#my friend sent me a photo of their friend's cat and he had this lovely little star patterned harness on

[heedeungism]

𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

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

part one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As he should.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink, caught off guard, but nod.

Her grin widens. “I’m Riki’s mom!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t tell her.

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

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

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

“It’s so obvious you make him happy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

riki 🙈: just got out of practice

riki 🙈: are you coming to the game tomorrow?

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

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

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

riki 🙈: i’ll bring you a gift rn

pretty girl 🪩: im not home

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

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

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

“I wanna see you.” 

Lord have mercy—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That wasn’t me, that was Jongseob—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Riki.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course not.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stalling. You’re stalling.

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

Ain't that the truth.

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

Decelis Demons v. YG Pirates

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

“Over here!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you see him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You make a face, “Not that.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s what I said.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your brother plays?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where is he?

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

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

32.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook made me get off the field.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You screwed up. Again. 

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

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

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

But Riki has fourth period lunch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And she deserved that.”

“I know, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As if.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t say that—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” You ask, barely a whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, “Jake ratted you out.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” He jests softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nishimura.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M’not, you're just cute.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s 30° outside.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow, Niki, you're so cute!”

“Niki, kiss her!”

“It’s giving Romeo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re killing me, baby.”

“Sweet names will get you nowhere.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

STARSHIP ALIENS v. DECELIS DEMONS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holy fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beautiful bastard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you just had to pick me up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise a brow in silent question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d prefer you didn't stare.”

“Can’t help it.”

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

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

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

“Stop it.”

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

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

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

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

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

You pretend not to notice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe he just has good taste.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t lie.”

He chuckles, “It’ll happen again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hesitate, then exhale softly. “Nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝒇𝒊𝒏.

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

[emeraldserenade]

Pen Pals ~ Robert "Bob" Floyd

synopsis: You sign up for your college's program where you become pen pals to a military personnel that needs one. You just happen to fall in love with the friend of your pen pal without ever meeting him

tw: fem!reader, Iceman lives because I say he does, slow burn, reader's parents die when she's 18, found family, reader's friends die in a car crash, reader can count cards, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

This took me DAYS to write but I am so proud of it. This is LONG

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Your college had a program, you would sign up and become pen pals with military personnel that didn't have one. You signed up because you had no one either, your parents both died in a car crash and you were an only child.

Turns out that your pen pal was the same way, Bradley, or Rooster, lost his father to a training mission gone wrong and his mom died of cancer. You two became fast friends after the revolution, he was over seas a lot, but recently told you that he was being called for a new mission and gave you a new address. It's one you recognized, you've sent him letters there before. San Diego seemed to always be his home base, which was nice since you also lived there.

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Bradley loved getting your letters, they filled a void in his heart. He's gotten in trouble one too many times defending you from the other guys. He kept your picture in his helmet and called you his sister to any one who asked.

"Rooster, you got a letter," Pete called to Bradley as he walked in. You always sent your newer letters to the base he was stationed at before he could tell you where he was staying.

"Still getting letters from that girl?" Jake teased but Bradley ignored him, you told him to stop getting in trouble for fighting for you in one of your letters.

"Who sends you letters?" Natasha meant it in the nicest way possible but Bradley stood up straighter.

"Uh, y/n, she's practically my sister. Her college does this program where they will pair up a student with a military personnel that doesn't have someone to write to them. She's been my pen pal since bootcamp," Bradley explained, tucking the letter into the pocket of his flight suit. "She knows about all of you," Bradley added on.

"Have you ever met her?"

"No, but she's sent me polaroids of her and her friends. Just simple photos taken while they were out at the park or the one she sent of them getting drunk at a frat party," Bradley reached into the pocket above his heart and pulled the polaroid from it. He handed it to Natasha who smiled at the photo. You were laying on the floor with your cat resting on your chest, you were flipping the camera off but there was a huge smile plastered on your face.

"She's pretty," Natasha pointed out and Bradley nodded.

"Careful, Phoenix, Rooster's fought people because of her before," Jake said loudly.

"Only those that try to objectify her, she deserves better than that," Bradley said strongly, it made Pete smile seeing Bradley so protective of someone.

"Hey, I'll join any fight you start for her," Natasha stated, already feeling a bond with the girl nice enough to write letters to a stranger.

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You were anxiously waiting for Bradley's next letter, you asked in the last one for photos of everyone. You knew he went on that super top secret mission earlier in the week but didn't know when he got back. And you specifically asked for more information about Robert Floyd, you had started growing a crush on him without knowing him. You checked the mail when you got home and there was a letter waiting from Bradley.

Hey, Jake kinda forced me into telling everyone about you. Don't worry, I didn't fight him. As for Bob, he's not much shorter than me and he's a little bit more on the quiet side. You like him though, I can tell. I had everyone pose for photos for you and added them to the envelope, some where taken at the Hard Deck too. My number is also at the end of this letter, the rest teased me about never giving it to you and never getting yours. Oh and the mission was a success. (xxx)xxx-xxxx ps, if you do develop a crush on any of them, Bob isn't a bad choice. - your not brother, brother, Bradley

You smiled as you read the letter, you figured Bradley would know you had a crush on Bob. You looked at each picture, taken off a polaroid like yours were. They each had the name of who was in it, each different hand writing and you guessed it was from who was in the picture. You paused when you saw Bob's, his military issued glasses and perfectly gelled hair somehow seemed to look amazing on him. He had a dorky smile on his face but you loved it.

you: Hey, it's y/n! I just got your letter Bradley: Hey! I hoped the pictures brought a smile to your face you: They did! You said you took some at the Hard Deck, right? Bradley: Yeah, why? you: I don't live far from there we could meet up, if you wanted to meet in person that is Bradley: Are you sure this isn't a way to meet Bob? you: Shut it! No, I actually want to meet my not brother brother Bradley: Then be there around 6 tonight! you: Will do, lieutenant

Six rolled around sooner than you expected and you found yourself standing by your car. You could tell it wasn't busy and the Bronco that was in some of Bradley's photos was parked outside. You hesitated to walk in, you knew Bradley but you've never seen him in person.

You took a deep breath and walked in, you were greeted with the loud music from the jukebox and the sight of a bunch of pilots in the back by the pool table. You beelined for the bar, knowing Penny could help calm your nerves, she was good at that when you worked here before.

"Hey, hon, what are you doing here?" Penny greeted you with a smile.

"Uh, remember that Navy pilot I'm pen pals with?" You questioned.

"Yeah, why?"

"He's here," you whispered and she raised an eyebrow.

"Your Bradley is the one over there playing pool?"

"Yeah," you nodded.

"Go say hi, he's been waiting for you since we opened," she shooed you away and, oddly enough, she did calm your nerves.

You didn't get far before you arm was grabbed, you were barely a step away from the bar. He was in a uniform and you had to guess he was a fresh wave since he wasn't in Bradley's photos or letters.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing all alone?" The man pressed himself to you and you jumped back into the bar. You didn't have time to tell him off before you heard it.

One Two Three Four "Overboard!" The entire bar shouted as Penny finished her ringing of the bell. It's how you see Bradley for the first time, he walked over with the other men you recognized from the photos, Jake and Javy.

"Welcome to TOP GUN," Jake said as they hauled the man away from you.

"Rule number one: never mess with my sister," Bradley said as they literally threw him out the door and shut it in his face. Bradley beelined back to you and pulled you directly into his arms. "Are you ok?"

"Didn't I say to stop fighting people for me?" It was a joke, one that made Bradley laugh.

You were dragged to Bradley's friends and suddenly you had offically met everyone. You and Bradley got along as if you had been real siblings who grew up together, you met the infamous Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and promptly ripped him a new one, your anger about what he did to Bradley simmering since you learned about it.

"Are we sure she isn't your long lost sister?" Jake joked as you finished yelling at Pete, your eyes blazing as you stared him down.

"I can say you have made the short list of people who truly scare me, congrats," Pete Mitchell was, for once, at a loss for words. A laugh and a hand landing on your shoulder pulled you from your staring contest with Pete, you were greeted with the face of an nice looking older man.

"Admiral Kazansky," the pilots around you saluted and greeted the man but he waved them off.

"Admiral, it's nice to meet you," you offered your hand, the only one not in the Navy so the only one not to salute.

"Please, after that wonderful tell off to Mav here, call me Tom," he shook your hand and you smiled.

You spent your night with the pilots, new and old, before going back home. Not having drank meant you could drive back home, which is what you did.

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You had become an honorary member of the Dagger Squad, your fake call sign Birdie came from the fact that Bradley wouldn't stop calling you his sister.

"Birdie!" You were headed to your car from class when you heard your nickname be called from across the quad. You grimaced as a bunch of your fellow grad students looked at you. You looked over and saw your gaggle of pilots running towards you. "We're going roller skating tonight, wanna join?" Mickey asked and you nodded.

"Why not put this in the group chat?" You questioned.

"These knuckleheads forgot you weren't in the groupchat that we have for work related things," Natasha revealed and you laughed.

"Ah, what are you all doing here?"

"We came to ask you," Mickey smiled and you scrunched your eyebrows together. "And because we all were in two cars and thought we would surprise you," Mickey added on and you nodded.

"Well, now we have three, who wants to ride with me?" Automatically Natasha, Mickey, and Bob claimed your car and the others went back to the other cars.

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You found your old roller skates tucked away in your closet, you had stopped at your apartment with the Dagger Squad to get changed and ready. Your outfit consisted of a white tennis skirt, a black tank top, and one of the Hawaiian shirts you had stolen from Bradley after getting bear spilt on you at the Hard Deck.

"I'm ready to go!" You announced and smiled as Bradley shook his head at you.

"Stealing my look?" Bradley joked.

"What can I say? I wear it better," you smiled at him as he threw his arm around your neck and pulled you into a side hug.

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Pulling up to the roller rink was fun, everyone had taken the three cars and you still had Natasha, Bob, and Mickey. The four of you had been singing and laughing the whole way there, even though you had to practically bat your eyes at Bob to get him to sing. It made it easier to do that since Natasha insisted on driving.

"I am NOT riding with chicken next time," Jake complained as he jumped out of Bradley's bronco.

"It couldn't have been that bad," you tried to reason but Bob gently placed his hand on your arm and shook his head at you. You stayed silent as the group walked in, you hung back with Bob as everyone walked. "You look nice," you told him, taking a glance at the shorts and plain shirt be wore.

"Thanks, uh, so do you," he nervously said and you gave him a smile.

"Birdie, you have your own skates?" Jake asked as everyone else was getting rentals.

"Yeah," you nodded, not particularly wanting to just tell the story on why you have them that night.

"Why?" Jake asked the question you knew was coming so you took a deep breath.

"I got them for a frat party my sophomore year of undergrad," you lied and saw him smirk before laughing.

"Why do you need roller skates for a frat party?"

"Because, I just did," you argued back before finishing up your lacing and standing up, you could have told the truth but didn't feel like bringing down the mood. You glided across the floor with ease, it was something you did on the weekends with your parents growing up before the died. You paused by Bob and leaned against the wall of the rink across from him, you watched as he stood and was surprisingly steady. "You can skate?"

"Yeah, I did it a lot with my younger brother," Bob told you and you smiled at him. You two made your way to the rink opening but you paused to help Mickey up and to steady himself.

"It's hard to explain how to skate but like, kinda push off the floor with your toes," you told him and watched him try. "Ok, just watch me for a moment," you told him before spinning to get on the rink and speed around it. You always felt free while skating, like you were gliding through the air without a care in the world. Before you knew it, Mickey was on the rink and skating around. It took him a moment to get the hang of it, but he did.

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You hung around Bob the entire night and Bob couldn't help but notice the way the print of Bradley's shirt you were wearing glowed under the lights. Your smile was contagious and he found himself smiling with you, ever since that night, the one where his friends threw the creep out of the bar and you fearlessly told Pete off, he found himself falling for you.

You were vocal about what you thought was right yet kind and soft spoken to those you loved. He envied the way you so carelessly talked to people and the way you seemed to hold attention so easily. Yet, you seemed to like him, he didn't dare think you could like him how he liked you. But you were always sticking with him, always taking his advice and opinions to heart, telling Jake to fuck off when he messed with Bob.

"Jake fucking Seresin!" You yelled as Jake wizzed past you two, almost knocking you off balance. "Can't believe this shit, can you?" You looked at Bob with a soft smile, the shock and malice in your voice gone. Bob was just glad it was 18+ night with the way you yelled out curse words when scared.

"No, I can't," Bob agreed with your words and you beamed at him, looping your arm through his and keeping up with the slow pace he set. "You didn't get those for a frat party, did you?" Bob asked before he could stop himself.

"No," you sighed, tightening your hold on him. "My parents died shortly after my 18th birthday, but they met in a roller rink. It was a couple's skate and they both had no date so they paired up, we went every weekend until they died," you admitted and Bob stopped moving.

"I'm sorry," he told you, looking you in the eyes.

"It's not your fault, you weren't the drunk driver that hit them," you told him, your eyes flickering to his lips for a moment.

"Stop flirting and start skating," Bradley said as he grabbed your waist and pulled you, pulling Bob along with since you refused to let him go.

"Bob, help me!" You laughed and he laughed with you.

"How am I supposed to help? I'm also being dragged?" Bob asked and you looked for a solution.

"Jake, annoy Bradley by coming to remove me from his hold!" You shouted to the blond, and true to his nature to want to annoy Bradley at any given chance, he came to help.

"Hangman, stop, she's my sister. It's my job to annoy her!" Bradley argued, trying to keep you in his hold.

"Tasha! Help!" You called for backup and soon the entire Dagger Squad was either trying to get you away from Bradley or for you to stay in his hold. You successfully got away and moved to Bob, grabbing onto him once again. "Let's go before Bradley realizes I'm no longer in his arms," you and Bob rushed off the rink and went to sit at one of the high top tables along the rink. You watched as Bob skated away and came back with two drinks and a large pretzel.

"I was going to get two pretzels but these things are huge," Bob said and you nodded in agreement. You two ate your pretzel, you occasionally breaking a piece off and feeding it to one of your friends as they skated by, and talked the whole time.

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Bradley was currently going through your laundry and taking all his clothes back. You two were waiting for the others to show up for movie night and you had pulled your laundry to the living room to fold.

"Why do you have so many of my shirts?" He asked as he grabbed the fourth one from your collection.

"It's my sisterly duty, my aunt tells me that all little sisters take their older siblings clothes. Just giving you the treatment you never got," you smiled as you plopped down on the floor next to him.

"You're making me wish I would have told them to get me another pen pal," Bradley sighed and you tackled him in outrage.

"Take it back!" You laughed, both you missing your apartment door opening. Natasha and Bob walked in followed by Mickey and Ruben, they were here early like always.

"No!" Bradley argued as he pushed you off him.

"Don't tell me no, take it back!" You pushed his shoulder as you laid on the floor laughing.

"What's going on here?" Natasha was the one to ask, she was also the only one (other than Bob) to never question if you two were truly only a sibling relationship.

"Bradley just told me he wished that he asked for a different pen pal!" You told them and watched as they all fake gasped.

"Bradshaw, how dare you be mean to our sister?" Mickey asked as he moved to sit on the floor with you two.

"Our sister? Then you can let her steal all of your shirts," Bradley said.

"Never mind," Mickey joked and you gave him an offended look.

"You two would let me steal your shirts, right?" You looked at Natasha and Bob, you knew Ruben would say no in honor of his wife.

"Of course I would," Natasha confirmed and Bob nodded.

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Movie night was in full swing and you were curled into Bradley's side, Bob was on your other side. You don't know why you agreed to a scary movie but you had a death grip on Bradley's hand, the one that was attached to the arm currently wrapped around you. Every time a jump scare would happen, you would tighten your grip and force yourself into his side even more.

"Birdie, I gotta go to the bathroom," he whispered and you looked at him with wide eyes. He sighed and looked over at Bob who was already looking at you two, a single nod between the two and you were being switched to lean into Bob. He wrapped his arm around you the same way Bradley had and let you bury your face into his chest and neck when the more gruesome parts came on. Bradley had come back from the bathroom by the end of the movie but you were still curled into Bob.

"Let's watch the second one," Jake said and you let out a squeak, one that called everyone's attention to the position you where in.

"There's more?" You questioned, your terror clear on your face.

"Yeah, All Hallows' Eve isn't technically the first but it's considered to be. Terrifier 1, 2, and 3 are the other ones," Mickey explained.

