiting. you love him, and whether or not he feels the same, you need him to know. you need to say it out loud. maybe for yourself, more than for him. you can’t keep living in this. you deserve more than that.

the rain is pouring harder now, like the sky is trying to drown the world, but it doesn’t matter. nothing matters except for the fact that you’re almost there. almost at his house. almost at the point of no return.

your heart is in your throat when you pull into his driveway. you sit there for a moment, the engine still running, the rain beating down on your car, and you just breathe.

but then you remember his smile. his laugh. the way he makes you feel like you’re floating and falling all at once. and you know you have to do this. you can’t keep living in the in-between.

you throw your jacket over your head as you step out into the rain, the cold water soaking through your shoes, your pants, everything. it’s freezing, but you barely feel it. you walk up to his front door, your steps heavy, heart even heavier. you knock, once, twice, and then wait.

your heart feels like it’s about to explode. everything you’ve wanted to say, everything you’ve felt—it’s all bubbling up inside you, ready to spill out the second the door opens. you’re nervous, terrified, but ready. so, so ready.

the door creaks open, and there he is. rafe.

he looks at you, rain-soaked and trembling, and it’s like something clicks in his eyes. like he knows exactly why you’re here. like he’s been waiting for this moment, too.

you smile, a soft, trembling smile, your heart in your throat. “hey.”

he stands there, staring at you with that familiar look, the one that’s always made you feel like maybe—just maybe—he’s been feeling the same way all along. and then he smiles back, a small, understanding smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“hey.”

[kamiversee]

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

1 | Something about you

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | flirting, language, suggestiveness, fluff, & faint sexual tension.

❧ Word Count | 7.1k (we're starting off strong it seems...)

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Congratulations, you’ve nearly escaped hell— not-so-happily entering your final year of university as time stands currently. And y’know what, you think you’ve coasted through most of your college years drama-free. Well, aside from freshman year you suppose, everyone fucks up around that time…

But that’s a tale for another day, right now, you’re finding yourself waltzing into an entirely different plotline— with your head held high as you waltz toward a newfound cafe that you haven’t had the pleasure of finding for the past four years. Up until today, you’ve just barely been stomaching dining hall caffeine. Which, to say the least, isn’t nearly as savory or energizing as coffee from your local cafe. 

Four years you’ve been going to this school and yet here you were walking right into an establishment you swear simply spawned out of nowhere because you pass this street all the damn time and you don’t remember this place being here a week ago. Yet, when you enter the cafe and spot a sign that says they’ve been there for the past three years, you begin to realize that maybe you should start going out a bit more…

Nonetheless, you mentally claimed that if the coffee here was bad, you’d walk right out and return to never acknowledging the place. But hey, when you do push past those double doors, fingers wrapped around a warm metal handle, a waft of smoky coffee aromas simmering into your nose, and spot a rather attractive cashier first thing, you’re quick to tell yourself that maybe shitty coffee might be worth a few things.

Especially seeing as six staggering feet of height, fluffy bright white locks of hair, and the most dazzling set of blue eyes take notice of your entering seconds after you’ve stepped inside— how could you not tell yourself that terrible coffee may be worth digesting so long as you get to drink in this tall, fine man whose name you note as Gojo as you near him and read the tag on his apron.

“Suguru, it seems the gods have finally answered my prayers,” Gojo yells back to someone you can’t quite see yet. His eyes were all over you, drinking you in just as you were him. The tall man receives a laugh from somewhere further behind him before he redirects his words to you, “To what do I have the pleasure of serving you today, sweetheart?”

Your lips parted as you approached the counter fully, your eyes lingering on his far longer than they should’ve. “Uh,” And you were making a fool out of yourself already, great, “It’s my first time here, so I’m not too sure…” Okay, that’s a decent enough save considering how your words earn a half smile from the man in front of you who tilts his head and eyes you down.

And fuck if he wasn’t every bit of intimidating looking down at you like that. He places a single hand onto the counter space in front of him, leaning forward just a bit before turning his head back to take a glance at the menu hanging up, as if he didn’t have it memorized already, “Well, for first-timers I usually recommend anything but our coffee.”

You bat your lashes at the man for a moment as he returns his attention to you, “Seriously? That’s the one thing I came in here for…”

“Ah, well,” Gojo clicks his tongue and shrugs a bit, leaning toward you just to whisper, “Y’gotta come here when I’m in the back.”

You lean forward, intrigued by his words, “…Why?”

“Cause’ Suguru doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing,” Gojo chuckles a bit and you reciprocate before pushing your brows together questioningly. “Suguru, my best fr-, my coworker.” He clarifies quickly.

“Ohh,” You nod, “So should I come back another time, or…?”

“Nono, you caught me a few minutes before rush hour,” Gojo says rather cheerfully before he leans away from you and flashes a smile, “I can run back there ‘nd make ya’ somethin’ since we’re not too busy?”

At that, you take a moment to glance around the cafe interior, spotting one, maybe two people sitting on their laptops and languidly sipping or munching away at their breakfast. You’re glad you came in when you did.

Not only did you get the chance to talk to Gojo, who you turn back to seconds later with a nod, but you also got the chance to get not-so-shitty coffee according to the man. “Yeah, actually. That’d be nice,” You hum to him.

Gojo dramatically moves to stretch his arms, clasping his hands together before extending them out with a heavy sigh, as if he were preparing to do such a difficult task. “Alrighty then, is there any specific kinda coffee you’re lookin’ for?”

“Still my first time here, Gojo. So, no…” The way you say his name so suddenly has him wondering if you knew him from somewhere. But, you quickly smile a little and nod your chin to his name tag, to which he looks down and laughs at himself. “Surprise me,” You then say moments later.

“Surprise you?” Gojo echoes.

You shrug sheepishly, “If that’s not too much work for you-“

“No, I don’t mind. I can surprise ya’,” His smile at you deepens and you catch the slightest dip in his cheeks as the most enamoring set of dimples pops out to your gaze. “Buuut, before I do… Do you have any allergies or dislikes I should be wary of?”

You hum, “Uh, no I don’t think so? I’m feeling rather open-minded today so, just bring me something good enough to have me returning for more.”

“Yeah? I mean, I’m sure you’ll come back for somethin’ else aside from jus’ coffee,” Gojo laughs to himself at his own comment and your eyes simply widen, a cute lil’ tilt of your head catching his attention.

You chuckle nervously, “What else would I come back for if not coffee?”

He shrugs before slowly turning away, “Oh, I dunno… Perhaps a certain handsome cashier that’s caught your eye?”

Oh, you see where he’s going with this. It may have been a while but, you know what flirting looks like. “Is this handsome cashier in the room with us, or…?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the way Gojo freezes and he sends you this look that you have to try your hardest not to laugh at.

He nearly pouts, “W-Well, yeah, obviously. You’re lookin’ at him.”

Your brows lift, “Am I?”

Gojo narrows those pretty blue eyes of his at you, “Do you not find me handsome?”

“Say I didn’t,” You murmur tauntingly, “Wouldn’t you be really embarrassed?”

The corner of his lips twitch before he scoffs playfully, “What are you, some kinda masochist?”

You giggle, “No, but seein’ that pout on your face was kinda cute.”

“Pout?” Gojo gasps dramatically, “Hah, what pout?” He scoffs again before straightening his face and attempting to be serious with you, “I didn’t pout-“

“You totally did,” You cut off, peering right into those mesmerizing eyes of his— damn, it was almost like you couldn’t get yourself to look away.

“I did not,” Gojo corrects your statement, lower lip poking out once more into a pout.

You shrug and finally get yourself to glance off to the side, “It was cute.”

He instantly tilts his head at that, ears perking up, “Y’think I’m cute?”

“I do.” You hum simply with your eyes wandering right back over to his face.

There’s this little moment between the two of you, a spark if you will, where you both just meet one another’s eyes and admire each other. Is this what mutual attraction feels like?

Perhaps if you squinted, you would’ve noticed the faintest shade of pink decorating his cheeks, “I-,” Gojo swallows suddenly, “Why thank you, sweetheart,” He utters suavely, as if to save himself from embarrassment. After which, he clears his throat, “That aside, we’ve got about six minutes before people start rushin’ in here ‘nd it’ll take two for me to prepare that coffee of yours so, do you mind givin’ me a name?”

You blink, “A name…?”

“Your name,” Gojo clarifies.

“Oh! Sorry,” You’re quick to apologize for your moment of daze, giving him your name seconds later to make up for it.

He starts to smile again, “That’s your name?”

“Yes?” You utter almost confusedly. Was there something wrong-

“It’s pretty,” Gojo interrupts your thoughts completely and your eyes go all wide all over again, a small feature in which he finds absolutely adorable.

“T-Thank you,” You stammer out, turning away to now avoid the eye contact you once couldn’t tear yourself away from.

“Uhuh,” His eyes scan you up and down once more before he sighs, “I’ll be back in a sec’, sweets,” Gojo says finally.

God, you think the nickname he threw out has your heart racing because it made your face so utterly hot. Almost as if you don’t hear nicknames like that on a daily basis…

Aside from that, you gave Gojo one last nod before looking back over your shoulder to see if anyone was coming yet. He’d told you that there was only a few minutes until rush hour so you were a bit wary that people would appear out of nowhere in the next-

“So you’re the girl that’s got Satoru all giggly, huh?” A voice purrs from somewhere in front of you.

Quickly, you return your gaze forward and spot a man, equally as tall as Gojo, with long dark hair, slim eyes, and a really pretty face— holy shit, how many hot guys work here??

“Uh,” You’re stuttering again, tipping your head to the side, “…Satoru?” You repeat, confused by the person he’s referring to.

The man chuckles, “Gojo,” He tells you, “Satoru Gojo,” You nod at the clarification and he grins warmly.

“Oh, then yeah I guess so,” You shrug sheepishly before flashing a smile, “So then that means you must be Suguru-“

“Geto,” He’s so quick to correct you that you almost immediately shut up, swallowing down your words as if you’d said something wrong. “Sorry, I assume Satoru told you my first name?”

You steadily nod, avoiding eye contact with him out of embarrassment, “He did…”

“As expected,” Geto hums before letting out a long sigh, “Just call me by me last, I don’t know you too well so I’m sure you understand.”

You hum, “Right, sorry.”

It’s a tad bit awkward for the next few seconds after that mild conversation but when you hear Gojo yelling from somewhere in the back, the awkwardness quickly subsides.

You even spot Gojo popping his head out from around the corner just to speak to his coworker, “Suguru don’t scare her off jus’ cause you have a girlfriend-“

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Geto interrupts, sharp with his correction as he glances back over his shoulder.

Gojo snorts, “Fine then, girl who’s a friend that you like-“

“I don't-,” A sigh leaves Geto’s lips before he’s moving to pinch the bridge of his nose, groaning afterward, “Just hurry up with the damn coffee before people start comin’ in.”

Your eyes somehow find Gojo’s and you watch him mouth out something to you, “He’s grouchy because his girlfriend’s ignorin’ him-“

“Satoru,” Geto says scoldingly, causing Gojo to flinch dramatically.

Then you see the white-haired man laugh before winking at you and dipping back around the corner. After which, you don’t even realize you’re smiling until you meet Geto’s gaze and feel your expression drop at the glare he’s giving you.

“What?” You murmur warrily, raising a brow at his plain look.

Geto tilts his head and studies your face for a mere moment, “You new around here or somethin’?”

“New to this cafe, yeah,” You explain, “Why?”

He shrugs, “I’ve learned most of our customer’s faces and majority of them live around the area but I’ve never seen you before.”

“I live not too far from campus but I wasn’t aware this cafe was here until today…” You explain steadily, earning somewhat of an intrigued expression from the man.

“Damn, really?”

You nod, “Mhm.”

“So, wait,” Geto scoffs a little at the thought, “Don’t tell me you’ve been stomaching dining hall caffeine all this time.”

You chuckle and glance off to the side, “Well…”

“If you live near campus, how the hell are you just now finding us??” Geto questions, he seems genuinely confused by your cluelessness.

Your shoulders lift into a shrug, “I don’t go out much.”

“Maybe you should,” He tells you.

A thin lipped smile tugs at your lips, “Starting to realize that now, thanks.”

The man opens his mouth to say something but he’s cut off by Gojo returning from the back and placing a hand on his shoulder, to which Geto glances down at.

“Alrighty Suguru, thanks for not scaring the pretty lady away!” Gojo says cheerfully as he pushes past his friend and makes eye contact with you.

Geto’s brows push together, “You’re welcome? I don’t know how I would’ve scared her, I-“

Gojo unintentionally cuts him off with a laugh, “You’ve been kinda grouchy towards women ever since you met-“

“Fuck off,” He grumbles, brushing off Gojo’s hand on his shoulder and turning to make his way to the back once more.

“See what I mean?” Gojo hums to himself.

Then Geto laughs, “You’re not a woman are you?”

“Suguruuu,” Gojo whines, turning his head back to his friend who’s already disappeared from his line of vision. Then, Gojo sighs and looks to you again, “Ah whatever, ignore him, he sucks sometimes.”

You grin, “You guys are best friends, aren’t you?”

The way Gojo tilts his head almost innocently is kinda cute, “How can you tell?”

“Mine acts similarly,” You explain, thinking of your best friend who’s not the nicest person in the world.

“Yeah?” Gojo hums, “An asshole once they get into a relationship?”

“I’m not in a relationship, Satoru!” Geto calls out from the back.

You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes at his friend's refutation of his claims. Looking somewhat off to the side, your thoughts wander more so toward your best friend, “Well, no, he’s kinda just an asshole all around.”

“Really? Why’re you his best friend then?” You’ve always found this question funny considering most people are confused about how you and your best friend are even friends when most times you two don’t get along.

Instead of really answering Gojo’s question, you look up at him and smile, “I could ask you the same thing, no?”

His brows furrow and he scoffs, “What? No, Suguru’s just grouchy today, I promise he’s usually better than that.”

You nod, “I see…”

“Anyway,” Gojo extends his hand out to you, “Here, give this a try,” He offers, handing a decently sized cold drink to you.

You receive the item and look down at it, “You’re not trying to poison me right?”

Gojo laughs, “Aaand why ever would I do that?”

The cup is steadily lifted to your lips as you lift your eyes to him once more, “I dunno, men are weird.”

“That they are,” He chuckles, “But no, that’d be illegal and I have no intentions of harming you.”

Again, you just nod at that and then take that first sip of the surprise drink he’d given you. A strong taste of vanilla and a nearly overwhelming amount of coffee creamer hits your tastebuds. You smile but you’re a bit taken back by how sweet it is. One, it’s way better than any cup of coffee you’ve ever had from the dining hall and two, it’s a lot sweeter than you were expecting.

“Holy fuck, how much sugar did you put in this thing?” You utter in surprise as you move the cup away from your mouth and glance at it as if that’ll give you the answer to your question.

Gojo lets out a laugh, “You said to surprise you.”

“Yeah but this is sweet as hell,” You tell him, your eyes raking over the cup in your hand.

“Sweet drink for a sweet girl, I don’t see a problem,” He responds with a little lean toward you.

“Right and-,” You scoff, eyes narrowing at the very lousy print of your name on the cup, “Who’s…” You almost laugh, “Christ, your handwriting is shit.”

Gojo lets out a huff, “Okay, first off, my handwriting is not that bad. And secondly-”

You’re quick to turn the cup to him and lift it, “Look at it!”

“Oh.” He squints his eyes at it, “Shit, that is kinda bad…” Gojo mumbles with an amused little smile on his face.

“Yeah, I can’t even read this…” You laugh, returning the cup to yourself, “But that’s okay, I appreciate the effort,” His smile grows at your comforting words as you then look up at him once more, “How much?”

“Since my handwriting’s so shit,” He starts, tilting his head at you and shrugging, “Consider it on the house.”

Your eyes seem to light up, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Gojo hums.

“Aw, thank you,” Who would you be to ever pass up something free? Especially given by this cheeky cashier before you.

“Anytime-”

Geto’s voice intrudes from the back, “Satoru I thought I told you to change these filters? And why’d you leave such a big mess, holy shit.”

Gojo yells back to his coworker, slightly looking over his shoulder, “The mess isn’t that bad is it?”

You snort, “If it’s anything like your handwriting then uh…”

“Alright,” Gojo’s quick to look at you once more, “You just got a free drink out of me so I don’t wanna hear anything from you.”

“Satoru, these filters aren’t gonna change themselves,” Geto nags further.

You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes and yells back to his friend yet again, “You’re literally back there already, change them yourself.”

“Nope, it’s your turn,” Geto argues.

Gojo frowns, “But-”

“The girl’s not goin’ anywhere anytime soon,” At that, you blink in surprise. How does he know you’re not ready to leave just yet? “Get your ass back here,” Geto orders.

Gojo turns his head and looks at you almost pleadingly.

You giggle, “What? Sounds like you’ve got some filters to change, Gojo…”

“Y’know what,” He scoffs and nods his chin to the cup in your hand, “$5.45.”

Your head cocks back a little and your brows go up, “I’m sorry?”

“The drink,” Gojo hums simply, looking back to make sure Geto wasn’t on his way out to scold him some more just yet, “Since you wanna take his side over mine…”

The way you frown misses Gojo’s eyes up until he turns to look at you one last time, his eyes going wide as you try to defend yourself, “I wasn’t-”

“S’fine, I got it,” An entirely different voice grumbles from your right, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. So close to you, an arm slips right past your face and you watch as an all too familiar man extends a card out to Gojo.

Your lashes bat a few times as an annoyingly familiar scent of cologne rushes into your nose. You’d literally just escaped said smell a few hours ago after leaving your apartment and yet here it was all over again, directly in your nose and you met the side profile of your best friend, “Choso?” You utter.

Whatever light and fluffy banter that was in the air seconds ago seems to die at the mere presence of Choso standing so closely beside you. Ignoring you, he urges Gojo to take his card and Gojo soon does so with a scoff— he was going to keep flirting and teasing you but here comes this all-too-serious-looking man taking your vacant side as if it were second nature.

The smile Gojo once had on his face simmered down and his expression became a lot more neutral as he quietly moved to charge Choso’s card.

After which, your best friend finally looks down at you, his eyes pointed in a glare that would make anyone feel unloved despite you knowing he feels quite the opposite (to some extent at least), “Don’t you have class in an hour?” Choso asks you in a dull monotone.

Your face scrunches up slightly before you shrug, “I was thirsty…”

Choso stares at you for a long moment, glances at Gojo, then back to you with a scoff, “Yeah, clearly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean-,” You’re cut off by Choso taking his eyes off of you and receiving his card back from Gojo, the two men making eye contact once more and both looking as if the other had done something to offend them. Your best friend openly scoffs in Gojo’s face before pocketing his card and turning away, quickly walking out of the establishment.

Your eyes go wide, “Choso, wait!” You call out as your eyes followed him walking away from you. Only to be ignored again, you let out a huff and start to walk after him but turn back to Gojo one last time, “Sorry about him.”

Gojo’s expression seems to light back up a bit and he shrugs, “You’re fine.”

You nod and start turning away before remembering something and looking at Gojo yet again, slightly pointing at him, “You owe me a free drink by the way,” You remind him playfully.

His face is twisting right back up into that intrigued expression from earlier, “Do I now? And what for?”

“Your shitty handwriting of course,” You hum.

"Hm," He takes a second to think before letting out a slight huff. You then feel and watch the way his eyes glide up and down your body before he responds to you, "Alright."

And with that, both of you smile at one another one last time before you go running off to catch up with Choso. Gojo watches you almost in some kinda trance as you leave, spotting more customers approaching but ignoring them for the most part as his gaze remains glued to you until you’re completely out of his line of vision.

Then, he lets out this breathy little sigh, “Fuck…” Moving to wipe his face off as if that’ll rid himself of whatever the hell he’s feeling after talking to you. 

He didn’t even get to ask you for your number like he wanted to…

With perfect timing, “Satoru, the-”

“Filters, yeah yeah, I got it,” Gojo cuts Geto off completely, turning around to see his friend emerging from the back as they both swap places due to the approaching rush hour.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Outside, you were met with a slap of heat as soon as you exited the cafe, your eyes searching the area for Choso. A slight breeze of refreshing wind brushes over your skin as you finally spot the man having not gotten too far away.

Barely managing to catch up to him, you nudge Choso on his arm as soon as you meet his side, “Why’d you pay for my drink? I could’ve done that myself.”

Just as he did earlier inside the cafe, he acts as though you’re not even there, keeping his gaze forward and pretending he didn’t hear a single thing you just said.

“Choso? Hello??” You huff out, nudging him on his arm again.

His lip twitches into a scowl and he just barely side-eyes you, “What?”

You ignore all of his attitude, as you typically do, “Why’d you pay?”

“You’re a walking charity case,” Choso hums all too casually.

Your head goes back and you scoff, “I-, what? No, I’m not!” Then the back of your hand is landing on his arm as you hit him and he almost smiles.

Finding amusement in your reaction, he shrugs, “Yeah you are,” And before you can even try to get a response out, the cup of coffee in your hand is stripped from your grasp faster than you could blink. Choso removes the top and takes a sip, “Ew, you like this shit?” He scowls, placing the top right back on and handing you your drink back.

You blink, struggling to process a logical reasoning behind his action, “First off, no one told your ass to take a sip. And secondly-”

“I wanted to know what you got,” Choso cuts off, glancing at you to watch how quickly you get annoyed by him.

You groan, “You could’ve asked if that was the case.” He shrugs your words off and you roll your eyes at him, “And how the hell did you know I was in there anyway?”

“I didn’t,” Choso tells you, “I always go in there but today I happened to see your short ass at the counter when I walked in.”

You’re quick to shoot him a glare, “Stop that, I’m not short.”

He’s got this arrogant little grin on his face, “Look short t’me.”

“That’s because you’re taller than me, which doesn’t make you tall in general nor does it make me short.” You explain to the man simply with your eyes shooting daggers into the side of his face.

Choso continues to act as though you’re not even looking at him, “Being shorter than me makes you short-”

“And y’know what,” You cut off, tearing your eyes off of your overly bothersome friend, “You’re annoying.”

He cocks his head back, “Annoying? I’m annoying?” Finally, he looks at you, now searching the side of your face for answers.

“Yeah, very.” You hum.

Choso scoffs and then sizes you up and down, “Says the one who was gawkin’ over Gojo Satoru of all people.”

You nearly laugh, “Fucks’ that supposed to mean? How would that make me annoying?”

“He’s a weirdo,” Choso shrugs, pocketing his hands as he faces forward once more, “I can’t understand what you could possibly find attractive about him.”

You blink and both of you slow down in the pace of your steps, “I talked to him for less than ten minutes, how was I supposed to know he’s weird. And wait-, how does me finding him attractive even annoy you?”

Your best friend sighs and his words come out all too casually for them to be so offensive, “Cause when he breaks your heart,” Choso looks at you, “You’ll come bitchin’ to me about it.”

At that, you freeze, quickly turning to meet his gaze, “Who says he’ll break my heart? And bitching? Is that what you call me talking to you about my relationship issues?? Bitching? Seriously?” With your eyes narrowed and brows tightly knit together, Choso should’ve sensed that he struck a nerve there.

Yet, he seems to not care in the slightest, blinking as if he’d said nothing wrong, “Fuck else am I supposed to call it? I warn you about every guy you date but you don’t ever listen to me.”

Your face twists up, “That doesn’t make my complaints ‘bitching’…”

“Well, it makes it fucking annoying,” He hums before pulling his lips into a thin smile— mocking you through facial expressions.

Your brows go up, “Really? Okay then, sorry for ever confiding in you,” You set your eyes straight once more, “I’ll just go find someone else to-”

“You know no one else is gonna put up with your shit the same way I do,” He’s so quick to dismiss your little statement, almost as if the implication of you ever leaving him, in a sense, bothered him.

You scoff matter-of-factly, “That���s not true.”

“It literally is though,” Choso deadpans, “You have one friend and that’s me. Who the hell else are you gonna go rant to, hm?”

“Someone that doesn’t call my rants bitching.” You huff, crossing your arms over one another.

Choso scales his eyes down to your arms and he smiles, “Are you seriously mad about that?”

“Maybe,” You shrug.

His feet come to a stop and you follow suit, turning to avoid his eyes as much as possible. Choso stares at you for a moment before leaning toward you, tilting his head and angling his lips toward your ear.

All of which done so he could whisper to you, “M’sorry, princess,” Choso murmurs to you affectionately, “Y’know I didn’t mean that seriously, I’m jus’ fuckin’ with you.”

You remain unphased for a mere moment more before the constant brush of his breath against your skin makes you shudder, your hands moving to his chest to push him away, “Yeah, whatever… And stop calling me that.”

Choso blinks, feeling confused since you act as if he hadn’t been calling you such a thing for years, “Why?”

“Cause I don’t like it…” You so clearly lie— not that you enjoyed the nickname but more so that you’ve always felt indifferent to it. Or, almost always.

He smirks, “Your face is telling me an entirely different story.”

“Yeah?” You chuckle, moving to shoot your middle finger at him, “And what story does this tell you?’

Choso stares into your eyes for a long period of time before looking to your finger, smiling fully and tilting his head again, “…You wanna fuck me?”

Immediately putting your finger down, your brows tense, “What? No!” You exclaim, groaning as you return to your walking, “God, I cannot stand you.”

He laughs and follows right alongside you, “You’re so easy to annoy, holy shit.”

“And you’re insufferable,” You huff.

Choso shrugs simply, “You love me though.”

You glance at him, “Debatable.”

He pouts and pretends to clutch his heart, “Ouch-”

“Anyway,” Returning your attention to someone much less annoying than the man beside you, you nod your head back toward the cafe, “Do you know if he’s single?”

Choso nearly trips over his steps at the sound of that, letting out a cough, “Who-, Gojo??”

You nod, “Mhm.”

“Why?” Choso’s lips twitch, “You lookin’ to get rejected?”

