#nerd angsting over first friend/crush

[jungkooklover777]

𝑀𝑦 𝐻𝑒𝑟𝑜 ; clark kent / superman

summary: an office romance sounds good in theory but what happens when it goes according to theory?

pairing: fem!reader x corenswet!clark kent + journalist!reader x journalist!clark kent.

trope: office romance + coworkers to friends to lovers.

genre: fluff + some angst + slow burn romance.

warnings‼️: crude language + minor alcohol consumption + near-death experience + misogynistic remarks towards reader (from a jealous coworker who’s also a man r we surprised) + idk shit abt journalism.

word count: 11,031.

random disclaimerrr: heyy haha… heyy… how y’all doin… ik ik it took me for-fucking-ever bc in all honesty, i forgot about dat doe. & i lowk had writer's block but ITS OUT NOW SO YAYYY!! happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ �� 2025 @jungkooklover777

A knock sounds at your already open door, causing you to pause your typing and look up.

“My office in five.” Your boss and an editor-in-chief— Perry White— commands.

You send him a nod and he’s on his way back.

It was a chill day until the cloud of quiet chatter evaporated and was replaced by a thick blanket of excitement.

“What is going on out there.” You curiously mutter.

You think about entering the crowd but you decide against it as you remember your initial task.

Perry may be a fair boss but his agitation takes on several forms, you do not wanna be caught on the receiving end of it.

You knock on his door and open it.

“Alright, Kent— oh. Here she is.”

You can’t see how this ‘Kent’ guy looks but he’s definitely a little over 6 feet. His gray coat outlines the broadness and muscly look of his back.

Damn, he’s kinda big.

He turns around and the only thing you can think of is Squidward whining in frustration, Oh no, he’s hot!

His eyes are a remarkable shade of blue, a lovely bunch of black curls sit atop his head, and his skin reminds you of the nice sand accompanied by the local beach.

Kent’s sporting a pair of black framed glasses and he’s the handsomest “nerd” you’ve ever seen.

You hope your ogling isn’t obvious.

“L/n, meet Clark Kent. Kent, this is Y/n L/n.”

This Greek God of a man shakes your hand and it’s warm. So. Warm.

He smiles and goddamn it is beautiful. It’s so perfect with all his perfectly straight, perfect shade of white teeth.

AND HE HAS DIMPLES?! HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT!

“It’s nice to meet you.”

And of course, an attractive voice that matches his equally attractive face. It’s deep and confident and you’re crushing so hard on him right now.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” You calmly say.

“Get acquainted well because you’ll be showing our new guy here the ropes. Starting now.”

Your heart drops down to your ass and you retract your hand.

Of course this had to happen to you.

“Oh, okay.”

It was in fact not okay but it’s not like you had much of a choice in the matter.

You exit first and are met with so many faces outside the office. Comically, they all look away and pretend to do something important.

Now you realize why there was a crowd earlier, because of the handsome new guy.

You ask him to wait for you while you go grab some things from your desk.

“Okay, Clark—”

You’re gone for literally 1 minute and the poor guy’s already being swamped.

There’s a blonde girl, bit of a ditz. Twirling a strand of hair while giggling over something seriously unfunny.

She’s accompanied by a guy who’s much shorter in comparison to Clark.

He’s yammering away about how he’s always wondered what it’s like to be on a farm…

“I mean, I was at one for the DP but they didn’t have much internet so we couldn’t cover much. And the smell?” He shuts his eyes and wrinkles his nose in disdain. “I can’t imagine how it was for you, man.”

You watch in horror as he takes a sniff, yes; a sniff at Clark and hums, “You smell great, though! What is that, uh, aftershave. Or sum’?”.

Clark responds with a nervous laugh at his sudden proximity. “It’s Polo by Ralph Lauren. Uh, the blue one.”

“Whaaat?” The guy laughs in surprise.

Clark folds his lips inwards and raises his brows in an awkward manner.

What do you say to that? Truly.

What an idiot, you cringe internally before coming to his aid and kicking off his first day.

It’s the end of Clark Kent’s second week. He’s a great addition to the Daily Planet team and you have to say, he’s really nice.

His first few days were spent showing him around. Perry’s office, your office, the newsroom, break room, copy room, mail room, bullpen, so on and so forth.

You were sure Clark could use a better mentor but he thought otherwise. ‘You’re a good teacher, I like learning from you.’ He said.

He was very quiet at first, kept to himself and didn’t approach anyone unless he absolutely needed to.

You were the only person by his side almost every hour he worked so it made sense to just go to you.

The more you talked to him, the more he got out of his shell.

A friendly relationship blossomed and soon, he was a willing participant.

You like to drink something in the morning while you work and you didn’t realize Clark took a mental note of that.

Since your first week together, he brought you something everyday.

“As much as I appreciate this, you’re not the drink guy.”

You were worried he thought you’d expect him to do this all the time now but he denies the notion.

“Oh it’s no big deal, I pass by a cafe on my way here so it works out. Plus, I know the owner so I get a discount every time I go.”

You smile at that. This little tradition has become an essential part of your day, it’s how you start it. It’s also special to you because it’s just for you.

Your crush on him grows by the day but you can’t help it! It’s so hard not to like this guy.

He’s still a bit shy at times but you think that’s part of his charm, and he’s got you good. He’s just Clark, a sweet guy from a small town with big arms dreams.

“So, what are the plans for today?”

He asks this everyday in hopes of going on a side quest with just the two of you.

Alas, that doesn't happen nearly as much as he'd like but at least he still gets to see you whenever he likes.

“Today, we’re going to a meeting.” You answer as you quickly send out one last email.

You grab your purse and Clark brings his notebook to the conference room.

He pulls out a chair for you and you smile gratefully, whispering a ‘thank you’.

Perry and the other senior position holders make their way in and take their seats.

“Alright, let’s get started.”

Perry announces that at the end of the meeting, there will be a spot open for another editor-in-chief.

Instantly, there’s hushed chatter of who can be nominated to fill the slot.

You’re positive you hear your name among the many different routes of conversation. You don’t notice Clark glancing at you when he hears it, too.

“L/n.”

You feel everyone’s eyes on you and want to fuse with the chair you’re sitting on.

“She’s our most talked-about reporter and has been here for almost three and a half years. How she’s doing better than most of you at this table, I have no idea. Great work, Y/n.”

You purse your lips in an awkward smile at the jab towards everyone else layered between your praises. “Thank you, sir.”

Clark allows his lips to be pulled back in a small grin, unable to hide his happiness for you.

You know some people in the room are envious of you and are incapable of witnessing your success, but you’d be damned if you let them ruin this moment for you.

The rest of the meeting goes by smoothly and it’s time for Perry to announce the new editor-in-chief.

“Of course, it came as no surprise for us to come to unanimously nominate Y/n L/n as one of our new editors-in-chief.”

You know you should be happy and a small part of you is relieved that your hard work paid off, but you’re not entirely sure.

You’ve only been here for 3 and a half years and this is a huge promotion.

Are you ready for this? How do you know you’re ready? When do you know you’re ready?

You force yourself to get out of your head and express your gratitude.

“Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.” You smile as you shake their hands, accepting their approval.

You still had some time before accepting the offer but it felt like you had to take it.

The reality is: you don’t know what you want.

Most of the people leave but some stay behind.

“Congratulations, Y/n. You definitely earned it.”

Remember the envious people that were mentioned earlier? This guy— Mark Callahan— is one of them.

He sticks his hand out for you to shake but you clock his underlying tone.

“Thanks.” You smoothly move past him to the door with Clark following.

“Bitch.” He mutters to himself.

Clark stops dead in his shoes. “What did you just say?”

Mark smirks lazily and the few of his dastardly henchmen eye you with jealousy.

Your eyes are a bit wide, lips agape at his sudden change in attitude. “Clark..?”

This is Clark Kent. The shy, dorky, kind of an aloof guy with long legs, a killer smile, and a nice heart.

You never thought he could get mad. You haven’t even see him annoyed up until this very moment.

Mark takes a step towards you but Clark is quick to get in between you and him.

He pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek and chuckles. “Relax, man. I’m not gonna hurt your little girlfriend.”

Clark steps forward, his height giving him the upper hand as Mark’s ego forces him to maintain eye contact, even if he has to tilt his chin up a bit.

“You couldn’t even try.” He softly yet subtly mocks.

Mark tightens his jaw and you can feel the tension growing.

You tentatively reach out and put a hand on Clark’s shoulder. “We need to go.”

He maintains eye contact with Mark for a moment longer before budging and walking out.

Clark’s jaw is set and you see the faintest twitch of the muscle, his face stern and hand sweeping his curls.

He holds the elevator for you and you gulp nervously.

“What… was that?” You dare ask.

He assures you it's nothing but you can feel the intensity of his annoyance radiating off of him. It fills the elevator when you step in.

You don't know how badly his blood boils at the thought of someone being so casually disrespectful towards you.

His hands were clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. He forcefully wipes his hands on his trousers and tries to cool down.

You let that go but can’t let go of how badly he gave you the butterflies.

You couldn’t even try.

That part replays in your mind.

It was the way he said it, like he was so sure of himself.

He was obviously putting Mark in his place but for you? He did that for you?

Your lips fold inwards to conceal the squeal (read: scream) that's begging to be released.

As the elevator arrives at your floor, Clark extends his arm for you to get out first then follows you out.

Chivalry isn’t dead?!

You don’t know much longer you can contain yourself.

“Hey, Y/n?” Clark calls out.

You swiftly turn around on your heels. “Yeah?”

He stares at you for a moment, like he’s gathering his thoughts carefully.

He has so much he wants to say. Every time you thank him for bringing you your morning drink, he wants to say, you deserve nothing but the best. He wishes to say how beautiful you look everyday, how smart you are when you're feeling doubtful.

Instead, he holds it all in and says something a friend would say. It doesn't mean anything less to you, he knows that. So he says something so kind, it leaves you with heart eyes.

“You deserve that promotion.”

In all the time you’ve spent here, not many people have said anything like to you.

There’s the fake compliments said out of spite. You’ve already gathered a mental list of who fits that category.

Then come the words of encouragement, said by a select few genuine people. Perry and your best friend, Lois are— were the only members of this group.

Clark being an addition to this list is obvious, it was only a matter of time, but it means so much coming from him.

You blink and feel lightweight.

“Thank you.”

He gives you that award-winning smile you love seeing so much and is on his way to work.

You feel distracted as you work, smiling like an idiot every now and then when his words ring in your mind.

You deserve that promotion.

Resting your head in your palm with your elbow extended in a comfortable position, you sigh dreamily; staring blankly at your loading computer screen.

“L/n.”

You immediately straighten your back and set both hands on the keyboard, suddenly irritated with how slow the network on your computer is.

“Sir?” You acknowledge him by poking your head out from behind the screen.

“Good work on the Stenson article,” He shows the newspaper bundled in his hand. “It’s gotten Star’s attention.”

You’re impressed with yourself. “Oh.”

He angles his head down to where he can see you through the space above his glasses. “You okay?”

You nod in a way that is more convincing yourself of what you’re saying than him. “Mhm. Just, uh… surprised because they’re our rivals.”

Knowing The Daily Star has its eye on you is a bit unnerving but what kind of opps would they be if they didn’t.

He hums in thought. “Well, I thought I’d stop by and let you know.”

“Right. Thanks.”

You track his movements until you’re sure he’s gone and smack some sense into yourself.

“Focus, Y/n. Focus.”

You are invited to attend a conference in Washington, D.C. along with a few handpicked journalists.

As you await for the plane's landing, your mind wanders back to the new guy. You wish Clark could’ve came.

You just think he would’ve had so much to learn and experience, nothing else…

A rattle echoing through the jet brings you out of your thoughts.

The captain makes an announcement but you feel like something’s off.

It’s the reporter in you, a 6th sense.

Another shake and now everyone’s a bit nervous, worried looks painted across their faces and yours.

You open the flap to your window and see nothing but soot. Dark gray matter surrounds the jet and it’s so thick, you can’t see past it.

You start to smell it soon and so does everyone else.

“What’s that smell?”

“It smells like… like smoke?

“Is something burning?”

The captain makes an announcement telling you to not to panic but of course that ironically makes everyone panic.

Oxygen masks drop down and you don’t waste any time grabbing yours but the dread spreads all over you when you take a deep breath in.

Suddenly, the jet jolts forward and it feels like you’re diving into something. It’s going headfirst into the direction of the ground so quickly and you can’t make sense of anything.

The passengers frantically scream and descend into chaotic paranoia as they hold on to dear life. Your heart pounds in your chest, threatening to jump out.

This is it, you think. This is how it ends for you: in a freak accident.

You close your eyes in fear and hope the impact crushes you so quickly, you don’t feel any of it.

A quick and easy death is a death that is most favorable.

Suddenly, you feel the aircraft being lifted up. The speed of which is swift yet steady, unlike the previous moments when it felt like you were falling to your deaths.

You don’t dare look out your window in fear of it all being a figment of your imagination but someone else does.

“We’re… we’re saved.” Someone calmly informs.

The plane is set down on the ground and the doors open up automatically.

Your eyes widen when you see a man in a blue suit and red cape step onboard.

He’s kind-looking. The steely blue eyes somewhat familiar, maybe it’s his aura.

“It’s alright, everything’s okay.” He smiles and you’re taken aback with how eerily familiar the action is.

“Is everyone alright? Nobody hurt?”

Everyone shakes their head simultaneously as if in a trance, left and right.

He nods in consideration. “That’s good. You all can step out now, it’s safe.”

Nobody moves. No one can! They’re still trying to wrap their heads around this miracle.

There’s this man— in a cape, no less— and he’s asking if everyone’s okay from what could’ve happened.

There’s no doubt in your mind that somehow, he is singlehandedly responsible for saving you all.

Someone in front dares to speak everyone’s mind. “You saved us.” They say as they make their way to him.

The mystery man looks at the passenger with a humble look.

He puts a comforting hand on their shoulder and escorts them out, everyone else following suit.

Everyone else but you. You’re frozen in a whirlwind of emotions, mostly shock.

You’re so out of it that you don’t even notice him coming up to you, his striking blue eyes steady on your form.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

You whip your head up at him and realize you’re the only one onboard the plane.

“Umm, yeah. I-I think.” You furrow your eyebrows as you feel your foot stuck in a comatose position.

“Can you stand?” He gently asks.

You go to stand up from seat when a sharp pain shoots through your ankle.

A quick breath is drawn from your teeth and he notices immediately.

“Your ankle.”

“Yup.” You hastily grit out.

He looks at you in contemplation for a moment before doing what he has to do.

“Do you mind if I carry you out?”

You pause your unsteady breathing and look up at him through your lashes.

I didn’t hear that.

“Uhh…”

There is a right answer but you don’t know if it’s the answer.

He’s strikingly handsome, so unfairly dashing.

He’s looking at you with those kind eyes and waiting patiently for your word.

“No. No, I don’t mind.” You clear your throat gingerly.

The soft curve of his lips make you feel a bit at ease for a moment.

He holds his hand out for you to take and gently pulls you into him when you do, wrapping that arm around your back. He bends down to hook his other arm under your knees and lifts you so effortlessly, you feel yourself swoon at his display of strength.

Your brain goes quiet and you can’t think about anything else but him. You’re starstruck by him.

Is this a bad time?

He looks straight ahead as he walks towards the open doors but the slight curve of his lips gives the impression of a soft smile.

Soft gasps and wide eyes paint the picture of surprise and you’re immediately flushed so deeply into embarrassment.

The man holding you doesn’t say anything but he silently shares your opinion.

As he walks down the ramp, you look anywhere but at him and the very obvious audience in front.

The symbol on his chest catches your eye and you’re analyzing it. It appears to be a red diamond encasing a capital letter of the same color, an ‘S’.

You wonder what it stands for, what it means to him.

People make room for him as he walks to a spot where you can comfortably rest.

You can feel everyone’s eyes on you and it bothers the hell out of you, but you bear with it for the moment.

He finds a bench within the stagnant ocean of people and sets you down on it, an apologetic expression framing his face.

“I’m sorry.”

You peer up at him in surprise. “For what?”

He sets his hands on his hips, subtly tilting his head to the left and you see behind him the wandering eyes and gossipy mouths.

You snort softly, shaking your head lightly at their antics.

“It’s not your fault. They’re just… trying to figure out what just happened.”

He nods, turning back to the plane with a determined look.

“The ambulance is on its way.” He says as he turns back to you.

You nod, not wanting to look away from his eyes.

The air is thick with so many unanswered questions left unasked, but your throbbing ankle takes a backseat to it all.

This man is a miracle in the flesh and he’s filled your mind with so much curiosity, you don’t know what to do with it.

“You’re gonna be alright.” He says it with such confidence that you believe him.

And he’s gone, flying upwards into the air and in a direction one can only point to.

People crowd the spot he just stood in and stare up in awe at the phenomenon: a man just flew right to the sky!

What a headache and headline this is going to be.

Your ankle was as swollen as an orange, thankfully like the ones that are really small and are known as ‘Cuties’ or whatever the hell.

There's a brace on it to keep from hurting as much but the swelling's still got a long way to go.

You're currently icing it as much as you can before it falls off when you hear a knock on your window.

You hold your breath and lean ahead a little, trying to hone in on the knock truly being real or a part of your imagination.

It's when you hear it again that you decide, nope, totally real.

You move slowly, setting the ice pack on your dresser before carefully moving your leg and setting your foot down on the floor.

Eventually, you make it to your window and look through the blinds to see what could be causing that noise.

You softly gasp. “Holy shit.”

It's the guy from earlier, the same man who may or may not have saved your life. But he's floating, literally standing on air.

You pull your blinds all the way up and open your window, not hiding the shock on your face as you stare at him dumbfounded.

He titters softly, finding your reaction amusing.

“Can I come in?”

You wordlessly step aside with your mouth slightly agape, not really grasping the gravity of the situation.

He flies right into your bedroom while you budge the window back down and close the blinds.

With his back turned against you, you take this chance to make yourself look more put together. Your hands find their way into your hair and subconsciously pat down your body to press the fabric of your clothes as flatly as possible.

He’s studying your room and now you’re even more self-conscious even though it’s relatively tidy.

“I’m sorry for showing up here unannounced.” He says as he turns around to face you. “I hope I don't come off as a stalker.” He snorts softly.

You laugh along, nervous. “I was just icing it before...” You trail off, making a gesture towards the window.

He nods, clicking his teeth. “Ah, right. Sorry, once again.”

You shake your head. “No, don’t be. It’s okay.”

You move to sit back down on your bed and continue icing your ankle.

“You left your purse.”

He reveals the black purse to you and you gasp at the revelation, so relieved as you thought you were going crazy looking for it.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you so much.” You say as he chuckles softly and hands you your purse.

“No, don’t thank me. Just doing what’s right.”

Something about his words makes you pause. The familiar syntax reminds you of someone who’d do what he just did.

You don’t even look inside to see everything in order because oddly enough, you trust it is.

Your grin makes the man in front of you feel strangely victorious.

“Not many would do what’s right.”

He squints his eyes and tilts his head to the side, as if to disagree. “I think we all deserve a little grace every now and then.”

“You have faith in humanity?”

You don’t mean to start a conversation about the moral dilemma of being human but his response intrigues you.

“I do.” He answers with such confidence that you believe him.

“At least that makes one of us.” You look back down at your hands applying pressure to the pain.

“Why don’t you?” He asks with genuine wonder.

You tilt your head at him, intrigued. “Are you really asking me that?” You squint your eyes playfully. “I’m an investigative reporter. I’ve seen and heard things that have made me come close to quitting.”

“Why haven’t you then?” He cheekily asks with a smirk of his own.

You're taken aback with his playful wit exuding a flirty vibe.

You'll bite.

“Because even though my job can be draining, I still love what I accomplish.”

He's delighted with your reasoning, appreciating your love for the game.

“Well said.” He nods.

You tilt your head up, the reporter in you wanting to talk to him more.

“Your turn.”

He raises an eyebrow at your proposed question.

“What do you do?” You ask.

He clicks his teeth lightly. “Well, you’ve seen me fly. I can hear well over the distance and lift very heavy things, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He knows that’s not what you’re asking, you know he knows that.

You smile, shaking your head at his quips. “As in your occupation, Mr..?”

He stands with a knowing smile. “I’ll tell you next time.”

You blink, startled by his suggestion. “Next time?”

He walks towards your window and you follow, opening it for him.

“Until next time, miss L/n.” He says with a wink,

And he's gone.

You're left staring at his fantastic display of power, soaring into the night sky before he disappears into the clouds.

You've never been this fascinated with anything before, but he isn't “anything” or “anyone”. He's a phenomenon, man with great power.

You don't see that often.

You wonder who he really is, where has he been all this time? What's his story?

So many questions, so little time but you'll hold him to that promise of a next time.

“Next time.” You murmur in confidence that he'll find you again.

Lois enters your office with a particular pep in her step, a knowing smile on her lips as she sees you.

You don’t look up from your work as you know there’s nobody else that can enter your office that way. (even perry knocks, lois)

“Sooo?” She asks, strangely enthusiastic.

“So.” You reply uninterested, flipping through pages.

She stares at you like you know what she’s talking about before bombarding you with questions.

“Who is he? What’s he like? Where's he from—? Wait, he’s human, right?”

Your eyes widen just a fraction before you dial it down.

You can't tell anybody about your encounter with him. At least not until you've had some questions answered.

A hurried breath is pushed past your lips, your eyebrows furrowing in annoyance at your friend’s prying form.

“No comment.” You say plainly, not indulging her.

Clark walks by with a new drink of the day and sets it down on your desk, a sweet smile on his face.

“For you.”

You know those certain people who just have you on automatic smile as soon as you see them? He's quickly becoming that person for you.

“You are such a nice guy, Clark.” Lois shakes her head in amazement.

She can't believe men like him do, in fact, exist.

That causes a noticeable blush to coat the tips of his ears and spread thinly across his cheeks.

He's humble. “I appreciate that Lois.”

This tradition is a declaration of friendship, a bond he claims to regard just as much as you do.

A sip of it simultaneously warms your heart and reawakens the butterflies lying dormant in your stomach.

“I agree.” You softly smile. “You’re committed to keeping up with this.”

He looks down and pushes his glasses up with an index finger, clicking his teeth together shyly. “Well, I’m no guy in a cape.”

There he goes downplaying his efforts and staying humble, as usual.

“How’s your ankle?” He asks as he eyes it.

You look down like you just remembered. “Oh, yeah, it’s fine. The swelling’s gone down a lot so I’m good to come back.”

Lois watches the news on one of the tv’s in the room play a clip someone managed to record of said guy fly up into the air, departing with a sonic boom.

She leans into Clark a bit, looking straight at the tv with that same damned topic on her mind. “Clark, do you think he’s handsome?”

He clears his throat lightly, sniffing as he tries to figure out how to answer that wild question. “Well, I— uhh… um— he’s, he’s… conventionally attractive.” His tone gets pitchy at the end, like he's asking, not telling.

“Lois.” You sigh.

“What? He’s so cute guys, I don’t know why no one else is talking about it.”

You take a peek at Clark and find quite a bit of blood rushing to his face.

“Clark, are you alright?”

“Huh— yeah. Yeah, no, I-I’m good! I’m fine, it’s just uhh… hot.” He nods, trying to look convincing.

Lois doesn’t miss a beat. “He’s hot.”

“Oh my god.” You groan.

“No, like, seriously.”

And it’s your fault for knowing how serious she is.

“Do you guys think he’d go for me?”

“Oh, yeah. For sure.” You nod with a fake smile. “He’d be all over you.”

She bursts out laughing, her focus on the poor guy in your midst. “He’s as red as his cape.”

You turn your head to see and it’s true, he’s super red in the face and just refuses to make eye contact.

“I’m just gonna go… do that thing Perry wanted.” He sends you girls a quick nod and smile before basically running out of y’all’s presence.

You watch him go and find his vulnerability endearing. He’s not afraid to show his feelings but like in typical Clark fashion, gets a little embarrassed when he does.

She purses her lips apologetically.

You shake your head at her. “Lois, if you were a man...” You raise your eyebrows and push air out in yet another sigh.

She takes your lack of words as a sign to contemplate the idea, then says, “You’d be my first target.” with a nod and serious look.

“Get out.”

You hadn’t anticipated your savior to be the subject of fascination so soon. Later on in the afternoon, in fact.

“L/n, you’re a firsthand witness. What do you think?”

Everyone’s eyes are on you as they wait for you to tell your story. You haven’t felt this nervous since your interview with this place.

You clear your throat a bit, feeling your nerves on fire.

“I believe he stopped the plane from crashing.”

You don’t need to be a telepath to know what they’re all thinking: you’re fucking crazy.

Of course, that’s an impossible thing to do but not everyone in this room was there.

“You think… he was responsible for saving everyone that day?” Perry asks, intrigued by your line of reasoning.

“Yes. He opened the doors and immediately asked if everyone was alright and if anyone was injured.”

A few people murmur in doubt but you continue.

“I sprained my ankle somehow and he offered to help me off and took me to an area where I could wait for an ambulance.”

They eye your gloved ankle, unimpressed. (it’s not like you’re here to knock their socks off anyway)

“He helped you off the jet? How?” Someone asks.

“He, um… carried me out.” You quietly say.

The atmosphere shifts and you can really feel and see just how shell-shocked everyone is.

“He carried you out?!”

“As in, in his arms? You were carried out in his arms..?”

You immediately jump to your defense. “I’m not sure why and, or how that matters.”

They’re incredulously adamant about it. “How come? You’ve not only had a conversation but also came into close contact with him—”

“And that’s where your focus lies?” Perry cuts in.

You look at him in thanks and he nods in acknowledgment.

“I dunno.” A board member sighs. “Some mysterious, muscular man coming to save the helpless woman story won’t run headlines.”

You scoff in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

Perry feels a headache coming on.

“You asked about my encounter and I told you. I’m not here to be a headline.”

The man who thought of that “brilliant” idea is coated in embarrassment, feeling annoyed at receiving the heat.

“Anyone have any useful ideas?” Your boss asks with his thumbs pressing down on his temple.

There’s some chatter about this man and how he managed to save the plane, if he did. Some even discuss if he’s capable of being a potential threat to the country.

“You’re dismissed.” Perry says with a pointed look.

You leave with your head down and jaw tight, coming to sight with Mark.

“Excuse me.” You drop the hint of ignoring him but he doesn’t care.

“Going somewhere?” He asks with a smug expression.

You still push past him with him only to turn around and tail you.

“Yeah. Some of us have jobs to do.”

You don’t care how you look and/or sound.

You just got reduced a damsel-in-distress by a board member while your boss ignored him. Granted, he stuck up for you when it came time but he also dismissed you like you weren’t needed anymore.

Mark pokes a tongue into his cheek, his frustration with you at its boiling point. “And what’s yours? Playing hooky with Superman?”

You don’t know whether to be offended or question the ridiculous choice of name for the man, first.

You choose the first option as it’s the most relevant.

“What did you just say to me?”

He smirks like he just found a pressure point on you. He takes a step closer. “You heard me.”

He actually thinks he's got you this time.

“What, got nothin' to say now that Kent isn't here to save you?”

All that annoyance you were feeling just know? Yeah, that's amplified by a thousand now that he brought that up.

“I can stick up for myself, and I definitely won’t take any shit from you.” You spite. “If I took that promotion back then, you would’ve been fired and on your ass in less than a minute.”

You're pulling rank but it isn't rage-bait if it's true.

He's seething now. A vein protrudes from his forehead and he inhales deeply to try to keep himself together as much as possible.

“Oh, I know how you got that promotion.” He spits that venom so carelessly with the most malicious intent.

You squint your eyes in suspected belief.

Mark continues his verbal assault.

“Yeah,” He nods. “It wasn't that hard to figure out why the old man favors you so much.”

You were right, it had been what you were thinking.

The envy in him has always given off a strong stench, he literally gives the evil eye to those better than him in every way possible.

At your loss of words and hurt expression, he smirks before delivering what he thinks is the final blow. “I’m willing to bet you slept your way to the top.”

In this very moment, you realize you don’t have to listen to his shit any longer.

Your strike his face, open-handed; hard. A powerful smack resulting in a red handprint on his blanched face.

The ear on that side of his face rings piercingly loud and in his disoriented state, nearly collapses onto the floor.

A chorus of sharp gasps and sound grimaces snap you out of the adrenaline-fueled rage consuming you.

It seems that you’ve gathered quite a crowd of spectators. The horrified look on your face isn't nearly enough to convince your innocence to anyone just joining now joining in.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Perry's voice booms.

You shakily inhale, meeting his accusing gaze and you watch as he tracks a path between you and Mark writhing on the floor.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at his pathetic acting.

“Get in here. Right. Now.”

With your chin up, you walk right past the whimpering mess on the floor; your heel almost crunching his fingers if it weren't for his reaction time.

You know you shouldn't be the one to feel embarrassed but there's still a part of you that does.

After all that you've put into this place, some overzealous, whiny little piece of shit wants to humiliate you by attempting to slutshame? In this day and age?

You huff in exasperation of being on your way to overstimulation by the very quick turn of events.

You're already sat when Mark comes in and Perry shuts the door, but not before yelling at everyone to get back to work.

You feel your victim to your far right, not wanting to sit down.

“Sit down, Mark.” Perry says before looking at him quizzically. “And why are your hands covering only one side of your face?”

You bite back an explanation and a smirk.

Mark doesn't say anything but instead opts to show, he drops both hands hesitantly to his sides.

Perry's reaction is nothing short of priceless. He thinks about exclaiming but when side-eyeing you and carefully assessing your careless reaction, he clocks it.

“I was counting on you being bitch-slapped one of these days but I was not expecting you to be dumb enough to try her.” He dryly chuckles in half admiration and half disappointment.

“Sir? You're actually siding with her right now?”

You close your eyes and mentally prepare to be fired.

Perry’s expression is that of a Don’t try me and Mark actually takes it seriously this time.

Wonder what’s the difference in you giving him that look and Perry…

“What happened, L/n?”

You open your eyes nervously and take a breath, preparing yourself to speak your truth.

“I slapped him… because he accused me of sleeping my way to the top for the promotion.”

There’s about a few seconds of silence before Perry speaks up.

“What.” He just says but it’s his tonal shift that makes Mark sweat.

“W-well, I just said that in the heat of the moment.” He chuckles nervously. “I didn’t mean that—”

Perry pinches the bridge of his nose to try to calm himself down. “I have no tolerance for this kind of behavior, Callahan. You know that.”

Said boy clears his throat and sniffs. “Y-yes sir, I do—”

“Then why did you do it?” Perry’s eyes bore into his with such intensity, it makes you a bit uneasy as well.

Mark opens and closes his mouth trying to come up with an answer to that obviously rhetorical question like a fish.

At his lack of words, your boss scratches his forehead. “Here’s an easier one: what did you think you were accomplishing by demeaning her character like that?”

Still no answer.

He puts a finger on Mark's chest, pressing into it as he says, “I’ll tell you. She is your superior because she, unlike you, gets it. She gets this job, what it means to be a reporter.”

His condescending tone towards the other male isn't unheard of but it sure as hell surprises you a lot.

Mark tightens his jaw and turns his head to look at you in malice. “With all due respect, sir, you should understand why I said that.”

“I don’t have to understand a goddamn thing.” His gruff voice reverberates through the walls, causing you to straighten your back.

Perry then carefully and slowly says, “Get the fuck outta here, you’re fired.”.

Mark dares to speak up even now. “But, sir—”

“Right now!” The older man barks his orders and like the sad little puppy Mark is, follows one last time.

When he leaves, Perry sighs and turns to sit down in his chair. He pours himself a drink, offering one to you.

You stare at him wearily before declining but he pours you a drink, anyway.

He silently takes a sip, prompting you to do the same and you feel the smooth, mellow taste of Brandy.

He groans, satisfied with the drink.

You set your glass down, feeling your nerves becoming slightly undone by the aftertaste.

It’s momentarily quiet, the awkward silence now comfortable.

You’re the first to break it. “Am I being fired?”

This is apparently funny to him because he laughs. Yes, he wheezes before giving in to the chest-laugh every man his age has.

You awkwardly chuckle along, not knowing if that's the right move.

He sighs in satisfaction once more.

“Y/n,” He begins warmly. “I can't fire you after that shitshow.”

Anyone else would think that statement was made in fear of being seen as an asshole who doesn't stand in solidarity with women but not you.

Perry White can put on a show of being a bitter old man but now's not one of those times.

“You did what you had to do and since I'm being honest,” He leans in a little like he's about to share a secret. “I'm glad you gave me a reason to kick his ass out.”

That brings a soft smile on your face, one that expresses your gratitude.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“Most bosses wouldn't give a fuck.” The word rolls off your tongue with such smoothness, you forgot to code switch.

He takes no mind and instead lets you talk informally, he gathers you deserve that much.

“I'm not most bosses.” He wittily replies with a wink and tight-lipped smile.

“No, you are not.” You say with an appreciative nod.

You ignore everyone that didn't need your help for the remainder of the day.

As Mark took the walk of shame, it made you feel a little better when you saw people who you've never spoken to give him dirty looks and shake their head at him in disapproval.

Even though he got at least half of what he deserved, you still felt the aftermath of his words. They stung and it just made you think, how many other people feel that way?

You drowned yourself in work, you felt as if you're now obligated to work twice as hard.

Then you hear him.

“Y/n?”

You move your head from your hand and look up above your computer, spotting no other than your trusty colleague and friend.

“Clark, hey. What’re you doing here?”

“Hey, I was just about to ask you that.” He says with a boyish smile and points at you.

You smile back instinctually. “I'm just finishing up some stuff, meeting deadlines.”

“Ah.” He nods.

You eye the time and decide to save what you have left, planning to resume tomorrow.

“I was doing the same.”

You put on your jacket and grab your purse, walking out with him.

“This late?”

Poor guy, you hope he doesn't have a workload as big as yours if he's staying until almost 2 am.

“Yeah.” Clark sighs tiredly. “Perry gave me Mark's last assignment.”

You pause locking your office door, not expecting that answer.

Clark pretends not to notice.

As you enter the elevator (before clark, of course), you make light conversation.

“So ready to go home to my bed.” You tip your head back close your eyes, letting yourself rest for a moment.

“For real, I was about to fall asleep at my desk if it wasn’t for you.”

Both of your eyes open. “What do you mean?”

“I thought I was the only person here but then I saw your lamplight on so, I figured why not fight it for as long as I can.”

Had he stayed this long for you?

“Clark…”

You feel guilty and why wouldn’t you? He was basically waiting on you to call it in and stood by the entire time.

“It’s okay! No harm done.” He insists.

He was actually meaning to go home the same time you were, so he could talk to you.

He knows how pathetic that sounds but he'd rather be a pathetic man with a crush, even if that sounds elementary.

Instead, he opts on telling a half truth. “I needed the extra hours anyway.”

You turn to face him. “You did?”

Uh oh. He wasn’t supposed to say that.

Stupid sleep-deprived brain making him say things he’s not supposed to.

“Yeah, cause my research and work ethic is different from Mark’s.” He purses his lips and nods lightly.

Though he may look confident on the outside, he’s freaking out on the inside.

What was he supposed to say, the truth? Yeah, I was out late saving the planet one country at a time. That kind of stuff tends to get tiring if I have to wake up on time, ha ha ha.

He hopes you believe him and don’t inquire any further so he won't have to come up with another lie.

You hum before yawning lightly. “Makes sense.”

Clark watches you cover your mouth with the back of your hand and notices how you close your eyes when you yawn.

He also notes that you're really comfortable around him. You don't think twice about saying certain things in front of him.

He likes being the reason you let your guard down, he does the same around you.

You can see him staring into the side of your face so you turn your head, meeting his warm yet intimidating stare.

Your lips automatically purse into the friendliest awkward smile you have and he returns the sentiment.

You both then look away simultaneously. You look up at the countdown whereas he looks down on the shining metallic floor.

There’s still 25 more floors to go before you meet the garage parking lot.

The atmosphere grows a little awkward but is forgiven as there’s a shared understanding: you’re both fucking exhausted.

Though, there is something Clark wants to talk to you about.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

He hesitates for a moment, his mouth opening then closing as he thinks about how to bring this topic up.

“I heard about what happened.”

You slowly turn your head to him wordlessly, waiting for him to continue.

He stares back at you and you notice how blue his eyes look under fluorescent light.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, affected by the outburst as anyone else who gave a damn.

You’re touched.

“You don’t have to apologize, Clark.” You say as you look down at your shoes, suddenly growing shy of his eyes.

“I know,” He says. “But I care.”

The sentiment doesn't go unnoticed. Your lips turn up appreciatively.

“I know that as a woman, I'll be undermined at times but that was seriously a low blow.” You vent. “Even for him.”

Your disappointment isn't hard to assess. Even though you knew he'd be the one to say something like that, you still would've liked to be proven wrong.

Clark feels for you, you shouldn't have to feel alienated by your colleagues.

“I'm sorry nobody spoke up. I would have.”

“I know.” You say. “Thanks, Clark.”

“Of course. Anytime.”

You think about how nice it is of Clark to say this but you’re reminded of his absence prior.

“Where were you today, by the way. I barely saw you.”

He lies straight through his teeth. “I was out running some errands.”

He was actually stopping a country from getting actively bombed but that’s a story for another time.

“Perry still giving you the Miranda treatment?”

He chortles at your reference. “What can I say, I make a great Andrea.”

“You do. Who’s your Emily?”

You both take a moment to think about this.

“I got nothin’.” You say.

Clark agrees, although he’s come up with an alternative approach.

“There’s Mark, but he’s more Emily to your Andrea.”

You make a motion to wrap your hands around your neck and pretend to choke yourself.

It gets a good laugh out of him.

You blow a soft raspberry. “I just want my Nate. Without the “I'm insecure and feeling jealous because my partner is having it better” part.”

You look up at him and say without thinking, “You’d make a great Nate.”

You’re so tired, very exhausted from the day taking a toll on you, which explains why you’re just saying random shit.

Clark feels hot, like his whole face is on fire. He chuckles bashfully, very obviously failing at trying to not let that affect him so much.

The elevator dings and you both look up, finding the doors to open and reveal the garage parking lot.

“So, what do you mean by that? Exactly.” He furrows his brows and pushes his glasses up.

You step out, feeling all of your nerves turn to ice as you realize the weight of your words. “Oh, you know. You'd be a supporting and secure boyfriend.”

He's stumped, left watching as you walk to your car.

You wave goodbye before getting into your car and he returns the gesture.

You turn to face him, walking backwards. “Good night, Clark.”

He feels the blood wash over his heart like the ocean returning to shore.

“Good night.” He murmurs fondly.

“Dude, this is a terrible idea.” Jimmy scolds. “Your worst one yet, and you barely have those!”

But Clark isn’t listening, he’s already made his mind up.

“If I like her as a man then I have to respect her as Superman.”

Okay, that was a bar, Jimmy concedes.

“Besides, she wouldn’t tell anyone.” Clark adds.

Of course you wouldn't tell anyone about Clark’s identity, he knows that.

“I know that,” Jimmy sighs. “But think of your relationship with her as Superman from a journalistic standpoint.”

Jimmy just wants the best for his best man, he wants Clark to really think about this. l

“She won’t let her bias for you stop her from doing her job, even if that means asking questions you can’t answer directly.”

Diving headfirst into something like a romantic relationship without going over the logistics is bound to crash and burn.

But it’s you, the same woman who understands him. You see him, know him. You’re not one to hide how comforted you feel when he’s around, he literally hears your heart rate when he dotes on you.

You must feel the same way. Right?

But how would you react to this? Would you still feel the same? Would you still view him as the same Clark who goes out of his way for you?

After some careful consideration, Clark comes to a conclusion.

“Okay.” He says.

Jimmy closes his eyes in relief, sighing at the fact that his friend chose his mind over his heart.

“I’m going to tell her everything.”

Jimmy slaps a palm across his forehead all wide-eyed, not believing he got bamboozled this way.

He now has to watch his best friend throw everything away for the ruzz (reporter huzz).

Clark feels a weight lifted from his chest at this decision. He's always wanted to tell you but his moral obligation was to this planet, regardless of what heart entails.

He walks to your office, stopping just before the door to check on his appearance. He moves his head to the side, inspecting his hair. He then fixes his tie and glasses.

Satisfied with himself, he knocks and waits for your approval.

“Come in.”

Clark pokes his head in comically.

Your eyes flit up and when you see him, giggle at his silliness. “Hey, you.”

His chest warms at the sight and sound of your delight.

You seem so easygoing, truly content when you smile or laugh. Do you know that?

His takes in your face.

Your hair shines from the light, cascading down your shoulders and framing your it nicely.

Your eyes are on him and every time you look at him, he feels as though he can tell you anything. And though they're beautiful, his favorite part about your face have to be your lips.

