#it's always some time after i eat something | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

immortalmrwavell · 2 days ago

Text

A Worthy Replacement - Part 1

(Original story posted December 14th 2022) This story has been significantly Updated!

Written for @bodyswappingandshit/@bodyswappingandshit-1

Glad to finally have the first part of this story back up! It’s one I know lots of you enjoyed back in the day. I thought about uploading all three parts of this story together in one post like I’ve been doing with other multi part stories from the past but honestly this story is just too massive. Especially now that I’m updating and extending it. So for that reason I’m keeping it separated into three parts. I’m even considering adding on a bonus epilogue that wasn’t part of the original! But with all that said, enjoy the story! ❤️

Part 2 & Part 3 returning soon!

~~~

“No… fucking… way…” Was all Martin could say or think when he recognised the man who’d been working out across from him at the gym.

Recently Martin, a youthful 27 year old, had really been trying to get himself into shape. He’d been working out at home for some time now but after moving to a new town he decided it was finally time to get serious and sign up to one of the local gyms. The one he picked in the end was rather expensive but from what he could tell it was held in very high regard and had everything you’d ever need. More machines and equipment than Martin even knew existed, an amazing sauna, a large indoor swimming pool and more! That in mind he supposed spending the extra money on it would encourage him to go and make the most of it all.

Upon stepping into the gym on his first day as a member, Martin was of course greeted by the sight of hunks, jocks, meatheads and bodybuilders all getting deep into their routines. The aroma of manly sweat mixed with deodorant flooded his senses in a way that had him struggling to keep his dick under control. Getting a front row seat to all these men pumping their juicy muscles as big as humanly possible certainly didn’t help either. He was already having fantasies about worshipping some of these men. Kissing their biceps and massaging their thighs. Imagining how amazing it would feel to press his face between their meaty glutes. The thought alone was enough to make him drool.

Of course Martin tried to stay respectful and not stare, as difficult as that was, while instead opting to get on with his own routine. After all, if he wanted to be like all the hunks he adored, he needed to put in the work. With that things were going smoothly. He pushed through his exercises and was able to build up a good sweat in the process. However there was something that kept distracting him. Across the gym he couldn’t help but notice how a bunch of people had stopped to watch one particular dude as he worked out. Some were even going up and asking for pictures as he was resting while others had politely asked about workout and eating tips. He couldn’t see the man properly from where he was but he could tell the dude was big. Very big. Martin thought that perhaps he was an influencer or something.

Eventually his curiosity ended up getting the better of him. He finished his last set on the machine he was using before wandering his way over towards the man. If the guy was well known online, Martin wondered if it would be someone he recognised. That could be pretty exciting. He’d gotten there just as the man was doing some heavy bench pressing. He wasn’t able to get a good look at first but when the man put the barbell back and sat up, Martin’s eyes went wide with disbelief. No wonder people had been watching him this whole time. It was the Mr Olympia of classic physique! Chris fucking Bumstead!

From that point onwards Martin found it exceptionally hard to focus on his own workout. Always finding himself peeking over his shoulder to sneak glances at the renowned bodybuilding champion. He had to actively stop himself from trying to scan every inch of that titanic body as he watched beads of sweat drip down Chris’ massive frame, dampening the clothes he was wearing. Thoughts of running his tongue along Chris’ glistening muscles after a long session danced through Martin’s mind. Suddenly no other man in the gym existed. All he cared about was that pure adonis of a man. Suddenly Martin was thrown back to all the times he’d found himself laid in bed scrolling through Chris Bumstead’s Instagram while jerking his dick furiously. Now all those lustful feelings were bubbling to the surface ten fold! Martin had to try desperately to hide his painfully hard erection after that living sculpture of a man walked past him at one point, his scent wafting faintly through the air while invading Martin’s nostrils. A perfect blend of woodsy deodorant and fresh musk. Good god. Martin still couldn’t believe that perfect specimen of a man was only 2 years older than him!

Shortly after pulling off his tee to show off the sweat stained tank top underneath, Chris finished up his routine and headed off towards the locker room to change. Noticing this, Martin couldn’t help but stare from behind. Watching that wide muscled back barely contained by that tank. Eyes practically glued to the huge rounded muscle ass stretching the back of those shorts as Chris exited the main gym floor. Almost every part of Martin’s being was telling him to follow the bodybuilder in the hopes that he might get a glance at that glorious physique without a top on in person.

He didn’t wanna seem weird though like he was stalking the guy so he decided it’d be best to finish up another set of exercises first. Admittedly he sort of botched the form due to his excitement but thankfully nobody seemed to notice. With that however Martin swiped up his towel and water bottle before hurrying off the gym’s locker room as inconspicuously as possible.

Before long he found himself casually glancing down each of the aisles to see if he could find the one and only Mr Olympia he’d been drooling over. Unfortunately after checking most of the aisles, he started to believe that perhaps Chris had already finished getting changed and was long gone as there didn’t seem to be any sign of him. He must’ve slipped out somehow when Martin wasn’t looking. Just when he was about to give up, Martin noticed a pile of gym clothes sitting on one of the empty benches. He wasn’t sure why but for some he found himself oddly intrigued by the discarded clothes. Almost like it they were… calling to him? There was no way to explain the feeling. All he knew was that he had to get a closer look at those clothes.

He made his way down the aisle and towards the bench. It was only when he got closer though that he realised who they belonged to. That huge tank top, those massive shorts and the unmistakable giant sneakers next to them with gym socks stuffed inside. He couldn’t believe it! These were the very same gym clothes Chris has just been wearing! The gym bag next to them with the hunks name on it only confirmed what he already knew. Martin couldn’t believe it!

Did he go and take a shower? Or maybe for a swim in the gym’s pool? God just the thought of sneaking a peek at Chris’ naked body under a steaming shower or doing laps in the pool was enough to make Martin want to cream on the spot. But then something odd crossed his mind… Why would Chris leave his clothes out here in the open where anyone could grab them instead of putting them away safely in his locker??

———

A few minutes earlier…

Chris found himself stepping into a rather empty locker room with only a small handful of men getting changed or sitting around. Upon reaching his locker, he found the aisle it was located on was completely desolate. Or so he thought anyway.

He slotted the key in and twisted it before opening the locker and pulling out his hefty gym bag. He turned to place it down on the bench behind when he jumped in shock at the sight of a man who’d seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “Whoa!… Uhh sorry man I didn’t hear ya.” He said politely with a chuckle and that recognisable lisp of his. The strange man didn’t immediately say anything however, just staring and smiling as he ran his eyes up and down Chris’ body. “Ummm can I help you?… if you want a photo or an autograph or something I’d be happy to give you one…” As weirded out as he was now, the bodybuilder remained kind and polite as he shoved his t-shirt into the gym bag.

“Mr Olympia huh?… Incredible. You really are something. ” The man finally spoke in an almost unsettling yet buttery smooth tone. “And as a matter of fact you can help me.”

The more Chris examined him, the more this odd man didn’t look as though he belonged. He was a lean middle aged guy with perfectly styled salt and pepper hair. His face was framed by a well groomed beard that was a chestnut brown flecked with silver besides the hair on his chin that was a snowy white. The man was dressed in a gorgeous navy blue suit that seemed tailored to his body. The flawless jacket hugged a crisp pink shirt underneath that was decorated by a striped blue and indigo tie. A bracelet that matched his suit and shining silver watch adorned his left wrist. A pair of sunglasses hid a pair of dazzling eyes that no doubt matched the rest of his devilishly handsome visage. He was in good shape underneath that suit from what Chris could tell so he must've kept fit but… something about him was just off. You wouldn’t dress this immaculate just to get a workout.

By this point Chris was starting to get a bit creeped out by the whole situation but he kept his cool and played along. After all he was both a body builder and an influencer which meant he always had to put on his best face for the sake of reputation. “Okay? And how is that?” He responded carefully.

Just then the strange man beamed with a large grin. “Well I’m glad you asked! First things first, my name is Mr Wavell and I’ll be your friendly neighbour hood Warlock this fine day.” He claimed as he outstretched a hand towards the hunk in a respectable manner.

Chris was hesitant but he leant a hand to meet Wavell’s, a look of confusion plastered across his face. “Warlock?” He questioned while clasping the other man’s hand and giving it a firm shake. Part of his subconscious was telling him to just brush this guy off and get on with the day. He was clearly a bit of a nutter. Unfortunately he’d had the displeasure of dealing with his fair share of weirdos since becoming rather famous in the body building sphere. But like usual Chris’ kind hearted nature forced him to stay and hear what this strange Mr Wavell dude had to say.

“Oh don’t worry. You’ll understand soon enough big guy.” Wavell replied somewhat ominously as he let Chris’ hand go. “Honestly it’s not often that I experiment on men such as yourself.” He admitted, shamelessly gazing up and down Chris’ godly physique. “Famous men I mean. I play around with jocks, meatheads and bodybuilder’s all the time but never someone as prominent and well known as you. I can see why too. Your body is a true work of art. The very kind that should be carved into stone and worshiped for generations to come. And to have obtained such a physique without the use of any kind of magic is truly magnificent. I’ll have to be sure that whoever owns it next will keep it in peak condition.”

Chris narrowed his eyes in uncertainty. “W-what? What the hell are you talking about? Experiments? Owners? Magic? Look I’m sorry man I don’t know what this is about but it’s all starting to sound really freaking weird.” He chuckled awkwardly while taking a step back from the suited stranger. “I appreciate the… compliments? But I’ve got other things to do today so again if you want a picture or something we can do that but whatever you’re trying to buy or sell, I’m really not interested.” He’d finally reached his limit with all the strange stuff that Wavell was spewing.

Wavell sighed, a deep purple aura surrounding his body as he waved a hand towards the bodybuilder. “Oh you poor thing. Your compliance isn’t really a factor.”

Suddenly the mighty Chris Bumstead found that same purple energy coiling around his body in the blink of an eye and binding him in place like a muscular statue.Understandably Chris was freaking the fuck out. He tried with all his might to move even a single muscle but nothing responded. He was completely frozen in place.

“If it’s any consultation, I actually feel a little bad about this. I took a peek inside your mind and you’re actually a really sweet guy even when you’re not on camera. Most of the time I wouldn’t go out of my way to take from a guy as genuine and kind as you but…” Wavell reached out and placed his firmly against Chris’ enormous sculpted pecs and began to massage the thick muscle. “Mmmm… you’re just too damn gorgeous to resist. Don’t worry though. I’m sure you’ll grow to love what comes next in time. Everyone does eventually.”

Chris wanted to protest with all his might but not even his mouth was permitted to move by the strange energy binding him. It was impossible to scream for help, not that doing so would’ve made a difference. The only things he was able to move were his eyes that were darting around in a frantic manner.

“Well! Time for step two.” Wavell clasped his hands together with a smile. “But which piece will I store you in? Your tank top? Your socks maybe?” Wavell suggested as he inspected the gym wear Chris was wearing.

The body building champion had absolutely no clue what the hell this insane man was talking about and at this point he didn’t wanna know either. All he knew was that he needed to escape somehow. With that Chris scrunched his eyes shut and tried with every ounce of his strength to move one of his arms. A strained grunt rumbled from inside his throat as he fought against the purple energy but the most he could do was a slight bend in his elbow and a twitch of his fingers before he gave out. Despite how minimal the movement was though, Wavell seemed quite surprised.

“Impressive. That’s quite some willpower you’ve got there big man! Then again I suppose you’ve gotta have some serious mental and spiritual strength to maintain a body like that. I commend you but you might as well save your energy. You’re not going anywhere.” The warlock leaned in and kissed Chris on the cheek in an almost mocking fashion before whispering softly into his ear. “Besides, I’ve just figured out exactly what I’m gonna do with you.”

Without another second to spare Wavell crouched down only to grab the waist of Chris’ shorts and yank them down to his ankles, revealing the tight black boxer briefs underneath. “Ohhh wow…” Wavell muttered as he cupped the bodybuilder’s exceptional bulge. “It’s always the quiet and humble ones that are packing the most huh?” He teased while squeezing Chris’ package playfully. “Well I know for a fact that whoever ends up with this is gonna be a happy man.” With that Wavell stood up once again and looked the powerless man in the eyes. He could tell by the way Chris’ eyes were darting from side to side that he was trying his utmost to beg. Unfortunately for him no amount of begging was going to stop what was about to come next.

“Now. Are you ready?” The warlock asked with a growing smirk, one hand still firmly grasping the hunk’s hefty bulge. “I’ll take your silence as a yes.” And with that he sent a shock of magic that filled the fabric of Chris’ underwear, causing it to glow brightly. This in turn caused a rather intense wave of pleasure to ripple through Chris’ body originating from his boxers. His eyes couldn’t help but roll back as the wave of pleasure flowed over his entire frame before moving back towards his underwear again. And then it ripped out again. And again. It was like an ocean tide pulling back and forth. Flowing out across his body and then pulling back towards his now enchanted boxer briefs again. It was only after about 3 or so of these pulses that Chris began to feel himself getting… smaller? Almost as it was with each wave of magic that spread and pulled back into his underwear, part of his own body mass got pulled with it?!?!

The glorious muscular body of Chris Bumstead continued to shrink smaller and smaller as more of his being was converted into pure magical essence that became infused with his boxer briefs. It wasn’t long before he was even smaller than Wavell, a man he’d been towering over mere moments ago. He would’ve been terrified had it not been for the insurmountable euphoria that he was forcibly experiencing through it all. A euphoria so great in fact that he reached multiple orgasms! Jetting hefty load after load of cum that splattered and stained his underwear. It was so intense that he eventually faded from consciousness.

The very second Chris passed out there was a bright light that consumed what was left of his shrinking body and when it dissipated, the renowned body builder was nowhere to be seen. All that was left was his workout gear that fell to the floor in a sweaty heap, including the pair of freshly enchanted boxer briefs that now housed the sleeping soul of Chris Bumstead himself.

Mr Wavell leant down and scooped up the pile of clothes along with the socks and sneakers before placing them all on the nearby bench. Now there was just one final touch that had to be made. He waved a hand over the pile of clothes, placing another perception filter over the, that would make anyone who Wavell deemed unworthy of this gift unable to see or perceive the clothes. For example if by chance a roided out asshole happened upon them first, he would barely take any notice of them. Only those who were worthy of taking up the mantle of the kind and humble Mr Olympia would be able to see them. But with that Wavell decided his work here was done, turning himself invisible once again so he may sit back and simply enjoy the show. Opting to float up and sit atop the lockers and watch until someone received the present he’d left.

———

As Martin inched closer to the pile of sweaty gym clothes he’d stumbled across, that very same aroma he’d smelt back in the gym wafted over his nose. Yup those were Chris’ clothes alright. No doubt about it. He made sure to look left and right down the aisle to check that nobody was watching before sitting down on the bench beside the seemingly discarded clothes. It already felt as though his heart could explode with the anticipation alone. He just wanted to grab the tank top and press it flat against his face. But what if someone saw him? It was only his first day at this place and he didn’t wanna be labelled the gym weirdo who went around sniffing other dude’s clothes. But that smell… It was just so damn tempting. He checked around one last time before giving into his urges and swiping up the body builder’s tank top.

The next thing he knew Martin had a raging boner straining against his shorts as he held the damp tank top to his face. Unable to stop himself from deeply huffing and inhaling the strong musky scent of an alpha such as Chris Bumstead. Allowing it to overpower all of his senses and sink so deep that everything else faded away. Only him and the sweaty tank pressed against his nose existed in that moment. If there was a heaven, this is how he imagined it.

Slam!

The sound of a nearby locker closing tore Martin’s mind away from the haze with a sudden jolt. Luckily it seemed to have come from a different aisle. His face still went red however, praying that nobody had walked past and seen him. With a sigh he was about to set the tank top back down when something caught his eye. Inside the shorts was a pair of underwear that Chris must’ve been wearing. Already Martin’s mind was going a mile a minute imagining what the pouch of that gorgeous man’s underwear smelt like after a good workout. He just had to know! But he couldn’t risk anyone seeing him. A tank top was one thing but if he was caught sniffing another guy’s underwear in the locker room he’d be seen as a total perv and kicked out for sure.

Part of him thought of doing the right thing and leaving the clothes where they were but the urges of a horny gay man were a powerful thing which in this case Martin just couldn’t bring himself to ignore. So instead he settled on a plan. He scooped up Chris’ gear along with huge socks and sneakers the hunk had been wearing before dashing around the corner and locking himself in a private changing cubicle.

He knew what he was doing was wrong but he just couldn’t help himself! Before long the young and very horny gay man had stripped off his own clothes and begun jerking himself off furiously while digging his nose into the tank top once again. The smell was still so fresh. New sweat that’d only just poured from that Adonis’ body and absorbed into the fabric. It smelt fucking delicious and Martin wished he could savour it forever.

Soon after that his eyes settled on the huge size 13 sneakers. He grabbed one and yanked the white gym sock out from inside before burying his nose in it. It was incredibly damp with sweat and had an even stronger scent than the tank. But that only made it more intoxicating. After a good few minutes, Martin was only able to pull himself away from the sweaty sock to stuff his nose inside the massive sneaker it came from. And somehow that smell was even more pungent! No wonder. It was a heady mix of old sweat from previous workout mixed with the new fresher scent of today, forming an aroma so mind numbingly powerful that Martin could barely control himself. He had to let go of his cock for a moment just so he didn’t cum on the spot.

From there he must’ve spent god knows how long edging himself in that cubicle, trying not to cum or make too much noise. He switched feverishly between deeply inhaling the sneakers and rubbing the socks all over his face. Chris’ scent was so damn addictive. He found himself fantasising about Chris standing in the cubicle with him, imagining that it was actually the dreamy hunk himself who was holding the massive sneakers up to his face and forcing him to sniff it. The mere thought was enough to have him leaking a constant stream of precum.

It took a good long while but eventually Martin decided he’d had his fill of the sweaty socks and sneakers, for now anyway, and decided to get onto the main attraction he’d been saving until last. He glanced over at the shorts with a lustful grin. Without hesitation he dove his hand inside them and fished out the pair of black boxer briefs that were hidden inside. His pervy mind was already racing at the idea of sniffing both the front and back of them. But just as he was about to dig in he noticed something odd.

The pouch. It seemed damp. At first he thought it was just Chris’ ball sweat but it was more than that. It was… sticky? Curiously Martin checked the inside of the boxers and his eyes went wide. There was no way. That couldn’t be what he thought it was right? Pooled inside the pouch and partially absorbed into the fabric was an unmistakable sticky white substance. With his heart now beating out of his chest, Martin dipped a finger inside and scooped some up before sticking it in his mouth. There was no doubt about it.

It was cum.

Martin had just tasted Chris Bumstead’s cum! And it was delicious!!!

A million questions were racing through his mind right now. The biggest ones being: why the hell had that hunk of a man shot a load while at the gym? And even more importantly, why had he left his cum-filled underwear out for just anyone to find?! It didn’t make sense at all. When would Chris have even had time to do that? Not to mention Chris didn’t at all seem like the type to do something like that. Deep down a part of Martin’s brain was telling him this was fishy. Unfortunately that part of his brain was completely drowned out by the rest of his mind that horny beyond imagination right now.

“Oh well… If he’s that careless then I’m sure he won’t mind if I clean up his mess.” Martin muttered to himself while licking his lips.

He gently raised the boxers up to his face, grinning down at the soaked pouch before him. He was already starting to salivate at the sight. Martin always wanted to taste a bodybuilder's load and now he had the best of the best. Top of the line alpha male seed. And so, without another second of hesitation, Martin dove his tongue into the pool of fresh man milk and started licking away. He immediately found himself shivering with delight at the immaculate taste. Sure he’d tasted cum before but it was nothing like this! He could drink gallons of this stuff! Before long he was lapping it up like a feral animal! He had to make sure that he got every last drop of delicious stud cum. And just when you’d think it couldn’t get any better, the flavour was even further enhanced by the taste of Chris’ sweaty balls mixed in.

By the time he’d finished lapping it all up, Martin was a hot mess. He found himself sitting with the underwear draped over his face, sniffing and tasting the delicious groin sweat from it idly. With a belly full of Mr Olympia grade cum, all he could think to do now was wrapping Chris’ damp tank top around his ridiculously hard cock and jacking it until he burst. And that’s exactly what he did, pumping away as he lost himself completely in all the smells and sensations. Edging as much as humanly possible while trying to savour the moment as much as he could. It didn’t even feel real. He thought that at any moment he was gonna wake up back home in his bed after having the best wet dream of his life. And yet he didn’t. This was reality.

Martin was just about ready to shoot his load and glaze Chris’ tank top with it when he was stopped by the perfect idea that suddenly popped to mind.

Next thing you know he’s jumping up off the seat and smiling giddily as he glances at the cubicle mirror. There was just one last thing he had to try before he stuffed these clothes into his gym bag to take home and treasure forever. He had to wear them.

He didn’t waste any time. He began by snatching up the boxer briefs again before stepping into them and pulling them up over his ass. Admittedly they looked more like baggy boxers on him than fitted boxer briefs. They were mainly being held up by the waist band and the tent his dick was making in the front. The feeling of which sent shivers up his spine as the tip of his cock brushed against the dampness where Chris’ load had been. Then after taking a second to appreciate how amazing it felt to wear Chris Bumstead’s underwear, Martin swiftly moved on by grabbing the shorts next. He slid his legs inside and pulled them up before securing them in place by tying the drawstrings tightly. Once again something that would’ve been ordinary gym shorts for a hunk like Chris looked more like huge basketball shorts on Martin. That didn’t make it any less hot though. This was then followed by him slipping the tank top over his head in one smooth motion. It slipped off his shoulders once or twice but he eventually got it to stay in place. At last he was able to bask his upper body in the warm musky aroma of the tank top in the hopes that it would stick to him. After that, all that was left was footwear Chris had left behind.

The huge damp white socks were first. After giving them each one last quick sniff, Martin reached and pulled on each over-sized sock, drenching his feet in Chris Bumstead’s sweat. He couldn’t help rolling his eyes a little in ecstasy at the mere feeling. Once he’d had a chance to enjoy wiggling his toes inside the sweat stained socks, it was time at last for the sneakers. Getting to slip his average sized feet inside those enormous things felt like an orgasm in of itself. He tried his absolute best not to bust as he felt his socked feet suddenly being wrapped in the hot sweaty musk that was trapped inside those pungent sneakers.

And with that his naughty little cosplay was complete.

After all that Martin could only grin cheekily as he looked at himself in the full length mirror. Sure the size difference might’ve made him look like a kid swamped in his dad’s clothes, but he couldn’t deny that it was still hot as fuck. Especially knowing that he was wearing the exact same clothes Chris himself had been wearing less than an hour ago. The adrenaline pumping through his system right now had Martin on cloud nine as he committed every detail of this to memory.

“What’s up? My name’s Chris Bumstead.” He snickered at his reflection while trying his best to imitate Chris’ voice.. “I bet you’re wondering what my secret to looking like a muscle god is. Truth is I just get really horny while working out and bust a nut after my session. Totally helps the gains.” Martin continued half mockingly as he flexed one of his arms, imagining it was Chris showing his mouthwatering biceps. He continued to mutter all sorts of pervy things and imagine it was the real Chris saying them all the while listening to make sure nobody outside the cubicle overheard him. Little did he know that one person in particular had seen and heard everything.

Wavell had watched idly as Martin had crept over to the pile of clothes earlier and swept them up. It’d been a treat getting to see this horny young man goon for around half an hour over the famous bodybuilder’s scent. Honestly Wavell couldn’t blame him one bit. After all he’d given Chris’ clothes a quick sniff as well before leaving them to be claimed and that scent was divine. “Now that he’s wearing them it should start any second now…” Mr Wavell mumbled to himself as he watched Martin curiously. And as if on cue, the black boxer briefs began to emit a soft purple glow. “Yuuup… here we go.”

Martin didn’t seem to take any notice of the glow at first as it was concealed underneath the shorts. He only noticed something strange was going on when the magic glow became bright enough that its light began to seep out of his stolen shorts. “H-hey what!? What the h-hell?!” He was about to pull off the shorts in a panic to see what was going on down there but before he had the chance there was a shooting sensation that flooded his body like a lightning bolt, causing him to seize up a little. “Uuuuuoooaaahhh… What the… fuuuuuuuuck…” Martin groaned without much control. He felt an indescribable mix of pain and pleasure that sparked through every nerve and muscle in his being. His brain struggled to keep up with the sudden overstimulation and couldn’t decide whether it loved or hated the feeling.