"Are we watching them all?" You pushed yourself even closer to Bob, you were as close as you could be without being in his lap. Your eyes darted to Natasha who stood and took the remote from Jake, staring his down when he tried to protest.

"No, we'll watch something else," she said and threw the remote at Mickey, he turned on The Princess Bride. As the movie played, you relaxed. You stayed pressed into Bob, simply enjoying his warmth and comfort, but you weren't jumping every few minutes.

The end of the movie rolled around and everyone was dissipating to separate spots for bed. You had an extra guest room, how you afforded this apartment was beyond you, and two air mattresses. Bradley ended up sprawled on your couch, Natasha claimed a whole bed to herself, Mickey and Ruben claimed a king sized air mattress, and Jake and Javy took the other king sized air mattress.

"I'm sure Rooster would let me have the couch and sleep in your bed with you, if you felt more comfortable," Bob offered but you ignored him and disappeared into your closet for a moment to change into the UVA shirt you managed to keep hidden from Bradley and a pair of shorts.

"No, it's fine. I'd rather you than Jake," you joked and Bob smiled, he shuffled into your bathroom to change and came out in nothing but grey sweatpants. You shuffled off to the side of your bed as Bob got in, he was tense and on the edge of the bed. "You don't have to make yourself small," you told him in a whisper.

"Oh," Bob sighed and moved in a little more, you two fell asleep at a respectful distance away from each other. Not that it stayed that way, you ended up tangled together

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You were met with the feeling of Bob pressed into you, his breathing was even but by the huff he let out when you pressed against his chest to sit up, he was awake.

"Sorry," you mumbled after you got up. You slowly climbed out of bed and made your way to the bathroom. Bob was still in your bed when you got out of the bathroom, there was something so domestic about him being in your bed. Something you didn't want to admit to yourself just yet, so you left the room.

You tiptoed your way past the extra room and into the kitchen, the only one awake was Jake.

"Good morning, Birdie," Jake smirked at you like he knew something.

"Morning, why is it always you awake first?" You questioned, pressing some buttons to start the hot water for your tea.

"Coyote was snoring in my ear," Jake told you, his smirk still present.

"Do you have something you want to say? You have that look," you made a vague gesture to his face.

"You spent the night in bed with, Bob," he said it like it explained everything.

"Ok, and? You guys too everywhere else," you told him leaning against the counter.

"You're telling me nothing happened?" Jake raised his eyebrow at you.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you," you replied and Bradley walked in. He glared at Jake as he walked to your coffee machine, taking the pot and pouring himself a cup.

"You're too loud," Bradley sneered but gave you a small side hug and a whispered good morning.

"And she's not?" Jake argued.

"Nope, it's her apartment anyway," Bradley shrugged and you gave Jake a smug grin.

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Movie night had turned into an over 24 hour hang out. The entire Dagger Squad had the weekend off and since they were there Friday night, they stayed Saturday night as well.

Your Saturday consisted of going to shops and convincing Bob to let you do his makeup when you got back to your apartment. It's how you and Natasha found yourselves doing the boys' makeup, you were currently leaning over Mickey's face from your spot above him while he laid on his back.

"Mick, if you do not stop moving, I swear," you lowly threatened him as he shifted again, you were trying your best to do his eyeliner.

"You're stabbing me!" He announced and you huffed, gripping his chin and making him look straight up again.

"Stop moving," you finally told him, pursing your lips in frustration.

"Trace, you are not touching my face with that brush," Jake said as he slowly backed away from her, you had just finished with Mickey's makeup.

"I'll do it!" You announced with a wicked smile.

"Now I'm more open to Phoenix doing it," Jake muttered.

"Take your pick," you said, relaxing back into the couch. You counted to three in your head before speaking again. "Took too long, Phoenix is doing yours," you told Jake before turning to Bob. "You're next, come here," you pointed at Bob and then the floor in front of you. He swapped spots with Mickey, you smiled down at him as you gently took his glasses off.

"Phoenix you purposefully poked my eye," Jake loudly complained from across the room.

"I promise I won't poke you in the eye, or at least I'll try not to," you mumbled to Bob as you looked over his face. "You have such nice skin," you mumbled as you poked his cheek.

"Thank you, I think," Bob told you and you smiled down at him again. Bob was a nicer subject to do makeup on, he stayed still as you worked. You huffed gently when you couldn't get his eyeliner right, you tilted your head to try and look at him straight on but it didn't fully work.

"You guys are gonna make this weird," you said aloud before you moved to straddle Bob's waist. You ignored the whistles and yells as you leaned down to be face to face with Bob. "Sorry, I just want to make sure your eyeliner is even," you told him as your hair slowly fell around the two of you, effectively making a barrier that shielded you two from the others.

"I've definitely seen this video before," Jake said and you whipped your head up at him.

"Poke him in the eye extra hard for me," you told Natasha, your eyes blazing. Natasha obliged and you saw her drive the brush into his eye lid as she swiped it across. Satisfied, you looked back at Bob and smiled as you noticed his eyeliner was perfect. You moved off Bob and gave him back his glasses before he sat up again.

"Oh, no," Bradley slowly started scooting away from you but you launched yourself on him.

"Stop wiggling," you told him.

"You're not doing my makeup," Bradley argued.

"Hold him down," you announced and everyone who wasn't preoccupied went to hold him down, he was the last one without makeup done, or getting their makeup done.

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"It won't come off!" Jake ran back into the living room after his shower, the eyeliner still in place.

"Did you use more than just water?" You didn't even look up at him.

"No," he confessed and you held up a single packet of a makeup wipe.

"Use this," you told him, your eyes staying on Bob's face. His eyeliner didn't come off in the shower either so you were wiping it off for him. "And done," you told him, placing his glasses back on his face for him.

Bob and you got comfortable on your couch as you waited for everyone else, you were watching more movies. You watched as everyone got comfortable in your living room again, the thought that you could get used to it living in your head.

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You stood in the USS Midway Museum, it was quiet. Kids were in school and parents were at work, and you were staring at the door of the gift shop. After the news you got last night, you didn't want quiet. You were hoping for someone to walk in, it was starting to get too quiet for your liking.

Your prayers were answered in the only way you wished they weren't, the Dagger Squad walked in. You plopped down into the chair behind the counter and put your forehead on it before letting out a groan. It called the attention of the group and suddenly you were surrounding you.

"Get out from behind here before I call security on your ass," you mumbled, not even caring to pick your head up. You heard shuffling before you finally lifted your head. "Why are you here?"

"We got bored during lunch," Mickey told you and you slowly let out a breath.

"Go look around, leave me to rot," you pointed behind them and ignored the weird looks they gave you.

"Hey," Bradley leaned against the counter, the only one to not leave you.

"Hi," you replied as you noticed his gaze running your face.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his face twisting in confusion.

"Nothing," you lied but there was no reason to tell him.

"Tell me," he urged and you broke.

"Remember when I told you about Kelly and Clyde?" You asked, knowing you had told him about them.

"Yeah, your friends that have been together for years," Bradley nodded and you just started crying.

"They died last night, car accident, it," your voice broke off as you leaned heavily against the counter. You were too busy crying into the counter to notice the others start walking to you and Bradley signaling for them to back off.

Bradley jumped over the counter and pulled you to him, he knew you didn't want words. You didn't want pity, you just needed to be held. To be reminded that you weren't alone.

"Kelly was pregnant, Bradley. All she wanted was to be a mom," you sobbed, gripping the back of his shirt in a vice grip.

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You stood in the house that held the ghosts of your two oldest friends. Everything was left to you, it was all too much. You wanted nothing more than to leave it be, to make it feel like they were still living there.

You knew you couldn't, you knew you needed to go through everything and see if there was anything you could send to some of their relatives. Even if they weren't talking before the death, even if they weren't happy about the marriage, they deserved something to remember the good times by.

Bradley stood behind you, leaning against the door frame. He was just offering you support, it was all you said was needed. You wanted Bob, but you felt like you were already worried about inconveniencing Bradley and couldn't do that to Bob.

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The Dagger Squad was sitting in your apartment, including Pete. They figured out what happened after you had a breakdown at work following the joint funeral, Bradley had been called to come get you and they all followed him.

Now, everyone was insistent that you weren't left alone. Even when you wanted to be, Bradley stayed in your apartment. He was a constant these days, and if he couldn't be there, Bob was.

You hated to admit it, but you did enjoy always having someone around. Just like now, where there was a movie playing on the TV but everyone was too busy playing poker to pay attention. Three games have been played and you were about to win the fourth, it took a moment but you started to count the cards.

"I'm all in," you pushed the small stack of candy you had in front of you.

"Birdie, I'm sorry to break it to you, but I've got a full house," Jake placed his cards down, it was just the two of you still in. You made a sour face before placing yours down.

"Sorry, Jake," you grimaced as you showed your hand. "Royal flush," you breathed out, tapping the cards with a smile.

"I," Jake just stared at you as every celebrated your win.

"I quit," you tell everyone, taking your large stack of candy and pushed it into your lap.

"You quit? You just won!" Jake outraged and you just leaned back against the front of the couch. You passed one of the orange candies to Bob, knowing he loved them.

"Yeah, I have more than enough candy. I'm not going to get greedy," you told him, passing another orange candy to Bob.

You watched the game play, continuing to count the cards. It was harder to do without a hand but you were going based off Bob's. You smiled as you realized Jake was about to lose again but said nothing as you watched them play. You laughed as Jake overdramatized his outrage at losing again and noticed the way he smiled when everyone laughed at him.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Ok, Birdie, how did you know exactly when to fold and when to keep going?" Bradley asked, everyone else turned to look at you and you sheepishly smiled.

"I can, uh, count cards," you admitted, turning to place your face into Bob's shoulder.

"You were counting cards?" Jake shouted and you pressed your face into Bob's shoulder even more.

"Don't be a sore loser, Bagman," Natasha laughed.

"You're not mad she was counting cards?" Jake shot back.

"We were playing for candy, her candy from her apartment that she bought with her money. She deserved to count those cards," Bob defended you and you smiled while slowly moving your head from his shoulder.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Will you just fuck Bob and let us all stop suffering with watching you two do whatever you two do?" Bradley said and you sputtered over your words for a moment.

"I have no idea what you mean," you defended as you stood in the hangar. You were visiting them at work, you had brought them all lunch as a thank you for keeping you company over the past few weeks.

"Here, look," Bradley handed you his phone, displayed on the screen was a photo of you and Bob you had never seen before. It was taken at the Hard Deck from one of the many weeks you had joined them, you and Bob were pressed into each other's sides. You were laughing at something, your smile wide and your eyes sparkling. Bob, however, was looking directly at you, his smile was smaller than yours but he was giving you such a look of love.

Bradley took his phone back before you could say anything and swiped to a new photo. The photo was also taken at the Hard Deck with you two pressed into each other's sides; however, Bob was talking to Natasha and you were looking at him. Your expression mirrored the one Bob had in the last photo.

"When did you take those?" You asked quietly as you handed Bradley his phone back.

"Doesn't matter, what does matter, is the fact that I haven't seen two people look more in love since my parents," Bradley told you and you widened your eyes. You knew it was a hard subject for him to talk about. "You two hold the same love my parents had and, I may be a little selfish for saying this, but they could live on in you two," Bradley told you and your eyes watered slowly.

"Bradley," you whispered before pulling him into a hug. "I'll talk to him, I promise," you told him before pulling away.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You watched as everyone laughed and eat as you worked up the courage to talk to Bob. You caught Bradley's eye and he gave you a reassuring nod before you walked up to where Bob was sitting quietly.

"Can we talk?" You asked him as you walked up to him.

"Yeah, do you want to go outside?" Bob questioned and you nodded, you knew you wouldn't have the courage to talk in front of everyone. You followed Bob just outside the room and into the hallway, you two stepped off to the side so the others couldn't see you through the glass. "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, just," you took a deep breath as you looked away from him. "Bradley showed me these photos taken at the Hard Deck, it put some things into perspective," you were messing with the end of your shirt as you spoke. "I like you, a lot, I may even love you," you mumbled, your eyes trained on Bob's shoes. A few quiet moments happened before you saw Bob take a step closer, the ends of his shoes touching yours.

"I'm in love with you and I have been for a while," Bob told you as he lifted your head up by a hand under your chin, you met his eyes and saw the look from the photo. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please," you told him, leaning closer to him. Your lips met in the middle and you smiled into it as you heard cheers. You pulled away and placed your face on Bob's chest.

"Finally!" You heard Jake yell the loudest and Bob wrapped his arms around you, your arms sneaking around him.

"Let me take you out on a real date," Bob whispered into your ear.

"Tonight?" You questioned.

"Tonight, I'll come pick you up," Bob confirmed and you pulled back just enough to kiss him again, both of you ignoring the hoots and hollers of the others.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[gloomskulls]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ YELP REVIEWS [tasm!peter parker x reader]

pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader

⇢ ˗ˏˋ SUMMARY ୨୧ a fan decided to make an unofficial yelp page for spider man as a joke. A lot of clients...or citizens had so much to say.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNING ୨୧ none

A/n: Just a random short fluff. I'll go back doing dark stories once I feel like it. I haven't really used Yelp, but my friend gave me this idea lol, so credit to Angelina lol. Don't steal this coz I'll shave your head.

Peter slumped on the couch scrolling through his phone. He frowned intensely and tapped a link you had just sent him, headlined as "Spider-Man Yelp Reviews"

You leaned against the door with a stifled grin. "Found it while looking at reviews for that new pizza place. Thought you'd get a kick out of the comments from your…clients."

Peter groaned. "Clients? I'm not running a business. What is this?"

Thumbing through the reviews, he cycled through disbelief, frustration then finally wounded pride.

2 stars

"He saved me from a mugger, but he sailed so quickly I didn't even manage to get the chance to say than you. Really rude."

3 stars

"I appreciate the help...however, he left me dangling from a lamppost for 20 minutes until the cops arrived. You could have just dropped me on the ground bro."

4 stars

"Brilliant rescue, but my phone screen got cracked when he yanked me into a speeding car. Thanks, I guess"

Peter threw his head back, exasperated. "Cracked phone screens? I'm sorry, Janet, would you prefer to have been hit by the car?"

"Peter, this is gold," you dropped beside him taking the phone to scroll further. "Ooh, look at this one!"

1 star

“I yelled for Spider-Man to come help me when my cat was stuck in a fire escape. He didn’t show. What’s the worth of a superhero when they won’t even help the little guy from time to time?”

"That wasn't even a crime," Peter exclaimed with hands thrown up. "What do people expect me to do run a cat rescue hotline?"

"I mean…isn't helping people your whole thing? Even the little guys? Or, in this case, little cats?"

He narrowed his eyes at you. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Oh, I'm loving it." You scrolled to another review.

3 stars

"Got my purse back after it was snatched, but when he handed it to me, he just said, 'Here ya go,' and left. No photo, no autograph. Kinda rude."

"Oh no, Peter, how dare you not stay for selfies mid-crime fighting?" You snickered.

Peter dragged a hand down his face. "Am I supposed to throw a meet and greet after every mugging? Should I bring merch? Web-slingers for kids? Spider-Man action figures?"

You wiggled your eyebrows. "Don't tempt me to start a side hustle."

He shook his head, scrolling further. His eyes widening in disbelief at the review.

1 star

"I yelled for Spider-Man to help me with my groceries. He didn't show up. Ended up dragging six bags up five flights of stairs by myself. What's even the point of having a superhero if he doesn't help the little people?"

Peter let out a strangled laugh. "Groceries? I have to save people from groceries now?"

"Be honest," you teased. "If you would have heard her, would you help?"

He hesitated. "…I mean, maybe. If I wasn't busy."

"Softie," you said, poking his cheek. "You're gonna carry someone's Costco haul one day; I just know it."

Peter groaned louder and clicked on another review, muttering, "It can't get worse. It can't possibly—"

0 stars

"Spider-Man swung by my building and broke my balcony railing. Now my landlord's charging me for repairs. Thanks, webhead."

"Oh," you managed a stifled laugh. "Isn't that the guy from your last patrol? You know, the one who yelled at you when you were chasing that car thief?"

Peter buried his face into his hands. "It's not my fault that balconies are so flimsy in the city. It's very hard to swing around without hitting something."

You patted his shoulder soothingly. "Don't worry, hero. I'm sure you'll get your Yelp rating up again. Maybe even start a loyalty program? Save five, get a free coffee?"