You're a very expressive person so your words and reactions make up everything about you.

He loves seeing them pull you into a smile and laugh, especially when he's the reason.

It’s like a reward, seeing you joyful because of him.

He's momentarily distracted by the sight, always on the verge of forgetting his objective as soon as your pretty lips move around.

You say his name like you're in the middle of something.

He blinks, shaking himself out of his daydream. “I'm sorry, what? I was not paying attention, I'm sorry.”

It's refreshing to see a man apologize so much but it feels weird coming from him.

“It's too early for this, I know.” You jest kindly. “I was asking what can I do for you?”

“Oh! Right, why I'm here.” He chuckles, embarrassed.

Get it together, Clark he warns himself mentally.

“I, um... I wanted to ask you something.”

You lean your elbows on your desk, giving him your undivided attention. “Sure, what's up?”

He walks to your desk, taking out a sticky note folded in half. He hands it to you.

I have something I want to talk about, meet me in the mailroom? Lunch on me ;)

You can't with this guy sometimes. Asking you to lunch via sticky note?

“That is seriously the cutest thing ever.” Lois coos.

You've been smiling since he gave the note to you, grinning at him as he walked out of your office.

You even did a celebratory squeal before containing yourself.

“Isn't it?” You giddily ask. “Ugh, he's so cute.”

Lois nods in agreement, wondering when she's gonna find her own Clark Kent.

“What do you think he wants to talk about?” You ask.

Lois looks at you bewildered. “What do you mean? Isn't it obvious?”

You stare at her expectantly, blinking.

“Oh my god.” She groans. “He's gonna tell you how bad he wants you, Y/n!”

“He is?” You say, hopeful.

She nods ecstatically and spins you around in your chair to face her. “Think about it. You two have been dancing around this unspoken attraction between you for how long?”

You instantly give her a time period. “Almost a month.”

“That was rhetorical.”

“Oh.” Your lips pull to the side, sheepishly. “Sorry. Continue.”

“The point is, he obviously feels for you. It was just a matter of when he’d get the balls to make the first move.”

You nod along, finding her logic unarguable.

“Okay. Okay, so I just walk in and tell him—”

“No, no, no. What? Don't do that! He's the one asking you to come over so let him go first.”

“Right, right.” You blink. “Let him go first, you're right.”

Lois puts a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. “You're nervous, and that's okay. Just breathe, be calm, cool, and collected. You're Y/n L/n, investigative reporter at the Daily Planet.”

“I’m Y/n L/n, investigative reporter at the Daily Planet.” You repeat like a mantra.

Lois smiles encouragingly, being your best hype-woman.

“You’re fucking amazing.”

You close your eyes and blindly trust her. “I’m fucking amazing.”

“You’re the baddest bitch here and you know it.”

You blow air deeply, feeling yourself relax a bit. “I’m the baddest… bitch here and I know it.”

“Fuck yeah, you do!” She exclaims and you find yourself smiling, shaking your head at her theatrics.

You fucking love this girl.

“You got this, okay? Don't think too much, it'll feel natural once you let him talk.”

You feel like you’re about to get in the boxing ring with your everything that could go wrong.

“Go get him, tiger!”

It's lunchtime and for the first time in history, you're not hungry.

You can't even think about eating out of anxiety.

You walk towards the mailroom and suspire when you go to twist the door handle.

You're immediately met with the dreamy pair of eyes you were hesitant to see.

You shut the door behind you, none of you want to be the one to move first.

“Hi.” He hums.

“Hi.” You say, equally as soft.

He clears his throat lightly and gestures you over, some sandwiches and sodas decorating the table.

“Panera?” You say with glee.

His lips pull back at your reaction. “Yup.”

You reign in your excitement, remembering why you came here in the first place.

“So.” You hint subtly.

“Sooo.”

You tilt your head at him, narrowing your eyes playfully at him. “Sooo, what'd you have to tell me?”

He clicks his teeth. “That's the question.”

You tip your head back and half-whine, half-laugh. “Oh my god, stop baiting me!”

Clark finds humor in edging you on like this, how often does he get to see you so highstrung?

“Okay, okay, alright.” He airily chuckles. “I'll stop.”

You blink patiently, the remnants of a grin on your face.

He soughs, building up the confidence to tell you how just much he feels for you.

“Okay.” He licks his lips, meeting your gaze.

He's caught, mesmerized by the way your attention is on him. He doesn't realize just how heavy his stare is until he watches you squirm.

“Clark..?” You call out to him thinking he's spacing out.

“Sorry.” He says on default, though he's not really apologetic for anything at all.

You're just so—

“Beautiful.”

Your breath catches in your chest and he's mortified.

“I, I just said that... outloud.” He stammers.

You watch him scramble for a way out.

“I'm sorry— not that you aren't beautiful, which you are. You so are.”

He cringes at himself and you hold back a simper, finding him so endearing.

“I just, um... Alright, here's the thing.” He claps both hands together softly.

“Mhm.” You nod, furrowing your eyebrows and to show you're just as serious about what he has to say.

“I... I have, uh— wait, no. That's not right.” He mutters to himself.

You come closer, standing right in front of him. “Clark.”

He looks down, stunned at your proximity and stops babbling.

“Just say it.” You coax gently. “Whatever it is, I'm sure we can work through it, together.”

Together. He thinks about the good ending, the one where you do end up getting together.

As you look up at him with those kind eyes, he feels everything he has to say come right out.

“I can't stop thinking about you.” He confesses.

You blink, startled by this even though you were expecting it.

“I like you, a-a lot, and I have so much to tell you.”

Clark's eyes flit between yours, desperately searching somewhere for you to feel the same.

He hears your heartbeat skyrocket, he feels your hands shake slightly from the adrenaline. The smell of your perfume thickens the air and he can't get enough. He can almost taste the color of your lips with how close they are.

He gulps, growing jumpy from your silence.

“Say something, please.” He whispers.

Another moment of quiet, not voluntarily. You're just trying to find the right words, yourself.

“I... I feel the same.”

That familiar megawatt smile graces his lips and you feel the tables turn, you in his previous postition and he in yours.

“I have for a long time.”

His eyes crease at that and he can't help the laughter bubbling out of him.

You laugh with him, not believing this is happening right now.

“You have no idea how long I've been holding that in.” He tells you, leaning on the table behind him.

“Not longer than me.” You suppose.

His eyes quirk up, silently asking you to go first.

So you do. “Since you started bringing me my daily dose of energy.”

He hums.

“Now, you.”

He looks at you with the fondest expression ever, you hold yourself back from kissing him stupid.

“Since my first day.” His voice thick with honey.

Your eyes soften and though he's won, you don't take this as a loss.

“Seriously?”

You don't mean to be so anticlimactic but how else does one react to feelings of romance being reciprocated?

As if Clark Kent couldn't get any more attractive, he takes your hand with the utmost care and rests it right on top of his heart.

“Can you feel that?” He asks while gauging your every little microreaction.

It speeds up gradually as your hand connects with the fabric of his shirt, pure electricity binding you together.

You nod, involuntarily fighting the tears you sense.

“Aw, don't cry.” He cradles your face in his hands and you close your eyes, overwhelmed by his affection for you.

“Come on, let me see you.” He ducks his head down, trying to catch your shy eyes.

When you finally do, he smiles so brightly that you swear it's like looking directly into the sun.

“There she is.”

You chuckle weakly, sniffling once.

He lets go of your face and can't resist the temptation of not touching your arms. He rubs them up and down a couple times, feeling goosebumps arise in their wake.

“Can I have a hug?” You ask, looking back at him through your lashes.

He feels his heart stop right there, that look sends him over the edge and you don't even know it.

Clark wordlessly leans down and pulls you in, his strong arms wrap around your waist comfortingly while you reach up on your toes.

You rest your head on his shoulder and feel your hearts beating under each other so passively, a sigh escaping the confines of both your mouths simultaneously.

Something about this feels like déjà vu, like you've been in a similar position.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Remember that conference I was supposed to go to in DC but got cancelled because the jet almost crashed?”

He pulls away with a straight face, hiding the absolute chaos unfurling behind those eyes.

“Yeah..? Why?”

You look at the door then back at him.

“I haven't told anyone about this but afterwards, Superman came by my place.”

“What? No way!” Clark gasps.

You nod cooly.

“So, what happened? What'd you guys talk about?”

You tell him how he stopped by to return your purse but something has been bugging you since.

“I just don't know how he got my address.”

“Oh, that's easy.” He doesn't feel like playing this game anymore, too many sweats. “I know where you live.”

You’re perplexed and then some because what does that mean?

“What are you saying?”

He puts both hands on your shoulders and gives you a riddled look that says, Come on, think about it. You know what I’m saying.

A lightbulb turns on in your head but it can’t be. There’s just no way you’re thinking what he’s thinking.

You’re too flabbergasted to say a word. You just stare at him, open-mouthed and wide-eyed as you say it out loud.

“You’re… you’re— you,” You chuckle dryly, your head spinning a bit. “You’re Superman?”

He doesn’t give any indication of agreeing with you but his silence does.

Clark’s trying to get a read on you.

You then cover your mouth with both hands, muffling an excited ‘Oh my god!’.

He feels reassured.

“You’re Superman!” You whisper-scream.

“Yes, yes. I am.” He nods while checking the door to see anyone coming in.

You just stare at him in wonder, taking this all in.

It all makes perfect sense.

Who else would be selfless enough to protect those who can’t protect themselves? To have integrity the most Clark Kent trait you can think of.

You know Clark has a big heart but this? This is next level.

“Why are you telling me this?”

He looks at you like the answer to that is simple, which to him, is. It’s always going to be simple if it involves you.

“I don’t want to start this on a lie.” He reveals as those damned blue eyes fixate on you.

You can fly right now.

He leans in ever so slowly, tracking any detail on your face that may give away the impression of not wanting him in your space.

When he finds none and is absolutely sure, he puts a hand on your cheek and asks, “Can I kiss you?”.

“Yes.” You sound softly and it’s as if a prayer has been answered.

Your eyes flutter shut and he parts his lips for you, you anticipate them to be just as soft and lush as they seem.

He believes he’ll finally be able to understand the languid nature of your mouth and decipher its meaning.

Sparks fly when you make contact, it strengthens the electricity that makes your chemistry.

The kiss is a breath of fresh air, the kind that blows in quietly; peacefully.

He’s sweet, undoubtedly so. His palms hesitantly splay across the curves on your waist. You smile at the soft touch and he does as well.

Your hands are on his chest and you can feel every pulse, flutter, and pang of his heart.

You think it’s poetic; the influence you have on his heart, both figuratively and literally.

He rests his forehead on yours and you look up at him from under your lashes.

He’s about to speak up when he hears something, something you don’t.

His ears perk in the direction of the distressed sound and he turns his head apologetically.

“I have to go.” He regretfully informs.

You reach up to kiss his cheek and rid him of guilt.

“When you come back, I’ll be right here.”

Clark hugs you once more and asks, “You’re my hero, you know that?”.

You chortle and respond with, “Is that Superman talking or you?”.

“Both.” He pulls back with a kiss on your head, winking at you with a cheeky grin.

He runs out the door and leaves you with the ghost of his touch and words that form a sappy smile on your face.

Superman may be the world’s hero, but Clark Kent is yours.

[cherrygirlfriend]

💋 pervert reader 🫀

pinterest instagram.com/pervert her closet

more moodboards

♡ the reader met rafe when he started tutoring her in math, and she was immediately intrigued by the shy, awkward little thing.

♡ the more they got to know each other, the more she wanted him, meanwhile rafe just wanted to court her and show romantic gestures towards her.

♡ she kept accidentally sending him nasty messages and dirty pictures of herself, but rafe was clueless and actually thought it was a mistake.

♡ he ended up asking her out to a dance that was mandatory for their entire college, and even though reader tried to make a move... he didn't get it. he just kept her at a distance.

♡ but at one point, she finally poked at his chest and asked; "are you gonna kiss me or do i need to do it?"

♡ she didn't even give him a choice, kissing him before the boy could even get a thought in. but he kept grinning for the rest of the night, and eventually he walked reader to her dorm.

♡ when the two finally reached her dorm, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, and slipped something into his pocket.

♡ and only once rafe got to his dorm did he realize it was a polaroid of the reader in her lingerie, her number and the back saying 'be my boyfriend.'

♡ he texted 'YES' within five minutes

my nerdy boy (smut) all about nerd!rafe and his secretly pervy gf

heart-shaped cut-out (smut) reader shows rafe her new lingerie

valentine’s presents (smutty fluff)

reader gets rafe a naughty present for valentine’s day

butterflies (fluff)

that time rafe confessed his feelings for reader

honey, on your knees (smut)

rafe gets desperate to please reader

bath (smut)

reader asks rafe to join her in the bath

first time (smut)

rafe texts reader to come over while he’s drunk, and the next day something special happens.

silent treatment (angst, fluff)

rafe reveals why he didn't tell the reader he loves her.

unzip me (smut, fluff)

rafe has difficulty undressing you

parking lot (smut)

you kiss rafe and cause him to have… a problem. that you need to solve.

gamer boy (smut)

rafe is gaming and isn’t giving you attention so you decide to take it.

sleepy girl (fluff)

rafe’s girlfriend is sleepy.

sharing hoodies (fluff)

rafe comes to get you from a party.

a dva is a dva (fluff & smut)

you surprise your boyfriend when he comes home by cosplaying his video game crush.

your day (fluff & smut)

rafe surprises reader for her birthday.

family dinner (fluff & angst)

rafe meets your parents for the first time.

opposites attract? (fluff & angst)

agreeing to go to a party with you and meeting your friends for the first time causes rafe to have insecurities and doubts.

all tied up (smut)

you tie up rafe for the first time.

not in the mood (angst, fluff & smut)

rafe starts to notice that you haven’t been as affectionate, and it confuses him.

blurbs:

pervert and rafe in bed together three times when perv!reader got nerd!rafe hard at inappropriate times how to tease your nerd choke me sending pictures to your nerd while he’s in class nerd!rafe finds out why you avoid him

[jeondesu]

ೀ⋆ 📚 THE PERFECT PAIR !

── ✧ ˚. ꒰ 𝓹airing ꒱ ˒˓ nerd!han jisung x popular!f!reader 𝓰enre/𝓽ags. college au, fluff, angst (kinda but not rlly), minor profanity, jisung is the cutiest pie ever oml 𝔀ords. 2.3k

[ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. ] — omg, i just realized i haven’t posted an actual written fic on here in FOREVER that’s crazy, we need to change that. but n e way, this is actually for @sta4, i’m so sorry this took a gazillion years (pls forgive me) and i rlly hope you liked it <3

“Be honest… do you think she noticed?” Jisung looked visibly in distress, his face drained of all color as if he’d just witnessed a paranormal sighting in his own dorm.

“Dude she definitely saw it, you blew it. Big time.” Jeongin states matter-of-factly, as if it were the end all be all.

Jisung slumped backwards, sinking into the mattress, dark brunette strands tumbled haphazardly over the pillow as he stared up at the ceiling. He’d been overthinking and analyzing every little detail for hours since that fleeting encounter you had with him in class this morning. He didn’t want to believe a word his friend was telling him, still latching onto a sliver of hope that you hadn’t took a peek at his laptop screen before he slammed it shut the second you walked up to him.

He grimaced at the thought of you taking note of his Goku wallpaper, everything happened so fast, he wasn’t given much time to react— though he’s almost 99% positive you hadn’t caught sight of it.

You approached him with a confident stride, your head held high, even adding a little wave which he barely registered as being directed towards him. He thought he was hallucinating from being so sleep deprived, staying up all night playing video games might’ve finally took a toll on him— but as he blinks again to snap out of his ‘dream’, you’re still standing right there.

Jisung was more than confused why you of all people would want to talk to him, praying by some miracle you couldn’t detect how much of a nervous wreck he was on the inside, forcing a stiff smile as he tried his best to play it off like he totally wasn’t losing his mind.

The strong scent of your perfume lingered in the air, making it even more of a struggle for him to breathe, let alone speak, but he couldn’t shake off the embarrassment. If you knew how much of a weeb he truly was, he’d probably never show his face around you or on campus ever again.

“Okay, maybe there’s a possibility she may have seen it, but only for a split second! Otherwise, I think I played it cool.” He recants, brushing off his friend’s lack of verbal support, “I was in the middle of an intense game of Tetris and she asked for my notes!”

Jeongin shrugs, “Okay, so..? That doesn’t suddenly make her interested in you.”

“Yeah it does, because she asked me specifically out of everyone else so that’s gotta mean something, right?” He reaffirms, the hopeful tone in his voice laced with sheer desperation.

Jeongin shifts slightly, leaning further into the comfort of his gaming chair, not even bothering to pause his game of League of Legends to entertain his friend’s delusions. He didn’t mean to crush Jisung’s ego with his cynicism but he had to be realistic.

“You sound like those giddy high school girls who just interacted with their crush for the first time.”

Well, he wasn’t lying, he surely did feel like one. Ever since you spoke to him earlier all he could think about was you— nothing else occupied his mind. He couldn’t concentrate on a single thing, couldn’t retain any of the information he read as he studied, or even play League which was his favorite game of all time. He was deeply, utterly infatuated and his thoughts were scattered all over the place.

Jisung sinks his teeth into his lower lip, swallowing an unnecessarily thick lump that’s been sitting in the back of his throat, “Look, all I’m saying is I don’t think I totally blew it. She even winked back at me when she left! She’s into me, I can feel it.”

Jeongin chuckles at his friend’s sudden newfound confidence but still remains unconvinced.

“We’ll see about that tomorrow when she ignores you and forgets that you even existed.”

+

The next day in class, Jisung is doing everything he can to try and maintain a nonchalant demeanor but it wasn’t working— at all. He’d completely thrown his ‘cool’ act out the window the minute he accidentally locked eyes with you, not even noticing how he’s been anxiously bouncing his leg underneath the desk.

He could’ve sworn you were an otherworldly being, he didn’t even feel adequate enough to be sitting in the same room as you.

You had sat a couple rows ahead of him, he preferred to always sit in the back along with Jeongin. He couldn’t help but stare, you were simply nothing short of perfect— lost in a trance as he watched you absentmindedly twirl the pencil you had borrowed from him along with his notes from the day before.

You had jotted down a few things in your spiral notebook, but it seemed as though you weren’t paying much attention to the lecture, copying most of your friend’s notes who sat beside you, every so often you’d be giggling at something she whispered to you— having been shushed by the professor more than once already.

Class went on as usual— it dragged on slower than it normally did, but maybe that was because Jisung kept zoning in and out. He didn’t take very many notes since he already knew most of the material like the back of his hand, but he still pretended to anyway, scribbling nonsense in the margins just to keep his hands busy, not even realizing that he’s wrote your name several times with hearts surrounding it, flipping the page immediately before Jeongin could notice what he’d been mindlessly up to.

Once class was officially over, everyone scrambled out of their seats to rush out of there as quickly as possible. Jeongin had one more class left that took place in ten minutes, bidding his goodbyes before he dashed out the classroom. Jisung slung his bag over his shoulder, getting ready to leave— until you appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, the sweet scent of your perfume infiltrating his senses once again.

Holding your notebooks flat against your chest, your delicate, freshly manicured hand tapped his arm lightly— just enough to get his attention. As if you didn’t already have it given to you on a silver platter.

He froze in place, still recovering from the shock of the events that unfolded from yesterday.

“Hey Jisung, I was wondering if-”

“Yes.” He blurts without hesitation before you could even finish your sentence, instantly regretting everything— oh how he wants to bash his head against the wall repeatedly at this very moment..

You could see the desperation seeping through his pores, but you don’t point it out. It was honestly kind of cute to you and you found it endearing how timid he’d act around you, a stark contrast from most of the frat boys you’d often interact with.

He attempts to save himself by quickly rephrasing his words, only to come off as more socially inept than he already is. “S-sorry.. it’s been a long day for me. Uh, what did you need..?”

You giggled softly, “I was wondering if you could help me with statistics? Unfortunately I’m not doing very well and can’t afford to flunk this semester, so I was hoping you could tutor me?” Your eyes beamed at him as if they held a million galaxies in them.

“Y-yeah, sure. I can help!” He awkwardly responds, adjusting his thick framed glasses by pushing them up with his index and middle finger.

A smile spreads across your face upon hearing that, “oh, awesome!” You weren’t expecting him to readily agree on the spot, but it worked out in your favor perfectly. “So, what days are you free?”

24/7. Every hour. Every minute. Every second. He would simply rearrange his whole life for you.

“Usually I’m free on Tuesdays or Thursdays, sometimes Wednesdays but it depends,” he answers, trying to sound as if he’s been asked this a million times before. “But.. if none of those days don’t work for you, I can work something else out.”

That was a total lie. There was nothing he needed to work out.

“Oh and weekends are kinda iffy for me,” he added.

Yet another lie. He was quite literally always free.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays works out perfectly for me, actually!” You take up his offer right away, “how does tomorrow after school at my place sound?”

You spoke so casually, completely unfazed, as if you weren’t actively flipping his entire world upside down. He simply nodded. Somehow managing not to freak out instead of dropping to his knees in front of you like some lovesick puppy.

“Cool! Wanna exchange numbers?” You calmly suggest while pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans.

Jisung nervously gulped, his throat going dry yet again as he slowly feels himself about to have a mental breakdown.

You wanted his phone number?

Now he’ll really get the last laugh when he rubs it in Jeongin’s face that he’s got one of the prettiest and most popular girls at school’s number. You switch phones and he adds his contact information into yours to which you do the same for him.

Once you gave it back, his heart nearly leaps out of his chest when he sees the contact name you set in his phone: ‘y/n <3’

+

“C’mon y/n, we only have four more problems left.” Jisung is doing all he can to try and motivate you, pointing his finger at the next problem he urged you to solve but you groaned in response.

You invited him over to your dorm while your other roommate would be gone for a couple of hours, opting to study in your room rather than the common area. Your room was on the smaller scale, but still had a warm and cozy atmosphere to it. Movie posters and fairy lights lined the walls of your side, along with dozens of little random trinkets you’ve collected over the years as decoration, and succulent plants sat on the window sill. The vanilla candle you burned added a nice touch, it was calming, tranquil— exactly how Jisung imagined it to be.

“I can’t do this anymore..” you draw out a heavy sigh, looking at the equation as it were in a third language. Math has always been your Achilles heel, it was your least favorite subject and you barely passed by the skin of your teeth each time.

“My brain’s going to explode if I continue this for another minute,” you couldn’t even force yourself to power through, you were beyond over it. Yes, you were being a little overdramatic, but you got the point across— you needed a well deserved break.

His hand accidentally brushed up against yours to grab a colored pencil, “okay, if you really need a break then let’s take one and I’m sorry if I’m overwhelming you in any way. I’ll finish the problem for you and we can stop for a while.” He writes the rest of the equation down on the worksheet and turns to you to hand the colored pencil back, hoping that you don’t notice his flushed exterior.

You lean your arm against the desk, resting the side of your face inside your palm, “can’t believe this is my life now.. studying for my stupid stats exams instead of having fun with my friends.”

Jisung couldn’t help but take some pride in himself for that, sure you may be just using him as a personal tutor but at least he’s getting to spend one on one time with you.

“So you chose studying with me over hanging out with your friends?”

He still couldn’t believe he was even here, he almost had a heart attack when you texted him first that same day you asked to exchange numbers. He would spend minutes contemplating over every little word, every punctuation, and if he wasn’t sure how to respond, he’d simply send you some weird meme that he found while scrolling on Reddit. His phone used to be drier than a desert, but now he’s checking it every 5 seconds in case he gets a new message from you.

“Yeah, I mean I could always see them another time but I refuse to retake this class again over the summer,” you shrugged, “plus you seem pretty cool, I like hanging out with you.”

Was he hearing things correctly? Did one of the most popular girls on campus just say that she likes hanging out with him? He truly felt like he was dreaming— yeah, he had to be dreaming.

“I didn’t think you hung out with guys like me..”

Your brows furrowed, glancing over at him as if he’d just said the most absurd news you’ve ever heard. “And what makes you think that?”

“Uh- I dunno.” He stammered, his eyes darting across the room, looking everywhere but at you.

Curse him for being so damn awkward… and curse you for being the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on.

You couldn’t help but giggle, “I actually think you’re really cute,” you confess, choosing a less subtle approach about expressing your feelings, “you’re nice and super smart too, which most guys aren’t.”

The two of you stayed in silence for what seemed like an eternity before he grew the ability to choke up a response, his ears burning the deepest shade of crimson, “Well.. thank you.”

“I mean it.” You solemnly replied, “Also, I think your Goku wallpaper is really cool.”

So you did notice it after all. But you didn’t care, you took interest in him because he was authentically himself, you liked him exactly for who he is— he’s never pretended to be something that he’s not.

Before you even gave him the opportunity to speak, you decide to lay it all out on the table. Harboring no regrets. “I like you a lot, Jisung.”

He paused, still trying to process everything that’s been thrown at him in a matter of seconds, but he could no longer deny the way he felt. The corners of his lips curled upward, his gummy smile making an eventual appearance, knowing exactly where this leads after he says those final words.

“I really like you too, y/n.”

it’s literally 3 am and i am SO SLEEPY, but i had to finish this for you guys <33 pls lmk if you liked this, likes/comments/reblogs are much appreciated tysm !! ( *ﾉ ▽ﾉ) ✧･ﾟ

[brailsthesmolgurl]

PUPPY LOVE PT. 2

SUMMARY: What if you went on a school's field trip with your LADs interest (but MC is also on the trip and even worse, she was assigned to be his trip buddy)? How would it turn out?

WARNINGS: High School LADs!, Non-MC reader!, MC is a lil or big bish depending on your feels, pre-relationship crush state, cute first love angst incorporated with happy endings (because recently ive been too much on an angst roll so its time to give you all a breath of fresh air) <3, a yappa read because I can't stop gushing about how cute reader and the guys would be hehe T-T

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This could actually/potentially be an ongoing series because I really like to have a slice of life touch on these boys and I see so much potential in making them more alive and giving you lovelies more sources of delulu hehe <3

All artwork credit goes to 盐也 yannn_ye on Twitter and Weibo!

All dividers are sourced from this creator!

RAFAYEL - ART EXHIBITION

"Hey, wait up!" Just as everyone is ready to board the bus that is set to depart to the Linkon City Hall for a field trip to an art exhibition, you heard a shout from a distance, your head whipping behind you to spot the mauve haired classmate of yours rushing in to join at the end of the queue. Your teacher huffed, raising her clipboard to scribble something on the attendance list. Most likely to remark Rafayel's tardy behaviour.

"Rafayel Qi!" Your teacher called out to him, her index finger beckoning towards him. "Care to explain why you were late?" She seemed disappointed, but a hint of relief splashed across her face. Rafayel indeed, was the most wanted student to join in for this field trip given he is the art genius of the school. Whispers started drifting across the crowd of unfamiliar faces, some students watched him with curiosity while others watched him with envy. There is no denial that Rafayel is a popular kid.

You mimicked everyone's actions, tossing your bag into the storage compartment of the bus and boarded it accordingly, aiming to snatch two seats for you and your trip buddy. Earlier on, when the field trip was first announced, Rafayel had approached you asking to be your field trip companion as it is a requirement to ensure everyone's safety. Without the skip of a heartbeat, you agreed without hesitation. "Great, can't wait for the field trip with you, y/n." Rafayel winks at you and beelined to join his friends on his way out of the class, leaving you in your seat, blushing madly.

"I was up till late last night trying to draft up a mural for the school's main entrance's wall." He explained, an apologetic smile on his face. Both of his hands raised up in surrender. But the teacher only raised her eyebrows, question marks plastered all over her face. "Headmaster Zhou's orders."

Sighing, the teacher tapped her pen against the clipboard, eyeing the list of names before she spoke. "Fine, just because the headmaster asked you to do it then I shall not reprimand you. Glad you are joining us on this trip Rafayel." She briefly waved him off and Rafayel hopped onto the bus right after he placed his belongings in the storage lot.

You nervously tapped your fingers against your knee, entertaining yourself to the scattered voices in the bus. You do not know anyone in the bus as this field trip is open for anyone who is interested and given your class consist mostly of nerds, none of them even bothered to apply for this field trip, other than you and Rafayel and MC. The seat you had chosen is near the end of the bus, where chatters would be more hushed and would provide a more necessary ground for you and Rafayel to talk.

Craning your head up, you try to look over the heads of other students to try to spot Rafayel. And there he comes, with his blazer draped lazily over his wide shoulders as he boards the bus. His eyes scanned the crowd before they landed onto yours, and he smiled dashingly. Seeing his reaction, you averted your gaze, your cheeks scorching at the same time. Honestly, you have always had a crush on Rafayel, but you were not sure if he felt the same towards you.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" You looked up, and inwardly frowned when you see a raven haired boy looking down at you, his headset swung around his neck, with an awkward smile directed at you. "The bus is full and the only spot available is this one." What? You turned your head to see where Rafayel is at only to find him already seated at the front seat, next to someone that you could not identify based on the back of their heads. You felt betrayed at that moment, your heart shrunk at the thought of him choosing to sit with someone else rather than you. You even questioned if you were hyped up for nothing, and that perhaps he was just trying to fish for attention from you but does not actually want anything to do with you.

"Yeah sure, the seat is opened." You gestured towards the currently open seat next to you and the guy sat down immediately. Once all of the students are seated, the teacher was the last one to come onto the bus, initiating the last head count before the bus departs. She did mentioned something at the end of her headcount duty but your sense of hearing was already drowned out by the constant low murmur in your conscience.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

When the bus arrived at the Linkon City Hall, you witnessed the crowds that are huddled at the main entrance, entering into the art exhibition with excitement. The City Hall was decorated with large banners on its pillars, showcasing some of the main highlights of the art exhibition; abstract art, sculptures, dioramas and etc. It is called the grand art exhibition for a reason and the duration spans for a whole month, where themes would be exchanged throughout every week. "I am Dennis." The guy beside you spoke and you turned to face him, one of your eyebrows quirked up at his sudden introduction. "The teacher mentioned whoever we are sat together with, that shall be our partner for the day. Haven't you heard?"

"I see." Your reply came off to be more monotonous than what you had expected. As a courtesy, you introduced yourself to him. "I am y/n, it is nice to meet you Dennis."

The raven haired guy tucked his headsets into a gray dust bag and followed up with another question, thinking that it would not be a bother for him to get to know you more since he would be spending most of the day being your partner anyways. He may as well be on decent terms with you just so the both of you could be comfortable with one another. "You're a fan of arts?"

"You can say so." You nodded, briefly catching his appearance. Dennis does not look bad himself, with dark grey eyes mimicking nearly the same tone as his raven hair. "How about you?" You decided to return the question to him, seeing how he was trying to make conversation. It could maybe, act as a good distraction for you before your conscience starts chewing you up.

The small talk lasted till the bus was well parked and everyone stood up, waiting to get off of the bus. This is the exact moment you caught on to who your crush was sitting next to, MC. You could feel your heart getting crushed at that moment. Of course it has to be MC, the prettiest girl in class, the one that people would always list as their top favourite. When Rafayel walks next to her, it looked good. They looked good as a couple afterall and that got you to sigh, already feeling defeated to go through this exhibition for the remainder of the day.

"The ones at the back, you guys should get down first, because if I do not keep an eye on you, god knows where you guys would disappear to." True enough, the teacher's gaze was trained on the few students at the back of the bus, for they are well known for their playful attitude. "The rest from the back, go along with them." You checked onto your seat before following Dennis out onto the line. This time, you heart had seemingly slowed down its beats as you got closer to where Rafayel was seated.

"Hey." You felt a lingering touch on your pinky finger when the line halted, the teacher shouting something incoherent outside of the bus. You were so lost in your own mood that you did not realise that you are right beside Rafayel, his charming smile apparent on his face. He was indeed looking forward to this trip with you and his smile conveys it, but you did not managed to catch it. More like you did not want to. "I'll catch up to you later yeah?"

No apology, no explanation, no nothing. Your inner self just crossed her arms and huffed, chin up and is already stomping back into your heart, then slamming the gummy-organ-door behind her with a huge SPLAT! He just has that stupid smile adorned on his handsome face while MC stands beside him, her eyebrows furrowed when she scanned you from your top to your bottom, lowkey judging you. "It's okay." You took MC's dagger-like gaze as a warning, even more motivated to back off when Rafayel did not even bother explaining himself. "I am paired up with Dennis, I will just go with him." Rafayel's smile faltered, his eyes lost the spark for a short moment when you shut him down just like that. "You guys have fun."

Dennis, who heard the call of his name turned his head in response and he looked down at you, his towering height surpassing Rafayel's and he beamed at you. The small talk the both of you shared just now was enlightening. Dennis is good at cracking a joke or two and is decent enough for you to initiate conversations with him, but you did not expect what comes out of his mouth next would change the course of your trip. "Careful of the steps, y/n." That sentence irked Rafayel.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

"I can't believe this is art." Dennis commented, face so close to the canvas that he could kiss it if he puffs his lips out. "What can you even derive from this?" He turns to look at you with his index pointing towards the canvas in full black, disbelief is the only look that he has been carrying the whole time the both of you are in the section for abstract modern art.

You stifle back your laughter, his company surprisingly refreshing for you. Your chest felt lighter just by basking in the moment of nonsensical commentaries. "I don't know, black is the new IT colour?" Dennis chuckled at your commentary and shake his head, his hand coming up to shield his face. A habit you had noticed throughout the one hour whenever he is genuinely amused. Dennis continues on to the next piece, eager to complete his achievement of being able to find a piece of abstract art that he could interpret.

However, from across the hall, stood Rafayel, hands in his pockets, his blazer now worn as a proper fit instead of draped over his shoulders. He was supposed to enjoy this field trip, but here he is, stuck next to MC who knows nothing nor shows any damn interest to the artworks that were on display. The least she could do was stare at it, but the only thing she could spare her attention on was that technological brick in her hands. "Rafayel, I think we should take a picture to commemorate this. What do you think?"

The same high pitched voice that stuck around from the start of the trip till now. The same voice that tricked him into thinking that you were the one who had secretly made a pact behind his back when he got onto the bus and saw Dennis beelining with a purpose towards the seat next to you. He had no idea how you knew Dennis nor did he bothered to question further when you were seemingly distant to him and seeing Dennis reminded you to watch for your steps in the bus, it got your crush equally devastated. "Rafayel." He nearly forgotten that his presence was required by MC.

"Did you not see the huge warning signs plastered all over the hall stating that no pictures were allowed?" Annoyed, Rafayel pointed towards a few of the signs he was mentioning to her and that got MC flustered, nervously tucking her stray hair behind her ears to hopefully rub off some of the awkwardness. Turning away from MC, his eyes caught sight of you and Dennis. The both of you walked in tandem, going from one artwork to the other, him making a comment and you smiling unguardedly.

The mauve haired crush of yours felt something simmering under his aloof facade. His expressions now stoic and unreadable as he continued witnessing your interactions with Dennis. Lips pressed into a near-imperceptible line, his posture has instilled an unnatural forced tension as if he was holding something back. Perhaps the primal urge to push through the crowd and landing a fist right onto Dennis' pointed cheek or the urge to play the rival love interest by snatching you by your arm and whisking you away just like those soap dramas he would watch during exam seasons to destress.

Your conscience is back, banging against the same door she had shut closed just a while ago, yelling something about a dour gaze that was trained on you behind your back. You listened and turned, and you wished you had not done it. Rafayel was there, at the end of the hall, with an expression that is close to impassive, but his eyes gave him away. The purple pink orbs of his studied you, like the marbled floor was holding him hostage, forcing him to decide if he should approach you or to just walk away.

"I need the restroom." You informed Dennis and broke the eye contact with Rafayel before he could make up his mind. Dennis responded in an instant, informing you that he would stay put and await for you. You pushed yourself through the crowds---earning yourself a few death glares from adults---trying to get to somewhere that could give you the space to breathe, or the least, to let your conscience crawl back into her bed to rest so she could stop pestering you about the only thing that could topple your mood.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

After a short romance-crisis that came to no avail on the toilet seat, you washed your face and headed back out to the grand hall only to be met with Rafayel leaning against the newly restored wall, arms crossed and clearly anticipating your arrival. Catching his figure, you swiftly turned on your heel to head the opposite way. "Y/n!" He called out for you and you hated the way your feet stopped abruptly.

Wearing your best poker face, you faced him and your inner conscience fainted. Surrounded by art, Rafayel blends right in as a living statue. His hair tousled with striations of fingertips that ran through his hair one too many times as he was waiting for his crush. He was anxious. "What?" You clipped, crossing your arms.

"I did not mean to sit with MC in the bus." His gaze did not falter from your eyes. Those orbs of his had now shifted into a hue of pinkish under the sunlight's embrace. "She told me that you were sitting with Dennis. And when I looked up, he was there, standing right next to you." His gaze fell, quietly counting the fine lines on the tiles. "I thought you went behind my back to sit with him."

Listening to his explanation, you only found out that the both of you were actually in the same position the whole time. Both thinking the same exact idea of being betrayed. "Why did you not come over to ask?" Your arms dropped from it's interlinked position, your eyes softening simultaneously.

Rafayel's ears started taking on a shade of ruby, his gaze lingered on you for a bit and back to the floor they went. "That's because when I first asked you about it in class, you seemed a little reluctant to sit with me." His hand came up to rub the back of his neck as the blush spreads across his cheeks now. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable." This guy and his antics. It made you mimicked his blush, a pinkish hue now tinting your cheeks in response.

"Why would I be uncomfortable?" You took this opportunity to dig deeper, to find out his trail of thoughts. To know if he actually reciprocates the same feelings you harbour for him. Despite many times he would do things that makes you question your dynamic with him, but given his flirtatious nature, you seemed to be standing more on the odds of him actually liking you.

Rafayel was a little taken aback by your reply. You are not the type to ask open-ended questions and hearing this from you, his lips curled up into a smile, his flirty nature kicking into drive. "You might think that I am only playing with your feelings?" You bit your lip, not knowing what he is planning to say next. You felt a warm touch against your cheek and you looked at him, one of his hand cupping your cheek and he smiled. At you. "When truthfully, I only do that to you. Despite what everyone says about me being a playboy and all, rumours stay rumours for a reason, cutie." The usage of that nickname only added more significance to you now. He only calls you that and he could not make it any clearer than ever.

Seeing your lips turning up into a smile, Rafayel leaned in at the right moment and gently pecked your lips to further prove his statement. Pulling back onto to be met with the same artwork he had saw just a while back, the one that was hung in the corner, with the ominous title of 'RED EVERYWHERE'. You are a great depiction of that artwork now. His hand that was on your cheek rubbed small circles in an attempt to soothe your redness. "Say cutie, why don't we sit together on the ride home later?"

SYLUS - ODDITY MUSEUM

"This is a big museum, so I would advice all of you to walk in small groups so you guys won't go lost alright?" The teacher pushed the glasses higher up his nose bridge after performing a headcount, an eyebrow of his raised when he realised that the list is missing one more head. Puzzlement present on his face as he had just started this job a month ago and is not familiar with any of the faces matching the names. "We are still missing one more named Sy--"

A loud roar thundered through the quiet neighbourhood. A flash of midnight racing through the bright streets till it screeched to a sudden stop at the side of the road. Conversations and chatters filled the air once the rider got off of his superbike, dressed in the mirroring uniform as everyone at the front entrance of the museum. The rider then removed his helmet and the tuff of silver hair got the chatters going on even more. It is no doubt it's the last student in the head count list. Sylus.

"And I think we are all good for the head count." The teacher announced and he stepped aside to allow entry into the infamous Oddities and Curiosity Museum in Linkon. Sylus' figure towered over most of the boys on the trip, earning him some reproachful looks from the guys while the girls find his attendance to be nurturing to their eyes. It is not that hard to earn such attention when he is a scion of a notable family; the one that helps build the school you are currently attending. With captivating features and an aura that exudes both elegance and latence strangth, Sylus holds the top one spot for your school's best looking male.

The air has changed the moment you stepped into the building. It was cooler indoors compared to the jarring heat you had to endure through the process of headcount just now. The museum reeked of aged wood, soured candle wax with hints of metal and dust. The lighting inside was provided by webbed bulbs hung from wrought-iron chandeliers, flickering slightly with every microscopic sway as if it was lit by the ancient mechanism of candlelight, even though they were clearly wired.

Sylus casually strided, gait relaxed as he widened his steps to catch up to you. "Y/n." You were so enthralled by the interior of the museum that you had nearly forgotten your crush is right behind you, his height towering over yours. If he were to grow any taller, the top of his head would have brushed the cobwebs off of the bulbs. You looked up at him and prompted for him to continue. "Are you disturbed by museums as such?" His index finger pointed behind you, eyes flitting between you to the item behind you and you turned.