He would’ve been more worried about this had it not been for the rising heat in his chest. He could barely comprehend the feeling. It was like… something was building itself up? Martin only realised what was truly happening when he glanced down at himself to see that his once unimpressive chest was now surging forwards with muscle in pulsing waves of growth. He could hardly believe his eyes as he watched himself grow a hefty pair of pecs that began to slowly fill out the front of the stolen tank top. As they expanded he could feel his torso stretching and broadening slightly to accompany his growing chest until they reached the size of massive watermelons! The shock of it all caused Martin to stumble a little before falling onto his hands and knees with the weight of his new meaty muscle tits weighing him down. They looked bizarrely out of place on his small frame but not for much longer…

“What t-the fuck… Is h-happening… to meeeee?!” He just about managed to grunt out while attempting to pull himself back up but to no avail. Not when his back suddenly decided to follow the same example as his chest. After his pecs, the rest of his growing torso upper body kicked into full gear with its fantastical growth. Ridges and contours of hard earned definition began etching themselves onto Martin’s back as it grew huge and wide with newfound muscle! His arms were forced to spread apart some more as his lats flared out like the wings of a true bodybuilder. Before Martin could even comprehend that however, his shoulders ballooned into monstrous cannonballs that only served to widen his upper body further. Even his traps bulged and expanded before his neck thickened into. Suddenly the sweaty tank top wasn’t hanging off him so loosely anymore…

His confused moans echoed not only through his little cubicle but across the entire locker room. And yet nobody seemed to take any notice. Not even as he let out a roar when his arms and hands started to grow. He watched as his fingers stretched longer, each digit thickening as callous’ began to form along his expanding palms. Marks to symbolise years of long hard dedication to the gym. Even more eye-catching however was the sight of Martin’s once average looking arms beginning to hulk out as veins snaked up his inflating forearms while his biceps and triceps swelled to sizes bigger than he ever could have dreamed of. Soon enough his biceps and triceps had bulked up to monstrous sizes with his forearms following suit. Even his hands weren’t safe as they thickened up.

Martin gritted his teeth as he felt what little fat he’d once had around his belly evaporate to make way for a thick and powerful set of abs that cobbled themselves onto his stomach, Martin was given a few seconds of momentary relief to catch his breath. “M-my body!? H-H-How!? I don’t… I…” He stumbled through his words in a panic, not knowing how the hell to even begin articulating his feelings right now. Especially as he glanced up into the mirror, still kneeling on all fours. His build looked like that of a human gorilla with the comical size difference between his gigantic upper body and relatively small lower body in comparison. In fact he doubted he could even stand properly as he was!

It didn’t take long for the transformative heat to return in full force. For as freaked out as he was right now, Martin didn’t know if he should be worried or relieved. Regardless, the intense sensation began to focus itself on his lower half. More specifically his ass first which didn’t waste any time blowing itself up with newfound mass. What was once a fairly average backside ballooned into a massive bubble butt carved from thick muscle that could harden into buns of steel with a single flex. He even let out a long and pleasurable moan as his asshole found itself tightening significantly. Suddenly the stolen shorts and briefs he was wearing looked far less baggy than before, now stretching over his thick bubble ass rather nicely.

Just then his eyes went wide with both fear and a little bit of underlying excitement after feeling where the warm sensation had shifted to next. “Oooh god oooh fuuuck…” he groaned nervously as it focused on none other than his cock and balls. Thankfully, just like the rest of his body, even they started to expand rapidly. His balls grew into a pair of huge cum-filled alpha male that only churned the most premium cum imaginable. Meanwhile his already hard cock engorged into a girthy ten inch anaconda, that didn’t just fill but stretched out the pouch of his stolen underwear perfectly! Feeling this Martin couldn’t help but allow a dumb grin to spread across his face. “Ughhhhfff… I’m huge huhuhuhuh…” He chuckled as the now much larger and obscene tent in his shorts bucked excitedly.

He’d become so distracted by the size of his new manhood and crown jewels that Martin almost didn’t notice his legs starting to get absolutely juiced. It started slow at first with his thighs and calves pulsing with a tiny bit of extra size and definition. It wasn’t long however before a strained growl escaped his clenched mouth as both legs began stretching out longer, bumping him up to a staggering 6’1. Something he’d soon find out when he was eventually able to stand up. But as soon as his legs finished elongating, his quads and hamstrings erupted with an explosion of bulging muscle mass causing another roar to escape his lips. In mere moments he’d been granted the thighs of the century but it wasn’t done there. Moments later Martin found himself cooing in pleasurable discomfort as his calves pumped up to the size of footballs while looking hard as diamond. Finally Martin’s body was starting to look proportionate again but there was one last part of his lower body that needed changing.

Finally his toes started to curl and wriggle inside the hot sneakers. Right now they still felt like clown shoes on him but not for much longer. Martin was just about able to stifle another moan as his feet started expanding, growing longer and meatier by the second. The free space inside Chris’ sneakers swiftly began to fill as even the sweaty white socks started to fit better around his enlarging feet. Growing upwards from size 9 to size 10 then 11 and even 12!? Only stopping when his feet finally fit snugly inside the enormous pungent size 13 sneakers! At last Martin had the exact kind of huge manly feet he’d secretly dreamt of either having or worshipping.

By this point Martin simply looked like a hulking bodybuilder version of himself but that would soon change. All of the distinct features across his body that made Martin unique began to fade only to be replaced with unique qualities of another man. Whether those features be blemishes, body hair, tattoos or even the tone of his skin! The only semblance of his old self left now was his head. Though, judging by the way his face was starting to heat up, that likely wouldn’t be the case for much longer.

It began with his neck bulging a little, his adam’s apple changing and altering his voice in a way that made it drop a couple octaves. That was the least concerning of the right now though as his facial features started to shift. His jaw began to widen as Martin’s once soft chin squared off with a sharp masculinity. His cheekbones rose up slightly, forming an angular structure in tandem with his jaw that was taut and defined. His brows thickened while his eyes took on a newfound mix of softness and intensity. The eyes of a kind beast. His nose broadened slightly as it tapered into a strong bridge. All the while his changing features made sure to reposition themselves as even his head reshaped slightly. As soon as they were all in place, thick stubble broke out across his larger jaw which swiftly grew into well groomed facial hair that framed his new handsome mug perfectly. Even his hair restyled in process while lightening in colour from black to a rich brown.

After all that his mind was spinning like crazy but the good news was that whatever had been spreading through him and changing his body had finally dissipated, leaving him on the floor sweaty and exhausted. He gave himself a moment to gather his strength before pulling himself up off the ground.

He was disoriented to say the least. His new body trembled slightly as he pushed himself up onto his massive new feet that filled out Chris’ large sneakers perfectly now. He stumbled for a moment as he found his balance with all this unfamiliar weight before looking down at his enormous hands. Needless to say he was still in shock over it all. Looking down at himself, Martin no longer saw the lean average build he was used to seeing everyday. Instead stared down in awe at the huge hulking form of a professional bodybuilder. Huge hefty pecs, colossal biceps, hulking thighs. All of which allowed him to perfectly fill out these massive gym clothes. The real shock came however when he finally glanced up to look in the mirror once more…

“Holy fuck!” He shouted with a stunned look on his face. Only it wasn’t his face anymore. Staring back at him was none other than the three time classic Mr Olympia himself! The very man Martin had countless saved pictures of for jerking over. The hunk who’d starred in more than one of his wet dreams over the last few years. There was no mistaking it. His hands shot up towards his new face, inspecting his features to be sure they were real before running his hands through his hair and beard. This sculpted body… This gorgeous face…

“I-I’m… I’m Chris fucking Bumstead!!” He announced, almost not believing his own words as they spilled out in a new unfamiliar voice.

Mr Wavell had witnessed the entire thing go down, invisible as usual. “Mmm… now that was hot.” He hummed to himself as he watched as the new hunk admired his reflection with glee and disbelief. “Maybe I should stick around for a while and see how this plays out.” He shrugged. It was always fun to watch how his subjects adjusted to their new lives and bodies.

175 notes · View notes

windyremedy · 23 hours ago

Text

title: puppy pleads 💥

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

scenario: realizing that katsuki does everything you want ft. my dad with the dog he said he didn’t want

Takeshi Bakugou compared to his other siblings listened to his parents the best. Not that the others don’t but by far he’s the quickest to respond doing whatever they asked, whether it be to go sleep on time or help sweep the floors. But one thing’s for certain and something he probably got from his father is that he’s unshaken when he sets his mind to something and that something he wants is a pet, a companion if you will.

But no matter how much times he asks and pleads they always seemed to tell him no. Well more specifically his dad refused, telling him that they’re too messy and require a lot of work. Takeshi understood that they probably couldn’t afford taking care of another living being especially since they had their hands full with his baby sister but c’mon he was feeling lonely. After his oldest brother left for U.A early and his other brother busy with presedential club duties things were just too quiet for his liking.

Don’t get things twisted though he didn’t feel left out with his parents. In fact he adores his baby sister and loves being an older brother after being the youngest for so long but can’t a boy just get another pal?

“Mom can you please convince dad to agree.” he begged as you sat there amused on a kitchen stool, feeding Asami a spoon of baby food.

“Love he tells me no too y’know.” you informed laughing slightly at his incredulous expression.

“Impossible!” he exclaims in total disbelief.

“It’s true, remember when he was on that one long month mission and you wanted to gonna sleep in our room because you missed your dad so much you wanted to sleep on his side of the bed because it smelled like him.”

“Yeah what about that time?” he asked skeptically.

“I asked him for a specific snack but it was already too late to get anything.” you replied wiping Asami’s messy mouth.

“But then he bought some coming home though, a few days after he got back he secretly ordered online and got them for you.” Takeshi pointed out with pinched eyebrows and a detective pout.

“Oh! I guess you’re right. Well there was also the time where I wanted to get another plushie for Asami but he said there was already too many.”

“Uh huh and he bought that too when you weren’t looking.” he confidently retorts.

“But….”

“Got you that too…”

“Also…”

“Surprised you…”

“That time…”

“Actually…”

And many more instances where you remembered Katsuki had told you no but actually in fact got what you wanted anyway.

“Okay! okay, maybe he doesn’t say no to me a lot.” you admitted, now realizing that fact.

“At all.” He corrected.

“Fine, I’ll ask your dad but I’m not promising anything kay? now can you please get more tissues before— wait Asami no!” you pried her little arms from trying to eat the food around her face with her palms.

“Kay!!” Takeshi smiled avoiding the messy onslaught and already looking like he just got what he wanted.

three months later

“Dad you can’t be giving Snowball too many snacks.” Takeshi laughed at the sight.

The small little puppy laying peacefully on the large hulking figure whose expression can send enemies running was a whiplash to see for sure. He had just gotten back from school and the new addition in to the family seemed to be fitting in perfectly. Takeshi knew just a couple weeks after his mom asked that his dad would give in.

“He wanted a treat, I can’t not give him a treat. What do you want me to do? not give him a treat? I have to give him a treat.”

“Okay dad.”

©windyremedy

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #remfics☁️

195 notes · View notes

coqhee · 16 hours ago

Text

﹙✧﹚ SUMMER ⁺⊹₊ 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗇𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈

IN WHICH ✷ your best friend is your bf just for the summer

엔하이픈 x f!r ― fluff + eensy bit of angst + crack ⨯ 876O ⨯ friends to lovers + cursing + brainrot/gen z/a terms + mutual pining + pet names

em's note ★ this fic was originally for jungwons birthday but guess who's 2 months late,, dot dot dot. this one's semi-based on summer by keshi. anyways I miss summer sm what the heck :( ∘ ∘ ∘ more

─── ♡

the cool breeze in contrast with the summer nighttime humid air sent a rare shiver down your spine this time of year. you pulled your jacket a little closer around yourself, the distant hum of traffic fading away as you walked further away from your workplace.

for a moment you forget you have your best friend jungwon (and temporary coworker, though you wish he’d get fired already for being making you laugh all shift and lose pace) walking beside you until he interrupts your thoughts with some dumb comment about a new game coming out.

“so are you gonna play with me or not?” jungwon nudged your arm lightly, his voice taking on that playful whine he always used when he wanted something from you.

you blinked, snapping out of your thoughts, and shot him a half-hearted glare. “i’ll think about it.”

jungwon scoffed. “what’s there to think about? just say yes.”

you rolled your eyes, tucking your hands into your jacket pockets. “you act like i have all the time in the world.”

“and that’s because you do,” his eyes widened pointing the truth out. “you literally wake up, eat, sit on your phone for what, 6 hours? then go to work, come home and sit on your phone, then sleep,”

to which you lightly curse him out telling him to quote ‘eat shit’. which he does holding a proud grin right after. jungwon only chuckled, clearly pleased with himself for getting under your skin. he stuffed his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels as you both continued walking.

to be fair, he wasn’t entirely wrong. except for those ‘6 hours’ on your phone more specifically being time spent on your phone facetiming jungwon while he plays games.

“anyway,” he said, dragging the word out, “if you’re not gonna spend your time gaming with me, what are you planning to do this summer?”

“get a boyfriend maybe, you never know,” you grin

jungwon snorted, shooting you an unimpressed look. “yeah, right. you?” he looks you up and down and hosts a disgusted look on his face.

you raised an eyebrow. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i mean,” he shrugged, “be so for real with me right now. you think you’re just gonna pull a boyfriend out of your ass?”

you rolled your eyes, nudging his arm. “rude. i could if i wanted to, i just choose not to thank you.”

that and the fact your parents would kill you before you even talked to a boy that wasn’t jungwon. even if your parents would let you have a boyfriend, the only one allowed would be jungwon as he’s a quote “boy and a friend”

it wasn’t just because he was your best friend. they’d known him since you were both little kids—since the first time he helped you with that science project in middle school, when you cried because you had procrastinated and your idea wasn’t working as expected. when you were both still in the awkward phase of school dances and sleepovers. they loved him like he was family, and as far as they were concerned, he was family.

jungwon snorted, clearly unimpressed. “uh huh. keep telling yourself that.”

you shot him a look. “excuse me?”

“i’m just saying,” he smirked, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket, “if you really could, you would’ve done it by now.”

your mouth opened in offense. “okay, first of all—”

“nah, nah, don’t even start,” he cut you off, grinning. “no game. no rizz. zero bitches. zero aura. no roster.”

you gasped dramatically. “i’m telling you i could bag a boyfriend whenever i want, won.”

“prove it.”

you narrowed your eyes, stepping in front of him and pointing a finger at his chest. “fine. i will.”

jungwon raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “yeah? where’s he at, then?”

you faltered for a split second before crossing your arms as well, matching his stance as you stop to hit the button at the crosswalk. “i just haven’t picked one yet.”

“mhmm,” he hummed, unconvinced.

you wracked your brain for a way to turn this around, and then it hit you. you smirked. “actually… how about you?”

jungwon blinked. “what?”

“you heard me,” you said, tilting your head. “if you’re so sure i can’t get a boyfriend, then you be my boyfriend. just for the summer.”

he stared at you like you’d lost your mind. “you want me to fake date you… because i said you couldn’t get a boyfriend? you’re like actually psycho.”

his words were pure venom to any outside person, yet you knew as soon as you had brought up the idea, essentially he was already agreeing to it by just being near you. obviously.

you raised an eyebrow, trying to hide the smirk tugging at your lips. "oh, so you're not up for the challenge? thought you liked proving me wrong."

jungwon scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away for a moment, clearly trying to process your words. "this is insane. what’s in it for me?" he asked, his tone still incredulous, but you could tell he wasn’t entirely dismissing the idea.

"come on," you teased, "it'll be fun. and, hey, maybe it'll even help you get some street cred with the ladies. people from school will think we’re a thing, and you can enjoy all the benefits of being my fake boyfriend without any real commitment."

he rolled his eyes dramatically but the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "right, because getting fake affection from you is definitely my dream summer."

the crosswalk symbol turns green as the two of you continue walking onwards. “see! you’re already basically my boyfriend cause’ you’re walking me home, how sweet, i’m flattered,”

“we literally work together and live next to each other. you’re insane,” he deadpanned, but one good look into your eyes, he knew his name was already signed up to do this for the summer. he groaned, running a hand through his hair. "i swear, you’re lucky i’m a good friend."

"you’re doing this because you love me, jungwon," you said with a grin, nudging his side.

"yeah, yeah, try not to actually fall in love though," he muttered, but the faint smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.

who knew getting a boyfriend was this easy?

─── ♡

ride or die: gm honey

ride or die: did you sleep well?

to say that you didn’t physically recoil seeing those texts would be a lie. your face contorted with a mixture of concern, your eyebrows furrowing just reading the word honey. you couldn’t deny that you felt some mixture of butterflies erupt in your stomach, but you’re pretty sure it’s just the pet name and not that it was from jungwon

y/n: wtf y/n: who tf is honey

ride or die: stfu im method acting as your bf rn be grateful

y/n: method acting is crazy

y/n: your ahh is NOT an A list actor

ride or die: i could be though ngl. i’m a dedicated asf honey

y/n: who tf is honey: neverrrrr text me like this again

ride or die: good id rather kms than do that again ride or die: anyways be ready by 2, we’re going out

y/n: ??? going where

ride or die: idk either!

you groaned at your phone screen, swiping down to see the time.

1:30 pm.

you panickedly rushed out of bed, tripping on the chair in between you and your closet and began searching for some resemblance of an outfit. clothes flew from your closet to the chair, a heap of fabric now piling up one what you could’ve once called a place to sit.

you yanked a sweatshirt from the pile, held it up, then threw it aside. too casual. next came a sundress—immediately vetoed. too much.

why do you care what he sees you wear. i mean he wasn’t even your actual boyfriend. you don’t dress up for men, let alone jungwon of all people. he’s seen you in the worst phases of your life. from your pink and only pink elementary school phase, to late-night convenience store runs in mismatched pajamas while crying over an ex boyfriend. he’d really seen it all.

it’s just a hangout really, like the thousands of other times you’ve hung out. so why were you standing here, holding two different shirts like it was some life-altering decision? was it because you cared what he thought

your fingers finally landed on some anime tshirt from a convention and some (probably unwashed) cargos you thrifted. good enough.

you grabbed your phone to check the time.

1:48 pm.

"shit."

ride or die: ur not ready are u

you rolled your eyes.

y/n: i’m literally done rn calm down diva

ride or die: uh huh ok

you slipped your shoes halfway on your feet, rushing out to see jungwon through the passenger side window staring at his phone laughing to himself (probably scrolling reels).

you made your way over to the car, still shoving your feet into your shoes, putting them on in the process of walking, yanking repeatedly on the car handle while reaching down to finally put on your shoes correctly.

jungwon looked up unamused and unlocked the door, whilst you slid in. "made it," you said, slightly out of breath.

he gave you a once-over. "not bad," he said with an amused smile. "i was fully expecting pajamas."

"well, i try to exceed expectations."

he pushed off the wall and fell into step beside you. "good. 'cause our first date can't start with you in your 'i took a shit today t-shirt."

you groaned. "that was one time. and for your information, multiple people found it funny."

"mm-hm."

“so where exactly are we going?” you asked, pulling your seatbelt across your chest.

jungwon shrugged as he shifted into drive. “i told you. i don’t know. just... somewhere.”

you shot him a look. “you dragged me out of bed, made me sprint around my room like a lunatic, and you don’t even have a plan?”

“not having a plan is the plan,” he said, eyes twinkling as he turned onto the main road. “besides, isn't that what couples do? just drive around aimlessly until they end up at target or the mall?”

you rolled your eyes before pulling out your phone to text your parents who were away at work that you were going to go hang out with jungwon. to which they “thumbs upped’ your text.

jungwon glanced over at you, noticing your thumbs flying across the screen. “letting your fan club know where you are?”

“you wish,” you muttered. “just telling my parents we’re hanging out.”

“oh, then i’m officially approved, huh?” he said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “they probably think this is a date.”

“they probably think every time we hang out is a date,” you replied. “you’re literally their dream come true.”

jungwon let out a dramatic sigh. “great. can’t wait to get the ‘you two should just date for real’ speech at the next barbecue.”

“or the classic ‘why can’t you find someone like jungwon’ lecture,” you added, mimicking your mom’s voice.

jungwon shot you a side glance, his lips curving into a teasing smirk. “uh huh, now where are we going? you pick, pretty girl.”

you nearly choked on your own breath. “don’t call me that.”

“why not? i’m just staying in character.” he turned his attention back to the road, the smirk still plastered across his face. “you should be grateful i’m such a committed boyfriend.”

“committed to being annoying,” you muttered, shoving your phone into your pocket. “fine. let’s go get ice cream or something.”

jungwon nodded, signaling to turn. “ice cream. classic couple move. solid choice, honey.”

you groaned, sinking into your seat. “i hate this already.”

jungwon just laughed. “you’re the one who asked me to date you.”

─── ♡

“...and also one scoop of strawberry swirl with a waffle cone. it’s her favorite, but she’s trying to act cool. so just that and the rocky road please.”

the girl behind the counter smiled politely as she scooped the ice cream. “oh, that’s cute. you know her order.”

“sure do,” jungwon nodded, ending the conversation as he turned back to you.

you furrowed your brows, squinting at him. since when did jungwon actually know your order and not order you some diabolical weird flavor. jungwon gave a blank stare back, then turned back to the counter to grab the two cups.

"what?" he asked, not looking at you. "you’re acting like i don’t know you or something."you shook your head, still a little confused. “i’m just surprised you would actually order something i like and not their ‘exotic’ flavors.”

“like their vanilla and balsamic vinegar,” you coughed under your breath. “woah that’s crazy who said that.”

he rolled his eyes in response and tapped his phone to the register to pay. "i had to suffer through that once to know you wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole. hence why you suffer with me."

the two of you walked to a two seater table outside watching the many rich cars that went by continuing your conversation.

“so, am i a good boyfriend.. or am i good boyfriend?” jungwon asked with confidence, his eyes following a sleek black sports car that zoomed by, the sound of its engine filling the brief silence between you.

you scoffed, taking a bite of your ice cream. “debatable.”

jungwon turned to you, feigning offense. “debatable? i literally remembered your order. if that’s not boyfriend material, i don’t know what is.”

“ that was quite literally bare minimum,” you teased, waving your spoon. “but i’ll admit, i expected worse.”

there was a pause, just the sound of passing cars and distant chatter filling the air. then, jungwon spoke again, more casual this time.

"so, do i have to do all the heavy lifting in this relationship, or are you gonna start acting like my girlfriend too?"

you rolled your eyes. "what, you want me to start holding your hand and gazing into your eyes lovingly?"

he smirked. "wouldn’t hurt."

you went to throw a napkin at him, but he dodged easily, laughing. "hey, i'm just saying, you talk a big game, but if we’re committing to this, you gotta step up."

"oh, please," you scoffed. "you’re lucky i even suggested this in the first place. it’s a good look for you. ‘loser senior jungwon bags a baddie’."

jungwon tilted his head, eyes scanning your face like he was studying you. "yeah," he said after a beat, "guess i am."

there was something about the way he said it—like it held more weight than the conversation called for. it sat there, unspoken, lingering between the two of you as he nonchalantly scooped another bite of his ice cream. you weren’t sure why, but something about it made you shift in your seat, suddenly hyper aware of the casualness of his voice in contrast to the meaning behind his words.

but instead of addressing it, you did what you always did—brushed it off. you can’t be going crazy only a day in.

“you know,” jungwon started again, breaking the silence. “you never answered my question.”

you blinked. “what question?”

he turned back to you, tilting his head. “am i a good boyfriend? or just a good boyfriend?”

you rolled your eyes, exasperated. “are you gonna keep fishing for compliments or actually eat your ice cream?”

“you’re avoiding the question.”

“because it’s a dumb question.”

jungwon leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “sounds like you just don’t wanna admit that i’m doing a great job.”

you scoffed. “we’re literally fake dating. the bar is on the floor, six feet under even. my standards are so much higher than you,”

“just scared to admit i’m the best i know, you can thank me at the end of the summer,”

you ignored the way your heart skipped at the if we were real part, instead focusing on scraping the bottom of your cup. “sure, won. whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“see? that’s your problem,” he teased. “you’re all talk, but when it comes down to it, you’re bad at playing along.”

you narrowed your eyes. “excuse me?”

he leaned back again, looking far too smug for your liking. “we’re fake dating, honey. at least pretend to be obsessed with me.”

you stared at him, unamused. “you wish i was obsessed with you.”

jungwon grinned. “see? that’s exactly what someone obsessed with me would say.”

you groaned, throwing your crumpled napkin at him, which he easily dodged, laughing. but despite the playful banter, despite the way he was obviously messing with you, something about the conversation felt like it was stepping in and out of the line that bordered between friends and more than that.

a line that neither of you were acknowledging.