Pausing, you look to him with a quirked brow, “Excuse me? What makes you think I’ll get rejected?”

“You’re uh…” He trails off a little, eyes lingering down your frame before he smiles and speaks to you in this faux gentle whisper, “Not his type, sweetie.”

Your eyes roll at that, “Okay, first of all, fuck you. Secondly, how do you know?”

“Uh, I’ve seen the kinda girls he’s into so trust me when I say…” Choso’s eyes shift to peer directly into yours, “It ain’t you.”

You stare back for a moment before shaking your head and looking off, “Whatever, you’re just saying that.”

“Yeah because I’m gonna lie to you about something like that,” He snickers to himself before rolling his eyes. Within seconds, he goes to look at you again only to see you heading in a different direction, “Hey! Where’re you goin’?”

“Away from you!” You call back.

He laughs yet again, “What, you can’t handle the truth now?”

Glancing back to him, “I’m gonna prove you wrong asshole.”

Choso flashes you a shit-eating grin as if he’s already begun praying on your downfall, “Sure you will.”

He then watches as you further away from him, his smile steadily fading as he catches himself a bit too happy at the sight of you so determined. Choso shrugs off whatever feeling the topic of Gojo Satoru had brought up within him, dismissing the entire thing as he truly believed you’d never really get yourself too involved with that guy.

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t see the way you were taking to Gojo before he walked in so, Choso had no idea of how things were about to play out within the next few hours.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

As such, after that morning class of yours that extended decently into the afternoon, you found yourself rushing back to the cafe as soon as you could.

You knew not of Gojo’s working hours so you had no clue whether or not he’d still be there but you sure as hell hoped so. Choso had really ticked you off with his claims.

You not being Gojo’s type? Yeah right, he didn’t see the way that cashier was looking at you, nor did he hear all the banter that took place. Given that, you were determined to prove your dear friend wrong and yourself right. You know flirting when you see it and that’s exactly what Gojo was doing.

So to say he wasn’t at least intrigued by you would be a blatant lie you had every hope on exposing to Choso.

When you finally find yourself entering that lovely little cafe, it’s a lot more busy in comparison to earlier— something you take note of for your possible future visits. The line wasn’t exactly too long but quite a few people were hanging out or studying throughout the establishment.

That aside, your eyes were quick to search for a certain white-haired barista, gaze lighting up the very second it meets the man it questions. 

Gojo had a weary smile on his face as he handed some girl a coffee and you could tell based on his eyes alone that he was tired of the chick rambling to him. He nodded and nodded, trying to keep himself appearing entertained by whatever she was saying but when he glances over and spots you, all his attention is diverted.

Those pretty blue eyes of his fixate on you and you watch as he finally dismisses the girl, nodding toward you as if to say he had another customer to tend to. She shrugs and finally leaves, to which you take place in standing where she’d been seconds ago, sending a smile to Gojo.

“Long day?” You suggest with a slight tilt of your head, to which he nods.

“You have no idea,” Gojo sighs out to you, “You’re back sooner than I expected though.”

He didn’t know what it was about you, perhaps the way you gaze at him, but there was something that kept his eyes lingering on yours far longer than normal— something that genuinely lulled him in. Perhaps it was the natural flow of conversation and how even from earlier, you didn’t really feel like a mere customer but instead just a person, a woman at that-, a very pretty woman, might he add.

“You owe me a free drink, remember?” You remind him, earning a different reaction than expected.

Gojo pauses, “Ohh… About that…” He hums, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah see, that offer no longer stands…”

You blink, “I’m not sure I understand…”

He lets out a sigh, then moves to lean forward against the counter, bending down and crossing his arms as he rests on his elbows and comes much closer to your eye level, “Another cute girl came in ‘nd got it before you,” Gojo whispers.

You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not and your brows pinch together, “Seriously?”

“Mmhmm,” He hums tauntingly with this smug look on his face as if to say giving away your promised drink was to get back at you for something.

“Well,” You click your tongue, “I think you owe me a free drink now more than before, maybe two.”

Gojo smiles, feeling amused, “Yeah? I mean, my number’s free. Y’want that instead?”

Your voice gets caught in your throat at how ridiculously smooth that was, trying your hardest not to give in and return a smile. “I… What am I supposed to do with that?” You end up asking.

He snickers, “Perhaps text me? Or call? Y’know, the thing you do with phones-“

“Alright smart ass,” You scoff playfully, grinning as you move to pull out your phone, “What’s your number then?”

Gojo smiles triumphantly and extends his hand out, “Here, lemme put it in for ya’.”

You glance at him, eyes meeting and yet another moment passing before you hand him your phone, to which he takes a second to look down at the device in his hands. Then, he enters his number and a contact name for himself.

After which, your cell is quickly returned to you and you look to see what he’s put in. Studying the name closely, you tilt your head, “Satoru?”

“Mhm, tha’s me, sweetheart,” He purrs, moving to rest his cheek against his knuckles.

You look up from your phone, “You want me to call you Satoru?”

Gojo shrugs, “If you don’t mind, yeah.”

“We’re on a first-name basis already?” You tease, eyes narrowing at the man.

“It seems we are,” He utters. His voice was a bit lower with you now, much more casual and playful. “That alright with you, pretty girl?”

Unknowingly, your face flushes, “Yeah, that’s uh, that’s fine.”

Gojo lets out a hum, “Good.” Then, the two of you do that thing yet again, peering into one another's eyes, unmoving, nearly frozen and dazed for a moment longer than intended before Gojo snaps out of it by almost awkwardly clearing his throat, “So uh, you still want that free drink or…?”

You blink out of your own stupor and shake your head, “No, I’ll come back for it tomorrow.”

“Oh?” His brows shoot up in surprise, “You’re coming back tomorrow?”

“It seems I am, yes,” A smile graces your face and he can’t help but stare.

Gojo mirrors your expression, “Just for coffee?”

Your eyes wander off to the side cheekily, “Perhaps for a certain handsome cashier too…”

He thinks his heart is fluttering. Is this normal? To experience such a genuine infatuation with a woman’s words within less than twenty-four hours? It was unusual for Gojo, that’s for damn sure. Hence why his head is tipping to the side, “Really? Have my charms worked so soon?” He teases.

You return your gaze to him, “Just a little, yeah.”

Mesmerized by you, Gojo nods, “Good to know.”

“Mhm,” After a slight hum, you glance down at your phone and check the time, “Well uh, I actually have another class so I should probably go.”

“Yes… Yes, you should,” He voices out slowly, again entangled into that daze of his until you lift your head once more, “But uh, make sure you text me later, yeah?” Gojo reminds you.

To which you chuckle and start turning away toward the exit, “No promises.”

He’s left in a mere awe of you, not even knowing what to say, and left utterly speechless from such an intriguing yet simple conversation with you. As you wave bye, Gojo had to feel for his heart the very second you leave just to see if it was working correctly because he’s not sure what the hell that was just now.

Whatever it may have been, he knows it was much more genuine and raw than what he’s typically used to. And it came so naturally too, the banter, the gazes, the flirting… Gojo was longing for more already and he’d only just met you a few hours ago.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

All the while you’re just as cheerful at the interaction you just had, beyond ready to brag to your doubtful best friend of your most recent accomplishments.

Which is exactly why you’re facetiming said friend as soon as you leave the cafe. The call rings for less than a second before it’s answered and you’re met with a visibly displayed and… shirtless Choso.

Before you get the chance to even try and take in his naked torso, he’s already scowling at you, “The fuck are you facetiming me for?” He grumbles, taking the smile right off of your lips, “I’ve seen your face enough for one day. Why don’t you ever call like a normal person??”

You bat your eyelashes at the man, “Cho, we just got on the phone and you’re already souring the mood…”

He ignores your complaint, “What do you want?”

Steadily, your smile returns, “Guess who got a certain someone’s number,” You utter cheerfully, voice light in a little sing-song tone.

Choso gives his phone a blank stare, not saying a single word in response to that.

Which confused you, “Well? Are you gonna guess-“

“You could’ve texted me this shit,” He cuts off before you watch as your screen is soon met with the ceiling as he places his phone down.

You pout, “Well, yeah but then I wouldn’t have been able to see your reaction…”

He scoffs and pops his face into the camera for a second, eyes dull, smile nonexistent, eye bags heavy, and tattoo running across his nose the only thing giving some form of expression despite it being nothing more than a dark black line. “Does it look like I give two shits about you gettin’ some asshole’s number?”

You let out a long sigh, “Remind me why we’re friends again?”

And that’s when Choso seems to smirk, “Cause’ you won’t leave me alone.”

“I’m hanging up,” You groan.

His laughter, albeit somewhat of a rare sound, fills your ears, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

You send him a look, “Are you?”

“Mhm, good job on gettin’ his number, princess,” Choso coos, making your eyes widen, “I’m proud of you.”

Your mouth opens to say something to that but your throat runs oddly dry. Instead, you gulp down his sudden praise and ignore how warm his words make you feel. “…Thank you.” You eventually say.

“Uhuh,” Choso nods before removing himself from the camera again, “Pretty sure he’s just trying to fuck though.” He says bluntly.

Instead of choking like he expected you to, you only scoff, “Fine by me.”

Your best friend is quiet for a moment, feeling almost silenced before he sighs, “Oh… But you told me no-“

“That was entirely different, Choso.” You cut off.

He shuts up again.

“You were drunk, and…” Your voice dies out.

To which he raises a brow at his phone, “And what?”

“And things were different back then,” You sigh, trying not to recall the entirety of your past with Choso at the present moment, “…You were an even bigger asshole, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Choso sighs, moving to dismiss the topic, “Anyway, let me know how things go with your new albino boyfriend.”

You scoff, smiling at the suggestion itself, “He’s not even my-“ 

The call disconnects. Oh how you just love your best friend and his antics. You wouldn’t trade your friendship with him for anything.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself anyway. What exactly does a new man in your life bring if not drama? This right here was but the beginning of a very interesting journey toward such a fickle emotion we know as; love.

mlist | next chapter |

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[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - Dreemurr of Jokes

1 | 2 | 3

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

Toriel stops by Sans' shop for some goods, and for some more cheery distractions! Unfortunately, all this time later, it's still too difficult to escape reminders of what's been done.

It was fun finally getting to do some stuff with Sans in this universe! The last part for this trio of scenes will be up sometime next week!

Alt text for these pages is under the read more:

Page 1 Panel 1: Interior shot of a small store, with displays of goods, loose plywood, sacks of things. Two circular woven hangings bracket the door through which Toriel enters, a heavyset woman in a polka-dotted dress with a basket over her arm. Sans watches her enter, though we see only the back of his head. 

Panel 2: Toriel enters the shop and we see more displays, mostly food. There are large potted trees as well, and the shop’s counter, draped in patterned cloth and decorated with candles. Toriel: “Well, hello again. I was wondering if you had-” Sans, a jovial, bearded man dressed in loose robes and always smiling, waves a hand and cuts her off. “Hold on, you hear that?”

Panel 3: “...Hear what?” Toriel asks, nonplussed. Up close, her face is soft but distressed.

Panel 4: Sans leans over his slightly messy counter, still grinning. “I HERB that you needed some more cinnamon cloves, and look what I have here!” He offers a handful of herbs. Up close, the cuffs on his robe sleeves are patterned with little bones.  

Panel 5: “Just what I needed! How did you guess?” Toriel exclaims, reaching out with a real smile to accept the herbs. She and Sans are framed by other mysterious shop wares- jars of things, open sacks, rolled-up mats. Things you might find in an open-air desert market. 

Page 2 Panel 1: Sans: “Was just thinking it’d been awhile since I saw you making the neighborhood rounds with some of those pies of yours… Figured you were planning to start this month’s soon!” Sans gestures up at Toriel in explanation. 

Panel 2: Toriel smirks, setting down a handful of coins.  “And perhaps hoping that I would stop by your place first with them?” Sans: “I pride myself on my forward thinking, y’know.” His grin is conspiratorial as he leans towards her and he taps his temple with one finger. 

Panel 3: Toriel, eyes sad despite her smile: “All right. How about this: Tell me a good joke, and you have my word you will have the first and freshest one.”

Panel 4: Sans: “Just a good joke?” He raises an eyebrow. 

Panel 5: Toriel clutches her chest- we don’t see her eyes. “I find myself in desperate need of levity these days.” 

Panel 6: Sans waves his hand as if to keep her from feeling like she need say more, scratching his chin in thought with the other.  “Sure, I got one…” 

Page 3 Panel 1: Sans, with the smug grin of someone about to tell a terrible pun: “Why was the empire soldier happy to get demoted to horse groomer?” Toriel, with her hand on her chin in thought: “I do not know, why?” 

Panel 2: Sans shrugs widely like the answer is obvious. “Because he finally had STABLE employment!” 

Panel 3: Toriel laughs in genuine delight, although maybe a little harder than expected. 

Panel 4: Toriel: “Thank you, I needed that.” She smiles a relieved little smile. Sans: “No problem. So hey, aside from the pie… Can I maybe get an invite to those little get-togethers I see some folks around here doing once a month?” He steeples his fingertips together. 

Panel 5: San’s dialogue continues: “I’m so curious as to what goes on then!” We only see Toriel, though, shocked and dismayed. She’s thinking of the Ritual gatherings- townspeople gathered in their robes and animal masks- reindeer, fish, but most centrally, the goat masks she and Asgore wear. 

Panel 6: Toriel: “Unless you are completely enraptured by tedious talk of planting schedules and building repairs, I believe I can sate your curiosity by saying you would find them quite boring.” She waves a hand in front of her, dismissing the thought- her expression is once again drawn and weary. 

Page 4 Panel 1: Toriel turns to leave, waving goodbye. “You should look forward to your well-earned pie more!” 

Panel 2: Sans gives her a slightly skeptical look. “Alright.” is all he says. 

Panel 3: As she leaves, Toriel looks down and sees for the first time a small statue set by the door, surrounded by candles- it’s not a merchandise display, more like an altar. The statue is a horned figure holding a bowl filled with greenery- an offering of some type. The figure is rounded like a sitting child, and simple, with closed eyes and little other detail. 

Panel 4: Toriel’s dialogue over a close up shot of the figure: “What an interesting little figure you have. It does not look like it is for sale, is it?” The little horned one has three toes and four fingers on its stubby little arms and legs, and a detail on its forehead that could be a suggestion of hair, or it could be a symbol. The pillar candles surrounding it have been burned enough to have long wax drips pooled around them. 

Panel 5: Sans: “Nah, that’s just a holdover from my home country. Supposed to help keep demons out of your space.” He seems uninterested in this bit of lore, but Toriel, still facing away, is wide-eyed and shaken.

Panel 6: Toriel whirls back to him, sweating. “I-Is that so?” 

Panel 7: Sans’s expression intensifies, eyebrows dropping dramatically. “Sure thing. You know what happens when demons get in your grain stores?” 

Page 5 Panel 1: “They’re OATsolutely RYE-ined!” Sans holds his hands wide, like he’s waiting for the rimshot effect. It’s almost like his shop counter and back wall are suddenly a stage. 

Panel 2: Toriel hides a giggle behind her hand, relieved. 

Panel 3: “Is that something you have had to deal with previously?” she asks, stepping a little closer in her interest. Sans makes a slight gesture of dismissal. “Nah, I don’t really go in for that sort of stuff, honestly.”

Panel 4: Sans: “My brother, though… He’s all in on charms and wards and that sort of thing.” He gestures up, as if to point to wherever it is in the town that his brother might be now. 

Panel 5: “Keeping customs from your home country, I suppose?” Toriel asks, drawn again into the shop and closer to Sans. “Something like that,” he responds, leaning forward on his counter. On the wall next to him, there’s another woven wall hanging like the ones over the door.  Toriel: “Do you have any customs that have a reverse effect?” 

Panel 6: Sans looks as skeptical as one can while constantly grinning. “You mean like, if you want demons in your house?” 

Page 6 Panel 1: Toriel puts a hand up in denial. “N-No, that would obviously be undesirable! I meant more… just out of curiosity about your home.” 

Panel 2: Sans stares up at her, for a beat of silence. 

Panel 3: “Maybe? Again, this stuff isn’t my thing.” He leans back in his chair with his hands behind his head, nonchalant as can be. “And anyways, we left our country for a reason. Old customs aren’t relevant in this town, y’know?” 

Panel 4: Toriel once again turns to go, with a rueful smile. “Maybe not… but I cannot imagine letting go of your entire history.”

Panel 5: Sans shrugs and looks away. “There’s worse things to let go of, honestly.” 

Panel 6: Toriel, gritting her teeth, thinks of a happier time tucking Kris into bed. 

Panel 7: Close on Toriel’s expression, now more haggard and pained than it was when she came in. She clutches her chest tight. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi!! Could you write a fluff of Viktor and the reader having a chill day in his lab, just casual romantics? :)

Viktor had an unhealthy habit of overworking himself to the point where he can barely stand upright, only for the wave of fatigue caught up to him, forcing him to sit back down and attempt to will the feeling of uttermost weakness away before he went back to work as though he wasn’t constantly on the verge of passing out every second.

However there was a bright light in all this; you. Viktor might be awkward in the romance aspect of things but he he knew and valued how important you were to him, and sometime he found himself staring at the door of his lab; waiting for you to walk through it like you always did. Almost as if you knew he needed your presence as you nursed a cup of coffee between your hands made specially for him and only him. It warmed his heart at your considerate and sweet nature that it only made the doubt within his mind double as he wonders whether you’ll stay as long as you promised, much like how you promised him that you’d stay by his side when he first voiced these concerns to you late one night together.

However those thoughts were pushed aside when he saw the door open from the corner of his eye, mouth twitching in a fond smile as he watched you walk through, nursing a cup of coffee as per usual as you smiled that sweet and tender smile towards him. ‘Hey sweetie.’ You greeted him with a kiss to his temple, making Viktor lean into your lips and engrossing himself in the feeling a familiar warmth spread throughout his chest brought forth as he soaked in your affection through your kiss, as though he was reminding himself of your love for him.

‘Hello my dear.’ Viktor greeted back as he took the coffee from you and setting it aside before reaching for your hand, just as he then pressed a soft kiss to the back of it in appreciation. ‘Come to join me?’ He adds and innocently gestures to the chair he intentionally placed beside him, which made you chuckle at how well he knew you to the point he knew that you’ll always say yes to staying with him while he worked. You raised an eyebrow at him ‘is that an invitation or an instance for me to keep you company?’ You teased as you sat in the chair regardless.

‘It’s common courtesy after all the times you came into my lab, unannounced and making yourself at home.’ Viktor retorts playfully as he watched you pout and cross your arms over your chest. You looked beautiful and adorable when you did that and Viktor couldn’t help but thank you for bringing life and light into his rather dull life. He couldn’t help but live in this moment forever with no worries, no heavy load of work that left him with little to no time with you unless it was to sleep in your shared bed at night, he just wanted to shower you in the same warmth and affection that you had given to him unprovoked.

‘I’m just making sure you’re in good company.’ You defended yourself as Viktor only looked at you with an eyebrow raised, his beautiful eyes which were the colour of whiskey, looking right through you like they always did. You sighed, knowing you could never lie to him. ‘That and make sure you haven’t passed out due to constantly overworking yourself to near death.’ You add as you rest your head gently on Viktor’s shoulder, feeling his tense for a brief moment before relaxing the next as he gingerly rest his head atop of yours, letting out a deep sigh as he melted against you.

‘And I appreciate you for doing so,’ Viktor began as he grabbed your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as his thumb stroked against yours, ‘I wouldn’t know what I’d do without you being my rock, my sense of reason and my peace amongst the chaos.’ He adds as you both sat in relative peace, drinking in the other in without the need to say anything, for the other’s presence was enough to bring calm and quiet to your unified heart and souls that beat in tandem with one another.

‘I’ll gladly continue to do so for as long as you’ll need me.’ You said genuinely.

‘Then I think I’ll always need you.’ Viktor replied without an ounce of hesitation.

You smiled as you kiss his cheek. ‘Then by your side I shall stay because I love you and if i have to show you how much I love you by coming here and making sure you are taking care of yourself, then I’ll gladly do so everyday for the rest of our lives.’ Viktor chuckled softly as he felt tears well up in his eyes at your declaration, moving his head so it was buried in the side of yours as he pressed a few kisses to your temple. ‘Thank you.’ He whispered. ‘Thank you so much for loving me.’

You squeeze his hand. ‘It comes to me as easy as breathing.’ You tell him, wanting to be nowhere else but by his side.

[muletia]

[tfp] obsessed!optimus prime x human!reader

summary: you cuddle, that's it :)

cw: fluff, comfort, pinch of angst, established relationship, silliness, extremely self-indulgent, the idea spawned in my head and i had to write it immediately

word count: 1200

an: for the anons and non-anons in my inbox: i see you and i appreciate every ask you sent me, some ideas are really lovely and cute and i will write drabbles about them. i just don't want to force myself to write 24/7 because i get burn out very easily, so it may take me some time to answer you all :DD

You can see it in his optics right away. Sadness, regret, exhaustion. He’s utterly drained, even if his frame doesn’t betray it. Always upright, with perfect posture, to set an example, to be a symbol for his people. But you’ve seen through that facade for a long time now.

He approaches you, a small human sitting on his berth with a book in your hands, wrapped in a blanket. And even despite the exhaustion, despite the chaos undoubtedly storming in his processor, he smiles at you. It's faint, but tender, joyous just to be in your presence.

“Hey,” you greet him softly, returning his smile. “How did the mission go?”

“Greetings, my dearest. Unfortunately, it did not end in success.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you... want to talk about it?”

The smile fades, replaced by bitterness. The Prime returns, the leader is back. As much as he wanted to tell you everything, the wound was too fresh, too raw. He wasn’t ready to revisit those memories—not yet. He would rather think of you, only you. That was his plan for tonight, for the scraps of time you had left together. It was enough for you to just be by his side, to meet his gaze now and then, to smile. He wouldn’t ask for more; he wouldn’t dare.

“I sincerely apologize, but I do not feel comfortable discussing it at this moment. However, I shall divulge the details to you later.”

“All right, I totally understand. I don't want to push you into anything.”

“For that, I am deeply grateful.”

“But! Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?”

“Your presence alone suffices for me.”

You weren’t entirely convinced. Optimus never asked for more. Never demanded, never took the lead. Sometimes he would request but never initiate. You wonder how you even ended up as a couple. How long he must have suppressed his feelings before you realized your own. But you quickly push those thoughts aside. They’re painful and, most importantly, they belong to the past.

“I don’t know... that feels like it’s not enough.” You know he’s about to protest, to launch into a monologue about how he doesn’t expect more from you, so you cut him off. “Wait. I know what you’re going to say, but this time, I want to actually help you. Have you ever... cuddled?"

His optics widen slightly. He wasn’t expecting that question, nor your assertiveness. But now, he’s profoundly grateful for it.

“I am familiar with the term, though I have never partaken in… cuddling. On Cybertron, other customs of expressing affection were prevalent.”

You’ll have to ask him about that later.

“I see. Would you like to cuddle now?”

Your question catches him off guard. He hesitates. If he says ‘yes,’ he’ll be stepping into completely uncharted territory, stripped of control over himself, entirely at your mercy. If he says ‘no,’ he’ll miss the experience of human affection, of tasting a relationship from your perspective, a human perspective. And it might hurt your feelings, which was the last thing he wanted.

“Yes,” he whispers.

Your wide smile is reward enough for him, though the best is yet to come.

You slide the blanket off one side of your body and pat the empty space beside you. The message is clear, and Optimus knows what to do. Fortunately, he still has enough energy to mass-displace, which he does in a matter of seconds, shrinking to a still-imposing three meters.

“Amazing,” you whisper.

He kneels on both knees to reduce the height difference even further. You’ll still have to climb onto his thighs to make the hug work, but you appreciate the effort. Now, it’s all in your hands.

Even in this position, he’s perfect—straight back, arms resting neatly by his sides. A few indecent ideas cross your mind; you know exactly how to take advantage of his submissiveness towards you. But those plans are for later. This is not the time to be lewd.

“If you feel uncomfortable, let me know right away,” you say, approaching him slowly.

You climb onto his thighs, watching his expression closely for any sign of discomfort, for anything he might not voice but would betray through body language. Luckily, you find nothing—not even when you’re face-to-face with him.

With your fingertips, you gently caress the metal where a human would have a cheek. You’re delicate, exploring uncharted territory. Stroking his cheek as a titan was one thing, but this form was new to you, just as it was to him. So you take your time, allowing him to adjust to the new circumstances, to this form of affection. Your hands move to the back, brushing against his audials until they encircle his entire helm. You shift slightly to the side to complete the embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head against the side of his.

You don’t expect him to return the hug. This time, you expect nothing from him. This is an experiment, a trial. You just want him to stop thinking about everything that happened on the mission and start thinking about the here and now. To focus on you, on the skin-to-metal contact, on the fact that, for now, he doesn’t have to return to the battlefield. That he’s safe. So you’re surprised when you feel heavy hands on your back, enveloping you completely. But you don’t comment; you don’t say a word about it. You let him, because he deserves it.

His world narrows down to you. To your hair, tickling the back of his helm, to the warm skin pressing against his metal. To your softness, your breath, your heartbeat. To your scent, which he knows so well. You surround him from every angle, allowing him to forget the failure he suffered today. You fill his processor, already overloaded with thoughts of you, with even more admiration for your actions—for how you wanted to help him, even though he never asked you to. You are his universe, his galaxy, his sun around which he orbits. His alpha and omega, his beginning and his end.

This position and action are foreign to him, uncharted, incomparable to any other sensation. It wasn’t like holding you on his shoulder; it wasn’t like reminiscing about your smile. This was something new, far more intimate, and not yet fully understood by him. But it was beautiful and captivating. Raw.

“Everything will be all right,” you assure him, your voice resonating through his entire frame. “Everything is all right.” He believes you.