A twin-headed calf, stuffed carefully into a jar the size of your palm, pickling in formaldehyde. Odd skeletal remains labeled 'unverified' strung up by fishing lines against the wallpapered walls, each of it an odd size and shape and none of it fit the profile of a human skeletal structure. Taxidermied animals posed in eerie human-like positions stood guard below those skeletal remains. A chill ran down your spine when you figured that this trip may be more alike to a haunted house adventure and you were silently hoping that there would not be any actors in costumes nor automated dolls that lunges at you through motion triggered rigs.

"No." Your voice steady and you even threw in a head shake to prove your point to your crush. One of his eyebrow was raised, questioning your confidence. Sylus knows that you are not one to enjoy horror-themed items, hence the question was asked. Knowing you for a couple of years, you could not even bear to sit through a police demonstration in school. Those annual events where they get the police to come to school, to explain crimes that are common amongst teenagers and showcase the consequences one shall face if they were to go against the law. It always ends with a good whack performed on 'cotton-stuffed criminals' as to contribute to the anti-bullying sentiment. And those were the times Sylus really enjoys watching you peeking out from the cracks in between your fingers whenever a 'thwack' sound echoes through the hall. You raised both of your hands up and waved them, smiling through thick skin. "I really am not scared Sylus."

Nodding, the man gestured towards the hallway ahead and you could feel your knees buckled subsconsciously. The path ahead is narrow and labyrinthe-coded, with velvet curtains draped along the walls, parting small gaps that reveals glass cabinets and shadow boxes filled with more things that you have to bravely scan through now that you had established your fearless attitude in front of your crush. You could not disappoint.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

10 minutes into the trip, you had been unusually slow in your steps, eyes warily trying to take a glimpse into any glass cases at any angle possible so you could prepare yourself before arriving in front of it. Sylus was beside you the whole time, hand occasionally brushing against yours in the tighter corners of the walkways. You come across a cracked porcelain music box that was displayed in a case, the lack of winding key does not stop it from playing a haunting tune. And what got your goosebumps growing was the ballerina centerpiece was made out of skeletal remains. After staring at it for a good 20 seconds, you were eager to move on only to hear someone calling out to the guy next to you. "Sylus!"

The brunette long-haired classmate of yours approached, eyes beaming up at Sylus. "I was looking for you everywhere! You have to give me a tour of some of these pieces that your father had donated to this museum!" That is an interesting piece of information that you did not hear from Sylus himself. If only you were made of guts of steel, you would have told MC to back off from your field trip 'date' but clearly, reading the room is never the girl's strong suit. Even if it is, she barely cares to acknowledge it. "I want to hear everything about it!" And she slings herself around his arm casually. If she could transform into a snake, Sylus would definitely be wrapped around by her slithering figure at this pace, no doubt.

Sylus turned to you, eyes already wary of your reaction as he did look forward to this trip. Specifically, spending some alone time with you. You are quite the social butterfly in your class and Sylus rarely gets to spend some quiet time with you. "I'll be fine." You are quick to address a question he did not even plan to ask. Because the guy was not even planning to spend his precious time with anyone else, nobody else other than you. "You go ahead and tell her what she needs to know. I will meet you later okay." Your tone was reassuring but your heartbeat was quickening, your conscience already rolling up her sleeves and flossing her teeth to get ready to chomp at MC for stealing your date. But the conscious stays within her own bounds and you were glad they do not have the chance of overriding your movements.

You then continue to ascend further into the museum, his explanations conveyed in a flat tone to MC the last thing you hear as the aphotic darkness of the next exhibition room open its arms for you, floorboards creaking underneath your weight as if playing a welcoming tune to you. MC's newfound information did somewhat bothered you. Maybe that makes sense given that her father has close ties with Sylus. They might not be as close as the likelihood of being childhood friends but given the amount of information MC knows, it may suggest otherwise to a clueless y/n. Her heartstrings tugged a little, part of her wanted to believe that Sylus has his own reasons for not telling her anything about his father's contributions to this oddity museum. Yet, another part of her just wanted to lean towards the idea of biasness.

Sylus on the other hand, watched you leave out of his peripheral vision and he grunted inwardly. The reason why he did not say no to MC was because he remembered his father pestering him to introduce the items that he had donated, for he claimed that these oddities are part of his blood and sweat and tears and Sylus is only playing his part of being the good kid to his father's glory. At the back of his mind, he was a little unsettled. Maybe more than just a little. "O...M...G... Sylus, I didn't know your dad is this cool!" MC's shrill voice grounded Sylus back to land, he was barely registering whatever she was saying or asking until y/n's name was mentioned. "I don't know why y/n has that long face, all these things hold a piece of legacy and yet she seemed like she did not even want to be here. What a waste."

Sylus' eyes drifted to MC for a moment, watching her pout and he eyed her arm that was wrapped around his bicep and he sighed, using his other arm to push her grip away. "Save your compliments for the informational boards next to the exhibits, I've had enough of explanations." MC was dazed, confused as her arms dropped to her sides and she watched as the man departed from her side.

"But Sylus!" She called out to him and stumbled forward, grabbing onto the edge of his shirt for support and Sylus gritted his jaw, already getting annoyed at her. He glared down at her, crimson eyes glowed brightly in contrast to the dim lighting. His lips now are upturned, frown evident and MC gulped. She had never seen him show this sort of expression. Chuckling nervously, she released her grip on him and she tried to reason with him. "My dad actually asked me to go on this trip with you so I can get to know more about you and get closer to you. Your dad was the one who encouraged us to be closer to one another given that I had just moved here."

Sylus' austere demeanour did not falter. He may be aloof to y/n's eyes, but this guy holds more consciousness of his surroundings compared to the average guy of his age. Seeing MC standing in front of him, with puppy eyes, he sent her a look of reproach. "You already knew that you're new here. All the more reason for you to meet some new friends, MC." Casually, he adjusted the collar of his uniform. "I am already well acquainted with y/n and I do not wish to be disturbed." Then, he careened out of the room with long strides to catch up with the one he really wanted to spend time with.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Alone, you had arrived at the Paranormal Wing. The narrow hallways do not give way to other options for other exhibits and haunted items are just a natural recipe for disaster. Looking behind, your heart thumped at the lack of crowds. You happen to be the only one here and you silently cursed yourself into thinking why did you not wait for Sylus to finish his tour. Yet, you knew that seeing how close MC is with him, you would only end up gnawing at your lips and pushing through the whole exhibition by yourself anyways. Either ways, you are here now and there is no turning back.

The room was darker than the rest of the museum, the wall lamps hesitated to brighten up the corners of room. It was dead silent too---the kind of silent that one would be granted in a sepulcher, where one's breath and footsteps echoes the sign of life. Even the air does not fit right through your nostrils. You followed along the carpeted path, footsteps light and ready to sprint for your life if anything comes to life. Coming close to an antique mirror that was held up by a charred wooden frame, its aged glass reflected dully and carried weird etchings on the mirror pane. The plaque below it displays:

Mirror of Fate. A mirror that tells the present of the future, behold your greatest fears and hope as you stare into your reflection.

Curiosity nagged at you and you stared at your own reflection. At first you seemed normal, just like how you would look like in your everyday mirror but when the hairs on the back of your neck started standing it got you having second thoughts. When did your eyes started to droop?

The light behind you flickered in morse codes and through the reflection, you watched the silhoutte of an aphotic, tall, angular figure hovered behind you. Asphyxia hit you for the first time and your feet had a set navigation before your mind could make you turn. The silhouette came closer, with a pair of eyeless sockets fixed on you through the mirror and panic shot through your senses. "AHHH!" You screamed and dashed, missing the exit sign entirely and heading deeper into the exhibition in search for a place to hide. All of your hairs are on high alert now, metaphorically watching the surrounding for you as your own eyes darted for an ideal hideout spot.

You ran past more exhibits in glass cases and you did not halt until you spotted a storage-like alcove tucked behind a heavy velvet purple curtain. Your heart is banging against your chest so hard that the silence is no longer a concern. You dived right towards the alcove and curled up, tears forming around your eyes as you tried to comfort yourself, struggling to find logical reasoning from what you had just witnessed. There was no way that was an illusion---probably just holograms and your nerves playing tricks on you---it must have been something of the supernatural. In that moment, you wished that you had never strayed from Sylus.

Your crush on the other end of the museum, noticed that you had already advanced too quickly through the other rooms. His chest tightened, a subtle pang, quiet but urgent. Striding from one room to another, he searched for you. "Y/n?" Your name was like a prayer to him, on repeat and held on with hope. He certainly wished that you did not misunderstood the scenario that happened between him and MC. But even if you did, the blame is on him and he would not back down from comforting you as long as you consent him to do so. Sylus never pushes himself onto you, for he is a man of manners and that is one of the main reasons why he did not disclose the information about his father's donated oddities because he did not want to come off as to be a show off in front of you. He would eventually reveal it if there was a chance given.

"Where did you go..." He trailed off, his murmurs swallowed by the walls surrounding him till he came to the Paranormal Room and his eyes caught sight of the mirror immediately, the same haunting figure still stood there with those hollowed eye sockets. However, a line at the edge of the mirror blinked every five seconds, with the writing 'YOU HAD BEEN PRANKED! BOO!'. The dots connected in Sylus' head. You must have been scared shitless from this mirror's gimmicks. "Y/n." His eyes snapped towards the only way out and he started to trace your steps, trying to muster up an imagination on where you could have ran off to.

Turning a corner and walking past some more glass cases featuring shrunken heads, the man gruntled in annoyance when his wide shoulders could barely fit through the narrowing halls. Then he caught it, the light uneven breathings behind one of the heavy curtains. The ones that covers what seemed to be a perfect hiding spot for someone a size like yours. He slowly approached it, not wanting to startle anything behind the curtains and he drew it open. You sat there, hands cupped against your ears and you looked up in an instant when the curtains are withdrawn.

The look you bear on your face could make him burn the whole museum down. Your eyes were wide with pupils blown wide, tears brimmed around your rims while a few managed to trickle down your cheek. You were shivering in fear, hands lowering its guard when your eyes took in Sylus' figure. "Sylus..." Your meek voice got the man kneeling down right in front of you. You were really trying your best to hold your tears back, your choked sobs now changing its pace towards being relieved. "Sylus, I..."

He grabbed you by the arm and with one forceful tug, you were pulled into his chest. Your cheek landed with a thud against his chest, and he envelopes you into a hug. He was silent, his heartbeat and calm breaths formed a comforting rhythm for you to abide. You returned the hug, arms snaked around his waistline and you stayed in his arms, letting your cries take over. The whole time Sylus just held you close, head leaned against your temple and the hand behind your back rubbing up and down to soothe you. "It's okay now, I am right here y/n."

Pulling back, your eyes seek for him in a feeble attempt to determine if he was just another apparition that is part of the museum's party tricks. His gaze softened, knowing exactly what was running through your mind and he gently wrapped his big hands around your smaller ones and brought it up to the side of his face. On cue, you started tracing his jawline, as if you're trying to remember how it feels under your touch if there comes a day you ever go blind. "I should've stayed with you." He broke the silence again, the tension now building as his crimson orbs stared right into yours, acknowledging your fear. You caught on to his longing stare, where he darts in between your eyes and your lips.

You leaned up and pressed your lips against his. It was sudden, but Sylus reciprocated it like it was meant to happen. He had always wanted to taste your lips, but he could never see himself forcing something out of you and with how you took the initiative today, he was glad that you felt the same about him. The kiss ended after a minute and you pulled back, blushing furiously as you tried to hide your face against his chest. Sylus chuckled in return, hands coming up to brush your cheek and conveniently tugging a stray strand of your hair behind your ear and he whispered. "There shall not be any distractions from now on, sweetie." And in that hidden corner of the museum---surrounded by strangeness and darkness that could easily grant you a lifetime of trauma--- you felt safe in his arms.

XAVIER - SCOUTS CAMP

You fished out your ticket excitedly, staring at the wooden signboard above you, with the words 'AZURE PEAK' etched on it intricately. Verdurous greenery is a common theme here and you were glad to be able to escape the hustle and bustle of the city and to spend peace at such a refreshing camp. Other than that, getting to hang out with your crush Xavier is a plus point. Initially, your summer holiday is going to be 'eventful'; you had plans that consisted of books, naps, games and there goes the dour cycle, repeating itself till the new semester takes place. Boring of course, but it has been a common routine of yours for every year.

Walking out of your class at the last day of school before the summer break hits, your eyes caught sight of a poster on the notice board outside of your class. The lime green typography against a dark blue background caught your eye immediately. You scanned through the details on the poster, realising that it is a summer camp event that was held by your school's scouts society. "Are you interested?" A voice travelled from beside you. Turning your head, you caught sight of your classmate ---whom is also your longtime crush--- Xavier. His head cocked aside, body leaned lazily against the wall as he awaited for your response. His blond hair swayed slightly to the gentle breeze, the sunlight creating a halo effect on his head.

"I had never been to these kind of camps..." You trailed off, your finger sliding across the paper to land on a tiny fine print. "Over here it states that priorities are given to members of the scouts society." Sighing, you shook your head as if you had already decided your fate but Xavier lightly grabbed ahold of your wrists, his eyes bearing witness to your slight disappointment. Feeling such a innocent yet close contact of his, you could not help but blushed at the interaction.

"I've taken the liberty to join the scouts society this semester." He used his other hand to fish something out of his pocket and it revealed an A6 version of the poster; thinner, more rectangular and has a close resemblance to what an amusement park ticket would look like. "Here, I got one more extra." He cooed, placing the ticket in your palm and practically forcing you to take the ticket without your consent. Xavier knew your summer schedule like the back of your hand and this time, he may have found the right reason to get you out of your confined room for once.

Xavier had always wanted to spend his summer holidays with you but on multiple occasions, he was dragged on for family trips and holidays that he could not even find the time to spend it with you. At the start of this new semester, he was already told that his parents would not be around during the summer holidays due to their busy schedule and without hesitation, Xavier joined the scouts society after finding out that you never had the opportunity to join a camping trip. Yes, dough-faced bunny went through all of the trainings and marches and instruction abiding for the sake of gaining access to this exclusive scouts camp just for you.

Staring at the ticket in your palm, your jaws went slacked because you knew that these tickets are very hard to get especially when it is such a popular option for teens your age to spend the summer holidays away from home. "Thank you Xavier." You looked up at him and you grinned, corners of your lips nearly touching your ear lobes. Seeing you smiling like a Chesire Cat, his heart thumped slightly against his chest. All of the hardships he had went through during the society immediately shoved into the back of his head, locked and sealed with yellow tape. Xavier returned your smile, your radiance already outplaying the sun's rays beckoning at his back.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

After submitting your ticket at the entrance, you waited patiently by a notice board that displays the map of the trail. Yesterday night through text, Xavier had asked for you to wait for him because he was afraid of you not being able to conquer the mountain trail by yourself---he was also rather keen on the idea of being able to hold your hand as he leads you up the hardest trail he could opt for. His concern---or so you had convinced yourself to believe---had left you awake in your bed, tossing and turning like you had just won the lottery. Hence, now you stood, at the foot of the mountain, with eyebags that could easily be disguised as an eye makeup gone wrong and a feeling of regret that weighs heavier than your packed bags.

"Y/n." A distant voice travelled to you and you slowly looked up from the view of the crumpled leaves beneath your feet and there he stood, right in front of you, with the signature eye smile that you are hopelessly in love with. "Oh, are you alright?" The smile dropped and he leaned down closer to analyse your face. You stood still, taking in the view of his cerulean blues as he eyed you, your heart pounding against your rib cage. A hand flew up and it landed on your head, his smile returning when he noticed your dazed state. "It's okay, I'm sure you're tired of waiting for me. Sorry for keeping you waiting."

His apology waked you from your reverie and your eyes widened, trying to figure out what he was apologising for. Playing it cool, you smiled back and shook your head. "No, Xavier, don't apologise for something you did not do wrong."

His hand on top of your head ruffled your hair slightly and he chuckled. "How is making you wait for me not a crime? You're so nice that your eyebags are the ones betraying you." Pointing out your insecurity and making it into a lighthearted joke is only something Xavier manages to do and never once were you offended by it. Before you could say something else, he carried both of your bags with ease and jerked his head towards the direction of the trail. "Shall we start our ascend now?"

The trail that Xavier had chosen features a lot of gentle slopes, decorated by moss-covered boulders and accompanied with wooden signposts to indicate the altitude and remainder time needed to reach the campsite following the trail. With a beginner like you however, the 10 minutes signpost that you had seen seemed like a total joke. This trail was supposed to only take 30 minutes and yet at the 50th minute, you are still not reaching the campsite. But neither you nor Xavier is complaining. "Let's take a small break, y/n." Xavier suggested and held his hand out to you.

You grabbed hold onto his hand, the warmth of it adding a tinge of blush to your cheeks and he hoisted you up the boulder and sat you down right next to him. The both of you were so close that the birdsongs were silenced as your shoulders touched against one another. "Thanks." You managed to muster out as you tried to catch your quick breaths and you internally frown when he withdrew his hand from yours. Sat next to him, you got to actually admire the nature enveloping you. The dappled sunlight filtered through the canopy in warm, golden slants. The forest consists of mostly pine trees, which exhaled the scent of pine needles and earth that made you wished that you could bottle up the scent in an air freshener and bring it home with you.

"Hey." His soothing voice broke through the nascent peacefulness you were experiencing. "I'm glad that you decided to come on this trip with me."

Your lips tugged into a wide smile, nodding. "Yeah, I'm glad too." And for the rest of the climb, as the trail grew steeper and the sun rises higher above your heads, you silently wished that this climb never comes to an end.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

After arriving at the campsite, Xavier was practically ripped away from your side by his other scout members. He did flashed you an apologetic smile before he was dragged away but seeing him being a necessity within his society does spark a sense of curiosity in you. Xavier has always been the more reserved type in your class, always hunched at the back of the class, napping away ---while still getting to be on top of his grades---and lacks initiative to start conversations with everyone. Everyone else except you. At the camp site, you felt like an accessory now, just a potted plant amongst the scout members until a girl approached you, a clipboard against her chest and a smile on her face. "Y/n right?"

"Yeah." You chirped, finally having to be able to talk to someone who is aside from your crush. The girl slid her pen down the clipped paper on her clipboard and hummed in unison of her pen taps. Her eyes leafing through line by line until it halted. Her pearly whites naturally returning to her face when her gaze catches yours.

"I will need your help to go and get some water from the stream down that path there. Do you think you can do it?" Hesitation evident in her voice but her grin was a contrast to her worry for you. "Just two buckets full would do. We need it to put off the campfire later so it would be best to get it ready before the skies turn dark." Your nod in response reeled in a cheer from the girl with the clipboard and she gestured to the two buckets behind her.

Heaving up two empty buckets is a full routine for someone whom holds grudge against sports. Leaves piled along the narrow and bald pathway, a muddy carpet spread out ahead of you as you trudged through while being serenaded by the cicada choir. The trail leads you straight to the stream as mentioned by the girl earlier and from a distance, you caught sight of a blond mane standing by the side of the opalescent river. No doubt that is Xavier and next to him, stood MC. Her brunette locks tied up into a messy bun, sleeves pushed up on both of her arms and legs and she was gleaming at Xavier, her smile wide.

"Why are you so funny?!" Thwack. A slap landed on his shoulder and Xavier staggered backwards, nearly losing his balance on the pebbled bank. Now he figured why the scouts leader asked her to go for wood foraging with him. "I thought you were here for y/n, but I didn't know you would be here helping me! Isn't this destiny?!"

"What---" Before Xavier could utter another word, he was yanked backwards by the edge of his shirt and the muscular, tall young man staggered yet again. The sentence of his finished by y/n who stood by his side; fists balled, eyebrows furrowed, ears painted red and if she could, steam is pumping full on out of her ear canals. "Y/n?"

"So you left me all alone at the camp just so you could be here with..." Your eyes trailed off to MC, her smile had been replaced with the shape of an 'O'. "Her?"

"No, I was just asked to team up with her for wood foraging." Xavier blinks in confusion, gaze flitting between his crush and the wannabe crush of his. "I was just here to wash my hands and she caught up and started saying all of this..."

Your palm made him stopped talking, grin slowly taking place on your lips before you turned to look at MC. "You can stop trying, MC." Her hasty blinks urged you to continue on. "I saw you were waiting for me to approach from a mile away before you decided to go up to Xavier and pull whatever this stunt is called." Your hands gestured to the space in front of you.

Eyes widened, MC only bit back, metaphorical fangs baring as a defensive measure. "Well? So what if I did? What can you do about it?"

A hand slithered up the back of your neck and gripped onto your chin, guiding your face to turn. And Xavier pressed his lips to yours, his other arm safely found its spot around your waist and he pulled you back against him. The chaste kiss was not long enough for you to close your eyes but it sure as hell made a statement to MC. "You can't, because y/n's my girlfriend now." Steam started charging out of all of your orifices now as your face burnt crimson.

ZAYNE - NATIONAL ZOO

The morning sun rays gleamed across the animal themed arch of the zoo's entrance. Beside you, MC was admiring her own facial features on the small pocket mirror that she always carry around. One could easily tell with her dolled up face, she is looking forward to this zoo trip. "I wonder where is Zayne." She muttered under her breath, an impatient grunt slipped past her glossed lips and she shoved the pocket mirror back into the side pocket of her bag, casually flipping her locks only for it to land gracefully against her back. "Y/n, I'll just catch you around later. If you spot Zayne, buzz him to come to me."

Unaware of the sudden interaction initiated by the class' popular girl, your responses were not even acknowledged as she made for a beeline straight past the crowds with a destination you do not care to ask. You were never close with her anyways. In fact, you were not even close with anyo---

"Y/n." Coiffed onyx hair and hazel-green orbs occupied your field of vision. The young man adorned in the regimental inky blazer, paired with a white button up and scarlet tie turns out to be the only one you are probably close with. His index finger pushed the spectacles of his higher up the bridge of his nose, allowing the optic tool to sit on the slight hump. "Never thought you would sign up to be on this field trip."

Meeting Zayne in the library was initially a coincidence, but given your strong suit in Biology, one question from him ---while he was sat two tables away from you---turned your library sessions into an uncalled routine. Two tables away became the seat next to yours. One question eventually turned into theological debates and ardent discussions. You would always see him plopping himself next to you, books stacked, notes filled and glasses optional until discussions get serious. Just like that, you never knew crushes develop in such mundane ways.

Diffident in nature, your gaze only held on for a few seconds and it hit the ground faster than Newton's Law could apply. "I...I never thought I would see you outside of that library." Your witty retort tugged Zayne's lips into a small smile and he fell in step with yours, matching your pace. Before you could forget, you decided to relay the message to him on behalf of the queen bee's request. "MC is looking for you but I don't really know where she went."

"Oh is it?" His dull tone making it hard for you to decipher his thoughts. MC is his childhood friend afterall and there has been a well precedented connection between their friendship as it closely resembles a relationship. A few girls glanced your way as they walked past, whispering behind hands---Zayne's popularity stemming more from his looks rather than his nonchalance. Yet, you know that he is not entirely stoic, based on your several interactions with him. You genuinely find him intriguing. "I think I just caught a glimpse of her, I will head on over to see what she wants. I'll meet you at the petting zoo enclosure in a few." Okay, maybe your crush on him shall always be friend zoned.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

You slowed your pace, gait similar to a wounded animal that is in quarantine. Metaphorically speaking, you are trapped within the confines of your mind. Zayne's response towards MC's request to meet him was a clear indication of where you stand in his heart. And that is nowhere. "Y/n." Your head shot up immediately, back slammed into ramrod straight posture, only to be disappointed to see Grayson in front of you. The nerd classmate of yours whom would sometimes tag along with Zayne to the library only for him to be shooed away to a whole different corner so that he would not 'disturb' the both of your heated debates. "Where's Zayne?"

Met with the question you could not even answer, you simply shrugged in return, shoulders back to its sluggish position. You adjusted the strap of your shoulder bag, the weight of your camera in it is proving to be a burden. "Here, let me help." Greyson offered when he noticed you shifting your bag, a wince painfully obvious on your face and before you could stop him, he is already tugging the strap off of your shoulder and carried it in his grip with ease.

"Thank you." You blushed, the redness creeping onto the tip of your ears and you walked next to him. Greyson although is in the same class as you, you barely get to talk to him so seeing him being so gentleman-like got you flabbergasted. "I didn't know you would come for this trip."

"Why wouldn't I?" He chuckled, left hand coming up to rub the back of his neck in hopes of rubbing off some of the nerves he is having. "I love animals. They are adorable." His eyes caught yours at the end of his sentence, slate-colored orbs shielded behind his thick round glasses. "Do you want to have a look at the capybaras?" Fishing out a map from his bagpack, he unfolded it and scanned the piece of A3, finger landing directly on the brownish creature with a tangerine sat on its head. "It should be around the east area." Figuring that there is nothing else you would like to do, you decided to head along with his suggestion, the thought of meeting Zayne at the petting zoo tossed aside for abit.

"So, Greyson." You started, the cobblestoned pathways marked with vibrant stones, the pen housing the infamous capybaras closing in on your vision. A small crowd could be seen lined against the railings of the pen, with big smiles taped on their face and a stalk of grass in their hands. "Does Zayne have a crush on MC?" Your inquisitive nature got to the best of you and asking Zayne's best pal seemed to be the most 'non-intrusive' method for you to settle on your feelings towards that crush of yours. Once and for all.

Greyson's mahogany colored eyebrow raised, followed by his eyes, pupils narrowing when it comes in contact with the sun's warmth. A slight hum from his throat suggested he is in deep rumination till he broke the silence. "I don't think so." Your heart sighed in relief. "But recently he has been meeting up with her after the library sessions." There goes the slight erratic beats again in your chest. "Not sure why but if I recalled he mentioned about something wanting to advance to second base..?"

Greyson's voice had turned into a buzz after the second base term. What kind of second base? It could only point further to the rumor in which Zayne and MC are indeed in a relationship. Or else how would one meet up with someone of their opposite gender to advance to second base? The points in your head are starting to add up now. How Zayne would come to you almost everyday with fresh new discussion topics, getting your insights and initiating conversations and constantly stating that he is asking on behalf of a friend when optimally, he is perhaps doing it for MC all these while? The cobblestones on the floor are all starting to blend into one colour and everything went black.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Fluttering your eyes opened, you heard some light clinking sounds and water dripping sounds. Your field of vision takes in the view of a sterile looking ceiling and your fingertips suggested a polyester fabric beneath you. "Y/n." The voice sounded too familiar and you turned your cheek and nearly gasped when you noticed Zayne is right next to you. Eyebrows furrowed, lips pressed tightly. "You passed out a while ago, perhaps from the heat." He explained to you and lifted both of his hands, a towel in his hand and he folded it into a neat rectangle before placing it onto your forehead to cool you down.

"Where's... Where's Greyson?" Your gaze averted from his and you tried to push yourself up but Zayne's palm was quick to land onto your shoulder, restricting your movements. Hearing another guy's name falling from your lips is not the first thing he had expected and his disappointment flashed across his features for a second.

"I was the one who carried you to the first aid room." He sighed, hand leaving your shoulder and he continued to address the 'HOW' etched on your face. "I was nearby when I saw that you were losing your balance. I managed to catch you before you could hit the ground." Seeing how reserved you are compared to this morning, Zayne felt like poking a little. "Why did you not wait for me at the petting zoo?"

"I didn't know how long you were going to take since you wanted to talk to MC." Zayne sees it. The slight tremble of your lips as you spoke, the unconscious fiddling of your hands against the hem of your vest. Something was clearly bothering you. "Greyson was the one who offered to walk with me."

A warmth enveloped you and you looked down, noticing his hand placed on your wrist, no pressure inflicted, just a reassuring touch. "There was nothing going on between me and MC." Your eyes meet his, eyelashes casting shadows and shielding your unspoken emotions. "She wanted to meet me because she wanted me to walk with her." Your eyes fell but he was quick to catch your chin. His fingertips scorching against the delicate skin on your chin. "Y/n." His tone austere, grip unmoving as he urged you silently to speak to him.

Faced with such tension, tears crowded your eyes blurring your vision. Blinking rapidly, you forced your tears to flow back into your system. "You can just go with her." Your hand slapped the one which was holding your chin and you pushed yourself up, ignoring his demands for you to stop. Getting off of the bed, you aimed towards the only set of doors ahead of you and you wobbly careened over only to trip against your feet and you fell.

You were expecting the hard thud, the thump against the back of your skull but it never came. You were cushioned when you fell and you opened your eyes to see Zayne hovering over you and you realised he cushioned your fall, again. His eyes seeked yours, glancing in a zig zag form across your features to spot any further injuries only to soften when he stares straight into you. Your heart did a somersault at that moment. "I rejected her." He cleared his throat, slowly leaning down to support himself with his forearm. His breath was so close to you that you can feel it fanning against your cheek. "I told her that I already have someone I have been wanting to pursue."

Pinpointing on what Greyson had told you earlier, you decided that now is the only time you can find out who this mysterious crush of his turns out to be. "Greyson said that you were learning to go towards second base from MC. That explains why you are constantly meeting up with her after our library sessions?" The tears pricked at the back of your eyes again when you knew that you were too much of a coward to just blurt out 'I like you' to him and instead had to result to such insinuating measures to get your answer. "Does that also explain all of the time you spent with me in the library discussing about those topics that you've got? Is it for that crush of yours?" If his answer were to be yes, you would definitely crash out.

Zayne never moved an inch from his spot. This is indeed his first time seeing you acting and speaking out of your own emotions. Even during the library discussions, you had always presented yourself with determined logic, backed with evidences on how you steer your arguments. Seeing you being so emotional, he knew that he could not hide his feelings any longer and if he were to fail to address the bothersome issue, he may lose you. "I seek for second base from MC because she is the only other female I know that I do not show interest in." A tinge of crimson dabs across his cheek when he continues, a side of him ashamed that he has to go to another girl for advice on how to treat his crush right, without actually having the courage to just ask y/n himself. "And the discussions that we had in the library. It is for me to get to know you more."

His blatant truth smacked your heart straight out of your chest. Did Zayne just confessed his true feelings to you? "For me?" That was apparently the best reaction you could muster as you stared at him in disbelief. The man finally cracked a smile on his lips and he nodded in response. So, with an intake of a breath, you blurted out something you should have done from the beginning, words all jumbled up from how anxious you are feeling. "I like you too, Zayne."

The room had shifted, the walls felt like it closed in onto the both of you, the floor beneath you vibrating to the undulating thumps of your heartbeat. Forcing the distance between the both of you becoming more and more evident. Breaths mingled, intertwining with the dust particles that floated between the crevices of your lips with his until he closed the distance. His lips pressed gently against yours in the form of a chaste kiss. Zayne knew that MC had told him that getting to second base would require his feelings to be reciprocated and hearing your true feelings was more than enough for him to lead the direction of your newfound relationship.

The kiss although chaste, it felt like it went on forever in your head. He pulled back just enough for you to open your eyes and to drink in his features. His smile is a mirror of yours but minus the bashfulness and perhaps the light spasms in your cheek muscles. Zayne pushed himself off of you and offered his hand, which you gracefully held onto and he pulled you up with barely any effort. Standing up, your eyes landed for a fleeting moment against his thin lips and you silently gasped, still unable to wrap your mind around the fact that you had just got your first kiss stolen by the lauded Zayne.

When he called your name, you looked up and realised that he had taken the liberty to close the distance again, lips lightly hovering over yours and you returned the favour, planting a light peck on his lips, allowing the feeling of your first love to plague through your system. Zayne tucked a fallen strand of your hair behind your ear and lightly whispered against your lips after you pulled back. His tone now held nothing but pure endearment for you, no hesitation, no second guesses, no more beating around the bush just to observe your reactions. "Let's get to the petting zoo now before the zoo closes. Then later, we can go and grab a dessert to commemorate our first date."

CALEB - SUMMER BEACH TRIP

The sky displayed an array of watercolours in pastel blues and pinks as seagulls take place in the beautiful nature's piece, becoming a living mimic of the clouds that hung above. Your class bus pulled up to the beach's parking lot. This being the only summer field trip available for your school, it is only natural for it to be packed with students whom are seeking for an escapade away from the city. The amount of students were so grand that two buses are hired for the sake of the trip. And that is also how you got separated from Caleb whom was supposed to be on the same bus as you but sadly your name was called for Bus A and retaliation would only risk you getting left behind. Biting down onto your tongue, you had no choice but to board the bus against your will and watch as your crush clomps onto the other vehicle.

Once the bus doors opened, anticipation buzzed through the air and you stood in line, stepping off of the bus. The scent of seawater immediately enveloped you, the sea breeze welcoming you with brash kisses against your cheeks, giving your hair a free salty blowdry service. The sound of the waves crashing softly in the distance only sets the scene more in a reverie-like quality. Looking to your left, you spotted students emptying the other bus and you caught sight of Caleb, head turned over his shoulders, laughing and chatting with someone behind him till you caught sight of her. MC. His childhood friend.

You do not hold anything against MC personally. But her passive aggression does make you uncomfortable most of the time and her friendly front is only ever exclusive for that childhood friend of hers. Yet, you did not recall Caleb mentioning anything about MC coming along for this summer trip. The fact he even got your hopes up by verbally planning all of the activities the both of you could partake during this three days camp sounded too good to be true now that you spotted the presence of MC. Your lips unconsciously formed a frown and you held your bag tighter, knuckles turning white. "Y/N!" It did not take long for Caleb to spot you amongst the crowd given his height being an added advantage.

He jogged over, hair bouncing to the rhythm and the charming smile that never seems to budge off of his lips. You looked up, ready to smile back till you noticed the brunette tagging along behind him, her steps calculated as she caught sight of you. "Hey, let me help you with that." Caleb snatched your bag out of your grip before you could even protest and his next sentence got your heart dropping to your feet before you could even speak. "You wouldn't mind if MC tags with us for a bit right?"

The girl he had mentioned came to a halt next to him, one of her corners tugged into a smirk more than a smile as her way to bid you her 'hello'. Out of courtesy---mostly out of respect for your crush--- you forced your lips into an agonising grin and nodded your head a little too vigorously to prove your contradictory point. "Yeah sure, I don't see any issues with that." That landed Caleb's arm around your shoulders and you bit your lip nervously as he started guiding you towards the small beach houses that were lined by the shoreline.

You took a slight peek behind you and you wished you never turned your head because daggers were clearly thrown from MC's eyes towards the arm that was lazily placed on your narrow set of shoulders. Skinship with Caleb is not anything out of the ordinary when it comes to y/n and him but it is a detail worth noting for MC especially when she grew up around Caleb. It certainly does not take a genius to dovetail the idea of why Caleb is suddenly so touchy with y/n and it turned out to be a lightbulb moment for MC and mind you, it was never a brilliant idea.

"Caleb~" MC's voice travelled from behind and you jumped slightly as MC forcefully slotted herself in between the both of you, now directly situating herself beneath Caleb's forearm which was supposed to be on you. "The sun today is very shiny don't ya think? Why don't you do that shielding gesture with your hands like how you've always done for me back in those days?" MC whined, battering her eyelashes in seek for pity from her best childhood friend but Caleb only took a step back from her, arms immediately dropping from her shoulder and his palm proceeded to rub the back of his neck. A habit of his whenever he is caught in an 'I don't know what to do' kinda situation.

You helped him to answer it. "I will just go in to unpack my stuffs. I will see you later Caleb." You grabbed your bags off of his grip and you swooped right past them, not sparing a single glance to your crush nor his girl best friend. Biting onto your bottom lip, you felt like slapping yourself. What do you mean by you will see him later? When will it be a right time for you to spend some time alone with him when MC is around? How could you top your importance to Caleb against his childhood friend?

Once you had settled into the beach house, you heard a slight knock on your door and you stood up, shuffling over so you can unlock it and you were lowkey wishing that it was Caleb. Yet, standing at the small wooden patio of your assigned beach house is MC instead, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently. Thud. Thud. Thud. Her eyes looked up when the door creaked open and you leaned against the door frame, letting a smile take place on your lips as a politesse courtesy. "Yes, MC?"

"Y/n right?" The way she said your name---which is not even close to how your actual name is being pronounced--- nearly slapped that smile off of your face. Being in the same class as her for 3 years is clearly nothing but a joke to her. "What's your deal with Caleb?"

Her straightforwardness got you taken aback, your eyes blinking several times as your brain tries to conjure up the right response to that question. "We are...friends." Lies. But you do not owe his childhood friend an explanation, moreso when she has daggers for eyes. "Why?"

"I need you to back off from Caleb." Her trimmed eyebrows furrowed and she clicked her tongue, feet taps finally coming to a stop and saving herself for a more ladylike impression now. "Caleb has been my childhood friend for many many years and if you think that you're special just because he lays his arms around your shoulders every once in a while. You're wrong so don't get your hopes up girl." She brought her manicured hand up to her vision, eyeing it for a moment before she gave you a side eye. "Just so you know, we kissed before."

"Are you done?" It is your turn to have your eyebrows knitted together now, lips pressed in a thin line. You could not lie to yourself that you did felt a little hurt at the fact they had kissed before but a part of yourself still held on adamantly to the idea that you still want to continue having a crush on Caleb and nobody is going to rob you of that opportunity. MC narrowed her eyes into slits and without another word, she twirled on her heels and went off towards the pavement and you shut the door, already dreading the way your heart ached.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

After changing into a beach appropriate outfit, you stepped out of the beach house and beelined straight towards the ocean waters with a small bag carrying some essentials. The skies bled through the edge of the waters and the sun's blinding rays casted iridescent sparkles across the water surface. Your feet came in contact with the sand and you gleefully shovel your feet further into the sand as if to ground you against the hectic breeze. "Y/n!" You heard someone called your name and out of instinct, you whipped your head over your shoulder and watched as Caleb was running towards you, waving excitedly.

MC's warning is practically nonexistent in your head now that Caleb has appeared in front of you and MC is nowhere to be seen within his vicinity. "Hey!" You waved back. Mauve orbs caught on to yours and he positioned himself next to you, head tilting towards the direction of the ocean to invite you to go into the waters with him. "Where is MC?" Your curiosity got the best of you after the lecture was given by MC, it is surprising to see that she is not sticking by his side.

"She went to change her clothes I think." He shrugged nonchalantly. Clad in a simple white tee and a pair of marine colored pants, he could easily pass as a model even in such a modest outfit. "I was planning to go over to your beach house to ask you to join me for the free time but I guess I don't have to given you're here." His cheeky wink got your cheeks heating up and you broke the eye contact, laying your bag onto one of the white lounge chairs by the shore. "Y/n." He continues when you looked at him. "Can I ask you to watch the sunset with me later?"

His request was so sudden it caught you off guard, your jaw slacked and your mind started running through all of the scenarios on why he had decided to ask you to watch the sunset with him. Right as you were about to answer, a shirt was thrown over your bag carelessly and MC appeared out of the thin air, in her swim wear and as usual, she budged in with her main character syndrome. "What are you guys talking about?" Giving you a slight roll of her eyes before she pressed herself against Caleb's taut arm. "Thanks for waiting for me. Let's go to the waters now!"

Caleb's eyes were already on you when you looked over to him and he cleared his throat to cut off the tension that is wedged between you and him. MC released his arm and proceeded to run towards the water, already knowing whatever she had done would be enough to remind you of your position. Spotting your face draining from its usual hues, Caleb immediately caught on to the situation and he could sense that your distance is most likely affected by his childhood friend. He approached you and placed his palm onto your head and patting gently, leaning down just enough so you can see his face. "I know you are probably uncomfortable with MC being around but it's okay, we will be fine. Meet me by the rocks later around evening and I will explain everything to you okay?"

And he left you standing there under the rainbow toned umbrella, puzzled at his usage of words just a while ago. His figure disappearing slowly into the distance as he walked towards where MC is at. Caleb took his time, feet sinking into the sand with his weight as he clomped over to his childhood friend who was already halfway into the water. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Caleb, but he did not reciprocate it. Instead, he went up to her and in a stern tone, he asked. "What did you said to y/n?"

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

The sun sets fast, now the skies are a blend of purple and pink, with the occasional burnt orange mixing at the seams. Clouds adrift in the skies mimicking the cotton candy that were sold by the beach side stores. You had changed into something more comfortable and sat atop of the rocks, patiently waiting for Caleb's arrival. Your noon was spent under the same stalk of umbrella that Caleb had left you until your other classmate, Gideon asked you to join in on a casual volleyball game. And that was how your time was spent during the past few hours.