─── ♡

as the new two weeks passed, the whole fake dating thing started feeling less like a bit and more like something else—something you didn’t want to put a name to.

at first, it was just like every other time you hung out with jungwon. same dynamic, same banter, same comfortable familiarity. but now, there was a difference. a shift so subtle it was almost unnoticeable—almost.

when it was just the two of you, things felt normal—like nothing had changed. jungwon was still the same jungwon who teased you relentlessly, who knew exactly how to push your buttons but also when to stop. you were still you, rolling your eyes at his antics but never actually pushing him away.

but when other people were around? that was when the difference became obvious.

it was in the way jungwon would throw an arm around your shoulders so casually, like it was second nature. the way he’d lean in closer than necessary when talking to you, his voice dropping just slightly. the way he’d call you honey or pretty girl without a second thought, like the words belonged to you.

and the worst part? is how he’d continue on even after people had left.

like the time you ran into your friend yunjin at the convenience store and his arm immediately slithered around your waist. how the two of you watched yunjin jump with delight and call out “finally!” then, even after you parted ways with her, his arm remained, as if he forgot, but it seemed intentional the way he just ‘did it out of instinct’.

his fingers tapped lightly against your side, like he was absentmindedly tracing a pattern only he knew. you had waited for him to pull away, to step back now that the audience was gone—but he didn’t.

when you got to the diner for work, ready in uniform to go clean tables for 8 hours a day at minimum wage monday morning, jungwon was already there, waiting at your desk with a grin like he had all the time in the world.

“morning, honey,” he greeted, voice light, teasing.

you sighed, setting your bag down. “we’re at work, jungwon. chill.”

he leaned back in your chair, arms crossed. “so? couples work together all the time.”

“yeah, real ones.”

“ouch,” he deadpanned. “so cruel this early in the morning.”

before you could respond, your boss strolled by, offering a knowing smile. “you two make such a cute couple,” they commented before disappearing down the hall.

jungwon turned back to you, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “see? real ones.”

you groaned, taking your card off the wall and clocking in.

“you know what today is right?” jungwon smirked with confidence and pride, thoroughly enjoying this stupid agreement that you had first brought up.

“no, what,”

jungwon gasped, clutching his chest like you’d just insulted his entire bloodline. “wow. i cannot believe this.”

you gave him a blank stare. “just say it.”

he leaned in slightly, like he was about to drop the most important news of the century. “it’s our two-weekversary.”

you blinked. “our what?”

“two weeks of this beautiful relationship,” he said, dramatically wiping a fake tear. “two weeks of love, commitment, and unwavering devotion—”

“okay, shakespeare wrap it up. you are in public, do not pull this shit right now,” you muttered, shoving him lightly as you both made your way to start prepping utensils and napkins for tables.

jungwon, still grinning, grabbed a stack of napkins and started folding them with practiced ease. “so, how does it feel?”

you raised a brow. “how does what feel?”

he glanced at you, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “being my girlfriend for two whole weeks. life-changing, right?”

you snorted, rolling up silverware. “oh, totally. i don’t know how i ever survived without you.”

jungwon chuckled, but instead of firing back immediately, he let a beat pass. then, casually, he said, “well, i kinda like it.”

your hands froze for half a second before you shook it off. “fake dating? yeah, i guess it’s not the worst.”

“no,” he corrected, voice lighter, but still deliberate. “just… being your boyfriend.”

you looked up at him, but he was focused on his task, fingers smoothing over the napkin edges. you were unsure of how to react, so you just shrugged, trying to act casual, though your heart had picked up pace.

you swallowed, forcing a scoff. “yeah, yeah. you’re really selling it.”

jungwon finally looked at you, eyes warm, teasing—but something else, too.

“who says i’m selling anything?” he murmured.

before you could process that, the door jingled as customers walked in, pulling you both back into reality.

jungwon straightened up, tossing a napkin at you. “anyway, anniversary dinner. you in or what?”

you rolled your eyes, grabbing a menu. “depends. are you actually paying this time?”

he smirked. “for you? always.”

you ignored the way your chest tightened slightly at that, chalking it up to the lingering effects of his dramatics.

yeah. that had to be it.

the whole day at work he kept making glances at you and smiling, though not the teasing ones or the ones where he’d conveniently look over when you would make mistakes, and laugh at you. or when he would take over the overfill tables or yell at customers to get out cause you didn’t have the heart to.

throughout the day, you found yourself acting differently too—not in a huge, obvious way, but in small things that didn’t feel all that fake.

like when he forgot to tie his apron properly, and you rolled your eyes but fixed it for him anyway, muttering, “seriously, how do you function.”

or when he barely had time to eat during the lunch rush, and without thinking, you slid half of your sandwich onto his tray, acting nonchalant. “don’t make it weird. just eat.”

he blinked at you, then took a bite with a small, knowing smile. “wow. you do care.”

you scoffed. “debatable.”

and everytime he would say “hey, pretty girl,” or “hey honey,” you turned at the nickname. one that should’ve made you roll your eyes, but instead, it sent a weird warmth through you, though it was really just the nickname. if your #1 enemy also called you honey, or pretty girl you would also be a blushing mess, right..?

it was different watching him look out for you now and you looking out for him. and in a way you hoped this could still persist when you went back to being friends.

but when you gave it another thought, what were you thinking? this was just practice experience being a girlfriend and caring for someone in not just a friend way.

─── ♡

jungwon had asked you one day if you would’ve ever considered waking up at 3am to watch the sunrise, to which you told him to hell with that idea.

there was absolutely 0 way you were down to wake up that early just to see the sunrise then immediately go back to sleep.

but then one night, around 1am, as you both sat lazily on your porch with empty slushie cups and a half-finished bag of spicy chips between you, he tilted his head and said, “what if we just… didn’t sleep?”

and for some reason—maybe because he looked at you with that grin, soft and challenging at the same time—you nodded. “okay, fine. but if i pass out in the car, that’s on you.”

you ended up in the trunk of his car, parked on a small hill just outside town. he’d folded the back seats down, thrown in a bunch of old blankets and pillows, and even brought snacks he knew you liked. it was quiet except for the occasional hum of cicadas and your favorite playlist playing softly through his phone speaker.

you both lay on your backs, watching the sky shift slowly from ink-black to a deep navy, the stars beginning to dim one by one.

“this is kind of nice,” you mumbled sleepily, your cheek pressed into one of the throw pillows.

jungwon laughed, low and quiet. “kind of?”

you turned your head just enough to see him beside you, his arm bent behind his head, eyes wide open and reflecting the first signs of light.

“okay, very,” you admitted.

time slowed down in that little space. the air between you was warm with sleep-deprived comfort. you felt his pinky graze yours where your hands lay between you, and neither of you moved away.

you shifted a little, your shoulder brushing his as you tried to get more comfortable, but then his arm lifted slightly in invitation.

“come here,” he said, barely above a whisper.

you hesitated for a second, heartbeat skittering with nerves, before moving closer, slowly, carefully. your head found its place just over his heart, your cheek pressing softly into the fabric of his hoodie. he let his arm rest gently around your waist, not pulling you in, not forcing anything—just… there.

the steady thump of his heartbeat was all you could hear for a while. it was soft, slow, grounding. you found yourself syncing your breathing with his without even meaning to.

he didn’t say anything, and neither did you. you didn’t have to. the silence said enough.

his heart kept beating under your ear, like it had all this time, like it always would, and it felt safe. like home. like maybe you’d been leaning toward this moment all summer without realizing it.

and then the sun finally peeked up over the horizon, casting everything in soft gold and pale pink.

you didn’t even bother looking at it for long. instead, you glanced sideways again, just to see how he looked in the morning light.

he must’ve felt it, because he turned, catching your gaze.

and instead of looking away this time, you just stayed there, hearts beating softly in sync, eyes saying more than either of you dared to speak aloud.

─── ♡

“yknow maybe we should tell our parents that we’re dating,” jungwon suggested absent mindedly, causing you to actually spit out the matcha rose boba you had just taken a sip of a second ago.

you coughed, choking a little as you reached for a napkin, your eyes wide. “excuse me?”

he just blinked at you like you were being dramatic. “what? it’s not that crazy of an idea. they already think we are.”

you stared at him. “yeah, and we’ve done a fantastic job pretending we’re not.”

he raised an eyebrow. “have we, though? your mom made us take couple pictures at my birthday dinner. your dad told me to ‘take care of his daughter’ like he was giving me a blessing. i’m pretty sure your cousin asked if we were getting married soon.”

you groaned. “okay, maybe. but then we tell them we broke up, what happens then?”

jungwon paused for a second, his straw still between his lips as he considered it.

“we say it was mutual,” he said casually. “no big deal. we wanted to stay friends. which is true.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “but what if they get weird about it? or start trying to set me up with random people like minjoon from the parent’s community center?”

jungwon made a face. “ugh, not minjoon. he used to eat glue.”

“okay but you get my point, see there’s so many issues with it,”

“it’ll be fine, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” he rolled his eyes, “let me call my mom and say i wanna eat at yours and then tell her to come over as well.”

your mom made too much food as always, jungwon’s mom brought over way too many tupperwares of side dishes, and both families slipped into that comfortable rhythm like they’d all done this a million times before. which, honestly, you had.

jungwon took your usual spot at the dinner table—right next to you, of course—elbow bumping yours every now and then, passing you all the dishes he knew were your favorites without you asking. he even stole a bite of your highly cherished japchae when you weren’t looking.

the dinner was the usual kind of chaos—both your moms chatting over each other about some market sale, your dad and jungwon’s dad arguing about grilling techniques, and the unmistakable buzz of familiarity that only came with years of shared holidays and weekend potlucks. it was normal. it was warm.

jungwon cleared his plate to which you made fun of him telling him to slow down, and that you weren’t gonna fight for food he already touched.

you leaned back in your chair, letting your gaze drift toward him just as he turned to glance at you. it wasn’t a big look—barely a second—but his eyes lingered. and in that split moment, everything stilled.

you gave him a look. something cautious. something questioning. are you sure?

his eyes searched yours like he was answering. only if you are.

and you didn’t say anything. you didn’t have to. your breath hitched the smallest bit, and you gave the tiniest nod.

and that was it. the go-ahead.

he set his chopsticks down with a soft clink, just enough to get the attention of the table without being dramatic.

“actually,” jungwon started casually, glancing once at you as if to double check—like there was still room to back out.

but you didn’t.

you sat a little straighter. steadied your hands in your lap.

“we just wanted to tell you something real quick.” the two of you say in unison just as you had planned 15 minutes earlier outside your front door.

both sets of parents nod on prodding the two of you to continue. and jungwon looks at you to talk. your dad raises an eyebrow, immediately setting down his glass filled with some cheap supermarket wine.

“so um,” you start, the words getting caught in your throat. all the confidence you had mere seconds ago dissipating the moment you actually realized you were going to confess to something that wasn’t even real.

you felt jungwon’s hand gently squeeze your hand twice as if to say ‘you got it’, though you would’ve much preferred if he just took over and talked, but you knew damn well jungwon would find every way to word it wrong.

“me and won are uh. well. dating?” you manage to word out with what sounded like a question at the end. as if to ask your parents for confirmation that you were dating.

like they knew.

you winced for a small moment, scared of their reaction, not that they would react poorly, but still just to brace yourself for whatever words came out.

“oh? i thought you already were, okay,” jungwon’s dad spoke first and continued on with his grill talk with your dad.

jungwon’s mom, however, let out a small gasp—her hand flying to her chest like she’d just received the best plot twist of her life.

“i knew it!” she half-whispered, half-squealed, reaching across the table to swat your mom lightly on the arm. “i told you, didn’t i tell you?”

your mom just nodded smugly, sipping her tea with a knowing glint in her eyes. “you didn’t even need to say it. i’ve been calling him my son-in-law since christmas.”

your jaw dropped. “what?”

jungwon choked on his water. “mom?!”

his mom grinned proudly. “don’t act surprised, you practically live here anyway. every time i call you, you’re with y/n. what was i supposed to think?”

“that we’re close friends?” you eyes widened bewildered at the revelation.

jungwon just gave you a look that clearly read be so serious right now.

“no offense, but y’all passed the ‘just friends’ stage like two summer barbeques ago,” your mom added, barely suppressing a grin.

your dad, who had been suspiciously quiet up until now, leaned back in his chair and sighed dramatically. “guess i have to find a new way to threaten you when prom rolls around.”

“dad!” you cried.

jungwon snorted. “sir, with all due respect, i think you ran out of threats after you made me recite your ten rules of dating… twice.”

everyone laughed, and just like that, the tension vanished. the table settled back into the usual rhythm—chatter about work, complaints about grocery prices, light gossip about neighbors you barely remembered.

your heart, though, hadn’t calmed at all.

you didn’t know if it was from the thrill of the performance or the way jungwon kept glancing at you when no one else was looking—soft, almost unreadable, like he knew something you didn’t.

the two of your families after dinner, cleaned up and played poker until late at night, the house full of laughter, cheer, banter, backstabbing each other through teams. it all felt just right.

after jungwon’s parents walked back to their house across the street leaving you and jungwon to hangout in your kitchen after your parents had gone to sleep..

after a long night of baking brownies and blowing up the kitchen the two of you cleaned up the kitchen and you were just about ready to go sit down and rest. at least until jungwon tugged your sleeve as you were walking back into the living room.

“come on,” he said quietly, his voice just for you. “let’s go.”

you blinked. “go where?”

he didn’t answer—just gave you that annoyingly mysterious smile and nodded toward the front door.

you hesitated only a second before slipping on your shoes and following him out.

outside, the summer air had cooled, but not enough to need a jacket. jungwon’s hoodie hung loose on him, sleeves shoved up to his elbows as he leaned against the car, twirling his keys on one finger.

“spontaneous post-dinner getaway,” he said, opening the passenger door for you. “get in loser, we’re avoiding emotional fallout.”

you rolled your eyes but climbed in anyway. “you’re so stupid.”

for some reason it felt eerily normal having jungwon take you on a drive at 11pm, and you tried to think of who else would you really allow to drive you this late at night.

no one. just jungwon.

it was an awkward moment of realization as you stared

─── ♡

the small “endearing” moments that should in theory mean nothing became more common. as much as you’d like to lie and say ‘haha yeah we’re just super close friends, he does this all the time, he’s so silly’, that vocabulary to label whatever went on between the two of you did not mentally exist by any means.

like when he casually pulled the sleeve of your hoodie down over your hand and held it there, fingers brushing yours a little too long. like when he casually adjusted your necklace, fingers grazing your collarbone. like how at work, when there was no one to perform for, he’d still pull up a chair next to yours, close enough that your elbows brushed.

or even when the two of you were attending keeho’s 18th birthday party, he was stuck by your hip as though he were going to lose you in the crowd of the 6 people in your friend group.

“so,” jungwon said now, setting his chin in his palm as he watched you tap away at your computer, “what are we doing for our final date pretty girl?”

you didn’t even look up. “final date?”

“well, summer break ends in today and we might as well go big or go home, we should go like stargaze or something, ”

you shot him a look. “since when do you stargaze?”

jungwon smirked. “i don’t. but you’d be surprised what i’d do for my girlfriend.”

you ignored the way your stomach flipped at that and focused on your screen.

because this was fake.

it’s all fake, it’s just your best friend. this is normal. it’s not like you were gonna miss these totally non-romantic dates or whatever when it ended. and god the second you took a small glance up to see that stupid dumb smug smirk, you couldn’t help but want to kiss that smirk off his face.

you blinked hard and dragged your eyes back to your laptop, like it could somehow undo the thought. like you didn’t just imagine what it’d be like to kiss him for real—no excuse, no fake label. just you and jungwon and the quiet press of lips that meant everything.

god.

what were you even saying.

you couldn’t be in love with your best friend.

“yeah sure whatever stargazing is fine or whatever,” you tried to non-chalantly choke out to no avail with his super dumb, extra idiotic with a side of even more dumb smirk, curving up even more than it had already.

that night when he picked you up to take you stargazing, you hated how stupidly good he looked in that hoodie—the one you always stole, the one that still smelled like his cologne and laundry detergent even after a wash. he leaned against his car with two slushies in hand and a smile that made your stomach flip like it had nothing better to do.

by the time you reached the hill just outside of town, the sky had already started to darken. stars dotted the sky, and the night was cool but not cold. jungwon grabbed a blanket from the backseat like he’d planned this—which, of course, he had. because he always thought ahead when it came to you.

“come on,” he said, flopping down onto the grass and patting the spot next to him.

you sat beside him, and the two of you looked up in silence for a while. the stars were quiet and constant. but your thoughts were anything but.

and then, he broke it.

“i’m gonna miss this,” jungwon said, not looking at you.

your breath caught. “what, the fake dates?”

he chuckled softly. “no. just… you. like this. with me.”

“yeah, me too.”

your voice was quieter than you meant it to be, barely more than a breath. and maybe that was all it took—just that one admission—because when you glanced over at him, he was already looking.

his eyes held that same softness they always did with you. that same calm, steady warmth. only this time, it felt different. heavier. fuller.

you didn’t know who leaned in first.

maybe it was him. maybe it was you. maybe it was both of you moving at the same time, pulled by some invisible thread that had been tightening for weeks now.

but suddenly, he was close.

so close you could notice the way his lashes curled slightly at the ends, the way his breath warmed your skin. your noses nearly touched. your lips—god, your lips were maybe a centimeter apart. your hands were resting between you on the blanket, barely brushing.

and the moment stretched, unbearably quiet, unbearably full. a fragile, perfect pause.

you weren’t sure what you were waiting for. a sign? a reason? an excuse?

but nothing came.

instead, jungwon swallowed slowly, gaze flickering down to your lips—then back to your eyes. and then he leaned back just slightly, like it had all been some kind of mistake he didn’t want to admit to.

you both laughed a little, and it was the worst sound—because it didn’t feel funny. it felt like stalling.

you glanced down at your hands, fingers curled into the fabric of your hoodie, gripping like you were holding onto something that was already slipping.

“well,” you breathed out, your voice steady in a way that surprised you. “thank you for being my fake boyfriend.”

jungwon blinked. “thank you for being mine.”

you nodded, forcing a small smile. “we did good.”

“yeah,” he said softly. “we did.”

and then there was silence. stars blinking overhead. grass brushing against your legs. the quiet between you more deafening than anything he could’ve said.

you cleared your throat, gaze fixed somewhere in the sky. “this is for the best, anyway. it’s better this way.”

jungwon didn’t respond.

“like,” you continued, trying not to sound too breathless, too desperate to fill the space, “summer’s ending. we can finally just be normal again. go back to how it was before.”

you swallowed hard, forcing the words out like they didn’t sting. “thank god, honestly.”

and it was a good performance. you said it with a smile. a soft laugh. like the past few weeks hadn’t meant anything more than two friends goofing around, pretending for fun.

but god, you wanted to take it all back. you wanted to say please don’t stop pretending. please don’t let this be the end.

you wanted to tell him you weren’t relieved. not even a little.

but you didn’t.

because this was your best friend. and this was what you’d agreed to. and maybe if you kept lying to yourself just a little longer, it wouldn’t hurt so much.

so you stood up, brushed off your jeans, and turned to him with a grin that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“come on, loser” you said. “we’ve got school in the morning.”

and jungwon… jungwon just nodded.

the car ride back was silent, as you looked out the window lost in thought of the tense moment. maybe you were just going crazy after all.

─── ♡

it felt like summer fell behind you in the blink of an eye. one night you were busy pulling an all-nighter with jungwon, the next you were back at school doing stupid class introductions as if everyone didn’t already know each other, considering the senior class this year was so much smaller than other years.

you thought every thing would just go back to how it was when you and jungwon were purely “best friends”, though the world had different plans.

you thought everything would go back to normal. that once school started, once senior year rolled around, you and jungwon would fall back into the routine of just being best friends. no more weird stargazing moments. no more forehead kisses because “you looked really kissable right then.” no more fake confessions whispered under fireworks or his hand steadying yours under the dinner table.

and senior year didn’t exactly give you space to process the maybe-definitely growing feelings anyway. college applications were looming like dark clouds. essays. deadlines. the gnawing anxiety of futures you couldn’t picture clearly yet.

“okay but like… when are we gonna talk about the fact you two were literally in love?” keeho asked casually, popping a grape into his mouth as he flopped down on the grass next to you during lunch.

“we’re not in love and never were,” you said quickly. too quickly.

“uh huh,” yunjin chimed in, arching a brow. “so the couples matching lockscreen is just a coincidence?”

“or how he tied your shoe this morning,” sunoo added helpfully, sipping from his yogurt drink. “like we didn’t all watch him kneel like he was about to propose.”

“it’s wasn’t a proposal,” you muttered.

“but you are dating still though,” yunjin insisted, as if this was obvious. “right? there’s no way you break up just like that,” she declared with a snap of her fingers.

“sure we did,” you persist.

technically not a lie. technically still acting. technically going to emotionally ruin you at some point, but hey. not today.

he just raised an eyebrow. “sure, but then why did he look like he got dumped by taylor swift in the hallway this morning?”

you didn’t have an answer for that.

and then there was jungwon himself—who wasn’t exactly acting like a best friend or an ex-boyfriend or anything you could neatly label.

he still saved you a seat in homeroom.

still brought you a can of whatever energy drink from the vending machine if he beat you to school.

still sent you stupid pictures of his dog in sweaters.

but now, there were these weird silences between you two—little pauses where you’d catch him looking at you like he didn’t know if he should smile or not.

you didn’t talk about the summer.

you didn’t talk about the stargazing.

you didn’t talk about watching the sunrise from the back of his car, your head laying on top of his chest feeling his heartbeat, every thump lining up with yours as though they were purely beating together.

you didn’t talk about how you’d almost kissed him, how close your face had been to his under that sky, how your heart had been pounding so loud you were sure he heard it.

you especially didn’t talk about the night in his car, when the music faded low and the world felt quiet, like it was holding its breath just waiting for you to say something.

and now you were here—back to school, back to “normal.”

except it didn’t feel normal.

not when your hand still remembered the way his felt in yours.

not when the thought of him dating someone else made your stomach twist.

not when you couldn’t look at his hoodie without thinking of the way it smelled.

god.

you missed him.

even though he wasn’t really gone.

even though he was right there.

even though he was just your best friend.

just your best friend. nothing more, maybe even less now too.

─── ♡

there you were, tying your apron behind your back, fingers fumbling more than usual. the diner you and jungwon worked at was quiet—the kind of quiet that only existed right before the dinner rush. fluorescent lights buzzing faintly above. the distant clatter of cutlery and the hum of the milkshake machine running its cycle.

you were halfway through restocking the napkin holders when you heard his footsteps walk in

they were unmistakable. slightly too light for someone his height, always a bit rushed like he was trying not to be late, even when he always was.

jungwon.

you didn’t turn around at first. not because you didn’t want to. but because you couldn’t.

because the last time you two stood in this diner together, you’d both agreed it was time to end it.

“the summer’s over,” you’d said with a shrug, even if it felt like peeling off skin.

“yeah,” he had replied. “we said just for the summer.”

and that was that. no more fake dates. no more shared drinks. no more lingering looks when you thought the other wasn’t paying attention.

no more pretending.

but it never really felt like pretending.

and now—now he was behind you again. the bell over the door still echoing faintly. his presence filled the space before his voice even did.

“hey,” he said softly.

you finally turned around, catching sight of him in that same black apron, hair slightly messed from the wind, cheeks flushed like he’d run part of the way.

you hated how your heart still picked up at just the sight of him.

“you’re late,” you muttered, hoping the tease would mask the way your voice shook.

“i know.” he paused. “i was… thinking.”

you blinked, trying not to read into that. “you do that?”

he let out a weak laugh but didn’t say anything right away. instead, he stepped forward, closing the space between you like he always did—like he never even noticed how close he got until your shoulders nearly touched.

“i don’t think i was pretending,” he said finally, so quietly you almost thought you imagined it.

your fingers froze on the napkin holder. “what?”

“this summer. the fake dating.” he looked at you, really looked at you, and your stomach dropped. “it wasn’t fake for me.”

your breath caught, everything else in the diner blurring around the edges.

“jungwon…”

he shook his head. “i know we said it’d be easier to go back to normal. i know that was the plan. but i can’t keep facing you and acting like i didn’t mean any of it.”

you stared at him, every feeling you’d buried over the past few weeks clawing its way up to your throat.