He can’t tell how long the two of you remain locked in each other’s embrace, but eventually, he feels you shifting. The last thing he wants to do now is let you go, still lost in your closeness, but he has no intention of holding you against your will. He releases you from his grasp, and you pull back from his chassis, leaving behind an unpleasant coldness. He wants you back there, pronto.

“Did you like it?” you ask with a smile, your thumb starting to stroke his cheek.

“Immensely,” he replies, looking into your eyes. A smile creeps onto his faceplate. “Might I request another cuddle?”

[miniwheat77]

Shakin’ (Ghost x Reader.)

!I aged Simon up a bit for this chapter. He’s around 44. Smut, unprotected p in v sex, (wrap it up-_-) military talk, teasing, you know the drill babes, absolutely NO MINORS, enjoy!

(Bc I bet Simon totally listened to Eddie Money when he was a teen XD. Obvi my song inspo is Shakin’ by Eddie Money.)

At this point, everything he did was routine. 141 had Simon busy most of the time so he didn’t spend too much time off base anymore. He had nothing better to do, the most exciting thing he did was stop by a bar with Johnny and Price. That was it. A round of new recruits were coming and this was always the hardest part, getting used to the newbies. Because some of them were insufferable. Ghost liked to be left alone. But the new recruits were always all over him. Trying to make friends and be nice and ask for advice which he didn’t mind, not at all. But sometimes he’d just want to be left alone.

For some reason, there weren’t many women on base. Aside from a couple that didn’t work out for… inappropriate reasons. There was no one but Laswell around.

“Ghost.” The scot accent pierces his ears and he turns to see Soap approaching with a girl by his side. “This is Y/N. She’s one of the new recruits.” He tilts his head to you. Ghost nods his head. “Hi.” You send a small wave his way. “Hey.” He says. “See, he doesn’t bite.” Soap laughs. “No, but I might.” You smile. Your sly smile pierces Simon right to his core, a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. As you walked away with Johnny, he wondered what the hell that was.

He didn’t know it, but it was the start of something special.

You settle in pretty quickly and Ghost sees how well you and Johnny get along together. He sees the both of you together quite often. Ghost worried about him catching feelings for you, and having you turn out to be like every other girl that’s come onto this base. A barracks bunny.

His worries all came to an end when he watched you resist every guy on base. Seriously, they’ll hit on you while you’re sitting across from the both of them and you’ll have to spin around and tell them to piss off.

You’re usually eating, listening to something Soap is saying and someone will walk up behind you and start trying to flirt with you. He can see the immediate anger on your face, wanting to be left alone.

Something Ghost didn’t expect is the both of you to start spending time together. Without Johnny around. You were a productive soldier. Always offering to help, always busy doing something around the base. You hardly ever complained about something and when you did it’s usually because you hurt in some kind of way. Which he understood all too well. You always offered to help him with anything he was doing. Jumping right up when he was going to do some heavy lifting. So the two of you started hanging out and doing those things together like it was second nature. A routine. Ghost started catching feelings for you pretty quickly and he tried to avoid it.

Especially after he found out how young you were.

You followed him out to load up the Humvee, and you spoke about your parents. Something about the age of your mum made Simon perk up. “Wait. How old are you?” He asks. You smile. “Why you want to know?” You smirk. “Because it sounds like your mum is about the same age as me and that means you’re really young.” He freezes up. “Yeah, I’m 21.” His eyes widen. “Jesus Christ. You do not look that young. You’re really mature for your age.” He mumbles, tossing a box into the back of the Humvee. He hears you chuckle. “Yeah, I get that a lot. But.. age doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.” The slyness of your words have the hair on his neck standing up. “Yeah right, I’m old enough to be your dad.” He rolls his eyes.

You set a box down, only maybe a foot away from him. “Doesn’t scare me.” You smile. Stepping away from him. What exactly did you mean by that? Were you… flirting with him?

—

��Rosanna’s daddy had a car she loved to drive.” You mumble out the lyrics as you pass by Ghost. You don’t see him yet but he’s there. As soon as those lyrics hit his ears, he smiles. Reminding him of when he was a teenager, being crazy. Something he didn’t seem to think about too often anymore. “Stole the keys one night and took me for a ride.”

“Fuck.” You mutter as the box splits open, the contents of it falling out the bottom. Ghost steps out of the darkness. “What you singing there sweetheart?”

You jump when you hear him behind. “Jesus Christ.” You breathe. Tugging an earbud out of one of your ears. “Gave me a heart attack.” You laugh. Theres something inside of him brewing. Looking at you now, he knows there’s no going back.

He can only pray Johnny has no feelings for you, because there’s no going back. “Price told me to get you and check out some surrounding areas. Take the Humvee.” He nods. “Really?” You ask. He nods his head, lying through his teeth. What Price doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

He could still hear your music through your earbuds.

“Turned up the music just as loud as it could go, blew out the speakers in her daddy’s radio. She was shakin’” he smiles. “Eddie Money ah?” He asks. Hearing you laugh.

“Of course.”

“Snappin her fingers, she was movin’ round and round. That girl was shakin’”

“Come on, let’s go.” He helps you put everything back into the box, telling you to worry about it later. When you get inside the Humvee, he snags one of the earbuds from you. Sliding it into his ear. He pulls out of the garage. He could get in so much trouble over this, but can’t remember the last time he’s done something this crazy. You haven’t done anything and you’ve already lit a fire inside of him.

“We started drinkin’ wasn’t thinking too straight. She was doing 80 and she slammed on the breaks. Got so high we had to pull to the side. We did some shakin’ til the middle of the night.”

He reaches his hand across the middle, resting it on your thigh. You tense up immediately, turning to look at him. “Ghost.. what are you doing?” You ask. His hand glides further up, and he hears you gasp. “Simon-“ you laugh.

“Shakin’, snappin’ her fingers. She was up and down and round and round. Shakin’”

“Cmere baby, sit in my lap.” He forces you over onto him, facing the steering wheel. You can feel his bulge against your ass. You twist around in his lap. Straddling him and keeping your face tucked into his neck so that he can see. He groans as you start attacking his neck. Sucking and biting at his skin. “Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. “Drive me fucking crazy.” He hisses.

“I got a little nervous. She took her coat off. She looked so pretty, ah yeah.”

He takes in a deep breath as you reach for his cargo pants. “Focus on the road. Don’t kill us.” You laugh. “Fuck- doing my best.” He laughs. You unzip his pants, tugging his cock through the hole in his boxers until you could see it. Taking a deep breath. You wiggle your own cargo pants down, off of one leg, freeing up your hips, you straddle him.

“I’m always talkin’ baby, talkin’ too much. I love that little girl and I just can’t get enough. It takes a lonely night with nowhere to go, just call Rosanna and it’s a hell of a show.

And she’s shakin’”

A hiss leaves his lips as he grips your hips with his rough hands. You swallow him up, sliding down onto him. He’s driving fast, way faster than he should. But he’s so fired up from you, he can’t help it. It’s fucking thrilling. Your skin is soft compared to his calloused hands. He grits his teeth, muscles tightening in his body as you slide down around him. Clutching onto him like a glove. The music is loud, nearly hurting your ears as you rock your hips into him. “Fuck- fucking hell you’re a minx.” Simon grits his teeth harder, gripping onto you and rocking his hips up to meet yours. He presses his foot into the gas harder, thanking whatever god is out there that this road is empty.

The pleasure is white hot, wrapping around the base of his spine and working its way up. You make him feel young again, like a crazy teenager. You attack his neck, you’re loud and you can’t help it as you ride him, raising yourself up onto him and moving back down. Riding him like your life depends on it. Chasing after that high. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, crying out. You gasp out when he slams onto the breaks, pulling over onto the side of the road. He forces you to look at him after he throws it into park. He grips your hips tightly, thrusting up into you. “Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.” He growls. He grasps the bottom of his balaclava, tugging it over his head. He grips your chin, pulling you in to kiss him. You’re whining as he fucks up into you.

The windows are starting to fog up, your bodies are sweaty as they move against each other. He feels hot, fully dressed. Feelings just how hot the two of you have made it in the car. The fat of your hips clutched hard between his massive hands. Making you feel small as he fills you up. You stare him in the eyes, keeping eye contact. You smile, making him narrow his eyes. “What?” He asks. “Do I intimidate you Simon?” You smile. He shakes his head. “What are you talking about?”

“You seemed intimidated by me flirting with you.” You wrap your arms around his neck, rocking into him. He’s panting almost. “Just not used to it. Usually it’s the other way around. I’m supposed to intimidate you.” He laughs. Clutching onto the seat of the Humvee. “Fuck- you’re getting me close sweetheart.” He grits his teeth. “Me too.” You breathe, adjusting yourself one last time. He tilts his head back against the seat and you lean in, biting down on his throat, feeling his pulse against your tongue. His breaths pick up. He’s getting close, you can tell. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tight. Thrusting up into you. “Fuck- fuck baby. I’m gonna cum.” He gasps. His eyes roll back and his lips part. He gasps, hips jerking up into you. Your eyes narrow shut, closing tight. That knot forming in your belly. The warmth of him sends you over the edge, crying out into the crook of his neck. He holds you tight to him like you’ll fall apart if he lets go.

Your thighs shake as he adjusts you in his lap. “You did so good.” He breathes. “Such a good girl for me.” He breathes. He hears you laugh into him. “Fuck. We’re gonna be in so much trouble when we get back.” You mumble against him. “Yeah, probably.”

“One more, make it worth our while?” He smirks. You glide your tongue over your bottom lip. “Let me restart the song.” You giggle.

[wirewitchviolet]

How a Computer Works - Part 1 (Components)

I am about to teach you on a real fundamental, connecting up electronic components level, how a computer actually works. Before I get into the meat of this though (you can just skip down below the fold if you don't care), here's the reasons I'm sitting doing so in this format:

Like a decade or two ago, companies Facebook pushed this whole "pivot to video" idea on the whole internet with some completely faked data, convincing everyone that everything had to be a video, and we need to start pushing back against that. Especially for stuff like complex explanations of things or instructions, it's much more efficient to just explain things clearly in text, maybe with some visual aids, so people can easily search, scan, and skip around between sections. It's also a hell of a lot easier to host things long term, and you can even print out a text based explainer and not need a computer to read it, keep it on a desk, highlight it, etc.

People are so clueless about how computers actually work that they start really thinking like it's all magical. Even programmers. Aside from how proper knowledge lets you get more out of them, this leads to people spouting off total nonsense about "teaching sand to think" or "everything is just 1s and 0s" or "this 'AI' a con artist who was trying to sell me NFTs a month ago probably really is an amazing creative thinking machine that can do everything he says!"

We used to have this cultural value going where it was expected that if you owned something and used it day to day, you'd have enough basic knowledge of how it worked that if it stopped working you could open it up, see what was wrong, and maybe fix it on your own, or maybe even put one together again from scratch, and that's obviously worth bringing back.

I'm personally working on a totally bonkers DIY project and I'd like to hype up like-minded people for when it gets farther along.

So all that said, have a standard reminder that I am completely reliant on Patreon donations to survive, keep updating this blog, and ideally start getting some PCBs and chips and a nice oscilloscope to get that mystery project off the ground.

Electricity probably doesn't work like how you were taught (and my explanation shouldn't be trusted too far either).

I remember, growing up, hearing all sorts of things about electricity having this sort of magical ability to always find the shortest possible path to where it needs to get, flowing like water, and a bunch of other things that are kind of useful for explaining how a Faraday cage or a lightning rod works, and not conflicting with how simple electronics will have a battery and then a single line of wire going through like a switch and a light bulb or whatever back to the other end of the battery.

If you had this idea drilled into your head hard enough, you might end up thinking that if we have a wire hooked to the negative end of a battery stretching off to the east, and another wire stretching off to the east from the positive end, and we bridge between the two in several places with an LED or something soldered to both ends, only the westernmost one is going to light up, because hey, the shortest path is the one that turns off as quickly as possible to connect to the other side, right? Well turns out no, all three are going to light up, because that "shortest path" thing is a total misunderstanding.

Here's how it actually works, roughly. If you took basic high school chemistry, you learned about how the periodic table is set up, right? A given atom, normally, has whatever number of protons in the core, and the same number of electrons, whipping all over around it, being attracted to those protons but repelled by each other, and there's particular counts of electrons which are super chill with that arrangement so we put those elements in the same column as each other, and then as you count up from those, you get the elements between those either have some electrons that don't fit all tight packed in the tight orbit and just kinda hang out all wide and lonely and "want to" buddy up with another atom that has more room, up to the half full column that can kinda go either way, then as we approach the next happy number they "want to" have a little more company to get right to that cozy tight packed number, and when you have "extra" electrons and "missing" electrons other atoms kinda cozy up and share so they hit those good noble gas counts.

I'm sure real experts want to scream at me for both that and this, but this is basically how electricity works. You have a big pile of something at the "positive" end that's "missing electrons" (for the above reason or maybe actually ionized so they really aren't there), and a "negative" end that's got spares. Then you make wires out of stuff from those middle of the road elements that have awkward electron counts and don't mind buddying up (and also high melting points and some other handy qualities) and you hook those in there. And the electron clouds on all the atoms in the wire get kinda pulled towards the positive side because there's more room over there, but if they full on leave their nucleus needs more electron pals, so yeah neighbors get pulled over, and the whole wire connected to the positive bit ends up with a positive charge to it, and the whole wire on the negative bit is negatively charged, and so yeah, anywhere you bridge the gap between the two, the electrons are pretty stoked about balancing out these two big awkward compromises and they'll start conga lining over to balance things out, and while they're at it they'll light up lights or shake speakers or spin motors or activate electromagnets or whatever other rad things you've worked out how to make happen with a live electric current.

Insulators, Resistors, Waves, and Capacitors

Oh and we typically surround these wires made of things that are super happy about sharing electrons around with materials that are very much "I'm good, thanks," but this isn't an all or nothing system and there's stuff you can connect between the positive and negative ends of things that still pass the current along, but only so much so fast. We use those to make resistors, and those are handy because sometimes you don't want to put all the juice you have through something because it would damage it, and having a resistor anywhere along a path you're putting current through puts a cap on that flow, and also sometimes you might want a wire connected to positive or negative with a really strong resistor so it'll have SOME sort of default charge, but if we get a free(r) flowing connection attached to that wire somewhere else that opens sometimes, screw that little trickle going one way, we're leaning everyone the other way for now.

The other thing with electricity is is that the flow here isn't a basic yes/no thing. How enthusiastically those electrons are getting pulled depends on the difference in charge at the positive and negative ends, and also if you're running super long wires then even if they conduct real good, having all that space to spread along is going to kinda slow things to a trickle, AND the whole thing is kinda going to have some inherent bounciness to it both because we're dealing with electrons whipping and spinning all over and because, since it's a property that's actually useful for a lot of things we do with electricity, the power coming out of the wall has this intentional wobbly nature because we've actually got this ridiculous spinny thing going on that's constantly flip flopping which prong of the socket is positive and which is negative and point is we get these sine waves of strength by default, and they kinda flop over if we're going really far.

Of course there's also a lot of times when you really want to not have your current flow flickering on and off all the time, but hey fortunately one of the first neat little electronic components we ever worked out are capacitors... and look, I'm going to be straight with you. I don't really get capacitors, but the basic idea is you've got two wires that go to big wide plates, and between those you have something that doesn't conduct the electricity normally, but they're so close the electromagnetic fields are like vibing, and then if you disconnect them from the flow they were almost conducting and/or they get charged to their limit, they just can't deal with being so charged up and they'll bridge their own gap and let it out. So basically you give them electricity to hold onto for a bit then pass along, and various sizes of them are super handy if you want to have a delay between throwing a switch and having things start doing their thing, or keeping stuff going after you break a connection, or you make a little branching path where one branch connects all regular and the other goes through a capacitor, and the electricity which is coming in in little pulses effectively comes out as a relatively steady stream because every time it'd cut out the capacity lets its charge go.

We don't just have switches, we have potentiometers.

OK, so... all of the above is just sort of about having a current and maybe worrying about how strong it is, but other than explaining how you can just kinda have main power rails running all over, and just hook stuff across them all willy-nilly rather than being forced to put everything in one big line, but still, all you can do with that is turn the whole thing on and off by breaking the circuit. Incidentally, switches, buttons, keys, and anything else you use to control the behavior of any electronic device really are just physically touching loose wires together or pulling them apart... well wait no, not all, this is a good bit to know.

None of this is actually pass/fail, really, there's wave amplitudes and how big a difference we have between the all. So when you have like, a volume knob, that's a potentiometer, which is a simple little thing where you've got your wire, it's going through a resistor, and then we have another wire we're scraping back and forth along the resistor, using a knob, usually, and the idea is the current only has to go through X percent of the resistor to get to the wire you're moving, which proportionately reduces the resistance. So you have like a 20 volt current, you've got a resistor that'll drop that down to 5 or so, but then you move this other wire down along and you've got this whole dynamic range and you can fine tune it to 15 or 10 or whatever coming down that wire. And what's nice about this again, what's actually coming down the wire is this wobbily wave of current, it's not really just "on" or "off, and as you add resistance, the wobble stays the same, it's just the peaks and valleys get closer to being just flat. Which is great if you're making, say, a knob to control volume, or brightness, or anything you want variable intensity in really.

Hey hey, it's a relay!

Again, a lot of the earliest stuff people did with electronics was really dependent on that analog wobbly waveform angle. Particularly for reproducing sound, and particularly the signals of a telegraph. Those had to travel down wires for absurd distances, and as previously stated, when you do that the signal is going to eventually decay to nothing. But then someone came up with this really basic idea where every so often along those super long wires, you set something up that takes the old signal and uses it to start a new one. They called them relays, because you know, it's like a relay race.

If you know how an electromagnet works (something about the field generated when you coil a bunch of copper wire around an iron core and run an electric current through it), a relay is super simple. You've got an electromagnet in the first circuit you're running, presumably right by where it's going to hit the big charged endpoint, and that magnetically pulls a tab of metal that's acting as a switch on a new circuit. As long as you've got enough juice left to activate the magnet, you slam that switch and voom you've got all the voltage you can generate on the new line.

Relays don't get used too much in other stuff, being unpopular at the time for not being all analog and wobbily (slamming that switch back and forth IS going to be a very binary on or off sorta thing), and they make this loud clacking noise that's actually just super cool to hear in devices that do use them (pinball machines are one of the main surviving use cases I believe) but could be annoying in some cases. What's also neat is that they're a logical AND gate. That is, if you have current flowing into the magnet, AND you have current flowing into the new wire up to the switch, you have it flowing out through the far side of the switch, but if either of those isn't true, nothing happens. Logic gates, to get ahead of myself a bit, are kinda the whole thing with computers, but we still need the rest of them. So for these purposes, relays re only neat if it's the most power and space efficient AND gate you have access to.

Oh and come to think of it, there's no reason we need to have that magnet closing the circuit when it's doing its thing. We could have it closed by default and yank it open by the magnet. Hey, now we're inverting whatever we're getting on the first wire! Neat!

Relay computers clack too loud! Gimme vacuum tubes!

So... let's take a look at the other main thing people used electricity for before coming up with the whole computer thing, our old friend the light bulb! Now I already touched a bit on the whole wacky alternating current thing, and I think this is actually one of the cases that eventually lead to it being adopted so widely, but the earliest light bulbs tended to just use normal direct current, where again, you've got the positive end and the negative end, and we just take a little filament of whatever we have handy that glows when you run enough of a current through it, and we put that in a big glass bulb and pump out all the air we can, because if we don't, the oxygen in there is probably going to change that from glowing a bit to straight up catching on fire and burning immediately.

But, we have a new weird little problem, because of the physics behind that glowing. Making something hot, on a molecular level, is just kinda adding energy to the system so everything jitters around more violently, and if you get something hot enough that it glows, you're getting it all twitchy enough for tinier particles to just fly the hell off it. Specifically photons, that's the light bit, but also hey, remember, electrons are just kinda free moving and whipping all over looking for their naked proton pals... and hey, inside this big glass bulb, we've got that other end of the wire with the more positive charge to it. Why bother wandering up this whole coily filament when we're in a vacuum and there's nothing to get in the way if we just leap straight over that gap? So... they do that, and they're coming in fast and on elliptical approaches and all, so a bunch of electrons overshoot and smack into the glass on the far side, and now one side of every light bulb is getting all gross and burnt from that and turning all brown and we can't have that.

So again, part of the fix is we switched to alternating current so it's at least splitting those wild jumps up to either side, but before that, someone tried to solve this by just... kinda putting a backboard in there. Stick a big metal plate on the end of another wire in the bulb connected to a positive charge, and now OK, all those maverick electrons smack into here and aren't messing up the glass, but also hey, this is a neat little thing. Those electrons are making that hop because they're all hot and bothered. If we're not heating up the plate they're jumping to, and there's no real reason we'd want to, then if we had a negative signal over on that side... nothing would happen. Electrons aren't getting all antsy and jumping back.

So now we have a diode! The name comes because we have two (di-) electrodes (-ode) we care about in the bulb (we're just kind of ignoring the negative one), and it's a one way street for our circuit. That's useful for a lot of stuff, like not having electricity flow backwards through complex systems and mess things up, converting AC to DC (when it flips, current won't flow through the diode so we lop off the bottom of the wave, and hey, we can do that thing with capacitors to release their current during those cutoffs, and if we're clever we can get a pretty steady high).

More electrodes! More electrodes!

So a bit after someone worked out this whole vacuum tube diode thing, someone went hey, what if it was a triode? So, let's stick another electrode in there, and this one just kinda curves around in the middle, just kinda making a grate or a mesh grid, between our hot always flowing filament and that catch plate we're keeping positively charged when it's doing stuff. Well this works in a neat way. If there's a negative charge on it, it's going to be pushing back on those electrons jumping over, and if there's a positive charge on it, it's going to help pull those electrons over (it's all thin, so they're going to shoot right past it, especially if there's way more of a positive charge over on the plate... and here's the super cool part- This is an analog thing. If we have a relatively big negative charge, it's going to repel everything, if it's a relatively big positive, it's going to pull a ton across, if it's right in the middle, it's like it wasn't even in there, and you can have tiny charges for all the gradients in between.

We don't need a huge charge for any of this though, because we're just helping or hindering the big jump from the high voltage stuff, and huh, weren't we doing this whole weak current controlling a strong current thing before with the relay? We were! And this is doing the same thing! Except now we're doing it all analog style, not slapping switch with a magnet, and we can make those wavy currents peak higher or lower and cool, now we can have phone lines boost over long distances too, and make volume knobs, and all that good stuff.

The relay version of this had that cool trick though where you could flip the output. Can we still flip the output? We sure can, we just need some other toys in the mix. See we keep talking about positive charges and negative charges at the ends of our circuits, but these are relative things. I mentioned way back when how you can use resistors to throttle how much of a current we've got, so you can run two wires to that grid in the triode. One connects to a negative charge and the other positive, with resistors on both those lines, and a switch that can break the connection on the positive end. If the positive is disconnected, we've got a negative charge on the grid, since it's all we've got, but if we connect it, and the resistor to the negative end really limits flow, we're positive in the section the grid's in. And over on the side with the collecting plate, we branch off with another resistor setup so the negative charge on that side is normally the only viable connection for a positive, but when we flip the grid to positive, we're jumping across the gap in the vacuum tube, and that's a big open flow so we'll just take those electrons instead of the ones that have to squeeze through a tight resistor to get there.

That explanation is probably a bit hard to follow because I'm over here trying to explain it based on how the electrons are actually getting pulled around. In the world of electronics everyone decided to just pretend the flow is going the other way because it makes stuff easier to follow. So pretend we have magical positrons that go the other way and if they have nothing better to do they go down the path where we have all the fun stuff further down the circuit lighting lights and all that even though it's a tight squeeze through a resistor, because there's a yucky double negative in the triode and that's worse, but we have the switch rigged up to make that a nice positive go signal to the resistance free promised land with a bonus booster to cut across, so we're just gonna go that way when the grid signal's connected.

Oh and you can make other sorts of logic circuits or double up on them in a single tube if you add more grids and such, which we did for a while, but not really relevant these days.

Cool history lesson but I know there's no relays or vacuum tubes in my computer.

Right, so the above things are how we used to make computers, but they were super bulky, and you'd have to deal with how relays are super loud and kinda slow, and vacuum tubes need a big power draw and get hot. What we use instead of either of those these days are transistors. See after spending a good number of years working out all this circuit flow stuff with vacuum tubes we eventually focused on how the real important thing in all of this is how with the right materials you can make a little juncture where current flows between a positive and negative charge if a third wire going in there is also positively charged, but if it's negatively charged we're pulling over. And turns out there is a WAY more efficient way of doing that if you take a chunk of good ol' middle of the electron road silicon, and just kinda lightly paint the side of it with just the tiniest amount of positive leaning and negative leaning elements on the sides.

Really transistors don't require understanding anything new past the large number of topics already covered here, they're just more compact about it. Positive leaning bit, negative leaning bit, wildcard in the middle, like a vacuum tube. Based on the concepts of pulling electrons around from chemistry, like a circuit in general. The control wire in the middle kinda works in just a pass-fail sort of way, like a relay. They're just really nice compared to the older alternatives because they don't make noise or have moving parts to wear down, you don't have to run enough current through them for metal to start glowing and the whole room to heat up, and you can make them small. Absurdly small. Like... need an electron microscope to see them small.