You could not bring yourself to look out to the sea whenever there is a break in between your game. Part of you just did not want to know what is happening between MC and Caleb and another part of you just wanted to act like nothing is going on. You stared straight ahead, vision unfocused as you immersed yourself in the sound of the waves lapping against the beach, with the wind cooing at your heart to stay still. "Hey, you're here early." Caleb's voice grounded you back to reality and you awkwardly shifted in your seat, scooting over to give him just enough space to sit down next to you on the flat surface. "Thanks for coming, y/n."

"It's no biggie Caleb." Your voice came off to be nonchalant just as you had practiced in your head. "So what's up?" You turned your head to face him and pulled both of your legs up to your chest so you may rest your chin on top of your knees.

He is already facing you fully, brunette hair whipping gently against his forehead. "MC and I had a talk." You were silent and you felt the air shifted between the both of you, his body tensing slightly beside you. "I do not like the way she had treated you throughout this trip, I can see that it made you uncomfortable." He tilted his head slightly, angling down closer to you. "Especially when she interrupted us."

You blinked, eyes still trained on him. The warm golden light that casted on his face made your crush looked even more ethereal than the sunset view itself. A quiet smile drifted across your lips at his sentence. "It's okay, she is your childhood friend afterall. She even told me that you guys had kissed before." You uttered to him ruefully, biting your bottom lip at the end of your sentence as you pondered if it was the right thing to comment.

Caleb gulped, his Adam's Apple bobbed once and he tried to explain the situation. "Gosh, that was an accident! And it happened when we were in kindergarten!" He threw his arms up into the air, his dramatic flair got you chuckling softly. You knew it, deep inside, when MC said that, it was out of spite and seeing the way he reacted further confirmed your suspicions. "I never looked at her that way."

"What way?" You mulishly pried for the answer, wanting Caleb to iron out all of the contrary possibilities running through your thoughts.

Caleb's arms dropped when you asked and his eyes blinked a couple of times, those orbs now taking form of a darker mauve when he sensed that this may be the right moment for him to come clean to you now. The setting is right; with the sun setting in the background being the only third party to witness this canonical event. "The way I would look at you." He was gentle, the look in his eyes unmistakable for sincerity. At that moment, the ocean murmured behind you, a steady and soft rhythm as nature's background music.

"I thought you would choose her Caleb." Your red-rimmed eyes got Caleb scooting closer to you, one arm immediately wrapping over your small frame and he pulled you in against his side. "You had no idea how long I was stuck with the idea that my feelings would only be one-sided to you. Seeing the both of you together, it just makes sense." A stray tear rolled down your cheek but Caleb was quick to catch it with his thumb, the pad of his thumb glided down your chin and he held onto it, guiding your head up to meet his gaze.

"You make more sense to me y/n." His lips parted slightly, breath wavering. "I told MC that her feelings towards me will always be one-sided." Your hand automatically went up to graze his arm, heartbeat increasing as your breaths mingled. "Because I fell in love with you y/n." The both of you closed the distance, lips pressed against one another as the sunset enveloped the both of you in its arms. Warmth fraying across your body when he takes your first kiss, his arms that wrapped around your body pulled you closer to him and the hand that held your chin went to cradle your face as an affectionate gesture.

It took a good minute before the both of you pulled away, the tinge of red on both of your cheeks hidden by the orange hues of the sunset. At this point, the sunset is probably a paid actor. "I've always thought of how it feels to kiss you, do you know that?" Caleb laughed, tilting his head as you gave him a light punch against his shoulder. He landed a kiss onto the top of your head and gave your shoulder a squeeze of endearment. You leaned your head against his broad shoulder and let the sound of the waves and the grip of his quiet affection wrap around you like a soft summer blanket.

This is finally done! After writing this, I feel like the dynamic of high school couples should be studied as this is so pure and heartwarming! I really really really enjoyed writing this piece! You can definitely check out my first part for this series here!

[manariee]

DIDNT MEAN TO

热爱 ★ said i would never fall, unless it you i fall into

니시무라 리키 & fem!reader wc: 2451 ◜ᯅ◝ high school AU slow burn-ish emotional tension miscommunication stubborn idiot riki (kind o a jerk) mention of academic stress some light angst

REBLOG4AKISS

MANA: pls unflop me guys i beg oh and thank you @ykitslu for requesting this ^^ AND THANK YOU YIN FOR PROOF READING MWAH

Riki was never the type to fall fast.

And that was no lie.

The whole school knew that, girls would try - putting small notes in his locker, confessions at the school gym. He'd just brush them off with a polite nod or a quiet ''sorry''. So they eventually started giving up with grand gestures and just admired from afar.

But it wasn’t because he was cold-hearted.

No - it was because Riki found no point in love.

''It's stupid,'' he once told Jungwon with a scoff during lunch. ''How do you even know someone’s being real? Like, you look at someone and just know they’re the one? That doesn’t even make sense.''

''You're just scared,'' Jungwon had joked, nudging him with an elbow.

But Riki had gone quiet. Not defensive. Just, firm. He wasn’t scared. He was just done believing in something so fragile - so easily faked.

After that, he never thought about the idea again. No crushes. No lingering stares. No butterflies. Nothing.

Well… That was until high school.

Because high school brought you.

And you didn’t even try.

At first it was nothing, you were just a new face, one of Sunoo's old friends.

But then you started showing up everywhere.

You were in most of his classes, his neighborhood, and his mind, at all times.

Weird, not like he liked you or anything.

Then it happened at lunch, when you smiled a bit too hard at one of the jokes someone made at your guys' table.

He stopped midway a bit of his sandwich, his stomach twisted in a way that had nothing to do with cafeteria food.

But who was he to listen to his heart?

He decided to stick to his moms food instead.

Just as if the universe knew, Riki got paired up with you on a stupid school project. Of all people. You. On a subject he hated, too.

History.

He'd rather stand on one leg the whole day than to write some ten page essay about a person that doesn't even exist anymore.

You tapped your pencil against your notebook. ''We could do it on the French Revolution. That one's at pretty dramatic.''

He stared at you a second longer than necessary. ''Sure the Eiffel towers pretty cool.''

You blinked, then shook your head. ''That happened after the revolution, in 1887.''

And he grinned. Actually grinned. Like a real one - not his usual smirk or polite curve of the lips. ''Okay nerd.''

But he quickly snapped out of it, what the heck?

As time passed on, he didn't know what was more disturbing: the fact you made him laugh, twice.. Or that he wanted to make you laugh again like you did at Sunoo's jokek the other day. Desperately. Like some dog trying to earn a treat from it's owner.

Every time you smiled at him, it felt like something heavy shifted in his chest. Every time you leaned over to show him your notes, he had to remind himself to breathe like a normal human being.

Why was he sitting up straighter? Why was he nodding like he was actually interested in The Reign of Terror? Why was he googling “how to write a bibliography” at 1AM when he literally never did homework on time?

Oh no. Oh no no no.

Riki Nishimura was trying. For a group project. For you. This was bad.

But the worst part? He didn’t even mind.

Riki knew he was in real trouble when your face would show up on his ceiling.

He was being so embarrasing it even made him cringe.

Like for instance when he tried to offer his umbrella on a rainy day to you, but when you said that he would get soaked, he quickly cut you off with a 'I don't care.''

But what was worse than public humiliation to Nishimura Riki?

His ego betraying him.

Because he was starting to look for you everytime you weren't with the group.

In the hallways. At your locker. On lunch breaks. Sometimes near your house or the convenience store.

And it pissed him off. Because since when did he care about someone liking him back?

He wasn’t supposed to. He’d sworn off that whole mess. Feelings? Affection? Vulnerability?

Absolutely not.

But now?

He reread you texts, pacing in his room, wondering if your ''lmao'' meant if you really were laughing based on what he said and your humor level. He was bringing extra pens in case you forgot yours again, which you always did. Riki never brought pens, ever. He was staying up late to work on the project so ''you wouldn't worry about your grade.''

He was.. Caring?

And you didn't even know.

You didn’t know that when you bumped shoulders with him and laughed like it was nothing, he had to physically stop himself from reacting like a middle schooler with a crush. You didn’t know that you were slowly, steadily, completely destroying him.

Bit by bit. Smile by smile.

It was stupid, so stupid.

You were laughing with some guy from the basketball team outside the cafeteria, and Riki told himself it didn’t matter.

He told himself you were just talking. That you were allowed to smile like that. That you smiled like that at everyone.

But then the guy touched your arm. Lightly. Casually. Familiar.

And that was it.

Something inside Riki just snapped.

It wasn't jealousy. No - jealousy was messy, childish. This was worse. This was panic. This was every wall he’d built crumbling under one tiny, innocent moment. This was every feeling he’d buried just to drag himself to this.

He didn't think, he just walked.

You turned when you spotted him from the corner of your eye. But you were completely caught off guard when he gently grabbed your arms. ''Riki?''

''Can we talk?'' he said, eyes narrowed and tone so sharp it almost made you fear of what he would say next.

The guy looked between you two awkwardly and just left as Riki pulled you to the side of the building, where it was a bit more quiet.

''Okay.. What's going on?..''

He didn't answer right away, his fingers were twitching at his sides, curled into fists as if it would ground him.

''I don't get it.'' he said after a beat.

You raised your brows, arms crossed. ''Get what?''

''You'' he blurted out, tone frustrated but not to you, more to himself. ''This. Whatever you've been doing to me.''

You blinked, confused of which turn this conversation was taking, you could feel your heartbeat increasing a bit too fast.

''I was fine before. Like, really fine. I didn't care about people, or love, or any of that corny stuff. But then you came along with your dumb flower doodles and your weird French Revolution facts and your - your laugh.''

You froze, almost choking on your own breath. ''M-my laugh? Riki what are you saying?!''

''Yes your laugh, it's fucking pissing me off so bad.''

Silence.

''I've been losing my sleep just because your face haunts my ceiling,'' he said, quite literally pouring everything out now. ''And it's not in a love-story kind of way it's more of a haunting-creepy way. I hate group projects and don't care of what others think of me, but suddenly i'm writing 5 extra pages just so you would be impressed. I keep showing up to class early just in case i bump into you. I carry extra pens so you won't have to ask anyone else and I gave you my umbrella when I hate the rain!''

You stood frozen, lips parted, and that was when he fully broke - his voice cracked just a little when he added:

''I don’t know what to do when you look at me.''

Your breath caught.

''I tried pretending it wasn't happening,'' he said. ''I tried staying cool, acting like I didn't feel anything. But I do. And I can’t not anymore.''

Silence again.

Then…

''I like you.''

He finally met your eyes.

''And it’s driving me crazy Y/N.''

You stood there, even a step feeling to heavy.

His chest was pounding so hard you swore even you could hear it.

You wanted to say something, heck - anything. But the words just wouldn't come.

Come on Y/N it can't be that hard can it?

Riki's hopeful eyes searched yours for any sign - any little spark - that you felt the same.

But the silence seemed to eat him up. It was heavier than any heartbeat between the two of you.

He sighed, turning.

''Forget it. Forget I said anything.''

But before he could walk away he turned his head over his shoulder, a small, forced smile on his face.

''Have a good evening Y/N.''

The next day, Riki wasn't at the quiet corner of the study café, the spot where you two could do anything without being interrupted.

But no, Riki was in the center of it. The place where it was way too crowded. A airpod in his ear, the missing one still in your purse, the one you were supposed to give back but he decided confess instead.

You quietly walked towards that spot, and even though he spotted you from the corner of his eye, he didn't look up, just continued typing away.

''Hey.'' you said softly, purse strap clutched in your hand.

He looked up, noticed how you semeed a bit dolled up considering the ocassion. ''You got a date or something after this?''

You blinked, looked around then shook your head. ''No?..''

He nodded, bringing his gaze back to the screen, tone cold and something else that made you feel regret? ''Due date's soon.''

You sighed, nodding as you pulled out the chair beside his. ''Right we should-''

You were cut off by the sight of his bag on the chair and sat on the one across instead.

The space between you felt enormous.

You remembered all the times he’d leaned over your shoulder, whispering jokes, nudging you playfully.

Now, his silence screamed louder than any words ever could.

You both got an A.

Top marks, praise from the teacher, Jealous stares from classmates who'd started with theirs last minute.

You thought it would feel good - something to celebrate.

But sitting there beside Riki, it just felt.. Empty.

He barely reacted. No smug grin. No playful ''We killed it'' shoulder nudge. Or that dinner he promised to take you out on if you two aced it.

''Guess we did alright,'' he said casually.

You nodded. ''Yeah.''

There was that awful silence again, it was so unbearable and full with tension. You just wished things were just like before, air filled with laughter and his dumb jokes.

He stood up, sliding his bag over his shoulder. ''Well.. Good job, Y/N.''

You panicked a little and quickly got up, before scrambling into your bag. ''Wait.''

He paused, hands casually in his pocket.

You held out his missing Airpod - the one he was supposed to smile at upon seeing.

He looked at it for a second, then gave a soft laugh.

That same laugh which made you stupidly smile.

''Guess this ends here?''

You froze, fingers still stretched toward him.

He took the AirPod gently, careful not to brush your hand. His voice was light, but his eyes didn’t match - too careful, too guarded. Like he'd already accepted your silence and was trying to make peace with it.

You wanted to yell.

You wanted to turn back time.

But right now? You could just watch him walk away.

The moment he stepped out of the classroom, something inside of you snapped, why was he acting like he was the only one hurt? You were hurt too. So that's why you were currently running across the street, rain pouring down in sheets, soaking your uniform, but you didn't care. You had to take out your anger on Nishimura Riki, once and for all.

When you turned a corner there you saw him. Umbrella in his hand, back towards you.

''Nishimura Riki.'' you called out, trying to catch your breath while trying not to look like a idiot at the same time.

He didn’t turn around.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, stepping closer. ''You didn’t even give me a chance. You just... walked away. Like I was some stranger huh?''

His silence was a punishment, heavier than any words he could say.

''I waited,'' you said, biting your lip to keep the tears from falling. ''You didn’t even give me a chance- You! You treated me like I ruined everything, like I was the one who messed it up. But maybe it’s you who’s scared!''

You took a shaky breath, fists clenched at your sides.

''And that’s not fair. You treated me like a jerk before even hearing me out. Like I wasn’t worth the time.''

The words spilled out, raw and desperate. ''You treated me like I ruined everything!''

The silence stretched between you, the rain soaking through your clothes, mixing with the tears you didn’t bother wiping away.

And then—

Without a word, Riki spun around, ran and pulled you into his arms, hand cradling your head.

You cried against his chest, your hands weakly punching his shirt. ''You're such a jerk,'' you said between those weak punches. ''A mean, jerk.''

His arms tightened around you, a quiet promise in the way he held you close.

''I'm sorry,'' he whispered against your hair, the heat of your bodies keeping each other warm despite the rain.

The rain has slowed down and you and Riki were drying up on the bench outside the convenience store. It had been a while someone had said something but the silence wasn't as bad as the ones before.

He glanced towards you, gulping before muttering. ''I'm sorry.''

You turned your head towards him, nodding since you didn't know what to say.

''I got scared. Thought I had ruined everything we had, but yes, it wasn't fair of me I know.''

You chuckled, nudging him. ''Nishimura Riki apologizing first?''

He smiled a bit, leaning closer. ''Forgive this jerk?''

You wanted to stay mad. Really. You should’ve. But the way he looked at you. God you couldn't.

You nodded, biting your lip.

''Don't make me regret it,'' you whispered.

His lips quirked in the smallest smile, and then - finally - he closed the distance.

The kiss was slow, his hand coming up to cradle your face, and lips moving against yours like he was earning the apology.

When you finally broke apart, foreheads resting together, he laughed quietly, breathless.

''You hit me pretty hard earlier,'' he teased.

You chuckled, cheeks flushed. ''You deserved it.''

''I probably still do.''

''I'd rather kiss you instead.''

lovliezᡣ𐭩: @chrrific @saemisic @heeaara @ltfirecracker @woniefication @lezleeferguson-120 @rikifever @chaeneu @jjennuine @callikari @yuuuraaa @wondoras @ykitslu @orimuraa

NETS: @k-films

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for @_Bimbo_99

Request: I kind of like the idea of a jock orc x fem nerd reader, friends to enemies to lovers type of deal Like they were best friends when they were younger, but soon turned enemies and eventually liked each other again- angst with some smut lol

Jock-cock

Orc x fem!reader || (light) angst, (light) dirty talk, oral sex, size difference

He was your childhood best friend, your moms were friends and it was only normal that you were, too. And maybe… just maybe… You felt a bit more than friendship towards him. But who could blame you for your crush? He was hot and big and green and had muscles over muscles… He was just a silly jock that acted like a sweetheart when you were around. It wasn’t your fault that you fell for him.

But then the asshole had to be as stupid as a jock can be and made fun of you in front of all his other jock-jerks, of course he did. It hurt so deeply that you couldn’t even look at his face after it. It didn’t matter how many times he apologized in private, the pain in your heart was very real and his words cut deeper than any others could. The betrayal was the worst part of it, and losing him as a friend made your insides twitch still.

So you decided to not only ignore him, but antagonize every part of his life you could. You did tell his mom, and you didn’t regret the three months of cleaning the bathrooms he got in retaliation. He did mind, if the stinky eyes he sent your way were any indication.

And just like that, your best friend turned into somebody you barely knew. Somebody who didn’t look your way when you passed next to him. Somebody you tried not to pine after even if it hurt your soul every time you looked in his direction for a bit longer than needed. But it was okay, because you were going away from college and he was going to another place completely different. You wouldn’t have to see him again. Not for a long time, at least.

So when you see him at the library in your campus for the first time after three years of avoiding him, you are a bit more than speechless. He’s just standing there, as big as ever, green and pretty and so fucking hot you almost combust on the spot. But his emerald eyes fixated on you, and you can’t look away even if you tried.

“Hey… Can we talk?” His words wash over you and you stare at him for a couple seconds, completely weirded out by his presence.

It takes your body a couple of seconds to unfreeze. Your response is fast and thoughtless: “No.”

You walk past him, your brain still spinning. What is he doing here? He was supposed to go to a fancy collage across the country and you were supposed to be free from his influence ever again. But there he is, standing a couple meters away from you, looking as handsome as ever and as jacked as any other human or monster you’ve ever seen.

“Hey! Wait! I… I need to talk to you, please.” It’s the vehemency on his tone what makes you turn around to look at him.

You try not to sound too annoyed when you let out: “What do you want? What are you doing here?”

“I moved, they recruited me into their sports team and I… I wanted to be closer to you.” His confession makes your brain spin, not fully understanding what the fuck does he mean by that.

“What? You don’t even like me.” You let out a humorless chuckle.

He looks genuinely surprised at your words. “What gave you that idea?”

You look at him with confusion. “You!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up for emphasis. He looks confused too, so you explain: “You said I was like a sister to you, that you’d never go for a nerd.” You use quotation marks for the words that are branded in your brain, never forgetting how much his words hurt you, even years later.

He scratches the back of his neck, looking at the ground as if it has the answers to his questions. “I… I did say that.” You huff at him, trying to walk away again. “Wait!” He grabs your arm. “I didn’t mean it, I was just trying to deflect because… because…” He stutters and you do not think that’s cute. Not at all.

“Because what?” You press, curious about what shitty answer he’s going to give you. Your heart is beating fast and you can’t even start explaining any of your feelings right now. You need to get away from him before you do something stupid as confesses your undying love for him.

But then he deadpans: “Because I had a crush on you, damn it!” His tone is almost angry and makes your heart skip a beat. You gasp, mouthing his words as if that will help you understand.

“You what?” You ask, blinking slowly.

He chuckles at your probably-surprised face. “I’ve been into you since forever. You are it for me.” His words sound so sincere and his tiny smile holds so much weight behind it that you can’t… you can’t...

“What?” You end up questioning again.

He laughs, pulling at you close by the arm he was still holding. Your body collides with his hard middle as he says: “You start to sound like a broken disk.”

“Are you for real?” You pinch his side, making him squeal as the tension between the two of you breaks. Completely melts into nothing as your arms come around his middle and you hug him close. It feels like coming home.

You hear him sniffing your hair. “Fuck, you smell so good up close, I almost forgot how good you smell.”

“You sound like a weirdo,” you say bemusedly at his antics.

He used to smell you all the time while you were growing up. It was endearing then, and it is endearing now, your whole body vibrating in anticipation. You don’t want to give in so easily, you really don’t, but he’s here, and he confessed he and… and you like him, too. Even if you have been trying to deny it for years.

But then he gets you again: “And you are carrying around your DnD dice, you can’t judge me for being weird.” He pulls back a little, looking down at you with the prettiest eyes and the most beautiful smile.

You try to argue: “What are you tal…”

You don’t get to say anything before his mouth is on you, and you are squirming in his arms. Your hands find his short hair and you are pulling him down until you can deepen the kiss as he moans against your lips. His tusks feel amazing against your face as he devours you.

“Get a room!” Somebody screams in the distance, making you pull back a fraction to gasp. You can feel your face getting redder and redder. Fuck, how embarrassing.

“I- You…” He stutters, looking as enchanted as ever. He’s blinking slowly and licking his licks trying to get another taste of you.

“My room is in that building,” you point out to your right, grabbing his hand and walking in that direction without even asking.

You had wanted him for so long and having him so close now… There’s no way you aren’t going to get that orc dick ASAP.

You are already on your door when he lets out a chuckle: “Slow down… I can, I can take you out first.” That he says that only makes you hornier.

“Do you want that?” You tease, looking pointedly at the dick outline on his pants. “Do you really prefer to get coffee right now than to get in there and fuck me until I cry out your name?” You point at your dorm.

He lets out a groan. “Fuck, don’t say stuff like that in public, I’m about to cream my pants.”

“Are you?” Your smirk is so big you can feel it pulling at your cheek muscles.

“Good damn it, get inside.” You raised your eyebrows at him and he growls, making you let out a squeal as he picks you by the waist and pushes the door open.

Your back was pressed against the wall immediately as he sucks on your pulse point and your head hits the wall behind you as you cry out in pleasure. You don’t know what is it, the fact that he can pick you up with one arm or the fact that he has you pressed against the wall as he grinds against your clothed pussy, but you are on fire. It feels like there’s lava inside of you and you want nothing more than to burn completely.

“We should take it slow,” he bites against your neck, not stopping his ministrations and probably the huge hickey he’s sucking right there.

You let out a humorous huff. “I don’t think so.”

Your hand travels down between your bodies and you grab his dick over his pants. He lets out a roar, a literal roar, and your body is flying across the space until you are laying on the bed and he’s crawling to you like a predator. You let out a happy cry when he grabs your pants and pulls them down along your panties. Pointing at your shirt as he takes off his own clothes. You get undressed as fast as possible, but it’s not fast enough. His hands are on your bra and he… pulls.

Your boobs spring free as he groans at the sight, your broken bra thrown over his shoulder as he grabs your ankles and pulls your legs apart. He lets his body hit the bed, head between your legs as your hands find his hair and his tongue finds your clit. You let out a scream that can rival any heavy metal singer, his clever mouth hitting all your erogenous zones as his fingers find your center.

He’s doing everything you like without you even trying to explain, the way he’s eating you is enough to drive you mad with a few flickers of his tongue. “Please, please…” You keep begging him but he only looks up for a second, a big smirk on his lips.

“I’ve been waiting for this so fucking long you aren’t about to let the fun finish in a few minutes, are you?” You shake your head, your brain spinning and your ears ringing as he continues his tongue-dance across your clit.

You are dripping, you can feel the amount of juices running down your thighs and the sounds he’s making… Fuck. You are definitely going to let the fun finish. The fun being you.

“I’m… I’m about to…” You don’t get to finish the phrase before he’s curling his fingers and drubbing against your G-spot sending you into the stratosphere of pleasure as you scream his name.

When you come back to your senses, his chin is resting on your navel and he looks self satisfied, licking his lips as he stares at you. “I knew your nerd-pussy would be worth the wait.”

“My nerd…” You burst out laughing so hard your stomach hurts. “You didn’t just say that,” you say between breathless laughter.

He smiles at you, “I did. And I don’t regret it.”

“Are you going to tell me to suck your jock-cock now?” You joke.

He sits up between your legs, pulling them over his stretched ones and making you feel so tiny in comparison. Fuck, he’s so big. “I mean… If you want to…” You look at him in time to see his hand wrapping around his impressive green dick, your mouth already watering.

“You are incorrigible.” You say as you reposition until your face is eye-level with his navel.

“And you like it,” he says, his breathing labored just having you so close to his dick. You smile up at him, guiding his hand to your hair to keep it together.

“Ugh, I do,” you falsely complain as you lower your head. His deep groan is enough to make your insides burn again.

[auroralwriting]

your beauty never scared me

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

you’re scared no one will ever love and understand you, but spencer always has.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: a bit of unrequited love, comfort/angst/fluff, negative self thought, spencer is always a sweetheart, reader has a darker aesthetic

Maybe it was the fact that you came from a broken family from a young age. No, you didn't have a bad childhood, but it wasn't ideal for a young girl growing up.

It could have been the bad high school relationships, full of boys who didn't understand how to treat a young woman. Stuck at their stupid baseball games or waiting for them to finish their video game, sitting alone on their bed waiting for them to finish.

The most likely cause for your fear of love was simply the fear that no one would ever truly understand you, and therefore, never be able to love you right.

If you looked deeper, though, much further past the surface level, deep into the core, you would've realized that Spencer Reid had been there all along.

When you first joined the BAU, Spencer Reid was a typical little nerd, the glasses he wore even fulfilling the stereotype. His rambles about anything and everything were endearing, and lead you to begin your friendship with the man after he told you the history of your favorite movies.

"...its distinctive style with his signature blend of dark humor and whimsy. His imaginative vision, influenced by German Expressionism, is evident in the film’s surreal sets and exaggerated character designs. Burton’s decision to cast Michael Keaton as the chaotic title character and his encouragement of Keaton’s improvisation contributed to the film’s memorable, unpredictable energy. The innovative special effects and makeup, along with the creative set design by Bo Welch, further showcased Burton's unique approach."

By the end of his rant, Spencer had expected you to have been completely focused on anything else, but your eyes were trained on him, a small sparkle flickering in them.

"Spence, how do you know do much about Beetlejuice? You haven't even seen it before." you'd chuckled.

"I think Tim Burton is an interesting director. Maybe we could, uh, see it together sometime? If you want, of course." Spencer awkwardly fiddled with his fingers, the suggestion of the two of you hanging out outside of the work settle rattling his nerves.

You had given him a big smile, beneath your dark clothes and makeup was a heart of white and gold, a truly captivating soul. "I'd love to, Spencer! I own it, so you can come over whenever."

"Whenever sounds good," Spencer paused, thinking about what he had just said. "I mean, Thursday?"

"Thursday it is, boy genius." That name was usually reserved for making fun of Spencer, but the way you said it actually made his heart flutter.

Spencer would've never guessed that the girl, clad in dark clothing, the complete opposite of his own aesthetic, would be interested in hanging out with him. Then, it happened. And it happened again, and again, until you became friends.

Your friendship with the doctor grew. As you got closer, Spencer began to identify your fears and your tells. You played with your hair when you were nervous, bit the skin of your fingernails when you were anxious, tapped your foot or bounced your leg when you were impatient. He began to understand you on a deeper level.

It began to be the same for you. You knew his likes, dislikes, fears and worries. You understood his struggles with his mother and father, how sometimes this job didn't feel like enough until he made a true difference in someone's life.

Spencer Reid and you had connected in nearly a cosmic level, and that began to scare you.

It was two and a half years after Spencer had met you when he realized he had been falling in love with you for nearly a year. His small crush had grown exponentially. After Haley Hotchner's death, you'd taken in Jack for several days while Hotch planned the funeral and began to clean the house from the murders. Jack had taken to you quickly; he'd gone as far as to call you his favorite aunt.

Seeing the level of compassion and helpfulness you had displayed for Hotch made Spencer begin to realize that your friendship was beginning to move to the next level for him.

He began to think of you night and day, wondering what you were doing, how you were doing, what your plans were. He wanted to be with you, to feel your skin, linger in your existence. It wasn't until JJ had explained to him that that feeling he felt was love that he began to understand that you were in no place for him to admit his feelings.

Spencer never meant to profile anyone unless he was working, but he found it hard to not with you. He noticed your lack of dating, how even when you had the chance, you evaded it. He noticed your disdain to the notion of true love, or love at first sight, or even soulmates. It didn't take him long to piece together that it wasn't a hatred of love, no, it was a fear of it. However, he could never understand the why of the fear.

Now, you and Spencer had met five years ago. You'd both physically changed in looks over the time, but your friendship only remained and grew passionately stronger.

After the death of Emily, and finding out she didn't really die, Spencer had you as his rock. You grieved together, to the point that for three weeks, you lived with Spencer in his apartment. After you'd left, Spencer realized that he couldn't live without you anymore.

Spencer and you sat on his couch, the cold September month made you crave an early Halloween movie. So, Spencer put on his own copy of Beetlejuice he bought a few years back. The soft glow of the lamp cast warm shadows across the room, and the faint scent of popcorn lingered in the air. You could hear the distant hum of the city outside, blending with the soft rustling of the movie’s soundtrack.

"I like Adam and Barbara," Spencer hummed as he watched the screen. "They make a really good couple."

You nodded, "I guess they do,"

Spencer's brows furrowed at your words. "You don't sound convinced."

"I don't know," You shrugged, sitting up and crossing your legs. "He's sort of controlling over her. It's just too much, she's a strong woman."

"You mean he's protective over her in the afterlife filled with dead people they didn't even knew existed?" Spencer raised a brow, turning to you. "I'm pretty sure that's relatively normal."

Turning your attention back to the screen, you replied, "I guess so,"

Spencer sighed, finally deciding to ask you the question he'd been avoiding for too many years now. "Why are you so scared of love?"

His question made you turn back to him, a confused look on your face. "What?"

"You're so pessimistic about it. You always avoid dating, talking about it, anything to even do with love." Spencer explained. "I'm just curious, why?"

"Because, there is no way love that strong exists." You concluded, folding your arms over your chest. "That's why it's all in the movies. It's fake for a reason."

Spencer nearly chuckled at your words, finding himself in disbelief. Sure, he didn't really believe in soulmates, but he definitely believed in love. "Sure love exists," Spencer said. "True love has to come from somewhere to be spoken about. It's why its so deeply rooted into art and literature. Plus, with the psychological evidence of--"

"Okay, okay," You put your hands up in mock surrender. "I believe you, Spence." You'd never cut off one of his rants before.

"This bothers you," Spencer noted, his arms mocking your previous stance as they folded over his chest. "Why does this bother you so much, what aren't you telling me?"

You let out a huff of air in reply, your defences kicking into full gear. "Why do you care so much?"

Spencer stuttered over his words, “Uh- because it clearly affects you! It’s not hard to notice your dislike of it, and I want to know.” Spencer defended. He could see it in your eyes, though. You were too good of a profiler to not know he was lying through his teeth.

“The real reason?” You sharply replied, hating that Spencer was lying.

“Because I’m in love with you,” Spencer’s voice was filled with desperation. “Here you are, constantly belittling the idea of love when that’s all I want to give to you, and I don’t understand why.”

His words cut you like a knife. You hadn’t expected him to say that, let alone feel it. It almost made you feel guilty. “No one has ever understood me, Spencer. I don’t want to settle for just anyone who will pretend for their whole life that they know me when deep down they will never be able to understand who I am, what I need.”

“You think I don’t?” Spencer challenged. He tried not to feel offended at your words, truly. Yet they hit him like a slap to the face. He felt like he understood you.

“Okay, prove it then.”

Spencer was ready for this, “Your least favorite cases involve those with divorced parents. Not because of the affect on their children, but the affect it takes on them. You hate to see when it hurts one of them, or both.” Spencer’s first claim was true, and it caught you off guard. “You hate anything with a pumpkin scent, however, you enjoy real pumpkins because of their look rather than their scent. You bite your lip, tap your foot, shake your leg, all when you feel negatively.”

“Anyone could profile that,” You weakly replied, feeling thrown off at Spencer’s careful acknowledgment of your little tells.

“Are you afraid of love because no one will ever understand you, or because you’re scared you’ll never find someone who will.” Spencer finished. He watched as your mouth opened and closed, the words not quite making it out. “I see you, I hear you. My favorite thing is when you tell me things about yourself, your day, your feelings. Any day without you is a bad day and any day with you is a good one.”

Spencer’s words left your heart beating faster in your chest as you began to realize this is what you were looking for all along, but your own fear that you would never find it blind sighted you to the truth. The truth that Spencer Walter Reid was in love with you.

Spencer often recalled his own struggles with relationships, remembering the long hours he spent studying while his peers socialized. With him being so much younger, he had no way to truly connect with them. The sense of isolation he felt growing up made him cherish the connections he built later in life, driving him to seek genuine understanding and affection. On the other hand, your own problems with family and bad relationships drove you to hold a near-resentful feeling to love. It made you feel like it was something you could never have. That was something Spencer was beginning to see from your perspective.

"Please," Spencer's voice was softer, more vulnerable as his eyes pleaded with you. "say something."

"I'm sorry," you breathed. For a moment, Spencer thought you were about to reject him, until he saw the glistening tears form in your eyes. "I-I should've known sooner."

Spencer nearly chuckled, "I didn't want to make it too obvious."

"Spencer?" you asked.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Why do you love me?"

Your question made his heart nearly crack at the raw fragility your tone held. All he wanted to do was to take you into his arms and sing you sweet nothings until you believed him, but right now that wasn't an option. "I love you because you're unapologetically you," Spencer's reply made you finally lock eyes with him. "You're so sweet and kind, you never try to hide the things you like and dislike. You're so bold and brave. You make me feel so alive, so wanted. Every moment with you is a reminder of how extraordinary it is to be around someone who radiates such genuine warmth and enthusiasm."

"You really love me?" Your voice felt meek in comparison to how your normal assertiveness and bravato sounded. Your heart felt three times bigger in your chest as a tear dared to slip down your cheek.

Before it could even leave your eye, Spencer brought his sleeve over his hand and soaked it up gently with the cuff. "I love you with every part of me."

"I think I want to love you, too." you admitted. It felt hard to say those words, to finally give into your darkest, most vulnerable desire of unwavering love.

"Even with your fears, you're beautiful." Spencer softly reached to graze your cheek. "This, your fears, nothing could ever scare me. I'll teach you to let me love you if I need to."

"That better be a promise," you slightly chuckled, holding your pinky out to the man.

Spencer smiled, locking his pinky with your own, "It's a promise."

As you held Spencer’s pinky in your own, a sense of peace settled over you. The weight of your fears began to lift, replaced by a tentative hope. "Maybe love isn’t as impossible for me as I thought," You whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. Spencer’s smile was both a promise and a comfort, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in your lives.

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐳𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 ─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: unrequited love manifests itself as a beautiful disease

★ 𝐜𝐰/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: first-person pov, university au, hanahaki disease, ANGST with no happy ending

★ 𝐰𝐜: 2k

★ 𝐚/𝐧: zayne, i'm so sorry </3

Google Search: Why am I throwing up flowers??????

Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病 (Japanese); 하나하키병 (Korean); 花吐病 (Chinese)) is a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings, or when the victim dies. The flowers can now be surgically removed, but all feelings towards the beloved will dissipate.

I already knew what it was. Everyone does. From the first tulip petal I coughed out while working on my essay, to the bouquet that came up from my lungs, covered in blood, just days later.

It was progressing rapidly as the days went on, and everytime I took a breath my lungs would constrict; the vines curling around them, crushing my breathing ability, and my heart.

At first, I tried to ignore it. I’d go out with friends and attempt to go to class, but I felt embarrassed. Ashamed, even. I could feel their eyes on me, watching as I tried to smother my chokes in the middle of a lecture, only to have to dismiss myself to throw up a rose in the hallway.

It’s not like I could go through campus and see him, the one who gave me this. I ignored his calls, ignored his texts. Not that they came often anyways.

‘Are you okay?’

No, Zayne, do I look like I’m okay? I’m sitting in a pile of flower petals and my own blood on my bathroom floor.

Zayne. He was my childhood best friend, and growing up it always felt like I had to fight for an ounce of his attention. He was top of the class in highschool, popular with all the girls for being smart, stoic, and undeniably sexy. Not once did he entertain any of them, and it made them want him so much more. I was excited for college, thinking I could finally have him to myself, without feeling like I was sharing him with the whole school and his extra curriculars. I knew realistically he’d still lack the time for me, studying biology to go to med school, become a doctor, follow his dreams; and I would never be one to step in the way of that. I knew my place. I was just his best friend. I was aware there were boundaries I shouldn’t cross.

At least, until now.

I remember the moment it hit me.

After days, weeks of begging him, I had finally convinced the introverted, brooding nerd to go to a stupid frat party. For the laughs, I had said, follow the college stereotypes. ‘You only live once, Zayne!’ He humored me, I’ll be grateful for that. Giving it barely an hour (and a few free drinks), he quickly got sick of everything, inviting me outside. We sat outside on the driveway, the cool air a breath of freshness compared to the stuffy, sweat smell from inside.

A dumb rap song played inside, and Zayne looked over to me.

“Slow dance with me.”

I smiled and rolled my eyes, knowing it was the alcohol talking and not him. He’d regret this in the morning, and I’d get a stern talking to.

He stood, reaching his hand out, narrowing his eyes. I took his hand, figuring the least I could do was indulge in this moment. For once, his attention was fully on me.

I laughed as we swayed together, a muffled remix of a shitty rap song as our only background music. Looking up at him, I questioned when he had grown up so much. His once round, soft face with chubby baby cheeks had matured into a sharp jawline and high cheekbones I thought about grazing my hand over. Behind his eyes wasn’t a childish glint anymore, and I wondered how long ago that disappeared.

Pressing my face into his chest, I only felt us. One of his arms around my waist, the other holding my hand that was pressed against his shoulder. My free hand clutched his black jacket, like he would disappear into thin air, and my grasp was the only thing keeping him here.

To a passerby, it would’ve looked like a movie; two college kids dancing together outside of a frat party, holding onto each other like it’s the end of a world. In the movie, the two best friends would confess to each other the next day. The boy would rush to the girl's door, with a bouquet of flowers, gasping for air, saying “I love you, I love you, I love you, I never realized that I did.”

But only I realized. Only I realized I loved him.

Zayne never showed up on my doorstep the day after he walked me home that night. The only flowers I got were the ones that filled my lungs.

I refused to speak to him. I wasn’t mad at him, why would I be? It was my fault for forgetting my boundaries. For forgetting the rules. For thinking I had a chance since all the little highschool girls no longer followed him around like lost dogs. For once thinking that I was no longer his side character, for thinking maybe I could be his love interest in his story.

What would I say to him if we did speak? I couldn’t hide what was growing inside my chest. I couldn't hide my split lips from the thorns, or my scratchy voice. The dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, too busy catching up on work from missed classes and not getting a break from coughing or vomiting. Tell him I was sick? He’d scold me for not taking care of myself, that I need to rest and eat properly. I didn’t want to hear it, scolding me for something he caused. His concern would only grow when I would accidentally cough up a flower in front of him.

Would he ask who I loved? Or would he just look right through me and tell me I needed to get the surgery to fix all of this. ‘Nobody is worth that kind of illness’ He’d say bluntly.

I knew I couldn’t face him. Not knowing if he even cares, yet knowing that the way I look at his face is different from the way he looks at mine. How he sees his future with someone who isn’t me.

“What are you going to do?” I was hanging out with a friend from one of my classes, Tara. She was the only person I felt like I could confide in about all of this.

We were hanging out at one of the campus coffee shops when I told her. It was a good day for my lungs, after almost overdosing on decongestants and ibuprofen.

“I’m not sure.” Twirling my spoon in my cup, I avoided her eyes. “It’s not like I can get the surgery. I can’t afford it.”

She looked me up and down, and I felt as if she could see into my soul. She did, Tara was like that.

“Can your pockets not afford it, or can you not afford it?”

Tara was right. I could afford the surgery, my university healthcare covered the surgery since students caught the disease so often;

But my heart couldn’t afford it.

It had gotten so used to loving Zayne, it would feel empty without the compassion for him. I feared I may act differently, lacking all love for him. Would he even notice?

I quickly made up my mind, looking out the window - seeing the person I dreaded the most.

Zayne sat outside in a car on the other side of the street, and I could only tell it was him if I stared hard enough. He was holding the hands of a girl I had seen around campus. Zayne had briefly mentioned her a few times, talking about the assignments they’d work on together, and I never thought too much of it.

He brought their hands up to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand, and each of her knuckles. His face was gentle, a look I had never seen on him before. She giggled, and I wondered what it would be like to be her. To have him stare at me with all the love in the world, to be able to feel his soft pink lips I had stared at so many times, wishing to just touch, to just feel. To be on the receiving side of his care, his compassion, no more blunt harsh responses and stern looks.