“you didn’t say anything,” you whispered. “you just agreed.”

“because i thought that’s what you wanted, and what better way to basically be dating the only girl who’s been right for you. play stupid games win stupid prizes.” he tried to choke out a laugh, voice rough now. “i thought i was the only one who—”

“you weren’t.”

he looked up sharply.

you swallowed hard. “you weren’t the only one who didn’t want it to end.”

for a second, neither of you moved. the air between you crackled with something unspoken and electric and real. no roles to play this time. no script. just two people standing in the middle of a diner, hearts pounding like it was the first time all over again.

jungwon’s eyes softened. just a little.

his shoulders, tense from whatever courage it took to say all that, eased the slightest bit.

“okay,” he said, voice quiet. steady.

you nodded. “okay.”

neither of you smiled. neither of you had to. it was just… understood.

he stepped behind the counter, grabbing an apron like it was any other shift. like you were just co-workers again. like nothing had changed. except everything had.

and when your hands brushed while reaching for the same menu, you both didn’t pull away.

you just kept going. together.

─── ♡

to be honest the next coming weeks were weird. now officially dating and having to tell people, “we broke up and got back together”. you weren't sure if you counted the summer months as part of your relationship or not, but ultimately decided they were.

the two of you were back out driving late into the night going somewhere, but also going everywhere. small raindrop falling into the windscreen, while you watched the streets pass by in a blur, admiring the outside world, as if you’d never seen the familiar streets you’d grown up in all your life.

“you okay honey?” his question catches you off guard after 20 minutes of silence.

you hum with contentedness feeling cool air of the outside world brush past your skin with the windows down.

normal was out the window. this new kind of normal was messier, softer, realer. like the way he now reached for your hand without needing a reason.

you caught yourself watching him when he wasn’t looking—still in awe that it was allowed now. and sometimes he’d glance over like he knew, and he’d smile that small, familiar smile that made your chest warm.

you still bickered over dumb things. you still teased each other constantly. but there were also forehead bumps and quiet “get home safe” texts and shared playlists and late night phone calls where no one said anything for a long time.

when jungwon pulled into your driveway, neither of you moved right away. the rain still tapped against the windshield, soft and steady, like background music.

you turned to him, and he looked at you like he always did—like you were something constant in his world.

“wanna come in?” you asked, voice quiet.

he shrugged, lips tugging into a smile. “only if you make me tea.”

“you don’t even like tea.”

“i like it when you make it.”

you rolled your eyes, but your heart tugged anyway, that familiar, fluttery way it always had when it came to him.

so you nodded, reached over to unbuckle your seatbelt, and the two of you stepped out of the car and into the rain together.

this was the new beginning.

not loud. not dramatic.

just you and him, walking toward the front door

side by side.

finally, for real.

134 notes · View notes

shuenkio · 1 day ago

Text

愛 I want your Salty ! - 이희승

Paring: Heeseung X M!reader

Synopsis ; It was a teasing joke but who knows your boyfriend would actually let you taste his "Salty" Water?

Genre: Smut Cw: Smau. Non proof read

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A/n: ik there'd be some part that different from the starter, since my brain is not braining— anyway.

In a day of normal life of Mn who always wanted someone who can understand him and can handle him at his worst not only his emotion but his behavior too since he know himself that, he can't control his running lip and thought sometime despite being a random rambler person, and it was just a dream and hoping to find a perfect boyfriend right? right but not until someone like his tinder profile, and text him that they want to meet him, a normal single date between two guys wouldn't hurt a try, so Mn give it a short, lower his expectation and standard so he can take anything they could offer.

Lord have mercy, it not what Mn have expected, the person who asked him out on a date named, Heeseung is just far more than he could imagine after exchange each other life story. Mn was about to explode after learning that Heeseung was just as much as him, just a different body at least, he was casual, blunt, quite, bold and understandable kind of person which make it so perfect if he would be Mn's boyfriend.

Which soon turn to be true, it not Mn who asked the taller if he had a partner, it the other way around. the red hair didnt play once he also find his perfect love on a random day and he would let it slip into thin air? not a chance, after the date end that day, he immediately asked Mn out and asked him to be his, not for a time being but forever, and when Mn ensure about a second thoughts, Heeseung didn't care one bit if there any negative about Mn, He calmy response he know when he see one and that's not his Mn. And the answer cannot be No, if Hee want it he would do anything....

Present time

The day fall into dark, replace by the thousands stars filled the empty sky, the moon were amazing today, it light shine bright through every corner of the busy night city. Mn and Heeseung just got back from running errands today and making both of their ways back to their shared apartment home. Due to the hot weather from the day, when Mn spotted a ice cream truck he was thinking to grab some to cool down their body, and Heeseung just go along with it, anything for his Boyfriend.

And they continue on their way back home, as both of them have ice cream in their palm, licking, sucking, savoring the taste with it cold and yummy flavor. As Mn was eating, he is licking a scoop of ice cream which make his brain freeze for a moment. Heeseung chuckled to the sight, find t amusing and adorable when Mn acting like a toddler. Mn knot his brows together, his expression turn to a fake sulking that draw more laugh from the latter. The good time last for a while, before an idea pop up when Mn thought of something that could make his Boyfriend stun or even freaking shock.

"Stop snorting, This ice cream was too sweet that i could get diabetes ugh why don't you help me" Mn let out a sassy sigh and look away, hoping he would respond to his favor.

"By what, i don't have anything on me except a bottle of water, do want it?" Hee claimed, as he was about to pull out a water bottled from his backpack but was stopped why Mn comments.

"Oh so you thought i want that bland water? joke on you i want a salty one- from You" Smirk appear on Mn face, express the teasing in his tone with a hint of actually want it, knowing that Heeseung won't do such thing, and Mn know his taller bf know what he mean. Result Heeseung to turn his head slowly toward his lover, raise one of his eyebrows,That's even Mn cant even read his face.

Yet he not actually looking and pay much attention to Mn right now, Hee looking for a nearby restroom.

"What are you looking for? Don't take it seriously i was joking let's go back home, it getting late" Mn disappointed and awkward ate him up as nothing slip from Heeseung lip, it was pure silent. Mn was ready to go back home at instant only to get his back collar hooked by Heeseung's finger and dragging Mn to the restroom nearby.

"Don't be, i never said i would not give what you want, you said what you said right?"

"Heeseung....!"

////

Inside the empty restroom, with barely nobody came across at this hour, Heeseung and Mn were in the same stall, just the two of them.

With Heeseung sitting on the toilet, Mn were sitting down on the floor. A lopsided grin painted in the taller face as his fingers dug into the waistband of his pants, all at once before pool down everything on his ankle, with a quite a shift of the fabric, his cock was exposed- vulnerable in a way that giving Mn access to his liking, the cool air brushing over the heated skin making him twitching and throbbing.

"Go on suck it like how you wanted, i don't mind since you like it"

Mn blinked, jaw ticking slightly, like his brain had short circuited but refused to believe what his lover just did.

"Uhhh can i even?-"

"If you don't I'm going to make you yourself darling, do it as you please, suck my cock until it dripping, leaking, and load you milk by the time it fucking drown your throat, like you want it Mn, my salty cum- do i need to say more?"

Heeseung even making sure he was making the right statement for his clueless boyfriend so he could feel at ease, as he lean backward, spread his legs more for his Mn to giving him more entry. He always been the understanding one, quietly patient, nothing really shock him anymore, he would give all the things Mn desire.

Mn eyes spark with satisfations the kind that came when something he longing for finally here. As he slowly insert his boyfriend's jotting massive cock inside his warm mouth then began to bobbing his head in a steady rhyme, taking his time to make this moment longer. While Heeseung just sit still, doing nonthing.

"Just like that Mn, wrapped that hungry lip like you want to eat this cock- fuck hell yeah" The empty room are now filled with soft groan and moaning from the stall, not even care if there anyone would hear them, this is all pleasure that cannot be stop.

Heeseung’s breath caught, shoulders pressing back as his fingers curled tight in hair. He wasn’t being loud, he couldn’t be, but the sounds still slipped from him, unfiltered and low. Quiet groans rolled out of his chest, scattered and rough around the edges like he didn’t know how to hold them in anymore.

"Ah… fuck…" His voice was barely above a whisper, but every word felt heavy, soaked in heat.

The mouth on him moved with intention. Not rushed. Not teasing. Just steady, like something worth savoring. Tongue soft and warm as it swept along the underside, slow and sure, before easing back again. Heeseung shuddered, jaw clenching as his thighs twitched.

He looked down and swore again, eyes glazed, lips parted, chest rising in shallow waves.

"You’re gonna make me… shit, Don't you stop"

Heeseung’s hand dropped to the stall wall, palm flat, searching for something solid. The way he was being taken in wasn’t rough, but it was overwhelming in its care. Like every second had been memorized.

He let out a moan, voice caught in the back of his throat.

"God, your mouth…"

His body trembled as that warmth coiled tight in his stomach. The way he was being taken in, steadily, deeper with each pass, had him spiraling. Heeseung could barely breathe. His other hand tangled deeper in Mn hair, not guiding, just holding on.

"You’re gonna kill me," he whispered, a choked sound following right after.

"Don’t stop. Please. Just… don’t."

His hips jerked once, breath staggering, and the mouth around him adjusted with the same smooth pressure, never missing a beat. A soft hum followed, intentional or not, it didn’t matter. It was the last thing he needed.

“Fuck, I’m gonna…cum, cum cumming ”

With a low, shaky moan, Heeseung tensed. His breath stilled. Then he came, with a massive load, it was quiet but intense, his toes curling as a sound escaped him, raw, soft, almost reverent.

"Swallow it, don't leave any drop darling, just like you need to refresh your sweet tongue"

His head tipped back, neck bared to the too-bright lights above, chest rising in uneven waves as he tried to remember how to breathe. Fingers still tangled, body still pulsing from the aftershock.

"Was it salty like you want now?"

Mn nodded satisfied.

Who wouldn't when you get to suck Dick, especially from someone you loved.

106 notes · View notes

everlastingauthor · 2 days ago

Text

When You Cook With Them

﹢﹒ ✦⊹﹒ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Please do not re-upload my work or feed it to AI, if you wish to translate my work and upload please get my permission first and credit me that's all I ask for, please remember to stay hydrated, take your vitamins and medicine, and remember you are loved. I'm basing this based on headcanons from the fandom, like Mihawk being Romania or Crocodile being Italian.

﹢﹒ ✦⊹﹒𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You are cooking or baking with them! 🍳🍥🍝🍴

﹢﹒ ✦⊹﹒ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧: Yes

﹢﹒ ✦⊹﹒ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Romance, established relationship, Cooking, Baking, Fun In The Kitchen, Different dishes, & Cute Moments

﹢﹒ ✦⊹﹒ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Dracule Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Buggy, Shanks, & Smoker

﹢﹒ ✦⊹﹒𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: Click Here | ﹢﹒ ✦⊹﹒ 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬: Click Here

Usually, Mihawk cooked dinner by himself while Zoro trained, Perona made adorable dolls, and you did whatever you could to keep yourself busy. But this time, you wanted to cook with Mihawk to assist your stoic swordsman in the kitchen; Mihawk agreed to let you help him in the kitchen as long as you followed his directions and the recipe. " Those who can't follow simple instructions, especially the recipe, don't deserve to have a tasteful meal. " He would say. Mihawk washed his hands with you and helped secure your apron he told you that you both would be making. Sarmale (Cabbage Rolls), Mititei, & Balmos. Mihawk grabbed a book from the kitchen shelf where he kept all his recipe books. He had all kinds of books from The Secret Of Spices, The All Blue Cooking, Southern Style, & Ancient Desserts. Mihawk and you began cooking. He would watch you from time to time and assist you if he saw that you were about to mess something up.

He wouldn't yell or berate you but he would have a firm and gentle tone. " Be careful, dear, or else the cabbage will be too spicy, and we wouldn't want you coughing up a storm. I'm sure Zoro will appreciate the spice of the meal, but my only concern is making sure you enjoy what we cook together. " Mihawk would stand behind you and help you chop a few things gently guiding your hand with the knife. Before returning to his own task. Seeing Mihawk cook was like watching a talented artist or someone focused on studying. Mihawk was no stranger to the kitchen, and he was showing you just that, but you could see he was also enjoying himself that cooking was kinda like a hobby to him, a break away from the blade.

When you and Mihawk finished, you watched as he placed the food on the plate making sure that the dish looked presentable. Seeing how Mihawk planted the food made you think that if he had never become a warlord, he could have opened up his own restaurant. Mihawk had you go get Zoro and Perona to tell them that dinner was ready. So you left off to go call the swordsman and the ghost princess. All four of you were seated at the table eating; Mihawk sipped on his wine, watching as Zoro filled his mouth, probably hungry from training. Perona, like always, tried eating with grace. After dinner, you and Mihawk did the dishes together, he washed, and you dried. " I had fun cooking with you today, let's do this some more. " Mihawk said, without looking at you. You smiled and nodded your head as you and he continued to do the dishes in silence.

" Burrata Pizza Sandwiches? " You looked at Crocodile. The both of you were standing in the kitchen as you yawned, rubbing your eyes. " Yeah, you'll love and it will fill us both up. " Crocodile walked around grabbing what you guys needed to make burrata pizza sandwiches with. It was nighttime, and you woke up hungry; you noticed Crocodile wasn't in bed, so you went searching for him. He was in his office reading important documents when he saw you and asked what you were doing up. You told him you were hungry, which made his stomach growl; he had missed dinner, so here you two were now, and he was going to teach you how to make these delicious sandwiches. " I used to get these when I went on walks, I also know a family recipe. " Crocodile had you chop a few things while he did his own task. Crocodile wasn't much of a cook. And neither were you.

Crocodile usually had the cooks prepare breakfast, lunch, and dinner for him. But the cooks always left after dinner time and Crocodile shooed away the cook that tried to bring him dinner earlier. You, on the other hand, ate dinner, but sometimes, once in a while, you crave a midnight snack. Crocodile talked about Italian cuisine with you, telling you that it was something that should be cooked with love and respect and that you should take time to appreciate Italian cuisine. You listened to his words and continued to help him.

" Hey! Don't add too much black pepper! " Crocodile yelled, rushing over. You were already sneezing. Crocodile rolled his eyes and pulled you away from the food while he finished up the last of the work. Once the sandwiches were done you and Crocodile sat on the couch eating them as his pug named Gator sat in between the two of you. " How is it? " Crocodile asked. " Delicious! " You told him while taking more bites. Crocodile smirked as he wrapped his arm around you and rubbed your arm. " That's what I like to hear, maybe we should do this more often if we both happen to be awake during the middle of the night. " Crocodile took a bite of his sandwich. And this indeed did happen more often.

When you told Buggy you were hungry and craving a burger you sealed your fate. " One Buggy Belly Busting Burger coming up! " Buggy told you as he grabbed your hand and led you into the kitchen. " But I'll need a special helper. " Buggy fitted an apron on you. He ran around gathering ingredients like beef, tomatoes, onions, lettuce, tomatoes, different types of cheese, pickles, potatoes, and hot peppers. All these things for the burgers made you aware of why Buggy called them belly-busting; Buggy hummed a tune as you both chopped up tomatoes, onions, and lettuce. Buggy started cooking the meat while you went on to cut the potatoes for fries. " Make sure not to make them too small or too big. " Buggy said. As he went to see if the buns were soft and not hard, Buggy grabbed the fluffy buns and gave a light press. " These buns are soft, kinda like yours~ " Buggy winked at you.

You blushed and quickly turned around as Buggy roared with laughter. And kissed your cheek, his hands resting on your shoulders. " I like seeing you all flustered sweet cheeks~ " Buggy kissed you on the cheek twice. Buggy pulled away as he got the oil ready for the fries, he wanted you to put the fries in because he was scared of the oil popping him. Despite being a pirate captain, sometimes your boyfriend was a scaredy cat.

When the fries were done and seasoned, Buggy began assembling the burgers and putting the fries on the plate. Once he finished, you two sat down to eat. You knew the burger was going to be big, but you didn't expect them to be this big; also, when the hell did he add bacon to the burger!? You ended up using a knife and fork to cut it in half while Buggy wolfed down his burger. After the two of you finished, Buggy lay in your lap while rubbing his stomach. " If I fall into a food coma, kiss me awake. " Buggy closed his eyes. You rolled your eyes and eventually fell asleep, too, due to the large meal.

You had a sweet tooth and wanted to try something sweet, so you asked Shanks if he wanted to bake something with; he gave a wide grin as he was watching the sunset and turned around, to look at his beautiful partner. " Baking? Someone's got a sweet tooth, sure let's go bake something delicious. " Shanks stood up, walking with you to the kitchen. He decided that you two would be making Irish Cream Poke Cake. Shanks talked to you about the ingredients and how he used to eat for breakfast when he needed something sweet and energetic for breakfast. You and Shanks cleaned yourself up and got to cooking, both of you even deciding to make enough for the crew to enjoy. You weren't much of a baker, but Shanks seemed to know his way around the kitchen.

He let you help him make two cups of heavy cream and put three cups of instant espresso powder into a bowl. " These will cure your sweet tooth, maybe even keep you up. " Shanks grinned pulling you close as he kissed you. Before pulling away, it was beautiful to watch Shanks bake to see how he looked peaceful and focused, wanting the sweet treats to be perfect.

Everything was close to being prepared, Shanks had you pour the pudding mixture on top of the cake. " Make sure each hole gets filled~ " Shanks rested his chin on your shoulder giving a lewd grin. You rolled your eyes and finished. After a bit, the delicious treats were finished, and you and Shanks brought the large tray out to share with the crew, who also enjoyed it as well thanking both you and Shanks. " Sweet and delicious, just like you~ " Shanks winked at you, holding you close as you continued to eat the Irish poke cake while cuddling your boyfriend.

You and Smoker were on vacation; it had been a while since the two of you had taken a vacation. But the only thing is that you both didn't know what to do. You tried reading while Smoker worked out. He even asked you to sit on his weight while you read; later on, the two of you did some cleaning around your shared home and took a nap together, afterward, you both went on a walk to do some shopping. " Do you want Angel Food Cake, when we get back to the house? " Smoker asked while getting some fresh strawberries. " We could make it together. " Smoker said while paying for it. Smoker purchased a couple of other ingredients, but it wasn't much since you both had a Marines discount when it came to buying food, clothes, or even daily essentials. You and Smoker made your way back to the house to get started on baking.

The smoker made the white sugar while you prepared the egg whites; thankfully, he wasn't smoking in the kitchen; for once, he set aside his cigarettes and focused on preparing angel food cake with you; this was better than sitting around bored. " Don't drink that you idiot! " Smoker yelled seeing you trying to sip on the vanilla extract. Smoker ended up keeping the vanilla and almond extract with him, he had you sift together the flour, sugar, and salt five times.

Smoker already had the oven set at 325 degrees and you both let the yummy dessert bake until it was golden brown and let it cool. Smoker carefully garnished it with strawberries, you haven't seen him this focused unless he was hunting down a criminal pirate. After it was finished you and Smoker sat down eating the delicious treat. " Let's make Texas sheet cake next time. " Smoker said, before taking another bite. You smiled and agreed, it was fun cooking with your partner.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ One Piece Taglist: @asura0nepiece @anonymousewrites

Comment to be added to the taglist for every character or even certain characters! 🌹🕊

104 notes · View notes

womanofwords · 2 days ago

Text

Silver Swan (Part 11)

Neglected!fem!reader x yandere!batfam

You cooled it as Silver Swan while you were being watched. You weren't an idiot; you knew they were following you in the hopes of finding Silver Swan. You just had to stick to a routine while they had their eyes on you and then they'd lose interest.

"So this is the fabric store she goes to for so long," Dick said, disguised as a nerdy-looking guy in a sweater vest and large glasses. "She just walks straight in, and . . . stands at the counter?"

"She must work there, idiot," Jason scoffed.

"She looks happy there," Steph said. "She's . . . smiling."

"She never smiles at home," Duke said. "And Y/N never mentioned a job."

"Y/N never mentions anything," Tim scoffed. "Then again, we never talk to her. She's always up in her room, sewing little bears or whatever."

"Bears . . . just like the bears that Silver Swan was seen giving to people that was filled full of money she stole from the fundraiser!" Damian gasped. Cassandra hit him.

Give it a rest, she signed. You're obsessed and we're sick of it.

"Focus, guys." Barbara's voice came over their disguised comms links. "We have to see if Y/N comes into contact with anyone who could be Silver Swan. Make sure to watch for people in high heels, because any one of them could be Silver Swan in a civilian identity."

"She's probably waiting for someone vulnerable to seduce." Stephanie's stomach contents rose up her throat like mercury in a thermometer. "Y/N would be perfect for that. She'd give the clothes off her back. She said it herself."

"We just need to know a little more about her so she stops clinging to this idea of Silver Swan being so . . . perfect!" Duke said, vibrating with rage. "We're better than that lowlife! She just flies around looking kinda cool and had two high-profile stunts! What could she possibly know?"

"My identity," Damian said.

You could have heard a pin drop. "Silver Swan . . . knows who you are?" Jason hissed.

"She was so infuriating to go up against, and . . . I said too much," Damian admitted. "What if she finds Y/N because of me? I've doomed my only blood sibling!"

"What the hell did you say? When was this? Why would you engage Silver Swan on your own?" Dick yelled.

"I wanted to stop them!"

"And now Y/N's in danger! She doesn't even know what sort of danger she'd be in from Silver Swan because she's in some sort of dazed crush on her! We need to be her role models so that she can't be lured away from us like the little children after the Pied Piper of Hamelin!"

Your siblings spent the rest of the day watching you, growing more and more jealous with every second. You never smiled like that at them.

You never hugged them.

You never took the time to point out their hair being askew or buttons undone.

Damian began frothing at the mouth when he saw you scoop up a small child off the floor and guide him back to his mother. Why couldn't you be this gentle with him? Why did you not show such affection to him?

"You are such a sweet little boy," you said to the toddler. Damian wanted to throw that toddler into traffic.

You wandered into a cafe and ordered quickly, standing around waiting for your order once you had paid. Was that your regular order? Do you normally go here? Did you meet friends here?

"There'll be so much stuff for us to look at when we're at home," Tim said. "School records, tapes, maybe even a diary."

"I know," Stephanie said. "Just . . . let me keep watching."

"Sure," Jason said, as he watched you eat alone. "Just to make sure they're safe."

"Of course," Duke said.

*_*_*_*_*_

"Are you sure you want me to eat lunch with you?" you ask, as your siblings offer you a slice of cheese pizza. "I can make myself something."

"You shouldn't be alone, Y/N." Damian's voice was cold and clinical. "Humans are social creatures. Social interaction is vital."

"Are you feeling OK, Damian? You're . . . not being yourself," you said.

"I feel fine." Damian brushed off your concerns while being elated that you had worried about him. "Now, please eat with us."

You sat down and ate, perched on the edge of your seat. You could feel eyes on you, observant eyes that took in every detail of you.

If you were really going to have them on your back, they might as well be useful.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11 <- You are here

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Taglist: @tinybrie, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @simpingfor-wakasa, @kittzu, @simpingpandas, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @galaxypurplerose, @wisefuncherryblossom, @vanessa-boo, @deathbynarcisstick, @sirenetheblogger, @asillysimp, @toxicvoidsstuff, @kneelforloki, @trashlanternfish360, @tsxukikami.

#creative writing #my writing #writing inspiration #writers #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #yandere #platonic yandere #yandere batfam #batfam #silver swan

136 notes · View notes

mysterioussquigley · 2 days ago

Text

𓌜˚.⋆ Shauna Shipman 𓌜˚.⋆ Nsfw Alphabet

⚠️Miners dni, Sensitive content, Nsfw⚠️

Pairings: Dark Top!Shauna Shipman X Afab!Reader

Content Warnings: knife play, choking, bdsm, sadism, masochism, abuse (when Shauna gets pissy she cuts you, deep), fingering, thigh humping, oral sex, degradation, masturbation, body worship (just a lil bit), semi-public sex, reference to canabalism, slut-shaming.

2.46k words

(This is my first time writing something like this, so I hope y'all enjoy! Honestly might’ve gone abit hard on the warnings but eh better safe then sorry. Feedback is welcome and if you have any requests/questions my inbox is open!!)