Peter shot you a look, betraying irritation and amusement. "You're impossible." You just grinned menacingly at his words.

"Hey, look at this one," you said, stealing the phone and scrolling to a five-star review, finally. "Finally, some love."

5 stars

“Spider-Man saved my dog from traffic. My girlfriend thinks he's cute. I do too, honestly. Would let him rescue me any day.”

He blinked. "What…what does that even mean?!"

"It means you’re the city’s hottest, most eligible bachelor,” you said, draping an arm over his shoulders. "Even dogs are falling for you. Can't blame them."

He rubbed his temples. “I think I need to retire. Or move to a quieter city. Do they need Spider-Man in, like, Ohio? Whadoyo think baby?”

You smiled and opened the Yelp app. “There, there, hero. I’ll fix your reputation." You assured him as you patted his back

Peter leaned over, squinting as you typed. “What are you— '5 stars. Spider-Man is amazing. Handsome. Athletic. Definitely has a great butt' Babe!" He read out everything you typed for him as you clicked the submit button

You winked. "Just telling the truth. Besides, if you're going to be stuck here, you might as well be a five-star hero."

"Unbelievable," he muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile.

@gloomskulls 2024, DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE OF MY WORKS IN ANY OTHER WEBSITE. Photos don't belong to me

[monzamash]

easy to please lando norris x you rating – mature (sexual themes, coarse language) blurb for ✨monzamusings✨

thinking about u, the text read. above it, there was a photo – dark, a little bit blurry, possibly a figment of your weary imagination. a hand pressing down on black cotton, tanned and veiny – a hand you immediately recognised. fingers too, gripping the thin material and an outline that had you sitting up in bed, lazy smile slipping across your flushed cheeks as the picture came into focus. lip bitten. baby, was all you sent in reply. your eyelids fluttered shut momentarily, loosing the battle to sleep until you felt your phone buzzing, resting in your slack hand. they were coming thick and fast and bringing you back into the present. your fingers tingled from the sensation when you held it up and nearly dropped the bright screen on your squinting forehead. don’t baby me i miss u can i call please???? winky face emoji.

you sighed sharply into the plush pillow beside your head, wondering whether or not you had the energy for it. the appetite was always there. hell – all you could think about was him; even in the mundane moments, he was everywhere you looked – your work, your friends, the cheesy rom com that made you cry before wrapping yourself up in a blanket and falling asleep. you missed him. the back and forth, the will they won’t they bullshit nearly sending you into a spiral of complete and utter confusion. the future was uncertain; the distance between where you were and wherever he was in the world unbearable but what you did know was that you loved him, missed him. and he was yours.

heartbreakingly so. alright romeo but make it quick always am hehe. dickhead.

the phone call connected after one, maybe half a ring – there was no pretence anymore with you and lando. this was routine now, the late night calls across oceans, and it was always the same. whispered, i miss you's and i love you's, strangled moans, hands frantically chasing the high of what you knew felt like heaven together, by whatever means necessary, the best dirty talk you could ever imagine, barely tiding you over until you could be close enough to feel each other again.

“hi pretty girl.”

“hi boyfriend”

“ugh, i love it when you call me that. say it again…”

and you did, over and over until the late night giggles took hold and lando couldn’t breathe – the goofy smile scrunching the corners of his dry eyes, fatigue and exhaustion lingering in his hoarse voice.

“you should be sleeping.”

“i would be if you were here,” he stated matter of fact, not even a blinking, “i think i got used to having you with me over winter break… spoiled me too much and now i'm ruined for life.”

“so dramatic.”

“i’m being so real,” he yawned and by the soft grumble on the other end, he was definitely stretching out his sore, weary muscles like cat. there was a beat and a click of the tongue before lando spoke again, the ominous silence already making your eyes playfully roll.

“so… what are you wearing right now?”

“unbelievable…”

“you cant blame a man for asking, especially in my hour of need… show me pleeeeease” lando whined, toothy smile no doubt lining his chapped lips.

“what if I’m not wearing anything?” you taunted, snapping a quick photo and sending it through without a second thought.

lando quickly peaked, side-eyeing the screen sneakily and sighed when he realised you were pulling his chain, “i'm wearing some shirt you left behind because it’s hotter than satan's asshole here in london at the moment.”

he groaned more to himself than to you, eyes scanning your curves under the thin material, fixated on how unconstricted you were under the shirt he recognised, breasts pert. lando was restless and you really did deserve more than the desperado ‘what are you wearing’ pick up line but god, he wanted to know, no, he needed to know because if he didn't find out, he feared he may never recover.

after all, it was you that had him sick in love. and perpetually horny.

“think i might like you in my clothes more than naked…"

“you’re a sicko.”

“mmm you make me like this… and no bra, like are you trying to kill me?”

“always.”

you cupped your chest over his shirt and took another photo, teasing the gorgeous man waiting for your every move with bated breath. he’d sucked in his bottom lip, you could hear by how shallow his breathing had become, reminiscent of a panting dog – the sound alone quickened your heart rate. the image of him sitting in a hotel room alone, hand pressed to his aching cock thinking about you, parched to the point of a sleepless night was dizzying.

and it was easy with lando, the familiarity of his voice and the rhythm you effortlessly fell into. all remnants of consciousness melted away with him.

“wish i was there with you baby,” he whispered and you nodded, smiling, even though he couldn’t see how happy it made you to hear him say it.

“me too,” you sighed, relaxing into the stillness until your loud, obnoxious doorbell shook you from the peaceful silence.

“fuck!” you cursed, frozen in place.

“what?” 

“someones at the door…”

“what time is it there?”

“like 11pm… should i ignore it?” you were already grabbing the cardigan you'd thrown over the end of your bed and halfway to the door, curiosity winning out.

“nah, nah. you’re on the phone with me – answer it,” he encouraged, “i wanna make sure it isn’t your side piece coming ‘round when i’m not there.”

“ha-ha, actually my other boyfriend is already here, i've been trying to get you off the phone this whole time...”

"hmm, lucky cunt." he mumbled.

lando made you brave, stupidly brave so you swung the door open without hesitation, locked and loaded with a line of interrogating questions for the person interrupting the precious time you had with the man you love.

but you were hearing double as you held the phone to your ear and looked up – you knew that mess of frazzled curls and tired eyes anywhere, peering back with a smile the size of the moon curling at the corners of his lips. he was bundled up in a hoodie, one you knew would feel warm to the touch and smelled like him.

you had to be dreaming.

“better go tell your other boyfriend to pack his shit and get the fuck out of our house.”

“lando…” tears welled in your eyes as you lunged into his open arms.

“hi pretty girl…” he chuckled, picking you up without hesitation and hooked your legs around his waist, carrying you over the threshold.

“why didn’t you say you were coming home?”

“surprises are sexy, no?” he asked, voice deliciously low. he knew your answer.

“very sexy.” you moaned and pressed firm, fiery kisses into his strong neck, “you’re so sexy – all of this is sexy… god, i love you.”

“love you too sweetheart – let’s go to bed.”

“to sleep?” you asked, with doe-eyes and a devilish grin.

“yeah, i flew eleven fuckin' hours to just sleep… oh and by the way," lando narrowed his eyes and pointed to the crinkled shirt hanging from your shoulders, you looked a mess.

"i want my shirt back right now.”

you hummed and twirled down the hallway, “you’re gonna have to pry it off my cold, horny body, norris…”

“mission accepted,” lando confidently stated, chest puffed as he started stripping his hoodie from his body and inched closer and closer to where you were stood and all you could do was admire the gorgeous man stalking towards you.

oh, and blink a few times to make sure you definitely weren't dreaming, "i can't believe you were sexting me in the back of a cab."

“i know," he chuckled, "it was getting a bit much by the end there, so i walked the last couple of blocks to calm myself down."

you couldn't suppress the moan building in your throat at his touch and his confession – your mind was running wild, "that's so hot."

"you are." he quipped, hands slowly tracing your sides and cupping your chest in his warm palms.

"this is way better than phone sex.”

lando shrugged as you ran your hands down his toned stomach, thumbs circling the indents just above his hips, “i’ll take anything with you – it’s all good to me.”

“you’re easy to please.”

“well, you make it easy – god, look at you,” he exhaled, brushing the loose strands of hair from your face and all you could do was smile.

“i’m glad you’re home, ya goof. it doesn't feel right without you here."

“me too, baby. meee too.” lando smiled and planted a longing kiss to your pouty lips.

more writing...

bit of backstory with this blurb; it was originally going to be a follow up to another fic i wrote called lost in japan and then got buried in the wip graveyard. somehow it resurfaced in my doc folder right when i needed it and i feel like it still kinda fits in the lost in japan universe - selfishly i love those characters. anyways, i hope you enjoyed it 💋

[lostintransist]

The Price is Wife | Bonus Material

The Price is Wife | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist

Shout out to @lialucis for going back and forth on these ideas with me for nearly an hour late at night.

John, after ace!reader mentioned divorce because he found a boyfriend and left for the hotel slammed back into their flat at looked at Nik so seriously and said, "You need to date my wife."

"John... Why would I date your wife? I do not want a wife." "But she gives great cuddles and I can't lose her. I love her and I love you and and and," John tears up unable to force the words out of the vulnerable space in his chest.

@lialucis had this spectacular take from reader's POV "IM MARRIED TO JOHN AND HES YOUR BOYFRIEND WE CANT DATE RAGHARAGHA"

They also thought about John setting his wife and his boyfriend up on "toddler play dates" so they can learn to get along and love each other so he can keep both of them.

The thought was also thrown around of John making it seem to each of them that they are helping the other. "Nik needs to go out, take him with you to the butcher so he isn't bored," he says to his wife. "She really will need help carrying everything home, the butcher she likes sets up at a farmers market," he says to his boyfriend.

There is so much more under the cut I just didn't want to force a forever scroll through the nearly hour of back and forth we had.

@lialucis had the tastiest of ideas of Nik and ace!reader going to a movie without John and him being upset™ when he found out because he really wanted to see that one.

When they offered to see it again with him, John declined and took Kyle to see it instead.

We laughed about SimonxJohnnyxKyle being confused and concerned when Nik and ace!reader getting closer and them thinking Nik is being a homewrecker.

@lialucis "Simon about to cut the fucking fuel lines to the helicopter if he sees Nik giving her a tour of it again"

When Nik and reader get comfortable they laugh and chat in a way that just looks flirty.

NikolixPricexreader go to a bar with SimonxJohnnyxKyle and someone touches reader's ass. Nik jumps into action hauling the guy over by the neck.

"You owe my friend apology."

@lialucis "That bar fight Johns the voice of reason trying to fight Nik back from murder and his wife from assault with a deadly weapon. John squared has to body Nik and Simon has to drag wife away like a feral wet cat Gaz has to get the fuck out before he's evocerated in public"

More silly thoughts from @lialucis about the guys not knowing the agreed dynamics between Nik, Price, and Reader. "And then Nik and Wife start fucking with the boys"

Because of course they do.

Ways that Nik and reader fuck with the guys: reader brings Nik lunch, but not John. Reader and Nik sit in the heli's and eat lunch together and gossip like old hens. Laughing behind their hands at the looks they get from Simon, Kyle, Johnny. It gets worse when John joins them.

@lialucis "Did you see wife today? She had the audacity to kiss Nik's hand better where he cut it. Behind Prices back!" "Ends up calling Nik the homewrecker tramp and hussy" "Because we respect wife in this household" "And Nik dies laughing at being called this"

"You're a fucking homewrecker mate." Nik proceeds to fall out of plane laughing. Replies "me? Wife would gut me if I sneezed wrong on her period last week," wipes tears. Starts chuckling again, "homewrecker."

@lialucis threw out the idea of matching bedazzled shirts "Wife wears a matching one with Nik that says 'home' and 'wrecker'"

She would make some for the guys "Good at making bad assumptions"

When Nik and John piss off reader she goes on dates with the Laswells.

Photos of them kissing being sent to the guys literally just to fuck with them. Like a Laswell on each cheek and a wide wife grin.

@lialucis "The girls having matching rings that wife swaps out with prices"

"I'm going out!" "With who!?" "My wives, they listen to me!"

@lialucis had the stellar idea of "Los Vaqueros visits and Rudy and Alejandro instantly, I see what's going on here"

[zephyr-ro-emenki]

Random Batfam Headcanon's #15:

(continuation of Headcanon #12)

One of Steph's personal favorite posts was a video she posted titled "Ranking my Father(in-law)'s former lovers" and she has an entire Tier maker list created, that doesn't use any real pictures of the Lovers, just out of context photos that only people in the know would know.

Selina's picture is just a random picture of her actual Cats ("She's Chatty, she's able to help me whenever I forget my Keys, She's able to Acquire the best Christmas presents! A Tier.")

Thalia's is a picture of the stereotypical Witches Cauldron filled with a green liquid ("She's Rich, she has an army of Assassins at her beck and call, Dad was apparently Happy when he was with her??? Unfortunately, she's in a very patriarchal dominant home life with her birth family, her father forcibly broke off the relationship, and she STILL hasn't sent me a Birthday Gift!!! C Tier. Buuuutttt she mothered the current Robin, so, for him, I'll bump her up to a B.")

Harvey's picture was just a ¢50 piece she found while walking around that had a lot of grime on one half of the coin ("I'm not fully sure about this one, I never met them when they were sane, but apparently they were really good friends. It's not going so well now, so I'll put it at a C Tier.")

Harley's Photo was literally just a Selfie of Steph with Harley's Jacket draped over her head ("This one is being put into an immediate D Tier, not because they weren't Wholesome (I've heard stories), but Because she is finally happy and in a stable relationship with her own Girlfriend, and honestly me and my own relationship partner view them as Goals for our own relationship. She's also currently his therapist, so D Tier.")

Steph was completely silent as she moved The random Image of a Joker Card to a Tier Below F titled "The most Toxic relationship you will ever see"

The internet exploded when people noticed the 2 images at S Tier, one of them being Wonder Woman's Logo, and the other being Superman's iconic S emblem, but a pair of wedding bands were laid atop the S. ("Look, Princess {referring to the WW Logo} is both his second eldest's favorite person in the world, but she is also the biggest female goal any of us can have. They are adorable, they are funny, this man had to serenade a group of people just so he can save her ass. If that's not love, what is? S Tier. Now, as for the Couple {referring to the Superman Logo}, Dad has somehow been shepherded into an existing relationship, and I think the wife in that relationship just assumed that they also got our dad as a package deal with her own legal husband. Yes, they had THAT bad of a pining for each other. I, sadly, was not around to see the forming of the relationship, but it was reportedly the most awkward 3 years of Coworkers pining after each other anybody has ever seen, and if it wasn't for the Couples Youngest inheriting the "special trait" of the husband of that relationship, we'd be sat here questioning who the father was. It's also, like, the biggest bragging right, so S Tier.")

And then finally there was just a picture of a Bat. ("This man has an almost unhealthy relationship with the Bats in his mancave. He's named all of them. Well, his eldest named all of the original ones, he's just... Continued to name all the new one's that migrate into the cave?? He gets them vaccinated and takes them to the Vet??? B Tier, I'm putting them above Robin's Mom.")

[blingblong55]

Needy- John Price NSFW

Photo credits: @ave661 (left)

Based on a request:

Blingy!! *grabs shoulder* BLINGY!!! *shows tiktok* (https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNkkXVpP/) HELP ME BLINGY. H E L P M E. Reader walking in on Price masturbating to her and then it becomes a cat-and-mouse chase ksbashskdbwkbsjs ---- F!Reader, smut, 18+, MDNI, oral!sex ----

A/N: somewhat short but smutty nonetheless

You were out with your friends all day, left early morning and haven't been back home since. Well, in that time of you being away, John cleaned around the home and found a set of lingerie that he bought you many days ago, he smiled at the memory from when he took it off you, made you his that whole night and how you screamed his name. Then he felt it, his jeans getting tighter, the dirty ideas coming to his head and his arousal barely letting him think straight. He sat down on the sofa, pulled his phone out and looked through the folder of pictures and videos he had of you, all he took or that you sent. The lewd images doing his growing boner no good. 

John unzips his jeans, phone in his right hand, he begins to slowly stroke his cock, swiping between videos, your body looking so good on camera. Your tits, bouncing perfectly for the camera, he groans, his head thrown back. "Fuuckk...fuck lovie," he moans but doesn't stop stroking himself. "John?" Your soft voice filled with confusion interrupts him and he quickly covers himself like a teenager being caught. "h-hi my love,...uh..how was it?" He stands up and kisses your cheek, his phone still playing the video which he quickly and embarrassingly shuts down. Nervous laughter escapes his lips. 