“Hey-”

I turned back to Tara, and coughed up a flower on the table, and I choked back a sob. Tears threatened to poor, but I couldn’t embarrass myself more than I had with the bloody peony in front of me. She came around the table and hugged me, and I mumbled through quivering lips, “Can you take me home please?”

That night the girl had made it official that she and Zayne were dating. All the pictures on social media, the hearts that their friends commented on each other's posts. A disgruntled feeling made my chest spasm, any time I’d post a picture of Zayne he’d make me take it down immediately.

The morning of my surgery, I got up and put on my favorite sweater Zayne had gotten me for my sixteenth birthday.

“I got it for you last month when you stared at it in the shop’s window.” He smiled when he saw my excitement, one of the rare moments I could see his lips turn upward.

On my walk to the bus stop, I saw him sitting there. Once he looked up and saw me, he stood.

“Where have you been?” Zayne looked at me and frowned. I suppressed the immediate urge to roll my eyes.

“I never see you around campus. You’re never in your usual spots, and I texted you. I was supposed to help you study. Are you still attending your classes?” Even after not seeing each other for weeks, he still found a way to shame me. His eyes hard, lips pressed together into a tight line, I wasn’t even sure he was happy to see me.

The bus pulled up.

“Are you going to take the bus?” I asked him, avoiding his gaze.

He shook his head, “No, I’m waiting for-”

“Yeah, okay. I have to go.”

“Wait,” I turned around to him. It had begun to snow, so the small flakes sparkled on his head in the early morning light like glitter. He always loved winter, the snow.

He stared at me for a few seconds before shaking his head, changing his mind.

I nodded. “I’ll see you, Zayne.” Saying his name felt like acid on my tongue.

Turning around without taking another look at him, I boarded the bus.

Two days later, when I finally came home from my surgery, the only difference I could tell at first was that my chest didn’t hurt anymore. I could finally breathe again without feeling like I was choking on air. The doctors gave me a bag of all the flowers that they collected out of me, and at first I refused to look at them.

Yet as soon as I got home, I felt compelled to sit on my floor and sort through them.

I made piles of each flower, twirling them in my fingers before placing them in their designated places. Some had long vines that I used to tie them together into a crown.

After I finished, I spotted a jacket under my bed. I pulled it out to see it was the black jacket he wore the night we danced together outside that stupid party.

I took a deep breath of it, wishing I would feel the same way I did that night;

But I felt nothing.

It was now just a jacket. He was now just Zayne.

I put it on, wrapping it tightly around my body. I nestled the flowers along my head like a crown of thorns.

Looking at the girl in the mirror, staring at her with her blood stained flower crown, I broke down.

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Meetings On Window Sills

masterlist

note: I fucking love 60s-70s music so there's a lot of it mentioned, and also remus is a full blown music nerd so why would i not make them bond over music?? also this was inspired by 2007s Jump In! starring my first crush: corbin bleu lol

warnings: didn't edit (don't care), little tiny bit of angst between remus and his dad, smoking, remus having back problems since 11 and a city boy, reader has hair long enough to put in a claw clip

word count: 3.8 k

♡ summary: Many don't know that during summer, Remus goes home to a muggle girl, and he spends more time on his fire escape than in his room some days

♡ Remus Lupin x fem!muggle!reader

request ✗

1971

He’d known her his whole life, well since he was 6 months old. Their mums had both gone to the same ‘mommy and me’ class and hit it off when they both took a smoke break. Since then their mums had noticed they didn’t have much in common and grew apart, not after buying apartments in the same building.

Remus stretched his back, hands on his waist while leaning back, just having done all his folding, getting ready to organize in his trunk. As he stood from the small single bed in the corner he heard the soft hum of music coming from outside, the young boy lifted his widow, needing much more force than when it was made. 

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” 

Remus looks to her widow, seeing the record player playing on her desk while she reads, not seeming to be doing a whole lot of that though. From his view it looks to be Little Women, which he had read and which he would never tell her, but he had been bored on a visit to his grandparents before they died and that was the only book in his moms childhood room, so he read it and enjoyed it enough to finish and not have much of a critic.

“You always sing that song much louder than the rest.” 

His sudden voice caused the girl to jump in her seat, putting the book down and turning down the record she looked at to him, slightly embarrassed at him catching her. 

“It’s my favourite.” She said moving to sit on her window seat. Remus of course noticed this as a sign that she wanted to continue the conversation, he also noticed the way she played with the bottom button of her cardigan. The boy exited his window onto the fire escape to sit on the window sill.

“It’s The Beatles?” “Yeah, my mum got it for me for Christmas last year. Along with George Harrison’s solo album, ‘cause he’s my favourite Beatle- he actually wrote the song I was singing.” She knew she went on a little too long but Remus wouldn’t stop her, that was the type of person he was, kind hearted. When he listened to her, he really listened, he heard every word and took it in.

“Because he wrote your favourite song?” “Not just that, but I guess that’s where it started then I looked through all my albums and all my favourite songs he wrote.” She briefly pointed behind her and he saw the self of records behind her.

“What ones?” He asked, getting more comfortable by leaning his back on one side of the window frame.

“Umm, I’m happy just to dance with you, and of course here comes the sun.” “That’s me mum's favourite, tells me every time it’s on the radio.” 

The conversation stalls, to avoid awkward stares Remus looks down to the street and watches a man with a yellow jacket cross the street, it glowing in the yellow street lights. His stare only breaks when he hears her voice ask, “What’re you packing for?”

“Oh- That..” Her brows furrow at the nervous tone, he wasn’t sure how to tell her, it wasn’t like they were best friends, they talked once in a while like how they are now and would see eachother at school, “I wasn’t sure how to tell people, I’m going to a different school next year.” “Where?” “It’s a boarding school up in Scotland.” “Why are they making you go?” 

Remus would be lying to say that didn’t surprise him, she sounded like she would miss him a little more than he thought she would, and that deeply confused him.

“My father went so-” It’s interesting how much truth he could say while withholding the biggest piece of information from her.

“That sucks. Aren’t you going to miss your friends.” “I never had many friends.” Overstatement. He had no friends, never really did, kids at school made fun of his scars, or for being a nerd, or for having second hand clothes that his mother still had to sew to be wearable; take your pick really. 

“Not many people like me.” “I like you.” Remus’s head lifted from its stare at his swinging legs, “As- as a friend of course.” “Of course, I like you as a friend too.” 

-

1973 

As soon as he walked through the door, Remus set on the way to his window, leaving his trunk at the door. 

“Hun! Where’re you going so fast?” His mum asked, placing the keys in the bowl by the door, and putting her hands on her hips. His father made his way past her to the kitchen.

“I missed my room!” He yelled, never slowing down the hall. Once they believed he was out of ear shot, he heard his father say, “He wants to see Jen’s girl.” 

As he got closer to her window he saw the girls laying on her back legs up resting on the wall while she read. Her head snapped to the window after the first knock, a large grin making its way to her face. She rolled off her bed and opened the window for him and he heard the tune of Bowie flowing through the room.

She crawled half out the window to hug him, her arms going around his neck and he held her back, his hands felt warm, his embrace felt safe. He wore a thin jumper that felt soft on her skin.

“I’m so happy you’re back.” “Me too.” They say, pulling back and getting comfortable on the window sill. She was still smiling at him, and him at her, before Remus felt he had to look away or he would explode. He took the moment to look at her room and it had changed quite a bit since last summer; bed against a new wall, something she did when she felt she needed a change. He noticed her vinyl collection had grown.

“You finally got Ziggy Stardust!” “Oh yeah!” She jumped off the ledge they sat on and made her way to put it on. 

“I went with some friends to London and we got to go to a huge record shop. Remus you wouldn’t believe the stuff they had there- they had Bob Dylan’s first album so my collection of his is complete.” “Brilliant.” Remus sat down on her window seat bench and grabbed the album from her shelf to get a closer look. With the Bowie record set up, she nudged the volume dial up before returning next to the boy. She hit his leg to get his attention, “Listen to this first one it’s my favourite.” 

He put the Bob Dylan album down to give his full attention to the music. 

Many hours later, the two were still perfectly content listening to album after album, pausing their conversation when a particularly good verse came. They were now on the floor of her room, the girl laid out on her carpet flooring, looking just as carefree and stunning as ever. 

“Joni next?” She said as the album playing came to a close, before he could respond they heard a knock on the window, it was his dad.

“Bit late, innit? ‘S past one, Remus.” “Sorry, Mr. Lupin, we lost track of time.” “‘S alright, dear, but come to bed Remus.” “Okay.” 

His father went back through the window and waited. Remus stood the floor and stretched his back, the girl stood as well, “Tomorrow?” “Yeah.” “G’night, Rem.” “G’night.” 

He joined his dad out on the fire escape as they made their way back to his room, once they got inside and closed the window his father broke the silence. “I know you like that girl, but you’ve ‘ot to keep her out of this world, especially with what you are.” 

And just like, an otherwise perfect night, ruined by one comment by his father. 

“I know.” “Alright. G’night, son.” The door shut behind him, and when he heard that click he let the tear drop.

He knew from his friends that  some people don’t care, they found out this past school year and he still hasn’t told his parents that fact. But for all his life he’s heard otherwise, and he can’t help but think one day the boy’s will come to their senses and leave him all alone again. Y/n though, a muggle, if he ever told her he can imagine that  best case scenario is him having to use obliviate.

-

1975 

Remus retreated to his room after dinner, wanting to sleep or read or something that didn’t involve more people, it had been a long day even before he got on the train home for the summer. As he grabbed the book on his desk he saw a trail of smoke leading to a certain girl’s bedroom, he leaned forward to see her with her glasses on, smoking a cigarette, and wearing mismatching pajamas.

He lifted the window with ease, causing the girl to flick her eyes back to him, “You're back.” “Same time every year.” Both shared a look with smiles on their faces, the girl broke eye contact to grab her pack of cigarettes, and overing him with one.

“Yeah.” He climbs out the window and comes to now sit on her window sill and takes his own cigarette, she grabs the light from behind her and he lets her light his. Her fingertips brushing against his check as she blocks the blooming flame from the soft summer breeze.

He takes the chance to gaze at her lips, wrapped around the cigarette, residue of lipstick left behind, a soft red. She never needed the makeup, but sometimes if he woke up early he could watch her put it on. A moment that he found she looked the most beautiful, practiced movements, mouthing the words to whatever song she was listening to, and the funny faces she made made him smile. 

“I missed you.” “Yeah?” A smile creeped on his face as he looked into her eyes. “Yeah.” “I missed you too. I always do.”

The girl looks away, a smile on her face, unaware that Remus continues his stare looking from her eyes to her smile and the way her hair falls in its clip. She wore a thin olive green tank top, he could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra so he moved his eyes to the clouds she was looking at. 

“How’re your friends?” Sometimes she felt as though she knew the boys, with how much Remus talked about them, her mind began to wonder if they knew as much about her as she knew about them.

“They’re just the same pricks they’ve always been.” “James got any farther with Lily?” She muttered, flicking off her cigarette and taking another puff, she looked so beautiful and natural. She had glasses that fell down her nose, messy hair that she liked that way, and a laugh like no other.

“Lils would like me to say ‘no’, but I think she likes him a lot more than she cares to share.” “That’s the way it always goes.” She trailed off, to look at him and he was already looking at her.

It was second year Remus became friends with Lily, they were paired up for a project together and became close. At first she was jealous of the girl, she felt that Lily was going to take her spot in Remus’ life, it weirdly enough was when she heard of James’ fondness for the ginger girl that she no longer worried. Well that and the fact that Remus never did anything to insinuate that he was any less friends with her because of Lily. 

And what she didn’t know was that half of the time he was with Lily, he ended up bringing up her.

-

1977 

Y/n was waiting all day for Remus to come home, she never left her room the whole day in waiting. Looking to his window every ten minutes in hope she would see her lanky boy crawling out his window.

It was late in the evening when she came back from the bathroom and immediately went to check, she almost didn’t believe her eyes when she saw the lamp beside his bed on. The girl shrugged on her cardigan that was lying across her desk chair, and crawled out the window.

Remus had just gotten back from a nice dinner with his parents, this was his last summer as a kid and they wanted to make it special from the beginning, especially since next week he was going to spend a month at the Potter’s. 

He was interrupted from changing by a knock on his window, he turned on his heels to see the girl he’s been waiting all year to see. Her smile lights up his face, she looks away and it takes him a moment to realize it’s because he isn’t wearing a shirt, clad in nothing but pajama pants gifted to him by Peter. He quickly slips on a jumper before he opens the window and she stumbles into his room. 

“Hey.” “Hi.” They each silently take this moment to get a look at eachother, the girl noticed that she could see that scar on his chest end just where his jumper begins, it’s surprising that she could know him since they were babies yet doesn’t know when he got that scar. To be honest she never asked about them, she could tell he was insecure about the way he looked, though in her mind there was no need to be.

During this Remus is having his own thoughts about her looks, she was wearing that cardigan she’s had since she was ten, underneath was a tank top like she commonly wore. Her hair was up in a clip, the same ones Mary always wore, small pieces of hair falling out. She was beautiful.

“Urm.. How have you been?” The boy asked justering for her to sit as he took a seat on his bed. She joined him, leaning against the wall and pulled a carton of cigarettes out of her cardigan pocket. 

“Good, yeah I’m good. You?” She replied, feeling around her pockets, “No lighter.” He stood from the bed and went to his dresser drawer, retrieving the pink lighter and throwing it to the girl, she caught it with ease yet didn’t begin to light.

“Is this the lighter I gave you?” 

When they were fifteen, they first smoked weed together, at a nearby park in order to not get caught by their parents. And Y/n, high, had given Remus her lighter when they had climbed back up the fire escape to their windows and told him, “This is my favourite lighter. I don’t know why? I think ‘cause it’s pink, so that means it’s lucky- ‘cause the lighter is lucky it’s pink and not some boring lighter like yours- No, you know what Remus? You should take this one, ‘cause it’s luckier and prettier than yours. But keep it safe, it’s my favourite.” 

That night Remus put it in his sock drawer to keep safe, he never wanted to use it or worse lose it, so he kept it safe just as she asked.

“Um, yeah.” He mumbled, a little embarrassed at the amount of sentiment he put into that cheap lighter. 

“You kept it?” “Yeah, you told me to.” 

He becomes even more embarrassed when she chuckles. She looks down at it in her hands, her chuckle dying down and smile slips. There's a moment of silence as Remus doesn’t know what to say so he just returns to his spot on the bed next to her. She doesn’t look up at him still as she asks, “Why did you keep it?” 

Truthfully Remus does know why he kept it, it was just because she gave it to him, but if that sounds lame in his head it will most definitely sound lame if he says it to the girl he likes, no love, he’s always known he loved her. So once again he’ll chicken out and doesn’t respond.

She waits for his answer, and when it never comes, “Is it.. For the reason I think?” She boldly asks, looking at the side of his face as he has not looked away from the spot on the wall in front of them. 

Another moment, and the beautiful girl tries to get his attention by leaning her face in his line of vision. His gaze is unnerved, he’s too consumed by the thoughts running in his mind, until they all go silent.

She presses a kiss to the side of his mouth and says, “I like you too.”

Head snaps to look at her, eye to eye, nose to nose, and finally lips to lips as Remus presses a hard kiss right on her lips. She immediately begins kissing back, and trying to take control but to her surprise Remus is a lot more comfortable in his actions now and is the one leading the kiss and pushing his tongue between her soft lips, which she gladly accepts.

The girl trails her hand up the inside of his thigh before skipping up to hold his jaw, Remus at the same time grabs her hips and squeezes, causing Y/n to swing one leg over his and straddle the boy’s lap. Her hands fall from his jaw, to his neck, to his chest and pushes him away lightly.

Both slowly allow their eyes to open and look at eachother, smiles mirroring each other. 

“So-” “Boyfriend girlfriend?” “Yeah, that’s cool.”

-

1977

“I’ll get the Bowie album, then we can listen to it when you get back.” “When’s it coming out?” “October.”

The girl replied, her head lying on his bicep as she played with his hand, drawing shapes and tracing his veins. In his other hand, resting on her stomach, Remus held the book he and Lily decided to read over the break for their informal book club. 

Y/n thought about asking what she’s been wanting to ask since they’ve gotten together, “Are you going to come home for Christmas?” The last time he did was fifth year, last year he had gone to his friend James’ house. And from what he told her, he had the best time, so you can see she was a little worried he would do that again and she wouldn’t get to see her boyfriend till next summer.

What she didn’t know was that Remus was hoping to avoid this at any cost, it was a full moon this christmas. So even if he did come home, he wouldn’t even get to see her much.

“I haven’t thought about it.” “Oh.” Damn, wrong thing to say. She thought about it. She asked him. She wanted him there.

“I mean- I would love to come home and see you! I just- I don’t know if-” “What?” 

She saw the hurt in his face, she knew whatever he was thinking about he was trying to push down and resist it, she sat up and sat crisscrossed facing him. She leaned down and grabbed his hands, gently taking the book out of his hands and marking the page by folding the corner.

“What’s wrong, Remus?... You can tell me.” “That’s just it- I can’t, or rather I shouldn’t.” “Okay, now I’m confused.” She scoffed, shaking her head and standing up to get some space, “What can you not tell me. I tell you everything.” 

Remus sat up, leaning against the wall on his bed, head in his hands, thinking about everything. Everything he ‘couldn’t’ tell her, if he couldn’t trust her he believed he couldn’t trust anyone ever again.

“Okay, you have to believe me though, and it’s going to sound like I’ve gone mad. So just remember that I know how absolutely insane I sound, and that I’m still telling you because I trust you. More than anyone.” Met with slight hesitance, Y/n replies, “Okay.”

“I’m a wizard.” He waits for the big reaction that never comes, he stares at the confused face of his girlfriend before he stands and goes to his bottom desk drawer and grabs his wand.

“Levioso.” The boy says, pointing at his record player and directing it as it levitates, before ultimately placing it back in the same spot on his dresser. When he looked back at the girl, her jaw opened in shock. 

“Holy fucking SHIT!... That just- in air! You are!” “A wizard? Yes.” “How? I mean- you- what?” 

Remus came to her side, guiding her to sit with him on his bed, “I know this is a lot to take in, but I’ve got more.” “MORE?” She looked towards him, concerned for what was to come.

“Yes. Okay, I’m also a werewolf.” “If I didn’t know you, or see that pissing record player float- God, I’d think you were too far gone.” Her words were a relief, causing Remus to chuckle, but truthfully a weight lifted off his chest, to have the most important person in his life to not judge him, “You have no idea how much that means to me- I’m the same Remus you knew, you just know everything now.” 

-

1977

“So I werewolves are real, what about vampires?” “Yes.” “What?! Am I going to have to worry about them?” “Don’t visit Romania.” “That’s not funny.”

They laid together, well Remus laid done while his girl moved every few moments, very excited about the new world she was learning about, at this moment she sat on the boy’s thighs with her legs straddling them on either side.

“What’s your favourite subject in school? For real, now that I know you don’t actually take English.” “Defence against the dark arts.” “That’s a class?” “Yes, a very important one.” He replied, moving his hands up the girl's thighs, from her knees to grasping her hips. He keeps his hands there, squeezing when he feels like it.

“What’s your least favourite?” “Flying. But I haven’t taken that since first year.” “WHY would you hate flying? That’s the dream.” “I don’t like heights.” “But you’re FLYING! Through the air!” “Really? Well, now I’ve got to rethink things.” “Oh, shut up.” 

Remus was laughing now, and he could tell she was trying hard not to. He pulled her down to him, keeping her there with his hands on her back as he attacked her cheek with kisses, “Ah!” 

The small scream falls on deaf ears as Remus continues kissing her cheeks to her jaw and burrows his head to the crook of her neck. He mumbles something she can’t quite hear, but she can just barely make out the word ‘love’. But still continues to fight him off, “Ah! Rem- tickles!” “Don’t care.”

[emeritusemeritus]

Ok so I was wondering if you could write a Fred Weasley X sarcastic hufflepuff reader and everyone kinda wonders how shes a hufflepuff because she comes off as bitchy but like she super caring with Fred and he’s like the only one that really sees that side of her

Hi Anon! I have to admit I got a little carried away with this one (what’s new). I started writing just a normal fic but it grew beyond measure because I fell in love with the snarky little Hufflepuff I was writing. I hope you enjoy! 🖤

**Part 2 is is HERE**

**important: I wrote this in mind following a masquerade ball that had already happened within the story to mark the anniversary of Hogwarts. **

Warnings: Unrequited love, idiots in love, friends to lovers all the usual divine tropes. Happy ending I promise. Minor sexual references, 1 mention of masturbation, George fancies Angelina. Slight angst? We have a massive crush on Freddie. Bonus points for anyone who knows where the title is from.

Word count: 3.8k (Oops I did it again)

But who can name the face?

"Nerds," you nod in greeting, a wide grin plastered on your face as you barge through their dorm room door, smirking to the two twins who sit hunched over their creations, trying to perfect a new product. George's nose was almost pressed into the book he was reading and Fred was tinkering with something you couldn't make out, probably an explosive of some sort. You jump onto George's bed, the closest one to you and kick off your shoes.

"Make yourself at home," George snarks, shooting a playful glance to you.

"Thanks Georgie I will," you beam, purposefully ignoring the sarcasm dripping from his words. He rolls his eyes with a smile before focusing back on the page.

"Earth to Fred?" You say, noticing a few moments later that he hadn't greeted you. You frown, hearing nothing back and George shoots a glance to you again before turning to his twin, kicking him swiftly in the shin.

"Git," Fred mutters, rubbing his shin and finally noticing that you were here.

"Hello to you too," you snark, watching as his eyes squint mockingly at you.

"Sorry your ladyship, didn't realise you required my full attention," he snarks, expecting a reaction that he doesn't get.

"Well I do," you nod, your voice and face completely blank until you erupt in a smirk that he mirrors.

"What are you working on?"

"Wait how did you get in here? You're a Hufflepuff!" George gestures to the Gryffindor boys dormitory you're sat in, but your face reveals nothing. Fred knows because of course he does, you've been here more times than you can count but George is usually not here when you sneak in.

"I believe I asked a question first, but if you must know," you lean in towards George, acting as if you were going to reveal an entire catalogue of secrets to him. "I'm a witch."

The deep sigh that George lets out only increases your devilish smile that you share with Fred, widening still when you hear him burst with laughter, the sound of his boisterous laugh filling your body with warmth. He had the most gorgeous laugh and you couldn't help but admire how handsome he looked when he laughed, eyes shining.

"Sodding woman," George mutters under his breath as he picks up the book again, pretending to read. You don't miss the smirk that's threatening to slip from his lips that he's trying so hard to conceal, making you feel a little victorious.

"So back to me, what are you working on?"

"Love potions," Fred says absently, as if it wasn't a big deal.

Your stomach roils dangerously, a sinking feeling settling in your lower tummy as Fred's words.

"Love potions?" You repeat, hardly hiding the frown on your face. You look between the twins but they offer nothing in the way of clues. Fred finally looks up to you again, shrugging slightly as he explains.

"Figured we could start selling them at the shop, break into the girly market. These are just drafts, we realised early on we don't have a bloody clue what we're doing with them."

"Draft draughts?" You joke, squashing down any uneasy feelings you felt. George snorts and Fred chuckles at your words as he nods, enjoying the stupid pun.

"Fancy helping a mate out?" He asks, trying to reel you into helping with whatever he was tinkering with, holding his hand out for you to take. "Could do with your expertise little badger."

You roll your eyes at the nickname but hop off George's bed to grab his hand, letting him lead you over to look at his little experiment, seeing a kind of heart shaped bottle that he was trying to transfigure. You offer to help him transfigure it into more of a heart and somehow manage to tint the glass pink which they both like.

"So why the sudden need to break into the girly market?" You ask, head cocked slightly as you look upon the bottle that you're quite proud of.

"Got love on the brain doesn't he," George says with a laugh, only to duck a moment later when Fred lobs a book at his head.

"What?" You ask, trying to sound neutral but fearing you were failing miserably.

"Met a girl the other night didn't he, hasn't shut up about her since," George adds, clearly unbothered by Fred's reaction as he ducks another flying object thrown by his bemused twin.

"You wouldn't shut up about her if you met her," he grumbles, cheeks filling with a vibrant blush. "Didn't even know girls could be that attractive, she was perfect mate."

"What from the half of her face that you saw?" George snarks, a loud 'ow' echoing through the room as he fails to duck this time.

You don't hear anymore, your heart pounding in your chest and you feel sick almost instantly, the room seeming to spin around you. Fred had met someone at the masquerade ball.

The Masquerade Ball was an extravagant affair marking the one thousandth year of Hogwarts since the founding of the school in 996AD. In honour of the ancient traditions, a masquerade ball had been held which would bring all the students together regardless of their assorted houses. You could be as anonymous as you wished, no need to disclose your house or your name and dates were not permitted in an effort to unite the school free from the usual restrictions that naturally came from house only events. Due to the enchantments upon the school, the masks were implemented to hide your identity for the night with made everything even more magical. You'd had a wonderful night, second only to the Yule ball though you really couldn't compare them.

You remembered now that you hadn't seen Fred all night, not for your lack of trying and now it all makes sense why. You need to get out before the tears really start, your world feeling like it was crumbling around you.

"Sorry, forgot about my potions work," you say quickly, reaching for your shoes and rushing out of the door before either of them could notice your tears.

You barely make it out of Gryffindor tower when your tears begin to stream down your face, lip wobbling as their words echo through your mind. You run to the nearest bathroom, praying that it's empty and rush into a cubicle to allow yourself some privacy in your heartbroken state.

You'd had a crush of Fred Weasley forever. The unlikely pair that you were, the hufflepuff and the Gryffindor brought together by mischief. You'd started falling for him in your second year but managed to keep it quiet, to push it away and keep it hidden in the hopes that it would fade over time... but it didn't. By your fourth year you had a full blown crush and by your fifth you were convinced you loved him. Every summer you wished that upon your return to school that your feelings would have disappeared or at least faded but the second that he'd smile at you, throwing his arm around you in a warm greeting you knew that your hoping was pointless. You'd spent years perfecting your ability to hide your feelings from him, torturing yourself in private to allow you to keep feelings-free around him. You reasoned that it was better to have him in your life as a best friend than to be without him completely and you were fine with that, at least until now. There's never been another girl as far as you remembered. Sure his friendship with Angelina sometimes made you jealous but you were sure that George fancied her and Fred was just trying to rile him up most of the time to get a reaction. But this mystery girl, he'd fallen for him without even knowing her, without even seeing her full face. She's stolen him away from you without a single thought and you didn't even know who she was to hate her.

Once you'd gotten most of your feelings out, you thought of the one thing that had kept you going all week. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on you, but it was different for you.

You'd also met someone at the ball, the masked man with the black hair and robes so entrancing that he'd actually made you forget about Fred entirely for the short time you spent together. He had a magic laugh, magnetic really that made you feel drawn to him even without knowing anything about him. You'd felt connected to him instantly, even as your eyes searched for Fred in the crowd of people but finding nothing. At least now you knew where he was.

You let out a sigh, wiping your last couple of tears with the sleeve of your robe as you took deep breaths to steady yourself. How could you go on from this? The masked man had been your dirty little secret that you'd never intended to go anywhere, as much as he kept sneaking into your mind.

Fred Weasley would never be yours. It was a fact, as excruciating as it was to admit. Someone else had turned his head, not that he was ever really looking at you and all you could do is sit back and watch with thoughts of your mystery man to keep you company.

You managed to avoid Fred and George for the next two days pretty successfully. You weren't as popular as them but you had some good friends in Hufflepuff that you chose to sit with at meal times and stayed within the common room for most of your free time, knowing that Fred and George couldn't find you there.

"Are you coming to dinner?" One of your friends asks, waiting for you in the common room as you finish up the chapter of the book you were reading.

"Yeah sure," you say, placing in your bookmark and casting your book onto the side.

You follow her out of the common room past the barrels into the dark corridor and scream as you're dragged away by two strong figures. You look back to your friend in alarm seeing her mouth a half-hearted 'sorry' and try to fight off your attackers, quickly getting the sense of who was manhandling you.

"Put me down, idiots!" You say struggling against their weirdly strong grasps, not stopping until you were placed onto a bench in the next corridor. You look up and see Fred and George towering over you, their eyes fixed into hard stares as they look at you, Fred with his arms crossed and George with his hands in his pockets, shoulders stiff.

"You've been avoiding us," George accuses, openly saying the words that you knew were true. You can't bring yourself to deny it, or avoid the question, all you can think is how to make an excuse that would explain it all.

"No excuses," Fred says, clearly reading your face. Damn him for knowing you so bloody well.

"I've been busy," you say, lifting an eyebrow at them.

"Yeah, busy avoiding us," Fred says, his lips pursing a little as he looks down at you.

"Busy doing school work," you counter.

"Oh yeah what class?" George asks, though you can tell in his void that he's not falling for it one bit.

"All of them," you say, quickly adding, "you know I get surprisingly little work done when I'm with you two, funny that."

"Yeah nice one, tell it to my mother," Fred says completely deadpan. You sigh, knowing you're not going to get out of this one alive.

"I've just been busy," you say, lowering your barriers a little but keeping that little confession of love stored neatly tucked away where it would never come out no matter how open you were being. "Needed a couple of days to myself... people were starting to think I was a Gryffindor."

Fred's face remains unchanged but you can see the ghost of a smile pulling at George's face.

"It wasn't you, I just had a lot going on," you say with complete honesty, well maybe not complete.

"Needed a couple of days to get my head together, I've been drowning in homework and I'm think I'm failing charms. I honestly just needed a couple of days to sort myself out before they send an owl home and my parents would know how much in disappointing them."

Okay so not a complete lie, but not the complete truth either.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Fred says, his harsh glaze slipping from his face as he crouched down beside the bench you're sat on, his head still inline with yours at his astronomical height. George relaxes in front of you, scooting you across so he can sit on the other side of the bench. You feel awful essentially lying to them, though it was more altered truth but you could face them knowing, especially Fred.

"Embarrassed, mortified, horrified, you choose."

"It's us, you don't need to be embarrassed with us," George says softly. Usually your relationship was filled with vicious banter so seeing him so soft and kind with you was nice if not a little off putting.

"Anyway, now I have you back," Fred says with a smirk blooming on his face.

"We," George adds, shooting a look to his twin.

"Eh? Oh yeah... how come you never told us your common room was down here?! You could have been sneaking us treats this whole time!"

"Would have saved our legs many a trip to the kitchens!"

"Length of your legs it only takes three steps," you quip back to George who smiles widely.

"There she is," Fred says smiling at you. It's a beaming smile, eyes glimmering and it makes your heart burst to know that it's all for you. Fred suddenly stands, holding out his hand for you to take as you hop off the bench but to your surprise he doesn't let go and instead pulls you away, still holding your hand as you walk around the corner to the kitchen corridor, passing the painting of the silver fruit bowl that conceals the entrance to the kitchens.

"See all those times you've apparently come up to our room, could have brought the snacks," george says, bumping your shoulder as he nods to the door as you make your way past it. "All you have to do is," George says, walking in sync and surprisingly saying nothing at his brother's hand in yours.

"If you think I'm going to stop and tickle the pear every time I come to see you," you begin to say, only to be cut off by Fred.

"You can tickle my pair anytime, babe."

"Shove off Weasley," you say with a bite, trying to recover from his words quickly and fight off the blush that threatens your heating cheeks as they laugh amongst themselves.

"Well if you're offering," George says from the other side, to which you side step and hold out your foot, causing him to trip. He catches himself quickly before he falls but it's still pretty funny, as made apparent by yours and Fred's laughter.

"Thought you Hufflepuffs were supposed to be nice!"

"Coming from you?" You counter, sending a frown towards him, able to list off the top of your head a multitude of times he'd pranked someone, caused damage or injury and that was mainly just to yourself.

"She is nice," Fred quickly defends, shooting his brother a dung-eating grin, "to me at least."

You chuckle and carry on walking, watching out for George's revenge.

"Hold up, wait here," Fred suddenly says, coming to an abrupt halt near the main atrium. He grabs your arm to stop you, his hand breaking free from yours as he holds up a finger and runs back down the corridor.

You watch his figure disappear and squeeze your now unoccupied hand, your body already missing his touch. Truthfully the past few days had been torture being away from them, namely Fred, but it was necessary to contain the feelings that has threatened to burst out of you like a broken remembrall.

Suddenly there's a gasp to your side and you spin around quickly on your heel to face George, who is looking at you with wide eyes and a Zouwu like grin etched upon his face. You frown in confusion, not knowing what he's looking at until your entire body fills with dread with his next words.

"You're in love with him!"

You panic, not knowing what to do with the information. You can hardly deny it, it would be impossible to hide from George now he knew and you're certain that your reaction has given you away, so you go to the next default setting: threats.

"One word comes out of your mouth to anyone and I'll tell Angelina that I walked in on you wanking over her!"

George faces pales for a second before his cheeks heat up with a vivid red blush that spreads the full length of his face.

"But that didn't."

"Your old friend... Angelina Johnson... the Qudditch team captain," you say, ignoring his looks as you tilt your voice to sound more and more disgusted at his behaviour with every passing word.

"What? You can't."

"Naked on a broom, George Weasley! Could you be any more depraved?"

"Alright fine!" He says, holding his hands up in surrender, not wanting to push you further and find out that you weren't bluffing.

"I won't say anything to Fred," he promises, looking genuine in his agreement.

It's awkward now, the silence that follows as you come to terms that George is in on your secret now.

You don't look at him any longer, instead fixing your gaze to the stone floor as you consider the implications. Had you looked at George, you'd have noticed him battling with himself, fighting over what to say next. It wasn't his secret to tell, he shouldn't even be considering breaking him twin's confidence but the look on your face right now was enough to break whatever morality he had.

"You know... he's," George begins to say, your gaze drifting up towards him as you look into his eyes, expecting laughter or mocking but finding none.

"He's what?" You ask, confused about his sudden stop, eyes widening.

"He's coming."

"I was only gone for a minute, you two haven't fallen out already have you?" Fred jokes, his pockets clearly stuffed with treats that he'd acquired from the kitchens.

"No," you and George say at precisely the same time. So much for not looking suspicious. Fred trots off ahead urging you both to follow and you do so willingly and silently, hardly trusting yourself to speak in that moment as you feel George's eyes on you.

"Everything alright with y/n earlier? She seemed upset when I got back. Are you sure you didn't say anything to her?" Fred asks, taking off his tie and his school shirt as he undresses for bed, calling to George who's doing the same on the other side of the room.

"I didn't say anything mate," George says, "reckon you're thinking about her too much."

"Just being a friend," Fred says, perhaps a little too quickly.

"Well between 'being a friend' to y/n and your mystery woman, you certainly are doing a lot of thinking... reckon if you ignore one of them you might finally figure out that love potion," George says grinning as he climbs into bed.

"Shove off," Fred says, climbing into his own bed and pulling the curtain across with a harsh shove. He lays in bed unsettled for what seems like hours, his mind spinning between his friend and his mystery woman, realising with a sad conclusion that he'd gotten absolutely nowhere with either one of them.

♡

Fred Weasley was certain that his eyes had never been blessed enough to look upon something so captivating, so enchanting that it made his mouth dry. There was a sea of people around dressed in their fanciest clothes, an opulent symphony of colour and glitter, yet she stood out amongst the crowd like a singular lighthouse in a vast, dark ocean.

He was enthralled by the way her dress moved, clinging perfectly to her figure, highlighting the delicate curves and lines of her body whilst staying modest. It was arousing, the way her dress offered so much but showed so little, Fred's imagination running wild of what lay underneath.

She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman Fred had even laid eyes upon, he was certain. Her dress shining under the twinkling lights, her seductive smile and those eyes that seemed to twinkle all on their own even without the glistening reflection of the lights above her.

He was certain that he was the luckiest bloke in the room; that every other male was envious of the way his hand was wrapped tightly around her waist. But he didn't care what anyone thought or of their jealousy in the moment, he just couldn't believe his luck. They were pulled together as if my an invisible string, finding each other quickly as the music played around them, the soft lights acting like a runway between them both, eyes connecting almost immediately.

"Are you going to tell me your name?" He asks with a smirk, losing himself in her eyes as they seem to glimmer even more at his words.

"I don't think that's how masquerade balls work," she says with a laugh, earning a chuckle from him.

"What about your house?" He follows up, needing to know something about her even if it's tangible evidence.

The smile she flashes him makes him almost dizzy, sparkling eyes peering up at him from beneath her mask.

"Only if you can guess it," she counters, leading him down a dark path of guessing who she might be.

"Sorry I think you've hit your limit on questions," she says as the song changes. "Perhaps I could ask you some?"

"You can ask me anything... except my name," he smirks from under his mask, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips briefly under your gaze.

"Are you single?"

His laughter is contagious and she finds herself chuckling along with him as his hand at her waist squeezes her tighter momentarily for her cheekiness.

"Definitely," he replies softly, though he can't help but feel a little stab at the thought of his best friend, wishing for years that he could say that he wasn't single in the slightest.

♡

Fred wakes with a start, confused for a moment as to his whereabouts having jumped so quickly from his dream to reality. He was back there again, his mind so fixed on his mystery woman that every dream was a recollection of that night, though this time he was certain that there was something different. Had his mystery date always sounded so much like y/n?

Part 2 anyone?

[gladiatorcunt]

summary: situationship!rafe cameron x afab nerd!reader

cw: angst undertones w/ a hopeful ending, black cat!coded reader x whatever rafe would be, suggestive action in the shower & mentions of off screen nsfw (cum and thigh fucking but the latter is a bit more graphic lol) , class differences, rafe is pathetic and weird, implied drug use, rafe beats a man but you can decide if he killed him, reader has implied mental health issues and low self esteem, ambiguous feelings on rafe’s part (he said ily but he could be lying), dark content themes, rafe calls reader kitty in both a mean way and a pet name way, if the thing with reader’s first crush sounds too real that’s cause it is 🤫, started my period while i was formatting this (i just thought y’all should know)

wc: 1.9k+

block & move on if uncomfortable !!!

consider commissioning me 🫀

“Hey, babe, would you be a good kitty and let me in?” Is what you’re greeted with when you swing open your screen door. Rafe Cameron looks pleased as punch, all things considered, soaking wet due to the pouring rain and no doubt high as a kite.

The slurred speech doesn’t alarm you as much as the river of blood flowing from his mouth.

“Jesus Christ, Rafe, what the fuck?” You try to sound harsh but the fuck is noticably softer than your other words and Rafe smiles, more blood drips down his chin.

You look over his shoulder to see his bike on its side in the dirt, it’s raining and you just know he’ll be pissed to see the mus clinging to it tomorrow. But for right now, you have an injured situationship to patch up.

He stumbles as you struggle to yank him aside, and he sways but collapses on your couch. You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to lose your shit immediately. The audacity of this man to waltz in on you barely alive and expect some twisted kind of comfort, after everything.

“I was studying you know, textbooks are expensive so don’t start getting your blood on them.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, I know.”

Rafe grunts but keeps his body away from your books. That’s the least he can do, the bare minimum. You sigh and walk over him, kneeling in front of the couch. His eyes are dazed and unfocused as you brush the hair away from his forehead, but his fingers twitch.

“Why did you come here, Rafe? To me?” You whisper, tired and unamused.

You’re startled by his harsh cough, his fingers twitch in your direction again, “ ‘Was nowhere else, wanted you.”

Isn’t that good enough?

You blink dumbly at that, but you have no answer for his crazed ramblings so you slap your knees and make your way to the bathroom. You procure a wet washcloth and some measly bandages, he would just have to deal with it. Rafe’s eyes drag towards you when you kneel back in front of him and bring the cloth to his mouth.

You avoid his stare as you sop up the copious amounts of blood, praying that this wouldn’t need a visit to the hospital. In some ways, you’ve seen too much blood since Rafe Cameron decided to make a mockery of your existence. The gaggle of rich girls he used to have on each arm disappeared but he excused it by detailing his plans to lead you on in front of his friends, checking to see if you were in ear shot.

There’s nothing you did, in your mind. You stuck to yourself and somehow invited the attention of some psycho. That’s the hardest part of the situation, you can’t pinpoint a true beginning. You can only remember being in this murky middle, devoid of an ending. Rafe does have a pretty face though, unfortunately, the water from cloth making his skin glisten. You’ll throw the rag out after this, there’s no point trying to get the stain of blood out of anything.

Eventually, you’re done with the first part and have an excuse to turn away from him. You get back on your feet to reach for the bandages but a groan coming from behind stops you. You turn around and freeze when Rafe buries his nose into your lower stomach, barely brushing the top of your mound over your pajama shorts. He hisses through his teeth in pain as he pushes your shirt up with his bloodied knuckles.