(#wantthat oh my god she's so hot🙏🙏)

꒷꒦✧˖°🫀⋆｡𖦹꒷꒦

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

𓌜˚.⋆ Really depends on her mood. Some days she'll leave you a pathetic, sweaty mess on the floor, swiftly redressing herself and walking away. Other times she'll lean back and watch as you regain your composure, a small smirk on her face as she admires her work. The way you shake as you come down from your high, your sweaty and red face, how you curl into yourself. But most often, she'll wrap you up in her flannel, trapping you in her arms and holding you close. Her mouth travelling from your head to your neck and chest, sucking, nibbling and biting her way down. Dont even think about trying to leave, or she’ll dig her canines deep into your shoulder, not caring how much it hurts. She would never admit it, but it soothes a part of herself knowing your safe in her arms, away from the others (and the cold). On those days, you'll have to have a scarf or something else prepared if you want to hide the Hickeys and bite marks littering your neck.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

𓌜˚.⋆ Hers are her hands. She loves spending time admiring every small nick or scar, the dirt and blood smudges, how jagged her previously perfect nails have become. She loves the way she can make you shake in anticipation or fear, by simply grabbing your neck. How she barely has to move them deep inside your cunt before you start coming apart in front of her.

𓌜˚.⋆ Her favourite part of you are your thighs and eyes. She's obsessed with watching your eyes as you fuck, how quickly they flash between fear, lust and love. She loves dragging your chin down so she can watch your reaction to her trusting the hilt of her knife deep inside you. And of course your thighs. Oh how she loves littering them with bites and hickeys, small nicks and cuts from the tip of her blade. The way they shake after you cum, and how soft they feel under her palms as she digs her nails in deep.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

𓌜˚.⋆ She cannot get enough of tasting you. Every time you have sex she finds some way to get a taste of you. Licking her fingers, eating you out, or nibbling on whichever object she's used to please you (almost always the hilt of her knife). Watching as you ride her thigh, waiting for the moment you're done to lean down and lick it off of her leg. Or even better, forcing you to do it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

𓌜˚.⋆ Degradation. She would never admit it, not even to you, but she loves it when you talk condescendingly to her. Shaming her for how quick she is when trying to get in your pants. Calling her names as her head is in-between your thighs. But don't even think about calling her Shipman. The last time you tried to, you were left unsatisfied on the floor of the forest with a fresh and decently deep cut on your thigh.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

𓌜˚.⋆ Not very experienced. She'd only done it a few times with Jeff and she didn't even try to be dominant then. And the only thing she ever did with Jackie was slumber party make-out sessions. Her relationship with you has been a learning curve for the both of you, but she's a fast learner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

𓌜˚.⋆ Anything where she can see your face.

𓌜˚.⋆ The way your eyes roll back into your head, the sweat glistening down your face, how your mouth is twisted and open letting out the cutest little moans. And of course your tits bouncing softly as she thrusts her fingers inside you. It gives her a rush that's more potent than anything she's ever felt before, even more than running her blade across your skin or wrapping her hands around your throat.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

𓌜˚.⋆ Almost entirely dead serious.

𓌜˚.⋆ When you two get down and dirty, you won't be getting anything sweet or goofy. You'll get a power hungry and lust filled smile, or a low throaty laugh. She's all about controlling you and she feels that if she breaks character and let's out anything that's not serious, she's lost all her control in the situation.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

𓌜˚.⋆ Well, having been living in bum-fuck nowhere for well over a year, all the girls shaving/waxing supplies either had run out early on or had been burnt in the cabin, there's not really anyway to shave. At the beginning, she tried to tame the bush (maybe in hope of a certain dirty blonde taking notice of her) but after Jackie's death she really couldn't give a shit anymore.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

𓌜˚.⋆ Surprisingly quite romantic.

𓌜˚.⋆ On the monthly anniversary of you two getting together, she'll pick some flowers and hang them throughout the hut, spreading their petals on the floor. She even purposely picks ones she knows you like, water lilies from down by the lake or sweet smelling wildflowers. On those nights, she'll take it slow. Little to no roughness, no knives or choking, just slow and intimate sex. Maybe she'll even bless you with a soft smile afterwards, in the glow of lantern light and the soft moonlight spilling through the doorway.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

𓌜˚.⋆ Only does it when she has no access to you. Either you or her are out hunting, down at the lake or occupied with one of the other girls, those are the only times she'll masturbate. Always thinking of you (at least that's what she says) and usually it's quick. It's not something she really enjoys doing, just sees it as a solution to whats distracting her from her job.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

𓌜˚.⋆ Knife play, choking and a little dabble of bdsm, specifically sadism and masochism.

𓌜˚.⋆ Shauna's knife is practically a part of her, so it's no surprise she brings it with her during sex. She doesn't use it to cut off your clothes, albeit very begrudgingly, but you can almost definitely expect her to use the hilt on you. Thrusting it inside you while rubbing rough circles around your clit, grinning as you cry from overstimulation. Whenever she feels like it, she'll leave little nicks and cuts across your skin.

𓌜˚.⋆ Oh, you can expect her to choke you, slipping her fingers together around your neck, leaving you just barely able to get enough breathe. Tying you up is also one of her favourites, using vines or rope to pin your arms above your head, legs spread wide open, inviting her to use and abuse your pussy.

𓌜˚.⋆ And she especially loves you inflicting pain on her. However she's careful to make sure she's still in control. The way your fingernails dig into her back or arms, leaving small drops of blood smudging her skin. Or when your so overwhelmed you bury your head into her neck and bite down hard, she especially adores that, treasuring those bites as proof she can

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

𓌜˚.⋆ Literally anywhere. My girl is a Freak with a capitol F.

𓌜˚.⋆ She's very willing to do the deed anywhere. Pushing you into the dirty forest floor, the rocky shore of the lake and on the softer floor of your shared hut, it dosen’t matter to her because whatever she wants she will get. More than once one of the girls have stumbled upon you two, and, obviously wise enough not to say anything, just walked away.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

𓌜˚.⋆ You, anytime she's angry, and privacy.

𓌜˚.⋆ Just looking at you and remembering that she owns you is enough to get her hot and needy, but it gets especially badwhen she's angry. As soon as shes able to, and sometimes even when she shouldn't, she’ll grab your arm painfully tight and drag you to a more secluded spot to fuck you raw. And then she'll cling to you for literal hours, until either you or her fall asleep.

𓌜˚.⋆ Privacy is another things that gets her motivated. Whenever she finds you two alone, either by the lake or in the woods, she'll stop for a moment and then pounce on you, having you naked and her head between your legs in under a minute.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

𓌜˚.⋆ Anything that reminds her of Jackie, anal and her bottoming.

𓌜˚.⋆ As stated before, the last time you tried to call her Shipman, she did a cut-and-run. Since you started dating, she's basically expected you to know what not to do to remind her of Jackie, and when you do she'll leave you with a pretty nasty cut. It imediantly kills her mood and shell probably avoid you for a few days before fucking you into an apology, though it wont be fun for you.

𓌜˚.⋆ Her need for control in your relationship has caused her to really dislike bottoming. The only thing she'll allow is degrading comments and the times when you cause her pain, but she’ll make sure you know she's still in charge. And anything to do with anal just gross’ her out majorly.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

𓌜˚.⋆ Has a light preference for giving, as you know she just loves the way you taste, having her head buried in your thighs and lightly nipping your cunt makes her light headed with lust. But she also can't get enough of grabbing fistfuls of you hair and guiding you down, keeping you there until she's satisfied or you desperately need a break. After all, she may be the Butcher, but she isn't heartless.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

𓌜˚.⋆ Depends on her mood and the occasion. On those slow and soft nights once a month, she prefers taking her time and worshipping your body, but whenever she's mad she'll be rough and fast.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

𓌜˚.⋆ Doesn't mind them but prefers to keep them minimal.

𓌜˚.⋆ Those times early in the morning where she can't help herself, but has to be quick before the others wake up, give her a distinct kind of thrill. Or whenever you two have to speed things along when the others are bound to walk in on you two. However when she can take her time with you, savour your taste, go for as many rounds as possible and use her binds and knife, that's when she's the happiest.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

𓌜˚.⋆ Absolutely 💯.

𓌜˚.⋆ Anything new the two of you can think of she's game to try. And when you live in a cannibal commune in the woods with barely any privacy, it's hard not to get ballsy in how openly you can fuck without getting caught.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

𓌜˚.⋆ Easily 3-4 rough rounds back to back. Having been practising incase of another hunt and getting her stamina up, she can go for awhile. Due to how often you two fuck, she's been able to prolong how long it takes for her to cum. However she savours testing your endurance, and how much you can take before you break.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

𓌜˚.⋆ The hilt of her knife and a stick she's been working on since the 3rd month they've been out there.

𓌜˚.⋆ Her knife is her favourite, the danger and ease of it makes it special to her. But goddamn that stick is something to be impressed by. Originally was a price of driftwood she found by the lake, shes wittled it down as smoothly as possible, with light detailing to increase pleasure. Shes made damn fucking sure theres a zero percent chance to get a splinter when using it on either herself or you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

𓌜˚.⋆ Often. Like, really often.

𓌜˚.⋆ She'll find little things to insult or make fun of you for: how needy your being, how wet you are, the way you moan. It's never truly mean, more slut-shaming but occasionally she'll get really nasty. She's recently taken an interest in delaying your orgasm, delighting in your begging whines as you shiver and thrash your bound limbs.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

𓌜˚.⋆ Usually quite low, but can get really loud.

𓌜˚.⋆ Grunts, moans, growls and low words of encouragement are most of the noises she makes, but when she gets close to her climax, she gets loud. Whenever your semi in public she locks you into a deep kiss to stifle her yells of pleasure, or bites down on her arm when your mouth isn’t available.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

𓌜˚.⋆ Loves to feed you well after a good fuck session. She makes sure to time your sessions about a half hour or less before she prepares a meal, making sure to give you the heartiest peices of meat and piles it up higher than anyone else's. She'll steal Misty’s guide book to wild herbs and hunt down a bunch of things to spice up your meal. The smile on your face and compliments on your meal are always enough to make her happy (even if she’ll never admit it).

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

𓌜˚.⋆ Lightly tattered mismatched bras and panties. There's not many options in the Wilderness.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

𓌜˚.⋆ Quite high.

𓌜˚.⋆ She uses sex as an outlet for her emotions and she very easily gets riled up, considering everything thats happened. Whether it's when she's angry, with you in private, or you just look particularly beautiful that day, she's very easy to set off.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

𓌜˚.⋆ Almost always over 30 minutes to be specific. Unless she's absolutely exhausted she rarely falls asleep before you. It's a fear of hers, that if she falls asleep she might wake up to your dead body (wonder where that came from). So unless she's 100% sure you're safe and wrapped up tightly in her arms, she won't be falling asleep anytime soon.

#shauna shipman #yellowjackets #yellowjackets oc #yellowjackets shauna shipman #shauna #shauna shipman x reader #shauna yellowjackets #shauna shipman x you #nsfwalphabet #dark!shauna shipman #dark shauna shipman #dark yellowjackets

88 notes · View notes

angstywaifu · 1 day ago

Text

Fourth Wing Boys - Comfort

Request - head canons for they boys about how they act when they had a bad day and just need some comfort

A/N: There are slight spoilers for Onyx Storm in here. Do not read if you don't wish to have some things spoiled or eluded to.

Masterlist | Links | Tumblr Community

Garrick

Initially this man would be so grumpy. He’d have been dealing with a bunch of first years who thought they knew everything now they’d bonded dragons, and had to do a supply run the night before as well. So between both of those and the little sleep he’d gotten, he’d just be over it.

You’d see him storming off after barely eating any food at dinner. Something that was very unlike him. He’d eat nearly ten times the amount you did. But when he’d barely finished one plate of food, you knew something was wrong.

You’d go after him, heading to the gym where you knew he’d go to left off some steam from whatever was bothering him. But not before grabbing some extra food for him and water before heading there.

You walk in on him unleashing his anger on one of the punching bags. His punches echoing around the room from how hard he’s hitting it.

You wait off to the side, knowing he can tell you’re there. But you know better than to interfere with him. It’s better to leave him be till he wears himself out. Which doesn’t take long. After about 10 minutes he grasps the bag to stop it from swinging around before walking over to you.

As he walks over you undo the top of the water bottle you'd grabbed, and hold out the apple you'd grabbed for him. After draining the water and devouring the apple he picks you up and sits you down on a pile of mats, stepping between your legs as he rests his hands on your hips and leans his forehead against yours.

After a while you convince him to go take a shower before dragging him into bed, laying his head in your lap as your run your fingers through his curly hair, watching as his body slowly relaxes before he lightly starts snoring.

Xaden

You know instantly he’s had a bad day. Hard not to notice with how restless as the shadows are. He may not be nearby, but you’ve always noticed how the shadows in Basgiath react to his mood regardless of where he is.

You find him in his usual spot, leaning up against the exterior walls of Basgiath as he smokes churam. Something he only did when Sgaeyl and Tairn didn’t block him out, or when he’d had a bad day. But it was easy to tell this was from a bad day. Despite the way he leaned up against the wall, his body was tense and rigid.

He doesn’t look at you as you join him against the wall, but you know he knows you’re there. You know better than to try talk to him till he’s ready. It was better to let him start the conversation when he was in one of these moods, otherwise it just made it worse.

Eventually he finishes the Churam he’s smoking, turning his head to look down at you. “That obvious I was in a bad mood?” he asks. You nod up at him, trying to hide you’re smile. “Yeah, just a bit. Which is why I brought you this.”

You reach into your pack you’d brought with you to carry what you’d grabbed from the kitchen. Chocolate cake. His favourite. Instantly a relaxed smile forms on his lips at the sight of the little brown box in your hands. He knows instantly what it is, because you always do this for him.

And just like you always do, you sit down against the wall, chocolate cake on the ground between you two as you sit in a comfortable silence and eat it.

Bodhi

It wasn’t hard to see the way Xaden was getting to Bodhi. Everytime you saw them talking together, you could see how frustrated Bodhi was getting every single time. You had no clue what it was about as he hadn’t brought it up with you, and you didn’t want to bring it up and cause him more stress.

But one night when he isn’t at dinner or at his room, you know you need to find him and talk to him or do something to make him feel better. After searching the entire college, you finally head to the flight field. And sitting on the ground next to a Cuir is Bodhi.

Cuir lifts their head as you approach, watching you as you slowly approach Bodhi. You’d never approached Cuir, but when they lay their head back down on the ground, you know they don’t mind your presence. You sit next to Bodhi, reaching out and grasping his hand to stop him from picking at the grass.

It’s clear how annoyed he is as you take him in. He’d done a good job of hiding it up until now. His body was stiff and rigid and brow furrowed as he kept his eyes downcast to the ground in front of you. After a few minutes he finally relaxes, leaning his head against your shoulder as he grasps your hand in his.

Eventually he stands, pulling you up with him before leading you back to the college and dragging you to his room where he pulls you to his bed, and insisting he gets to be little spoon as you cuddle him to sleep.

Aaric

Since the appearance of Halden, you had noticed a change in Aaric. It was small at first. Just slight changes in behaviour on the day he was around the college. The days where Aaric had to be more careful of where he went so Halden didn’t see him.

But you noticed a big shift once Halden knew he was in the Rider’s Quadrant. Especially today when he’d been pulled from a class, summoned by his brother and father. Once he had returned he was notably pissed off. Everyone else avoiding being around him. You could almost see the anger rolling off him.

You’d decided to let him be after you’d tried talking to him and he’d just grunted in reply. Pushing it would have just made him worse. He would come to you when he was ready. Which he did. Storming into the gym after dinner and heading right for you. Everyone else immediately moves out of his way, not wanting to get in his way. And you couldn’t blame them with how pissed off he looked.

You open your mouth to say something to him, but it turns into a yelp as he literally scoops you up into his arms and turns around. Despite how he turns and storms from the room, you can feel the way he relaxed as soon as he had you in his arms.

He carries you the entire way back to his room, even after you tell him you can walk. He kicks the door closed behind him before sitting down on the bed, cradling you in his lap as he holds you against him, resting his head atop yours as you bury it in his neck.

Dain

You walk into his room to Dain pacing back and forth, nearly pulling his hair out as he grumbles to himself. Clearly something had him worked up today. Something you’d definitely not been there for.

“Do I want to know what happened?” You ask, Dain startling as if he didn’t realise you’d walked in.

He starts pacing and rambling about first years and how they aren’t training the way they should, and how they’re going to be under prepared if they don’t start strengthening their signets. But insists that after what he went through with Violet he would not be coddling first years any more.

Despite his comment about not wanting to coddle them, you can see as a Wingleader he wants to do something. But he’s just not sure as to what. Which for him is a first. But since everything got turned upside down at the start of our third year, he’s been more unsure of himself than usual.

You reach out and grab his hand, stopping him before he wears a hole in the floor from how how much he’s pacing back and forth. You swear you can already see wear marks from the path he’s been walking. You reach out and grab his towel and shower things, shoving them into his hands.

“Now is not the time for showering.” He goes to exclaim before you start pushing him towards the door.

“Trust me it is. Not only do you need a shower to clear your mind, you also stink from being at said training with first years who don’t need coddling. So unless you want me to start coddling you, go shower.”

Dain just stands there and looks at you in shock, clearly not expecting you to come back like that. “How about cuddling instead of coddling?” He finally asks.

“Shower first, then cuddling.”

Ridoc

Ridoc was always making jokes, or making light of a situation. But there was something different about his jokes this evening. A different edge to them that just didn’t seem quite like Ridoc. His jokes had a more self deprecating tone to them than normal

When the others went to get more food, you stayed behind. Something he noticed as he locked eyes with you across the table. He knew you had seen right through him. Knew you’d picked up on his slight change in behaviour the others hadn’t. All it takes is a raised eyebrow before he tells you.

“Aotrom saw right through my prank.” He admits with a huff of annoyance.

You knew he’d been so excited about this prank. Had been going on about it for weeks. Clearly he must have slipped with his shields and Aotrom had seen it coming and foiled his plans.

“Well I guess you’re just going to have come up with an even better prank then.” You say excitedly, hoping it will peak his interest.

Ridoc just sighs and hangs his head. “But this one took weeks to plan and it was amazing. I don’t know if I can top it.”

“Well good thing you have me to help you plan this one then isn’t it.” You tell him

Instantly Ridoc lights up with excitement. Usually you try to stay out of his pranks, even when he begged and pleaded for your input. So you knew you offering to help him would make his day instantly better. And it does. Ridoc practically jumps over the table to sit next to you and start formulating his next prank.

Sawyer

Sawyer wasn’t the loudest of the group, but he certainly wasn’t the quietest. But since challenge’s halfway through the day you’d noticed him getting quieter and quieter. Watched has he’d zone out to the point you’d had to shove his shoulder when Kaori had asked him a question and had just stared blankly at the front of the classroom like he hadn’t heard him.

You’d wanted to grab him after class but Rhi had pulled you aside to talk about some training she wanted to do together the next day seeing as we were still unable to fly due to the colder weather. And when you’d turned around, he was gone. And then at dinner, his chair remained empty.

While the others were lost in their own conversation you left, heading up to his room. You could see the flicker of light under his door, knowing he was inside. You knocked on the door, only to be met with silence. Thirty seconds later you tried again, and yet again no response.

“I know you’re in there Sawyer. I’m not leaving till you open the door.” You call out as you rest your hand against the door.

Finally after a few moments the door swings open, revealing a very withdrawn Sawyer who turns and walks into his room before sitting on the edge of the bed and burying his head in his hands. You close the door behind you, walking over and sitting next to him as you place a hand on his back. You feel him tense up, but he quickly relaxes into your touch.

You didn’t need to ask what was wrong. Because you already knew. He’d lost his challenge. Watched him fumble over a manoeuvre he knew well. And it had cost him the win. And you knew he was kicking himself for it. Knew with the weight of what happened last year he didn’t feel like he was good enough to be here.

“I know what you’re thinking. And one mistake doesn’t mean you’re not good enough to be here, to be a rider. We all make mistakes.” You tell him. He lifts his head, lips parting to argue back. But you cut him off. “No. I’m not letting you do this. You are enough Sawyer. You bonded a dragon this year. Hell, you repeated a year when most people wouldn’t. You deserve your spot here. Don’t ever doubt that.”

After a few seconds he smiles softly at you, his usual spark back in his eyes. “Gods you’re too good for me. I love you.” He says as he takes your hands in his. “Love you to Sawyer.”

Liam

It’s late at night when someone knocks at your door. A first you freeze, not sure if you should answer the door. Who the hell would be knocking at your door this late at night. You’re tempted to pretend you’re asleep when they knock again, this time followed by a familiar voice.

“I know you’re in there reading Y/N. Open the door. Please.”

The way he says please has you throwing the book down on the bed, rushing across the room and pulling open the door to a very exhausted looking Liam. Liam who looks like he’s about two seconds away from dropping dead from exhaustion.

You grasp his hand, pulling him into your room before closing the door and pulling him over to your bed. You hadn’t expected to see him tonight. He was meant to be out on a supply run. Wasn’t due back till far later in the evening. But it’s clear he never made it on the supply run. The usual smell that came from riding a dragon was absent.

You knew from the look on his face what was up. He missed his sister. And he only got like this when an important date around his family came up. And clearly today was one of them. A day where he needed his sister, but couldn’t. Just a few more months and he’d have her back.

You start to push off his flight jacket, undoing the laces on his boots before he kicks them off and pulling down his pants and removing his shirt. Pushing back the covers, you usher him into your bed before sliding in next to him.

Instantly his arms wrap around you as he cuddles up to you, resting his head against your chest as you play with his hair. Both of you enjoying each others company in blissful silence.

135 notes · View notes

uluru-xavren · 2 days ago

Text

THE LOVE OF A WRITER

Xavier x Writer!Reader

RAFAYEL VER. | ZAYNE VER. | SYLUS VER. | SYLUS VER.

A/N: This is the first time I ever write on Tumblr, and also the first time I wrote something in 2nd person about LADS. English is not my first language, so I'd appreciate any type of feedback to improve my writing c: thank you for reading!

Summary: Xavier is coming to your apartment to watch a movie. While waiting for you in the living room, he finds a notebook that ignites a flame at the idea that someone else had stolen your heart.

Tags: Pre-relationship, fluff, some angst (just a little), sfw, jealous Xavier, conflicted feelings.

Words: 2,6k

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You had invited Xavier to come over to watch a movie, taking advantage of his day off. It was a regular activity you'd adopted since you'd become close after so much time being neighbors and coworkers. While you were in charge of cooking —since you didn't fully trust Xavier's cooking skills—, he was in charge of buying drinks and some snacks for the movie.

While you were waiting for Xavier to arrive, you decided to take a quick shower. You made sure to send him a text letting him know he could come in freely to get comfortable until you were done.

Xavier always made sure to bring your favorite snack or dessert as compensation for you always cooking something delicious for him. He usually didn't pay too much attention to what he ate, too busy hunting Wanderers and sleeping, only eating instant noodles and simple dishes that Xavier managed to cook without making a mess, or just go to a hot pot restaurant if he didn't feel like settling for his poor cooking. Every time you invited him over to eat was like a gift to him.

He entered your apartment silently, one of his hands carrying a bag with snacks and drinks to share with you during the movie. The other was holding his phone, still with your chat on the screen. Knowing that you were busy taking a shower, he walked to your living room and settled on the couch to wait for you.

He wasn't a nosy person, he respected your privacy a lot even when sometimes he was dying to know what was going on in your mind. So, whatever kind of secret you had, he would respect it because he knew you would tell him when you felt comfortable enough.

When he saw the open notebook on the table next to the sofa, he couldn't help but feel curious. He didn't think it was something private considering it was open, it's content revealed to anyone to see.

He picked it up with curiosity and looked at it carefully. It was a scruffy, plain notebook, nothing flashy. Xavier remembered having seen that notebook in the past: In a cafeteria where you two had agreed to go, you were absentmindedly writing in that notebook, oblivious to Xavier's gaze, and when he reached your side, you smiled at him and closed the notebook immediately. Or when he saw you by chance in a plaza, you were eating some donuts while your eyes focused on the notebook and your hand moved non-stop. That time Xavier didn't make you stop writing, it was you who stopped writing, putting away the notebook and grabbing your things before looking up and encountering his gaze.

It was inevitable that he felt curious about the content. What was it that had you so focused on writing? He thought he might come across lists, date reminders, or things like that. Maybe even some drawing. But what he found were pages full of text, some scratches and corrections here and there. Your handwriting varied in shape and size, sometimes clear and neat, other times sloppy, abrupt, and confusing.

Despite how overwhelming the interior looked, Xavier tried to read the first line of a paragraph.

«He is kind, gentle, and chivalrous. He easily attracts attention even when he doesn't mean to. People couldn't help but gravitate toward him like moths to a flame. Akira was simply exceptional».