And of course you can also make an inverter super tiny like that, and a diode (while you're at it you can use special materials or phosphors to make them light emitting, go LEDs!) and resistors can get pretty damn small if you just use less of a more resistant material, capacitors I think have a limit to how tiny you can get, practically, but yeah, you now know enough of the basic fundamentals of how computers work to throw some logic gates together. We've covered how a relay, triode, or transistor function as an AND gate. An OR gate is super easy, you just stick diodes on two wires so you don't have messy backflow then connect them together and lead off there. If you can get your head around wiring up an inverter (AKA NOT), hey, stick one after an AND to get a NAND, or an OR to get a NOR. You can work out XOR and XNOR from there right? Just build 4 NANDs, pass input A into gates 1 and 2, B into 2 and 3, 2's output into 1 and 3, 1 and 3's output into 4 for a XOR, use NORs instead for a XNOR. That's all of them right? So now just build a ton of those and arrange them into a computer. It's all logic and math from there.

Oh right. It's... an absurd amount of logic and math, and I can only fit so many words in a blog post. So we'll have to go all...

CONTINUED IN PART 2!

Meanwhile, again, if you can spare some cash I'd really appreciate it.

[pumpkinbxtch]

heyy! I was wondering if you could do a hc for jason x daughter of Neptune like a beach date and it end with the Neptune girl having a full collection of shells and Jason taking care of her? If that makes sense?! 💗💗

beach day w my baby | headcanons

— jason grace x daughter of neptune!reader

☆ radiostar is playing: sunburn by almost monday…!

warnings: language, as usual I think. a/n: hey beautiful person how you're doing? ofc makes sense so put your sunglasses on girl, we're having a beach day!

Jason couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day than taking you to the beach. Sure, it seemed a bit cliché for a daughter of Neptune, but you couldn’t deny that you missed being near the sea, especially when everyone at Camp Jupiter saw you as just a bad omen. Jason wished it could be like at Camp Half-Blood, where the kids of the Big Three were almost too respected.

You reached for his hand, and he put those thoughts aside. He wanted to focus on you today and have a good time.

For your day at the beach...

Jason carried the backpack with all the essentials, double-checking everything before you left:

- Sunscreen? Check. Maybe it didn’t bother you or him, but he had to protect both of your skin.

- Towels to dry off? Check.

- An inflatable donut? It wasn’t for you, it was for him. He’s a good swimmer, but he wanted to relax too (which clearly didn’t happen).

- And finally, a small net bag.

- water

- snacks

- a protector for his glasses

- a change of clothes for both.

You’d probably drag him through the sand and play with him in the water. Jason held you tightly by the waist, and you smiled in that special way you only did when you were near the water... and him.

He was sweating from the heat and also because you made him nervous. How long have you been his girlfriend? He lost count (okay, he knows exactly, but it’s been long enough for him to be used to it).

He’s a shrimp if he doesn’t protect himself, but even with sunscreen, his face had pink spots.

You took him to a deeper spot with the help of an air bubble, showing him places he could never have seen without you.

Kissing underwater.

Putting sunscreen on each other. Jason always shyly asked when he got near places that might bother you with his hands.

When you were taking a break in the shade on your towels, he would direct a breeze toward you. No heatwave would threaten you.

He kept both of you hydrated.

Then you smiled and reached into the bag for the one thing you begged him to bring: your net bag. “Be right back,” you giggled anxiously and ran off before your boyfriend could say anything. Jason tried to stay put but ended up going with you.

“Look at this!” you squealed, holding up a shell to Jason’s eye level. The comparison was clear because that shell was a shade of blue similar to his eyes. Jason framed the view with his hands.

“Are there shells that color?” You shrugged and tossed it into the net to keep searching until you had a big collection.

Tired, you sat at the edge of the shore, where the tide just touched your toes, and Jason mimicked you. He kissed your forehead and smiled warmly as the sun began to set.

You held the net up, admiring the diversity and beauty of something so simple, then hugged it to your chest, looking a bit sad.

“Something wrong?” your boyfriend asked, noticing your heaviness and thinking you might have hurt yourself.

“Nothing,” you said, standing up and shaking the sand off your legs. “I’m going to put them back where they belong.”

He found it strange. If you’d put so much effort into collecting them, why return them?

“I’m afraid my father will get mad at me for taking something so precious,” you explained, “or that guy Grover will chase me for damaging the ecosystem,” you added with a more genuine laugh.

So, Jason helped you spread out what you had collected. You didn’t feel bad about doing the right thing; quite the opposite.

“All set?” Jason called a few meters away, and you nodded. He noticed you were holding something in your hand and asked with his eyes.

You extended your hand, revealing the unusual shell with the same eye color as Jason. “I know my dad won’t be mad if I take just one,” you said, taking Jason’s hand. He smiled and carried you bridal-style to the showers to wash off the sand.

[ghast1yghosts]

rockstar eddie munson hires an escort after a handful of failed attempts of nightly outings, misunderstandings, and calamities. it’s under the guise he might need a plus one to some event, but he knows it’s a boldfaced lie.

steve shows up to some big-name-hotshot’s apartment with a bag stuffed with anything and everything. only to be met with the most big doe eyed, pathetic wet dog of a human, who invites him in for coffee (it’s 8pm) or tea.. or whatever he drinks.

following eddie’s lead, they end up just talking for awhile. he scooches closer and steve remains lax, arms up on the back of the couch, inviting. eddie still asks if it’s okay, what he’s not sure, but steve’s fine with whatever.

what he’s not expecting though, is eddie tucking himself in close to his side, resting his head on his shoulder. and when steve puts his arm down over eddie’s shoulders, he doesn’t expect the man to take his hand and begin fiddle with it.

that’s the most climatic part of the evening.

whatever fantasy eddie had set out to do was set aside. put off by a bad day, he just wanted company. said so himself.

and steve, suddenly realized, maybe the note that was next to the client details, wasn’t just a polite way to ask for a sexual escapade.

he asks the next morning; nothing too upfront, he’s not trying to make the guy uncomfortable.

steve pads out of the bathroom, still in his sleep pants, to see eddie making coffee (at a normal hour thank god). as he pours it into two cups, steve throws the question, “if you’d been up for it, what would’ve you asked for?” it’s broad enough, it could be made to be about anything, he could brush it off too.

all it does it create a line of tension along eddie’s back.

“what do you mean?” eddie chuckles and sips at his drink.

“you know what i mean,” there’s really no beating around the bush here. there’s one reason a stranger invited another stranger into his apartment with a deposit already made. and he’d would be lying if he’s not slightly disappointed he wasn’t able to touch and feel this beautiful stranger, the way he anticipated. sue him, he’s curious now.

breaking off the eye contact, eddie looks down almost in shame. steve’s in front of him, can’t stand it for a second. he knows what in that message box, there’s no shame in it if it’s true.

“hey,” steve says, tucking a stray hair behind eddie’s ear, from the mop of bed head. “whatever it was, i can assure you i’ve probably heard far worse.” it makes eddie laugh a bit—he’s got a nice laugh.

“it’s not *bad.* just- *embarrassing,*” eddie covers his face with his hands.

steve pulls his hands away, “again, i’ve heard far worse, i’m sure.” eddie doesn’t seem convinced, so steve elaborates, “unless it’s some blood magic cult fantasy, and even then, it’s probably not that bad.”

eddie throws his head back with a laugh, thank god.

when steve pulls him into his chest, eddie’s hands find their place on his neck. eddie takes a deep breath before dropping his head again, like steve will give him some sort of grotesque look.

“i-“

“you don’t have to tell me. you can save it for next time.” eddie snorts.

“i was hoping to, and i quote, *make love.*” eddie says it so distastefully, spitting it out like it’s gross.

“and that’s… embarrassing?”

“it’s just kinda pathetic, man.”

“it’s really not, actually.”

“i’m sure you say that to all the pretty boys.”

“i’d say that to anyone, but especially pretty boys, yes.” steve’s looking into those big eyes again as they search for whatever in his own—analyzing, maybe, if he’s being genuine.

“sorry.”

hold on, back the fuck up, why is this man apologizing?

“why are you sorry? you’ve got nothing to be sorry about.”

“it’s just. lame…? and we didn’t even do anything…? like i’m sure there were more exciting things to do than cuddle me on the couch and in bed last night.”

“you want me to be honest?” he nods. “it was great.” aaaand steve’s made him confused again. somehow. it’s not intentional. but he can’t lie that it’s not kinda cute.

“there’s other ways to be intimate. just because, what? you didn’t feel up to being intimate in a different way, it wasn’t fun for me?”

“don’t make me feel dumb about this,” eddie says.

“i’m not trying to,” steve replies.

eddie pulls back, looks at the clock and sighs, “i suppose i shouldn’t keep you….”

“oh, you can keep me,” steve makes that smile appear again.

“i really shouldn’t.”

“next time then.”

“sure,” eddie smiles, something soft.

“next time,” steve steps back into his space, “i might take you up on that offer.”

“hm,” eddie raises an eyebrow, “and what ‘offer’ was that?”

steve ducks down to whisper in his ear.

“the offer to make love to you.”

eddie’s keeps the pink in his cheeks the entirety of the time steve grabs his things, but he’s definitely feeling less off than last night, thankfully.

and though eddie’s disappointed to see him go, he does give steve a little peck on his check for the road. and sending him off with a goofy eyebrow wiggle.

[sugarandspicewriting]

I am humbly requesting some headcanons for Genshin women,,, can I get Ei and Arlecchino dating hcs, I am asking for myself.

Anything for you pookie

Summary: General dating hcs for Ei and Arlecchino

Warnings: Does Scaramouche count as a warning. 828 words.

A/N: Arlecchino's section includes Scara and is set before he erased himself.

Arlecchino

You’d have to be a high ranking member of the Fatui or a harbinger to get close to her.

She’d have to come to like you on her own terms. No amount of flirting or seduction is going to get her to like you if she doesn’t already. 

She will not waste her time on you if she doesn’t see value in you. So if she does express romantic interest in you, it’s probably because your goals are closely aligned.

That being said, the way she flirts/shows affection can be vaguely threatening.

“Can you run in those shoes?” 

“What?”

“I said, can you run in those shoes? It would be horrible if something were to happen to you…”

Hey queen! What did you mean by that.

Anyways, romantic threats aside,  she’s very old fashioned in her courting rituals.

She absolutely calls it courting

SHe carefully arranges dates for the two of you. You really should be grateful she makes time for you in her busy schedule.

She enjoys inviting you to her residence in Fontaine at the hearth and drinking tea with you while chatting. 

She takes you on walks to places where she’s noticed beautiful scenery.

She keeps correspondence with you through letters when she’s away

But in the brief moments you get alone, she is open to receiving  physical affection.

She enjoys having you on her lap. To her it represents the power she holds over you. If you’re lucky she’ll allow you to do it while she’s working at her desk.

“Are you a child?” Scaramouche sneered. His face contorted into a look of disgust. Arlecchino continued writing, choosing not to dignify his statement with a response. You tore your gaze away from the iron cast  flickering fireplace from your spot on her lap.  

It wasn’t a good idea to indulge Scaramouche by replying to his insults, but the compromising position he had found you in left you feeling defensive.

“And what if I am?” you retorted, your voice steady despite the irritation bubbling within. “It’s better than being an insufferable fool.” Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing more.

“If you two are quite done,” Arlecchino’s voice rang out from behind you. “I have work to finish. Do say what you came for and leave Scaramouche.”

She isn’t a conversationalist, but she’ll allow you to discuss whatever you’d like. If anyone else wanted to discuss their favorite light novel with her, she wouldn’t allow it. But you get the privilege of discussing trivial things with her. 

If she has the time, she might even read the novel herself.

A relationship with Arlecchino would be unconventional, but it’s not something she’s concerned about. If a conventional relationship is what you wanted, you’d be with someone else.

Ei

You would need to be someone who worked in Tenshukaku. Ei very rarely leaves and doesn’t have anything romantic on her mind when she does. 

Yae will probably have to help her decipher her feelings. After having spent so much time in the plane of euthymia she would have forgotten how it feels to like someone in that way.

“I cannot recall ever feeling this way about anyone else. Just simply being around them brings me great joy. I find myself wanting to experience new things with them, and add them into my definition of eternity. What does this mean?”

“Ei… you’re so childish sometimes.”

Once she stumbles her way through her confession, she likes to give you little trinkets she finds when she does leave, or even something she finds around the building.

One day she might give you a rock that reminded her of the color of your eyes, another time she might give you an exorbitantly expensive necklace she saw on one of her rare outings. 

As someone who has been alive for hundreds of years and has her sights set on eternity,she sees both of those gifts as equally valued, and expects you to see them that way as well.

It’s important for you to help her get out of her head sometimes. If she had it her way she’d keep you in Tenshukaku, or even the plane of Euthymia at all times to keep you safe. She knows that’s not what you would want, so she won’t but she worries about you.

She enjoys sharing meals with you. Every time she discovers a new treat, her first thought is to share it with you.

“Have you tried this before? It’s called Daifuku. It’s a mochi stuffed with sweet filling! Doesn’t that sound delicious?”

“Ei, I thought we were supposed to be eating dinner, not dessert.”

“Not every meal has to be particularly nutritious. The Shogun doesn’t know everything.”

“Ei!”

Being with Ei as a mortal being will be an interesting experience. She doesn’t like when things change, and she knows you won’t always be around. But she is more than happy with spending a moment in her eternity with you.

[littlenahsstuff]

Sugar, Spice, Not Nice

Bridget x Demigod!reader

Requested by @ladyqueenxoxo

Synopsis:You are hades niece. No one knows you are a demigod or that you are staying with Hades. You hang around his group but don’t fit in at all. You try your hardest but sometimes you crave the sweetest things in life. You are handpicked to mess with Bridget in order to prove yourself. No one knows you are dating her either.

Warnings: not proofread! Bullying. Uliana’s an asshole. I’m not sure how much I like this one, but the endings nice.