“Rafe Cameron, what the hell are you-“

“ ‘Smells good as fuck, love you.”

You refuse to admit that you love him too, you can’t give him that. Okay, now shit’s really getting out of hand. He dips his head to get closer to your pussy but the second you see the tip of his tongue touch your shorts, you direct his face back to your stomach. You’ve never gone further than ‘will they-won’t they’ type touches with Rafe, but you just can’t give in no matter how much you lie awake at night thinking about it.

“All this is because of you, you know that? You fucked me up and made pummel the crap outta that guy.” The vibrations his clumsy words send through you gives you a serious case of the shivers, so you distract yourself by running your fingers through his matted hair. Because of course there’s blood on his head too. You’d usually chalk what he’s saying up to drugs and insanity, but with Rafe you just never know.

“What?”

“He said maybe I should lay off you so he could have a piece instead, and I just…. lost it. Why should some chump get a part of what’s all mine?” He says with a startling amount of clarity, voice flat and low.

You don’t designate him with a response, and truth be told he doesn’t want you too. You stretch for what in actuality is a $3 dollar package of hello kitty bandaids and rip the white coverings off a few of them. He makes god awful sounds as you apply them to his mouth, head, and hands. The mess in his hair probably isn't his but your conscience won't let you leave it alone. Something foreign to your head and your heart won’t let you leave him alone.

You decide to put the knife in your back all on your own and look up into his eyes. They’re too half lidded to get a clear reading on them but you’re afraid to rely on the emotions underneath the surface. You used to be scared that he couldn’t feel anything. Now, the idea of Rafe Cameron believing he’s in love is far more terrifying.

He’s a bit ridiculous with My Melody, Kuromi, and Keroppi all over himself, you can’t help the small smile that comes over you. You quickly flatten it before he can get too pleased with himself but the fingers curled against your tummy spasm as they spread out to caress your skin. Rafe has an unreadable look on his face as he smears blood over your womb, but you think if you step away he’ll lunge at you.

“I can help you wash the blood off in the shower.” Saying that is in no way a promise of commitment or change, but it might be the closest you ever get.

You’re used to scraps, scraps are fine.

And well, for much you pride yourself on being perfectly fine being alone, it’s achingly human to crave being loved more than anything else. You wander aimlessly because you won’t go where you’re not wanted, and for the longest you’ve been wanted nowhere. But here you are, obsessed over by someone who everyone wants.

Maybe you’re sick of trying to make all the right decisions if this is where it gets you, cold and alone. Is it so bad to not care anymore? It couldn’t be worse than when your first crush told you he loved you and then had a baby with your bully, you reason. Or when he dated one of your friends and she would “joke” about marrying you when you were alone.

The short trip to the shower is awkwardly silent, you have to lead Rafe and make sure he doesn’t trip. You stare more than any Twilight character as you help each other strip. You try to avoid the bruises on Rafe’s torso, but he chuckles about how “You should see the other guy, kitty.”

So you don’t back away when he slows the trajectory of your calloused hands and drags them up his body. Your nails are bitten unevenly, some leave scratches on his abs and some don’t. It’s exhilarating to see Rafe Caneron’s thread come undone, to watch as he tilts his head back and sighs. You rest your hands on his pecs and kiss the hollow of his throat before you can stop yourself.

You won’t mention the squeak he tries to stifle with the back of his balled up fist.

You step away from him to be vulnerable in return, his satisfaction is much more evident this time around. He rips your camisole in two and unhooks your bra too well, clearly having had practice. He cups your breasts in his hands with tenderness that you’d think is out of character for him. Rafe doesn’t even honk them in the dude bro way that you’d always assumed he would. No, he… massages the flesh in his palms between slow squeezes.

“Don’t see why you’re so insecure about these, I like them just fine.” He huffs, bending down to motorboat you before pulling you in the shower through his grunts of pain and exertion.

You notice that he doesn’t steal a glance at your pussy, almost like he’s scared of seeing it bare and puffy… and wet.

You like to feel like a boiling lobster in the shower, so you turn the dial the same direction as always. You’re worried that Rafe will hate the sting but when the water hits, he moans with an open mouth, eyes shut tight. Before your next breath, you’re pushed against the wall and now the blood’s in your mouth as you're taken into a french kiss right out the gate.

You go with it against your better judgment, until Rafe pulls away to pant against your collarbone. His next kiss is softer, shy like it’s an unknown thing to the two of you. His lips glide and mesh with yours as the water trails down in between your slick bodies. You feel like you’re going to pass out but you couldn’t care less at the moment.

You open your eyes to see the water at the base of the shower run red, and you lose yourself in the swirling motion until the pop of your honey scented shampoo bottle lid snaps you out of it.

“Turn around kitty, ‘said I'd help you scrub down.”

He’d be embarrassed if you said it, but it’s obvious he’s never done this before. He’s like a bull in a china shop gathering you up in a loose bundle and sloppily spreading the soap throughout it. You stay silent, preferring to bask in the absurdity of it all.

Washing Rafe’s hair takes less time, but like he did when you were cleaning him up earlier, he chooses to stare at you the entire time. You scratch his head to really work the shampoo in there and get the dried blood out, he latches onto your wrists and lets his eyes drift shut. He makes it inconvenient to help him when he kisses your jawline, but you allow it.

“Thanks, you’re pretty good with your hands.” Rafe whispers with a wry grin, pecking your mouth and dropping to his knees. Your pomegranate body wash in his uninjured hand. The amount he squirts onto the dollar store loofah on his other hand is a touch too generous.

You have to replace the hello kitty bandaids when the originals fall off after Rafe steps out of the shower minutes later, he insists on it. You make him lean against the bathroom counter and watch as you take a second shower to clean out the cum, he wears a petulant frown the whole time.

You’re bent over that same counter when you’re back in his orbit, teary eyes wide as he fucks your plush thighs.

The rain turns into a thunderstorm outside.

[x0llaz]

The Perfect Pair 𖦹 ⋆° ✮

Sungchan x fem!reader

WC: 7325

enemies to lovers, Sungchan is an asshole in the beginning whoops, stucco au, angst, fluff, conflict resolution, childhood bully Sungchan

Synopsis: Sungchan and YN have hated each other's guts since they were kids. Now, in their final year of high school, things have began to boil over...

ִ ࣪𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ִ ࣪𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ִ ࣪𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑

 It was a sunny day. The sky was clear, the birds were chirping through the wind. It was a perfect day for a perfect recess. YN sat on the ground, playing with a doll by herself while all the other kids played with their friends, taking turns on the swingset, going down the slides. There was a group of boys in her grade, huddled over a bit away, giggling about something. The boys soon pushed someone forward, egging him to do something. 

YN looked up as a boy with dark hair looked down at her, a grin plastered on her face. She would’ve had time to process how cute he was, if he hadn’t reached down and snatched her doll. Immediately she stood up, yelling at him to give it back. He just laughed in her face, avoiding her quick attempts to grab back her toy. 

He danced around her, teasing and taunting until she stepped closer to him and yelled in his face. In response, he pushed her back on the ground, she landed on her butt, with a little hiss from getting scraped. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes as he laughed before walking away, the lunch bell ending before she could yell for a teacher. 

She learned from her friends that his name was Sungchan, and seemed to enjoy picking on girls. They told her stories of his antics, how he got stuck eating with the teacher for a week because he pulled a girl’s hair. All her friends told her he was no good, that he was just a dumb boy. 

The worst part was, she never got her doll back. 

From that day forward, she hated sungchan. She hated his stupid face, and his stupid laugh. She hated his stupid jokes, and the way he’d pick on her. She hated the way he didn’t remember what he did, no matter how silly it was to hold a grudge. 

Yet as they grew up, they walked parallel paths. In later schools of primary school, they were in the same classes, leading into high school they took the same courses, matched in academic skill. When they saw each other in their first shared class, all the way back in third grade, it seemed like sungchan’s goal was to make things difficult for YN. Anything she could do, he could do better. 

And YN made it her goal to prove him wrong. Thus was born, the rivalry. 

Competing for better test scores, racing to have the correct answer, never missing a beat to show off how smart they were. They hardly spoke, unless to argue, and would often just shoot each other dirty looks across the room. 

Sungchan Liked ruffling YN’s feathers, always taking the chance to poke fun at her, call her a nerd, though he did similar things to her. He was the typical bully, YN thought he’d peak in high school for sure. 

To be fair, YN was never very nice to him either. If there was one thing she was good at, it was holding a grudge. Anytime she’d think of any redeeming quality for the boy, she’d always come back to that day in first grade. And with her copious vocabulary, she always knew the right words to hit him with. Though, she didn’t think Sungchan would be able to understand many of them. 

At some point, a classmate asked YN if she had a crush on sungchan, to which she almost threw up at the thought of. “Ew! Anyone but him!”  She explained her hatred for sungchan and his dreamy eyes, but only left the girl unconvinced. 

A boy who would become friends with sungchan asked him the same thing, and he just laughed at the thought. “Why would I have a crush on her, she’s annoying as shit!” He ignored how much he truly liked hearing her pretty voice argue back at him, just seeing her as a stuck up little princess. 

By their junior year, there was something new to campaign for. Something new for them to compete in, to prove how much better they were. Student council. After a year of campaigning, debating and promoting themselves, the results were announced at the Student council meeting. One of them would be The student body president. 

“Choi YN!” her name was called. 

Her eyes lit up, a smile emerging as she went to the podium. Her speech was about what you’d expect from a junior, but She hoped Sungchan would feel like the loser he was. A bit later he approached her, a lazy smirk across his lips as he talked to her.

“Congrats on the win, I'd say you had a good run against me,” He spoke condescendingly, but YN couldn’t help but relish in his defeat. 

“Oh, it wasn’t that difficult,” she smiled, trying to mask the sarcasm in her laugh. 

“You know, you should really fix your attitude if we’re going to be partners,” he pointed out. The smile faded from YN’s face.

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused. 

“Did you forget? I’m your vice president!” he said, faking his own joy.

One of them would be student body president. The runner up would be the Vice.

So much for an easy win. 

“YN, no offense, but this budget sucks,” Sungchan said, looking over her shoulder at the paper on her desk. 

“Thank you for your valued opinion, sungchan, but Mr. Lee said it was the best draft yet, so that’s what we’re sending in,” YN said, trying her best to ignore his figure hovering over her. “You know, maybe you could go do your job instead of trying to do mine,” 

“Just trying to help,” He smiled.

Sungchan always found a problem with YN. Whether it was a policy idea she came up with, or an event she came up with for fundraising, it was never good enough. YN had taken up a habit of ignoring Sungchan, confident her ideas could stand on their own. And fairly certain that Sungchan was stupid. 

But their disagreements were far too severe for two people who were supposed to be partners. Many meetings had turned into the two of them bickering back and forth, where their advisor would need to step in to make them pipe down. It was becoming unproductive for the two of them to work together, fighting more than they were working. 

It didn’t help that YN was beginning to feel the weight of all her courses piling up on her. It was that part of the year where school life balance practically didn’t exist, where most nights were spent doing homework or catching up on work. The stress of being in the top classes, and having to manage multiple jobs for her position was eating her alive. It was only a matter of time before something set her off. 

Sungchan always had exquisite timing. 

“You know, YN, maybe if you weren’t so behind on your assignments, you wouldn’t be so stressed,” Sungchan’s voice mocked her from across her desk. “I don’t think it’s a very good look if our president is always behind on what she needs to do. Stress isn’t good for the job.”

Something inside her snapped. All the anger she struggled to keep at bay was boiling up all over again. 

“Can you just shut the fuck up?” She snapped her head up at him, face turning red. “Like genuinely, let me do what I need to do, and leave me alone!”

“YN!” their advisor shouted from across the room. “That talk isn’t tolerated, apologize!”

“No! He’s done nothing but insult me and my work. Why should I apologize to him?” YN defended herself, Sungchan scoffing. 

“Because you two are a team. You can’t work well together if-”

“I can’t work well if he’s always breathing down my back insulting me!” 

“I was giving you advice, YN, learn the difference,” Sungchan laughed as he spoke, making YN’s anger rise more. 

“I told you to shut up!” YN shouted at him, her anger burning in her throat. 

“No! Both of you, out, now. Come back when you’ve figured out your problems.” Mr. Lee told them. 

YN groaned, stomping out of the room, as sungchan followed behind her lazily. They stood in an empty hallway, sungchan looked around the hall, seeming bored, as YN stared a hole in the ground. Neither one of them wanted to break the silence, neither wanted to acknowledge their part in their stupid rivalry. But YN had one burning question on her mind. 

“Why did you do it?” She asked, her voice quiet, not looking up at him. 

“Do what?” Sungchan scoffed, leaning against the wall. His arms folded across his chest as he looked down at her. 

“First Grade,” She spoke up a little. “It was recess, you stole my doll,” 

“Oh my god,” Sungchan audibly laughed, a wide grin of disbelief across his stupid face. “Is that why you’re such a bitch? You’re mad about a stupid toy?”

“No, I'm mad because you’ve treated me like shit ever since then. And I want to know why. What did I ever do to you to make you hate me? You took my doll, and then you never stopped hating me. You never stopped being a dick.” YN looked up at him finally. She still looked upset, but there was something Sungchan couldn’t decipher in her gaze. He hated it. 

He pushed off the wall, stepping closer towards her, causing her to take a step back. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a bit… insane?” he asked, leaning down to her eye level. “Honestly, has anyone?”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a dickhead? Do you get off on being an asshole, or are you really just that stupid?” YN asked him, trying to fight back. 

“Ever since we were little, you were such a prick. You were such a prissy princess, and you still are now. You know why I don’t like you? Because you think you’re better than everyone, and someone needs to bring you off your high horse,” Sungchan had a condescending grin on his face. 

“No, I don’t,” YN mumbled, stumbling backwards. The words hit her harder than she would’ve expected.

“Bullshit,” Sungchan smiled, cornering her against a locker, his hand resting near her head. “You think you’re so special, that you’re the smartest girl in the world, but you’re not,”

“Sungchan, stop,” Her voice broke, though she tried to keep herself steady, trying to blink back the tears that welled in her eyes.

“Aw, you gonna cry?” He asked. “You know what I think? I think you’re pathetic. I think you’re a pathetic girl who’s never had a reality check. I think you’re pathetic for holding a grudge because I stole your toy. Boo Hoo. Welcome to the real world, there’s more than just your stupid dolls.” 

YN shoved at his chest, trying to push him away from her, but he stood firm. She fought back the tears that threatened to fall. 

“You know, YN, you really never changed,” He laughed. “You’re still the crybaby brat you were back when we were kids. Just a pathetic. useless. crybaby,” 

There was silence between the two of them. The sound that broke it was a painful sounding sob from YN, as she covered her mouth, tears racing down her cheeks as she began gasping for air. Sungchan took a step back as She slid down the locker and to the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs as if she was trying to protect herself. 

Sungchan was in shock. He’d never seen YN in such a position. He’d never seen her beyond the perfect image she always wore. The only time He saw her truly cry was when they were little. But this? Seeing her curled in on herself, sobbing into her legs, it made him rethink his actions. He thought she was immune to his words, that she’d spit something back that was just as mean, but here she was, broken down, sobs escaping her as her breathing picked up quickly. 

He knelt down a bit, feeling remorse build up in his chest, reaching a hand to her shoulder. “YN?” his voice was soft, a drastic shift from his venomous voice. When he touched her, she smacked him away. She smacked his hand away from her shoulder, looking up at him with hatred in her eyes.

“Fuck you!” she yelled at him as she stood up, fleeing before he could process.  

She ran to their homeroom, shoving her things into her bag as she wiped the tears from her eyes. She threw her bag over her shoulders, rushing out of the room as Mr. Lee questioned her. She didn’t respond, just storming away before anything worse could happen. Sungchan was still in the hallway, and when he saw her, he quickly approached, following behind her, calling her name. She heard him, but didn’t listen. 

When she got to the front doors, she saw it was storming outside. She heard as Sungchan called after her, telling her not to walk home, that the rain was too heavy, offering to drive her, but She ignored him. She didn’t care about the Rain, she just wanted to get away from him.

YN was gone for the rest of the week, supposedly having caught the flu. Sunfchan knew better. He knew it was likely because he went too far, that what he said was unforgivable. It made him feel even worse. 

He tried emailing her, texting her for the first time ever just trying to apologize for what he said, but she never responded. He didn’t really expect her to, he knew he was wrong. When he told his friends what happened, they all told him the same thing. 

“Chan, you’re a dick,”

He knew they were right, that he in fact was a dick. 

When she came back the next week, Sungchan made it his mission to talk to her. To get her to talk to him. When he saw her in homeroom, he approached her with a small smile, ready to genuinely apologize for what he said. But when she ignored him, looking up only to roll her eyes, he frowned. 

He assumed she was just playing hard-ball. That she’d eventually talk if he tried hard enough. 

In all their meetings, he’d try to be extra nice, complimenting her or bringing her coffee, but she always ignored him, a straight face plastered onto her like a mask. After a week of trying with no results, sungchan wanted to punch a wall. 

“I give up,” He said to his friends at lunch. “What can I do if she doesn’t even listen to me? She won’t even hear me out! What am I supposed to do to fix it if she won’t let me!”

“You’re really dumb, you know,” Shotaro laughed at the younger boy. 

“What?” sungchan furrowed his brows. 

“You think that she owes you forgiveness after what you did?” He asks. 

“No, but-”

“Then stop expecting it. Honestly, I don't blame her for ignoring you. You’ve been a bitch to her since you were in elementary school,” Shotaro sighed. “You’re not going to get anywhere like this. If you want things to be better, then you gotta stop being a dick. You can’t apologize and then go back to chastising her for stupid shit.”

Sungchan looked down. “I know,”

“Then stop being a dick!” eunseok said from across the table. 

“Well she’s just a bitch!” Sungchan tried to shift the blame. 

“No, she’s really not. She’s a bitch to you because you’ve never been nice to her. She’s actually a really sweet girl,” Eunseok defended her. 

“How would you know?”

“She’s in my math class. She helps me with like… everything,” Eunseok shrugged. 

“Why is this the first I'm hearing of that?” sungchan asked. 

“Because you’d make such a fuss about how bitchy she was and how much you hated her.” the older boy shrugged. “And if you took a moment to stop being such an asshole, you’d see she was way nicer than you thought. And you’d also find out there was more to her than just being a spoiled nerd, or whatever you call her,” 

When he went to the library that day, he heard something. While he was reading his assigned reading book, he heard a soft, muffled sound. He heard someone gasping a bit, little sniffles. He realized he heard someone crying. 

As he walked slowly toward the sound, he stepped on a creaky part of the floor, and suddenly the sound stopped. He approached the book shelf, trying to see who was on the other side, when he was met with a pair of eyes doing the same, now eye to eye with the other person. He quickly realized it was YN, and a moment later she was running out with her books in her arms. 

Another week went by, YN ignored and avoided sungchan like the plague. Sungchan felt hopeless in his attempts to talk to her. He missed when she’d bicker with him, even when she’d insult him or scold him. He wanted anything but silence. 

When he went to the library that Thursday, it was a little late. He had finished up his duties, and looked around for YN to try and talk again, but couldn’t find her. As he looked for a spot in the library, his music playing in his ears a little too loudly, he soon realized why he couldn’t find her. Because there she was, cheek resting against an open book, papers spread out on her table, hair sprawled across her forehead, sleeping peacefully in the quiet of the library. 

Sungchan couldn’t help but smile, looking at her so peacefully sleeping. He checked the time, and figured she would probably need to leave soon. He picked up her papers and slid them into her folder, and picked up the piles of books she stacked around her, and gently took the last one out from under her. He was lucky she was a heavy sleeper, or he’d probably get slapped. When everything was put away neatly, he turned back to her. 

He crouched down, looking at her sleep peacefully. He brushed some hair away from her forehead, smiling to himself at how cute she looked. 

How what she looked?

He shook himself out of his thoughts, and brought his hand to her shoulder, shaking her lightly. She didn;t budge, turning to rest her forehead on her arms, and he shook her again. And then again. When she woke up she sat up quickly, not processing her surroundings, or that sungchan was right next to her. 

When she looked at him, her eyes widened, looking around at the now clean table. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck!” She whispered to herself as Tears welled in her eyes, bringing her hands to her eyes. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sungchan whispered, his hand resting on her shoulder as she cried. “You’re okay, just breathe,” he told her and she shoved his hand away. Deserved. “What’s wrong?”

YN looked at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “The fuck do you mean what’s wrong? I fell asleep and lost most of my work time, and now you’re here to rub it in!” 

“No, i’m not,” sungchan shook his head. “I’m just here to wake you up,” he shrugged. 

YN rolled her eyes and rested her forehead in her arms, facing down at the table. How could she have been so stupid? Letting herself fall asleep? And now Sungchan was here, the library, the place she went to avoid him. She sighed deeply, sniffling a bit, embarrassed by her tears, when she heard sungchan speak. 

“I’ll drive you home,” He told her quietly. 

“What?” 

“It’s late, soon it’ll be dark, and you have a lot to carry. So i can give you a ride,” he shrugged, hoping she wouldn’t reject the offer. 

“Why would I want a ride home from you?” she asked, looking up from the table, a frown etched onto her face. 

“Just an offer,” Sungchan sighed, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Take it or leave it,” 

YN had a choice. She could make a statement, stand up for herself and not give into sungchan’s offer. It’s what she should do. She didn’t want to spend anymore time with him after what he said to her. 

But YN was tired. And her bag was heavy. And she heard sungchan drove a pretty nice car. Maybe she could tell him off while they were in there. She knew he would be too guilty to defend himself. 

“Fine,” she said begrudgingly. 

“Good,” he smiled lightly, bending down and picking up her bag, carrying it like it was nothing. 

“What are you doing?” YN asked, trying to snatch her bag back. 

“Carrying your bag, let’s go,” he started walking away before she could protest. She ended up trailing behind him with a frown, arms folded across her chest. 

When they got tp his car, sungchan put her bag in the backseat while she got in the front. He got in after her and started the car without a word. He handed her his phone so she could type in her address, and pick the music. They got on the road, neither of them wanting to talk. 

He glanced at her from time to time. She rested her head against the window, watching the road pass by as the day faded into night. He noticed the tired look in her eyes that he realized had been there for a few weeks now, but never had stood out to him. He noticed how her lips stayed in a little pout, wondering what was going through her mind as she looked out into the darkening road. 

And then he spoke. 

“I’m really sorry,” She turned at the words. “For everything,” She didn’t speak. “You didn’t deserve how I treated you, ever. I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I’m so sorry.” Sungchan let out a sigh. “It’s been eating me up, i needed to say it to your face,” 

She looked down at her lap, picking at the skin on her fingers. “So why’d you do it?” 

“What part?” sungchan asked, a bit of humor in his voice. 

“All of it,” no humor in hers. Not the time for lightheartedness.

“I wish I knew, I was just acting on my impulse. WHen you asked me about why I did what I did in first grade, I didn’t know what to say, I just got angry. I didn’t think about all the times I was the one to start things with you, or pick on you, I only thought about that one thing. I just got mad, even though I didn’t have the right to be mad. You had all the right to ask, I reacted badly.” he tried piecing together his thoughts. “And I didn’t realize how badly, what I did, hurt you,” 

“You didn’t realize? Sungchan you made me miserable,” YN scoffed. 

“I know that now, and I’m sorry. I never knew how to fix things with you, I never was able to swallow my pride and admit I was wrong for how I treated you.” he apologized once more, knowing he could never undo all the hurt he had done to her. 

“Are you forgetting everything you said to me? You can’t just unsay all that to me. You can’t say you regret it so much and expect to move on,” 

“I know,” Sungchan nodded. “What I will say is that I never should have said those things to you. No matter how angry I was, you didn’t deserve that. I was disrespectful, and I crossed a line by saying that to you. And I don’t expect you to just move on, I don’t deserve that at all,” his voice felt genuine. 

“Then why are you driving me home right now?” she asked, still frowning. 

“Because I want you to get home safe, and I want to be better. I don’t want you to hate me, but I know that’s your own choice. I just want you to know that I’ll try,” Sungchan pulled up to her house, parking on the street. 

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes as she opened the car door. Sungchan got out to grab her bag from the backseat, crossing around the car. 

“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry,” he handed her the bag. 

“Let’s talk next week,” she mumbled. 

“What?” Sungchan furrowed his brow. 

“When I'm not so sleep deprived, when I have time to process, let’s talk about us going forward. Don’t bother me until then,” she told him before walking up to her house, not giving him time to respond. 

“Yes ma’am,” Sungchan muttered to himself, watching her get inside before he drove himself home.

Sungchan was nervous. He sat in the agreed upon cafe, waiting for YN to get there like he was waiting on a date. But he was never nervous for dates, Usually because dates actually liked him. But YN didn’t like him, and this certainly wasn’t a date. 

Thankfully, YN had seemed to be doing better that week. When she walked through the doors to the cafe, sungchan couldn’t help but think about how pretty she was, though at the moment he should be more concerned with whether or not she was going to murder him. She sat down in front of him, he had already ordered her drink. He was about to greet her when she spoke. 

“Against my better judgment, i’ve decided to forgive you,” YN told him. 

“Really?” that was not the statement he expected. “So, you’re not going to kill me?”

“I have some measures,” sungchan straightened up, ready to listen. “Going forward, we aren’t going to hate each others guts. Let’s just move on, no more childish insults, no more fights over nothing. From now on, we get along.”

“Alright,” sungchan nods. 

“And you have to actually tell me why you took my doll, why you did any of it,” YN adds. “I need closure,” 

Sungchan nodded. “I had some really bad friends, which sounds kind of stupid, but they kept telling me that if I did what they did, I would be cool. They were older than me, so I thought they were right. So I spent my first grade year picking on kids like a loser, trying to be cool. They told me to go take your doll, so I did. I thought I’d be the coolest boy in the first grade, but I just felt bad. They told me to keep picking on you and I did, i made the decision to keep going, to keep being a little shit until I realized there was more to life than picking on girls. By the time I realized it, it was too late.” he told her. “And i’m not trying to say I was blameless, I still continued longer than I should have, i’m just trying to give you an explanation,” 

“So you’ve always been kinda dumb?” She asked. 

“Basically,” sungchan laughed a little, and saw her smile a little bit. “We should study together,” 

“Why?” She asked, skeptical of his suggestion. 

“Well, we’re supposed to be partners. So we should start learning to work together,” he shrugged, a little less confident than when he initially asked. “Just an idea, you don’t have to agree,”

“Are you good at Calc?” YN asked. 

“Uh, yeah, i’m good at it,” Sungchan looked a little confused. 

“Well, i’m good at History,” she told him. “So we can help each other out,” 

Sungchan smiled. “Cool,” he nodded a little. “I can give you rides, if you need them,”

“Okay,” YN agreed. “Oh and you have to get me coffees before our meetings,” 

“Deal,” sungchan smiled. “So, you really don’t hate me?”

“I’m in the process of not hating you,” YN corrected him. “We have a little ways to go,” 

Surprisingly, it was easy to not hate sungchan. It seemed like he was making an effort to be a nice person, which YN appreciated. He always showed up to their student council meetings five minutes early with her coffee in hand. He stopped chastising her for her work, and she stopped calling him an idiot. Mr. Lee was surprised, but pleased to see the progress the two had made. 

Their study time was productive, spending time going through each subject with one another to make sure they both had a good idea of what they were learning. It was a lot more helpful than she expected. 

While the car rides were mostly quiet for a week or two, with only a little small talk filling the air, the two of them began talking to one another more. They’d rant about teachers, or classmates who got on their nerves, or talk about the show that they coincidentally both liked. Who would have thought that the two people who were already somewhat similar would have so much in common between each other. 

YN found herself enjoying her time with Sungchan. If you had told her that a month ago, she would’ve called you stupid. 

And Sungchan couldn’t deny that he thought YN was great. He struggled to hide his smile when he was around her. He couldn’t contain his thoughts of how cute she was, or how much he liked her laugh. 

When he asked her to hang out, outside of stucco meetings, or study sessions, or their drives back to YN’s house, it seemed normal, that this was a progression of their friendship. When she accepted, Sungchan felt his stomach churn with excitement, joy that he could spend more time with her. 

The first time, they just went to Sungchan’s house and watched a show on his couch, sharing a bag of popcorn and a bag of candy that was too big for one person. They spent most of the time talking, half of their attention on the show, half of it on each other. By midnight, they had ordered takeout and shared their food, switched spots on the couch, and YN accidentally kicked Sungchan in the jaw.

When people Noticed how much Sungchan and YN started hanging out, they thought it was some sort of joke. Almost everyone knew they hated each others guts, and now, here they were, walking down the halls together? And sungchan was carrying her backpack???? The hell happened?

When she walked through the halls, Sungchan was right behind her. There were times his arm would be slung around her shoulder, or she’d punch him in the arm. He’d ruffle her hair, she’d shove him lightly. Either this was a new form of torturing each other, or they actually got along. 

Their partnership as student leaders was strengthened by their newfound closeness, and through their growth they never lost the bickering. But instead of insulting each other’s character, they now just poked fun, made light hearted jokes. And they always seemed to enjoy it. 

It was weird. 

It was also obvious that Sungchan had a crush.

All his friends could tell by the way he brought her up so much. When she’d approach them, Sungchan’s demeanor would change, a big smile on his face that would linger as she walked away. He wasn’t very slick. Comments that flew over YN’s head that were too flirty for someone you just had platonic feelings for, lingering gazes on her, compliments galore, it was a miracle YN didn’t figure it out. 

He remembered what made her laugh, so he’d try to come up with jokes that she’d like because he loved hearing her laugh, watching her cover her grin and try to compose herself. He took note of her favorite snacks, and her usual coffee orders, not needing to ask after getting them for her so many times. He memorized the details of her face, the way her eyes sparkled when she wore certain makeup, how the apples of her cheeks got so big when she smiled, the way her lashed fanned over her cheeks, how she’d scrunch her nose a bit when she was thinking. He knew it all. He liked it all. 

He liked her. 

And damn, did he know it. He thought about her a lot, trying to come up with what would be their “perfect date”. He tried being obvious, but it was very difficult because somehow, this prodigy couldn’t tell when he was flirting with her. He texted her all the time, staying up late to have stupid conversations with her, wishing she was right there next to him and he could scoop her into his arms and talk to her in person. 

Now they sat in sungchan room, laying on his bed watching TikToks and eating ramen. Very romantic. YN sat up on the bed, stretching her back a little as sungchan just watched her. He looked up at her like she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. 

“Is this weird?” She asked. 

“Is what weird?” Sungchan sat up. 

“Us, hanging out, being normal and not hating each others guts?” She smiled, looking over at him as he smiled back at her. 

“Nah, I think it’s pretty cool,” he tells her. She didn’t notice the way his eyes trailed along her body before landing back on her lips.

“Okay, ‘cause sometimes I just randomly get the feeling that this is like… too out of character for us and we just-“

He pressed his lips against hers. 

She froze for a moment before sighing a bit and leaning in, feeling his hand rest on her waist, his other coming up to brush back her hair. Her hand pressed against his chest, grabbing at his shirt as she shifted slightly towards him. 

She was kissing him. 

He kissed her. 

Hello?

She pulled away with a gasp, eyes wide at what just happened. Sungchan looked apologetic, pushing his hair back. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ he started, catching his breath. 

“No, no, it's… it’s okay, don't worry,” she told him, but was standing up from where she sat on his bed. “I uh, I need to go home,”

Sungchan didn’t say anything to her as she walked out. 

Sungchan kissed her. How many other girls had he kissed? What did that kiss mean? Why did he kiss her? Why was he such a good kisser? Why did she enjoy kissing him so much? Did she like sungchan? Did-

Channie: hey I wanna say I’m sorry again

Channie: I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable

YN: it’s ok dw

YN: I just need to think

And think she did. She barely got a wink of sleep that night, all that was in her mind was a replay of their kiss. Thinking about kissing him made her think more. She thought about if she liked him, or if she was just flustered. And then she thought about him, how close the two of them had gotten over the past weeks. She realized she noticed things about sungchan that she would’ve scoffed at before.

The next day at school was awkward, neither wanting to bring up the night before. They attended their classes like normal, but the chatter and playfulness between them was gone, both too scared to initiate anything. The student council meeting after was awkward, everyone in the room could tell, but they remained quiet. Sungchan still drove her home, what kind of guy would he be to let her go alone? But their drive was almost silent, the music only made the air more tense, as if they were both trying to drown out their own thoughts. 

It remained like that for a week. 

YN would sometimes catch sungchan staring over at her like he wanted to talk. When she’d lock eyes with him, he’d sit up taller and then turn his attention away from her. 

At night, the two wouldn’t text as much, sungchan’s goodnight texts stopped as YN had stopped responding to a lot of his texts. How was she supposed to continue as normal? How was she supposed to pretend that everything was the same? How was she supposed to pretend she didn’t like him?

Through their weeks together, YN always felt a little something in her chest. She thought it was just joy that finally the two could put the past behind them. But in her week (that now bled into the second week) of rethinking their last close interaction, she realized that it was a little more than just joy. She realized how much she liked being around sungchan, how she liked when his arm was wrapped around her, and she liked staying up late at night just to talk to him more. 

She especially liked kissing him.

Oh she was so screwed. 

The next student council meeting was about two weeks from when he kissed her. So two weeks of being extremely awkward around each other. By now, the tension was palpable, and Mr. Lee was getting nervous. 

“Are you two fighting again?” he asked as YN and sungchan sat an awkward distance apart, still next to each other. They both looked up, looked at each other and shook their heads. 

“No,” they both said at the same time. 

“Well you two aren’t as chatty as you were before. Don’t get me wrong, i like the quiet, but i’d prefer if you wouldn’t go back to trying to kill each other,” he told them. 

“Don’t worry, mr. lee, we’re just hard at work,” Sungchan told him with a reassuring smile. “Nothing’s wrong,” Lie. 

When mr. Lee walked away, he looked at YN. 

“We should probably talk,” He told her with an awkward smile. “You know,” 

YN sighed. “Not right now, okay,” 

“Okay… when?” he asked, wanting the tension gone from their relationship. 

“I don’t know, right now just isn’t the time to talk,” She told him, the cold tone Sungchan knew so well creeping back into her voice. 

“YN, it’s been two weeks, we have to talk about it if-”

“Sungchan, drop it!” she dropped her pencil, looking over at him with a look he knew all too well. Sungchan didn’t say anything before getting up, telling Mr. Lee he was going to the restroom. 

YN sighed, regretting snapping at Sungchan. The thought of talking about what happened scared her, she was afraid they wouldn’t be the same if they acknowledged the elephant in the room. But she knew she had to talk about it. She knew Sungchan deserved to have a talk about what happened. 

When he came back, YN looked up at him hopefully, hoping he’d take his seat next to her and they could resume, but he picked up his things and moved to his desk. YN frowned, going back to doing her work, looking up occasionally to watch what he was doing.

She got up from her spot and walked over to his desk to apologize. She leaned against the table and tapped his shoulder, giving him an apologetic smile. Sungchan didn’t return it, YN couldn’t read what he was thinking.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you-” she started but got cut off. 

“Let’s talk later,” he told her, his voice even as he spoke. 

YN frowned, but nodded as she turned away. It was what she deserved, she was the one to shut him out first, she shouldn’t be surprised he did the same. But it still hurt. She realized how Sungchan must have felt when she shut him down. 

The rest of the meeting passed with awkward silences and reminders of important dates that were coming up. YN could barely focus, but Sungchan seemed to be doing just fine. He seemed to work harder when he was a little frustrated. But at the end of their session he lingered behind, waiting for her to pack up. 

She approached him with a little smile, which he reciprocated before looking to the ground, and starting to walk towards the door. Once in the hallway, YN decided to speak. 

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she said, looking up at him. She watched as he turned to look at her, his face softening to a soft smile.  

“It’s okay,” he assured, looking down at her. 

The awkward silence turned comfortable, and the distance between the two seemed smaller. The elephant in the room was very much present, but at least they weren’t upset with each other. They walked to Sungchan’s car quietly, the drive to YN’s house was nearly silent if not for the occasional small talk sungchan would interject, trying to ease the tension. 

He pulled up to her driveway, looking over at her with a small smile. “Have a good night, YN,” he told her. 

YN smiled, pulling her bag into her lap, about to open the door when she hesitated. Something rushed her system, and she asked, “do you want to come inside for a bit?” 

Sungchan paused for a moment, considering her offer before nodding stiffly. He parked his car and got out, leaving his bags in his car. YN smiled and got out, waiting for him to cross around before leading him inside. “My parents are out of town for a couple nights, so we should be fine,” She didn’t want her parents there to question her motives for bringing a boy into the house. 

Sungchan nodded, and she opened the door for him. Her house was neat, everything in place, nice and neat. He looked around and saw all the achievements of the household, her father was a successful lawyer, and her mother a proud business woman. In the shadow, YN was their perfect little student. Sungchan began to understand why she was so serious about their rivalry. 

He absentmindedly followed her to her room, looking around the house like it was a museum. He’d never seen a cleaner house, even with his neat-freak mother. 

“We should talk,” YN’s voice broke him from his daze. She motioned her arms for sungchan to make himself comfortable. He took a spot on the foot of her bed, glancing around a bit before landing his eyes on her. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, feeling his nerves build up. 

Was she going to reject him? Tell him he misread their relationship? Call him ugly? No one could ever call him ugly… right?

“I’ve been thinking a lot about… a few weeks ago, when we-” she made random gestures that in no way implied kissing. 

“Kissed?”

“Yeah, that,” she sighed, an awkward laugh following. “Listen, I don't know what it meant to you, but I'm gonna be honest… I really liked it, and I really like you, and i don’t know how you feel, so if we’re not on the same page-”

Sungchan got to his feet the moment she said she liked him, and cut her off by kissing her once more, relief flooding his system, smiling when he felt her wrap her arm around his neck. His hand held her cheek lightly as they kissed, breaking away, smiling brightly. 

“So you-” YN started, gasping lightly, trying to catch her breath. 

“Yes, you idiot,” Sungchan grinned, brushing his thumb against her cheek. “And you call me dumb, i’ve been flirting with you for weeks!”

YN just smiled, bringing him back in for another kiss. 

Around school, most people had heard about YN and sungchan, most were in disbelief, some could see it coming from a mile away. Mr. Lee grew annoyed with their newfound affection, because now instead of constant bickering, he had to listen to sungchan constantly calling YN pretty, or flirting with her. 

But the bickering never stopped. If there was anything about them, they always found something to argue about. The two of them always had something to fight over, always in a friendly competition. 