Nothing in that paragraph had caught his attention until he read what followed.

«Maybe that's why I liked him so much».

He stared at the text, reading that last line over and over again. It was as if he couldn't quite comprehend what he was reading, as if the words didn't quite make sense. When he was finally convinced that what he was reading was not a product of his imagination, he began to read a few more lines.

«I liked to take advantage of any situation to be by his side. He was dense enough not to notice my intentions.»

«One of my favorite places is the beach when it's about to rain. I realized that's the exact color of her eyes. Other times they were the color of the starry night sky.»

«...and his lips were the most tempting thing the universe could have created.»

Many things went through Xavier's head too quickly, thoughts that merged together and were too confusing to say out loud. Only one thing stood out from all his mental chaos.

Who is Akira?

His mind tried to recall all the workers he remembered from the Association. He tried to remember if he had ever read Akira's name anywhere or heard it in conversation. After failing at that, he tried to remember if any neighbors in the building had that name, maybe someone he hadn't met but you had. The more he searched, the less he found.

By the time you got out of the shower and walked back into the living room, dressed and arranged comfortably, Xavier had a thoughtful expression, the closed notebook on the table next to the sofa.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a smile and approached the small table to see the contents of the bag he had brought. “As expected of you, you brought my favorite.”

You called him to come to the dining room, since you had left the food ready for when he arrived.

He didn't move.

“Xavier?” You called.

It took him a moment to snap out of his thoughtful state.

“Oh. Coming.”

You ate and talked peacefully, you asked him questions from time to time and he answered gently and kindly. Still, it was inevitable to feel that his responses were more careful than usual.

Once you settled in to watch the movie, Xavier took on a serious expression that was out of place considering the movie was mostly a comedy. Still, you didn't question it, you knew Xavier was sometimes strange in his own way, so you didn't think anything of it.

After a few minutes of the film, Xavier was unable to hold it any longer. Although the way he started the conversation wasn't... subtle.

“Do you like someone?”

You turned to look at him instantly, unable to believe that he had actually asked something like that out of the blue.

“What?”

For some reason, that answer irritated him. He wanted to ask you so many things. Ask you about that "Akira" you mentioned so often in your notebook, ask you if you truly meant everything you said in those pages. Ask you if it were true, what you thought of him. Did you see him as just a friend? Coworker? Neighbor?

Suddenly he realized how easy it was to lose you over something as mundane as you falling in love with someone other than him. It was like a punch in the stomach when he realized he might have already lost you.

For a second, he had a flashback to a conversation in the past, who knows how many years ago.

You saying that maybe you had fallen in love with someone, him replying that it was a good thing. You asking if he wasn't curious to know who it was, and him having to take a moment to say that it didn't matter, that he was happy for you.

Too guilty for not being honest with you.

Too jealous to accept that someone else had your heart.

“Do you like someone?” He asked again, unable to continue thinking about how unpleasant the feeling of deja vu was.

“Where does that question come from?” You laughed and he felt more irritation and his stomach turn over.

Was that a yes?

“Lately I've noticed certain things,” he lied. He was good at lying, he had been doing it for a long time. He was especially good at lying to you, unfortunately. “You smile more, your eyes sparkle... and we watch more romantic movies than usual.”

He said the last thing while pointing at the television with his chin. The main couple was in the middle of a romantic scene, looking at each other affectionately and sharing smiles.

“Oh,” you said. “I hadn't realized that.”

Again, an answer he didn't like.

“So? Is that a yes?” He settled back on the couch, turning his body to look directly at you. “Who’s the lucky one?”

You laughed again, leaning over the living room table to reach for a snack. Xavier pressed his lips together.

You weren't taking him seriously.

“I have no idea how you came to that conclusion, but I assure you there is no one.” You smiled at him sincerely. “It’s all just a coincidence.”

Lie.

The fact that you didn't want to tell him directly was another blow to the gut. You didn't trust him? You didn't want him to know? Why?

There was a silence in which only the movie could be heard. Xavier was no longer listening and you only paid half attention to it. Then he spoke again.

“Who is Akira?”

When those words left his mouth, he immediately regretted saying them because he knew he had sounded desperate.

Until he saw the change in your expression. You didn't laugh. Your smile froze and there was something in your eyes that confirmed he had asked the right thing.

He saw alarm.

“Who?” You asked, but instead of genuine confusion, he heard caution.

You knew who he was talking about.

“Akira.” He responded softly, his eyes focused on you, looking for more information with any change in your expression.

“Where did you hear that name?”

Faced with that question, Xavier had the decency to look away and look embarrassed. What was he supposed to tell you? That he'd snooped through your notebook without your permission while you weren't looking? What would that say about him? That would only prove you right that he was not trustworthy.

He couldn't bear the thought of breaking your trust. Not again.

Your gaze quickly searched for the table next to the sofa that was behind Xavier. It was closed, but you couldn't help but press your lips together, tense that it was within his reach.

As Xavier looked away, you stood up from the couch and leaned towards him. He immediately turned his gaze to you, eyes wide open as he watched you come closer. However, when he saw you step back with the notebook in your hand, he looked away.

“Xavier...” You kept your gaze on your notebook, your hands gripping it tightly. After a moment, you looked up at him, tense. “Did you read my notebook?”

Xavier swallowed before looking at you.

“It... wasn’t my intention.” He told you with sincerity and heaviness.

Again you two fell silent. The film had been completely forgotten by both of you. You looked at Xavier like you didn't believe he was real and he looked at you like you were about to break his heart.

Then, against all odds, you laughed.

“My god,” you gasped, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. “How embarrassing.”

That wasn't the reaction he was expecting. He looked at you in confusion as you shook your head and looked back at him.

“It’s not what you think,” you said confidently. “I don’t like any Akira.”

It took Xavier a moment to respond.

“I read—”

“Yeah, I know.” You laughed again, this time rubbing your face with one hand. When you pulled away and Xavier could see your face again, he saw the slight blush on your cheeks. “But what you read isn't my secret diary or anything like that. It’s my writing notebook.”

Xavier remained silent, processing your answer. He went over your words again and again until he finally registered their weight.

“Writing notebook?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “A notebook where I write down spontaneous ideas I have to write stories or longer projects in the future.”

Xavier continued to look at you intently as you opened the notebook to the first pages.

“Here’s my character index,” you explained as you carefully showed him the pages. “Akira is one of them. One of the main ones, in fact.” You flipped more pages to the middle and showed him more messy text. “These are ideas that come to me out of nowhere. Sometimes they're full scenes, other times they're thoughts of a specific character.”

You looked up with a small smile.

“What you read were the thoughts of my main character about him at the climax of the story.”

With those words, Xavier breathed again. He let out a shaky sigh and looked away from your face. It was as if an invisible weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he couldn't help but bring his fist to his lips in an attempt to hide his embarrassed expression.

“I thought that—” He said but stopped, thinking that maybe what he said would only embarrass him more.

This time you laughed out loud as Xavier tried to hide his embarrassment by grabbing a snack from the table. He ate without looking at you, incredulous that his apparent rival was a product of your imagination.

“Why were you so curious to know if I liked Akira?” You asked between laughs, still not wanting to drop the subject.

“I just—” He took a moment to answer. “I was curious to know who was the person that you wrote so passionately about.”

“Mmh...”

Entertained to see this side of Xavier, you decided to tease him a little.

“Well, do you wanna know a secret?” You leaned closer to him, voice quiet. “Akira is inspired by a real person.”

That was enough to get his attention. He looked at you again, his eyes fixed on you, attentive, alert, with tension ready to creep into his bones.

“Who?”

“Nope!” You shook your head. “That's a secret!”

You crossed your arms and raised your chin with a definitive gesture, giving drama to your words. Faced with his silence, you couldn't help but glance at him and seeing his expression —as if ready to seek out the one who had inspired such passionate writing—, you smiled at him.

“He is the most trusted and important person in the world to me. I am grateful to the universe for sending me such a wonderful star by my side.”

And your smile —Gods, your smile— was all he needed to realize your words. It felt like a shared secret. Like a confession.

His frown relaxed and he opened his mouth to speak, although at first he was unable to do so.

“Am I...?”

“The movie!” You turned your full attention back to the television, too embarrassed to give him any more information than you had already.

Xavier didn't need anything else to understand, not when he saw the blush on your face and the way you were trying so desperately to distance yourself talking about the movie and interesting facts about it.

He let out a chuckle that made you blush even more and made you think that maybe you had shared much away. However, Xavier simply adjusted himself so that he was sitting closer to you and his pinky finger brushed against yours on the couch.

“I'd love to read more of... your main character's thoughts about ‘Akira’,” he said with a warm and sincere smile.

Xavier definitely wouldn't leave you alone until he had read absolutely everything you had written in your notebook, until you told him how or why you made certain decisions and, especially, why didn't you just use his name instead of Akira's.

“Why did you name him Akira?”

“I didn't want to name him like anyone I knew.”

“You could just use my name, you know. I would prefer that you... your main character thinks all that about me and not a stranger.”

“Stop—”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A/N: Thank you for reading! I might write more about writer!reader with the other LIs. I'd appreciate any type of ideas for future fics ;>

#xavier x reader #lads #lads xavier #lads x reader #lads x you #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #xavier x you #xavier love and deepspace

80 notes · View notes

6anoufriev6boys6locket · 1 day ago

Text

dylric forcefeeding fic

includes forcefeeding, cake, puke, anorexia, internalized homophobia, etc.

commissioned by my friends! thank you so much!!! you guys were my first commission!<3

eric hadnt been in a great mood.

just before he had come over to dylans house, he had gotten into an argument with his parents. what was the argument about? well, his parents were less then happy with the fact that he had been spending so much time with his friend, throwing accusations at him about being a “homosexual”.

his sexuality was something he kept under lock and key, confused about it himself, so his parents accusing him of such was incredibly frustrating.

he tries to ignore it, though. it was dylans birthday after all and here he was, sitting on the floor of his bedroom with two pieces of cake on separate plates. they had gone through the whole cake cutting and candles, dylan requesting that him and eric just go up to his room after they were done. his parents didnt mind - it was *his* birthday, after all.

though, they wouldnt let him go without a piece of cake. he tried to decline it, but the plate was already in his hands before he could get the words out. it was a nice cake too, an obviously expensive one. it was a chocolate cake with thick, fudge-y icing and layers. it was fluffy and moist, so sweet it would make you sick if you ate it too fast.

“you can have my piece if you want, reb.” but dylan wasnt interested in having it. he wasnt a fan of eating in general.

“its yours, dude. you should eat it,” he always encouraged him to eat, well aware of his destructive habits “its really good.” he had eaten about half of his piece already while the others was untouched.

he shakes his head “nah, im good,” he sits back against his bed, placing the plate on the floor on erics side “im full from dinner, anyway.”

eric knew how much of a lie that was. he was here for dinner too and his friend had barely eaten anything.

“you barely ate at dinner,” he points it out, a little annoyed with him “just eat the damn cake, vee. dont fuckin’ waste it.”

dylan was a little taken aback by how rude erics comment was.

he frowned “im not wasting it,” he looks over at him, obviously thrown off “i just dont want it - im full.”

the brunette cant help but roll his eyes “full - yeah right,” he scoffed “youre not fooling anyone, especially not me. just eat it.”

the two of them usually didnt fight or argue over many things, especially not stuff like this, but erics poor mood was only increased by how annoyed he was with dylans situation. he was tired of having to worry about him and whether he ate or not, he was practically skin and bones.

“im not trying to “fool”anyone,” it was clearly making the other upset too “whats your fuckin’ deal, man? youve been being so .. shitty this whole time.”

that was enough to push eric over the edge. it was barely anything, but his patience was already so thin as is. he sets his own plate down and turns fully to face dylan.

“im tired of dealing with your damn bullshit!,” he snapped “eatings not gonna kill you, dylan! youre not a damn - girl.” his says it spaced out, further agitated with that fact. he wasnt a girl, he was a boy - a boy he was interested in.

“god forbid i want to watch my weight,” he snapped back, looking away from him, but there was some shame behind his words “you know i weigh too much, eric, i cant just eat whatever i want.” his arms subconsciously cross over his abdomen, feeling embarrassed about the mention of his weight.

“you *dont*! jesus, dylan - when is it gonna get through your head!,” he paused, making a choice that definitely wasnt the smartest “you know what? come here.”

before the blonde has a chance to react, eric has already grabbed his face and pried his mouth open. he picks up the unused fork and stabs it through the soft cake, picking up a piece of it. it was a decent size piece, lots of the filling and frosting was on it too.

he shoves it into his mouth before pulling the fork out and holding his mouth closed. the other tries to say something, but it comes out as a muffled mess, hand grabbing at his wrist to try to make him let go.

“swallow it.” he orders, giving him no choice but to reluctantly chew and swallow the cake.

some of the filling and frosting had gotten on his lips from the struggle, already having made a mess of himself.

once eric is sure he swallowed, he lets go of his mouth, but hes already getting a second bites worth on the fork.

“what the hell, eric! im not - mmf!” hes swiftly cut off as another bit of the fluffy dessert is shoved into his mouth.

“you wont eat it yourself, so im helping you,” he hissed, holding his mouth closed again, waiting for him to swallow “if you dont want me to help, then you shouldve done it yourself.”

again, dylan has no choice but to chew and swallow. he felt disgusted that any of this was even going into his body, he hated the idea of gaining any bit of weight from this at all. the texture of the frosting and filling on his lips made him sick.

the brunette lets go once more, getting a third forkful ready.

“i just dont want it!,” he quickly tries to speak before he shoves more of it into his mouth “one piece is like a whole meal in and of itself!”

eric makes sure the third forkful is bigger then the first two, a good chunk compared to the first two pieces he took off.

“shut up, vee - you sound like a freakin’ girl!” he roughly shoves the third chunk into his mouth, making him choke on it. he hated how much he sounded like a girl when he spoke about meals and weight loss - it reminded him that he was wasting his time on his friend, a boy, rather then looking for a girlfriend.

dylan whimpered, struggling to eat the piece given to him. it was far too big and sweet for him, it felt awful in his mouth as he chewed it into a paste and swallowed it. his neglected stomach was already protesting against it, making him feel nauseous.

he managed to get a good grip on his wrist this time, forcing his hand away before he could get a fourth piece, making him drop the fork in the process.

“im not eating the rest of that crap,” he still refused to eat any of it despite the fact that there really wasnt a choice being given to him “seriously, man, what is your problem? you never care about this shit that much!”

dylan had no clue what he was doing. he was pushing all the wrong buttons and *seriously* getting on erics nerves. the fork dropping on the floor is what sent him over the edge *completely*.

in one swift move, eric pinned dylan down to the floor, making dylan yelp as his head hit the ground.

“shut up, shut up!,” he keeps his legs on either side of his body, making sure he couldnt move “whats my problem? *you*! youre the fuckin’ problem!,” as he spoke, he grabbed the plate and pulled it over “im stuck here, taking care of you, *worrying* over you, when i could be doing something better!”

he doesnt even care about getting his hands dirty, picking up a chunk of the cake with his hand while his free one kept his mouth open.

“cant do crap when i have to worry about you twenty four seven!,” he shoves the dessert into his mouth, ignoring the way dylan tried to shove him off, his words becoming a choked mess “how do you think that feels, huh? its like im your damn babysitter!”

his questions are only answered with muffled whining, tears starting to gather on the other boys lashes as he struggles to swallow down the cake. its clear that this was much more then just eric getting him to eat, there was a lot of anger and resentment behind his words.

he doesnt even give him a chance to relax or to let the food settle, picking up another bit, smaller, and shoving it right into his mouth again.

dylan felt like he could puke. his stomach hurt terribly and eric sitting on top of him didnt help either - nor did the bits of cake that were being shoved into his mouth. prior to this, he wasnt really aware of him feeling any particular way. he hadnt done anything wrong to his knowledge and, frankly, he didnt.

eric didnt know how else to project these feelings of self hatred and anger, so instead he took it out on his friend - the supposed source of it all.

he had stopped struggling at this point, seeing as though there was only one piece of it left. the brunette picks it up and shoves it into his mouth, deliberately choking him this time.

he gagged around the piece, the thick paste being too much for him to swallow. he couldnt spit it out though with the way his mouth was being held shut, so, once more, he forced himself to swallow it.

eric watched, almost reveling in his struggle. it was a fraction of what he put him through and it felt satisfying to make him feel some kind of pain.

it took him much longer to swallow it down this time, his breathing ragged and shaky as his mouth was let go of, but he still didnt give him a second to adjust.

his fingers were coated in the thick frosting, even making him feel a little grossed out. he went out of his way to stick his fingers into his mouth, staring down at him with a glare.

“lick it off, dylan.”he orders coldly, pressing his fingers against his tongue.

he tries to refuse, turning his head, but he quickly grabs him and makes him stay still.

“lick. it. off.” he hissed, repeating his instructions. he was only satisfied when he felt his friend finally lick the icing off. he could tell he was trying not to gag as he did so.

once they were clean, eric pulled his fingers out of dylans mouth, inspecting them. he was happy with the results and with his work, so he got off of him and sat back.

an awkward silence fell between the two of them, unsure of how to approach the aftermath of a situation like this.

eric thought he would be much more fulfilled from doing this, but then his own guilt set in. dylan was still his *friend*, his best friend at that who he trusted more then anything. he didnt want to lose him over his poor decision making skills.

dylan groans, trying to adjust to the full feeling in his stomach. he hadnt been full in a long time, he hated the way it felt and how heavy it made him feel - not to mention the nausea.

he struggled to sit up, feeling a little dizzy. his mouth and shirt was covered in the filling and icing from the cake, it was disgusting.

soon enough, he gagged hard, turning his body and leaning over as he puked onto the floor.

the brunette watched, cringing as he did so. wow, what a shitty friend he was. he didnt think of the very real possibility of this happening - the vomit was all the undigested cake he had just spent twenty minutes shoving into his mouth. it was gross.

he didnt know what to say or what to do - what could he even do?, but thankfully, dylan was a step ahead of him.

“reb,” he whined, having a hard time sitting up straight “you, ughnf,” he gagged again, spitting up more of the sugary dessert onto the floor.

eric quickly moved over, gently pulling his hair out of the way “yeah, ive got you, vee.” all the anger in his words seemed to dissipate, being replaced by awkwardness and concern.

it was only fair he helped him after being the cause of his sickness.

#tcc tumblr #tcc twt #tccblr #tccblur #tcctwt #tee cee cee #teeceecee #tcc fandom #anoufrievboy coms #anoufrievboy fics #columbine 1999 #tcc columbine #dylric #dylan and eric #eric and dylan #dylan columbine #eric columbine

73 notes · View notes

overadores · 1 day ago

Text

unexpected hello, unwanted goodbye

── .✦ 𝐒ophia 𝐋aforteza

"Hindi tayo pwede"

༉‧₊˚.pairing: sophia laforteza x reader ༉‧₊˚.genre: heavy angst. no comfort. ༉‧₊˚.cw: homophobic and misogynist parents. right person, wrong time. unlabeled relationship. violence. homophobia. ༉‧₊˚.wc: 11.6k ༉‧₊˚.author's note: okay, please do not portray the characters’ personalities as reflections of real people — especially Sophia's parents. For the love of God, it's just part of the story. so I repeat: DO NOT and this might stung a little. not proofread. also some dialogues of Sophia is in Tagalog. i really dragged this out so please excuse that lol, anw i hope you guys enjoy reading!!

"Pinagtagpo pero 'di tinadhana"

Sophia Laforteza.

She’s the well-known daughter of a famous chef and a retired actress. The only daughter out of three siblings, and her mother’s expected— successor in the limelight. Ever since she could remember, Sophia was always the center of attention. Not in a sparkly, look-at-me kind of way—but in a way that felt…heavy. Like she was carrying something that was never really hers to begin with.

Her older and younger brothers? They were just there. Background characters. Her parents never really paid them much attention. Her dad would always say with a soft chuckle, “You’re a girl, darling—you’re too emotional and fragile to handle the real world like your brothers can. We need to take care of you.”

And that’s what Sophia always kept in mind whenever her parents dictated what she could or couldn’t do. She never thought of them as strict—just overprotective. She thought, maybe they just love me too much. Maybe all that control was their way of showing care.

When Sophia reached elementary, she started noticing things. Her friends had parents who let them go out, who said “yes” to playdates, sleepovers, and mall trips. Meanwhile, Sophia was always told “Hala, you might get lost and never come back to us,” or “May masasamang loob diyan, anak. They might take you and we’ll never see you again.”

She never protested. Never questioned. She just nodded, returned to her room, and played with her toys like nothing was wrong. She didn’t ask her friends why their parents were so...chill. Why no one watched their every move. Why did they seem free? Sophia thought, “Siguro, my parents just love me more.

High school went by in a blur. Halfway through 10th grade, she found herself transferring schools—not just to another city, but to the States. It came out of nowhere. One minute, she was settling into her old school, the next, she was dealing with new faces, unfamiliar routines, and time zones her body refused to adjust to. But she made it through. She finished with grades good enough to please her parents.

Then came college.

Sophia started her freshman year as the shy, quiet type. The kind of student professors liked because she never caused a scene. She barely spoke unless called on. She had no friends, no distractions. Her routine was strict—get home early, no hanging out, no dilly-dallying. So she just focused her way on the top and never cared for any social interactions not until one of the popular girls “befriended” her.

Sophia didn’t want to be with this certain circle of friends, she knew their reputation around the school. She had heard things—rumors, whispers about the kind of stuff they did after school. Parties, alcohol, hooking up with seniors. Which was not her scene, but of course her people pleasing skills betrayed her.

She didn’t know how to say no.

At first it was just a friendly interaction—hello’s in the hallway, turned into eating with them during lunch, then into being groups with them in every project. She tried her best to keep their friendship at that level, no hangouts at each other's houses, no invites, just a purely casual friendship.

Then one night—it was already quiet, everyone was asleep except for one person. Sophia’s still chatting at their group chat (their “project” group chat), they were telling her to go to this party with them. They want to celebrate. Sophia was hesitant with this decision, telling them that she was about to sleep and she can’t go because her parents would be mad, but they suggested that Sophia should sneak out of her bedroom window and they’ll see her outside of her front porch.

At first, she laughed it off. But deep down, a part of her wanted to say yes. Just this once. Just to feel something that was hers. With one last push of her “friends”, she got up and quietly picked out what she would wear and told them to meet her at the front porch. Sophia was no good at sneaking out since this was her first time doing it. Her so-called friends told her every move to what to do when to sneak out, she built a body fort of herself, she quietly opened her window—she was thankful that her bedroom floor was on the second floor near a tree. Her hands trembled as she climbed down, careful to avoid the house’s security cameras.

When she hit the ground, she didn’t even look back. She hurriedly went to her friends who were waiting for her at the said location. For the first time, she felt...free. Nervous but free. As she reached the party, everything became overwhelming—the flashing lights, the strong smell of cheap beer and sweat could be smelled outside. Before she could protest, The group dragged her inside the house, laughing.

She was handed a cup of beer, the person that handed her encouraged her into drinking by bringing the cup onto Sophia’s lips. “Cheers, Laforteza,” she said. Both of them drank—one with a satisfied expression and the other disgusted. That person elbowed Sophia following a laugh, “C’mon you’ll warm up with the taste once you always get the taste of it”. So Cup after cup. Her head spun. Her cheeks burned.

Sophia didn’t know how many she drank, but she knew that it was enough to knock her down. She brought the cup down on a table and found herself a room or even a couch to sit herself down. She was not feeling well, everything was feeling too hot, too dizzy, too blurry. One of her friends sat down beside her “See? This isn’t so bad, you just need to trust us and have fun along the way” they groggily said and passed out right after.

Sophia couldn’t even respond.

She blacked out.

The morning after was no good—a ton of missed calls from her parents, her friends were still knocked out, and she has no idea where she is and how she’ll go home. Sophia was in a state of panic, and didn't know what to do. She wanted to call her parents first, thinking of a lie that they’ll believe. As they picked up the call Sophia’s heart rate was picking up too.

Sophia didn’t get to defend herself or even tell her where she’s at; when she heard her mom’s voice yelling, telling her to go home or she’ll get punished. Sophia stood up from the couch she was sitting on and gathered her things. She was about to wake up one of her friends, but when she looked around these were not the people she arrived with last night. Her friends were nowhere in sight, the living room was just full of strangers.

She sat there, panic crawling up her throat.

They left her there.

A room full of strangers.

A place she doesn’t know.