Word count: 2.3k

~~~~~

The Vks all sat around one of the courtyard tables. You had to try your hardest not to gag at Hades and Maleficent. It didn’t end well the last time you did. You were lost in thought, thinking about your wonderful girlfriend Bridget.

What kind of sweets will she make today? Maybe I can help her after-

“I’m bored, someone come up with something interesting to do” Uliana demands.

Maybe Bridget will bake-

“Uh hello, earth to Y/n!” Uliana screeches. You immediately focus.

“Oh uh, sorry..” you trail. You know you’ve messed up again based off of the look on Ulianas face.

“What have I told you about apologizing. Seriously for being the only one to care about those stupid honors classes you sure are a grade A imbecile,” she responds and the others laugh at you. You just nod and shrink a little.

“Hey Uli,” Hook starts. He’s looking at you menacingly. “I think the honors girl here needs some sort of extra credit. Let’s give her something evil to do!” The panic is growing exponentially. You haven’t had to actually do anything evil yet, mainly sending some half-assed insults.

Uliana’s grin grows. “Why do you look so nervous Y/n? Scared of doing a little bad? I guess you do need it. The petty thievery and cheating doesn’t cut it anymore.”

“No, I’m just having an off day,” you excuse. You gulp. You’ve also tripped a couple of people and maybe driven Ulianas car as the getaway driver while they stole a hamster from the store. You felt so bad for the little guy. It’s not like you were the meanest but looking back on it you sure as hell were bad a lot.

“Well… in that case” Uliana’s voice gets high pitched. “We should give you something easy! Why don’t you prank Bridget for me. I have yet to do it this year, with the fresh meat and all that.” You get confused and terrified. “You’re new, but Bridget happens to be my favorite target. I always typically set aside the nastiest of my plans for her.” She cackles, making the already cavernous pit in your stomach bigger.

“Oh really?” You say. You can tell any strength in your voice is gone.

“Yeah, so… this year we were planning something a little more personal. We know Bridget takes those stupid honors classes too. That makes you the perfect candidate for this particular prank,” Uliana chuckles darkly. “That brat is always trying to make friends, so let’s give her exactly what she wants. Once you manage to do so you are to hide these magic beans in her room.” She held out the beans and they shimmered. Magic beans were totally illegal and would get Bridget expelled if anyone found it. You twiddle your thumbs as a slight sweat breaks out.

“But- what if-“ you’re cut off.

“Come on y/n don’t be so chicken!” Hook laughs. You look at hades and he sends you back with a raised brow.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” You say. Uliana breaks into a wicked grin. The bell chimes.

“Great. It’s almost first period, why don’t you hop along,” she finishes and motions for you to leave with her hand. You nod, grab the beans, and rush to class.

You decide you have to tell Bridget, even if it might leave you without any friends.

You get to Honors Alchemy 2 just in the nick of time, meeting Bridget at the front. She squeals and gives you a hug. You awkwardly pat her back and look around.

When she pulls away her smile disappears. You take a deep breath.

“Bridget…” you start with a gulp, “I may have gotten myself into trouble.” She gasps.

“Not yet,” you continue, it’s- well. Uliana gave me some magic beans and told me to put them in your room as some sort of prank. I know how evil it is and I’m really sorry.” You said it so fast you had to take a big inhale. Bridget softens.

“Sugar, it’s okay,” she grabs your arm.

“I just don’t know what to do. I mean, they’re my only friends other than you and- well I fear going against- he won’t like- oh.” You pause, realizing Bridget deserves to know of your situation eventually.

“It’ll be okay! But I might be a little confused, who’s he?” She gets that adorable big stare you love whenever she needs help. It makes you melt a little.

“Hades is… my uncle. Only him and Maleficent know. He is technically my guardian while he is on Olympic probation. My dad added me onto the punishment,” you whisper before chuckling bitterly. “I just worry he’ll get even more angry at me when we’re home.” You look down. Bridget stops it with a hand tilting your face to look at her.

“You should never have to worry about that. But wait, dad… as in?” She questions.

“Zeus… I’m a demigod…” you squeak. Her eyes bulge for a second.

“Do you have powers too!?” She almost yells. You shush her.

Professor Merlin clears his throat,

“Ladies, class must begin. I do hope you’ll keep the chatter to a minimum.” He grumbles, not too angrily, however.

“Yes, um could we maybe talk more about this after school? I still have no clue how I’m to go about this,” you request. She nods enthusiastically. The rest of class you focus on getting a good lab grade and do in fact keep the chatter to a minimum. Bridget seems excited the whole time but you just feel awful still for getting mixed up in this mess.

***

When you were done with your classes for the day, you met up with Bridget in her room. You waited nervously before knocking.

When you did she opened the door with a smile.

“Come on in!” She says. She looks adorable in her pink pjs, they fit her personality to a t.

You walk in and she grabs your hands to lead you to her bed.

“So…” she chuckles awkwardly, “do you know what you’re gonna do?” You look down and sigh.

“I had an idea I guess. I was thinking maybe I hide the beans and just try avoiding the group as much as possible. If they say anything I’ll just match their energy and tell them I don’t wanna do the prank or hang out with them. Does that sound good?” You question. Any input would be useful.

Bridget yums but nods, “As long as you’re safe I don’t see why that plan wouldn’t work.” She taps her fingers on her leg.

“Thanks B, I’m a little nervous but everything will work out. Um, anything you wanna know about the whole demigod thing. I’m really sorry for not telling you. I just wanted to be somewhat normal.” You admit sheepishly. She gives you a soft smile.

“Normal is boring, but I understand. Just tell me anything you want to” she resolves. She grabs your hand and holds it.

You take a deep breath, “Well, I age normally, I have these little sparky things when I get really angry but other than that I get hurt the same as everyone else. I don’t really have any more powers than that though. I’m not magic like you are,” you add.

“What about your family,” you get a little bit more sad at that.

“Or, y-you don’t have to tell me!” Bridget fixes.

“No I can tell you. I’m not really allowed on Olympus that much. My mother died when I was really young, hence why Hades is hosting me. He can be chill. He likes doing evil things a lot but he usually doesn’t have a care about anything.” Bridget looks at you and gives you a hug.

“I’m so sorry Y/n, it must still be hard. But the sparky thing is really cool. Maybe I’ll get to see it one day!” She says. You smile.

“Maybe.”

She gasps making you jump a little with how loud it was.

“Hey I have an idea,” she says, “why don’t we go out and get some ice cream!” She squeals and stands up. She pulls you up with a sudden strength, twirling you into her. You both start giggling.

“That sounds very nice Princess B. You know all the ways to my heart.

****

Gapetto’s Gelato was in walking distance in the nearby town. You and Brigette talk about school and a bunch of other random things, giggling and having such a good time. You didn’t even realize you were there.

“Okay I’ll get the ice cream, Strawberry with rainbow sprinkles still?” You ask and she nods.

You go up to the window and go to order it, as soon as you open your mouth you hear very familiar voices behind you. You whip around to see Uliana holding Bridget’s purse way above her head.

“Relax Bridgy, we just want some money to buy icecream! You should understand since you love sweets so much. You should be careful anyways, you might be looking chubby!” Uliana spits, waving it just out of her reach. Your skin prickles. You walk away and shout out a sorry to Gapetto.

“I’ll be back.”

“Uliana come on, just give me my bag. You’re gonna break it!” Bridget stresses. She’s stopped trying to jump for it.

“What, too much exercise? Told you you’re getting chubby!” Hook cackles. Your skin now feels like it’s on fire and you tense up. A faint buzzing can be heard.

“Give. It. Back.” You grit through your teeth. Bridget looks at you, you can’t tell if she wants you to stay out of it or not but either way you’re helping her.

“Oh! Looks like you were doing what you were supposed to, for once. Well, i rather mess with her myself. Your services are no longer required.” Uliana says while another one of her tentacles pushes Bridget hard on the ground.

“The moneys not even in there,” Bridget whimpers. As if lightning courses through your vains you stand up straight and try to hold back. You can feel the sparks forming up your arms.

“I’m giving you one chance Uliana, leave now,” you stomp your foot.

“Ugh, why are you acting like this. Here; take your ugly bag pink piggy,” Uliana says as she hurls it at her. Bridget looks so scared but you manage to catch it by the strap just in time. Uliana cackles. Bridget looks like she’s about to cry and you look down to see it completely ripped.

“Oops… oh well, it was almost as ugly as y-“ before Uliana can finish what she says, you blast a huge lightning bolt at her feet causing her to yelp. “Oh you little shit!” Uliana tries to slam a tentacle into you, you grab it and it spasms away. She lets out another yelp. You hold up your burnt fists at her.

“Try it again fish for brains. I never want to see you around Bridget again. I’m done being your pawn. Bridget is more genuine and beautiful than you could ever be. She’s smart and kind and the best goddamn baker there is and even if she were to get chubby, which she’s not! She would be so much hotter than you on any given day!” You scream. She just rolls her eyes and backs up.

“Fine freak,” she says and walks (stumbles) away with a cackling Hook. You whip around and make sure all of the energy is dispelled. Since you aren’t raging right now it is but you hold out a hand to Bridget. She grabs it and you try not to wince at the sting when you pull her up.

“Woah that was- thank you! No one’s ever done that for me before.” Bridget says incredulously. She pulls you by your arms into a kiss. “I love you- Y/n?!” Is the last thing you hear before fainting.

***

When you awake you are in Bridget’s dorm, feeling sore as shit. Bridget here’s shuffling and immediately rushes over to your side.

“Hey there sugar,” she says softly. “I take it that your powers did this?” She carefully picks up your bandaged hands. You chuckle.

“Yup, cursed with a painful gift. I’m sorry for them. If I had known they were always such assholes to you, I would’ve made her into fried calamari sooner.” You giggle. Bridget smiles.

“Well; I hope you never have to do that to yourself again. But… you were- ARE amazing. I love you so much already.” Bridget kisses you on the cheek.

“Can we cuddle. I feel so much better and I just want cuddles please?” You whine, give her your biggest puppy dog eyes. Despot looking very disheveled, Bridget can’t deny how adorable you look. She chuckles and nods, carefully peeling back your blankets and getting in next to you.

“I’m sorry about your bag,” you sigh.

“Don’t be, I’m a princess remember? I can get another one anytime,” she chuckles. You feel like smacking your head. Of course she can, she’s rich.

“Oh. Well, can we make out until my headache goes away?” You instead ask. Once again, making the puppy dog eyes.

“Of course my heart! How long do they usually last?” She asks. You sheepishly grin.

“A couple of days,” you reply, trying to wiggle your eyebrows.

“Well, we better get started then.” She grips your chin softly and gives you a peck before going into the real kiss. Her lips taste like the color pink and sugar and you can’t help but feeling you only ever need her. Princess Bridget will forever be known as the love of your life.

[estapa-edwards]

can you do something with ryan leonard. like best friend to lover. something with angst maybe because ryan or trader is seeing somebody else. with slight smut maybe. thank youuu!

YOU BELONG WITH ME - R. LEONARD

Ryan leonard x reader

word count: 5.9k

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n. slight smut

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

It was one of those brisk autumn days when the leaves crunched underfoot and the sky was a clear, piercing blue. The Boston College campus buzzed with activity, students rushing to classes, laughter echoing across the quad. Y/N made her way to Conte Forum, where the Eagles were set to have their afternoon practice. She pulled her jacket tighter against the chill, her mind racing as it always did when she was about to see Ryan Leonard.

Ryan and Y/N had been best friends since freshman year, a bond forged over late-night study sessions, endless coffee runs, and a mutual love for hockey. Ryan, with his boyish grin and effortless charm, was the star forward for the BC Eagles, while Y/N was pursuing a degree in sports medicine, often helping out the team with injuries and recovery.

Their friendship had always been easy, natural, and unforced. They shared everything, from their hopes and dreams to their fears and insecurities. But lately, things had begun to change. Y/N found herself drawn to Ryan in ways that went beyond friendship, her heart fluttering whenever he was near. She tried to push these feelings aside, convincing herself that it was just a phase, a crush that would eventually fade. But the more time she spent with Ryan, the stronger her feelings grew.

There was just one problem. Ryan was seeing someone.

--- --- --- 

Practice was in full swing by the time Y/N arrived. She stood by the boards, watching as Ryan skated across the ice with a grace that never failed to take her breath away. He was completely in his element, the puck seemingly glued to his stick as he weaved in and out of his teammates. The coach barked orders, the sound echoing through the arena, but Ryan was focused, determined.

As practice wrapped up, Ryan skated over to where Y/N was standing. He flashed her a smile that made her heart skip a beat. "Hey, Y/N. What brings you here today?"

Y/N shrugged, trying to appear casual. "Just wanted to see my favorite hockey player in action. Plus, I have some new tape for your ankle. Thought you might need it."

Ryan's eyes lit up. "You're the best, you know that?" He hopped over the boards, landing lightly on his feet. "I could use a break anyway. Want to grab some coffee?"

"Sure," Y/N replied, her heart doing somersaults. "Coffee sounds great."

They made their way to the campus coffee shop, falling into an easy conversation about classes, upcoming games, and everything in between. But there was a tension simmering beneath the surface, an unspoken question that hung in the air.

"So," Ryan said, breaking the silence as they sat down with their drinks. "I wanted to tell you something."

Y/N's stomach twisted. She had a feeling she knew what was coming, but she forced herself to smile. "What's up?"

"It's about Jenna," Ryan began, referring to the girl he had been seeing for the past few months. "Things are starting to get serious between us."

Y/N felt a pang of jealousy but masked it with a nod. "That's great, Ryan. I'm happy for you."

Ryan studied her for a moment, his brow furrowing. "Are you sure? You don't seem that happy."

Y/N forced a laugh. "Of course, I'm happy. Why wouldn't I be?"

Ryan reached across the table, his hand covering hers. "Y/N, you're my best friend. I need you to be honest with me."

Y/N swallowed hard, the weight of her unspoken feelings pressing down on her. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she squeezed his hand and forced another smile. "I'm fine, really."

--- --- --- 

As the weeks went by, Y/N couldn't help but notice how Jenna seemed to be everywhere she used to be. It started small—little things like seeing Ryan and Jenna studying together at the library, where she and Ryan used to spend countless hours. But it grew more significant, and with each passing day, Y/N felt her presence in Ryan's life being overshadowed by Jenna.

One afternoon, Y/N made her way to Conte Forum, her usual spot to catch Ryan after practice. But instead of finding him alone or with his teammates, she saw Jenna sitting in the stands, waving and smiling as Ryan skated over to her. Y/N's stomach twisted, a familiar pang of jealousy gnawing at her insides. She forced a smile and waved back, but her heart wasn't in it.

"Hey, Y/N!" Ryan called out, his face lighting up when he saw her. "Come join us!"

Y/N walked over, trying to hide the unease that threatened to overwhelm her. "Hey, guys. How was practice?"

"Great, but exhausting," Ryan replied, taking a seat next to Jenna and draping an arm around her shoulders. "Jenna brought me some snacks to refuel."

Y/N's smile wavered. "That's nice of you, Jenna."

Jenna beamed, leaning into Ryan. "I know how hard he works. Just wanted to show my support."

Y/N nodded, feeling like an outsider in a space that used to feel like home. "Well, that's great. I just came to drop off the new tape for your ankle, Ryan."

"You're a lifesaver, Y/N," Ryan said, standing up to give her a quick hug. But as he pulled away, his attention immediately shifted back to Jenna.

"Thanks, Y/N," Jenna said, her smile polite but distant. "We'll see you later, okay?"

Y/N nodded, her throat tight. "Yeah, sure. See you guys later."

--- --- ---

The pattern continued. Y/N found herself increasingly excluded from the moments she had once cherished with Ryan. Jenna was there at every turn—at their favorite coffee shop, at study sessions, even at the casual hangouts with the team. Y/N tried to tell herself that it was natural for Ryan to spend more time with his girlfriend, but the jealousy gnawed at her, a constant reminder of what she was losing.

One evening, as Y/N was heading to the library, she saw Ryan and Jenna sitting in the corner booth that had always been her and Ryan's spot. They were laughing, their heads close together, and Y/N felt a sharp stab of jealousy. She turned to leave, not wanting to intrude, but Ryan spotted her.

"Y/N! Over here!" he called out, waving her over.

Y/N forced a smile and walked over, her heart heavy. "Hey, you two. What's up?"

"We're just studying for the upcoming exams," Ryan said, pulling out a chair for her. "Join us?"

Y/N hesitated, feeling like an intruder. "I don't want to interrupt. You guys look busy."

"Nonsense," Jenna said, her tone cheerful but with an edge that Y/N couldn't ignore. "There's always room for you, Y/N."

Y/N sat down, but the dynamic was different. The easy rapport she shared with Ryan was strained, replaced by Jenna's presence. Y/N tried to focus on her work, but her mind kept wandering, the jealousy festering like an open wound.

As the evening wore on, Y/N felt more and more like a third wheel. Jenna and Ryan had their own inside jokes, their own rhythm that Y/N couldn't penetrate. She watched them, feeling a mix of sadness and anger. She wanted to say something, to reclaim her place in Ryan's life, but fear held her back.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Ryan asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

Y/N forced a smile, her heart aching. "I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."

"You should get some rest," Jenna said, her voice smooth and reassuring. "We'll catch up later."

Y/N nodded, gathering her things. "Yeah, I think I'll do that. See you later."

As she walked away, Y/N felt a tear slip down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, not wanting anyone to see. The jealousy burned inside her, but she didn't know how to confront it, how to tell Ryan that she felt like she was losing him.

She made her way back to her dorm, the weight of her unspoken feelings pressing down on her. She loved Ryan, but she was terrified of ruining their friendship, of pushing him away even further. So, she kept her jealousy hidden, burying it deep inside, and hoped that somehow, things would go back to the way they used to be.

But deep down, she knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

--- --- ---

Y/N sat on her bed, staring blankly at her open textbook. The words blurred together, her mind unable to focus. The past few weeks had been torture, watching Jenna slip into every corner of Ryan's life, replacing her. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but every time she tried, the words caught in her throat.

A sudden knock on her door jolted her out of her thoughts. She wasn't expecting anyone, but she had a sinking feeling she knew who it was. She opened the door to find Ryan standing there, his face a mix of concern and frustration.

"Ryan? What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice shaky.

"Can I come in?" he asked quietly.

Y/N stepped aside, letting him in. The tension in the room was palpable as they stood there, neither of them knowing how to begin.

"Y/N, what's going on?" Ryan finally asked, his eyes searching hers. "You've been acting so strange lately. Are you okay?"

Y/N forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside her. "I'm fine, Ryan. Just busy with school, that's all."

Ryan shook his head, his frustration evident. "No, it's more than that. You're my best friend. I can tell when something's bothering you. Please, just talk to me."

Y/N swallowed hard, the weight of her unspoken feelings pressing down on her. She turned away, unable to meet his gaze. "There's nothing to talk about, Ryan."

Ryan stepped closer, his voice soft but insistent. "Y/N, you're shutting me out. I need to know what's wrong. Did I do something to upset you?"

The question pierced her heart, and she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. She wanted to tell him everything, to pour out her heart, but the fear of losing him held her back. Anger and frustration bubbled to the surface, and she couldn't hold back any longer.

"Oh, I'm shutting you out?" Y/N snapped, her voice rising. "Please, Ryan. I haven't even seen you without Jenna in weeks. And I don't want to third wheel."

Ryan's eyes widened in shock. "Y/N, that's not fair. Jenna's my girlfriend. Of course, I spend time with her."

"But what about us?" Y/N shot back, her voice trembling with emotion. "We used to do everything together. Now it feels like I don't exist to you unless she's around."

Ryan ran a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. "Y/N, I didn't mean for it to be like this. Jenna's important to me, but so are you."

Y/N laughed bitterly, wiping away a tear. "It doesn't feel that way. It feels like I'm being replaced, like I don't matter anymore. I miss you, Ryan. I miss us."

Ryan's face softened, and he took a step closer, his voice gentle. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I never wanted to make you feel this way. You're my best friend, and I care about you so much."

"Do you?" Y/N asked, her voice breaking. "Because it doesn't feel like it. It feels like I'm losing you, like I'm just an afterthought now that Jenna's in the picture."

Ryan reached out, but she pulled away, the pain too raw. "I don't want to lose you, Y/N. You're one of the most important people in my life. I need you to believe that."

"How can I believe that when everything's changed?" Y/N said, her tears falling freely now. "When I'm not the one you turn to anymore?"

Ryan's face crumpled, and he took another step closer, his voice pleading. "Please, Y/N. I don't want to lose you. Tell me what I can do to fix this."

Y/N looked at him, her heart breaking. She wanted to believe him, to trust that things could go back to the way they were, but the fear and jealousy were too strong. "I don't know if you can," she whispered. "I don't know if anything will ever be the same."

Ryan stood there, his eyes filled with sadness and desperation. "Y/N, please. You're my best friend. I can't lose you."

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I need time, Ryan. I need to figure out how to deal with this. I don't know if I can just pretend everything's okay."

Ryan nodded slowly, his expression pained. "I understand. Just... don't shut me out completely. Please."

Y/N nodded, her heart heavy. "I won't. I promise."

As Ryan left, Y/N sank to the floor, her body wracked with sobs. She had finally told him the truth, but it felt like she had shattered something precious. The weight of her unspoken feelings had been lifted, but the fear of losing him remained, a constant, gnawing ache.

--- --- --- 

In the days that followed, Y/N found it increasingly difficult to stick to her promise. Every time she saw Ryan, the pain of their conversation and the rawness of her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She started avoiding places where she knew he would be, skipping their usual study sessions and avoiding the coffee shop they frequented. She even altered her routes around campus, anything to keep her heart from breaking all over again.

Ryan, for his part, tried to give her space, but his concern for her was evident. He sent her texts, asking how she was and if they could talk, but Y/N couldn't bring herself to respond. Each message felt like a reminder of what she had lost, and she couldn't face the reality of their changed relationship.

One afternoon, Y/N was walking back to her dorm when she saw Ryan and Jenna coming from the opposite direction. Panic surged through her, and she quickly ducked into a nearby building, pressing herself against the wall. She watched as they walked past, Ryan's arm around Jenna's shoulders, both of them laughing about something. The sight was like a punch to the gut, and Y/N had to fight to keep her tears at bay.

She slipped out of the building after they were gone and made her way back to her dorm, her heart heavy with a mixture of jealousy and despair. She knew she was breaking her promise to Ryan, but the thought of seeing him with Jenna was too much to bear. It felt like every time she saw them together, a piece of her heart was being ripped away.

That evening, Y/N was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, when her phone buzzed. It was another text from Ryan.

Ryan: "Y/N, we need to talk. Please."

Y/N stared at the message, her finger hovering over the screen. She wanted to respond, to tell him everything she was feeling, but the fear of losing him completely kept her silent. She turned off her phone and rolled over, tears streaming down her face.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N continued to avoid Ryan at all costs. She threw herself into her studies, hoping to distract herself from the ache in her heart. But no matter how hard she tried, the void left by Ryan's absence was impossible to fill.

One evening, as she was leaving the library, she saw Ryan standing outside, waiting for her. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she considered turning back, but it was too late. He had seen her.

"Y/N, wait," he called, his voice filled with a mix of relief and frustration.

She stopped, her body tense, as he approached. "Ryan, I..."

He held up a hand, cutting her off. "Please, just let me talk."

Y/N nodded, her eyes downcast.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Ryan asked, his voice tinged with hurt. "I thought you said you wouldn't shut me out."

Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she needed to say. She looked up at Ryan, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I'm sorry, Ryan," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can't do this anymore."

Ryan's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Y/N shook her head, tears threatening to spill over. "I mean... I think it's better if we're not friends anymore."

Ryan's expression shifted from confusion to shock. "Y/N, no. You can't mean that."

"I do," Y/N replied, her voice breaking. "It hurts too much, Ryan. Every time I see you with Jenna, it feels like my heart is being torn apart. I can't keep pretending that everything's okay when it's not."

Ryan took a step closer, reaching out to touch her arm, but she flinched away. "Y/N, please. We can work through this. I don't want to lose you."

Y/N's emotions boiled over, her voice rising in desperation. "Please, Ryan, I can't do this!"

"Why are you doing this?" Ryan's voice matched her intensity, a mixture of confusion and frustration.

"Because, Ryan," Y/N yelled back, tears streaming down her face. "Because I love you!"

Ryan froze, his hand dropping to his side as he stared at her in shock. The words hung in the air between them, heavy with the weight of unspoken truth.

Y/N wiped angrily at her tears, her chest heaving with emotion. "I've tried to bury it, to ignore it, but I can't pretend anymore. Every time I see you with Jenna, it tears me apart inside."

Ryan stood there in stunned silence, unable to form a coherent response to Y/N's emotional outpouring. Her words echoed in his mind, each one piercing through the confusion and shock that gripped him.

Y/N wiped angrily at her tears, her voice raw with pain. "I never meant for this to happen. I never planned on falling for you, but damn it, you crept into my thoughts, into my dreams, and now you're embedded in my heart like a relentless thorn. I see the way you smile at her, the way you laugh, and it feels like a thousand knives stabbing me in the chest."

Her voice cracked with emotion, but she pushed on, her words pouring out like a floodgate opened. "Do you have any idea how it feels to want someone so much it hurts? To know that every smile you give to Jenna is a stab in my gut because I wish it were for me? I've tried to ignore it, to bury these feelings deep down, but they keep clawing their way back to the surface."

Ryan's chest tightened with guilt and regret as he listened, absorbing the full weight of Y/N's confession. Her pain was palpable, her vulnerability cutting through him like a knife.

"I can't help but remember how it all started — those late-night conversations that stretched into dawn, the way you looked at me with such understanding and kindness. It felt like we were the only two people in the world, like we shared something special."

Y/N's voice trembled now, her words filled with longing and sorrow. "And now? Now you're with her, and I'm left here grappling with this unbearable ache, this longing that won't let me breathe. I hate that I love you this fiercely, this desperately. It's tearing me apart, but I can't turn it off. Every fiber of my being screams your name."

Ryan's throat tightened, his heart breaking for Y/N and the pain he had inadvertently caused. He struggled to find the right words, to offer some solace or explanation, but his mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Unable to bear the weight of her gaze, Ryan turned away, his footsteps heavy and filled with regret. He couldn't face her right now, couldn't confront the truth of what she had laid bare. Leaving was the only thing he could think to do, a temporary reprieve from the intensity of the moment.

Y/N watched him go, her tears falling unchecked now, a mixture of relief and despair washing over her. She had finally spoken her truth, had bared her soul to him, and now she was left alone with the echoes of her own words.

As Ryan disappeared from view, Y/N sank to the ground, her sobs echoing in the empty space around her. She had known this outcome was a possibility, but the reality of it still cut deep. Love had brought her to this precipice, where the only path forward was through the pain.

--- --- --- 

After Ryan had abruptly left following their emotional confrontation, Y/N found herself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. She hadn't expected Will and Gabe, Ryan's friends and teammates, to approach her about his absence. They were also her friends, having shared countless moments on and off campus together. Now, they stood before her, concern etched on their faces.

Gabe was the first to speak up, his voice laced with worry. "Hey, Y/N. Have you heard from Ryan? He's been off the grid for a couple of days now, and we're getting a bit worried."

Will nodded in agreement, his brow furrowed. "Yeah, he's missed a few practices too. Is everything okay between you two?"

Y/N hesitated, unsure of how much to disclose. She and Ryan had always been close, and his absence was weighing heavily on her conscience. "We... had a disagreement," she finally admitted, choosing her words carefully. "Things got complicated."

Gabe exchanged a glance with Will, both of them sensing the gravity of the situation. "Do you want to talk about it?" Gabe asked gently, his concern palpable.

Y/N shook her head, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips. "I wish I could, but... it's between Ryan and me. I think he just needs some space right now."

Will nodded understandingly, though worry lines remained etched on his face. "If you hear from him, could you let us know? We just want to make sure he's okay."

"Of course," Y/N replied softly. "I'll keep an eye out for him."

The three of them stood there for a moment, the unspoken tension hanging in the air. Y/N appreciated their concern, their loyalty to Ryan evident even in this difficult moment.

"Thanks, Y/N," Gabe said finally, offering a supportive smile. "We're here for you too, okay?"

Y/N nodded gratefully, touched by their gesture. "Thank you, both of you."

As Will and Gabe walked away, Y/N couldn't help but feel the weight of their unspoken questions and concerns. She knew she owed it to Ryan to give him the space he needed, but the ache in her heart reminded her of the fragile bond they had once shared.

Days turned into a week, and still, Ryan remained elusive. Y/N focused on her studies and tried to maintain a sense of normalcy, but her thoughts often drifted back to him. She wondered if he was hurting as much as she was, if he regretted their confrontation, if he even cared anymore.

--- --- --- 

Late one evening, as she sat alone in her dorm room, Y/N's phone buzzed with a text message. It was from Ryan.

Ryan: "Can we talk?"

Her heart skipped a beat as she read the message, uncertainty and hope warring within her. Without hesitation, she typed out her reply.

Y/N: "Yes. Where are you?"

The reply came almost immediately.

Ryan: "Meet me at our spot?"

Y/N's heart raced as she grabbed her jacket and headed out into the cool night air. She didn't know what would come of their meeting, but she knew she couldn't ignore the pull to see him again, to confront the unresolved feelings between them.

As she walked towards their designated meeting spot, Y/N couldn't help but wonder if this would be the moment everything changed, if they could find a way back to each other despite the heartache that had torn them apart.

As Y/N arrived at their spot, a secluded bench overlooking the campus lake, she found Ryan already waiting there, his silhouette outlined by the soft glow of the nearby lamppost. He looked up as she approached, his expression a mix of relief and uncertainty. They sat down side by side, the tension between them palpable.

"Ryan," Y/N began softly, her voice wavering slightly. "What happened? Why did you disappear like that?"

Ryan ran a hand through his hair, his eyes avoiding hers for a moment. "I needed time to think," he admitted quietly. "I... I didn't expect things to escalate the way they did between us."