This time, they just didn’t hate each other. 

taglist: @oftenjisung , @vhuteryh , @skzhoe4life , @cheederzchez

[ts19009]

Seventeen Fic Rec's

(CONTAINS SMUT AND MATURE SUBJECT MATTER)

(Bold title means favorite)

(UPDATED: December 4th, 2023)

OT13

In Pursuit of Wedded Bliss (Updated Masterlist) (A Seventeen Regency!AU Series) @fantasyescapes17

seventeen fic recommendations

Kim Mingyu

In Soft Hands | Part 2 (Mingyu) @beahae (SingleDad!Mingyu x DaycareTeacher!Reader(f))

what’s your number?; kmg @nevernonline (synposis: after finding an online article about the number of sexual partners a woman should have, your day with your neighbor turns into him being lucky number eighteen. paring/s: model! mingyu x afab! reader, ft. little brother! chan.)

again and again ⟢(exes, fake dating, mutual pining, idol!gyu, vet!reader, mild angst, fluff, smut) @lovelyhan

creep (Halloween, ghost!mingyu, serial killer!mingyu, etc…) @smileysuh

Aphrodite (smut, friends to lovers, established relationship, fluff at the beginning) @highvern

Covert Desires (spy!mingyu x assasin!reader (fem!reader themes: spy au, mafia, enemies to lovers, fake marriage, mutual pining, spies, angst, fluff, killing) @etherealyoungk

Slowly; All At Once (fluff, best friends to lovers with Mingyu, boyfriend material!Mingyu, slight angst.) @gyuwoncheol

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (1) (brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut) @gyuswhore

His Smile(smut, fluff, slowburn, fake dating!au) @angelwonie

Parties, Yachts and Wishful Thinking (enemies to lovers, reader and Mingyu are rich, Mingyu is kind of an asshole but so is reader, parties, mentions of reader crushing on Wonwoo, drinking, cursing, tennis, yachts and pure filth) @ithinkilikeit-reactions

Other Mingyu recs @novalpha

we don’t usually hold hands (m) || kmg & reader (angst, fluff, smut, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, sort-of-mean!oc, nice guy!mingyu, emotionally constipated!oc honestly) @gyukult

kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity (smut, fluff, humor, college au, best friends to lovers au, friends with benefits au) @shuaflix

the very first night. (exes to lovers, roommates!au | romance, angst, smut) Link works on pc and through my reblog i think

OVER MY HEAD (brother'sbestfriend!mingyu, fratboy!mingyu, pining, friends to lovers, angst (only a little), reader's a chronic overthinker, slow burn, smut, f reader, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, wonwoo's kinda absent </3, crying (blame mingyu), etc.) @hannieehaee

it’s all fun and games (mingyu x female reader ) @dontflailmenow

Hong Joshua (Jisoo)

Loverboy (regency era romance, historical, drama, slow burn, angst.) @starlightxsvt

cranberry concoctions (bartender!joshua x f!reader) @onlyhuis

Mr (not) so perfectly fine (Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, not super relevant to the plot but, this is a Non-Idol AU, exes to exes with benefits, elements of angst) @hwanghyunjinenthusiast

the devil wears baby blue (mut (minors PLS dni!), strangers to fucking lol) @onlyseokmins

Virgin Killer (cheerleader!reader, nerd!shua, virgin!shua, he’s kinda cold in this but is lowkey still a soft boi, drinking, teasing, jealousy, reader has a little bit of a corruption kink, loss of virginity, oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation) @wonusite

isohel (all time joshua fav) (slowburn, modern royalty au, angst, fluff) @toruro

mr. nice guy (, neighbor!joshua, joshua's muscles deserve their own tag tbh, oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption (NOT drunk sex), petnames (sweetheart mostly :pp), biting, spit kink, unedited as alway) @toruro

eyes meeting, hearts apart ⟢ (; bartender!reader, requited unrequited love, immense pining, angst, flowers, slow burn, smut (MINORS DNI)) @lovelyhan

Jeon Wonwoo

Jeon’s Anatomy - Cast (surgeon au) @hansols-yoda-boxers

Blown up love (gaming is all fun and... well, games, until you start crushing on the only person that takes pity on you and saves you from mobs.) @starsstuddedsky

I found love in your smile (doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc) @wonlouvre

wonwoo reading list / fic recs part 3 ! @jeonride

meet cute of the century (meet cute, strangers to lovers, pining, discourse abt being an idol as a career, mild angst, smut) @lovelyhan

Licentious (babysitter au, cheating au, smut) @wonusite

to build a home (idol!husband! jeon wonwoo x actress!afab!reader) @tomodachiii

X + Y = YOU AND I ||( jeon wonwoo academic rival!wonwoo x fem!reader) @angelwonie

yoon jeonghan

just one day (fluff // angst // nonidol!au // brother's best friend // fake dating!au // they're idiots lmao // not edited nor proofread so pls bear w me lol // cursing and. two? kissing scenes.) @wonwoonlightligh

to live again (ime travel!au, childhood friends to lovers!au, slow burn, angst, some fluff, some humor) @viastro I WAS CRYING PLS READ

Pathetic Series @leejihoonownsmyhearthoonownsmyheart

Jeonghan’s Guide to Insurance Fraud (And Falling in Love) (fluff, angst, non-idol au, elementary school teacher!jeonghan, f2L, fake relationship) @starsstuddedsky

xu minghao

✧ the letter (slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l) @toruro

✧ flight of the stars (mut (18+ / mdni), f1 au, brief high school au, angst, fluff) @toruro

✧ oh my! @toruro

fixer upper (s2f2l. “beg” minghao. LOTS OF PLOT with eventual smut. slow and i mean SLOW burn. some member slander(affectionate),) @seungkwansphd

Glacial Pace (fake dating au, friends to lovers, fluff, smut) @wonusite

To Keep You Warm @idyllic-ghost

Kwon Soon-young

My Best Friend's Mother (is the One For Me) — ksy (milf chaser!soonyoung, milf!reader) @rubyreduji

driving lessons for dummies (fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au) @shuaflix FAV ATM XD

be sweet (prince!hoshi x princess!reader) @heartkyeom

charity f*ck (virgin guy who lives with his parents!soonyoung, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that format for a lil bit (THIS IS NOT A SOCIAL MEDIA AU), facetime-sex, real life sex) @ncteez

[wholoveseggs]

hey girl! i was wondering if you could write some angst - maybe like an unrequited love? like the reader is in love with Elijah but is too shy to tell him, and he doesn’t know about her feelings towards him because he’s too focused on Hayley? pretty please 🫶🏻

Crush

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You have quite the crush on Rebekah's big brother, and you find yourself lost in the tangled web of unreciprocated feelings, yearning for a love that may never be yours.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag, I may have gone a little off topic with this one ♡♡

6.7k words - Warnings: angst, masturbation, smut, corsets, Elijah being a history nerd and using it to flirt, Rebekah being the best (as always)

{Moodboard->}

You were excited to meet Rebekah’s infamous family. You thought Klaus, as notorious as he was, would intrigue you the most. However, the moment you laid eyes on him you knew you were doomed. Elijah. His charming smile, his piercing dark eyes and his strong hands. It took all your self-control not to blush and look away like some schoolgirl.

He was the first person who greeted you, his hand lingered in yours a moment longer than what could be considered polite and it sent butterflies straight into your stomach.

You were so gone, it was almost embarrassing. You couldn't help it, you were sure that anyone else would fall head over heels for him too.

But there was only one small problem: Elijah had eyes for another, Hayley Marshall. You tried not to be bitter, after all, they were just friends. However, you couldn't help but notice the way he looked at her, or the way she leaned into his touch. They way they would sometimes have entire conversations with their eyes. You couldn't stand it.

You had been so sure you had a chance. He had been flirting with you, right? But then you noticed that he was that way will everyone. He would flirt and smile, then gaze at you in a way that just oozed sex appeal.

You were staying in the compound with Rebekah and going to school full time. You enjoyed spending your free time reading, the Mikaelsons had an incredible collection of books and you had read a lot of them.

You were sitting at the table, a large book on medieval history in front of you. You were working on a research paper on romanticism in the middle ages. It was difficult, especially because there wasn't much written about that subject from this time period.

You considered asking Rebekah about it, but you knew it was a sore subject for her, so you decided against it.

You were getting ready to give up and start a new project when Elijah entered the room. You blushed at the sight of him, he was wearing a black T-shirt, and jeans. Looking the most casual you had ever seen him.

He gave you a friendly nod and headed to the bookshelf. He looked through the books for a moment, before taking one from the shelf. He placed it on the table before sitting across from you and beginning to read.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, both of you reading and not making a sound. You were surprised that you weren't more uncomfortable. The only sounds were the occasional page turn and the occasional noise from the city outside.

You got lost in your work again and came across an interesting paragraph about how poetry was used often to court potential partners. You wondered if Elijah had done that back then. He seemed like the kind of guy who would have.

The thought of Elijah reading you poetry made your heart skip a beat. You imagined him leaning in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered words of affection and lust.

Your eyes glanced up, and your breath hitched when you realized he was staring at you. You flushed, quickly looking back at your work.

He chuckled softly and reached out, tapping the top of your textbook.

"Interesting choice of reading material." He said.

You gave him a small smile, "I'm trying to write a research paper on the Middle Ages." You replied. "About romance and poetry."

"Ah, yes." He said with a smirk, "I remember that time period fondly."

You giggled, "Of course you do. You were probably the biggest player around."

He gave you an odd look, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. His eyes looked you up and down, and you could see a flash of something indecipherable cross them. You were surprised by how intense his gaze was, and felt your cheeks growing hot, regretting opening your mouth.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked, his tone teasing.

"I... uh..." You stammered, not sure how to respond. "You just seem like the type who'd have his pick of women."

Elijah smirked, his dark eyes meeting yours. "And why would you think that?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous.

You swallowed nervously, and his eyes narrowed slightly. You realized he was toying with you, and that he could hear your heartbeat quickening. You weren't going to let him win.

"I think you know why." You said, your voice surprisingly steady.

Elijah chuckled, his eyes roaming over your body once again. He put his hand on this chin and looked at you thoughtfully. "In the middle ages I was actually quite solitary." He said, a smirk still playing on his lips.

"What was it like back then?" You asked, trying to steer the conversation away from your previous comment.

Elijah's expression softened slightly, and his gaze seemed far away. "It was a different time." He said wistfully.

You couldn't help but stare at him. His eyes were filled with such pain and sadness. You knew he'd experienced terrible things, and that it must've been difficult for him. But somehow he'd managed to survive and maintain his humanity, something that very few vampires could say.

"What was it like to date -sorry- court someone back then? You asked, hoping to get a better understanding of him.

"Women were often married off when they were very young." Elijah said, a grim expression on his face. "They had no say in the matter. But there were ways around it."

He paused, his eyes meeting yours, and a slow smile spread across his lips. "It wasn't easy to be alone with a woman, not even for a moment. If you wanted to seduce her, you had to be creative."

Your face turned a deep shade of crimson, and you were suddenly thankful for the dim lighting. You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, and he chuckled softly, clearly amused by your discomfort.

"What we are doing right now, alone in this room," he said, his voice low and seductive, "it wouldn't be allowed. Not without a chaperone. And if we were discovered, the consequences would be severe."

His eyes flashed with desire, and you found yourself unable to look away.

"What would they do?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"Well," he said, his tone mischievous, "you'd have to marry me, of course."

Your eyes widened in shock, and he laughed loudly, enjoying the reaction he'd gotten from you.

You felt flustered and embarrassed, but also oddly flattered. You couldn't believe he'd actually suggested that, and the thought of it made your heart race.

You wondered if he was joking, but you didn't dare ask. You weren't sure you could handle the answer.

The two of you sat quietly for a moment, before Hayley walked in holding Hope. She gave Elijah a questioning look and he stood, walking over to her. You watched as he placed a gentle kiss on the baby's forehead.

"Can you watch her for a few hours? They need me in the bayou," she asked him, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Of course." He replied, giving her a small smile.

She smiled gratefully, placing a hand on his cheek. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft and affectionate.

Elijah took Hope from Hayley's arms and cradled her gently. Giving her a wide smile and making funny faces, causing her to giggle. You couldn't help but smile. He was so sweet with her.

Hayley looked from you to Elijah, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "See you later." She said, before walking away.

Elijah nodded, his gaze lingering on her a moment before turning back to you. You looked down at your textbook, feeling guilty and jealous all at once.

He walked over to the couch and sat down, Hope still in his arms. You couldn't help but stare at the two of them. Elijah held his niece with such tenderness, and Hope seemed completely content in his arms. He was rocking her back and forth, humming a soft tune under his breath.

You'd never seen anything more beautiful.

Hope's eyes slowly started to droop, and Elijah smiled down at her. He continued to hum and rock her until her eyes finally closed, and she was asleep.

"You are so good with her." You said, unable to hold back the compliment.

He smiled, and his eyes met yours. You felt your heart skip a beat, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed.

You were sure he could hear it.

"Thank you," he said, not taking his eyes off Hope.

You tried to focus on your work, but it was difficult. Your mind kept wandering, and you found yourself glancing over at him more and more.

"I better go put her down, have a nice night." He said, standing up with Hope in his arms and heading towards the nursery.

"You too," you replied, smiling up at him.

Once he was gone, you let out a sigh and sank back into the couch. Your heart was still racing, and you were sure your face was still bright red.

It was the first time the two of you had been alone together. The first time you'd gotten a glimpse of his softer side.

And it made you want him even more.

Over the next few weeks you kept finding yourself alone with him. In the kitchen, in the library, on the balcony. It was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings, and you weren't sure how much longer you could keep it up.

He would ask you questions about your paper, and the two of you would talk for hours. He would listen to your ideas and tell you of his own experiences in the Middle Ages.

You loved how passionate he was about everything. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he enjoyed.

You wondered if he could see how you were falling for him, if he noticed how you blushed whenever he touched you. You were sure he did.

You knew it was foolish, but you couldn't help it. Every time you were around him, you couldn't stop yourself from imagining what it would be like to kiss him, to touch him. To be with him.

But he didn't seem interested, he didn't look at you the way he looked at Hayley.

One night, the two of you were sitting on the balcony, watching the stars. He was telling you a story of how he courted a woman who was to be wed to another, he would compel her betrothed to forget that he was around her.

"I don't miss much about those times, everything smelled terrible and fanaticism ran rampant, but there was something about the secrecy and the scandal that made it all..." He paused, looking for the right word, "exciting."

You chuckled, "I'm sure. But the fact that a lady could be forced to marry a man she didn't want... that sounds horrible."

"It was," Elijah agreed, "but not everyone was unhappy. Some women preferred it."

"Why?" You asked, your brows furrowing.

"Some liked the idea of being taken care of, of not having to make decisions or choices." He shrugged. "Others simply liked the security."

"What do you think?" You asked.

He turned to look at you, his eyes studying your face intently. "I think it was wrong. No woman should be forced into a marriage she doesn't want. No one should have that much power over another person."

You smiled, glad that he held similar opinions to your own. 

"But I do miss the corsets, the anticipation when taking one off, pulling the ribbons and slowly revealing the soft, delicate skin underneath," his eyes met yours, his gaze intense. "It was like unwrapping a gift, a treasure."

You couldn't stop yourself from blushing, his words making your heart race.

He chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He took a sip of his bourbon and leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Do you have enough information for your paper now?" He asked.

You smiled and nodded, "yes, but I don't know how to credit my sources," you chuckled. "I can't tell my professor that I'm writing a paper on the middle ages based on the first hand account of a vampire I know," you grinned.

"Hmmm, yes, I suppose that would be difficult." He said, his tone teasing. "How about you quote a 'unique source' that has a vast knowledge of the subject and a passion for it?"

You laughed, "That might work."

"Good," he said, offering you his hand. "Shall we?"

You looked at him quizzically, "where are we going?"

He smirked, "to the 14th century, of course."

"What?" You said, staring at him in disbelief.

"First hand experience is far more educational than anything written down," he said, taking your hand in his.

"You ready?" He asked, his expression serious.

You bit your lip nervously, unsure of what was about to happen, but you trusted him.

"Ready."

You were immediately plunged into his memories. He was standing in a large stone hall, surrounded by people in period clothing. There was laughter and music, and the scent of roasted meat and wine filled the air.

You watched as Elijah walked through the crowd, smiling and greeting people as he passed. He was dressed in a dark red tunic, and his hair was slicked back into a ponytail. It was an amusing haircut for him, but it was the fashion back then.

You followed him as he made his way towards a woman standing in a corner. She was beautiful, her dark hair was braided into a crown on her head, and she was wearing a yellow gown with red embroidery.

Elijah stood next to her, his hand resting on her arm. She turned to look at him, her eyes filled with longing. A feeling you knew well.

"My Lady," he said, bowing his head.

"Sir," she said, her voice soft and sensual.

"Would you care to dance?" He asked, offering her his hand.

She hesitated, her gaze shifting towards a man who was watching them intently.

"I don't think my husband would approve."

"You worry too much," Elijah said, taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor.

They began to move together, their bodies swaying in perfect sync. You couldn't tear your eyes away, watching the two of them. They moved with such grace and elegance, it was like watching a dance meant only for the two of them.

A sudden movement caught your eye, and you saw the woman's husband storming towards the couple. His eyes were filled with rage, and his jaw was clenched tightly.

"Elijah," you said, hoping he could hear you.

But he didn't respond, instead he continued to dance with the woman, ignoring her husband's fury. When the husband reached them, Elijah simply grabbed the man and compelled him.

"I'm going to take a walk with your wife, she will be back before the sun comes up."

He let go of the man, who immediately walked away, not saying a word. Elijah offered his hand to the woman, and she took it, a small smile playing on her lips.

They walked out of the castle together, and you found yourself following behind. You watched as they strolled through the gardens, their hands entwined. They stopped under a large oak tree, and Elijah pulled her close, kissing her deeply.

You were mesmerized by the scene, your heart aching for the man you had grown to love. You wished it was you in her place. You wished he would kiss you like that.

You heard Elijah's voice, but it wasn't coming from the version in front of you. "I courted her for months, sneaking into her chambers, bringing her flowers and trinkets," he chuckled. "It was rather clandestine and exciting."

"What happened?" You asked, wanting to know the ending.

"She became pregnant with her husband's child." He said, his voice low and full of regret.

Your heart ached for him, and for the woman who had been forced to marry another man. The memory faded and you returned to the present, still holding Elijah's hand.

"I'm sorry," you said, not knowing what else to say.

He smiled, "It's alright, it was a long time ago."

"It's lonely isn't it? Being a vampire?" You asked.

He was quiet for a moment, before answering. "Yes. I think it's why I value my family so much," his gaze shifted to yours, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "And why I treasure our friendship."

"Me too," you said softly, smiling up at him.

You both sat in silence for a while, watching the stars and enjoying each other's company. After a while, Elijah stood, fixing his suit jacket and giving you a smile. "I hope you get an A on your paper."

You grinned, "Thanks for the help, Elijah. Goodnight."

You went to your room, lying awake in the dark. Your thoughts consumed with him, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. The memory he had shared with you, it was so personal, and yet he didn't mind that you were there.

Your mind wandered to the way he was kissing that woman in the garden. His lips pressing against hers, his hands gripping her waist, his body flush against hers. You could see the way her head fell back, her eyes fluttering shut. You could feel the heat between them.

Your skin began to flush, and you felt a warmth between your legs. You had never felt such an intense desire for someone before, but there was no denying it.

You wanted him, you wanted to experience that kind of passion, that kind of intimacy.

Your hand trailed down your body, slowly slipping under the waistband of your panties. Your fingers brushing against your most sensitive spot. You gasped at the sensation, biting your lip as you started to circle your finger slowly.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you pictured him above you, his body pressed against yours as he kissed your neck and shoulders. Your hand moving faster as you imagined what his mouth would feel like on your skin, what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against yours.

You gasped, arching your back as you felt yourself coming undone, his name on your lips as you imagined him touching you.

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and you felt the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you. It was a satisfying release, but it left you wanting more.

You were determined to have him, to taste him, to feel him inside of you. You were going to make him yours.

You practically skipped into the compound, giddy and excited to share your A+ grade on your paper. Elijah had been so helpful, and you couldn't wait to show him.

You heard voices coming from the courtyard, and you hurried past the gate, hoping to find him. You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him, his arms wrapped around Hayley.

Her hand was tangled in his hair, and her body was pressed against his. Their eyes were closed, and their lips were locked in a passionate kiss.

You couldn't move. Your heart was shattered. You'd been foolish, thinking you had a chance with him. He was just being nice in his typical flirty way, and you were dumb enough to think it meant more. You'd just been reading into things.

You felt tears sting your eyes, and you quickly walked past them and up to your room. You collapsed onto the bed, your heart broken.

You cried, unable to hold back the pain.

You felt so stupid.

He didn't like you, he was just being friendly. And you'd fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. How could you possibly believe someone like him could ever like someone like you?

You heard a quiet knock at your door and Rebekah walked in, she had heard you crying and came to check on you.

"Hey, are you alright?" She asked, sitting down on the bed beside you.

"I'm fine." You said, your voice hoarse.

"Just crying for fun then?" She said, giving you a knowing look.

You sighed and sat up, wiping the tears from your face. "I'm just being silly," you said, shaking your head.

She sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug, which caused you to cry even more. She rubbed your back, trying to comfort you.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No, I just need to get over it." You said, your voice breaking.

"Get over what darling?" Rebekah asked, her eyes filled with concern.

"Elijah." You said, wiping away your tears.

She looked at you, confusion written all over her face.

"I may have a bit of a crush on your brother." You confessed.

She laughed, "Oh is that all? I thought you were going to say something terrible."

"What? You aren't surprised?" You asked, staring at her in disbelief.

"You're not exactly subtle, darling." She chuckled. "Your heart beats faster, making your cheeks flush, whenever he's near. And your eyes light up like Christmas morning whenever he talks to you. It's rather obvious."

You couldn't believe she had noticed all that. Damn vampires and their heightened senses, you were mortified. If Rebekah noticed then Elijah definitely did as well.

You buried your face in your hands, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"So why the tears?" Rebekah asked, patting you on the shoulder.

"Because I just saw him kissing Hayley."

Rebekah was quiet for a moment, thinking it over. She put her arm around your shoulders.

"That might not mean anything, they're just friends. They have a complicated history," she explained.

You shook your head, "No, I saw the way he looked at her, the way she kissed him. There's definitely something between them, and it's more than just friendship."

Rebekah sighed and hugged you again."He's an idiot, always been that way around women. Sometimes I think it's more of a blind spot for him than Klaus," she said, her voice soothing.

You chuckled and wiped away your tears.

"He'll come around eventually," she said, smiling softly. "He just needs time to figure it out."

"Figure what out?" You asked, sniffling.

"That you're the perfect girl for him," she said, giving you an affectionate smile.

You smiled back and hugged her, thankful for her support. You felt a little better, and you were glad that she didn't judge you.

"I have an idea, a way for you to make him see what a catch you are," Rebekah said, her eyes glinting.

"Really?" You asked, excited at the prospect.

"Yes and it will be a chance for you to get him alone, away from Hayley," she smirked.

"I don't want to be that girl..," you started, not sure if you should meddle.

"I am," she grinned.

You chuckled, and Rebekah began telling you the plan. You listened intently, feeling better already. You were excited, and nervous.

But mostly excited.

Rebekah's idea was to have a costume party, she loved any excuse to throw one. It also gave you a reason to dress up, to catch Elijah's eye.

You went shopping with Rebekah, she wanted to make sure you got something that would suit your figure. She asked you what sort of theme it should be and you couldn't resist choosing one that you knew well: a medieval theme.

You found a beautiful, off the shoulder, forest green dress, with a tight laced corset that had gold threading, and long, flowing, bell sleeves. It was the perfect combination of modern and historical and it made your tits look fantastic.

Rebekah had gone with a blue version of the same dress, and the two of you were having a blast getting ready. She helped you style your hair for the night and even did your makeup, making sure that your look would draw Elijah's eye.

"Ready?" She asked, as the two of you looked at yourselves in the mirror.

"Yes," you said, trying to mask your nerves.

The two of you made your way down to the courtyard, where the party was in full swing.

Everyone was dressed in costumes from various time periods, and the atmosphere was electric. The music was loud, and people were dancing, laughing, and having a good time.

You saw Hayley and Klaus talking to some guests, and your eyes wandered around the room, looking for Elijah.

He was standing by the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd. He looked incredible, his dark hair perfectly styled, wearing a black velvet suit jacket with a high collar, a blue cravat and a white dress shirt.

Hayley walked up to you and Rebekah, and complimented the both of you on your dresses. She was dressed in a Victorian era gown, complete with a corset and a large bustle.

"So, where's Elijah tonight?" Rebekah asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Oh, he's around here somewhere," Hayley said bitterly, glancing around the room.

You felt a twinge of excitement. She sounded irritated by him. Maybe she wasn't happy in their relationship.

"What's wrong ?" Rebekah asked her, squeezing your hand subtly. You loved how sneaky she could be sometimes.

"It's just," Hayley paused, her eyes narrowing as she thought about her answer. "I don't think he's very interested in a relationship with me, he's been avoiding me all night."

Rebekah and you shared a look, a smirk playing on your lips.

"He's a hard one to read, that's for sure," you said, trying to sound sympathetic.

"I'm sorry to hear that darling, but perhaps its for the best," Rebekah added.

"Maybe, I just thought we were on the same page, I thought we had something," Hayley said, a pout forming on her lips.

You could see the pain in her eyes, and you couldn't help but feel sorry for her. You knew exactly how she felt.

"You're a gorgeous woman, and any man would be lucky to have you," Rebekah said, her voice genuine.

"Thanks," Hayley said, a sad smile on her face. "There is this guy here, his name is Jack, we've been flirting all night and he wants to dance with me," she said, looking over at a tall, handsome man in a knight costume.

"Then go," Rebekah said, smiling at her.

"Yeah, you deserve some fun," you said, trying not to sound too happy that Elijah might be single.

"Alright, I'm gonna do it," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

She walked off, and Rebekah turned to you, her face breaking into a wide grin.

"How unfortunate for Hayley, how fortunate for you," she smirked.

You couldn't help but smile.

"Go, now's your chance, he's all alone." Rebekah said, her eyes scanning the room.

"I'm not going to make a fool of myself," you said, shaking your head.

"You're not going to make a fool of yourself darling, you're going to have a wonderful time," she said, giving you a little shove.

You took a deep breath and headed toward Elijah, your heart racing. He looked very similar to how he dressed in the memory he shared with you, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

He was standing alone by the bar, his gaze distant. You walked up to him and smiled, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.

"Hey," you said, trying to sound casual. "Nice outfit, all you are missing is the ponytail,” you added, grinning at him.

"Some things are better left in the past," he teased, his eyes wandering over your dress. "You look lovely," he added, a small smile on his face.

"You like the corset?" You asked, biting your lip and giving him a twirl. You always felt so giddy around him, it made you do silly things, like this.

His eyes widened, and a smirk spread across his face. "Yes, it's quite flattering," he said, his gaze lingering on your breasts.

You blushed but maintained your composure, Elijah liked confident women, and you were going to show him what he was missing.

"Does it remind you of the era?" You asked, a flirty tone in your voice.

"No, it's far too revealing for the time period," he smirked.

"Oh, really? You didn't think this was sexy in the middle ages?" You asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I didn't say that," he chuckled.

"Good," you smiled, "I worked hard on this outfit."

He looked at you, his face full of curiosity.

"You are definitely thorough in your research," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"I forgot to tell you I got an A+ on the paper, thank you for your help," you said, smiling brightly.

"It was a purely selfish reason, I wanted an excuse to spend time with you," he said, his words catching you off guard.

"Oh, I," you stammered, not sure how to respond.

"You are always very easy to be around," he said, giving you a gentle smile.

You smiled and nodded, his compliment filling your heart with joy.

"Care to dance?" He asked, offering you his hand.

Your heart raced, and your breath caught in your throat. You nodded, unable to form words. He took your hand and led you to the dance floor, his grip firm and possessive.

You looked up at him, your heart pounding. He was so handsome, and the way he was looking at you made you weak in the knees.

You closed your eyes and let him lead, the feel of his hands on your body making your blood run hot. You couldn't believe this was happening, it felt surreal.

"I have a confession," he said, his voice barely audible above the music.

"What is it?" you asked, looking into his eyes.

"You make me nervous," he stuttered, his words causing your heart to flutter.

You let out a louder laugh than you meant too, then turned bright red and some people glanced at you. You didn't want him to think you were laughing at him, but you couldn't stop.

"Me? Nervous? How do I make you nervous?" You asked, genuinely curious.

He tilted his head in confusion, a wide smile forming on his face.

"I mean, look at you," he said, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You're breathtaking."

You blushed, not used to receiving such compliments. "You make me nervous too," you confessed, smiling shyly.

"I know," he smirked, causing you to blush deeper.

You gazed up at him, his brown eyes full of warmth and admiration. He truly was an incredible man.

You rested your head against his chest and closed your eyes, letting the music and the feeling of his arms around you wash over you. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, like you were made for each other. Your heart soared, you felt like you were dreaming.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Do you want to go somewhere quieter?"

Your eyes snapped open and your heart raced, his question sending a rush of heat to your core.

He wanted you.

You nodded, unable to form words. He took your hand, a smirk forming on his lips as he led you toward a balcony. You followed him eagerly, your heart hammering in your chest.

The cool air hit your face, and he led you to a secluded area, away from the other party guests. You gazed at him, your desire for him overwhelming.

He placed his hands on your waist and pressed you up against the wall. His lips were mere inches from yours, his eyes burning into you.

His fingers brushed against the side of your face, then he leaned in and kissed you. It was slow and passionate, his lips soft against yours. You let out a quiet moan as you melted into his kiss.

He pulled away and looked at you, his eyes full of desire. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he breathed.

"Then why were you kissing Hayley?" You blurted out before you could stop yourself. You felt terrible for even saying it, it made you seem jealous and possessive. You knew it wasn't fair for you to get upset at him, you had no right to. But you couldn't help it.

His eyes widened and a smirk spread across his face. "So you are jealous?"

You blushed and averted your gaze.

"It was a mistake, she caught me by surprise," he explained, his fingers brushing your hair back. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

You nodded and looked up at him. He smiled and kissed you again, this time harder and more passionate.

He broke the kiss and whispered, "I've been drawn to you from the moment I met you."

Your heart soared at his words, your desire for him overwhelming. You wanted to feel his skin against yours, you needed him.

"Do you want to see my room? I have some books to share with you," you asked, knowing neither of you were doing any reading tonight.

He raised an eyebrow, "Lead the way," he said, his eyes twinkling.

Your heart pounded with excitement, and you took his hand in yours, leading him up to your room. You couldn't believe this was happening.

He closed the door behind him and kissed you, leading you backwards towards your bed. The back of your legs hit the edge and you fell down on the bed, your chest rising and falling rapidly. The corset making it difficult to breath, you tried to keep calm as you looked up at him. The reality was better than any fantasy you could ever dream of.

He placed his knee on the bed and leaned down to kiss you, his hands moving over your body, his fingers tugging at the laces of the corset. He did it slowly, each pull causing your breasts to spill out a little more.

He hummed softy, leaning down and kissing your neck and collarbone as your corset fell to the ground. He was so gentle with you, treating you with care, his movements deliberate and confident.

He unlaced the front of your dress, exposing your breasts. He gazed down at you, a look of wonder in his eyes. You couldn't help but blush at his reaction.

"Did you wear this in the hope I would take it off?" He asked, his voice husky.

"Maybe," you blushed.

He chuckled, leaning down and taking one of your breasts into his mouth. You let out a soft moan as he licked and sucked your nipple, his hands kneading your breast. You ran your hands through his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.

He pulled back and smiled down at you, then began to undo his cravat. You watched him eagerly, biting your lip as he pulled it off and began unbuttoning his shirt. You reached out and helped him, your hands brushing against his toned chest.

He smiled and took your hand, pressing his lips to the inside of your wrist. "I've dreamt of this moment for so long," he murmured.

He reached out and pulled your dress up over your head, leaving you in just your panties and stockings. His gaze was filled with desire as he looked down at you.

You felt confident under his gaze, he made you feel beautiful. He leaned down and kissed you again, his fingers running up your thighs, playfully pulling on your stocking and letting it snap back into place. You giggled at his teasing.

He smiled against your lips and tugged your panties off. His eyes raked over your body, his gaze filled with desire.

You reached out and helped him remove the rest of his clothes, your heart racing.

He lowered himself down on the bed beside you and pulled you into his arms, kissing you softly. His hand lifted your thigh around his hips, and he ran his fingers along your thigh and between your legs, a groan escaping his throat at the feel of how wet you were for him. You blushed at his reaction and looked away, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"Are you nervous?" He asked, looking down at you, his gaze tender and warm.

"A little, you're the first vampire I've been with," you admitted.

He chuckled, a wide smile on his face. "I promise I won't bite," he whispered, a hint of humor in his voice.

You couldn't help but giggle.

You ran your hand up and down his chest, then slowly down to his hard length. You took his shaft in your hand and began to stroke him, a low groan escaping his lips.

Your eyes locked, his gaze filled with desire as he watched you pleasure him. You increased the pressure of your strokes, rubbing the tip of him in your hand.

"You feel nice," you whispered, your lips inches from his own.

He smiled and pulled you on top of him, your breasts against his chest as he kissed you deeply, his hands gripping your ass. You grinded on him slowly, the feel of his cock against your pussy making you gasp.

You sat up and slowly sank down onto him, the feel of him inside of you making your breath catch in your throat. He felt so good.

"You're perfect," he whispered as he reached up and ran his fingers through your hair, gently tugging you back down to him, kissing you deeply. You began to rock on top of him, the friction causing you to moan softly. He ran his hands over your back, groaning into your ear as you rode him, taking him deeper.

It was slow, hot and sticky, the two of you getting to know each other's bodies, exploring and teasing. Your orgasm slowly built, your moans becoming more and more intense. You felt his grip on you tighten, his breathing becoming ragged.

Your heart pounded against his as he gazed up at you, a smile on his lips. His hands gripped your hips and he took control, guiding your movements, rocking you back and forth. You gazed into each other's eyes, a silent understanding passing between the two of you. You felt a connection beyond lust or attraction, something deep and beautiful, and you knew he felt it too.

You rocked together, lost in one another, and you let yourself fall apart on top of him. Your body spasming, a long moan escaping your throat as your orgasm crashed into you, your muscles clenching around him.

He gazed up at you, his eyes filled with love and desire. "That's my girl," he whispered.

He gently rolled you on to your side, keeping your bodies connected. His fingers digging into your thigh as he held it against his hip, kissing and nuzzling your neck. He took you slowly, drawing out your pleasure as long as possible. His eyes never left yours, the love you felt for each other in that moment, palpable in the room.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, you tugged his head towards yours as you kissed him. He kissed you back, his movements becoming more frantic, his thrusts deep and rough.

His eyebrows arched upwards, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing. Your clung to his shoulders, moaning his name as he found his release deep inside of you. He held you close as he came down, the two of you a tangle of limbs and sweaty bodies.

He kept kissing you, soft and unhurried, his hand stroking your thigh, keeping you connected and still wrapped around him. You both caught your breath as you held each other close, neither wanting the moment to end.

"I've had a crush on you since the first day I saw you," you murmured into his ear, causing him to pull away and smile.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead, "And I, you."

He gently slipped out of you and pulled the sheets over your naked bodies, his arms encircling you in his embrace. You fell asleep in each other's arms, content and happy, dreaming of more nights just like this.

{Moodboard->}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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[aloesarchives]

Popular Boy (JJK One-Shot)

TW/Warnings: Fem Reader and She/Her pronouns, Angst with Fluff ending, Profanity, Smoking from Shoko and Suguru, Highkey Miscommunication Trope, Cheesy cliches, this one-shot being way too long than it's supposed to be, a little OOC Satoru and Suguru

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader

AU: Modern/High School AU!

Pronouns: She/Her(any gal could read this, but Reader is slightly coded to be introverted, good at drawing and crafts, and a nerd)

Word Count: 10.2k words

Summary: You weren't supposed to fall in love with your best friend Satoru Gojo. But you did anyway. It doesn't help that he is the most popular guy in your school.

(A/N): This is my longest one-shot to date. I went off the rails and wrote this out of this idea and brain dump I had. Un top of being sick, I didn't post for like 2 weeks because I was working on this and having little motivation. But I'm back!

[!!!Unedited and not proofread!!! 1/24/2024 4:27pm CST]

Having a crush on your best friend is the absolute worst. You promised yourself you wouldn’t. But after reviewing your symptoms, you concluded that you are, indeed, in love with your best friend, Satoru Gojo. It's too bad he’s the most popular guy in the school. Suguru is second to him but doesn’t bask in the attention like his friend does.

It all started when you became friends with them in your first year of high school. Shoko was in your class, and you two became best friends instantly. You’d usually eat alone somewhere during break or lunch because the cafeteria was always rowdy, making it overstimulating. One day, your usual spot was taken over. Though it bummed you out your little spot was discovered, it wasn’t yours in the first place, so you went on a search for a new one. After a few minutes of searching, you spotted Shoko smoking in a hidden spot behind the school. She hears you from how your feet crunch on the dirt and asks you to join her. Though you didn’t smoke, you stayed with her. After talking briefly, Shoko asked if you were free after school, taking a long drag out of her cigarette.

You never stayed too long after school, only for your respective clubs, but that’s it. You also had no friends, so maybe this is your chance to get closer to Shoko. Upon agreeing, she smiles before taking her last drag out and extinguishing her smoke in a nearby ashtray. As the two of you returned to class, she told you that her other two friends were coming. Hinting that they were quite the handful. Your expression lightens upon hearing the two new people joining your hangout with Shoko. Perhaps this could be what you needed to step outside of your comfort zone to have a social experience like everyone else your age.

 After getting off the train with Shoko, she pulled you along the busy crowd and met the two boys at the subway station entrance. You didn’t, however, expect Shoko’s mystery friends to be Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto—the most well-known boys in the entire school and possibly the whole district. Shoko was making your introduction to them as you grew shy under their gaze. Nervous was an understatement; anxiety was brewing in you like rain clouds forming a storm. What if they scoff at you? Mock you? Purposely pick on you for fun? Each thought raced against each other across your mind that you didn’t notice Satoru placing his hand on your shoulder. It snapped you back to reality as you looked up to avoid being rude.

 You’ve heard the rumors and the hushed whispers from every corner of the school about how Satoru Gojo was among the most good-looking guys. How he had blue eyes that matched the sky and hair like snow. You only caught glimpses of him throughout the campus but never saw him up close. But now that you are, you can confirm it for yourself. To you, he looked more ethereal, if anything. His blue eyes were like the endless cerulean sky above, his white hair lightly tousled in the wind; he was beautiful to you.

“Hey, you don’t have to stiffen up around me. I don’t want you to go all shy on me (Y/N). Satoru Gojo, at your service~.”

Extend his hand to shake yours; you return the gesture, albeit clumsily. Satoru chuckles before he unexpectedly brings your hand to his lips. He kissed your fingers ever so gently, feather-like almost. Your body most certainly would have erupted in a blaze by his actions. But it didn’t; you were more caught off-guard. You wondered if he did this to every girl he came across. He just smiled afterward but gets bonked on the head by Suguru, who went to introduce himself to you.

“Satoru, you’re going to scare her off. Sorry (Y/N), he’s always like that. I’m Suguru Geto, and I hope you’re not uncomfortable because of him.”

You quickly dismissed it, trying to ease Suguru’s concerns. After hanging out with them, you knew you found people you would call friends. You never had that much fun until you hung out with them. Going to arcades, eating out together, and wandering the city of Tokyo filled you with non-replicable happiness. After that hangout, the rest was history. Since then, you have always hung out with Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. You all stuck together like glue every time possible. You never guessed their popularity rubbed off as well. You became known on campus as a well-known upperclassman and now a senior. 

But you noticed you spent more time with Satoru than with Shoko or Suguru. You could credit it to his goofy, childish personality that matched your vibe even more. He loved discussing Digimon and was happy you shared the same interest. You two would indulge in each other’s interests and hobbies. It became more evident that both of you had grown closer from when Shoko adopted you into their group. Yet, you told yourself time and time again not to fall for Satoru. In fear of losing what you have with each other because you caught “feelings.” In addition, Satoru had many, many, MANY admirers—girls across the school, district, and the Tokyo Metropolitan area. Many come from prominent backgrounds, blessed with being gifted, or simply beautiful in every way. While you didn’t mean to self-sabotage yourself, you were beautiful and brilliant in your own right; you were being realistic. How could someone like Satoru Gojo, from a wealthy and prominent family for centuries, go for someone like you? It was wishful thinking at that point, but it was stretching itself thin even then.

Anyhow, this brings you to the present. It’s December 1st, six days before Satoru’s birthday. You were in your dorm, conjuring up what to get him. It was more complicated than because the man was loaded. He had the money to buy anything and everything he wanted. So what can you get for him that wasn’t already bought? After some time, you had the genius idea to make something for him. You decided on making a bracelet and a framed sketch of him from one of your sketchbooks you occasionally draw in.

While working on your gifts, you were on the receiving end of teasing from Suguru and Shoko, specifically from Suguru. I mean, he was the first one to catch on to your feelings for his friend. Shoko had her suspicions but never mentioned them in case she was delusional. But once Suguru brought it up, she instantly joined in the teasing. It was harmless fun, yet you couldn’t help but rethink your crush on Satoru. Your feelings for him shouldn’t exist, yet you can’t help it. You felt alive, but most of all, you felt comfortable and safe with Satoru. You never hid your lovely personality or felt ashamed of your interests. Satoru was always supportive and was a part of your shenanigans too. As cheesy as it was to admit, it felt like you’ve found your soulmate, your other half. You always relished your moments with Satoru, no matter how short or dumb they were. Sure, you loved your moments with the gang, but it hits differently when it’s only Satoru and you. It was as if your life changed when he came into it. 

During the day before Satoru’s birthday, Shoko and Suguru hunched over your desk as you finished the page you were doodling. The smears from the graphite and erased pencil markings showed the fine details to capture Satoru’s features. 

“Wow, those look exactly like him. If he were animated, he'd be drawn like this. May I, (Y/N)?” Suguru asked.

You nodded, and Suguru picked up the sketchbook to inspect the page further. Shoko peered over his shoulder to also get a look.

“I think Gojo would love this. Don’t you think so, Suguru?”

“I would think so too, Shoko. It’s a well-thought-out gift (Y/N). Satoru would love it.”

“Wait, (Y/N)! Show Suguru what else you made him!”

Suguru raises a brow at the brunette as you pull up a photo on your phone to show to Suguru. Suguru squinted his eyes a bit to see the picture a bit more clearly.

“You made that bracelet for Satoru? It’s pretty nice. Where’s our (Y/N)?”

“I have them back in my room, Suguru! I just. . . You know. . .”