"Uh..great, it – uhm were you, wanking off?" 

"N-no– well yes, I...was," he hides your panties in his back pocket. 

You nod and walk away, leaving him confused and still aroused. "Love, come here, I need help," his voice was low but still whiny. You smirk and ignore his plea. He adjusts his jeans and walks to you, he knew your game but had no intention of playing it. "I found that centrepiece for the table I was looking for," you say, washing the piece. "Love, c'mon, don't be like this," he hugs you from behind, his voice low and filled with need. 

"Be like what? I'm just excited I finally found something for the dinner table." You play coy and smirk, he sees that reflection on the window and sighs. "Tsk tsk, don't play hard to get, please my love," his voice lower, lips by your ear as he begs. "Hard to get? John, I'm washing this. I haven't a clue what you're talking about." you chuckle as you feel him nibble on the soft skin of your neck. 

The longer you ignore his need, the more his erection grows. "That's it, I can't take it," he picks you up and takes you to the bedroom, sitting down and forcing you on your knees. "Now, be a good little wife and please me," he undoes his jeans, his fat cock soon in his hand as he slaps it on your face. "John~" you whisper but before you can say much, he gives you that look. You smile and lick his tip, teasing his swollen member slowly and with a look of thirst. 

"R/N," he moans, his head thrown back, John's hands fist your hair and he pushes your head further on his cock. "Fuck, just like that, yes...oh fuck–baby," his pants mixed with moans feed your thirst. The nose filled with his musky scent, your ears hearing the melody his throat letting out and his body radiating heat. Your hands on his thighs for support as you give him head. His cock is so fat you keep gagging, creating tear stains on your soft face. He wipes your tears as you look up at him, his cock filling your greedy mouth full, your brows furrowed, waiting for the usual forehead kiss. 

From your peripheral you watch the panties he shoved earlier fall, you smirk up at him. He, unaware cups your face and praises you. "That's it, keep going. That's my good girl," he grunts, biting his lower lip and pushing your head deeper. You play with his heavy balls, leading him to moan and whimper, "fuck, r/n, keep going, just..like that– fuck!" he whimpers as he feels himself cum inside your pretty mouth. "Swallow, love," he whispers and caresses your face as he continues to paint your mouth with his sticky cum. 

After swallowing, he leans forward and kisses you, pushing you to the bed and cuddling with you. "I promise to be gentle tonight," he whispers before kissing your forehead once more. You nod and kiss him once more. 

Tags:

@anonymuslydumb @unicorngirly1 @liyanahelena @under-the-dirt @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @greatstormcat @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @idklols @katybaby00 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @juneonhoth @jinxxangel13. @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @coralwitchdreamland

[smuthospital]

⭐️Yandere Gojo x reader⭐️

Premise: You're so lonely, and your boyfriend isn't paying any attention to you, so you download an app to make friends. You meet the wrong guy (Gojo), and bad things happen.

Content warning: NON CON, Cheating, gn reader

MINORS DNI

"I'm busy right now and you know that. I told you not to call me!" The phone beeps and the call ends, leaving you alone in deafening silence. Your boyfriend has always been rough around the edges, but you love him despite his flaws. He has his moments that remind you why you like him so much. Lately, he's been busy with all sorts of things. Work, family, his hobbies. You live together, but he's always out. He doesn't even return at night sometimes. You understand he needs his alone time, but it's been so long since you've seen him. You called to ask if you could visit him at work and give him a little surprise. You baked him chocolate chip cookies! They're delicious and made with love. Tears prick your eyes as you toss your phone to the side. You're so lonely. You've never had many friends, just your boyfriend. Too many people just make you tired.

You pick up your phone and almost call him again out of reflex. You just wish you had someone to talk to again. You saw an advertisement for a popular friend making app awhile ago. You decide to download it because you don't have much to lose. search it up. You write a few things about yourself, add your favorite song as well as a few pictures of yourself. You cross your fingers, hoping not to match any creeps. You swipe right on a lot of girls aswell as guys. You stated in your bio that you're in a commited relationship to ward off any horny guys. Girls don't reply to you, much to your disappointment. You end up getting quite a lot of messages from flirty guys. The relationship warning seemed to have no affect at all.

Toji: How much for a pair of pantys?

Sukuna: (Sent a photo) *Blocked*

Todo: I know it grips. Please lemme hit

25 new messages!

Geez. It's only been an hour. These guys are like hungry raccoons and you feel like a can of cat food. You scroll through and see one that looks relatively innocent

Gojo: Hey :)

You: Hello!

Gojo: What's up? I saw that you have a cat! They're so cute! Also, you're gorgeous

You: Thank you! That's my lil baby right there

You and him quickly get along. Still no word from your boyfriend, you sigh, defeated. The cookies can wait. You tell him about your boyfriend and how you never see him that much anymore. Be seems to take interest in this and becomes quite upset that you're not treated with the love you deserve. You friendship goes on for a few days. He occasionally trys to flirt with you, but you quickly shut it down each time, politely asking him to respect your boundaries. His nickname for you is gorgeous and although it makes you a bit uncomfortable, it feels too good to hear for you to ask him to stop. He's your only friend at the moment so you really don't want to make him go away.

You: Still no reply from my boyfriend. I hope he's okay.

Gojo: What the fuck. If I had a girl like you, I'd never leave her alone. He's probably cheating

You: What? He'd never. He's not like that!

Gojo: Trust me, I'm a guy, I know. Just look at the way he treats you. You're such a sweet and polite doll and he's making you feel this way, neglecting you. He makes you feel like shit. This is abuse😡

You: Oh it's really not like that, he's really sweet!

Gojo: There you go again...I can treat you better. Just give me one chance. Nobody has to know. You can leave this abusive relationship.

You: We talked about this, I'm have a boyfriend and I love him. Don't say stuff like that, please

Gojo: I'm just sayin

You: Thank you tho, it's sweet that you care. Do you like cookies? I was saving these for my boyfriend, but he's too busy to receive them. They'll go to waste if they're not eaten

Gojo: YES. SEND THE COOKIES. You wanna come over tomorrow? I know you're free. Come to my place, we can watch movies and cuddle with cookies!

You: What!? I can't go over to a guy's house! That's weird! And cuddle!?

Gojo: Nono it's not. We're just friends. And your boyfriend doesn't have to know. It's not a big deal. I have some old wine we can drink. Pretty please

You: I don't drink tho. I'm not sure. I haven't known you for too long. What if you try to take my kidneys! :0

Gojo: Common..would I do that!?? Ridiculous. Don't over think it. Let's watch a scary movie. It'll be real scary. I can't watch it alone! Pleeeeaaase!!!

You: ...Ok...as long as its scary. I wouldn't want you to get too scared

You've never seen Gojo in person, but you're sort of desperate to keep him around as a friend. In his photos, his eyes are covered. You don't question why. You step off the bus at the address he texted you, cookie basket in hand. It's a tall, expensive looking condo. You walk into the nice building and spot him leaning against a wall you in the lobby. He's not what you expected at all. You've seen a pictures of him before, but he didn't look so large and intimidating. He's stupid tall and He practically towers over your frame. He crouches slightly and wraps his arms around you in a tight hug, surprising you with the sudden contact.

"Hey, (y/n)! It's nice to see you in person! You're so much more sexy up close." His voice as soft satin sheets and deep and melodic as a cat purring. He eyes you up and down, his eyes half lidded. He's snapped out of his trance when you stutter a confused thank you. You're gonna brush that flirt off as nothing. "Common, let's go." He takes your soft, smaller hand in his ridiculously big hand and leads you to a fancy elevator and sticks a key into a key hole, confusing you. Since when do elevators do that? "The 21sr floor is mine." The whole floor is his? Is he loaded?

The whole time, you're blushing and stuttering, overly shy and nervous. 'Play it cool,(y/n)!' Your mind is over heating and he thinks it's absolutely adorable. When you get to his floor, he closes the door and silently locks it behind him. He plops on the couch, spreads his long legs out and patts the spot next to him. "Common! Take a seat!" You gingerly take a seat a little too far for his liking so he loops an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. You jump a bit. "Oh don't be shy! I don't bite." The last part of his sentence stood out to you a bit, but you're not sure why.

He offers you a drink and you accept. He hands you a cup of soda. "The conjuring is a classic. I actually haven't seen it before so I thought we could watch it." With that, he presses play and the movie starts. You're both eating the cookies you made. "These are so fucking good. You made these?" He whispers and you nod. Your blushing cheeks are so cute. He's already eaten three. It's heartwarming. Halfway into the movie, he shuffles in his seat and surprises you by picking you up and placing you on his lap with ease. "Hey! What are you doing!?" You try to slide off, but he holds you in place. "Hey hey calm down, I'm not doing anything!" You stop thrashing, but don't stop struggling. "Oh yeah!? Let me off, you said no funny buissness!" You feel slightly tired for some reason. "I'm only trying to cuddle you better! If not for me, then for you. I bet you miss being cuddled. I know you already have a boyfriend so don't worry, there's nothing weird about it!" With that, you stop struggling, too worn out to argue. "...Mm ok." Near the end of the movie, he shifts slightly under you. "Gojo?" No response. You feel somthing hard under your ass. He starts to shift you back and fourth a bit. "Huh? Gojo?" He just keeps shifting you, holding your hips tightly. "Ow! You're squeezing me too tight. What are you doin-"

One of his hands snake up to your chest and cup your breast. The motion freezes you in place.

"I'm better than your stupid boyfriend. He's so ungreatful. I bet you also miss getting fucked, don't you?" It was more of a statement rather than a question.I can make you feel good, better than he ever did. God, you're so hot. This guy is such a loser for passing you up. I'd never be like him. I've been wanting for this since I first saw you. I know you think I'm attractive too. I see the way you eye me"

The hand holding down your hip moves between your thighs to cup your clit. You heart sinks into your stomach as the weight of the situation falls upon you. You have never felt more stupid in your entire life. Just as you suck in a breath to scream, the hand on your breast shoots up to cover your mouth, muffling any sound. You try to slsp his hands off, but your arms are a little weaker than before. All you could do was patt his arms and wiggle around, which he completely ignores.

"Ah ah-be good. I couldn't stop thinking of you. I've only known you for a bit, but that's enough for me." He grinds his clothed cock against your ass and groans in pleasure.

After a few minutes, he stands up with you in his arms and walks with you to his bedroom. He tosses you on his bed and immediately gets on top, holding you down with his hips as he removs his shirt. He looks down at your horrified face and licks his lips. He wastes no time in literally ripping your shirt and bra off. You hear the tear as it leaves you. With one hand, he roughly palms your chest and tweaks a nipple. He unzips his dark purple pants with his other hand, his swollen cock practically flying out and slamming down above your belly button. You gasp at the sight of it, the weight alone is hefty. Much like his entire self, it's big and scary.

Your eyes fill with tears and you do the only think you could. Your body can't possibly struggle and even if you could, he could easily over power you. "Please-please don't hurt me. Please don't do this to me!" He looks at you with sympathy in his eyes. "Shh it's ok. I'd never hurt you. I'm not like your stupid boyfriend. I'm gonna make you feel good. Then you'll be mine..I see that drug I have you fully kicked in." You pail at his words. It's over. You're not getting out of this one. You're going to be raped by this psychopath. You think of your poor boyfriend. You wish he could burst through the door and save you. His name bubbles from your mouth pathetically.

"Speaking of him." Gojo slides your phone out of your pocket and clicks around. First, he disables your location, then he raises your phone and takes a photo of you. He quickly sends it to himself and your boyfriend.

You: We're having a good time. Bet you're jealous

A few minutes of groping later, your boyfriend responds.

❤️Geto❤️: Absolutely not. You're both disgusting. I fucking knew you were whoring yourself. You got a big head because you think you're pretty. I was wondering why you were trying to look nice recently.

❤️Geto❤️: You're like a bitch in heat. You're just an easy, worthless whore. Glad I didn't waste too much on you.

❤️Geto❤️: Go fuck yourself. Or better yet, have some guy do it for free. Get aids and die, bitch. You have a day to pick up all your shit before I toss it.

(You've been blocked by this number)

Gojo turns the screen towards you and your eyes tear up as you read the texts. You have no idea how your boyfriend could have possibly interpreted your situation as consentual. It could be that you're not tied up and gagged, nor unconscious. As he said, he expected this from you. Either way, he obviously doesn't love you anymore. Tears pour down your cheeks. How could he? After all this time? To do this to you. You'd never cheat! Your heart shatters in your chest, suddenly feeling hollow.

Gojo chuckles and sets the phone to the side. He wipes your tears away with his thumb. "See? What did I tell you? He was never the one for you. I'd never say that to you, sweety. I'd never treat you like that. I just exposed him for what he is; a scum bag." He tugs your pants down and off your legs with ease, despite your light kicking. A large grin on his face as he does so

"You ready?" He positions his cock at your dry entrance and laughs. "Because I am." He shoves himself in, but only makes it three inches in before he hits a barrier and you gasp in pain and start thrashing your body. "P-please take it out. It-it hurts!" He's genuinely shocked. "Y-you're a virgin? Didn't you say you have a boyfriend?"

You wiggle a bit, trying to elevate some pain yourself before answering him.

"We never...you..know.." Your face burns with shame. His cock only seems to swell with more blood at the news.

He bursts out laughing. "This makes so much sense now! No wonder why you looked elsewhere to fulfill your needs. He doesn't want to fuck. Is he gay?Does his dick even work? Maybe he's not cheating. He didn't even fuck you once. I could tell how bad you wanted it, but your limp dick boyfriend wouldn't give you any. I'm glad to be the one to have your first time."

Your bloodshot eyes drift to the side. You don't want to admit that he was right. Every time you would try to start something with your boyfriend, he'd push you away. Your boyfriend really didn't have much of a labido, but you didn't look for friends to have sex with other men.

"I know it hurts, but you can take it. It'll go away. Just hold still...or struggle. I like a challenge." His words are evil, but his smile is so charming. He's like the devil. He pulls his cock out and thrusts in again, deeper than before, breaking your hymen and forcing the air to leave your body. He then pulls out and slams into you again, bottoming out. His cock is so big, you swear you could feel it in your stomach. You look down, eyes blown wide as you see an imprint of his cock in your lower abdomen. He lets out a loud moan and throws his head back. "You're so fucking tight." You put your hands on his chest, hoping that would be enough to keep him still. Wishful thinking. He just takes your smaller wrists in his large hands and leans over you, lodging himself deeper than he was before, cock assaulting your cervix, making your body jolt. You accidentally let out a pained cry that could be mistaken as a moan.

Gojo smiles, perfect white teeth on display "Oh, you like that?" He slams into that spot again and again, making your eyes roll into the back of your head, and your tongue rolls out of your mouth. Lewd sounds spill from your mouth with the occasional "No." "Please." and "Stop." Your sobbing dies down, not having any more tears to cry. You feel a tightening in your lower belly and curl your toes. "Nng G-Gojo!"

"Fuck yeah, say my name!" He pounds into your poor pussy with astonishing speed and strength. "Say you'll be my girlfriend. I can take care of you, I can love you. You'll never feel alone again."

Your face flushes red at his words. Those words are all you need to tip over the edge. You aren't sure if he meant it or not, but just the thought of being so loved takes you to cloud nine. A warm feeling washes over you and you cry out in pleasure. You want what he promised more than anything in the world. With your last braincell, you weigh your options. Nobody loves you, you have nowhere to go, no one to turn to and Your boyfriend kicked you out. "I...I'll be with you." What choice did you have? Be homeless?

The bashful look you give him sends shivers down his spine. He leanes down and gives you a tender kiss on the lips which you very hesitantly return, much to his enjoyment. His hot breath tickles your face as his hips hammer into you, forcing cute music from your mouth for him. Your cunt tightening impossibly around his thick mass. His pace becoming sloppy and before you could ask him to pull out, he shoves himself deep within you one last time. With a lewd moan he fills your tummy up with his seed. Your eyes cross at the warm, pleasurable sensation. The feeling of being filled up like a puff pastry, his hot creamy cum temporarly stupifying you. Your tummy now bloated by the sheer volume. He takes another picture.