Y/N nodded, her heart aching with the weight of unspoken words. "I didn't either," she confessed, her gaze fixed on the shimmering water below. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that."

Ryan turned towards her, his hand accidentally brushing against her thigh in the process. Y/N flinched slightly at the touch, a jolt of electricity shooting through her body. Ryan quickly withdrew his hand, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Y/N shook her head, trying to steady her racing heart. "It's okay," she managed to say, though her voice was unsteady.

Silence settled between them once more, broken only by the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. Ryan took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts.

"Y/N, I... I've been a mess these past few days," Ryan began, his voice filled with sincerity. "I didn't know how to face you after everything that happened. But I've realized something."

Y/N turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face for answers. "What is it, Ryan?"

Ryan hesitated for a moment, his fingers fidgeting nervously in his lap. "I can't stop thinking about you," he admitted finally, his voice tinged with desperation. "Even when I try to distract myself with hockey or hanging out with friends, you're always there, in the back of my mind."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, a glimmer of hope flickering to life within her. "Ryan..."

"No, please," Ryan interrupted, his hand tentatively reaching out again, this time resting gently on her thigh. "Let me finish."

Y/N swallowed hard, her breath catching in her throat as she looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity. She nodded silently, urging him to continue.

"You've always been in my mind," Ryan continued, his voice earnest. "I was just confused with my feelings. You mean so much to me, Y/N."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, her heart aching with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. Ryan's touch on her thigh sent a jolt of warmth through her, reminding her of the closeness they had once shared, and the possibility of what could be.

"I know I've hurt you," Ryan whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "And I'm sorry for that. I never wanted to cause you pain."

Y/N took a shaky breath, struggling to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "Ryan, I... I don't know if I can do this," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've been trying to move on, to accept that maybe we're better off as friends."

"No, Y/N, don't do this to me," Ryan pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. His hand tightened around hers, clinging to the fragile connection between them. "Please, don't shut me out. I can't lose you."

Y/N's heart ached at the anguish in Ryan's voice, the sincerity in his plea cutting through her resolve. She turned to look at him, tears glistening in her eyes as she struggled to find the right words.

"I don't want to shut you out," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "But I need to know... do you love me, Ryan?"

Ryan froze, his eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and realization. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Y/N's heart sank as she watched him struggle, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

"Dammit, do you love me?" Y/N pressed, her voice breaking with emotion. She needed to hear the truth, to know where they stood.

Ryan closed his eyes briefly, a myriad of emotions crossing his face. When he finally looked at her again, his gaze was intense and unwavering.

"Yes," Ryan said softly, his voice filled with conviction. "Yes, Y/N, I love you."

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat at his words, a rush of emotions flooding through her. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at him, the weight of uncertainty lifting off her shoulders.

"From the moment I saw you, god, Y/N, you make me crazy," Ryan continued, his voice filled with raw honesty. "But I love you crazy. You've poisoned me in a way you will never know."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening at his confession. She reached out, gently placing her hand over his heart, feeling its steady beat beneath her palm.

"Ryan," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I love you too. More than I ever thought possible."

Ryan closed his eyes briefly, savoring the moment, before opening them to meet her gaze once more. "I don't want to lose you," he admitted softly. "I've been a fool, trying to deny what's been right in front of me all along."

Y/N listened intently, her heart racing with anticipation as she waited for him to continue. Ryan took a deep breath, his voice tinged with relief and vulnerability.

"I broke up with Jenna," Ryan confessed, his eyes searching hers for understanding. "She already knew how I felt about you. She told me to confess, to stop pretending like I could be happy with anyone else."

Y/N felt a surge of emotions at his words, a mixture of surprise, relief, and a profound sense of hope. She reached out, taking his hand in hers, a silent gesture of reassurance and support.

"I'm glad you did," Y/N replied softly, her voice filled with warmth.

Ryan nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I couldn't keep denying how I feel," he admitted. "Not when you've always been the one who's been there for me, who understands me like no one else."

Y/N squeezed his hand gently, overwhelmed by the depth of his words and the sincerity in his eyes. "I've always cared about you, Ryan," she murmured. "More than I ever knew how to say."

Ryan leaned closer, his forehead resting against hers as he whispered, "I love you, Y/N. I've loved you for so long."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, her heart overflowing with love and gratitude. "I love you too, Ryan," she whispered back, her voice filled with certainty.

Y/N looked at Ryan, her heart still racing from their emotional conversation under the stars. The weight of their confessions hung in the air, and she felt a surge of courage and longing.

"Ryan," she began softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you want to come back to my apartment?"

Ryan met her gaze, his eyes reflecting a mixture of tenderness and desire. He took a moment to respond, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "Yes, Y/N," he said, his tone tinged with certainty. "I want to be with you."

A wave of relief washed over Y/N as she reached out to take his hand. "Let's go," she said, a small smile playing on her lips.

Together, they walked hand in hand through the quiet streets, their footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. The journey back to Y/N's apartment was filled with a comfortable silence, their hearts beating in sync with the promise of new beginnings.

As they approached her door, Y/N turned to Ryan, her eyes searching his for any lingering doubts. Instead, she found only warmth and affection mirrored back at her.

Ryan leaned in closer, brushing his lips against hers in a tender kiss.

--- --- --- 

The air between them crackled with unspoken desire as Y/N and Ryan stood in the dimly lit kitchen of her apartment. The weight of their shared confession hung heavy in the air, igniting a fire that had long smoldered between them.

Y/N leaned against the counter, her heart racing with anticipation. She could feel Ryan's intense gaze on her, his eyes darkened with a hunger that mirrored her own. The tension between them was palpable, a magnetic pull drawing them closer with each passing second.

Ryan closed the distance between them in a single stride, his hand coming to rest on the counter beside her, effectively trapping her against it. His touch sent a shiver down Y/N's spine, awakening a longing she could no longer deny.

"Y/N," Ryan murmured, his voice low and husky, filled with raw desire. "I've wanted this... wanted you... for so long."

Y/N met his gaze, her own eyes smoldering with need. Without a word, she reached up, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. Their lips crashed together in a desperate kiss, a collision of passion and pent-up longing.

Ryan's hands roamed over her body, his touch igniting sparks of electricity wherever it landed. Y/N gasped into his mouth, the sensation sending a rush of heat straight to her core. She arched against him, seeking more of his touch, more of the fire that threatened to consume them both.

Their kisses grew deeper, more urgent, as if they were trying to convey all their unspoken desires through the meeting of their lips. Ryan's hands traced the curve of Y/N's waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. He tasted of longing and promises, each kiss a declaration of the passion they had kept hidden for far too long.

Y/N's fingers fumbled with the buttons of Ryan's shirt, urgency driving her movements. She needed to feel his skin against hers, to erase any lingering doubts that this was real. Ryan groaned softly against her lips, his own hands moving with purpose as he lifted her up onto the counter, his body pressing intimately against hers.

Their breaths mingled, hot and ragged, as they explored each other with a fervor born of longing and newfound connection. Ryan's lips trailed down Y/N's neck, leaving a blazing trail of kisses that made her head spin. Every touch, every caress, fueled the flames of their desire until they burned brightly, consuming everything in their path.

In that moment, there were no more words, no more doubts. There was only the raw, unbridled passion that had simmered between them for so long, finally unleashed in a torrent of need and belonging.

And as they lost themselves in each other, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the heat of their bodies and the promise of a love that had waited patiently to be set free.

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 13, Uncomfortable - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, the last straw, arguing, violence, Sexually Explicit Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (angry/rough PIV, fingering, degradation kink), memories of past CSA, self harm, Bucky really, really fucks up.

Word Count: 4k

Previously On...: Tony sent you a very expensive apology gift.

A/N: Ya’ll are getting this early! Just one thing to say:

I am so, so sorry.

Coincidentally, this is getting posted on the day I'll be coming home from NoLa, so I'll arrive just in time to hear you all say how much you now hate me. Yay. -_-

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @doublejeon @pattiemac1

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, lost in the dark colors, the reflection of the moonlight over the water. The sound of the door opening broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see Bucky shuffle into the room. 

“Hey, sweets,” he said, toeing off his boots.

“Hey,” you said without emotion, turning your face back to  the painting.

“Whacha lookin’ at?” he asked, coming to sit next to you on the couch.

“Apology gift from Tony.”

“What’s he apologizing to you for?” God, you couldn’t even muster up the energy to be angry at him.

“Calling out your unhealthy obsession with Jade in front of the team,” you said, voice flat. 

“I do not have an unhealthy obsession with Vix,” Bucky said, annoyance coloring his words. “How many times do I have to tell you there’s nothing going on between the two of us before you start believing me.” 

“Maybe you should stop telling me there’s nothing and start actually acting like there’s nothing,” you said as you stood up. “Because honestly, I’m tired of hearing your empty words.” You began to walk away, but Bucky reached out and grabbed your arm.

“They aren’t empty, Pocket!” he said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it filled the room as if he’d shouted. “It fucking hurts like hell to hear you say that.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You couldn’t help the sarcasm that oozed from your voice now. “Your feelings are hurt now, so that changes everything. Let me put aside the pain I’ve been dealing with for months to reassure you.” You yanked your hand free from his grasp. “I’m exhausted, Bucky. Nothing is getting better. In fact, things are getting worse, and I keep pretending that I can be okay with things, but you just keep picking her over me, time and time again. I don’t deserve that. Not from someone who’s supposed to love me.”

“Pick her over you? That’s fucking bullshit and you know it,” he said, voice rising.

“Is it?” you asked him. You pointed to the corner where your overnight bags sat waiting for a trip you’d never take. “Is that bullshit, Bucky? Cause we were supposed to be in the Catskills right now, but because that fucking cunt came crying for you, you went running to her and left me sitting here, alone and forgotten. Again.”

“Pocket,” Bucky ran a hand over the back of his neck, a sure sign you were ruffling him. “She needed someone to support her. She’s not like you– she doesn’t–”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Barnes!” you interrupted, shouting now. “I’m trying to tell you that I’m breaking up with you because of her and you still just stand there and defend her!”

Bucky’s face paled and his eyes went wide. “No,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“What?” You weren’t sure you heard him.

“I said ‘no,’” he said, his voice louder, but still soft. “You're not breakin' up with me. Doll, please. I need you. You said you were gonna fight for us, fight for me. That’s what you said!”

“I’m so tired of fighting for you when you’re off fighting for her! I can’t do this anymore, Bucky,” you practically sobbed. “You are fucking destroying me and feel like you just. don’t. care. I can’t just sit here and let it keep happening. You say you need me, but you’ve made it clear time and time again that you don’t give a shit about what I need. Every time I’ve asked you to put a boundary between you and Carthage, you’ve stomped right over it. And I can’t keep living like this. Yesterday was supposed to be a celebration of one of the greatest accomplishments of my career, and she ruined it.”

“It wasn’t her fault she got bad intel!” Bucky shouted.

“Could you just FUCKING STOP?!” you screamed. “Stop defending her! She either royally fucked up or she set them up on purpose! Those are the only two options! Either way, the entire thing was her fault. Rhodey is unconscious– almost died– because of her! She’s got you so wrapped around her fucking finger that you can’t even see it, and I am SO. GOD. DAMNED. OVER. IT! You promised me you’d make it up to me,” you continued shouting at him. “You fucking promised! But as soon as she bats her lashes, your promises don’t mean shit! You keep making excuses, you keep saying you’re sorry, but you keep doing the same fucking thing over and over again, and the only thing your actions are promising is that she means more to you than I do!”

“That’s not true!” he shouted back at you. “You mean more to me than anything!”

“I don’t fucking believe you!” you screamed, your voice going hoarse.

“I’ll fucking prove it to you!” He grabbed your elbows and pulled you to him, kissing you with such force it would have knocked you over if he hadn’t been holding you up. The moment he broke the kiss for air, you slapped him across the face. Only to immediately kiss him again.

Within seconds, you were ripping at each other’s clothes, desperate to feel one another, skin to skin, your tongues battling against each other as though whomever could dominate the kiss could win your fight. Bucky literally tore your shirt in half before you pushed him down onto your bed. Crawling on top of him, you scratched your nails down his chest, hard enough to draw blood.

Bucky hissed into your mouth, reaching down to yank off his pants and boxer briefs. You hastily pulled them down and off his legs before climbing back up to his mouth. Your kisses were passionate, angry and feral, each of you trying to prove a point to the other. 

You felt both of Bucky’s hands grasp the waistband of your jeans and rip them open, sending the button and zipper teeth flying. “Those were my favorite fucking jeans,” you warned.

“I’ll buy you another pair,” he growled, shoving a hand into your panties and finding your clit. You arched your back as he pinched and rolled it between his fingers, the aggression in his movements igniting your blood. You gasped as he shoved two fingers into you while simultaneously flipping you so you were now on your back and he loomed above you.

He pulled his hand from you, leaving you aching and empty. He kissed you as he divested you of what was left of your jeans and your panties. “Taste yourself,” he said, shoving his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them, savoring the tang of your essence on his skin. Bucky groaned at the sight before pulling his fingers out and kissing you again. 

“You’re mine,” he growled, grabbing at your breasts and roughly kneading the flesh. “Look at me, Pocket. You’re mine.” You turned your head away, not wanting to meet his eyes, but Bucky would have none of it. Gripping your chin tight enough to leave a bruise, he yanked your head back so you were looking him in the eye. “I said, you’re mine.” He entered you then, the force of it nearly splitting you in half. “You’re mine and I’m fucking yours. Forever.”

He pounded into you as if his very life depended on it, and you clutched at his shoulders for dear life. “God, yes, Bucky,” you cried, all your resolve finally leaving you as the pleasure rose within you. “I’m yours, and you’re mine. Only mine. Only fucking mine!”

With a roar, Bucky picked up one of your legs and draped it over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to hit you deeper as he drove into you. His thrusts were punishing, as though he were trying to see just how deep he could get himself inside of you before you actually broke in two.

"You like that?" he murmured as he rutted his hips into you.

"Fuck, yes, please, Bucky-- just like that," you moaned. He had you close. So, so close. "Keep going."

"Yeah, I thought so, you dirty slut," he grunted.

"What?" you asked, pulling your head back into the pillow so you could stare at him, wide-eyed as he continued to pound relentlessly into you. His words had taken you aback-- this was not something your loving boyfriend had ever said to you before. You dropped one leg from around his waist and tried to pull the other from his shoulder.

"Knew you loved taking my cock. God, you're such a filthy whore for me."

"Bucky, stop." You pushed gently against his chest, but he was already so far gone to his lust that he didn't seem to hear you.

"Such a good fucktoy for me," he grunted, his pace quickening as he neared his release. You felt your breath coming hard and fast now, but not from your impending climax, which had died with his words, but from an oncoming anxiety attack. “You goin’ dumb on me already, like a good little cockslut?”

Flashes of your miserable childhood flickered through your head, the way Darren would call you his "good little money-making whore" after you'd been raped by yet another of his clients, or when he decided to violate you himself, calling you his own personal slut, his special fuck toy.

"Bucky," you shouted, punching him with your fists, desperate now to get him off you, out of you. "Stop! Get off of me! GET OFF OF ME!" You screamed, thrashing at him. You saw the moment your words registered-- his eyes lost their haze of lust and his hips stopped pumping into you.

"Doll?" he asked, looking down on you in confusion. "What's wr--"

"Get off me, get off me, get off me!" you shrieked as you rolled out from under him, your entire body suddenly on fire with shame and disgust. The second your feet hit your bedroom floor, you were reaching for your silk robe, wrapping yourself in it as though the thin fabric could protect you from his words. From him.

"Pocket," Bucky watched your movements, his eyes betraying his bewilderment at your actions. "What's going on? What did I do?"

"Why would you call me that?" you asked, your words coming out in between your desperate gasps for air. "Why would you say those things?"

Bucky sat up, reaching for you, but you moved away from him. "Baby, what things? What did I s--" Realization dawned on him then, and his entire face fell. "Shit. Oh, God. Oh, Pocket. Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I didn't think--"

"Why would you say that, Bucky?" you asked, fighting back the tears that so desperately wanted to break free. "You've never called me a-a-..." you couldn't even get the word out. "How could you do that?"

"Fuck, Baby..." Bucky began, running his hands through his hair in response to your distress, "I never... I thought you'd like it. I should have realized, after Darren..."

"Don't say his name!" You hadn't meant to shout at him, but you were damned if you were going to invite the ghost of your tormentor into the sanctuary of your room. "Please," you cried, "don't say his name."

Bucky got up and tried to wrap his arms around you, but you pulled away, feeling too vile, too dirty, to even let him touch you.

"Sweetheart, please," he began, reaching for you again, "you're shaking. Let me hold you." You shook your head as you moved away from him yet again, trying to steady yourself.

"Where did that even come from, Bucky? Why would you think... What would even make you think that was something I would want?"

Bucky's hand went to rub the back of his neck as he looked up at you from behind his lashes. "I... I heard girls... like that sort of thing. That it turns them on."

"You can't just start it out of nowhere," you cried, "It's something you need to agree on first! You can't just say it without making sure your partner's okay with it! And I can't believe you'd ever think I would be okay with it! God, who even told you that?" You couldn't imagine any of Bucky's friends saying something like that to him; hell, Steve would have a coronary before even suggesting it. Did he read about it in some degrading kink group online?

"I was talking to Vix, and she said--"

"You what?" you spun to face him, your words sharp in your shock.

"Vixen. Jade. I was talking to her during training one time and she said girls like it when guys talk to them like that during sex. Well, she said she likes it. Said it, uh, turns her on."

Your entire body froze as if you'd been doused with ice water. "You were talking to Jade Carthage about sex and what gets her off." Your voice was hard and clipped. It wasn't even a question, just a statement that made your stomach twist, but you had to make sure you had understood him correctly.

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds bad," Bucky hemmed, "but sweets, I swear, it wasn't like that."

You called for FRIDAY to turn up the lights, no longer wanting to be trapped in the intimacy of the semi-darkness with him.

"It wasn't like that? Then please enlighten me, Bucky, what was it like? Jesus, how did you two even stumble into that conversation in the first place?"

"Baby," Bucky looked frantic as he grabbed his boxer briefs from the floor and tugged them back on, "I don't even remember how we got on the subject. We were sparring and I pinned her and--"

"You had a conversation about sex while you were lying on fucking top of her?" You could barely contain your rage; you were seething, about to vibrate out of your skin with revulsion.

"Honey, it's not that big of a deal, really."

"Not that big of a deal?" you asked, knowing you were about to tread into some very dangerous territory, but needing him to understand you. "So, it wouldn't be that big of a deal if I let Steve get on top of me and had him tell me what gets him hard? What makes him come?"

Bucky's jaw tightened immediately at the mention of Steve. "Don't," he growled. "Do not bring him into this. It's completely different."

"It's not, Bucky! It's a thousand times worse! God," you threw your arms above your head as you began to pace in front of your bed. "I can't tell if you're actually this naive or if you think I'm fucking stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid, Pocket," Bucky's voice was quieter now, more restrained. "I... God, I just messed up. I'm an idiot. I didn't think it through and..." He trailed off and slumped onto the edge of the bed, his hands pushed into his hair as he stared down at the floor.

You could see his muscles craving to pull you back into his arms, but he resisted. His eyes flickered to you before darting away again, like looking at you caused him physical pain.

"Do you want to sleep with her? Were you imagining her while you were fucking me?" It was a reckless question to ask--a question that you didn’t want the answer to--but it slipped out before you could stop it.

Bucky's head whipped up, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at you. "What? No!" He stood abruptly, hands outstretched towards you. "Baby, no! God, no! I would never... I can't even believe you'd think... Don't even talk like that."

"But you took her kinks, her turn ons, and you brought them into our bed. You spoke words you knew another woman-- a woman you know I fucking loathe-- wanted to hear, you... you used them on me, knowing my history, and you didn't give a shit about what saying them might do to me!" Your voice was trembling with accusation, your body shaking with tremors of hurt and betrayal.

"No! No, sweetheart... it wasn't like that." He kept repeating himself, his words rushed, his face pale with shock and regret. "I didn't mean to disrespect you like that. I heard her say it and I thought... I mean, she's a woman too, right? So, if she liked it, I thought maybe you..." He trailed off, his expression one of sheer desperation as he tried to find the right words.

"But I'm not her. It wasn’t about pleasing me; it was about using what pleases her." You shook your head harshly, a lump forming in your throat. "You don't even see how wrong that is. And you shouldn't even have been having the conversation with her in the fucking first place!"

"What can I do?" Bucky pleaded, his voice a strained whisper as he raked his fingers through his hair again. His face was etched with pain, regret seeping from every pore of him. "How can I fix this? Tell me how to make it right."

But you were too overcome by anger and heartbreak to think straight. You moved further away from him, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you were trying to shield your heart from further damage.

“What did you tell her?” you asked, but Bucky looked at you with confusion etched across his face. “You said it was a conversation. I’m assuming she didn’t do all the talking. What did you talk about? Did you tell her what gets you off? What you like? Were you sharing intimate details about our sex life with a complete outsider? Did you tell her about your ‘sergeant’ kink?”

He didn’t need to speak for you to read the truth in the expression on his face.

The silence hung in the room, heavy and oppressive, as Bucky fought for words. A nerve twitched in his jaw, the only movement in his otherwise frozen face. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he finally spoke.

"I... Yes, I did," he admitted, his voice a mere whisper. "I didn't think it through. I didn't mean to... I just..."

His voice trailed off again and he sunk back onto the bed, looking completely defeated. His hands covered his face as if he were desperate to hide himself from your accusing gaze.

“Get out.” You couldn’t even stand to look at him. This was a betrayal beyond anything you’d ever have expected from him. 

Bucky’s head snapped up at your words, his eyes wide with shock. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He just sat there on the edge of the bed, staring at you as though he was seeing you for the first time.

"Get out," you repeated, each word a dagger. "I can't... I can't stand to even look at you right now."

Still, Bucky didn’t move. He just sat there in stunned silence, his face pale and his eyes filled with regret.

"I said get out!" Your voice was shrill, filling the room with a chilling echo that seemed to reverberate through every fiber of your being.

Bucky flinched at your tone, and finally roused himself to his feet. He looked at you one last time, his steel-blue eyes so full of pain that it made your heart ache despite everything. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something else, like he might try to explain, but you’d had enough of his ‘explanations’ for the evening. Hell, maybe for the rest of your life.

Bucky swallowed hard, his eyes filling with a mixture of fear and dread as he nodded slowly. "Okay... yeah," he stammered. "I'll give you some space."

“No. I can’t do this anymore. I’m done, Bucky. This… this is unforgivable. We’re finished.”

"Doll," he breathed, the pet name he had given you sounding like a prayer on his lips, but a curse to your ears. "I love you... I'm sorry. I messed up, I know. But I love you."

“I don’t believe you.” You felt like your heart was being ripped apart as you watched him standing there, consumed by remorse. You had never seen him like this before, his usual charismatic confidence replaced with fearful uncertainty.

“Just go,” you whispered, turning away so you wouldn't have to see the pain in his eyes. You felt a sob rising in your throat, but you held it back, refusing to let it out while he was still there.

With every inch of him screaming resistance, Bucky walked over to the door and hesitated at the threshold. "I'll... I'll do anything to make this right, sweetheart," he promised, his voice choked with emotion. "I'll fix this... We can fix this."

But you remained silent, your back still turned to him as you tried desperately to keep your tears at bay. The sound of the door opening and closing behind him was deafening in its finality.

You wrapped your arms around yourself tighter, suddenly feeling cold. The room was suddenly too big, too empty without Bucky's reassuring presence. You sunk onto the bed, burying your head in your hands as the events of the night washed over you with overwhelming force as you began to sob in earnest.

You weren't even sure what you were angriest about. He’d broken yet another promise and left you waiting, your romantic getaway forgotten so he could be by her side. He'd called you a slut and a whore. He’d discussed your sex life with Jade-- the one woman you hated above all others, and openly discussed her kinks with her, and his own desires in return. He'd forced her kinks on you without your consent.

And then there was the worst part of it all, the bit that made you feel sick and hollow: he'd failed to see what he'd done wrong.

You had thought Bucky knew you better, that he respected you more than this. You'd shared secrets and fears with him, things you'd never shared with anyone else, not even Tony. He knew your past, knew how much trust meant to you - knew how difficult it had been for you to open your vulnerabilities up to something more than just casual sex - and yet he'd violated that trust in such a profound way.

This was just beyond anything else that had come before it. You couldn’t see a way to move forward after this.

Numbly, you began to strip off the sheets from the bed, your hands shaking as you balled them up and threw them into a corner of the room. You couldn't sleep on them now, nor ever again. You couldn't bear the thought of lying down where he'd... where he'd...

Tears started to spill down your cheeks as the reality of what had happened set in. You tried to blink them away, tried to swallow down the lump in your throat. But it was too late. Tears blinded you as you moved through your space on muscle memory alone, grabbing a garbage bag from under the sink in the kitchenette and shoving the offending sheets into it to dispose of later. Boiling them in chlorine wouldn't be able to relieve them of the taint they now carried.

Once the offending sheets were securely bagged and out of sight, you stumbled your way into the bathroom. Turning the shower on as hot as it would go, you stripped from your robe and stepped under the scalding stream from the waterfall shower head.

Hissing as the water hit your body, you let yourself succumb to your emotions. You reached for your loofah and began scrubbing at your skin, doing everything in your power to wash away the intense feeling of shame that had permeated deep under your dermis. You scrubbed until your skin was red, until it was raw and cracked and bleeding, but it offered you no relief.

The sensations were familiar, the burning heat, the stinging of newly torn flesh. It had been so long since you had felt the need to ritually cleanse yourself like this, you had desperately hoped you'd finally found yourself beyond the need to do so, but just a few words from Bucky's mouth had sent you reeling backwards, back to being that worthless, vile, used up girl that no number of college degrees, fancy company titles, or board-approved computer programs could fully erase. It was in your DNA, and you couldn't escape it. You scrubbed and scrubbed until time had lost meaning.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[pjmmania]

If Snow Decides to Fall

2. “Hi, you.”

Chapter Warnings: Light smut, references to sex, pregnancy

Back to Chapter Index

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jimin had gotten out of bed before you, for once. His place on the bed was left a gathering of sheets, cold and crumpled.

After brushing your teeth and hair, you got into a cozy lounge set, and padded out of his bedroom, into the hallway. The sound of running water could be heard from the kitchen, so that's where you headed next.

He was still in his typical sleep attire - boxers and nothing else. His toned back was facing you, giving a view of the moons etched into his skin. He was filling up a pot in the sink to make French-press coffee when he heard your footsteps.

You were greeted with his hoarse, low morning voice, "Hey, you're up."

"Morning," you yawned, "You are up earlier than usual.”

He turned off the tap as you sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island, “Yeah, I didn’t sleep well honestly. Kind of hard when you find out your girlfriend’s pregnant.”

“I know, I didn’t sleep the greatest either,” you said prior to realizing, then your cheeks flushed a deep rose, “Wait, girlfriend?”

Jimin turned around and put the pot of water on the stovetop to boil. He was grinning at you handsomely, with hair slightly disheveled, “We hang out, have dinner together, watch movies, have lots of sex, and we love each other enough to have a kid together. I’d say we’re boyfriend and girlfriend now, if you’d like to be.”

You smiled back, “I suppose that’s reasonable.”

He rounded the corner of the grey marble top of the island, aiming straight for your lips. His kiss was short and sweet, exactly the kind you had grown accustomed to when it came to Saturday mornings with him.

“Would you like some coffee?” He asked before pecking your cheek.

You wrinkled your nose, “I’d love some, but unfortunately I probably should stick to decaf now.”

He pursed his plump lips together and hummed, “Oh shit, that’s right. Are you hungry at least? I can make the eggs you like.”

“Over easy?” you shook your head and laughed, “I don’t think I can have those either. They’re too raw.”

Jimin chuckled, bowing his head in defeat, “Scrambled then.”

“Thanks.”

He nodded and happily returned to the stove, getting out a pan and setting it on one of the burners. As he opened the fridge to get out a carton of eggs, he glanced back at you through slightly puffy eyes, “So aside from not being able to have your normal breakfast, is there anything else different?”