She sighed out in defeat, thinking that she might as well tell her parents where she’s at and just accept their punishment. Before she could think of ringing them again, her phone buzzed. Kuya. She jumped out of the couch quickly when her brother said that he was outside at her location. She looked out the window and there’s her savior—inside the black mustang and gesturing to her to come hurriedly. Sophia ran to the door and ran towards the parked car.

The car ride to their home was her keep on ranting about what happened.

Of course, her brother scolded her. He didn’t yell. Not yet. He just ran the whole way back.

Told you so. Drop them. They’re a bad influence. Don’t you see what they did to you?

She barely listened. She was too busy replaying everything in her head.

When they arrived home, Sophia prepared herself. She took a deep breath. Steeled her nerves.

But nothing could prepare her for the way her mother looked at her. Fire in her eyes. Disappointment. Rage. Fear. All of it rolled into one.

“Where were you?!” her mom yelled. Sophia bowed her head down, trying her best not to get affected by how her mother screamed at her. “Alalang-alala kami, Sophia!” her father shouted, his voice louder than she’d ever heard it.

Sophia knew that she cannot defend herself in this situation. She either lies or tells them the truth and accepts whatever punishment they are going to give her. She was about to say it, tell them that she sneaked out of the house, and went to a party without their permission. She was gonna tell the truth, but that wasn’t the words she said to them. Lies spewed out of her mouth, telling them that ““I was tutoring... I fell asleep at her house.”

Her mom looked at her brother for confirmation, searching his eyes. He nodded, silently backing her lie. Sophia looked at him, eyes filled with gratitude and guilt.Sophia’s parents dismissed her brother, but let her stay there, so now she was left with them in their living room. Sophia’s mom sat down on the couch rubbing her temples as an attempt to calm her nerves down while her dad sighed out and looked at her daughter.

“Sophia. Pack your bags. You’re transferring to a new school. Somewhere private. Secluded. You are already being a rebel. We already told you disobeying us can cause you a punishment” her father said.

Her mouth fell open. “What? Just because I snuck out?!”

Her mom stood up, “you sneaked out, you barely keep your grades up, and now you’re yelling and talking back? This isn’t the Sophia we raised. You need proper discipline. Pack your bags now. Your brother will take you tomorrow” she said in the most calm way.

She stormed to her room, furious and heartbroken, she flopped to her bed and rethought what’s happening to her. She’s not the person she is right now. The Sophia she knew doesn’t sneak out, doesn’t involve herself into peer pressure, and especially doesn’t lie to her parents.

She screamed into her pillow.

She doesn’t want a new school. She doesn’t want to start all over again.

But she had no choice so she got up and went to her closet started packing her belongings,

The next day.

The ride to her new school was too quiet for her liking. Her older brother was driving and the younger one is clinging to her and feels like won’t let go anytime soon. Sophia thought it would be another school in a city where she could refresh her life all over again, thinking that her parents agreed for her to have her own space and dorm room, but when she opened her eyes, she saw trees. mountains. barely any buildings.

The car came to a halt indicating that they’ve reached the school. Sophia looked out the car window—the school looked old enough, minimal students were only to be seen, and nuns were all over the school grounds.

They got out of the car—Sophia being hesitant

A Catholic school.

She felt like the air got sucked out of her lungs.

She had never been in a place like this.

Strict didn’t even begin to describe it.

She stepped out of the car slowly, got her things and looked at her brothers one last time. Her younger brother ran to her “Ate, i’ll miss you po.” he cried while hugging her. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before the break” she said reassuring him while hugging him tightly.

Her older brother ruffled her hair.

“Soph, try to pick your friends right this time, ha. Don’t let them influence you into bad things” Her older brother advised. She nodded, swallowing back her tears. “I’ll miss you both. Take care of bunso for me, ha.”

And with that, Sophia turned to face her new beginning.

She headed to her dorm room, suitcase in one hand and exhaustion weighing down the other. Her first day at this new, secluded Catholic school had already drained her—mentally and emotionally. She just wanted to lie down and forget the world existed. But when she pushed the door open, she didn’t expect to see anyone yet—let alone someone standing in the middle of the room with smudged black ink all over their uniform, fingers, and even a streak on their cheek.

You turned to face her, grinning as if you weren’t an absolute mess.

“Hi, roomie! I’m Y/N L/N,” you chirped, voice bright and welcoming. “I’d hug you, but... I’m kind of in a situation right now, so your hug will be arriving later!”

Your energy caught her off guard.

Sophia blinked. For a split second, she fought a smirk, but it never fully formed. Instead, she shook her head lightly, walked to the nearest bed, and started setting her things down without a word.

You disappeared into the shared bathroom shortly after, changing out of your ink-stained clothes and washing your hands.When you stepped back out, you spotted her unpacking, moving around in quiet, efficient motions. Her silence filled every corner of the room, like it had weight.

You cleared your throat, trying to ease the weird tension lingering between the two of you.

“I didn’t get your name, roomie,” you said, casually cleaning your desk.

She didn’t even pause what she was doing.

Sophia sighed out, thinking that you won’t stop bothering her unless she gave you a name. “Sophia” she said shortly—barely sparing you a glance. There was a little hint of annoyance in her tone, like she was already done with this conversation before it even started.

But you nodded at her short response, unfazed. You had a feeling she was the guarded type—and those were always the most interesting.

So, being you, you kept on asking her some questions. Not in an annoying way, but with real curiosity. Something about her just pulled at you—the way she moved, the way she didn’t meet your eyes, the way she seemed like she wanted to disappear.

You started simple: her age, where she was from, what school she went to before. She answered all of them, clipped and cold, but you didn’t mind. As long as she answered, that was good enough for you.

Then your curiosity got the best of you. "so…what made you transfer here so suddenly?” you questioned her, not realizing how that one question would shift everything.

Her hands stilled on the edge of her drawer.

She didn’t look up.

You could feel the energy change.

Her walls came up before she even opened her mouth.

“What’s with the interrogation?” she snapped, her voice sharp and defensive. “Do you ask everyone that, or just me?”

You froze, surprised by the bite in her words.

You raised your hands slightly in surrender. “Hey—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious. I’ll give you some space. You didn’t wait for her response. Instead, you grabbed your phone and slipped out of the dorm room, gently closing the door behind you.

Back inside, Sophia stood frozen for a moment, staring at the door. Then she slowly walked to her bed and collapsed onto it.

Why did I snap like that?

Sophia didn’t know want came over. It wasn’t like her to just snap at someone with just a simple question. She didn’t even know you, and yet she reacted like you were trying to hurt her. It wasn’t a hard question. It wasn’t meant to cut deep. But still, her chest felt tight, like her past was a wound that hasn't healed yet—and you just touched it without knowing.

She didn’t mean to drive you away. But she didn’t know how to be close to anyone anymore. Not after what happened.

Not after what it cost her.

The night grew quiet. Hours passed. The other dorms dimmed their lights. Sophia remained on her bed, back turned toward your empty one. She figured you’d decided to crash at a friend’s room—or maybe you decided to ask for a room reassignment already.

But then the door creaked open.

It was soft—barely a sound.

She heard the light shuffle of shoes across the wooden floor. Someone tiptoeing. Trying not to be noticed.

“You know I’m still awake, right?” Sophia said into the dim light.

You froze mid-step and chuckled awkwardly, turning toward her bed.

“Of course I know that,” you said, giving her a sheepish smile.

Sophia reached over and switched on her side lamp. The room glowed a warm yellow, and she finally got a good look at you—your clothes were all wrinkled and dirtied up, Sweat beaded on your forehead, and your breathing was a little off.

She blinked. “Where were you? And why the hell do you look like that?”

You gave her a crooked grin, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Well... I might’ve pulled a prank on one of the teachers. And then I ran for my life. So, you know—standard Wednesday.” you said.

Sophia stared at you.

Yup.

Troublemaker.

Just her luck.

Even if it’s Sophia’s first day here she knew you were a trouble maker. Exactly the kind of person she didn’t want to be near—not anymore. Not after what that kind of recklessness cost her. The room fell into another silence. You stood awkwardly near your bed, sensing the tension again.

Sophia wanted to say something. To apologize. To tell you she didn’t mean to be so cold earlier.

But the words caught in her throat.

So before things got weirder, you broke the moment and quietly headed to the bathroom to shower and change. Sophia watched you walk away, her eyes lingering on the empty space you left behind.

She shook her head, turned off her lamp, and laid down again.

This was going to be a long year.

Sophia’s first day at her new school was…a disaster.

From the moment she stepped outside the dorms, she felt like she’d been thrown into a maze with no map, no clue, and no escape. The hallways all looked the same—endless rows of classrooms with strange numbering systems. She clutched her schedule tightly, her knuckles pale, trying to make sense of where she was supposed to be.

Room 3C-205.

Where on earth was that?

She turned another corner, only to end up back where she started. Again. She wandered aimlessly through the school hallways, clutching her crumpled schedule in one hand, eyes darting from one door to the next. Her steps grew faster, more frantic. Everything felt too big, too wide, too overwhelming. The buildings stretched endlessly, and every hallway looked the same. She kept circling back to where she started, like some cruel joke the school was playing on her. Her frustration simmered in her chest, threatening to spill over.

Hindi ko na ‘to kaya. (i can’t do this anymore)

She wanted to ask someone for directions, but the halls were empty. Not a single soul in sight. Just the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the echo of her own footsteps. Her chest tightened. She was lost. Late. And already exhausted—and it wasn’t even noon.

Eventually, she gave up and dragged herself outside. She found a shady spot under one of the large trees near the campus center and sat down heavily, hugging her bag to her chest. The breeze offered a little comfort, but not enough to wash away the growing frustration in her chest. She stared at her room assignments again, but the list may as well have been in another language. Nothing made sense.

She was on the verge of giving up when a familiar voice cut through the silence.

"Are you cutting classes on your first day, Ms. Laforteza?"

It was you.

There you were—Wearing the same uniform, with your shirt slightly untucked like you didn’t really care, your backpack carelessly slung over one shoulder, grinning like the universe decided Sophia needed just one more thing to deal with. She let out an annoyed huff, not even trying to hide the exasperation on her face.

Of course, it had to be you.

She narrowed her eyes on you. “You have too much free time.”

“You’re not happy to see me, roomie?” you asked, tilting your head and giving her that mock-sad expression. She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath, refusing to meet your gaze. Her eyes stayed glued to her schedule, as if staring at it long enough would suddenly reveal the answer she needed.

"You know," you said, peering over her shoulder, "with that attitude, I might just leave you here."

"I’m not stopping you."

"Oof. Ice cold, Laforteza."

She sighed again and looked down at her schedule. The letters swam in front of her eyes. Maybe she was stupid for thinking she could handle this on her own.

You leaned in a little, reading her paper. “Ahh. 3C-205. That’s on the other side of campus.”

She groaned. “Of course it is.”

“But lucky for you…” you said, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off your pants, “I know a shortcut.”

She side-eyed you. "Are you seriously gonna help me, or are you just planning to lead me to some broom closet as a prank?"

You clutched your chest in mock offense. “Wow. I do not do that to my fellow schoolmates. I’m offended.”

Sophia gave you a suspicious look and didn’t answer, then sighed—long and deep. She already knew she was absent for her first class, and now she was stuck talking to you. What a great start.

You gasped, mock-offended. “Wow. Is that what you think of me?”

She didn’t answer, just stared at you, clearly unconvinced.

"Okay, fair. But I promise this time I’m actually being helpful," you said, grinning.

You held out your hand to her. She looked at your hand, then up at your face. For a second, she hesitated. Her pride whispered don’t—but eventually, she took it. Your fingers were warm against hers, steady. Solid. Something she really needed right now.

“C’mon. I’ll take you there.” you told her.

Sophia looked at you with hopeful eyes. She slung her bag over her shoulder and followed you, her steps small and unsure. Like a lost puppy, trailing behind the one person who seemed to know where to go.

The walk was long, winding through corners and stairwells she wouldn’t have dared explore alone. You walked ahead but always looked back, slowing down when she lagged behind, throwing in jokes every now and then to try and get a reaction out of her. Finally, you both arrived at her classroom. She peeked inside, ready for the worst—but to her relief, she was excused for being late.

You turned to her with a lopsided grin. “I’ll wait for you here later, okay? I’ll walk you to your next class.”

She blinked, surprised. “Seriously?”

You nodded. “Seriously.”

For the first time that day, she smiled—just a little—and gave you a quiet “thank you.”

As she slid into her seat and watched you walk away, she let out a small sigh, her shoulders finally relaxing.

Maybe…you weren’t so bad after all.

It had been like that for the past few weeks—an unspoken routine forming between you and Sophia. Every day after class, you’d walk her to her assigned room before dashing off to yours. You didn’t mind being late. Not if it meant making sure she got there safely. Not if it meant giving her a small sense of comfort in a place that once felt just as suffocating to you.

You weren’t trying to be a hero. You just didn’t want her to feel what you did on your first few days here—alone, overwhelmed, and quietly drowning in the noise of unfamiliar walls. You weren’t just a troublemaker. You weren’t just some nosy roommate. You wanted her to know that she wasn’t invisible. Not to you.

When the bell rang, the hallways flooded with students. You stood outside her classroom, eyes darting left and right, searching for the Filipina and once you saw her your whole face lit up,

“Soph!” You called out, eyes lighting up like they always did when you saw her. You waved like a maniac, grinning so wide your cheeks ached.

Sophia let out a long-suffering sigh and rolled her eyes, clearly mortified. “Grabe ka,” she muttered, especially when she noticed a few students turning to look at her with amused expressions and questioning looks.

She stalked over to you, arms crossed. “What do you want?”

You smirked, hands in your pockets like you weren’t dying to see her all day. “Thought you needed some company on the way to the dorms. You know, in case you get lost again.”

She scoffed, smacking your shoulder lightly with a rolled-up test paper. “You’re so funny, no?” she said dryly. “And it was one time, okay?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you at the memory.

That “one time” had been right before the midterm quizzes. the two of you went on separate ways to review for the upcoming quizzes–you were in the dorm and she was in the library. It was currently 9pm, lights-out approaching fast, but Sophia still hadn’t come back. Concerned, you grabbed a hoodie and headed out to find her.

First, you checked the library. Nothing. Then under the big tree near the garden. Still no sign. Just when you were about to give up and report her missing to the dorm head, you spotted someone speed walking around the hallway, books clutched tight against their chest, hair messed up, And there it was—that familiar keychain dangling from a backpack.

‘Sophia!” you yelled, relief washing over you like a wave.

She turned, eyes wide and dazed. “Oh my God,” she whispered, jogging up to you. Her voice was groggy, like she’d just woken up.

“Where the fuck are you going?” you asked, grabbing her books before they tumbled from her hands.

“I-I actually don’t know. I feel like I’m still asleep,” she mumbled, and you let out a soft laugh, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and steering her back.

“Stupid,” you teased, bumping your shoulder against hers. “You probably just drooled on your notes and passed out.”

“Excuse me!” she protested, pinching your side as you both laughed. “I reviewed, okay? I just… maybe fell asleep after,” she grumbled, cheeks pink.

You teased her the entire walk back, and she rolled her eyes so much you swore they’d get stuck. But you noticed it—that tiny smile she tried to hide. The way her footsteps fell in sync with yours. The way her voice softened just a little when she said your name.

Since then, Sophia had started opening up, piece by piece. She still had walls, of course. Tall ones. But there were cracks now, and you were careful with every step, not wanting to push too hard. She wasn’t as snappy as she used to be, though she still threw in an eye-roll or sarcastic jab now and then—like muscle memory.

You didn’t mind. That was her way of saying she was comfortable. That she trusted you enough to be herself.

Sometimes, she’d lean against your shoulder when you both sat on the dorm hallway floor, eating snacks you smuggled from the cafeteria. Sometimes, she’d quietly slip you a candy bar in class when she noticed you skipping breakfast again. Sometimes, she’d just be there—without needing to say anything.

And those moments? Those moments meant everything.

She was still guarded. Still afraid to go through what she went through in her last school. You didn’t ask what happened—you figured she’d tell you when she was ready. But you could see it in her eyes, in the way she hesitated to let people in.

So you waited. You stayed. And you walked her to her room every day like it was your religion.

Because she wasn’t just a roommate anymore.

She was Sophia.

And you were starting to care more than you were ready to admit.

The next day brought heavy rain, the kind that drowned out every other sound, like the world was trying to quiet itself down. You and Sophia had Botany together—same class, same schedule. That’s why the two of you found yourselves in the greenhouse earlier than usual, the warm scent of soil and leaves wrapping around you like a blanket.

It wasn’t raining when you first got there. The sky was overcast, sure, but calm. You were both flipping through your notebooks, talking about anything but Botany. Then the rain started. First, just a soft drizzle tapping on the glass above you. Then it turned angry—loud, relentless, with thunder rolling in like a war drum.

The first crack of lightning didn’t faze you. But Sophia? She flinched. You saw it out of the corner of your eye—how her shoulders jumped, how her grip on her pen tightened.

You snorted. “Seriously? You’re scared of lightning?”

Another rumble followed, louder this time, and Sophia slowly stepped closer. Without saying anything, she grabbed your arm.

“Really? And You’re scared of thunder?” you teased, a grin playing on your lips.

She pinched your side in response. “Oh shut up, it’s a scary sound,” she muttered, just before another flash lit up the sky. She ducked again, covering her ears tightly, her eyes squeezing shut like it would make the noise go away.

You couldn’t help but soften. She looked so out of place—this composed, intimidating Laforteza, suddenly reduced to a girl hiding from the storm.

Rain started to pour heavier, the kind that seeps into your bones and drenches you no matter where you stand. “Let’s go, we’ll get sick if we don’t retreat,” you said, pulling her towards a covered part of the greenhouse.

She didn’t argue, just grabbed her things and followed you. But it was too late—your clothes were soaked through, notebooks dripping, your shoes squelching with every step. Even your phones weren't spared.

You spotted a small lost and found box near an old bookshelf, and rummaged through it like it held treasure. Jackpot: a used sweater, some pants, and a worn-out shirt. You tossed the shirt at her first.

“Dry yourself off first. Then change into these,” you said, holding out the sweater and pants.

She gave you a look. A very unimpressed one. “I’m not wearing used pants and a sweater that probably smells like a stranger,” she said, eyebrows raised.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, would you rather get sick and miss your perfect attendance award?” you replied with mock seriousness.

She glared but snatched the clothes from your hand anyway, muttering under her breath. Luckily, the greenhouse had foggy windows and was far enough from campus. She turned her back, started changing, and after a minute said, “Okay na.”

You turned—and instantly burst into a laugh. The sweater was way too big, the pants comically short.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she grumbled, scratching at the sweater's collar.

“I’m not,” you said, lifting your phone and snapping a quick photo when she wasn’t looking. You tucked it away with a grin. You’d keep that one forever.

It took a couple of hours before the rain finally stopped. You both ran back toward the dorms, feet splashing in puddles, laughing in between shivers. Your teeth were already chattering when you reached your room.

“You’re already shivering. You should’ve used the sweater,” she said, helping you onto your bed, concerning replacing her usual smug expression.

Sophia, now back in her usual uniform, grabbed a warm towel, a bottle of water, and some medicine from your drawer. She moved like she’d done this before, like taking care of someone came naturally.

“If I knew you get sick this easily, I would’ve let you take the damn clothes,” she said, handing you the medicine with a frown.

You gave her a cheeky grin. “If I told you, you wouldn’t have taken the clothes,” you said, then coughed right after.

She rolled her eyes at you, but you could see the smile she was fighting at the corners of her lips.

She glanced at the time, then looked back at you. “Go to your next class,” you told her, waving her off weakly. “I can take care of myself.”

But she just shook her head. “I'm not going anywhere,” she said softly, sitting down at the edge of your bed. Then, without warning, she slipped under the covers beside you.

“I know you wouldn’t leave me either if I got sick,” she added, her voice even quieter this time.

And that was it. The rest of the night passed in warmth, in quiet coughs and soft laughter. You teased her about the sweater again. She told you to shut up—again—but didn't stop smiling.

It wasn’t much. Just a storm, just wet clothes and shared medicine. But somehow, it felt like a shift. Like something between you two had quietly changed, and neither of you wanted to name it yet.

It was Saturday Night, No Homeworks. No Projects.

It was a quiet night for the two of you—or at least, it should’ve been quiet. For Sophia, it was. But not for you, not when your ears were full of sound—random OPM tracks playing one after another, all from the playlist Sophia made and swore you’d love if you just gave it a chance. You had your headphones on, slightly bobbing your head as your fingers danced through your playlist, cleaning it up and curating a new one at the same time.

Beside you, Sophia sat with her legs curled up, her attention focused on a book you lent her. Something you swore she’d like the same way she swore you’d like the songs. Every now and then, her eyes would skim the words, but you—unknowingly—were stealing some of that focus away. You were beside her, completely in your own world, your fingers lightly tapping the air like you were playing invisible drums, caught up in the beat. No care in the world. Just you and the music.

At first, Sophia didn’t mind. She barely noticed. But when your air-drumming got a little more enthusiastic, she finally glanced your way—and what she saw made her softly laugh under her breath. You didn’t hear it. You were too far gone in whatever song was playing. She shook her head a little, amused. You looked ridiculous.

And yet…adorable.

She couldn’t believe you were actually into the songs. I mean, you of all people? The same person who said, “What’s this? I won’t even understand the song, so what's the point?” The same person who swore she wouldn’t even last a single track. But then Sophia gave you that look—those soft, half-pleading eyes that were impossible to say no to—and you sighed, giving in with a grumbled, "Fine. One song only."

But one song became two. Then three. Then an entire night of scrolling, downloading, organizing. Somehow, the lyrics—even the ones you didn’t understand—still found a way to hit you somewhere deep. It was weird, but in a good way. You didn’t question it too much. You just… felt it.

From her side of the bed, Sophia watched you, head tilted slightly, book forgotten on her lap. You looked absolutely ridiculous with the air drumming and the small, almost imperceptible smile on your face, but there was something about you—something—that made her heart feel like it was flipping over and over in her chest.

Ano ba ‘to? she thought to herself, her brows furrowing slightly. She had never felt this before. This strange, giddy, stupidly warm feeling in her chest. And maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was that shallow.

But maybe it wasn’t.

She didn’t realize she’d been staring too long until you turned, pulled your headphones off, and raised your eyebrows at her.

“What?” you asked, your voice slightly louder than usual, still half in that echoing world of music.

Sophia blinked, caught red-handed, and immediately looked back down at the book. “Wala,” she muttered, flipping a page she hadn’t read. “You looked like a crazy person kanina.”

She said it casually, but the way her cheeks turned this soft, subtle shade of pink betrayed her completely.

You didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at her. And maybe, just maybe, you smiled a little too.

Sophia thought she was finally free. She really believed she had escaped the eyes that were always watching. The eyes that followed her every move, judged her every choice, and kept her from living the way she wanted to. To the outside world, she had everything—status, a name, a life people admired. But no one really understood how suffocating it was to live under that kind of pressure.

When she transferred to this school, she thought things would be different. That the weight she carried would finally lift. That she could finally just… exist. No one criticizing her. No one controlling her. For the first time, she hoped she could live without tiptoeing around expectations.

But she thought wrong.

Every move she made. Every breath she took. Every word she said—still found its way back to her parents. As if the walls could talk. As if even the trees were whispering about her.

Sophia knew she had to be careful. Especially when she got that text message from her mom. It was just a short one, sent while the two of you were laughing about something silly out in the courtyard. A warning, hidden beneath the usual “we’re just concerned.” A subtle reminder to watch who she was spending time with. You glanced at her and teased, “What’s that? Your boyfriend?” And she just laughed, shaking her head, putting her phone back into her pocket. She didn’t even reply.

She thought it was the same old thing again. Her mom being protective. A little paranoid. Maybe it was about what had happened before—something Sophia didn’t like talking about. But this time felt different. This time, it felt like someone really was watching.

Another message came later, when the two of you were lying under the old tree near the gym. The breeze rustled softly through the branches above, everything felt still. Peaceful. She opened her phone, and there it was—cold, sharp, and unapologetic: “You’re there to be a proper young lady, not to run around with girls who act like boys and confuse friendship with something else.”

She stared at the screen for a long time.

Confused. Hurt. A little angry.

Her eyes swept over the area, suddenly aware of every corner. Her heart started to race. Was someone watching them? Reporting back to her parents? She scanned the hallways, the benches, the windows—anyone. Anything. But all she saw was you, looking at her with worry, your hand reaching for her arm gently.