He wasn't looking for a girlfriend, but how could he possibly deny himself such a sweet little thing. A sweet, doting, cookie baking girlfriend as cute as you comes as often as a shooting star. You'd do anything for the man you loved. Too wifey to pass up. Finders keepers. He's going to make sure that no one ever does to you what he just did to you. You're his now.

He rolls the two of you so he's spooning your back, your ass pressed against him, his cock still firmy lodged into your weeping cunt. He pulls the blanket up and the two of you fall asleep together. You pretty much pass out from the exhaustion.

The next morning, he drives you to your now x boyfriends appartment to collect your things. You and Gojo take the elevator to the apartment. He stays out of sight, but stays where he can hear you. You knock on the door and your Geto opens up. The smell of alcohol hits you and you gag. "Well if it isn't the slut. Get your shit."

He turns his back and begins to walk away, but you grab his arm and gently tug him toward you. "Please listen to me...he raped me...I didn't want to.. do any-" You were cut off by him shoving you to the ground roughly, your head knocking against the wall on your way down. You grunt in pain. "Don't you use that shit on me!" He shouts.

Tears fill your eyes as you scramble to collect your things and run out. Gojo is at the front door now, having heard the commotion. He steps in the apartment and grabs your shoulders.

"What's wrong? Did he touch you?"

"...I..hit my head." Your tiny voice is unconvincing.

"Take your things to the car. I'm just gonna have a quick chat with him." He pays your butt and you walk off with your things. Geto has been watching the interaction with clenched fists.

"You're the fuck that stole my girl. You can fucking have her and pass her around to whoever the fuck you want. For your information, that cunt tried to tell me you raped her, using you as her scape goat." Gojo can just barley understand the drunken shouting of your x boyfriend. Gojo smiles, the smugest of grins crossing his face.

"...That's because I did"

Geto froze in place, not believing his ears. His girlfriend..was actually just raped? And not only did he do absolutely nothing, but he kicked her out and hurt her?

"...What?" It wasn't really a question.

"Finders keepers. I have no clue why you're so upset. You didn't love her. She was so lonely when I found her. I wanted her so I took her. Make no mistake, she said no. Cried for you. You should feel like shit. Not believing your own sweet little girlfriend and then laying your hand on her in her time of need. I'm not even going to beat you for that, you'd treat yourself like a victim. Better luck next time though. Try satisfying your bitch before they're stolen. Thanks for the girlfriend." Gojo says, walking back to the car, Geto still too frozen in shock to react. He falls to his knees, clinching his head. Gojo meets you in the car, your things already in the back. He leans over to your side and gives you a passionate kiss on the lips, tongue diving into your mouth. Your face burns brightly and you cant help but kiss him back. You disconnect, a string of saliva connecting you to him. "So what do you want to eat, baby?"

The car drives off and you don't feel so bad about the situation anymore.

Fun fact: I got the idea to make this when I was lonely and my boyfriend (now x) wasn't paying attention to me so I downloaded an app to make friends and a guy I thought was my friend started being really pushy and I found out men are stupid dogs.

[storiesforallfandoms]

icdiwabh ~ joseph quinn

word count: 3688

request?: no

description: after finding out that her recently broken up with ex is already in a new relationship, she puts on a happy face for the public. but she can't do the same with him

pairing: joseph quinn x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty angst, rpf, use of y/n

based on this song

masterlist (one, two, three)

To give her credit, my best friend and guitarist, Chloe, tried her best to keep me from looking at my phone before our show. And it was working. I didn't even think anything of it, just that we were goofing off before a show as usual.

And then my phone chimed with a text from my mom. She always sent me a good luck text before a show. I unlocked my phone to respond, then saw that my social media notifications were blowing up more than usual.

I shouldn't have looked, but you know what they say about curiosity and the cat.

I opened Twitter to see I was being mentioned a lot. Mainly in replies to other tweets, and most of the tweets were along the lines of, "What happened to @(Y/U/N)?" I clicked on one to see what that context was, and was brought to a tweet from Pop Crave.

"Joseph Quinn photographed on a date with Doja Cat," followed by various photos of my ex-boyfriend getting cozy with another woman.

I felt my heart drop and break into millions of pieces.

I know what you're thinking: why would seeing my ex moving on hurt so much? It's not like we were together. We were both free to see whoever we wanted now. But there were a few reasons this news was upsetting; for one, we had only broken up three months ago, which apparently is around the time when these pictures were taken. Second, Joseph had broken up with me due to the fact that I was a singer, which meant we didn't get to spend as much time together as either of us would've wanted. I understood at the time. I mean, of course the break up still hurt, but I kind of knew it was coming when things between us had felt different the last month or so of our relationship.

Then there was the biggest reason: Doja was the woman he told me not to worry about.

I am not joking.

Joseph and I were together when the whole Doja versus Noah stuff happened online. We both laughed about it at the time, and i had jokingly asked Joseph, "Should I worry about you getting stolen away by Doja Cat?" He had wrapped me in his arms, kissed me, and said of course not.

Obviously, that had changed.

Chloe found me just as the tears started to fall. She was quick to hug me and whisper comforting words.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," she said. "But we have to get to the stage."

Performing was the last thing on my mind, but I had thousands of fans waiting for me. I couldn't let them down just because I was heartbroken.

I followed Chloe to take my place. I wiped the tears from my eyes, hoping my face wasn't too red or puffy. Our backstage crew passed me my microphone as the countdown for the show to start started in my earpiece. I took a deep, calming breath, pushing everything out of my mind. As the blinding stage lights hit me, I put on my best show smile.

~~~~~~

The next few weeks were tough. I had to go on a full social media hiatus, meaning I deleted all social media apps from my phone to keep myself from seeing any more updates on Joseph and Doja. Chloe took up posting on my accounts so no one suspected anything. We had already decided the best course of action was to ignore the questions and comments, and to pretend like the news didn't even hurt me.

But it did. It hurt me more than any words could ever describe. Having to go on stage two to three nights a week and sing the love songs I wrote about him made it even harder. I struggled to keep it together on stage sometimes. I saved the emotions for when I'd get back to the hotel or the tour bus. Then I'd be able to cry until my eyes hurt and were too heavy to stay awake.

Some nights were sleepless, though. On those nights, I'd usually just lay awake or try to use one of the streaming services on my phone to distract myself. One night, I found myself too hungry to be distracted. My stomach was rumbling enough that I could hardly hear the show I was watching. After some quick Googling, I found a 24 hour diner that seemed like it would be slow enough for me to go without being recgonized.

I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a baggy hoodie with the hood up to cover my face. I put my phone and my hotel room key in my pocket, and left to make my way to the diner.

As I expected, there weren't many people there. Maybe one table with two young ladies sat there, plus the workers. I kept my hood up anyways as I ordered, just in case. The host who took my order did look at me like he may have known who I was, but he didn't say anything.

My plan was to get my food and take it back to the hotel to eat it. But that plan was quickly changed when a familiar British voice said, "(Y/N)?"

I froze. There was no way he was actually here. It had to be a figment of my imagination. A hallucination made up by my misery over the breakup and his quick moving on.

But when I looked up, there he was. He was also in a hoodie and sweatpants, but was doing less to hide his identity. Actually, nothing to hide his identity. I couldn't help but glance around to make sure no one was looking at us or there was no paparazzi that had followed him and started snapping photos.

"How did you know it was me?" I asked, then realized it was a stupid question and winced at myself.

"That's...um...my hoodie."

I looked down and realized that he was right. I hadn't even noticed that I had it, even when I packed it for the tour.

"I was wondering where it went," he said with a little smile.

"Here it is," I said, lamely flourishing my hands. "I'd offer to give it back, but I'm not wearing anything underneath."

I saw him swallow at my comment. I thought I saw a tinge of pink creeping onto his cheeks, but I figured it must've been the lighting or something. There was no way I could still make him blush when he obviously had no feelings for me anymore.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'm in town shooting the Fantastic Four movie," he explained. "I just finished a late shoot, so I stopped in for something to eat. What are you doing here?"

"I had a show tonight. I couldn't sleep, and I'm hungry. So..." I did my lame flourish again.

"Oh yes. The post-show adrenaline."

I ground my teeth to keep from saying anything. The weeks of sadness and misery suddenly vanished and became anger. I was angry at him for reminding me that he knew me so well. That we had shared memories on sleepless nights like this. I was also angry that he didn't think our breakup and his quick moving on would be the cause of my sleeplessness. Did he think I didn't know? Or just that I'd be okay with him and his new girlfriend mere weeks after our two year long relationship ended?

I just shrugged in response.

My order was called and I quickly grabbed it. I turned to give Joseph a wave as a goodbye. I needed to get out of there and get back to my hotel room to wallow in my dispair.

But it seemed Joseph had other plans, as he stopped me before I could leave. "Do you want to sit? Maybe...catch up?"

"Is that a good idea?" I asked.

"I don't see why it wouldn't be."

"You don't want your new girlfriend to see paparazzi photos of you with your ex."

There, it was finally out. No more tiptoeing around the topic.

It seemed to have its desired effect as Joseph was now awkwardly shuffling. He rubbed the back of his neck, which was now undoubtably turning pink. "So, you've heard."

"Of course I heard!" I snapped. I glanced around again, realizing I was raising my voice. "Your pictures are everywhere, and I'm being tagged in them cause we never told everyone we had broken up."

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way."

I scoffed. "How else was I going to find out? Were you going to call me and tell me you were dating the girl you said wasn't a threat to our relationship?"

He sighed. Before he could say anything else, they called that another order was ready, and evidently it was his. It was also packed in a to go bag, so he clearly had no intentions of staying either. With any luck, he'd drop this stupid idea of sitting down for a "catch up" and let me leave to deal with all the emptions I was feeling.

But of course, luck was not on my side.

Joseph grabbed his food and turned back to me. "Just...sit with me for 15 minutes at least. Let me explain."

Even though I very much wanted an explanation, I said, "You don't have to explain anything."

"Just...please, (Y/N)."

And that's how I found myself sat in a booth that was tucked away, in the middle of the night with my ex-boyfriend.

It was a bad idea, and I knew that. Besides the fact that I definitely should not be sitting down with the ex that I had been in shambles over for weeks, it was also a bad idea publicity wise. Joseph wasn't trying to hide himself. Anyone could see us and snap a picture, or call paparazzi to make a quick buck. Even with me trying to hide myself, someone would eventually put the pieces together to realize it was me. Then we'd have a whole new shit show on our hands.

I opened my food and started to eat. There was no point in letting it go cold and completely ruin my night. Joseph wasn't as quick to do the same. He was watching me. When I realized he wasn't eating, I made a gesture for him to start talking.

"Is there anything specific you want to know?" he asked.

Well, that was a stupid question. There was a lot I wanted to know. So much so that I knew we'd be here way longer than 15 minutes if I asked it all.

I decided to ask him the most prominent question on my mind: "Did you leave me for her?"

He seemed stunned by my question. "No! No, of course I didn't. Why would you think that?"

I gave him a look. "Come on, Joseph. We both know why I'd think that."

He shuffled in his seat. "It's not like that."

"Then explain it. That's the whole reason I'm sat here."

So he did. He told me he met Doja (he used her real name, which made my stomach churn) at her concert. He had gone with a few friends, and when she found out he was there she brought them backstage to meet her. He swore it was all casual at first, that they were just friendly and were making light of the situation between her and Noah. When things started changing, he swore it was just a rebound thing.

"I never meant for it to become anything more," he insisted. "I was still so hurt. I just wanted something that would take my mind off of the pain."

I couldn't hold back the scoff that escaped my lips. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," I said. "I'm just so sorry to hear that you were hurting."

"What, you don't think our breakup was hard for me?"

"Weirdly enough, no, I didn't think you took things hard when you dumped me."

Joseph sighed. "It wasn't - "

"And you know what else?" I cut him off. "You told me you found it hard for us to be together because of our professions. And, honestly, I understood! If you weren't away filming, I was away touring. If you weren't doing press for a movie or show, I was doing press for an album. It wasn't easy, and while I was willing to go through those strifes for us, I did understand how it could be too difficult for you. But then you turned around, not even a month after you dumped me, and started dating another singer."

He was quiet. He couldn't even meet my eye.

I felt a lump forming in my throat, and my voice cracked as I said, "If you didn't love me anymore, you could've just said that."

He looked up at me quickly. "That's not - "

He was cut off again. Not by me this time, but by his phone. Someone was calling him. When I looked at the screen, I saw her name. It felt like a knife directly through my heart.

I packed my food and stood. Joseph looked like he was going to say something, but I put a hand up to stop him. "Answer your girlfriend, Joseph."

He didn't try to stop me when I left this time.

~~~~~~

As I expected, photos of Joseph and I got out. I didn't know to what extent as I still wasn't back on social media. My manager confronted me about it and I explained what had happened. She wasn't upset as I wasn't the one who hadn't been concealing my identity, and she agreed that the best course of action was just to ignore everything until it blew over.

Another two months passed and the tour finally ended. It became easier to perform as the time went on. Not completely easy, and I did have a night or two where I slipped up and got emotional on stage, but eventually I was able to put the meanings of my songs aside and just performed them for my fans. I knew some nights weren't as great as others, but I got through it, and finally I was going to have a break.

Chloe reluctantly agreed to let me have my social media back. I was still hurting a little, but I told her I couldn't isolate myself forever. It just wasn't healthy. Besides, I would need something to keep me occupied while I was home, besides just watching mind numbing reality TV. She finally relented when I told her she could watch me block the words "Joseph Quinn" and "Doja Cat" on all social media so that I wouldn't have to see any posts about them.

I was honestly surprised to find that I didn't want to look up anything to do with them. For a long time, the desire to know about their relationship was eating away at me. There were so many specifics I felt like I needed to know, but I eventually realized that I was just going to hurt myself further if I looked into them. Of course, I didn't completely stop thinking about Joseph. I didn't expect to. We had been together for two years, almost moved in with one another. I thought we were going to get married. You don't just let that go easily. But at least it was getting a little easier to live in a world where he was no longer mine.

On one particularly nice day, I decided to go out on the balcony to read. It was one of those fall days where the sun was out and there was a little heat coming from it, but not enough that it was unbearable. A slight breeze would blow through every so often, just cool enough to keep it tolerable outside. I was laid back in one of my deck chairs, engrossed in my book to a point that I hadn't heard someone approaching.

"Must be an interesting novel."

I jumped at the sound of a voice coming from my driveway below. I bookmarked my page and sat up to see the last person I wanted to be around. "What are you doing here, Joseph?"

"I just got back from filming."

"Good for you."

"I...I was hoping you were home."

"Well, you see that I am. Don't let the gate hit you on the way out."

"(Y/N), can we just talk?"

I stood from my seat and leaned over the balcony railing to look at him. "We said all there was to say in that diner months ago. There's nothing else to be talked about. Besides, do you want more pictures of us to come out? I'm sure Doja wouldn't be happy to see her man making a personal visit to his ex's place."

"We broke up!"

I stopped. "What?"

"Last month. It was all over social media, or so Lupita tells me." He tilted his head. "You didn't hear?"

"I-I blocked yours and Doja's names on social media so I wouldn't have to see any tweets or posts about you."

Joseph looked at me for a moment before barking out a laugh. I couldn't help but put a hand over my face as I laughed as well. Of course, by trying to block him out completely, I had totally missed the one thing I would've wanted to see.

I was a bit reluctant, but eventually I invited Joseph to come up. He knew his way through my place, he had been there enough times. I sat back down on my deck chair and pulled another one closer to me, as he appeared in the glass doorway. He sat down next to me and memories of all the times we had been out here flooded back to me.

"I wasn't done talking that night in the diner," he said. "I still had so much to say, and I have even more to say now."

"I didn't want to hear it," I admitted. "In my mind, after hearing how you and Doja got together, it just made more sense if you had broken up with me because you didn't love me anymore."

He shook his head. "It wasn't that at all. I never stopped loving you."

I was itching to ask him if that meant he still loved me now, but instead I said, "Then why?"

"I broke up with you because I loved you so much," he said. "Because loving you but not getting to spend time with you hurt so much, and I knew there was no way around that. When I started getting more job offers I knew things were just going to get so much busier for me, and that our already very short time together was going to dwindle down more and more, and I hated the thought of that."

"I would've taken a break," I told him.

"I couldn't ask you to do that. You love making music and performing. I could never ask you to stop doing that, or to change that. I thought the best thing for you would be if you could find someone who wasn't as busy, and who'd be able to go on tour with you and be at all your shows. Someone who wouldn't be in a different time zone basically 11 months out of a year and only be able to call you for an hour max every night."