You propped your chin up in the palm of your hand, “You mean the symptoms? Well, it’s been kind of mild, to be honest. The only symptoms I’ve had so far are sore boobs and a little bit of spotting. Actually, now that I think about it, I might be sensitive to the smell of kimchi too. But that’s all.”

“I hope it continues to be relatively easy," Jimin cracked a few eggs into the pan, "But I'll be here for you if it gets worse. This reminds me of something important I thought about while you were sleeping - your key."

You tilted your head to one side, "My key?"

"To my apartment," he said, "You have it, but you always knock on the door and wait for me to let you in. From now on, please use it. Let yourself in, whether I'm here or not."

"Are you sure? I don't let myself in because I know how much you value your privacy."

He smirked, whisking the eggs to scramble them, "If I wanted privacy from you, I wouldn't have given you a key in the first place. Maybe you haven't noticed, but I really enjoy your company."

In an attempt to conceal how much of a sucker you were for his little flirtations, you pursed your lips together. Still, it was plain as day when he glanced at you. This flustered yet giddy expression was a habit of yours that he adored.

Jimin turned the heat up slightly on the stove before letting the eggs do their thing, "Besides, I want to be here for anything you need. My biggest fear with this whole thing is not being there like any decent father would be. It will be hard enough with my schedule."

You detected the insecurity on his face, "Don't worry. I promise I'll use the key from now on."

You scooted the stool backwards so you could get up. Then you made your way to the other side of the island, hugging him from behind. Your cheek pressed against his back.

He released a content sigh and twisted himself to face you, enveloping you in his chest instead. His lips kissed the top of your head, "It's interesting. I feel like one moment, it's really hitting me, and the next, it doesn't feel real."

"I know," your voice was slightly muffled against his skin, "I can't believe I'm going to be a mom."

Jimin had recollections of you playing with the kids of your coworker. He knew you had a loving, natural touch with children, "I've seen you with Chaeyoung's twins. You'll be an amazing mother."

You didn't know if you believed him with such immense pressures staring you down, but you smiled anyway, "And I've seen you with the managers' kids. I think you'll be an outstanding father."

He laughed a little nervously, "It feels so absurd applying the word 'father' to myself."

"But we'll get each other through it," you muttered, "Because we love each other, right?"

He smiled again, closing his eyes and cherishing the feeling of having you in his arms, "Exactly."

Both of you heard a little sizzle coming from the pan on the stove. Jimin chuckled, “I’d love to stay like this, but I don’t want to serve you burnt eggs.”

Eating breakfast that morning was slowed by both of your needs to talk this through some more. He had to leave for another recording session at noon, but there was still time to discuss some of the general things.

You told him about what your care provider told you, “Apparently, the best time for me to get an ultrasound is in the next couple of weeks. I’m assuming Doctor Baek will be able to give me a list of recommendations for obstetricians. I guess you wouldn’t be able to go…would you?”

“I hate to say it but I don’t know,” he said with his hands on his thighs, “We are due in Tokyo next week and will be there for eight days, doing various promotions and the Vogue shoot. This is going to be one of the biggest issues throughout this whole thing. Some things are easy to get out of, but others won’t budge. And even if I could make it to an appointment, how would I be able to explain my presence there?”

You don't know how you could have forgotten about the Tokyo trip. Sometimes, you attended trips like this, but a photoshoot as big as Vogue didn't require your assistance. They had quite a few of their own people for styling.

“That’s right,” you huffed in a slouch, “The doctors are legally prohibited from saying anything, but there’s no way we’d be able to avoid other patients and staff seeing you and talking.”

He swallowed a bite of food, nodding along, "It might be a stretch, but if we can get the ultrasound for this coming week, we can have the doctor come here. As you know, I leave my Friday evenings free when I'm in town."

"Here? You're comfortable with that?"

"Not entirely," he admitted, "But like you said, they can't say anything without risking losing their license. It makes sense for the sake of privacy, and it would allow us to squeeze it in between all of my commitments."

"That sounds nice, but I’m going to be swamped at work this week. We’re putting together your styling concept for the tour next year. Maybe we could find time after you get back from Japan.”

Jimin became more serious and put his hand on your knee, eyes firm, "Y/N, as much as I want to be there, let's not ignore the advice of the professionals. If it's better to get a read on you and the baby sooner rather than later, then don't wait for me.”

It was disheartening, but it was something you’d have to get used to. You wanted to do this, but it little about it would be normal. You had to make peace with that.

“Okay,” you sighed, “I’ll call today and see what’s available.”

He leaned forward to kiss your temple, “I’ll be excited to hear all about it, baby.”

You smiled at his touch, “Well that’s that. Now onto an even more pressing matter…”

He finished what was on his plate and took another sip of his coffee, “Which is?”

“Who are we going to tell about this?” You asked with raised brows, “Obviously no one at the company can know, at least not yet.”

“I’ll have to tell the guys at some point before you start showing, or they will figure it out on their own. And I know they would keep the secret for as long as we asked them to.”

You already felt mortified with that, but again, you had to get used to the awkwardness, “Alright. What about our parents?”

A twinge of guilt rang through him, like a child who was about to get a scolding. Jimin took his empty dished and got up to put them in the dishwasher, mumbling a cuss or two.

He said under his breath, “My parents would definitely come around, but they’ll also want to kill me.”

“Do they…know about us?”

The dishes clanked in the washer as he shuffled some things around, making room for the new ones, “I’ve told them I’ve been seeing someone and that things have been getting more serious. But they’d never see this coming. What about your parents?”

Your features sank, “They’d probably want to kill you too, no offense. I don’t think they’d be thrilled with the idea of their daughter having a baby with a popstar out of wedlock. It’s, uh…kind of a negative trope.”

“I get it,” Jimin then came over and took your dishes away for you, “Have you told them about us?”

You wanted to shrivel up and hide somewhere, “Not exactly…”

He was taken aback, “Really? Not a single thing?”

You sat on your hands and shrugged, “They’re as traditional as it gets, Jimin. They wouldn’t react kindly to me sleeping with you. They don’t even agree with the career I chose. Honestly, I don’t really speak with or see them that often. They live on the other side of the country.”

He could have been offended by the idea of your parents’ disapproval of him, but he wasn’t. Instead, he grinned, “Then I guess we have our work cut out for us.”

You half laughed, though you were more apprehensive than amused, “We certainly do.”

Jimin was the last to join the recording session. It wasn’t a big deal - the others started without him, taking turns in the booth.

When he entered the recording room, Jungkook was in the booth with headphones on, singing the lines in front of him. Yoongi and another producer were sitting at the panel, while all the others were either sitting on the couch or bean bags.

“There he is!” Hoseok called out with his classic mile-wide smile.

Taehyung covered his mouth, chuckling, “You look exhausted, hyung. Late night?”

Just because the work had begun didn’t mean he could escape a little teasing. It was normally alright with him. After all, they all knew about the affair, but his patience would be thinner than normal today. He was running on little sleep and just had his world shaken.

He faked a short laugh, but it didn’t travel all the way to his eyes, “Yeah, late night.”

Namjoon made room on the couch and he sat back onto the plush leather, letting his head lean all the way back. The leader and the others were glancing at one another with confused looks on their faces. It was typical for Jimin to be the last one to arrive, but once he showed up, he was in work mode. Right now, he looked somewhat out of it.

“Woah,” Jin said, “Must have been a really late night.”

The session lasted hours. Much to their surprise, Jimin never seemed to get into the groove. He recorded his parts well, but the intense focus was simply absent.

Jungkook, who had been with him the day before, already had a suspicion that this was about you.

Not only was this their brother who they passionately cared for, but they also had an important trip coming up. They needed to figure out what was going on.

When it was time to wrap up, the six members waited for the other producer to leave the room. It was only after that could they mention you by name. After all the years together, it was like they developed a form of telepathy. Something was up with their friend, and they moved in-sync to fix it.

Jimin was puzzled as to why no one was grabbing their things to leave.

Once they were isolated as a group of seven, Namjoon started the conversation from his same spot on the couch, “Let’s stay for a few minutes to talk about whatever’s going on.”

He knew it was about him, “I’m alright, guys. Really. Just exhausted.”

“Are you positive? Because you don’t just seem tired. You look withdrawn.” Jin said.

Trying to play it off coolly, he smirked, “That can happen when one gets tired.”

“Jimin, come on. It’s us,” Hoseok urged, “We just want to make sure you’re all good.”

“I am.” He gave the persuasion another go.

But it was to no avail. Jungkook spoke up next, leaning with his back against the wall, “I’m sorry, hyung, but I have to wonder if this is about that thing with Y/N yesterday.”

“What thing?” inquired Yoongi.

The youngest of the group looked to the man in question to give him a chance to respond, but when Jimin had nothing to say, he continued, “I was with him when we ran into her on our way back from the shoot. Their exchange was kind of weird and timid. Something between them was off.”

The others could definitely see how that would be strange. They’d all witnessed the two of you interact before, and it was always great. You gelled together so well, so effortlessly.

“Oh,” Taehyung took a much more sympathetic approach this time, “Are you guys going through a rough patch?”

He would have panicked that someone had heard that, but he watched the producer leave with his own eyes. It was all clear, “No. As I said to Jungkook yesterday, we are perfectly fine.”

They weren’t buying it. Their disbelieving faces made that painfully clear, but he couldn’t tell them the truth yet. Both of you would need some time to let this sink in and plan some things out. Still, he had to give them something, just to get them off his back.

Jimin sighed, “Okay, fine. I was going to tell you all when it felt like a good time and place, but something has changed between us. Recently, Y/N and I decided that we are going to start taking our relationship more seriously.”

“Soooo, what?” Jin asked, “You’re finally going to call yourselves a couple?”

“Yeah...I also told her I love her.”

Some of the guys hooted, others sighed out of pure relief. They thought this day would never come.

Yoongi chuckled, “That’s wonderful and all, Jiminie, but we all fucking knew it for months.”

“About time,” Taehyung beamed, “So she’s officially a girlfriend?”

Begrudgingly, knowing it would cause another mass tease, Jimin nodded, “Yes, she’s my girlfriend.”

Hoseok smirked, “So you’re exhausted because you’ve been pulling out all the stops, huh? Nice.”

“And he’s not focused because he’s got love on the brain.” Jungkook messed with his hair a bit. Jimin quickly brushed it back into place, rolling his eyes with a soft grin.

Oh, if only they knew what was actually on his brain at the moment, he thought. But it didn’t matter. He did what he needed to do for the time being. Now all he had to do was keep up the facade for a few more weeks, or until you and him mutually decided it was the right time.

All but one began to get their things together in preparation to leave. Namjoon felt another point needed to be made on this topic, but decided to let it go for now. It was getting close to dinnertime and they had made plans to order in at Jin's place. He would bring it up there.

Jin's apartment was so home-like and comfortable, which was why it was a common hangout spot for the group on nights like this. There was a feast of food in front of them to share and fill their stomachs. The soju was flowing, warming them up and loosening some tongues.

Jimin, for one, appreciated some semblance of normal life with his friends. He tried not to dwell on it, but he realized that being a part of nights like this would likely become a scarcity once he had fatherly duties to perform. His career would have to change, but now he was confronted with the possibility, or inevitability, of his friendships changing.

Hoseok, who was sitting next to Jimin, gave him a fraternal arm around his shoulder, tugging him closer, "Hey, now that you and Y/N are official, she should come around us more often. She could spend some time with Yunhee too."

Yunhee was his longtime girlfriend, and by no means the only serious romantic partner in the group. Namjoon and Jin were in relationships as well. It could be good for you to get to know the other women who were dating members of BTS, if anything for the moral support side of it all.

The head of the group heard Hoseok's suggestion and it resurfaced his concern from earlier. His head perked up, thinking now was the right moment. Namjoon consumed another sip of soju first.

"I don't know if that's the best idea, Hobi."

The other conversations at the table simmered down. He didn't intend to get everyone's attention, but there was nothing to do about it now, "Don't get me wrong. I'm happy for you, Jimin. Y/N is a nice person and all, but let's not forget where she's employed."

"So what?" Hoseok's brows were furrowed, "She can't hang out with us or our girlfriends because she's a stylist?"

"Well...yeah," Namjoon sighed. It didn't feel good to administer this dose of reality, "At least not in larger social settings."

"That's a little much." Jungkook remarked.

"No, he's right," Taehyung said, "I think we all trust ourselves and the other girlfriends to keep it quiet, but no one else can know. I don't know what repercussions they would have for you, Jimin, but Y/N would get fired."

"Exactly, thank you Tae," the leader nodded, "It sucks, but we can't treat this like we treat the other relationships. None of us want to see her lose her job over this. That means she can't be invited to parties, or given any special consideration when we run into her at the studio. We have to keep doing what we've always done."

Naturally, eyes began to land on Jimin, who was sitting there quietly until he noticed. He shook his head and swallowed the cut of pork that was in his mouth, "Look, Y/N and I are adults. We know what it means for us if we want to be together. Maybe someday, if things keep getting more serious, we can try to work around the company. But for now, we've talked about it and we can live with it."

There was a short hush at the table, as if everyone was expecting him to make some kind of protest against the notion of continued secrecy. Jimin began to think about what Hoseok said initially. Knowing what he knew, he thought it would be a good idea for those closest to him to get to know you better.

He added, "I do think it would be nice for you guys to spend more time with her, though."

"Sounds good to me," Jungkook grinned, stretching his arms up behind his head, "Besides, I'd like to know the inside scoop on how they plan on dressing me for the tour. Pick her brain a little."

Jimin chuckled, "I think they are in the very beginning stages of that, but go for it."

Namjoon was glad that there was a general agreement among the members. However, if he was honest with himself, his concern wasn't just with outside people having raised suspicions - you were in question too. Plenty of women chased fame through matters of the heart. What if you were capable of leaking the relationship yourself for a bit of notoriety?

He felt slightly disgusted with himself for thinking it, but his protective side was coming out. It had happened to other idols before. Plus, the fact of the matter was that none of them knew you that well. It couldn't be ruled out.

"Well, at least we don't have to keep pretending behind closed doors." Yoongi laughed.

Jimin looked at him, confused, "With who?"

"With you!" Jin guffawed, "You were so reluctant to put any sort of label on this relationship for so long. And you got annoyed whenever one of us would bring it up, so we've all been acting like we didn't notice the obvious."

"I feel like we do a pretty good job of hiding it," Jimin defended himself, "I don't treat her any differently than the other stylists."

Hoseok nudged him lightly, mouth full of ramyeon, "Yes, but in private, you have a certain face when she comes up in conversation. Seriously, we'll have to hold up a mirror for you next time it happens. Your eyes start darting around the room and your jaw gets really tense, the same thing that happens when you're suppressing any emotion."

He laughed at himself, taking another shot of soju, "Then I'm glad I don't have to embarrass myself anymore."

The evening returned to normal after the guys got bored of teasing their friend. All the while, Jimin felt like an imposter in his own body. He was selling it so well, a happy version of himself.

To some extent, he was happy, but he was also in a state a shock and apprehension. Three emotions swirling about within him, all equally strong and combative. He knew the shock portion of it would fade away soon, but could only hope that the nerves would follow suit.

He felt sturdy in his love for you and the desire to go through with the decision - he only wished that he felt confident that he could be a good, present father. His own dad was always there for him, nurturing and guiding him every step of the way. Jimin felt like he could count on him for anything. Would this child feel the same?

The hang-out ran late, giving him plenty of time to stew internally. Contradictory to past behavior, he was the first to call it a night.

The others started trickling out one by one, back to their own apartments. Being the named leader of the group, Namjoon always found himself being the last one out the door. Though he fell in the middle of the rank when it came to age, he tended to act like the oldest sometimes. Always making sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to, or, on nights like this, making sure they were all okay to drive home.

A perceptive and sensitive soul, Jin always noticed this and it made him pity Namjoon. He could let loose every now and then - the leader side of him didn't need to be switched on all the time, certainly not when it was just the seven of them in private.

Once the others were all gone, Namjoon let out a breath. He still had to get his charger and light jacket, and then he'd head out too.

Bending over to unplug his charger from the outlet by the baseboard, he said to the host, "Thanks for having us as always, Jin. Sorry it went so late again."

The oldest waved away the compliment, "Never a problem, Joonie. But you do know this is my apartment, right? You don't have to stand here with me and say goodbyes until they're all gone."

Namjoon chuckled and fiddled with the white cord in his hands, whirling it like a propeller, "Yeah, I know. Old habit, I guess."

He then put on his jacket, fixing the collar and tugging it in a few places. The two men locked palms and brought it in for a hug, patting each other on the back with their free hands.

"Well, I'll see you." the leader smiled tiredly.

"Night." replied Jin.

Namjoon approached the door to make his exit, but he couldn't shake this one thing. He paused, "Hyung?"

"Yeah?"

He turned back around and put his hands in the pockets of his jacket, "Do you think this whole Y/N thing is good for Jimin?"

The older appeared unpleasantly surprised that he could pose such a question, "Uh, yeah, I do. She seems really sweet and they've been going pretty steady for a long time without an issue. Why?"

"Nothing, I just...nevermind."

"No," Jin stopped him from leaving, "What is it?"

Namjoon pursed his lips together for a moment, "I don't know. All of the potential issues with the company aside, what if she's just chasing his money or fame?"

Jin smirked, "I could maybe wrap my head around the money concern, but fame? They're a secret. There's no fame to be had. Unless you think she'd blab to the press on her own?"

He shrugged, "I mean yeah, it's possible. It wouldn't be the first time a person dated someone famous for some time in the spotlight. Now that they're serious, is it so strange to worry that she might turn around and use Jimin for some time in the spotlight?"

"Actually yes," Jin laughed in disbelief, "Because her job is on the line."

"I'd argue there would be plenty more for her to gain by publicly associating herself with one of the most famous faces on the planet."

The oldest member became more frank, "I have to say I'm surprised at you, Namjoon. It isn't like you to rush to judgment like this, especially of someone you hardly know."

He defended his consternation, "Well, it's the first time one of us has had this type of risky relationship. I just want to make sure Jimin's thought this through. If she-"

"She won't."

"But if she does, what happens? He'd be crushed. We all know that his last breakup tore him apart, and that was done in private. Imagine what it would do to him if she betrayed him like that."

Jin sighed, "Look, I think you're a good friend for wanting to guard his wellbeing, but no one here has been given any reason to think that Y/N would do anything like that. And Jimin is a full-grown man. He's capable of making his own decisions. It doesn't make you any better of a leader to helicopter over his dating life, even if you have doubts."

Namjoon took a deep breath and closed his eyes, nodding. Jin was right. There was nothing to validate his concerns - it was all mere conjecture.

"Okay," he breathed, "You're right. I guess all we can do is stay out of it and see where it goes."

His older brother gave him an exhausted smile and patted his shoulder, "Exactly. Goodnight, Joonie."

Namjoon turned around, nodding his head, "Night."

As he left the apartment, he still had a nervous feeling planted in his intuition. There was just something about this he didn't like.

*One Week Later*

You went to Jimin's place the Saturday morning before he left for Japan. You hadn't been able to make it the night before, buried in work up to your eyeballs. It had been a rough morning for you so far - the infamous morning sickness had arrived throughout the past few days. It was funny they called it that, you thought, because it wasn't relegated to the morning only. So far, however, it was pretty manageable with the help of a vitamin. More often than not, it was a wave of nausea that would hit you without resulting in actual vomiting.

For the first time, you let yourself into the apartment without knocking. Once inside, you saw his duffle bag by the door, all ready to go, but he was nowhere in sight. The blinds were open, however, so you assumed he was awake.

You set your purse down on the entryway table and removed your shoes. As you padded closer to his bedroom, you picked up on the faint sound of the shower running. Entering the bedroom, you saw that the bathroom door was wide open, the space inside becoming slightly steamy.

You couldn't help but smile a bit as you went in. There was a large corner tub in there, but it was empty. Your eyes went instantly to the feast of Jimin's bare frame on full display in the walk-in shower. No curtains, no glass door. Just him.

His back was facing you, unbeknownst to your presence, letting you get a good view of his toned backside - and that included all of his backside. If only you weren't feeling so shitty, you would have been enticed beyond help.

You crossed your arms and cleared your throat.

Jimin didn’t even turn around, only laughed lowly, “Enjoying the show, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “Only a little, and unfortunately I mean that. I feel terrible this morning.”

He turned around, slicking his fully damp hair back out of his face. Eyes containing a devoted concern, he felt an entrenched need to solve the issue, “What’s wrong?”

You sat down on the closed toilet seat and sighed, hands on your knees, “Mainly queasy, a bit fatigued.”

He smiled sympathetically, extending his hand, “Come on.”

You laughed a little, “In there?”

“Nothing sexual, I promise,” he smirked some more, “Seriously, it will help.”

Reluctantly, you agreed and took off your clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. You trusted that his intentions were nothing but authentic. You caught him ogling your body once or twice, but he kept his urges in-check as you took his hand and stepped into the shower.

The warm water pattered on your skin, already giving way to some relaxation in your stirred stomach.

Jimin wrapped his arms around you from behind, kissing the cartilage of your ear, “I used to get horribly nauseous before big performances and interviews. A warm rinse and some deep breathing always helped me ease up. Just focus on breathing, I’ll take care of the rest.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into his caring embrace, “Okay.”

You kept your eyes closed as you inhaled and exhaled slowly, concentrating on the drops of water hitting you like a massage. Even better was the feeling of him washing you with a soapy loofa. There was no scent to whatever body wash he was using - just a soothing, sudsy coating on your skin.

Despite him meaning his promise not to take a lewd approach, Jimin couldn’t help but get a semi as he cleansed you, touching and looking at every inch of you. Your breasts were even more pillowy when they were glistening with shower drops.

“Is it helping?” He asked quietly.

You nodded with a soft grin, “Yes, thank you.”

The applied pressure lessened when he got to your stomach. He glided the wash over this area lightly and lovingly. When you realized how much attention he was giving to this part of you, your eyes opened to find him looking down at your abdomen with a lightness on his features.

You wiped some strands of hair out of his face, sticking them on top of his head with the rest, “What are you thinking about?”

He looked up to meet your gaze, “How nervous yet eager I am to watch your belly grow.”

You cupped one of his cheeks in your palm, “We can be nervous yet eager together then.”

He took a gentle hold of the wrist near his face and kissed your hand, “I really am sorry that I’m going to miss the appointment on Thursday.”

“I am too,” you sighed, “But it’s not going to be helpful to us if we dwell on things we really can’t change at the moment. Our experience will be different. We just have to live with that.”

Jimin hummed and turned you around slowly so that he could hug you from behind once more. His chin nestled on top of your shoulder. As he treated you to a couple of affectionate pecks on the neck, you held his arms.

“I just know there’s some way we can do this without having to be so elusive. There has to be. We can’t keep this a secret from the company and the public forever. Neither of us can live like that.” He said.

You continued to breathe deeply, the sickness subsiding bit by bit, “I hope you’re right.”

The two of you remained comfortably silent in the shower for a little while longer, simply existing with one another. It ended far sooner than you would have liked, but he had a flight to catch and would need to leave for the airport in an hour.

Both of you got dressed again and shared a cuddle in the living room while there was still time.

You enjoyed being encased into him while you could, your nausea almost gone now, “I know it’s only eight days but I’ll miss you.”

He felt the same. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been apart for that long before, but things were radically different now. There was something tying you together now on a much deeper level, “I’ll miss you too. I hope this coming week is easier for you.”

You put on a brave face, “I have feeling this won’t let up for a while. I read that some women have sickness their entire pregnancy. I hope I’m not one of them, but I’ll live either way. My workload will be lighter, so that might help.”

Jimin chuckled, rubbing your thigh absentmindedly, “Are you going to save the hottest wardrobe for me?”

You giggled, “You know the final decision isn’t mine. It will take some time, though. We are still in the elementary phases. Once we have all of the fabrics and color palettes finalized, we will move on to the shopping phase.”

“That sounds so fun,” he lamented, “Getting to pick designer clothing for all of us.”

“It can be fun, but it’s a lot of pressure at times to match the concept perfectly. You’d be surprised how many moving parts there are to simply picking out some outfits for the stage. We also take your personalities into account, to some extent, because you pick your own clothes for most interviews and promotional activities. If the clothes you wear on stage match your real style to some degree, then suddenly the whole thing feels like one giant authentic concept.”

He kissed your temple and laughed, “You’re such a little nerd for your job.”

You pushed into him playfully, “Rude.”

“No, it’s cute, baby,” he went on chuckling, “I love that you’re passionate about it.”

You exhaled into his chest, “I am, and I’ve grown to really like the people in the department too, not just the ones who are assigned to BTS. I guess that's why part of me wish we wouldn't have to let this secret out. I wish I'd be able to stay."

Jimin held you tighter, "You don't know that you won't."

"It's a high probability," you said, "It's like you said earlier. We can't keep this from the company forever. Living like that would be hell."

"We'll take it one day at a time. I just don't want to see you give up hope that things will work out."

"I won't," you promised, "I'm just trying to be realistic."

He huffed, "I know you are. I wish I could make reality more comfortable for us."

You shifted your position, propping yourself on your elbows to be able to look him in the eyes, "Speaking of being realistic, when are we going to tell the guys and our families?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he had to mentally prepare himself to comprehend doing either of those things, "I can't wait too much longer without telling the members. Last weekend they noticed something was up. I was able to brush it off by telling them we decided to make things official between us, but they're just too close to me to keep the secret for very long."

You accepted this. It only made sense. These men knew him so intimately and were around him constantly. You adored Jimin but agreed that he probably would fail to conceal the news from them for very long.

"Okay," you said, "Maybe we can tell them together a few weeks after you get back. I'll be starting to show within the next month or so, and I'm sure you want to leave time to tell your family before the members."

He concurred, "I would like to tell my parents sooner rather than later. This just feels too big not to share with them right away. And honestly, as much as I'm dreading their reaction, I would appreciate their advice."

You tried to offer a reassuring smile, but the topic was disconcerting for you too, "I understand. Why don't you wait until after the ultrasound? That way you'll be able to answer the questions they will inevitably have, like what the due date will be."

He mirrored a more pleasant face, "That's reasonable. Do you think you'll do the same?"

You dropped your head and groaned, "I don't know. I love my parents, but I really don't expect a good response from them. And they will hold a grudge..."

Jimin ran his hand through your hair and stared at the ceiling, "I guess I better get ready to meet them, and you should get ready to meet mine."

Your eyes snapped back up, filled with apprehension, "What? H-How soon?"

"I don't know. But again, let's just take it one day at a time sweetheart. This week, all you need to worry about is taking care of yourself, hm?"

You re-centered your nerves and nodded, leaning your forehead against his, "And remembering to call you after the ultrasound."

He broke into a chuckle and tilted his chin upward so he could lock his lips with yours.

"Yes, that too."

Then the alarm on his phone went off. He had set it so that he wouldn't get carried away with holding you and run late for the airport. Both of you sighed. It was time to get up off this couch and say goodbye. You had to leave so he could catch his ride. For the sake of keeping the relationship under wraps, you couldn't exit at the same time. Jimin gave you one last hug by the door.

"Fly safely," you told him, "Have fun. I'm excited to hear about it when you get back."

He grinned, "I will. Keep drinking plenty of water and eat well."

He then released you from the hug and placed his hands on your tummy, "And have a nice time seeing our little...pomegranate seed?"

You giggled, "Good memory. I'll send you whatever photos I get."

You were pulled in for a series of heartfelt, slow kisses. Feeling so close to him made all of the fears seem smaller, even if it was just for a minuscule amount of time. Both of you knew to your cores that your lives would never be the same again, but your strengthening bond made it bearable.

“I love you, Jimin.”

“I love you too.”

It was finally ‘Ultrasound Day’. Your appointment was at two-thirty, and you were filled with the jitters.

So far, no one in the office seemed to notice any of your symptoms. You’d been caught once or twice in the middle of a nausea spell, but were able to chalk it up to stress.

By the time to leave rolled around, you had been collaborating with Chaeyoung, comparing her fashion sketches with your swatch ideas. The goal was to identify some actual outfits that the team would then work towards replicating with various designers. The only thing standing between mere ideas and reality would soon be the finalization of the budget.

When you told your co-worker that you had to head off to another doctor's appointment, she seemed a little confused. You had just gone to one, two weeks prior. You made the excuse that it was only a routine follow-up to the one before. On your way out of the office, you wondered when you'd let them all know. Your belly was going to grow, whether you liked it or not.

You got in your car and put in the directions on your phone. You were going to a different hospital to see an obstetrician recommended by Doctor Baek. According to her, this new care provider had the capacity to give at-home ultrasounds, if you ever requested it. It was important to you to find someone who could if it meant that Jimin would be able to experience at least one of these.

When you were finally called back into the room, your hands had gone cold and clammy. A lovely nurse took down some of the basic information, took your vitals, and drew your blood to run a quick lab.