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly.

She nodded, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. There was worry written all over her face, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

Still, she didn’t reply to the message.

She turned her phone on Do Not Disturb and shoved it deep into her bag. She didn’t want to deal with it. Not now. Not when she was finally starting to feel safe. Not when she was finally starting to feel something real.

She told herself it was just her mom’s instincts again. The same overprotective habits that had kept her locked up for so long. Always controlling. Always expecting the worst.

But deep down, something tugged at her.

Because what if it wasn’t just instinct this time? What if someone really was watching?

It was a week before midterms, and Sophia had been tearing herself apart trying to keep up. Every time you saw her, she either had her head buried in a book or was passed out from exhaustion. She’s not resting anymore. You couldn’t even remember the last time you saw her smile, much less eat at the cafeteria with everyone else.

Lately, you only saw her during class or in your shared dorm room, and even then, her presence felt like a ghost passing through. She barely spoke, barely looked up. The Sophia you knew—soft-spoken but warm, sharp but gentle—was slipping through the cracks.

You were worried. And more than that, you missed her.

So you came up with a plan.

Something simple, something quiet. Something that felt like her.

You set up a picnic blanket in one of the school’s hidden spots—an old greenhouse behind the art building that hardly anyone went to anymore. It was where you always went when everything started feeling too loud. A place that reminded you to breathe.

You brought her favorite snacks, those little sweet things she liked to sneak during study sessions. You set up your portable speaker with a playlist she once said made her feel like the world paused for a moment. A few small fairy lights too, just enough to soften the shadows.

Everything was ready.

You waited in your dorm room, pacing just a bit. It was close to lights out, and you were hoping no one would notice the two of you slipping away. It wasn’t a big deal, but if someone found out, you knew Sophia’s parents would hear about it.

The door creaked open.

Sophia walked in, looking like she was about to fall apart. Her eyes were rimmed with fatigue, dark circles beneath them, and her skin was pale under the dorm's dull lighting. Her arms were full of books, heavy like the weight she carried on her shoulders.

You stood up quickly, walking over to help her unload her things onto her desk. You saw the way her lips barely moved, how her body swayed like she might collapse if she stopped moving.

You hesitated.

Maybe she needed rest more than anything. Maybe you were being selfish. What if all she wanted was to sleep?

You stood there for a second too long, unsure of what to say.

Sophia tilted her head, concern in her eyes. “Hey? You okay there? I kinda lost you for a second.”

You hadn’t even realized she was talking. She was telling you how drained she was—how she already felt defeated before the exams even started. You nodded slowly, steadying your voice.

“Soph,” you started, careful, quiet. “Do you want to go somewhere? Just… a place to breathe for a bit?”

She blinked at you, confused. “What? Where exactly?”

You explained softly—that it was a spot you found during your first week, when everything was overwhelming and nothing felt safe. You told her it became your haven, the one place that didn’t feel like the walls were closing in.

She looked at you for a moment, her eyes softening, until she glanced at the clock.

“How are we even going to get there? It’s already lights out,” she said.

“We have to sneak out.”

That’s when something shifted.

You didn’t know what changed, but you felt it. The air in the room got heavier, like a storm waiting to break. Sophia stepped back slightly, her expression faltering.

Her voice was lower now. “I…I don’t think I can do that again.”

You didn’t push. You waited.

She sat down on the edge of her bed, staring at her hands. “The last time I snuck out, things got bad. I got caught. I got in trouble. And worse…I was left alone. They left me. I don’t want to be left again.”

Her voice cracked on the last word.

You crouched down in front of her, gently placing your hand over hers. “You won’t be,” you said, quietly but firmly. “I’m not going to leave you, Sophia. And I’m not going to get you in trouble. We’ll be careful. I promise.”

There was silence for a while.

And then—she nodded.

The two of you slipped out of the dorms, careful with your steps and breathless with the quiet thrill of it all. You led her through the school grounds, down the path you knew by heart. When you reached the spot, you watched her eyes take in everything.

The picnic blanket spread out with soft pillows. The warm glow of fairy lights. A few potted plants lining the edges. The stars above, clearly visible through the glass ceiling of the old greenhouse, glittering like they were waiting for the two of you.

Sophia stepped into the space slowly, as if afraid it would disappear if she moved too fast.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, almost in a whisper.

You sat down beside her, offering her food, and for the first time in days, you heard her laugh. It was quiet and tired, but real.

You didn’t talk about exams. Not once.

Eventually, when the silence settled between you comfortably, you found yourself speaking.

You told her how you ended up in this school—how you had your own past you didn’t like to revisit. How being left alone wasn’t just something you hated, it was something that haunted you. That sometimes, even when people said goodbye, the echo of their absence stayed louder than anything else.

She looked at you, eyes soft and a little glassy. “I’m sorry,” she said, taking a deep breath. “For what happened to you.”

Then she told you her story—not all of it, not yet, but enough. Enough to understand the girl behind the silence. The pressure. The rules. The fear of being seen and punished for simply trying to live.

The quiet stretched between you again, not heavy, but calm.

After a while, you stood up and reached out your hand to her, smiling just a little. “Dance with me?”

Sophia looked up at you, a little caught off guard. “Now?”

“I’ve never gotten to dance with someone at prom,” you said. “And you look like you owe yourself a moment like this.”

As cliché as it was, she took your hand. And under the stars, with music playing low and the world stripped of its noise, the two of you danced. No big moves, no twirls, just quiet steps and held gazes. Just closeness.

Just presence.

The test results were finally out, and Sophia felt like she was drowning in her own thoughts. Her chest was tight, her palms cold, and her stomach in knots. Anxiety clung to her like a second skin, and no matter how much she tried to focus, her mind kept spiraling. What if I failed? What if I messed this up? What if they make me transfer schools again because of one stupid score?

When the paper was handed to her, she couldn’t bring herself to open it at first. Her fingers trembled slightly as she held onto the folded test sheet like it held her fate. She inhaled deeply, a silent prayer running through her mind—please, please don’t let it be bad.

And then, with hesitant hands, she opened it.

90%.

A breath escaped her lips. Relief washed over her like a wave, and for a moment, she felt the weight lift. It was the score she hoped for—enough to make herself proud. Maybe even enough to show her parents she was trying.

With a flicker of hope, Sophia decided she’d call them. She wanted to share this moment, to tell them she was doing fine, maybe even hear them say they were proud of her. As the bell rang and the halls flooded with chatter, she made her way quickly back to the dorm.

The room was empty. You weren’t there. Perfect timing.

She sat on her bed and dialed, her heart still fluttering with a mix of nerves and excitement. The phone rang once… twice… then someone picked up.

“Hi, Ma! Hi, Pa!” she greeted, her voice bright, her tone warm and upbeat.

Her parents, sensing the joy in her tone, matched her energy—or at least tried to. “I just wanted to update you… things are going okay. My roommate’s actually really cool, and I got a 90 on my midterm—”

A long pause. Her mother’s voice cut through, sharp and cold.

“A 90?”

Sophia blinked. “Yeah. I know it’s not perfect, but I’ve been studying really hard and—”

Her mother didn’t let her finish.

“Ninety? That’s it? You call that improvement? You’re in college now, Sophia. Bakit parang high school level parin ang mga grades mo?”

Sophia’s smile faltered. Her hand clenched the phone tighter.

“If you keep getting scores like that, don’t bother coming home. Do you hear me?” her mother snapped. “We will disown you. I didn’t raise you for this kind of mediocrity.”

Sophia tried to respond, her lips parting to explain, to say something, anything— “And your roommate,” her mother added, her tone laced with disgust. “Stay away from her.”

“What?”

“She’s not someone you should be around. I don’t care if she’s nice or if she helps you study. She’s a bad influence. Do you even know what kind of person she is? Don’t you know she’s a sinner? You think that’s someone you should trust?”

Sophia’s heart stopped. She couldn't find her voice.

“You're so easily swayed. This is why you're falling behind. Focus on your future, not... her.”

Before she could respond, the line went dead.

Sophia sat there, staring into nothing, phone still to her ear, the silence on the other end louder than anything. Her throat burned. Her hands were cold. The silence in the room grew heavier with each passing second. Her chest tightened again, but this time, not from anxiety—this was hurt. A deep, twisting hurt that made her feel so small.

They didn’t even ask if she was okay.

Tears welled up in her eyes before she could even try to stop them. She curled up on her bed and cried into the pillow, trying to smother the sound of her sobs. She was supposed to meet you for lunch—but now she didn’t even want to leave the room.

The ache in her chest was too much. Her appetite was gone. She stayed curled up under the blanket, her mind replaying the words over and over again. Not enough. Disown. Sinner.

She cried—quiet at first, then louder as everything she had buried started to surface.

She didn’t hear the door open.

“Sophia?”

Her heart skipped. She quickly wiped her tears, sat up, and tried to compose herself, but it was too late.

There you were, standing at the doorway with a tray full of snacks and drinks, grinning—until you saw her face.

Your smile disappeared. You rushed over, leaving the tray on your bed.

“Hey… hey, what happened?” you asked, kneeling beside her.

Sophia just shook her head, eyes cast down. Her lips trembled. She didn’t want to cry in front of you. She never did. She was supposed to be composed, in control. Crying felt like weakness—and weakness was never allowed in her house growing up.

You glanced at her bed: messy books, a crumpled test paper, used tissues, her phone.

“Mahal…” you said softly, reaching for her hand and brushing her hair away from her damp cheeks. “Tell me what happened.”

She tried to hold it in, but the moment you touched her, the dam broke.

“M-my mom… she said my grades weren’t enough,” she whispered, voice cracking, eyes filled with shame.

You nodded gently, encouraging her to let it out, your fingers weaving through her hair as you pulled her close. Her head rested on your chest, and she clung to you like she might fall apart if she let go.

“She said I was useless,” she sobbed, “and if I ever get grades like this again…they’ll disown me.”

Her whole body shook as the words left her mouth. Her tears soaked through your shirt, and her voice—raw, trembling, barely a whisper—was filled with years of hurt she never allowed herself to speak aloud.

You held her tighter.

“Y/n… I don’t want to be disowned,” she said between sobs. “I don’t want to be alone…”

You cupped her face gently, wiping away her tears with your thumbs. “Ssshh… look at me, mahal.” She did, eyes red and swollen. “No one will disown you. And no one—no one—will ever leave you. Not on my watch, okay?”

Sophia leaned back into your arms, letting you wrap her in warmth. You kissed the top of her head softly, your hand rubbing gentle circles on her back.

She never knew comfort like this—only from her younger brother, and even that felt like a secret she wasn’t allowed to need. But here, in your arms, the world was quiet. The pressure, the expectations, the fear… all of it faded.

And for the first time, Sophia felt like she wasn’t just surviving—she was seen.

She didn’t say anything more after that. She didn’t have to. Her head stayed against your chest, your heartbeat grounding her, anchoring her to the present. You stayed like that for a long time, letting the silence be soft and healing.

Then, almost hesitantly, her fingers reached out for the snack tray you brought. She sniffled.

“What… what did you get?” she asked, her voice hoarse but trying to sound normal again.

You smiled, relieved. “Chocolate cake. Milk tea. Your favorites. I had to bribe the vending machine and practically threaten the lady at the bakery to get the last slice.”

A tired laugh slipped out of her—small and shaky, but real. “You’re too nice to me.”

“I’d fight the world for you,” you whispered, serious now. “And your mom, if she keeps talking like that.”

Sophia didn’t respond. She just tucked her head back into your chest, like maybe if she stayed there long enough, the rest of the world would fade.

And for now, that was enough.

Sophia didn’t listen to her mother—not this time. She didn’t stay away from you, and honestly? She didn’t want to. You had already become her safe place, her calm in the chaos that surrounded her every day. For the second time in her life, she defied the rules her parents raised her on. She knew the risks—especially with the eyes her parents kept planted in the school halls—but she didn’t care. Not when it came to you.

The two of you hadn’t even defined what you were to each other. No labels. No promises. Just this unspoken understanding that your feelings were real and blooming quietly in stolen glances and whispered conversations. You were both in no rush to name it—whatever it was. You simply existed together in a kind of sacred secrecy.

Because this school, this Catholic school, didn’t allow space for love like yours.

So everything you did was hidden. Holding hands beneath the cafeteria table. Kissing softly behind the chapel when no one was looking. Cuddling in quiet corners of the library. Every touch had to be calculated. Every look had to be careful.

At first, you didn’t mind the secrecy. You were here because of that again. Your parents had sent you off to this place hoping to “fix” you. Turn you into the perfect straight daughter with impeccable discipline and proper behavior. But somehow, they thought an all-girls school was the answer—which only confirmed how little they actually knew you.

You didn’t expect to find someone like Sophia. Honestly, you thought she was going to be one of those girls—too proper, too soft-spoken, probably a little too perfect. Her family was known, her life looked polished from the outside, and her vibe screamed stay away. Everything about her felt opposite to you. Her clothes, her posture, her carefully measured smiles. And still, she drew you in.

It started small. That first day, she was totally lost, clutching a schedule and scanning the hallway numbers like they were a puzzle. You spotted her from down the hall, looking hilariously confused, and you could’ve helped right away—but you didn’t. Not yet. You pretended you had a different class just to peel off and loop back around later so it looked more casual. You wanted to help, but you didn’t want to seem like you cared. Not too much.

Then there was the cafeteria. She sat alone at lunch, stiff and guarded, picking at her food like it was some chore. Most girls avoided her—maybe it was her resting don’t talk to me face, or maybe they were just intimidated by the last name she carried. But you didn’t care. You sat across from her anyway, not asking for anything, just existing there until she realized you weren’t a threat.

From then on, it built slowly—like music with no beat drop, just a gradual rise in volume until you realized it was surrounding you.

You learned about her little by little. Her favorite snacks. Her weird pet peeves. The way she liked her books organized by color instead of author. How her parents expected her to be this picture-perfect daughter, and how she never really got the chance to feel things on her own terms. You saw the weight she carried—how exhausting it must be to be so controlled, to be so watched all the time. She wasn’t just some rich girl with rules. She was someone who never got to breathe without someone else telling her how.

And God, did you want to protect her from all of it.

You didn’t realize you were falling until it was already happening. It wasn’t some movie moment with swelling violins and fireworks. It was a Tuesday. She was wearing your oversized hoodie, curled up in your bed with the book you recommended, and between her soft humming and the occasional Tagalog lessons she mumbled into your arm, you felt it—the quiet click of something inside you shifting.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t even loud.

It was just real.

You started noticing the way she’d lean into you when you were alone, how she’d blush a little whenever you called her something stupidly sweet like sunshine or cutie. She never asked you to stop, even when her cheeks turned red. And when you hung out in secret spots around campus, she’d sit closer. Her fingers would linger. Her eyes would stay on you a little longer than before.

But the moment everything changed?

It was that night in the library.

You found her sitting cross-legged on the floor between two shelves, lost in a novel, lips slightly parted as her eyes scanned the pages like they were secrets. You sat beside her quietly, pretending to read your own book. It was quiet, almost too quiet, so you nudged her. She barely looked up, and when she did, it was only for a second before she returned to her pages.

So you did what anyone would do—you stole her book. She gasped, playful fire in her eyes, and tried to snatch it back. You grinned and told her to follow you to the back where the bean bags were, promising it’d be more comfortable.

She followed.

You both sank into the cushions, backs to the wall, legs stretched out. She slid down until her head was resting on your thigh, your fingers casually playing with the ends of her hair while you read aloud a line or two just to annoy her. Eventually, she gave up on reading and just watched you instead.

You didn’t notice until she sighed—soft and tired.

You looked down, and there she was, her dark brown eyes fixed on you. You set the book aside.

“What?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

She shrugged.

You rolled your eyes. “Use your words, Laforteza.”

But she didn’t answer. Instead, her fingers reached up to trace the faint scar on your eyebrow. Her touch was featherlight, sending chills down your spine.

“It was a stupid accident,” you said, not wanting to get into the whole story about the nuns and your endless list of detentions.

She didn’t laugh. Just kept tracing.

The air felt thick. Too heavy. Too still. You both leaned in, instinctively. Slow, cautious, breath held between the inches of space.

And then—buzz buzz buzz. Her phone.

You both flinched.

She answered it, reluctantly, standing up with a quiet “Sorry.”

But after that night, it was like something shifted.

You didn’t talk about it. Not exactly. But everything between you got... softer. Closer. Sweeter.

She’d rest her head on your shoulder during study hours. You’d sneak snacks into her room on bad days. She started wearing your clothes more often. You started leaving little sticky notes in her books with dumb doodles and inside jokes. You called her mi amore just to see her blush, and she called you makulit like it was the most affectionate word in the world.

And maybe you weren’t officially anything yet. Maybe you were still hiding in quiet corners and exchanging secret smiles in crowded halls.

But you knew.

She was yours.

And you were hers.

Even if the world wasn’t ready.

The next day, you woke up earlier than usual. You didn’t even bother fixing your hair or ironing your uniform perfectly—your focus was set. Today was Sophia’s birthday. You wanted to make it special. Even if the school didn’t allow celebrations, even if it meant breaking the rules again, you didn’t care. You had snuck in a small cupcake the night before, tucked away in your drawer, along with a candle you stole from the chapel's supply room. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Today was also the day you planned to ask her—to finally ask Sophia to be your girlfriend. You rehearsed what to say in your head a hundred times over. You were going to tell her you loved her. You were ready.

But before anything could happen, your name echoed through the entire school from the PA system.

“Y/N, to the directress' office. Immediately.”

The cupcake in your hands felt heavier all of a sudden. You looked at it one last time before placing it gently on the desk. You didn’t want to get into more trouble than you already were, so you took a deep breath and headed to the office.

When you stepped inside, the air changed.

Nuns surrounded the room like shadows, silent and still, their eyes sharp and unreadable. And there, in the middle, stood Reverend Mother. Her face was stone. No one said a word. Not until she slowly walked up to you.

You opened your mouth to ask what was going on, but you didn’t even get the chance.

Smack!

Your head snapped to the side. A sting bloomed on your cheek, and your knees buckled from shock more than the pain. Before you could react, her hand raised again—

Smack!

Another blow. And another. You didn’t know how many. You didn’t even know why. You just found yourself on the floor, trembling, hands pressed against the cold tiles, the copper taste of blood blooming on your lip. Your cheek throbbed. The nuns remained still, judgmental eyes digging into your skin.

“You are a disgrace!” the Reverend Mother shouted. “Do you even know how many sins you’ve committed?”

You looked up at her through tears. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t even understand what exactly you were being punished for—at least not out loud.

“You turned a pure, innocent girl into a sinner. You are a disgrace to humanity.”

“I love her,” you choked out. “I did not turn her into a sinner, because i don’t think it was a sin”

Your voice trembled, but you kept going. “It’s not wrong to love someone—even if they’re the same gender. So i-i don’t think it was a sin, because it didn’t feel like a sin. it felt like it was too supposed to be feel” They just stared at you like you were crazy.

Then another slap.

“You don’t speak that way,” she said coldly. “You will be punished for your actions. But for now, you are dismissed.”

She paused at the door and added, “And as for Ms. Laforteza… don’t even think about contacting her. I have a separate punishment in store for that girl.”

You ran back to the dorms with blood on your lip and shame pooling in your chest. You cleaned yourself up the best you could, dabbing at your swollen cheek with a damp towel. You avoided your reflection. You didn’t want to see what they did to you. You didn’t want to see yourself right now.

You lit the candle on the cupcake just in time. When you heard the door open, you stood up fast, trying to hold it all together. Sophia stepped inside—and froze.

You sang anyway, voice shaky, but soft.

Happy birthday to you...

She blew out the candle, and you walked up to her. You saw her glance at your face, about to ask what happened—but then her phone rang.

She tensed. You caught a glimpse of the caller ID.

“Mama.”

She hesitated. Then stepped outside to take the call. You stood there alone, hands still warm from the candle. Heart already cold.

A few minutes passed.

Then you followed her.

The hallway was completely silent—the kind of silence that echoed with every breath. You didn’t know where she went. You didn’t know what you were expecting. But then you heard your footsteps fall down the stairs, fast and heavy.

And there she was.

Sophia Laforteza. Leaning against the wall, phone still glowing in her hand. Like she hadn’t moved in minutes. Her eyes met yours, and—God—you hated that she was crying again. Always crying because of her.

You ran to her and pulled her into a hug. You held her close, your bruised cheek brushing hers.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “I’m here. We’ll get through this. Together.”

But she didn’t hug you back.

You pulled away slightly. “What happened? What did she say?”

Sophia looked down, her voice small. “She said… she’s giving me one last warning. If I don’t stay away from you, she’s pulling me out. Right away.”

You waited.

You waited for her to say she told her mom that she didn’t care. That she loved you. That she was going to fight for you.

But she didn’t.

“I told her I’d stay away.”

And just like that, something cracked inside you.

“I don’t want to transfer schools again. I can’t.”

You stared at her.

“I fought for us,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “I got dragged into the directress’s office. I got slapped. Humiliated. I bled. I told them I loved you.”

She didn’t move. Her tears betrayed her, but she didn’t speak.

“And you—you just accepted what your mother said? Just like that? Without even thinking? Like a coward?”

Her tears fell faster, but still—silence.

“You do have a choice, Laforteza. You could’ve shown them that I matter to you. That this,” you gestured between you two, “means something. That loving each other isn’t wrong.”

You took a shaky breath. “But I guess… I was the only one who thought this was worth fighting for.”

Sophia tried to speak. Her lips parted. Her thoughts raced. She wanted to tell you she loved you too—but the words wouldn’t come out. They stuck in her throat like broken glass.

“So that’s it?” your voice broke. “I just told you I love you… and you have nothing to say?��

She opened her mouth.

Nothing.

You shook your head, laughing bitterly. “Alright. I’ll see you in the dorm room then.”

You turned around, walking away, your footsteps echoing through the hallway. Leaving Sophia frozen in place. All alone. With nothing but silence and everything she should have said.

The next day, the sun rose like it always did—quiet and indifferent.

But something felt wrong. Off.

You blinked away the sleep in your eyes and rolled over to check on the other side of the room. That side. Her side.

But Sophia’s bed was empty.

Perfectly made, as if no one had ever touched it. As if she had never been there.

You sat up slowly, the ache in your chest growing heavier with every second. You looked around the room—her books weren’t stacked on the table anymore. Her clothes, usually slung messily over the chair or hanging by the window to dry, were nowhere to be seen. The corner where she kept her favorite lotion, her hairbrush, the half-used bottle of perfume you always teased her about—gone. All of it.

It was like someone had come in during the night and erased her.

No trace of Sophia Laforteza. Not even a note. Not even a goodbye.

You dragged your feet across the cold floor and stood in front of her bed. Your hand hesitated over the blanket, your fingers curling just above the place where she used to sit, where she used to laugh, where she used to fall asleep while talking to you mid-sentence.

And all you could think about was the last time you spoke.

The last time her voice filled this room—it was shaking. She was crying. You were crying. And it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. You were fighting. You were begging. For her to fight back. For her to choose you.

But she didn’t.

And now she was gone.

Just like that.

Pulled out of the school like it was nothing. Like everything that happened between the two of you didn’t even matter. Like you didn’t matter.

You sat down on the edge of her mattress, swallowing hard. The silence felt louder than it should. There were no soft giggles, no sarcastic remarks, no whispered conversations after lights out. Just you. And the echo of a goodbye that never came.

Your throat tightened as you stared blankly at the wall. You wanted to be angry. You wanted to scream. But more than anything—you just wanted one last moment. One last glance. One last word. Something.

Anything.

But all you had left was the memory of her tears, the weight of your own words hanging heavy between you, and a bed that wasn’t hers anymore.

And outside, the world just kept going. Like she was never even there.

gonna leave you guys with a quote lol: “Some people are just passing chapters, no matter how much you want them to be your whole story. The laughter, the promises, the late-night dreams of forever—they dissolve into silence. And the what-ifs? They haunt. But never regret the love that blossomed between the two of you. It lived, even if it died quietly.”

how'd i do :D??? i hope it stung like i hope it would haha

#୨ৎ overadores works #sophia laforteza #sophia laforteza x reader #katseye sophia #katseye x reader #katseye imagines #katseye #katseye scenarios #sophia laforteza imagines #heavy angst #katseye x female reader #katseye sophia laforteza #gxg #wlw #sapphic

127 notes · View notes