"But what if that's not what I want?" I asked. "Yes, it was hard not to get to see you all the time, but I never would've traded that for anything else. I was so proud of you for all those roles you were getting, and even if I only got to talk to you for a few minutes, I loved getting to hear what you were doing. Because you were achieving your dream, and I got to be there to experience it. I don't want someone who can be with me all the time, I want you."

I hadn't noticed that we were both sat on the edge of our chairs. We were so close we were almost touching. I could smell the familiar scent of his cologne and it was making my heart skip a few beats.

"I should've talked to you instead of deciding just to end things," he said, his voice soft and quiet.

"You should've," I agreed. "And then if you were going to rebound, you shouldn't have done it with the girl you told me not to worry about."

He awkwardly chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, not my finest moment."

I sat back in my chair, although I didn't want to. I wanted to keep being this close to him, or maybe to get closer. "So why did you two breakup anyways?"

"She was nice and all, but she wasn't you."

We sat in silence, letting his words sink in. He was looking at me, almost like he was waiting. Maybe I was waiting, too, to see where that confession was supposed to go. After a few moments, my body moved before my mind could comprehend what was happening. I quickly leaned forward, nearly putting myself on Joseph's lap, and started kissing him. He kissed me back immediately, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me the rest of the way onto his lap.

"I missed you," he mumbled against my lips.

"I missed you too," I admitted. I pulled away to add, "But don't think you're completely off the hook. You did still hurt me, you know."

"I know I did. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for it if I have to."

I smiled. "I think I like the sound of that."

He smiled back at me and pulled me back in for another kiss. Eventually, my book was abandoned on the balcony, and the large blinds were closed to keep from anyone being able to see the reunion happening inside.

[diekleinesuesse]

Being best friends with Felix:

Being best friends with Felix would be an absolute dream. It wouldn’t just be about the fun, bright moments though there would be plenty of those. It would also be about the quiet, comforting presence he brings, the way he makes life feel a little warmer, a little softer, even on the hardest days.

The Beginning of the Friendship

At first, Felix might be a little shy, especially if he doesn’t know you well yet. He’d be polite, kind, and considerate, but there would be a sense of caution until he starts feeling comfortable. Once that happens, it’s over for you. He’s going to attach himself to you like a koala and never let go.

Felix is the type of person who forms deep emotional connections, so becoming his best friend wouldn’t be a casual thing. He’d be all in investing his time, his love, and his energy into making sure you feel valued. He’d remember the little things you like, send you pictures of random things that remind him of you, and always check in to see how your day is going.

The Daily Life of Being Felix’s Best Friend

Felix is someone who thrives on making others happy, so expect a lot of cute gestures. If he hears you had a bad day, he’s immediately showing up with your favorite snack, a playlist of songs to cheer you up, and probably a warm hug. He loves baking, so you’d get to try all his homemade treats first, whether they’re perfect or a complete disaster.

“Try this one! I think I messed up the sugar, but it’s still edible, right?” he’d say, watching you closely as you take a bite. If you pretend it’s bad just to mess with him, he’d dramatically gasp and pretend to cry.

Felix would be the type of best friend who constantly hypes you up. If you’re feeling insecure, he’d shut that down real quick.

“What do you mean you’re not good enough? Do I need to fight you? Because I will,” he’d say, crossing his arms, his freckles scrunching up as he frowns.

But more than anything, he’d make sure you know how much you mean to him.

The Chaos of the Sunshine Energy

Felix has a soft, comforting side, but let’s not forget he’s also chaotic. If you’re his best friend, you’re not just getting cozy, warm Felix; you’re also getting the Felix that dances like a maniac to random music, who suddenly starts singing in a deep voice just to freak people out, and who laughs so hard at dumb jokes that he ends up on the floor.

“Did you see that meme I sent you at 3 AM?” he’d ask, as if that were a normal thing to do.

“You mean the one with the cat wearing sunglasses and breakdancing? Yes, Felix. I saw it.”

“And?”

“It changed my life.”

Felix would 100% drag you into random challenges, whether it’s trying to learn an impossible TikTok dance, doing “rock, paper, scissors” with the punishment of eating something disgusting, or making an overly dramatic music video to a song you both love.

And if you ever prank him? Oh, he’s coming for revenge. Be prepared for unexpected jump scares, your phone mysteriously disappearing, or waking up to find a ridiculous filter added to all your photos.

The Deep Conversations

For all the silliness, Felix is also incredibly introspective and deep. He’s not afraid to have emotional conversations, and if something is bothering you, he’d be the first to notice.

“Talk to me,” he’d say, voice gentle, sitting next to you even if you don’t feel like speaking.

He wouldn’t force you to open up, but he’d make sure you knew he was there. And if you ever needed to cry? Felix would let you, holding your hand or hugging you tightly, whispering soft reassurances.

He’d open up to you, too about his struggles, his fears, his dreams. And when he does, you’d realize that for all his sunshine and warmth, Felix also carries a lot on his shoulders.

“I just want to make people happy,” he’d admit. “But sometimes, I wonder if I’m enough.”

And that’s when you’d remind him, just like he always reminds you, that he is more than enough.

The Protective Side of Felix

Felix is a softie, but don’t let that fool you he’s also fiercely protective. If someone ever upsets you, he’d be ready to throw hands.

“Do I need to go talk to them? Because I will,” he’d say, eyebrows furrowed.

If you were nervous about something like an important event or a big decision he’d be right by your side, holding your hand (literally or metaphorically) and telling you you’ve got this.

Felix wouldn’t let anyone disrespect you, not even yourself. If he hears you being too hard on yourself, he’ll shut it down immediately.

“Hey. My best friend is amazing, and if they don’t see that, then they don’t deserve to be around you.”

Spending Time with Stray Kids

Being Felix’s best friend would also mean getting close to the other Stray Kids members. They’d tease Felix endlessly about how much he talks about you.

“Felix, do you have any friends besides [Your Name]?” Han would joke.

“Nope,” Felix would reply shamelessly.

The members would treat you like family, and Felix would love having you around during their schedules. You’d get to watch their rehearsals, joke around with them backstage, and be part of the fun.

And let’s not forget game nights at the dorm. Felix would absolutely drag you into Mario Kart battles, Just Dance competitions, and chaotic board games. If you beat him, he’d dramatically fall to the floor, claiming he’s been betrayed.

A Forever Friendship

At the end of the day, being best friends with Felix wouldn’t just be about the fun and chaos. It would be about unconditional love, support, and knowing that no matter what happens, you have someone who will always be there for you.

He’d be the kind of best friend who never lets you forget your worth, who makes life feel like an adventure, and who reminds you that even in the darkest times, there’s always light.

Because that’s who Felix is. A sunshine personified, a best friend anyone would be lucky to have.

[yuri-is-online]

I’d like to hear a little about Idia’s Yutu. I bet he was pretty startled to see his hair suddenly catch fire + any other physical changes associated with the curse. (Do you think the yellow eyes and shark teeth are even caused by the curse?)

Idia is a popular boy and I have a lot of thoughts about him in general; I feel like I gave him a lot to deal with in this particular au... Jade is probably having a worse time mentally but Idia has a bunch of work I know he wasn't asking for.

As for the talk about the curse, I kicked it around in my head a bit and I am going to say yes the teeth are caused by it but the eyes are just something Idia got from his parents. I know I talk about thinking there is something wrong with Trey, but I don't think that's because of a curse and his eyes are definitely yellow. Idia's do seem to glow a bit so if you want your Yutu to have different colored eyes I think it would make sense if they had a bit of a glow to them, but that's just me.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. For this post, I would recommend reading this explanation of what happened to the boys as Idia has a pretty big role in the bad timeline, and his actions will be somewhat referenced here.

Idia has the benefit and the literal curse of being in charge of S.T.Y.X., meaning that when blot investigations are conducted he tends to be in the know. His Yuu and Yutu should have been safe from anything the Marshall's decided to do but they weren't. Unlike pretty much everyone else in this AU, Idia learns what happened to his family. He knows that Yuu was cursed, he knows they were sent back to their world. But that's about it, he tries to find some sort of way to make contact with your world so he can bring you home but then things go to shit and his progress is severely delayed. By the time he has to help bury Leona it's stopped completely. Ortho tries his best to help, but Idia doesn't really want him to. As much as he wants to see you again, he doesn't want you to have to suffer through any overblots again, nor does he want to raise a child in a dying world.

Sometimes when he is alone, energy drinks scattered around his desk he'll look over to the little digital photo frame he loaded up with pictures of you, from back at NRC all the way up to your wedding and wonders if he should just let you go. There's a chance you being forced to forget about him means you would have moved on, maybe met someone else and had other kids. Was his kid anything like him? He hopes they ended up looking mostly like you, and knowing there is no way for the Shroud curse to reach them does make it slightly easier to sleep at night. He tells himself when he comes back to work tomorrow, he'll put the frame in a drawer along with his wedding ring but he never does. In his mind, he is still your husband, just waiting for fall to come so you can try to be together again. Fall might be another life, but Idia surprisingly doesn't mind. He can wait for you.

Idia! Yutu was a massive crybaby when he was a baby. Very clingy to Yuu and very afraid of his own shadow let alone his teachers and peers. He grows out of the crying as he gets older but not the social anxiety. Yutu wants friends, he just sucks at making them and is extremely stressed out by being around people. I could see Yuu maybe getting an animal of some sort to help with the stress and anxiety their son was feeling. And just by typing that I have become attached to the concept: Ida! Yutu gets a dog Yuu feels inclined to name Cerberus. Yutu adores her and takes very good care of her without any fights about his chores.

Yuu remembers Idia as being more of a cat person, but they tell Yutu they think he really would have approved of Cerb. They remember him as being a socially awkward, but extremely passionate about his work and hobbies. His love of retro games causes a lot of Yuu's cursed pains, they know he liked those sorts of games but they can't for the life of them remember the titles. Yutu tries to reassure his parent it's just nice knowing a little bit about his dad and that he doesn't need the specifics. Hearing about his dad's interests motivates him to learn about emulators as he gets older, and he builds Yuu a nice family computer after scrounging for parts.

Yutu prefers single player or local co-op games, but makes an exception if Yuu has a long term MMO or something like a genshin account because he does like playing with Yuu. It helps soothe his social anxiety to talk to people while he knows his parent and Cerberus are near by, but when they aren't online he's essentially a solo gamer.

Unfortunately for Yutu's potential inner gremlin, Yuu also remembers Idia's shut in tendencies and is determined to get him outside from a very young age. Cerb does her best to help with that too, it's Yutu's job to walk her and he swears she keeps trying to introduce him to people. He's had so many awkward conversations with the people in his neighborhood because of her. His other chore used to be helping out in the little vegetable garden Yuu started to help cut down grocery costs, but that quickly ceased being a chore and became a full blown passion.

Idia! Yutu loves flowers. He fills his windowsills with plants that are safe to be around dogs and has Cerberus help him dig a flower bed around your home so he can plant more of them. Sure the veg garden is nice too, but he loves the significance of and variety that can be found in flowers. If you live in a place that can keep bees then he will absolutely bug you about wanting to get some.

Twisted Wonderland looks horrible to Yutu. It's dark and cold, he's been snapped into a room full of people in a place he doesn't recognize, and his parent has gone non responsive as he tries desperately to shake them awake. He tries snapping at the fancy looking man that comes to help and accidentally bites his tongue, and that's when he notices it.

Mostly because Cerberus tackles him and tries to put him out.

"Owowowowowowowwww-" Yutu tries to push Cerberus back but she keeps whining and trying to lick at his face. She yelps as Yutu catches his breath as he sees what she's trying to paw at. His hair is on fire, or to be more accurate his hair is fire. He can hold it, he can tug at it, it's warm and is not burning his clothes but his hair is on fucking fire-

"STAY." The voice is so commanding that both Cerb and Yutu freeze, the strange man from before with his dual colored hair looks oddly nostalgic at his little command, eyes obviously softening at the dog as he shakes his head. "Good girl, no need to worry. Your little master is ok, he isn't going to combust." Cerberus whines, but she relaxes and Yutu stands shakily. "Though full warning you might feel like you are once I am done explaining things to you."

Idia and Ortho are called to NRC for an emergency and debriefed on their way over. Yuu holds on to life just long enough to speak with Idia a little, the first time Yutu meets his dad the two of them are saying goodbye to a now comatose Yuu. The silence is awkward, but the hold Idia has on Yutu isn't. I like to think that Idia and Yuu had talked about what they would have wanted to name Yutu, and that memory had carried across the world so there was no awkward introduction phase between the two of them. The sort of fall into each others lives immediately, the want for the other to exist overriding anything else.

Cerberus helps too. Idia might be more of a cat person but cute doggies are good too. ESPECIALLY one with such an awesome name, she's the most spoiled girl in the entire apocalypse. She's an old dog at this point, so Idia takes her back to S.T.Y.X. where she becomes a sort of unofficial mascot for the research teams. Idia makes her a uniform and everything. He regularly sends pictures to Yutu while he's busy at school.

Because of Yutu's love of gardening trumping his interest in technology, he ends up in Heartslabyul instead of Ignihyde. He is very embarrassed about this at first (he really hates the uniform) but Idia reassures him that he doesn't care about that. His kid could probably kill someone in front of him and he would not care, especially not at this point. So long as he is able to talk to his child about manga and games he doesn't care what extra circulars they're into. I can't see him being super excited about having to go to sports games, but then again maybe he would just think about it like a sports anime to help psych himself up to go (his kid would obviously be his favorite character).

Bad timeline Idia is a lot calmer than his younger self. He still loses his temper and goes on smug rants, but in general he speaks exactly like he does in book six to the S.T.Y.X. employees. His true personality only really comes out when he's alone with Ortho and Yutu, but he tries to keep his more pessimistic side in check. He wants Yutu to have some hope for the future, but the more he runs the numbers the bleaker things look.

Ortho is beyond excited to have his nephew back. He always liked hanging out with Yuu because of the lack of data he had about them. Every conversation he had with them was unique, and he was really looking forward to having the same experience with Yutu. He was just as if not more distraught than Idia when you both disappeared, so having Yutu back brings a bit more spark to his soul. Yutu was so stressed out from all of the changes he was experiencing that meeting Orhto felt weirdly normal. What's weirder: having an artificial humanoid for an uncle, technically being part alien, having fire for hair, or having a spell that literally opens the gates of hell. Yutu is not taking option one that's for sure.

Ortho and Idia are the ones who propose going back in time, but when it's their Yutu who is making the journey the suggestion is extremely difficult to make. Idia doesn't like the idea of asking his son to do this, it feels selfish. But then, Idia also feels like bringing him into existence before he could break the family curse was selfish, no matter what Yutu was always going to be doomed. But that just means he should be the one taking responsibility for this... Ortho volunteers himself for the mission but Yutu points out that that would probably be even more dangerous than sending him. It's a tearful goodbye, everyone knows that if the missions succeeds this timeline will cease to exist and they will never get to see each other again. They have a little party at NRC and Idia takes Yutu aside to visit Yuu's grave, firstly so they can say goodbye and secondly because he has a confession to make

"I was mega cringe when I was at NRC." His dad can't even look him in the eyes, and Yutu swears he sees him shaking. He has to blink a few times to make sure he is seeing things right, this doesn't look like overworked dad, or stressed dad, or angry at something mundane dad. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was-

"Well isn't everybody?" The tips of Idia's hair turn pink at the question and Yutu's quickly mirrors him from feeling like he's done something wrong. All he's done is repeat his dad's own advice back to him though. "You're always so cool and confident-" Idia wheezes and Yutu almost has to catch him. "I mean I'm sure you can't be bad as me-"

"Oh you are going to regret saying that." His dad can't really bring himself to elaborate further but the thousand yard stare does all the talking for him.

Idia! Yutu was given three very simple instructions by Uncle Ortho about going back in time:

1) don't try to lie to me about who you are, I will run scans and figure it out. Grandma and Grandpa finding out would probably be bad and just complicate things. Easy enough, having Uncle Ortho on his side makes the transition between future and past a lot easier. Current Ortho might be a lot more innocent? Naive? He isn't sure if those are the words he would use, but he is certainly less used to having a soul and being his own person than his Uncle is. Not that this makes him any less accepting of Yutu... if anything he is even more excited about him than he was in the future.