By the time the doctor came in, you were more than ready. She was in a set of navy blue scrubs with a sunshine smile, "Y/N, I'm Doctor Yoon. It's a pleasure to meet you."

You shook her hand, "Nice to meet you as well."

She sat down at the same computer where the nurse had just logged some information, looking it over, "Alright, so we're looking at about seven weeks. Your symptoms all seem totally normal. So far so good, Y/N. How are you feeling? Ready to see your baby?"

You smiled, "It's been a bit of a whirlwind, honestly. But yeah, I'm ready."

She didn't ask you if a father would be attending, assuming by your demeanor and words that you came alone. Instead, she gloved her hands and scooted closer to the exam table where you were sitting, "Okay then. Lay back there, and you can go ahead and undo your pants a little bit."

You followed her directions.

"Right, so I'm just going to put a little gel on your belly. Be warned, it's a bit cold." Her cadence was so pleasant - you were glad that you were evidently given an excellent recommendation.

The gel was cold, but it warmed up to your skin as she spread it around with the wand. You hadn't looked at the screen yet, frozen and not quite as ready as you said you were. There was a muffled sound that became more pronounced once Doctor Yoon seemed to have honed in on one spot.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

That's when you looked. It was like something in your DNA had been kicked into gear in an instant. This intuition seemed to tell you exactly what it was. The screen was mostly grey, aside from a black zone in the middle. Nestled in that black pouch was a precious little white shape. It wasn't the perfect outline of a human being. In fact, you had no idea what developed parts you were seeing. But that new and profound maternal instinct within you was filling your heart with love and protection over this tiny thing.

"There you are," Doctor Yoon smiled, "And quite a strong heartbeat for your age, little one."

You didn't realize how emotional you were getting until you blinked away a couple tears. You didn't expect anything like this. In an instant, a small yet powerful connection was made, and suddenly your outlook was crystal clear.

This was yours and Jimin’s baby. A new little life that came directly from the love you shared with one another. Yes, the road ahead was bound to be tough, but now you were certain that it was all going to be worth it. Come what may, you were going to be a family. You were joyful, excited.

You began to smile through your tears, “Hi, you…”

Doctor Yoon was glad to see your reaction, “Everything looks great here, Y/N.”

“Oh good.” you beamed, unable to tear your eyes from the image on the monitor next to you.

She made a couple of clicks with a mouse as she continued to check around for another minute or two. Then she paused the screen and removed the wand from your abdomen. The image was still up on the screen for you to enjoy while she wiped the gel from your skin.

The doctor smiled as she peeled the blue latex gloves from her hands, “The measurements look good, all aligned with what we should see at seven weeks. Based on that, I’ll give you a due date of the eighth of January.”

In your soft, enchanted haze, you thought there couldn’t be a more perfect birthday for your child.

Doctor Yoon stepped out of the office for a brief minute or two. In the meantime, you re-fastened your pants and sat up. When she returned, she had printed photos to give you, “I had a feeling you’d want these. Now your second ultrasound should fall somewhere between eighteen and twenty-two weeks. I’d highly recommend scheduling that at the front desk as you head out. Just makes it easier.”

Your happy expression faded slightly as you held the printed scans in your lap, “Oh, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to yet. The father…he travels for work often and would definitely like to be a part of the second one. We haven’t gotten to talk about any dates yet. And we’d like to possibly do it at home, if that’s okay.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” she nodded, “I do home visits all the time. You just call whenever you get it sorted out. In the meantime, just keep pushing through the symptoms and don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions, alright?”

You smiled, “I won’t. Thank you so much, Doctor Yoon.”

“My pleasure.”

When you walked back out into the parking lot, the world looked different to you. You couldn’t stop grinning and looking at the scans.

You couldn’t wait to share it all with Jimin.

He was pacing the floor by the bed, itching for that call to come. He knew your appointment was early in the afternoon, but the sun was setting outside his hotel room and he hadn't heard from you yet.

The other guys went out to a restaurant, at which management had booked a private room, to have dinner. He stayed behind, telling them that you two had plans to FaceTime. It wasn't a lie, but he got teased mercilessly for it.

Finally, it came. His phone started buzzing, presenting a red and green button. He immediately pressed his thumb on the green button and slid it to the side, only to be greeted with the sight of you. Despite all of the not-so-fun symptoms you told him about that week, you looked radiant. It put a grin on his face to see you that way.

"Hi!" you chirped, head falling back onto the pillow on your own bed.

He chuckled, "Hey, baby. You're in a good mood, huh?"

"I am," you smiled, "How are you?"

"Good," he nodded, making himself comfortable by sitting on the all-white hotel bed against the luxe headboard, "We had Vogue today. It was a good shoot, good interview. No complaints. But don't make me talk about my day, I want to hear about the appointment."

You laughed, but then your expression settled into one of simple and pure bliss, "Jimin, I don't know how to describe it. It was quick, but one of the best moments of my life."

There was a huge relief and eagerness to know more, "Try to describe it, please. What did you see?"

The angle of your camera shifted a bit as you leaned forward, reaching for something. When it went back to normal, you were holding some photos up for him to see, "This."

It wasn't the most clear image, but it made his eyes squint with one of his largest smiles. He'd seen ultrasounds before, so he knew where to look. There was his child.

A tight sensation formed in his ribcage, but it wasn't bad - it was his heart swelling, "Oh my God, Y/N..."

"I know." you near whispered.

He experienced a rush of adrenaline, pushing his hair back only because he didn’t know what to do with himself, "Wow, that's incredible."

You were happy to see him have a similar reaction to yours, "That's not even the half of it, though. I heard the heartbeat."

Jimin could see you starting to get emotional and it made him want to leap through his phone and share this beautiful moment in person, "You did?"

You nodded, eyes brimming with tears. For a moment, you were at a loss for words, "It was just the most adorable sound, Jimin. The doctor said it was so strong for it being seven weeks."

"And everything else looks good?"

A content sigh left you as you smiled, "It's all perfect."

Now a new paternal emotion was unlocked for him - pride. He was somehow proud of his little son or daughter for having a good heartbeat and for growing so well, "That's wonderful. God, you have no idea how much I want to be with you right now. And wish I was there to witness it with you.”

“Me too,” you said, placing the printed scans on your wooden nightstand off to the side, “But I’m too excited right now to think of any downsides. It’s like all of the worries I have just evaporate when I look at those pictures. We’re really having a baby.”

Your boyfriend looked so alleviated and pleased to see you this assured. He licked his lips, “We really are, sweetheart. Did you get a due date?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, “January eighth.”

“January eighth,” he repeated with a single nod, “What a great way to start the new year.”

You giggled, “That’s true. A little winter baby.”

Jimin let his head fall back and let out a long, peaceful sigh, “This trip can’t end soon enough. When I get back Sunday night, I need to see you. Will you come over?”

“I’d love that.”

“And please take a picture of one of those scans and send it to me. I want to be able to look at it after we get off the phone.”

“I will.”

He didn’t want to, but he then said, “Okay. I’ll let you go now. Go make yourself some dinner.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “How did you know I haven’t eaten yet?”

“Because I know you,” he grinned cheekily, “We’ve spent a lot of evenings together, in case you’ve forgotten. I’m aware of your nightly habits.”

A blush crept onto your cheeks, “Fine, then I’ll go make myself something. Goodnight.”

“Sleep well tonight, baby. I love you.”

You knew you’d never get bored of hearing that come out of his mouth, “I love you too.”

Your face was then removed from sight. A few seconds later, he received a text from you. Opening it, he was graced once more with the image of the sonogram. A subconscious twinkle came upon his face as he zoomed in on the tiny white form in the middle.

The room was quiet, giving his mind all the space in the world to contemplate the little one yet to come into the world. Without knowing it, he uttered the same words you did:

“Hi, you.”

[huihuiheart]

Mouse - Ateez- Yunho - Horror, Smut

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Ateez Masterlist

Pairing:  Yunho x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Horror themes, deadly escape room, multiple deaths, blood, violence, nightmares, being trapped, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, bondage, marking, spanking, oral (fem rec), fingering, mentions of multiple rounds, lying, secrets. I think that's all.

Word Count: 4868

Yunho had everything perfectly in place, nothing could stop things now. He nods at his little pawn, the man injecting his as well so that it wouldn’t look suspicious. Sure enough, he wasn’t the first one awake, and luckily for him neither were you. He wasn’t supposed to have preferences, but you were such a cute little mouse how could he not like you already? He felt it was special to get to watch you wake up, eyelashes fluttering so pretty. He wondered what it would take to get tears to fill those pretty eyes. Watching how panic set in as everyone tried the door only to find it locked. The distress on your face told him he might get you to cry sooner than he thought, but for now, he could play the savior. Going over and gently putting a hand on your arm.

“Hey, shh it’s okay. Look, there's six of us in here, we have to be able to find a way out somehow.” He gives you a small soft smile to try and reassure you feeling giddy when he sees you nod in agreement. “I’ll check in the corner, do you want to look with me?”

When you nod timidly he offers you his hand, leading you to the corner he mentioned. Letting you hide behind his large form. He only lets go of your hand to start looking through the bookshelf, smiling when you follow his lead. Looking around to see if the others were also looking for a way out.

“I’m Yunho by the way.” He tells you as he picks up another book, thumbing through it, despite already knowing exactly what was on the shelf.

“I’m Y/N.” You answer him and he nods.

“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but all things considered…” Yunho responds proud of himself when he gets a chuckle even if it’s tiny out of you.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” You shrug, if only you knew that it entirely was. Yunho turns to you sharply when he hears a sudden gasp, worried he’d forgotten something only to see you entirely unharmed.

“What is it?” Yunho asks, still looking over you just to be sure.

“I think I found something.” You say looking in the book, making Yunho hum looking over your shoulder, keeping his expressions in check. He was proud though, of course his little mouse would be smart enough to find something.

“Oh? I don’t see what it is?” Yunho watches as you point to the circled page number. 

“There’s only one in this book, but I’ve found a circled page in more than one book at this point. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.” You tell him, putting both books on a nearby table open to their pages.

“I think I saw one too.” Yunho says going to look through the books he set aside, handing you the ones with circled pages.

“We just have to figure out what to do with them then.” You say, seeming more energetic now as you’re starting to see some hope.

“Yeah, but I’m sure-” Yunho cuts off with a hiss of pain as a razor slips through the pages and slices open his palm.  As a result, Yunho drops the book and your attention falls fully onto him.

“Oh my god, Yunho are you okay?” You ask rushing over to him only his answer gets stopped by a loud thud followed by a scream. Both of you turning towards the commotion.

“A hammer… it…. I don’t… he opened the cabinet and it flung out at him.” The girl cries, hands trembling as she’s afraid to touch his body on the floor.

“Did you check for a pulse? I mean people can survive hits to the head sometimes.” You meekly speak up, Yunho saw the pool of blood under the man’s head though, and knew in this case he most likely hadn’t. Waiting for a second to confirm by checking for a pulse when he saw you both were too scared to. Feeling a faint one only to shake his head at you both.

“We need to get out of here right now!” The girl begins to panic.

“We’re working on it. Look for something we can use numbers for.” Yunho tells her and while she makes a face she doesn’t argue. The other two overhear and say they’ll look as well. Yunho turns to you, “Come on, let's see if there’s anything more we can find.”

“Wait! Let me look at your hand first.” You insist, reaching out to grab his wrist to look at his hand. You frown at the wound before taking the ribbon out of your hair and delicately wrap his hand. Your soft treatment made Yunho swoon internally, you were too perfect, he definitely made a mistake in bringing you here… it had to be a mistake. He had looked into you though, Y/N Park, before bringing you here and he never made mistakes, but you acted nothing like he had seen. He had to get you out… something was off.

“I’m not seeing anything with numbers!” The panicked girl huffs, “Why don’t you guys just force something open for us?”

“And risk setting something like that hammer off on us? I don’t think so.” One of the other guys counters.

“He’s right it’s too risky, but there isn’t anything with numbers.” The other guy shakes his head.

“What about the clocks?” Y/N asks, noticing how many there were in the room, “We have enough numbers to set a time on each of them.”

“Okay little miss smartypants you can test that one out yourself. I’m not putting my life on the line for your dumb idea.” The girl hisses harshly making the two men in the corner roll their eyes, Yunho glaring at her.

“It’s not a dumb idea.” Yunho assures you, “We just don’t know the order or which clock to start with.”

“Try alphabetical order for the books.” One of the guys speaks up, coming over to help organize the books like that and then into pairs.

“The title of the first book has west in it. The west wall only has one clock.” Yunho says following the directions painted onto the wall. “Maybe start there and put them in clockwise?”

Everyone except for sulking Ms. Prissy agrees, but no one moves to put the first time in. Yunho sighs before walking towards it until you grab his arm to stop him. Yunho looking at you confused.

“Maybe you shouldn’t… I mean what if it doesn’t work? What if it’s a trap?” You shakily mutter out.

“We have to try something and it’s a good idea, I’ll be fine.” Yunho assures you before going to the clock, everyone holding their breath. When he sets the time and nothing happens everyone relaxes some. Moving to put the other times in.

“Move. Get the fuck out of my way. I’m putting the last one in. I’m not going to owe anyone anything.” The little bitch shoves everyone aside to get to the last clock only to scream when she sets the time. Her hand pierced through in the center with an arrowhead. The door opening as well though, “Get me out of here!”

“If we pull you off that your hand will be in way worse shape, maybe too much to fix.” Yunho tells her, panic spreading through her once again, “You’re better off staying here and waiting for us to send help.”

She hesitated before nodding, “Okay, you better send help though.”

Everyone hesitates before leaving through the door. Yunho went last, turning to smirk and wave at the bitch before the door shut behind him startling everyone, “Oh! I guess we can’t go back in there now.” 

“It-It’s okay we can still get her help if we get out.” You say trying to be reassuring despite the uncertainty in your voice. Yunho looking at you and nodding as he pouts a little like she could actually stand a chance.

“Um guys, there’s a lot of different ways to go here, what should we do?” One of the guys says glancing around.

“Maybe we should split up? We’ll be able to cover more ground that way and hopefully find an exit faster.” Yunho suggests and although anxious the two guys nod and each pick a direction to go. Yunho’s brows furrow as you hesitate to go alone, “Hey, it’s okay, why don’t you go that way nice and slow and just look for a way out?” 

“What if something is a trap though?” You ask as you glance down the hallways Yunho mentioned.

“Well just trust your gut before touching anything. If you don’t want to check something I will when we meet back if no one finds an exit first.” Yunho offers and it has you finally nodding in agreement.

“Please be careful Yunho.” You tell him before heading your way, Yunho going his.

Once he’s sure you’re out of sight he pulls out a set of keys, twirling them lightheartedly. He approaches a door and unlocks it, careful to lock it back behind him. He looks over the cameras before the man he was simply using out of convenience this time around.

“You can either leave or join the game.” Yunho tells him dismissively. The guy’s eyes widening before he scrambles out the outside door.

Yunho looks over everything before using the controls to lock everything in the hallway you went down. So you wouldn’t accidentally set something off. Then he’s slipping back out into the hallway having set off everything in the last two hallways. He goes to the end of the hall and unlocks the last door before going back where he came from, he stops inside the one room to drop his set of keys down the durian. Waiting until he hears a splash through the rundown pipe into the sewer. This is when things started to get serious, there was far less room for error now. When Yunho sees you’re not back yet he knows he still has time, slipping down one of the other halls he finds one of the guys in one of the rooms.

“Too bad you picked the wrong one.” Yunho sighs leaning against the door frame, “I’ve worked with far less though.”

The man looks at him confused until he finally starts to realize what is happening. Yunho stepped back with a giggle as he closed the door behind him, it locking automatically from the inside as soon as it closed. Yunho steps across the hall, swinging and leaving a door open looking around before tipping over a container of vials which near instantly start smoking.

“Oops, how clumsy of me, “He shrugs before heading down your hallway then, running some to end up out of breath. 

“Y/N! Y/N!” Yunho pants as he catches up to you, “Down my hall, last door on the left there’s a window! I think we could shatter it and get out.”

Your eyes widen at the news, urgency only growing when you get to the central hallways to see flames at the end of one, screams coming from one the rooms. Yunho snatching you up as you move to go down and help. 

“You can't, it's too late for him there’s already too many flames. Go break the window and I’ll see if I can find the last guy.” Yunho urges and although it’s hard to accept you nod and listen knowing what he said made sense. Yunho watching you go before going to tie up the last loose end. 

Only he doesn’t need to as he sees the man had already triggered a trap, having been impaled. Yunho hums before taking his time, letting the flames catch up some and lick at his skin so he’s hurt further and scuffed once help arrives. Then scrambling after you to get out. Coughing up smoke as sirens pull up now. Firefighters first getting out and rushing over.

“There was a man caught in the flames and a woman trapped in the center room, but everyone else is dead.” He tells them trying to catch his breath.

Allowing you to gently help him over to the paramedics now, “It’s okay Yunho, everything will be alright now.”

He finds it endearing how you try to assure him despite your voice cracking and tearing up slightly. A sight he’s been longing to see and yet it’s prettier than he could have imagined. 

Yunho watches closely under the guise of concern from where he’s being patched up as you talk to a detective. Noticing how there seems to be a familiarity passing between you. Slowly going to make his way over and hearing bits and pieces.

“-fuck the cover. I’m never going into something like that again. You make Y/N Park disappear as fast as you made her appear! Do you understand me?” He hears you hiss at the detective much to the detective’s displeasure. The detective keeps quiet though, only clearing his throat as he notices Yunho. 

“Y/N you should get checked by the paramedics too.” He speaks softly, already trying to guide you there, not liking how you wait until the detective nods to do so. Yunho guiding you over there before looking down and feigning nervous.

“I’m worried Y/N,” Yunho tells you, and your brows furrow.

“Why? We got out alive.” You ask, reaching out to hold his hand.

“That’s why. What if he comes after me again? I live alone, no one would know.” Yunho sniffles, looking at you with teary eyes. Your heart breaking knowing that if you were in that position you’d probably be terrified.

“Why don’t you come stay with me for a little bit? It’s safe at my place.” You assure him and he nods agreeing.

“If anything happens though I’ll keep you safe,” Yunho promises.

The man follows your lead to get to your place, things clicking even more when it’s entirely different from the apartment he snatched you from. So things were different than he thought, you weren’t who he thought at all. Yunho followed your direction to shower first, then getting a chance to look around as you do, finding a badge and humming, detective Y/N L/N. So you had tried to trap him then… a clever little mouse indeed. Being sure not to touch too much he finishes looking to go to your kitchen, making ramen for you both and smiling when you come out.

“I hope you don’t mind… I figured we could both use some food though.” Yunho chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It smells amazing, thank you.” you assure, mouth watering as you sit down with him to eat.

“It’s just ramen.” He flushes a little at the compliment.

“Doesn’t matter.” You mumble through a mouthful of food not caring about manners at this point.

Both of you getting ready for bed with full tummies only to toss and turn then. Yunho timidly went to your door and was immediately invited in as you were afraid to fall asleep alone anyways. You both reassure one another until you finally doze off together. Yunho waking again at the tiniest thing to find you tossing and turning, listening to the sounds you make, and releasing a breath when you didn’t say his name, so you didn’t know…perfect. He gently shakes you awake. 

“Hey, shh Y/N it’s okay, we’re safe now.” Yunho manages to wake you up.

“Oh, I’m sorry Yunho, did I wake you up?” You ask, still trying to get your bearings after the nightmare you just had.

“No, I woke up from one too.” He smoothly lies, opening his arms to you, letting you cuddle in, “You were so brave you know, smart too. There’s no way we would have made it out without you.”

His words and hold help you some, but you’re still not entirely settled. Leaning in to kiss him doesn’t help though, but you do it before even realizing. Yunho returns it without hesitation and you relax some in response.

“We got out together.” You say quietly when the kiss breaks, “We make a good team actually.” 

Yunho nods in agreement, “Yeah, we do… you know I wish we hadn’t met like this, but I still feel like we clicked. Maybe in a different life, we would have met in a much better way.”

“Either way I’ve met you now and I say we stick together until they find the bastard.” You suggest and Yunho is more than eager to accept wanting to stay close to you.

“Will I get to kiss you again?” Yunho flusteredly asks, making your heart stop at the thought.  

“Do you want to?” Your question almost makes Yunho whine.

“So, so badly.” As soon as he’s said those words you’re closing the gap and kissing him again. Only this time it lasts longer, Yunho testing the waters by licking over your bottom lip. Practically decouring you when you open up, taking the lead now as he shifts to lean over you. When you break away to catch your breath his eyes have darkened some as he looks down at you breathing heavy, “Nothing will happen to you, I promise.”

“What happened to my shy, scared Yunho?” You ask with a chuckle.

“Maybe I was just scared for your well-being.” Yunho counters before pouting playfully, “Besides, I’m a big strong man. I can protect you.”

“Yeah?” You wanna show me how big and strong you are?” Your implication has Yunho groaning as he captures your lips again.  Fully intent on answering your questions through what he conveys in this kiss, while he still may not show you everything about him, he’s going to show you exactly how big and strong he is. 

When Yunho finally breaks away from your lips he’s pinned your hands to the bed besides your head, kissing a trail down your jaw and throat leaving blossoming marks in his wake. Something he’s been desiring to do since he first laid eyes on you since he first saw his little mouse. Even if you had tried to trick him, you were his now and he was going to make sure you and everyone else knew it…even if he couldn’t let you win in the long run. 

“Look at you, not even trying to get out of my hold.” Yunho coos teasingly, cock twitching at how your eyes gaze up at him still so innocently, “Makes me wonder if you’d let me do whatever I wanted without any fight at all little mouse.”

You feel a shift hanging heavy in the air, but he’s turning you on too much for you to be able to decipher it right now. Not when all you can think about it how good it feels to be trapped beneath him with his lips on you.

“I probably would.” You admit through a soft moan when Yunho leans down to lick a trail up your throat before locking gazes with you again.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” You don’t get time to ask him what he means before his hands grip the collar of your shirt, ripping down the center of it. His mouth marking up the newly exposed skin to him, glad he didn’t have to bother with ripping off a bra too, not that it would have stopped him for long. Yunho is intent on putting his mouth on nearly every piece of skin that he can, leaving enough marks behind that you wonder if he could get them everywhere before the night is over. Once he’s content with how he’s painted your chest in bruises he quickly flips you over, pulling the remains of the shirt down until it’s around your wrists, knotting the fabric so that they’re tied together tight enough to leave a faint sting, but nothing truly unpleasant. Yunho’s hand slapping down over your clothed ass before he’s pulling down your sleep shorts, “So fucking pretty like this and so moldable under my hands, do you like me pushing you around baby?”

You know you’re already arching under any light touch on your back and pushing your hips back when he grips them, so there’s no use in denying it, “It feels good… letting you be in control.” 

Yunho throws his head back in a groan that slowly turns into a dark chuckle, here he was ruining you and you were loving it. He knew he would be poisonous to his good little mouse, but right now with you on your knees, ass up, whining for him he didn’t give a single fuck. Yunho slipped his shirt off before laying on the bed and moving up until his head was between your thighs, focused on marking them up as well, hushing your whines with a comment about wanting to make you an even prettier sight before he got a taste. Though he almost caved when he marked where your thigh meets your hips on the one side, between your reactions to the attention on the sensitive flesh and being so close to your pussy. Seeing how wet you were, practically dripping for him by now, twitching in need, and he could smell you so much that he felt as though he could practically taste you. Still, he was a man on a mission and he couldn’t get to that until he’d littered your other thigh in his claim. When he does pull you down onto his face to finally lick through your folds, trying to get as much of you on his tongue as he can, your hips jump. Yunho reacts quickly, smacking your ass with a growl against your clit.

“Stay. Still.” He mumbles against you, and the shocks that send through your body make it very hard to listen to him. You have every intention to do so though, wanting to be good for him, to listen to everything he wanted even if he conveys it nonverbally. Even with you behaving he can’t help but to spank you, his hands kneading the flesh he’s abusing between each hit, moaning against your clit each time that he does. Often dipping down to slip his tongue in, wanting his mouth covered in you by the time he’s done. He swears the only thing that could make you taste better is if you cum for him and he’s determined to get it, one hand leaving your ass so that he can lick two of his fingers before slipping them inside. They’re filling you up better than you ever would have expected for something like this, especially when he curls them just right, feeling his veins bulge and only rub more against places that you’ve never known to bring you so much pleasure. The ring that he’s been wearing on his index finger since you first met him brushing against your now too and the chill of the metal only adds to the onslaught of feelings he’s giving you all at once. When your thighs start to shake and he feels your pussy start to clench around his fingers he’s quick to replace them with his tongue, letting his nose rub against your clit, eager to get all of you in his mouth as his now sticky digits grip firmly onto your ass again. Yunho’s more than content to keep you firmly in place despite the way you tremble in pleasure until he’s gotten every last drop he can from you. Slipping out from between your thighs and placing a pillow to help keep your shaky hips up for him. 

You’re gasping again only seconds later when his fingers tangle into the roots of your hair and pull you up so that he can kiss you. Letting you taste yourself as he’s still absolutely covered in it, the man moaning as he licks it back up from you. Pulling away he looks at you with dark eyes before your face is back in the sheets as he smacks your ass the second it’s back up for him. He strips before leaning over you, covering your form entirely in his, breath hot against your ear as you feel his cock teasing through your folds.

“Do you feel how big and strong I am now, little mouse? Is there any denying I can protect you from anything?” Yunho asks, voice husky as he slowly pushes in, but your moan is not enough of an answer for him as he stills once he’s fully inside of you, “Tell. Me.”

“You can protect me.” Your answer still isn’t enough due to how it’s muffled in the sheets, Yunho gripping your jaw and turning your head so that you’re moaning into the room now.

“What was that baby? I couldn’t hear you?” He mocks, grinning devilishly down at you.

“You can protect me Yunho!” The way you’re crying out to him with the hint of a whine in your voice does it for him. Yunho can’t hold back anymore, thrusting into you quickly, even if he refuses to move far away as the weight of his chest keeps your tied hands pinned to your back. He settles enough weight on you as he leans on his forearms on either side of you to have you feeling crushed, but not suffocated by him. Something that you would rather die from than complain about so long as Yunho kept fucking you as desperately as he was. 

When you whine out his name Yunho moves one of his hands between your legs to rub at your clit, “No one can make you feel as good as I can either.”

When you shake your head he slaps your clit, not content with that, “Say. It.”

“No one can make me feel as good as you can.” You cry out, teetering right on the edge until he growls his next words into your ear.

“Good girl.”

It took three more rounds before your doe-eyed, sweet Yunho was back. Carrying you to a hot bath before your muscles could cramp up at all. His gentleness is in stark contrast with how he had been not long before as he slips one of the few shirts he had brought over onto you. Holding you throughout the rest of the night to keep the nightmares away and let you get some semblance of sleep. Only to whine and hold you tighter when you shut off your alarm the next morning and go to get up.

“Yunho as much as I would love to stay here in bed with you all day, I have to go to work.” You insist trying to ignore how he finally opens his eyes only so that he can sleepily pout up at you.

“Can I take you there at least?” You don’t have it in you to argue that one, so you nod, the both of you getting up to get ready to go. 

You let Yunho take you to work, where he hands you back your car keys and says he’s got a few errands before he’ll find a way back to your place. Waving as you walk into the precinct before looking around for a few moments curiously, giving each person who enters an enthusiastic greeting before going on his way. After all, he still had a pawn to dispose of before you had a chance to make any headway on the case. Whistling carelessly as he goes in the backway to the familiar house, the man already addressing him from the other room assuming this was just another meeting to prepare something. Oblivious to how Yunho grabs one of the cords from an outlet in passing until it’s already tightly around his neck. 

“Oh stop fighting, it won’t help. After all, there’s only one way I can keep you quiet permanently.” Yunho rolls his eyes at the struggle but holds out without even really breaking a sweat. Letting the body fall to the ground with a careless thud once he’s sure the man is dead, tossing the cord over his shoulder. Leaving behind a card with a list of the chemicals he had used to start a fire in the other building. He walks through the house for anything of particular use or interest, grabbing only a pair of sunglasses before going on his way. Sneaking back out without concern of being seen. 

He only tosses his gloves once he’s out of a good 3 block radius to be generous. Glancing down at his phone to look over the schedule of yours that he copied for himself. Excellent, he finished in time for your coffee shop meeting with a potential lead. Making a pit stop to change and put on a hat as well. He parks himself comfortably across the street and down about two doors, looking like any normal person as he sips on a drink at the small establishment, snapping a few photos of you and the civilian as he smirks to himself. You had no idea the storm that was about to be unleashed on your life, but Yunho had you trapped now. His perfect, pretty little mouse.

(Part 2 To Come)