2) try to keep who you are a secret from Yuu, but get close to them. We need them to stay alive, even if we don't know why yet... Less easy than hanging out with Uncle Ortho, but still easy enough. I tend to write all Yutus as not fully realizing how much they missed or loved Yuu until they got to see the younger version of their parent... but out of all of them Idia! Yutu is certainly up there for just how hard it hits him. Mostly because of Rule 3:

3) I am so fucking sorry for what you're going to have to deal with please be patient with me!!! I promise I love you and your parent so much I'm just not going to know-

So that obviously came from Idia and not Ortho, but Yutu really disregarded that warning until he accidentally ran into his dad while trying to find Ortho and saw him take out a tablet? That he used to talk with and got very panicky about when he asked a very simple question about it. Uncle Ortho helpfully tells him later that Idia uses it to help him speak in public because of his anxiety, and is very pleased to learn Yutu has never seen him use it in the future. But that doesn't really change how things are now...

On the one hand, Yutu gets it. He has bad social anxiety himself, but because he had a very supportive parent who worked with him to challenge himself in healthy ways he never got to the point that Idia is. He also was a lot older when he had his first experience with a traumatic loss and had Idia (who is a bit too experienced) and Ortho (who is just so understanding) there to help him through it. He knew that was not the case for his dad, they talked about it a lot in the future because Idia felt like he had a right to know, but I don't think he fully comprehended how bad Idia's mental health was.

Because no matter how much he might get it, this guy is still his dad and Yutu really wants to interact with him. He wants to impress him and maybe finally beat his high score on Star Rogue, Yutu just knows there are a bunch of stories he never got to hear because his dad was too embarrassed to tell him and this is maybe his one chance to find all of them out. But his dad is such a shut in he barely even interacts with Yuu! Yutu was always way too embarrassed to ask him about how they got together and now he swears he'll never know because him being in Ramshackle seems to have scared his dad off.

That's only half true, Idia doesn't really see Yutu as a romantic rival... like Cater he assumes you are related in some way because of the similar appearances and tastes in manga. Even when the two of you deny it he shrugs it off, hey maybe Yutu is just you from a different reality? He thinks he read a manga like that once... either way not his monkey not his circus. But like. It could be, Ortho really does like to remind him that Yuu is much less judgemental than everyone else on campus so if he wanted to make some progress on his journey of self improvement talking to them might not be such a bad idea. wink wink nudge nudge! But going over there still means he has to interact with someone other than Yuu and Mr. Grim and that's stressful.

He doesn't think about it at all when Yutu keeps finding excuses to not be there when Ortho drags him to visit because of how relieved he is to not have to socialize with him, at first anyway. He notices when Ortho excuses himself too, they certainly seem to be buddy buddy which isn't something he's going to complain about but as Idia does get closer to Yuu and *ugh* admits to himself he's got some feelings he starts to feel like he should at least know something about the kid other than his name. He does not completely figure it out, but he notices all of the relevant data points before he's slapped in the face with who Yutu is.

Like Lilia! Yutu's reveal, I think Idia finds out about who Yutu is in the middle of a fight. Yuu gets injured by a really strange blot phatom Idia has never seen before and Yutu absolutely looses it. His hair flares up and for snaps his hood to cinders as he's roaring out spells and trying desperately to make sure that thing doesn't touch his parents. Something you both hear loud and clear.

At first this makes Idia beyond excited. He probably joins the little fit his son is throwing except in raw joy because he's fantasized so much about this! He even has a little sims save where Yuu and him are married and they've got a kid and a cat and wow just look at Yutu he looks even cooler in real life than he does in a life sim! Yuu look at him, you guys have a-

A kid. You have a kid. With him. One that's got his teeth and hair and your nose and is sobbing in his arms about how much he missed you both and doesn't want to watch you die again. The sheer worry eclipses his second hand embarrassment at his own smugness as he awkwardly holds on to the sobbing Yutu and looks towards you for help. He's never been good at this whole emotional comfort thing, pls assist. So you pick yourself up and join the group hug and all three of you just sort of sit there for a bit while Yutu tells his story. About growing up in your world, how he came to NRC and his friends in Heartslabyul (Idia is blaming that on you, as a joke ofc he doesn't care what house his kid is in), and the plan to go back in time because of how hopeless the future is. It's not a story Idia takes lightly, especially when Ortho confirms it and sends him all of the data he and Yutu have collected so far. Idia is a bit gloomy and prone to complaining, but if you are in a bad place there are few people more reliable. He is a lot like death in a way, he'll always be there in the end.

Idia is a bit awkward around Yuu for a bit after the reveal, I like to think of you as being newly together at this point so Idia hasn't really revealed just how... detailed some of his fantasies about you are just yet. There are a lot of them, he has uh. Maybe written some of them down, pleasedon'tmakehimreadthemoutloud and most of them are perfectly normal and respectable (lies). It stops when you tell him Yutu had to come from somewhere and he dies, buries himself under his covers, and rises again a changed man. Yeah that's right, his kid did come from somewhere NORMIES. He had se-

He's not super big into PDA but he is comfortable being clingy around Yutu and Ortho, though he tries not to be overly cheesy around Yutu. He hates seeing his parents be all lovey dovey with one another and he likes to keep his compliments quiet and for your ears only anyway. I do like the idea of Yuu being a tiny bit more outgoing and embarrassing him a bit around "the kids" (Grim and Yutu) so his hair is in a damn near permanent shade of pink any time he's around Ramshackle. It's one thing to have your younger brother think the world of you, but to have a kid think so highly of you that he travels back in time to save you from an apocalypse? Idia feels super unworthy, it fuels his determination to work out the "problem" Yutu has given him even if his natural pessimism makes him want to give up.

"... Just leave it to your dad." It's an echo of the only other promise he 100% intends to live up to. He really does mean it, Idia is not loosing this match. Just you wait and see...

[bebebelll]

Pretty girls and flowers | lando norris smau

pairing: lando norris x student!reader warning: cursing, unrealistic if lando did this in real life the girl would absolutely get doxxed

yn_phd good morning by best pals! this month's episode will be out this tuesday. my lovely amazing talented so pretty best friend got two tickets to silverstone so if you're there come say hello👋! the podcast guest will be my old professor from freshman year so put down any questions you have about mary i of england! stay healthy and hydrated ❤️❤️

liked by bestie_n and 8 475

bestie_n omg dont praise me like that im blushing

username can you ask why henry 8 never made a marriage for mary?

username god i dont even like history that much but fuck are vlogs calming and sweet and pretty af

scuderiaferrari it's been a lovely weekend with charles_leclerc and carlossaiz55! P4 and P7 💪 Here is the first taste of the silverstone photo dump!

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 193 847 others

username CHARLES IN P4 CHARLES IN P4 CHARLES IN P4 I REPEAT CHARLIE CHUCK IS IN P4

landonorris whos that?

carlossainz55 its me landonorris no the pretty one charles_leclerc me? landonorris ew no the PRETTY one charles_leclerc ew? i will drive you to the wall

username not charles threatening to send lando into the wall in the comments

username you just fucking know he'd do it too just ask max

username is lando trying to hook up with the girl in the photo?

yn_phd i put on a little bow so i could be the prettiest girl at the bookstore ❤️today i wrote a page, went on a reading binge about chariot racing in ancient rome, had a breakdown and ate pasta.

liked by bestie_n, carlossainz55 and 11 264 others

username is this the girl @ landonorris

username lando the pretty girl is here

username cmon lando shoot your shot

username i mean he'll miss but its gonna be funny username no one trusts the rizz of this man with a shit beard

bestie_n who is lando? where have you people come from?

carlossainz55 i think this is the girl we were with

carlossainz55 she got lost around the track so we took a photo and got a staff member to help her. she was prettier in real life. good luck mr no rizz you need it username NOT CARLOS COMING FOR LANDO

username LANDO NORRIS

username this is the girl? not really seeing it doesnt feel like landos type you know

landonorris haha okay people lets not do this haha its not that funny it is a bit embarrasing hah (my dms are open for pretty girls always)

alex_albon well youre talented in the car at least

landonorris my dad scolded me for getting drunk on twitter so i went to eat their fridge empty. love being home

liked by carlossainz55, yn_phd and 385 749 others

username is he trying to look extra cute and soft to seduce the pretty girl?

username you just googled boyfriend material and tried your best huh

georgerussel63 i though youd chosen to go with the shirtless gym photos?

alex_albon you sent like fifteen different gym pics to the groupchat and then dont choose even one? fuck our help then i guess landonorris shut up shut up shut up

username i can see the pretty girl in the likes though 👀

yn_phd me and the gang went to a lecture about lord byron's sex life on thursday. i had a pretty cute visitor this weekend and even our lord and king aragorn the cat liked him!!

liked by landonorris, bestie_n and 9 736 others

bestie_n it was a lecture about lord byron's reputation and fame and how it effected the romance genre?

yn_phd exactly!

username are we gonna get an episode about THE george gordon byron please say yes

yn_phd my best pal i will rant about the whole geneva squad

username did lando norris actually do it

username did landonorris attend the lecture too?

landonorris ive never been happier that i chose karting and skipped school

yn_phd i have discovered hidden depths in myself. i can cry about essay structures and then drive bumper cars an hour later

liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 11 379 others

landonorris it was just karting babe they were not bumper cars

yn_phd but i crashed so much? landonorris you were great!! i was so proud!! 🧡

username okay but how does this relationship even work? if she doesnt know anything about racing?

yn_phd i tell him everything about the tudor dynasty and he explains to me how the drs works

landonorris use date night to play uno and see whos more competitive (me, i won)

liked by yn_phd, alex_albon and 385 739 others

yn_phd the way i screamed after you gave me those cards

username lando really be gambling with a new relationship

alex_albon poor girl

georgerussell63 remember when we played uno and lando got a +4 card from all of us and he got a mental breakdown alex_albon yeahh we had to take 10min break cause he left for a drive around the block maxverstappen1 the neighbours made a noise complaint too

yn_phd i got him flowers and later we both crash landed on the bowling alley floor

liked by landonorris, bestie_n and 13 847 others

alex_albon oh so this why you called me crying your tits off

maxverstappen1 he called you too?

landonorris pretty girl🧡🧡

yn_phd pretty guy❤️❤️

[bigoltrashpile]

*crashes through window* Did someone say yandere prompt requests? How fun! K3 with Noir please. Good to see you writing again! Hope you're doing well :)

Hehehehehehehe, yes, yandere Noir is one of my favorites >:3c

He was right behind you. You knew he was, even though you didn't dare look. You could practically feel his breath on your neck, despite how fast you were running.

You rounded a corner, slamming into the wall as you did. You couldn't risk slowing down. A dark chuckle behind you sent a jolt of fear down your spine.

Frantic, you ducked into a nearby room, slamming the door behind you. A few photos on the wall fell with the force of it. You didn't care. Your pursuer was right outside.

"COME BACK OUT, MY LOVE," his teasing voice rang through the house. You could practically hear his grin. "RUNNING ISN'T GOING TO SAVE YOU."

You grit your teeth as you turned to the window. You were on the third story of this house, but you wouldn't let that stop you. There was no way you were staying here, at the mercy of whatever he had in store. You threw the window open, looking down at the dizzying fall.

Your stomach churned, but you didn't have time for anything fancy. Carefully, you started to climb out the window. Maybe, if you climbed down as far as you could and aimed for those bushes over ther-

Something grabbed you from behind.

A terrified scream escaped you. You thrashed and fought as hard as you could, but your attacker barely seemed to notice. You were pulled harshly away from the window, your freedom slipping further and further away.

"A VALIANT EFFORT, PET, BUT A USELESS ONE." Noir, your former friend, purred into your ear. "YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT I WOULDN'T LET YOU ESCAPE THAT EASILY."

"Please, let me go!" you screamed. "Why are you doing this?!"

Noir pulled you out of the room, back into the hallway. He pet your hair soothingly, like you were a frightened cat. "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, AND YOU ARE MINE. I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU ALREADY." His voice was infuriatingly calm, but held a hint of humor.

Tears sprung to your eyes at the memory. The hand of your former coworker in a box, delivered to your doorstep. Noir, holding a chloroform rag to your nose. Waking up here, where Noir explained that he had kidnapped you and killed your coworker, all because he "loved" you.

"This isn't love, please, just let me go, I promise I won't tell anyone!"

"I'VE WAITED FAR TOO LONG TO HAVE YOU, I AM NOT LETTING YOU ESCAPE NOW." Noir set you down back in "your room," the bedroom he had, apparently, been preparing for you for months. It was decorated to your taste, and even had some of your personal items he had stolen. "AND DON'T TRY RUNNING AGAIN."

You backed away from him as soon as he let you go. "POOR THING," he tutted at the sight of your shaking. "DON'T WORRY, THERE'S MAGICAL BARRIERS ON EACH DOOR, WINDOW, AND AIR VENT IN THIS HOME. THEY LET ME KNOW IF YOU MOVE BETWEEN ANY OF THEM." He stepped closer to you, his grin widening as he did. "IF YOU SO MUCH AS STEP THROUGH THIS DOOR, I WILL KNOW."

"P-please, I just want to go home," you practically sobbed. You kept backing up as Noir continued to come closer.

He continued to stalk towards you, until your back hit the wall. "I WILL KNOW IF YOU TRY TO ESCAPE, MY LOVE, SO THERE IS NO USE TRYING TO RUN." His hands slammed into the wall, on each side of your head, caging you in. Surprisingly gentle, he brushed some scared tears off your cheeks with one sharp claw. "Don't Cry, My Pet." He kissed your forehead. "This Is Your Home Now."

[ellstronaut]

[ ◉¯] tlougram [ ◉¯]

#just a silly AU

ellie is typing. . . ╰──╮

ೃ༄

[ ◉¯] ellie’s account reads like a tech-illiterate-social-degenerate

[ ◉¯] girl literally has 3k followers (boggles her mind how it’s even possible) all of varying degrees of sketchiness

[ ◉¯] her bio’s literally just her initials—ew (yep thinks she’s hilarious ) paired with “space is cool ig” [insert shitty space emoji]

[ ◉¯] tbh—she doesn’t really get the whole “influencer” thing (like what is she influencing???)

[ ◉¯] like the only reason she finally caved and made an account to begin with is because dina and jesse practically bullied her into it

[ ◉¯] which shows—her feed is a hot mess of random pics; memes, a random cat video she saved on her gallery

[ ◉¯] and don’t expect to be fed either—her account is D.E.A.D (you’d be setting yourself up for disappointment)

[ ◉¯] definitely the type to forget she even has an account

[ ◉¯] but best believe—when she does post, its spaced out between 2-3 months

[ ◉¯] maybe a handful of artsy-fartsy pics somewhere in between

[ ◉¯] but most of her pics are literally just sketches (she drew at the back of her physics book) random crap she thinks is funny, memes that only make sense to her, n the occasional trip to the museum/nature pics

[ ◉¯] and like a grand total of one—just one selfie (and yes she did delete the rest)

[ ◉¯] fun fact: she may or may not have accidentally liked one of Dina’s/Cat’s old selfies on a burner account

[ ◉¯] tried to do damage control by unliking almost immediately

[ ◉¯] since we’re being messy—(swears she’d kill anyone on site who dares bring that up but whatever) she once got a chat request from a bot thinking it was a real person 💀

[ ◉¯] spent weeks on end flirting and ofc had to gush about it (like the true degenerate she is)

ೃ༄

spacenerd: dude shes hot

제시: whos hot

[spacenerd has sent an attachment]

dinasure: uh ellie

spacenerd: ??

dinasure: gonna hold ur hand when I say this 😃

spacenerd: she replies quick tho plus shes really nice ;)

제시: bet

spacenerd: huh

제시: bro so is siri

spacenerd: siri cant say stuff like rate my tits??

dinasure: issa bot u moron 💀

[spacenerd has sent a voicenote]

▷ 0:00 ───|────── 0:30

dinasure: fuck no

dinasure: bro just block

제시: ^yea pretty sure @bot_bae ain’t real 😭

spacenerd: SHE SO IS

dinasure: chile…anyways so

spacenerd: u know wat

[spacenerd has left the chat]

dinasure: LMAOO cryingsh

dinasure: think u hurt her feelings

제시:no cap that is sad

dinasure: real like how tf u gonna get catfished by a bot and fall in LOVE 🙃

제시: YEAH bro really down bad for ( . )( . )

dinasure: PLSSSJH

[spacenerd has joined the chat]

spacenerd: IT WAS A GOOD BOT OK

dinasure: i have more chemistry with chatgpt

spacenerd: stfu

spacenerd: n D u dont get to come for me when u deadass fucked a twilight bot

dinasure: bitch its called rp

dinasure: n that was like ONE time

spacenerd: me when i lie

dinasure: i like my men less sparkly now!!!

jesse is typing . . . ╰──╮

ೃ༄

[ ◉¯] unlike ellie—jesse takes his social media presence very seriously

[ ◉¯] got like +8k followers (most of which are girls) cause that man is a snack (duh)

[ ◉¯] his whole vibe is mellow but cool

[ ◉¯] like his IG feed reads like an episode of Crazy Rich Asians (with the extra added thirst traps of course)

[ ◉¯] aka a perfectly curated mix of aesthetic photos, artsy shots, friends/family and ofc his dog Yeontan

[ ◉¯] definitely the type of boyfriend to post unflattering pics of his gf but not out of malice

[ ◉¯] but you know in a—i’m obnoxiously in love sorta way

[ ◉¯] he may be bilingual but he’s very much in touch with his culture—like dude got a bunch of pics of him back in the Motherland

[ ◉¯] ellie low-key tries to get him to teach her a few curse words in Korean but like 99% of the time ends up teaching her the wrong words instead

[ ◉¯] ofc his username is in hangul— (if anything it’s to make his mom happy—because yes he follows her back on Insta)

[ ◉¯ ] and yes he’s such a boy mom—dina and ellie give him a ton of shit for it

ೃ༄

spacenerd: totally know what that means frfr

dinasure: oppa?

제시: 죽을래?

google translation: you want to die?

[ ◉¯] it’s an inside joke, lord knows how many kpop stans flood his dms—in which he makes the point to block them on site (as he should lol) because korean he may BE—your oppa he is NOT

[ ◉¯] yeah—he makes it pretty damn clear in his bio “yall gotta stop with the BTS shit”

dina is typing . . . ╰──╮

ೃ༄

[ ◉¯] Dina’s THAT bitch

[ ◉¯] got like +30k followers—is the whole package; hot—effortlessly cool, funny, charismatic (it’s literally unfair)

[ ◉¯] ofc she’s been scouted by at least three modelling agencies

[ ◉¯] and her pictures? flawless—we’re talking gorgeous—goddess-esque—baddie

[ ◉¯] literally the worst part about being friends with Dina: is how ridiculously photogenic she is

[ ◉¯] can roll up out of bed, unshowered, bare-faced and still look hot af (god has favourites I suppose)

[ ◉¯] definitely the type to have the most engagement (via replies, comments, shares, tagged—you name it)

[ ◉¯] absolutely loves sharing her hot girl adventures/outings—fr the embodiment of hot girl summer

[ ◉¯] expect an assortment of her hiking, visiting galleries, cafés, festivals + parties, and of course her many different fits (not that anyone’s complaining)

[ ◉¯] bio reads: my mom thinks I’m cool

[ ◉¯] don’t get me started on her simps—if delulu were a person, it would be Dina’s cult of fanboys

[ ◉¯] one time a dude wrote her poetry—straight up typed a whole ass sonnet ( Shakespeare reincarnate but in simptongue)

[ ◉¯] in which of course her friends had to add their two cents

ೃ༄

spacenerd: its always ily but never

spacenerd: my queen i kneel, my heart it weeps 😞

제시: lmaooooo 💀

[ ◉¯]not just down bad— we’re talking the most absurd, thirsty/depraved comments—

whitedevil commented: Id let you ruin my life

christian.not.jay commented: feet? 🤤

chrislovesyou commented: looked at my girl and sighed

ೃ༄

[ ◉¯] imagine the heartbreak if they ever found out she has a whole ass man (cue what does she SEE in him)

[ ◉¯] so much salt it could fill a whole an entire ocean

cat is typing . . . ╰──╮

ೃ༄

[ ◉¯] Cat’s account oozes creativity—doodles, sketches, watercolour—digital art the whole nine yards

[ ◉¯] her feed is basically one giant art gallery—like an extension of her art portfolio

[ ◉¯] so if you’re looking for an artsy feed, look no further

[ ◉¯] def an alt girlie (lowkey goth/punk lite) aka dark and edgy but with a soft side to her

[ ◉¯] and by lowkey I mean a beautiful—soft, kind of morbid artistry

[ ◉¯] the vibes she exudes with the outfits, piercings, the makeup and tattoos? (Chefs kiss) high key hot but intimidating

[ ◉¯] not too keen with the whole parasocial thing— “eh it’s nice having people look at my work, but not for me” kinda vibe

[ ◉¯] the type to solely use it for promotional purposes that and activism (btw NOT just for the brownie points like would deadass go outside, touch grass and do something about it)

[ ◉¯] definitely advocates for the environment—supports charities and organizations who fight against systematic oppression (racism, misogyny, etc.)

[ ◉¯] which is one of many reasons why Ellie’s got a huge fat ass crush on her (if it wasn’t already so obvious)

[ ◉¯] proudly Asian—wears it like a badge of honour and is the first to call out racists (and homophobes) any KIND of bigotry tbh

[ ◉¯] her bio reads—“life’s too short for shitty music” and “gay btw” :)” y’know for the losers that might need a little disclaimer

[ ◉¯] not a fan of stupid Asian stereotypes

[ ◉¯] you just know she gets a ton of gross fetishizing DMs (like why do they ALWAYS have an anime pfp)

[ ◉¯] because ruthless she can be with her clap backs

ೃ༄

tagging my besties @bonnibelblanca @adhdprincess ily

[cupiohearts]

I WISH YOU LOVE ! - reminiscing with gun.

(cant catch me now series). GUN VER. dg ver. goo ver

they see you everywhere. james, jonggun, joongoo. they find bits and pieces of you lying around in their pockets, their houses and memories. it depends on which one it is which scene they see you in.

for GUN, he cant figure out for the life of anyone why they would wish someone that moved on in life the best of luck. he was a selfish man. when you disappeared from him, he mutters bitterly to himself wishing curses upon your name. the tear drops on the letter you wrote to him being the symbolism behind it all.

why would he want you to do well without him? why did you have to leave him?

did you not care as much as you said you did? he furrows his eyebrow. taking another drag out of his cigarette while he watches the stupid couple on the street pick out matching items for each other.

"jonggun! jonggun! look come here! hurry up!" you hiss at him as you press your face against the glass of a window. it was the pet adoption center. a calico cat taking a nap in the window as you cood at it.

that was the ugliest cat hes ever seen. it's eyes looked a bit too similar to the one you always give him when you want him to do something ridiculous for you.

"its cute" he gruffly says. you raise an eyebrow at him and made a face "youre a big fat liar. when we grow old with joongoo and james! we should all get a cat together!"

you giggle as you wiggled your finger at the cat. your breath fogging up the glass and when you pulled away he could see a slight bit of lipgloss- or lip tint- or whatever you were wearing on your lips that left it all glossy and shimmery left on the window.

he didnt say anything about it. he probably shouldve. you left the window dirty with your makeup. the same lips he imagined himself kissing from to time.

he thinks again. gun is a selfish man. when he read the letter you gave him, he thinks to himself for a far longer period of time than what he would appreciate.

he picks up the small camera you left behind in your apartment. he kept it with him for some reason. it was to keep videos and photos of yourself so he wont forget all of the times hes had with you.

"gun stop! stop! stop- what in the world happened here?!" your voice can be heard from behind the camera. the camera work a bit shaky as you walk closer to the restaurant.

there were a lot of bodies on the floor. a lot. "did you take them all down by yourself?" you ask him. you already knew the answer. he didnt need to respond but he did "yes"

you let out a deep sigh "this was supposed to be a cute video! you just ruined it. i wanted to send my mom and dad videos of me while im still here!"

you never sent it. he almost wished you did. so your parents knew what your friends were in korea. gangsters hanging out with the most.. sane one. sane is a strong word. hed think more like you were the glue.

you held everyone together, but at the same time. you were the one keeping them in the past.

that wasnt what he thought as he read your note though.

while he reading the shaky lines with splotchy text. the tears you left on the paper made it all crumbly and the words were hard to read.

he could only wish you the worst time without him. you better not be happier than you were with him. thats how you made him feel. he felt like the vines growing around the fence around you. his growth was hindered by the boundaries you had. if you werent there, he wouldve probably never grown in the first place, but you were also the reason he couldnt get better.

even as he read the lines 'jongun, you are the one who destroyed me the most.' he felt a small smile come to his face. he really is the most selfish person he knew.

sooooo... im here. I DID THE SECONDPARTY YIPPEE 😋😋 is it messy idk

i havent proof read so im assuming its ok. if its ooc mb brother.

their personalities are hard to capture anyways live laufh love the lookism blondes <3 the hottest in the game frl

[mimez-meme]

Aizawa headcanons!🖤💤 (sorry if any mistakes, erasermic?)

Not bothered by temperature. Wears baggy clothes even in hot weather unless he literally cannot stand it.

Has like little notes in his office of things eri likes so he always has some kind of idea of what gifts to get her

He purposely coughs whenever someone is smoking near him.

Whenever someone tells a really unfunny joke he either does a fake little laugh and then just a blank face after and stare at them for a bit, or he just stares at them with a blank face.

Downloaded tiktok to monitor his students but he secretly watches those ai cat vids/cat vids in general, sometimes shows them to eri

Once showed up to class with a bunch of plasters because eri kept saying he had ‘boo boos’

Type of dude to have the same dinner for days

He has loads of photos of random shit. Like a bunch of accidental photos.

Got the yellow sleeping bag thing because it reminded him of hizashi

As a kid he was neglected and his parents just wasn’t rlly the best but when he was like 14-15 his grandparents got custody over him and they started to look after him

10% Korean, 25% German

Owns some present mic merch

Aromantic and gay. Only had/has feelings for hizashi.

Says the most offensive shit then just says “no offence tho.”

When he’s in a meeting or whatever if he finds it boring he would yawn really loudly but then just act like nothing happened. But if someone points it out he’d be like “don’t blame it on me. Blame it on my instincts.” But if he doesn’t do that he will look really bored, like you tell by his face.

Doesn’t like fizzy drinks or like any sweet drinks. Doesn’t like any cold food either like ice cream.. ice lollies ect.

Sometimes when he can’t sleep he’ll listen to present mics radio show. Though he’ll never admit that.

He genuinely thought his students didn’t like him until the war started and they protected him the best he could, he even cried a bit over it.

He hugs a pillow to sleep sometimes, it oddly brings him comfort. In his sleeping bag he has a mini cat plushie.

If he sees himself in a kid in any way he will make sure they get help or he will help them. He hates seeing himself in a kid and he most definitely doesn’t want a kid to feel to same as he did as a kid.

Opened his own cat shelter not to far from his house, he goes there after work a lot and helps around.

Whenever there’s a sunset he takes pictures as he likes to think it’s oboro making the sky pretty for him and others.

Even now he views himself as weak. He ‘knows’ he can’t save everyone but what purpose does he serve if he can’t save everybody? And as hizashi couldn’t do much as kids when he was overworking himself, whenever he catches him overworking now he always stops him but aizawa gets mad

He loves omelets, has omelets every day for breakfast. He believes breakfast is the only meal you really need, but ofc hizashi is trying to help him eat more

He likes reading and getting lost in it. Imagining himself in that world. Its another way he escapes reality

Always has the news on/listening to it somehow, at home he has the tv running, at work, radio or headphones ect (he only doesn’t listen when he knows he shouldn’t or can’t, like in meetings, when he’s teaching ect)

As a kid for Halloween he would just lurk in the complete darkness with his quick activated so people just seeing glowing red eyes people would get terrified.. he was known around his neighbourhood for doing so. He also use to do that to scare his friends.

He has injured his back and has back problems from always overworking himself (training wise) and because of his bad posture and whenever someone points out his bad posture and the fact it’s not ganna help with his back problems he just says “it’s more comfy”

Like I hc hizashi to, he has some of nemuri’s paintings in his house

Nemuri always sent aizawa cat pictures everyday (canon?) and he got use to it, after her death he still checks his phone everyday expecting a cat picture but he never gets one.. it makes him feel a bit empty inside. He looks through those pictures whenever he can and sent back a cat picture and a message saying “thank you, for everything.”

After a long hard day of work, normally on Fridays he likes to have a long chilling bath, he does the usual stuff then just relaxes.. it calms him down and he thinks about life, he thinks about oboro sometimes and he just lets himself cry if he needs to. This is something that has genuinely helped him because it’s helping him becoming one with his feelings and letting himself feel and think. (Sometimes even falls asleep)

After his grandparents death he inherited the house but he couldn’t live there for too long because the memories hurt too much, even tho they’re good memories. But when he moved he took some stuff he held dearly with him and he has them in a little box in his closet now unless it’s some kind of furniture

Kirishima reminds him of oboro. Once he accidentally called him oboro and he hated himself for that, Kirishima lowkey gets some special treatment from aizawa as-well because of the fact

Only owns two pairs of pjs

Microwave- takeout typa guy. He can’t cook, basic stuff he can but it’s not the best

he’s tried a lot of weird shit with coffee, once he heard about tea and biscuits he tried it with coffee and weirdly liked it (I haven’t tried it myself but I’m guessing it’s not that nice but🤷🏻‍♀️) and then he tried over stuff and.. blah blah blah.

If Eri does his hair he willl keep it that way for as long as he can, he doesn’t care if he looks ridiculous

whenever he’s at the beach he would just relax on a sun bed or burry himself in the sand

Gets into bar fights, tries not to but he does.. 😭

hates swimming, he was forced to learn at a young age has a bit of trauma from that

after Oboros death he developed ED (an eating disorder)

He’s still in touch with Oboros parents and sometimes goes to see them, sometimes with hizashi as-well. Oboro also has a younger sister who looks like Eri in a way and so that also encourages Aizawa to look after Eri the best he can

Makes alot of dark jokes without realising

If he doesn’t like you and you ask for a cup of coffee or whatever, he’d make it for you but purposefully spill it all over you or make it really disgusting.

He makes sure to wash his face every night and every morning

has a COLLECTION of mugs, he buys every ‘cool’ one or just every basic one. He doesn’t care.

He’s ticklish on his sides, no one except nemuri and hizashi know that

He has two tattoos since hizashi kept calling him a pussy. Hizashi however doesn’t know what tattoos he got (he got a cloud on his ankle to represent oboro but unfortunately that tattoo was on the leg he cut off and he was actually upset about that. The other tattoo he got when drunk, it’s a fucked up rose below his neck on his back?..idk how else to describe the place)

He hides things in his scarf and as a kid and he was guilty of stealing things and hiding them in his scarf (idk when he got his scarf but shut up)

His scarf was inspired by a scarf his grandad always use to wear

After the time skip he adopted eri

Has a cat lamp in his room

He hated his smile, it was one of his insecurities but after a while and when he found happiness his smile became one of the most beautiful things about him. He didn’t really know how to smile to begin with which is why he was insecure, but yeah.. now he isn’t as insecure.

Mrs joke once played ‘emo boy’ outside his house on a boombox. To this day he has no idea how she knows where he lived and he even got extra locks

On Father’s Day he got cards from most of his students and he was so confused as to why but some of them made him smile (he secretly kept them)

Mic taught him how to do up his hair.

He hates big loud dogs.

He has dreams about saving oboro and how life could of been like if he lived or if he (aizawa) died instead of oboro, once woke up crying

He loves physical touch and the simplest of touch can calm him down or bring him comfort but he isn’t really use to it. his favourite type of physical touch is probably holding hands. But ‘no one’ knows

When he saw hizashi angry for the first time (s5-s7) he was genuinely scared of him and worried on what he might do but he didn’t show it and just let him express but seeing him like that also made him realise some of his mistakes as a friend and he sometimes thinks about it all, it made him question mic a lot and himself.

He had a pat cat but it died, however he still keeps his bed, toys and blanket. He figured he should leave having pets for a while because he would be too busy, but after the time skip he got 2 cats

He knows almost nothing about hizashi’s past before UA, he doesn’t think much about it but it does concern him 

Most of the time he genuinely thinks the world would be better if he didn’t exist as if he didn’t exist some people would still be alive. (Like oboro) but after the time skip he finally stopped thinking that way as he began noticing his worth.

He does feel guilty after being too hard on the kids, as sometimes they remind them of him. He tries to not push them too hard but enough.