“So you’re implying we’re not as special as your beloved Blue Eyes White Dragon?”

“SHOKO, you’re not helping!!! OfcourseImadeitmorespecialforhimbecausehereallylikesdigimonandhisbirthdayiscomingup–”

“(Y/N)! I was just joking! Geez, calm down before you pop a blood vessel.”

As you catch yourself from any further rambling, you are about to explain the bracelet to Suguru before Satoru slides the classroom door open. You think it’s him but can’t tell through the mountain of gifts and bags in his arms. But seeing a wisp of his white hair gave you all the more reason that it was Satoru. Satoru plops the pile on his desk as his arms cave in, some gifts falling off the edge and onto the floor. One fell near your desk, so you picked it up and placed it back on his desk.

“Is it Valentine’s Day? What’s with the gifts, Satoru?”

“*sighs* These are from numerous girls all over the school from varying grades. My birthday is tomorrow, so I guess I'll get the early gifts. Though, I don’t know how to return all this to my dorm. You guys wanna help me open them up back in my room?”

You all replied yes and helped Satoru with his pile of gifts. As you put on your sketchbook, you felt a breath tickle your ear.

“Hey, whatcha drawing, (Y/N)? Drawing (favorite Digimon/Pokemon) again? Let me see!”

You caught a whiff of his surprisingly minty, fresh breath. Usually, it comes in hot with the number of sweets he’s been eating, so this was a pleasant surprise to you.

“I’ll show you later when we open your gifts in your room, ‘Toru. You gotta be patient.”

You chided while swatting his all too-close face away from you. Little did you know, a sickly sweet smile flashed on his face upon hearing his nickname. Once the last bell rang, you four headed straight for Satoru’s dorm to open all the gifts he received from the day. Once dumping them into a pile, you each read the note attached to the gifts and opened them up. Some were cool, homemade gifts, others were basic and generic. Most were sweets or baked goods since he is widely known to have a sweet tooth. You all were open and chatty when Suguru grabbed a neatly wrapped velvet box.

“Hey, Satoru, isn’t this from your ex?”

“Which one?”

“Don’t know, let me see the tag. . . From Satomi. . .”

“Oh, her! Let me see, Suguru!”

You cringed hard hearing Satoru talk about his numerous “girlfriends.” As much as you didn’t want to say it, Satoru’s playboy attitude was your least favorite thing about him. All the girls he saw shared one common trait: they never stayed too long with him. Satoru would cycle through many girls every few weeks to maybe a month. He never bothered to introduce them into the friend group, let alone bring them to your shared hangouts. Now that you think about it, he never talks about them when you or the others are present. He never calls them his girlfriends or partners, just sugar-coated words and nicknames meant to sweeten a non-existent fruit that never grew in the first place. You wondered if he would treat you the same if you dated him. But you were thinking too deeply, FOCUS GIRL!!! It’s now or never. Well, not really, but you have the perfect chance to give Satoru his birthday gift! You can make it work for just the two of you! Find him by himself, steal him away to deliver your gift, and possibly confess. 

Satoru's birthday gifts from his fans dwindled to only small boxes and clear bags. Shoko and Suguru categorized his gifts as apparel, food, trinkets, etc., while Satoru plopped beside you. You were munching away at some candy, deciding to take a break from opening the cookie cutter-esk presents as your vision became spotty. It was silent for a moment, only the sounds of your other two friends' voices bickering about which pile a gift should go. Satoru shifts his attention towards you, mindlessly popping the candy into your mouth before dramatically yawning, spreading his limbs across his bed. His legs would stretch over your lap. You popped the last candy before throwing the empty bag at him.

“What’s wrong, Satoru? You've grown tired of your gifts or what?”

“That and feeling sore from sitting on the floor. . . Hey! Will you show me your drawing from earlier (Y/N)?”

“Uh. . . I dunno, Satoru–”

“Pleaseeeeeeee?! I promise I won’t crease the pages like last time! Come on (Y/N)!”

Satoru juts out his lip and gives his puppy eyes with praying hands. You glance at Suguru and Shoko, who snickered at your little predicament. You sighed deeply and pulled out your sketchbook for him to see. He was giving you his full attention, asking questions, and complimenting the fine details of your latest creation. You two were smiling and giggling along as you turned the pages. However, you were getting nervous because you didn’t want Satoru to see his page. You hoped he got bored or distracted so you didn’t have to flip through more from your book. Suguru has a sixth sense because he called Satoru’s attention before you flipped to the next page, which would’ve been his. 

“Okay, man, we sorted your gifts into these four separate piles, which one should be obvious. . . Look at the time; it’s almost curfew for the girls. I’ll walk them to their dorms, Satoru.”

Before Satoru could protest and tag along, Suguru snatched you and Shoko away and out of the dorm. Satoru stood up perplexed, before shrugging it off and storing his gifts away. Suguru dragged you two to the skywalk and looked dead into your eyes, startling you from his sudden closeness.

“You have to do it tomorrow, (Y/N).”

“Uh, do what, Suguru?”

Shoko and Suguru gave each other a face before looking back at you.

“You gotta confess to Satoru, (Y/N). Do it tomorrow when you give him your gift on his birthday. And before you ask, we knew about your feelings for him way before. It’s painfully obvious, (Y/N).”

Shoko just nods her head in agreement. You knew Suguru had a point; it’s now or never. But you didn’t want to make things awkward for Satoru, let alone pressure him to say yes because he feels terrible for rejecting. Overthinking started kicking into high gear, and you started thinking about every possible scenario Satoru could react to. None of them were of him reciprocating your feelings. Unfortunately, Suguru had to say the dread words no one wants to hear when trying to confess to their crush.

“The worst thing he could say is no, (Y/N).”

Shoko elbows him while you wince at his words. You knew he meant to comfort you, but it didn’t help ease your nerves. Suguru, observant as ever, picked up on it, and from Shoko’s reaction, he knew his words were a miss.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll come with you for support, so it won’t be as stressful going alone.”

Suguru gives you a comforting smile, and you give on in return. Shoko said she couldn’t come because she volunteered to tutor some underclassmen for some Visa gift cards. So she says good luck to you before walking across the skyway and into the building of the girls' dormitory. You gained some confidence and bid Suguru goodnight to finalize your gifts. You framed Satoru’s page in a sleek dark blue frame and knotted Satoru’s bracelet. The marble beads of the bracelet were white, cerulean blue, and black. Complementing each with a small interchange charm in the middle where an Agumon charm dangled freely. You wrapped up both gifts and placed them in a mildly used paper bag you had from when you went shopping.

As the next day rolled in, you were surprisingly giddy to give your gift. You just had to catch Satoru alone and give yourself a good ten minutes to slip in your confession. The problem was you hadn’t seen Satoru at all. Sure, today was a half-day, but Satoru was barely in class. When he was, though, he was flooded by many girls telling him happy birthday or giving more gifts. Since it was a Friday, Satoru didn’t do much after school and would wander Tokyo for the remainder of the day. You knew you were losing time, so doing it right after school was best.

Once the last bell rang, you packed your bag and held your present tightly to find Satoru. However, he was gone from his seat when you looked at his desk. While you tried to find him, Suguru texted you. He said he saw Satoru go behind the school. He also said he would wait for you at the front gate to hear about your results. As you go to the back, you are smiling so hard that it would make your teeth rot. But as you got closer, your sweet smile instantly dropped when you heard a girl’s voice and another voice you made out to be Satoru’s. Your heartbeat repeatedly drummed in your ears as you hid yourself to not be noticed. Trying to even out your breath, you slowly peek your head in a slow, agonizing manner to get a better look. Unfortunately, your curiosity kills your heart as it confirms your worst fear.

Satoru stood smiling, and another girl giggled like a classic school girl in a high-school rom-com movie. You recognized her as she was in the same grade but from a different class. You’ve seen her around but never been a part of Satoru’s unofficial fan club. Yet you could never have guessed she liked him too. You knew you should look away, already seeing what was needed. But the naive sliver of hope forced you to continue watching, hoping it was a delusion your mind conjured up. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew the other girl beat you to him as she held Satoru’s hand and smiled up at him. Satoru places a hand on her cheek and probably says something you can make out ‘I love you' before dipping his head to meet hers. A chill washes over your body as your grip on Satoru’s present stiffens, further crimping the paper bag. Shakily, you pulled out your phone and took a picture before turning on your heels and going anywhere but here.

Suguru was ever so patiently waiting on the outcome. He was blissfully smiling. Hoping all is going well and in your favor. He was distracted by his phone when he recognized the sound of your footsteps. He pockets it as he sees your figure walk towards the gates. He cheerfully called out for you but was met with silence. When you walked past him, your head hung low; Suguru knew something was wrong. Concerned, he quickly went after you while calling for you. When nothing works, he steps in front of you to hold your shoulders still to prevent any more movement. Shaking your shoulders, he firmly asks what’s wrong.

A wretched look contorted on his face when he saw your face. Your eyes are shiny from glossy tears on the verge of overflowing from the edges. Lips in a tight quiver, trying to not let a sob escape from within the depths of your hurt soul. You were trying your best to stay together, but Suguru saw you were hanging on by a thread. He gives you a comforting, tight hug as you begin to cry into him. Letting it all out and providing comforting pats on your back. As you start to calm down, Suguru gently takes you to a nearby cafe where some of your group hangouts and study sessions happen. Considering your current state, he keeps you from paying for your drink. Once he got them and sat down, you told him what you saw that caused this. Suguru chokes on his drink in disbelief upon hearing about Satoru’s doings.

“He what?! Are you sure, (Y/N)?”

You nodded as you pulled up the picture on your phone to show Suguru. His eyes widen even further as he stares at the picture. Returning back your phone, he takes a big sip of his drink.

“So, what are you going with your gift then, (Y/N)? Are you still going to give it to Satoru?”

“I... I. . . Don’t know, Suguru. . . I did make it for him, but I don’t think he’ll care.”

“What makes you think he wouldn’t, (Y/N)?”

“You know what I mean, Suguru. Satoru doesn’t really hold onto any gifts he gets. Unless it’s sweets or something he thinks is cool, he’ll donate, give, or throw it away. My present would collect dust in his room and be forgotten. We literally sorted out his fan mail yesterday.”

You glance over at your initial present for Satoru. The bag has deep creases and wrinkles from death gripping it in your disassociated state. You delicately bring it to your lap, blankly staring at the two dedicated gifts inside. Sighing in defeat, you slowly fold the top of the bag before setting it back in its previous place. You gave Suguru a tired smile, saying how wishful thinking blinded you from reality. Suguru couldn’t help but feel pity. It hurts him to see you like this and blame yourself for dreaming about something he knew would become a reality. But he was thrown in for a loop because he was sure his best friend was hopelessly in love with you. The glances, the consistency of bringing up your name, the extra care he gave when it came to you, IT WAS ALL RIGHT THERE! Was Satoru leading everyone on, you included? Suguru was going to get to the bottom of this. He escorts you back and asks Shoko to stay with you until nighttime. 

After filling Shoko in, you looked at the crippled bag sitting alone on the floor. Taunting, making a mockery of you, and constantly reminding you how you really let your feelings get out of hand to let you believe a fantasy. How foolish you are, little stupid fool you were, you think. Getting off your bed, you go over to the bane that reminds you of your naivete as a hopeless romantic. You were tempted to throw the whole bag away; consider burning it all.

Despite thinking of wiping the existence of those gifts from this world, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. They were drawings of Satoru and a handmade bracelet with his favorite Digimon, and you were proud of how they turned out. The time and dedication you put into it really showed how much this man had a chokehold on your life no matter what. Crush, friend, it didn’t matter. He really changed your life; you would be forever grateful for that. Even if that meant you always stayed friends. It was a better fate than being strangers altogether. So you decide to store the bag in an empty drawer for miscellaneous items, not wanting to see it anymore. Shoko was surprised by your actions. Though she would understand you destroying them, she didn’t expect you to keep your gifts. You just shrugged, saying destroying it wouldn’t do you any good. No amount of satisfaction or fulfillment would come from it. Shoko just gives you a hug as you lean into it.

Ever since that day, you slowly stopped talking to Satoru. He didn’t notice it because you would make excuses or leave immediately before he could catch up. He thought you were busy with homework and school. It was brought to his attention when you wouldn’t hang out with him. Whenever he texted you to hang out, you would say you were busy or not feeling good. It got worse when you didn’t attend your group hangouts with Suguru and Shoko. It was always the four of you. Without you, it felt incomplete, and Satoru started to miss you and the vibe you brought. Even when he asked Suguru or Shoko where you were, they would give the same answer you did. And it was starting to frustrate him. Did he say or do something to distance yourself from him? Did he accidentally hurt without realizing it? Why did you suddenly not want to talk to him anymore? He sees you talking to your other friends and classmates without a care in the world. Your lovely lips always curled upwards, and how your cheeks and eyes molded to highlight your face, you were absolute divinity in his eyes. Had you always looked so beautiful to him? Yes, but he didn’t realize that until now since his only way of looking at you is from a distance. 

Every time he would try to make his way over to you, you gave a quick side glance in his direction before wrapping up any conversation and leaving. This honestly began to hurt Satoru. He had never dealt something like this with anyone else. Maybe when he had severe fights with Suguru, but they would make up in the end since he knew it was mostly his fault. But this is different because he was in the dark of your avoidance. It was like he was the bubonic plague, and you were straight-up social distancing yourself from him. It didn’t matter when or where; as soon as he entered within a 12-foot radius, you were going in the other direction. This had been going on for almost two weeks! It was now the 21st, the last school day before winter break. Nothing significant was happening today besides the classic winter break assembly. He needed to talk to you so you two could somehow talk it out and make it. It’s ironic how oblivious he was to the circumstances he was in. The roles are now reversed because now he’s pining after you like you had been for him for the past few years. You usually would sit with them during these events, but since you’re distancing, you opted to sit with your peers. When you did sit with them, you would be the furthest away from Satoru. 

Satoru should’ve been paying attention to the assembly. But his only focus was you, who was on the other side of the gymnasium. You were sitting on opposite bleachers with one of your underclassmen, Riko Amanai. Satoru wished he could teleport himself to you, pick you up, and go to a quiet place to talk. But he knew he had to be patient to make his move, something Suguru had to remind him constantly. Once the assembly was over, Satoru by-lined to where you were. However, the sea of students eager to leave school is challenging, even for the 6’3 boy. He saw glimpses of you with Riko as you pulled her along and weaved through the crowd out of the school. The resistance he met trying to reach you became so aggravating he was shoving anyone who got in his way. It got to the point where students made room for him to pass through, fearing the wrath of Satoru Gojo in a bad mood.

Alas, once he exited the school, you had already gone off campus to who knows where with Riko and Kuroi, her caretaker. Satoru tightened his fists, and his face bore a scowl as you slipped away again. He would have punched the school’s concrete fence if Suguru didn’t pop up in front of him. Satoru was slightly calmed when he saw his friend, but a twinge of unease settled in when he saw Suguru’s strained smile. To a regular person, it seemed like a genuine smile. But Satoru knew Suguru enough to know when he gave these smiles. This one meant he was in deep trouble. Suguru said he needed to talk to Satoru about something over a bucket of KFC with one of the Visa gift cards Shoko gave them. Satoru followed it, knowing there was more to Suguru’s unidentified mood. However, Suguru just stops in front of the KFC, idly standing with his back to him. Seeing his standoffish behavior, Satoru becomes confused and finally breaks their tense silence.

“Look, Suguru, I know this isn’t the best time. But we need to talk about (Y/N).”

“What is there to talk about her, Satoru?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Suguru. You noticed how (Y/N) has barely been hanging out with us. Giving excuses to not hang out. I don’t understand why this happened so fast. Two weeks ago, (Y/N) was fine. She was laughing with us and being a part of our stupid antics. Then, after my birthday, she slowly stopped replying to my texts and avoided me altogether. Suguru, you got to know something. I don’t want to be left in the dark anymore. I need to know what I did to make her stop talking to me.”

Oh, Suguru knew the reason why you were doing this. You told him yourself. You admitted to Suguru you didn’t know how to act around Satoru anymore, in fear of spilling your confession and making a fool out of yourself. You knew how cowardly it was to do this. Not correctly communicating your emotions and actions to Satoru was self-sabotage, and your relationship with him would suffer severely. You tried to ride out your feelings to the best of your abilities. But you learned that those feelings for Satoru wouldn’t go away no matter what you did. So, you thought the best option was to slowly distance yourself from Satoru to heal your broken heart and save your dignity. Suguru was against this at first. But he let it slide since it was only Satoru and not him or Shoko.

What he didn’t let slide was how he saw his best friend paraded around his latest girlfriend. He knew that relationship wouldn’t last at all because there was one thing he knew about his best friend. Satoru Gojo is a lonely person. No amount of fan girls or guys dick-riding him would fill the void of loneliness Satoru faced in his life. He always was told that he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He was talented and good at anything and everything he did. But with that, people only saw him from afar, never really caring to realize Satoru was like anyone else besides his wealth. Suguru knew you made Satoru feel seen and let him dwell on his antics so he could be a teen, not some high, mighty God people were willing to kiss his feet. Satoru fell in love with you but doesn’t want to admit it. Seemingly taken you for granted. Suguru doesn’t blame you for trying to lose feelings for him. He would, too, if the person he liked gave mixed signals and had a cycle through partners like daily outfits even though they heavily implied to their best friend they wanted you but never cared to tell.

You would have made the first move. But with many rejections, some harsher than others, you decide to wait for the other person to say something first or drop an obvious hint. You aren’t going to drive through a red light, only green ones. You often hear the phrase, ‘Girls who make the first move on a guy get the relationship.’ That is a blatant lie and bullshit because it only works if the guy doesn’t care, the girl asking is conventionally pretty, or the guy already liked or was interested in the girl. You experienced so much rejection that you might as well give up on telling your feelings so as not to be seen as pathetic. You thought it would be different for Satoru because of your powerful chemistry together. But he sent many mixed signals, being flirtatious and teasing you, genuinely looking out for you simultaneously, all the while still never giving a break to dating and having a long line of girlfriends at his beak and call. It was too complicated for you. Then, with the incident, you knew you had no chance with him because it seemed he would never feel the same.

“Do you like (Y/N), Satoru?”

Satoru gave his best friend a bewildered look, his face recoiling.

“Yeah, of course, I like (Y/N), Suguru. What kind of question is that—”

“That’s not what I’m asking you, Satoru. Do you love (Y/N)? Yes or No, simple as that.”

“What are you trying to get at, Suguru?”

Suguru visibly groans at the Satoru’s density. This was annoying Suguru at this point.

“Satoru, be honest with yourself. Admit it, you’re in love with (Y/N). How you look out for her, care for her, and constantly bring her up in conversations every chance you get, the longing gaze you give her when she isn’t looking, always staring at her instead of anyone else in the room. The list goes on and on, Satoru. Stop denying it. Do you love her, or are you just saying that because you want to joke about someone’s feelings?”

Satoru’s voice was caught in his throat; he had his answer, but his body wasn’t giving him a chance to say it. It was like Suguru hitting the nail every time, making Satoru feel cornered. Suguru sighed frustratedly at the silence of his best friend, who usually would have his answers ready in the queue.

“So you never really loved (Y/N) then, Satoru.”

“What! No! I do love (Y/N), Suguru—”

“Then why the fuck do you still indulge in your playboy personality? You and I both know that won’t get you anywhere, Satoru. It’s doing you more damage than good, yet you continue feeding into it! Maybe if you gave a break from your causal flings, (Y/N) would have confessed to you, and the two of you would have been dating by now. God, You’re just a headache, Satoru…” Suguru doesn’t shout, but his sharp tone is on the edge of becoming angry.

Wait, what?

You were going to confess to him?

You like him too?

Satoru blinks owlishly while trying to process this mind-breaking information. You liked Satoru, so the feeling was mutual, right? Then why is Suguru getting mad at him for feeling the same way?

“Wait… Suguru...(Y/N) likes me too? Why didn’t she say anything in the first place? Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Because you already had a girlfriend, Satoru. (Y/N)’s not a home wrecker.”

“Yeah, okay. But I was single for two weeks! She knew that! Why didn’t she confess to me then?!”

“I don’t know, Satoru… Maybe because she was more focused on making your birthday gifts than her confession towards you. How much of her time was dedicated to making them? She was going to confess to you but decided not to.”

“When, Suguru?!”

“ . . .Your birthday. . . (Y/N) was going to give your gifts and confess on your birthday, but you decided to fuck yourself over.”

“ ‘Fuck myself over? What do you mean, Suguru?” Satoru said in a hushed but shocked whisper.

Suguru pulls out his phone, pulls up the picture you took, and shows it to Satoru. Satoru’s eyes widen like saucers, surprised by Suguru’s possession of a photograph that captured his private moment. He grabs Suguru’s phone to take a closer look before looking back up at him, face still bearing the same expression.

“Wait, that happened on my birthday. How did you take this? 

“I didn’t take it, Satoru. . .”

“Huh? Then who—”

Oh. . .Oh. . .

Oh no. . .

It all was starting to click for Satoru. Suguru looked unamused as he saw his friend’s gears moving in his head.

“Suguru, I—”

“So, do you love (Y/N), Satoru? Yes or no?”

Satoru stays silent with no motions to verbalize an answer.

“*sighs* Then tell me, Satoru. Do you love (Y/N) because she is beautiful? Or is she beautiful because you love her?”

Suguru left a defeated and devastated Satoru in the streets to be alone with his thoughts. In doing so, he hoped his friend would connect the dots himself. Satoru stood frozen in front of the KFC, finally understanding it. The distance, the consistent decline in hangouts, the short conversations, being ‘happy’ around others but never near him, how your smile droops at the mention of his name, and the solemn expression your eyes wore ever since his birthday all added up. It was all because of him. Sure, it’s both parties at play here.

On the other hand, your actions were just reactions to his own, especially when his loneliness caused him to become desperate in seeking out the attention of multiple girls he would ‘date.’ Consequently, it signaled he was looking for something casual with no strings attached, making you believe giving a confession would be useless to someone like him. But that’s far from the truth.

 He couldn’t believe he had done you dirty for so long. You were always in front of him, waiting for him this whole time. You were the one to give him warmth and fill in the void of loneliness that has plagued his soul for so long. But he never gave you a chance because he never cared to ask or consider it. He took you for granted because he knew you would always be there for him through everything and anything; you were his ride or die. Oh, how irresponsible of him that not truly appreciating your presence would lead to your eventual withdrawal.

Now he realized his love for you was real and profound as it was tiered above anything else. The way he flexed his bicep when you linked arms with him to stay close in big crowds, the stars your eyes have when talking about your favorite topic made him have this dumb love-sick look, or your smile that always filled him with love and joy when it’s directed at him, he still wanted to experience these things with you but as more as friends. And yet, he was on the verge of losing it all forever. Three years of friendship/pining would be wiped away in three weeks. All because he was scared to admit his fragile vulnerability behind his pompous attitude. He had to do something; he needed to. Or the only thing he will have of you is the memories you two created. Satoru booked it and ran through Tokyo for ideas on what to do. He didn’t care if he looked absurd. All that mattered to him was finding a way to mend things. The only thing on his mind was you.

Because he knew it was you.

It always has been you.

And he had to pull off miracles to save your relationship with him.

It was the next day; Satoru was carrying a big shopping bag around Tokyo, hoping to find you. After spending the rest of his afternoon and night finding some ideas, he made you what he dubs his ‘I’m sorry’ present, which was also your Christmas present. It contained a 15-inch plushie of (Your favorite Animal/Digimon/Pokemon/Character), a jacket you told him you wanted but was too expensive a while back, and (earrings/necklace/bracelets/rings/any sort of wearable jewelry) in your favorite color as you stared at it longingly when at the mall with the gang, Satoru always made a note of that.

Now, the hard part giving them to you in hopes of talking with him. It would have to be a  miracle to cross paths with you. Satoru couldn’t text you since you stopped responding to his attempts at communication. In a vast city being hectic in the upcoming days of the holidays, he needed all the luck he had just to spot you in the crowd. But even if he knew your schedule by heart, there was no sign of you in Tokyo. He could visit your home, but he assumes he’s an unwelcome guest since you lived with your (sibling(s)/guardian/parent(s)/loved one), and you confide in them frequently. As time never stops, he’s losing time. His precious time with you is slipping away, never to return. Both and forth, the wind chill nipped and whipped at his exposed skin. Satoru’s cheeks, nose, and knuckles were rosy as his body worked overtime to keep warm. The puffs from his mouth fogged up his glasses as he forced himself to continue searching just to have a chance to run into you.

Satoru is not religious, nor does he believe in a god. And yet, in those moments, Satoru started to pray. He was praying, begging, pleading for any divinity to hear his desperate cries to come across you. Just a chance, anything, he’ll do anything to see a wisp of (hair color) hair walking along the streets. His strides slowed; every step he took was heavy. Until they eventually came to a stop; his chest puffed in and out after wandering aimlessly along the bustling streets of Tokyo. He exhausted himself to the point that he was unaware he was in front of the school’s gates. He didn’t even notice the gates were wide open, and a familiar figure approached them along the adjacent side. His hands were on his knees, hunched over where a shadow loomed over him. Then he hears a voice so angelic and heavenly that he believes he was hallucinating at first.

“Satoru? Satoru, are you okay?”

Slowly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, seeing you are bundled up well. You wear a slightly troubled face while holding an umbrella over his head. 

“What brings you here, Satoru? I thought you had stayed home today since it was forecasted to snow.”

Once pointed out, Satoru noticed white specks falling in front of him. He stands up at full length, making you adjust your umbrella's height on him. Though his signature grin is on his glossy lips, internally, he is screaming and celebrating that his prayers have been answered. After hours of aimlessly trying to find you throughout the city, you were finally in front of him in the most ironic place. He chuckles at your gesture before gingerly taking your umbrella and hovering it above you two.

“I was going to ask you the same thing, (Y/N).” He gives a warm smile at you.

“The school left the campus and dormitories open so students could grab their things to take home. I forgot some stuff at my dorm, so I came today to get them. Would you like to accompany me, Satoru?” You said, adjusting your empty canvas tote bag on your shoulders.

With no hesitation or thinking, Satoru immediately said yes. He smiled as he walked the two of you to your dorm.  But you couldn’t help but glance down at the big shopping bag he was holding. ‘It must be a Christmas present for his girlfriend… she is so lucky.’ you thought. Not a single peep came out of you two throughout the trip to your dorm, even with no words, tension building up in the air surrounding you. Neither one of you wanted to make the first move. It was childish to continue like this. There was no bad blood between the two of you at all. But you were persistent in embarrassing yourself in front of Satoru. Before all this, you were never afraid to have banter or say the most off-the-record stuff with Satoru. But it was different when it was unrequited thoughts and feelings, as you didn’t want to further humiliate your pathetic self. Once you got to your dorm, you said you wouldn’t take long. Closing your door, Satoru leans against the back of it. He watches silently as you diligently gather your needed items and place them inside your bag. Each item is packed into your bag, and he has less time to make his move. He knows he needs to say something because he sought after you for a reason. 

Likewise, you were in the same boat. You can feel the tension blanket your body as you retrieve your things. Avoid direct eye contact with Satoru for fear of breaking your facade and folding. While trying to focus on anything that wasn’t him, your eyes kept glancing at the massive bag beside Satoru’s feet. It was a decently sized bag spaced out from the items it contained. By the looks of it, you assumed Satoru went out splurging on his latest girlfriend for Christmas.

‘Wish that was me receiving that bag. . .’ You thought to yourself as you arranged the items to avoid ruining your bag.

Satoru snapped out of his trance when the sound of your shuffling stopped. Your head slightly hung low as you stared at the bag with flat palms. You sighed with your head shaking side to side. You decided to break the silence to ease the tense air in your room.

“I didn’t know you did last-minute shopping, Satoru. Guessing how full that bag is, it’s your Christmas present to your girlfriend. You love spoiling your girlfriends with endless money to burn. Keep doing that, and you’ll go broke, dude. . . Lucky her. . .” You slipped the last part out under your breath. Your smile dropped briefly before returning, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru.

However, you remembered Satoru had excellent hearing. He could pick out of the faintest of whispers. When you realize that, you panicked and faced him. From how his brows were raised, you knew he definitely heard it. Your brain scrambled to find a way to cover the creaks in your walls from your slip-up, causing you to speak up. What you didn’t expect was Satoru doing the same.

“Sorry, Satoru, I didn’t mean that–”

“(Y/N), I need to–”

After catching each other’s words, you both abruptly stop to give space for the other to talk. Satoru gestures for you to go first. Gentleman as every. Feeling the anxiety and embarrassment weighing on you, you didn’t dare to look at him when talking, so your head focused back on your bag.

“Look, Satoru. . . I know how immature this is, but I want to apologize for the sudden change in my behavior and distance over the last few weeks. It was uncalled for, and you deserved a proper answer.–”

“No.”

“It’s because– huh?”

Prompting you to look up at Satoru, to which he had an unreadable expression. His glasses were blocking the creases of his eyes to indicate any of his emotions. A chill of uneasiness ran up your spine when you saw the serious look on Satoru’s face. He walks over to you with his hands in his pockets as he stares down, his expression unchanged.

“No, I need you to hear me out.”

Satoru cut off any chance for you to speak because he and you would be done if you did. He knew if he didn’t find you before Christmas Eve, what you two had would cease to exist. Once winter break ends and school resumes, he and you would be in two separate worlds. Ultimately becoming strangers who once knew each other. The thought of it made him nauseous and clammy to the core. You were the sun that shined in his endless cerulean sky. The moon and stars that gave illuminated his night sky. You gave light to the vast numbness he’d endured for all he could remember. You were the light he had been longing for years. And he was going to lose it all because he was a coward who didn’t have the balls to admit it and used dating as a coping mechanism to fill the hole in his heart.  So it’s now or never for him to be vulnerable to you because he feared this was his last chance.

“I know you didn’t mean to distance yourself from me at all. I know you still cared about me and didn’t want to push me away for fear of humiliating yourself. Being me, I didn’t notice at first that you were hurting until you uprooted yourself from my life, and it’s been god-awful without you. . . I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

The genuine sincerity in his eyes as they bore into yours. You noticed that. It came straight out of Satoru Gojo, not from the egotistical, pompous, popular senior, but from your best friend. So you decided to up your ears to what he has to say. When you gave him your undivided attention, Satoru knew this was it, so he spilled it out.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t really appreciated your presence. I took you for granted because I thought you would always be with me, with no chance of leaving me. That bit me in the ass once you slowly stopped being with me. But I know there’s more: the mixed signals I gave off, the playboy attitude, and the lack of self-awareness I had for myself. It was a way for me to not confront the crimpling loneliness and numbness I’ve been having. I indulge in my fangirls and causal relationships, hoping it would fix it. But it was just a temporary solution to a long-term problem. I saw the girls as a means to get my mind away from it, and the girls get to be with the famous Satoru Gojo. . . I’ve done this song and dance for so long that it was a part of my routine. . .”

“Oh, Toru. . .”

God, he missed that nickname you gave him. The way it rolls off your tongue in any tone, it’s seared into his memory and mind. When people, especially his ‘girlfriends,’ try to use that same nickname on him, it fills him with unexplainable rage. That name was for you to use on him, not them. They didn’t have a place in his heart like you do, so he always corrected them to minimize the usage of that nickname. But when you said it, it was soft and tender like the snow falling outside. He knew he was getting to you, and it was working. He relaxes as he closes his eyes, only to open them when your hand gently holds his cheek. Thumb swiping it in a comforting manner. You wanted to say something so Satoru didn’t have to do all the work. For him to admit, he took down all his walls so you could see all of him. To you, it was a privilege and honor to see such vulnerability coming from an individual who was charismatic and oozing with unspeakable rizz. So you continue to listen patiently to see what point your famous friend is making.

“But you disrupted the routine, (Y/N). . . When you came, it felt like I didn’t have to do that anymore. You made me feel free and alive. Allowing me to be my authentic self around our group or just the two of us. But most of all, you made me savor each moment I shared with Suguru, Shoko, and you. I always cherished what I had with them. I cherish what I have had with you over the time I’ve known you. I always did. Maybe that’s why the moon and stars shine brighter when I tell them about you. They know how brightly you shine in the endless sea of regular people. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to admit you already had my heart. . . And in doing so, I hurt you in ways I couldn’t have imagined. . . I am so sorry I had to make you wait so long, (Y/N).”

You hadn’t realized your tears were cascading down the curves of your cheeks. Was this really happening? Did Satoru just confess to you? You think this is all too good to be true, a scenario you conjured up to cope with hopeless romantic delusions. But his voice was full of raw fondness. His face had this lovesick expression, and his eyes bore sheer devotion as his tears were caught in his eyelashes. He really did feel the same way after all. He would’ve resumed pouring his heart and soul out if you hadn’t firmly pulled him into a tight hug.

Though caught off guard by the gesture, he warmly welcomed it as he returned the action. Tears wet his shirt as you clung to his chest. Satoru lightly kissed your head before cradling it like it was the most fragile thing in the universe. The once-thick tension disappeared, and a comforting warmth blanketed the two of you in its place. You two dared not to pull away, taking in the moment that has caused mental gymnastics for both of you. Eventually, someone had to pull away, and it would be you. You smiled so warmly at him with love-filled eyes. You wipe away Satoru’s tears that continue to fall and hit his glasses.

“. . . I love you too, Satoru. I should also apologize because I didn’t communicate my feelings to you. I was scared of how you would react to my confession. I didn’t want to lose what we had, nor did I want to pressure you into saying yes to spare me the heartache. I also didn’t know how to act when I was with you, and I feared I would look stupid. I shouldn’t have thought the only solution was to cut myself out of your life. Though these are my explanations, they don’t justify my excuses. Please forgive me, Satoru.”

“All is forgiven, Sweetheart. Will you forgive me, too?”

“Of course, Satoru. . .” 

Satoru starts to dip his head as you both smile at each other. You were going to let it happen, but a thought came across your mind as you softly stopped Satoru’s head. With a pout, Satoru would ask what was wrong before he was faced with a panicked look.

“Satoru! What about your girlfriend?!”

Satoru blankly stares at you before he starts to chuckle quietly. You were truly a kind person.

“Satoru! I’m being serious! Stop laughing!”

“Oh my dear, (Y/N). You truly have a kind and caring heart. I promise you I’m not cheating on her, nor are you homewrecking. She texted me she found someone else and ghosted me right after. I’m all yours, baby~.” 

Satoru waves his hand as he pulls out his phone to show you the proof, as you have always been skeptical of his words. Once you visibly relax, your gaze returns to the big shopping bag Satoru carried around. He already knew what you were going to ask and had an answer.

“Why don’t you take a look and open it yourself, (Y/N)? You did say the bag was my Christmas present for my girlfriend~.”

Your face heats up as Satoru retrieves your Christmas present. He holds it out, and you slowly take it from him. His grin becomes a soft smile at the reaction to the gifts in the bag. You squealed at the massively cute plushie as you gave it a happy squeeze. You gasped and were awed when you pulled out the jacket/sweater, gleefully trying it on.

“Give me a twirl, Love.” On command, you spin yourself so he can see how it captures your figure. Anything does look good on you in his eyes.

“I thought this was sold out, Toru! How did you get your hands on this?!”

“I have my ways. Now open your last gift.”

You go to open your last gift, and how your mouth was opened reassured Satoru that he was the best gift giver in the world. Fingers delicately hold up (favorite jewelry), observing the glow and reflection it gave off. It was gorgeous and unique as it had (favorite gemstone) being the main centerpiece. Only the best for you.

“Satoru, you still remember this?”

“Of course I did!”

“But that was over three months ago. . .”

“I know, (Y/N). But the way your eyes lingered on it when we went to the mall, I always noted it. Plus, I thought it suited you the best, so I had to buy it.”

“Oh, how sweet of you, Satoru. Thank you for the Christmas present. I really love them.” 

After returning your gifts to their bag, you walked to your dresser to fish something out. Satoru watches curiously as you pull out a crumpled paper bag. Satoru eyes widened as you handed the bag to him.

“ While they are Christmas gifts, they are technically your birthday gifts. I would’ve given them on your birthday but chickened out when I found out you had a girlfriend. So Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, Satoru. They may not be as good as your gifts, but it’s something, right?”

You offer a smile as Satoru opens his gifts. You giggled at his extravagant reactions, praising and adoring his Agumon bracelet that he instantly wore on his wrist proudly. He pulls out the other gift and is shocked to see the drawings of him. The frame fits in his hands as he analyzes each sketch of himself. The detail and precision that went into each told Satoru you took the time and energy to draw him. But it also made him giddy as he looked extremely handsome and good-looking in each of the drawings. It caused him to blush when he realized this was how you see him through your eyes. As he was looking at your drawing page, he noticed the frame’s stand was attached to its sides.

Turning it around, he saw another drawing on the other side. But this sketch made Satoru’s heart beat out of his chest. The page contains only one illustration of two people walking with smiles. However, those two were him and you walking, smiling at each other, and holding each other’s hands. Satoru’s silence did concern you for a bit, but it was shattered when Satoru went in steadfastly to seal the gap between your lips. Your initial shock wore off before you let him reciprocate his kiss. You can feel his soft and smooth lips; he needs to give you his lip care routine. After parting, Satoru leans his head against yours, his arms not unraveling from you. 

“No, they are wonderful gifts. Thank you, (Y/N). I love them. . . and I love you.”

“I love you too, Satoru~.”

Basking in each other’s warmth, eliminating the cold and gloomy atmosphere from outside. As much as you wanted to stay together a little longer, the campus would close soon for the rest of the break, and you must leave quickly. You didn’t want to leave Satoru yet, so you tried to extend it as much as possible.

“Hey, Satoru? Can you walk me home? The forecast said the snow will pick up tonight, and I don’t want to go home alone.” 

Satoru gives his classic grin before kissing your forehead sweetly. 

“I would love to, Sweetheart. I’ll carry your bags while you can hold the umbrella.”

The snow continues to softly fall as the two of you walk along the bustling streets of Tokyo. Although the white puff clouds appeared every time someone spoke and the tips of Satoru’s face were bright red, Satoru never paid attention to the frigid temperatures. Even in this cold white winter, he can see that your bright aura always gave a comforting warmth he yearned for. Making you stand out amongst the sea of passersby, the bright neon lights of Tokyo, and the white dots that continue to cover the city.

The light that shines and gives light to his dull Cerulean sky. Satoru’s world wasn’t grey anymore as he had finally found his light, you.

Bonus:

—A few days later—

“You think they made up, Sugs?”

“Honestly, I hope they do. If not, we’re fucked, Shoko.”

It had been a few days since Shoko and Suguru had last heard from you and Satoru. Neither has responded to your texts as often as usual, making the two nervous. Then Suguru proposed a hangout before New Year's Eve. He didn’t add it in the group chat because he was unaware of the situation. Opting to ask you two individually instead. Even though you two responded, he was unsure if the storm between you two passed over or was still raging on. 

However, his initial worries would be meaningless soon enough. As Shoko and Suguru were taking a drag at the meet-up spot, they spotted two figures approaching them. Squinting their eyes to get a better look, they recognized that it was you and Satoru. Their eyes traveled down a bit to see both your hands intertwine. The love that came from Satoru’s smile and your eyes told them everything.

Though the two smiled and high-fived each other, Suguru grinned ear to ear, which earned a frustrated sigh from Shoko. She then reaches into her coat to fish out her wallet. 

“I guess I win, Shoko. Hand over that $25 Visa gift card, please?”

[energ00n]

Ok now I can officially go on a mini nerd rant here

"Oh so I'm just invisible now?" - Jazz /j

But jokes aside, that is also very interesting to know! Orion Pax is a very bubbly person, seems to be the type that would have many friends, the one that has that shine no one else can replace, but let's look back on a few things.

Jazz, in his introduction, mentions how, "We miss you like crazy back at home" to Orion. Implying there are other bots at home who know of Orion & miss him, but are they really friends or just friendly coworkers that you wouldn't talk to outside of the mines? Now you could say Jazz is a good friend, but we don't know their actual friendship on a deeper level, all we know is that they're playful & a bit touchy, so what does Jazz know of Orion other than being his crush on the sidelines and a friend to joke around with?

We dont know much else other than that. We see how Orion & D-16's relationship grows, we all ask what is D-16's story, but what is Orion Pax's story? Does he have friends or does he believe deep down he isn't worthy of a friend? Considering he always smiles and appears to be happy, but is probably battling his own insecurities. And I might be thinking too deeply, but what if D-16's comment on calling Orion Insignificant brought back memories for Pax? Yes, Optimus admits he was hurt & said it was silly to be upset over it, but to Orion, it must've hurt more than anything, to know it came from the ONE mech he truly considers a friend.

There's just a lot to uncover with both D-16 & Orion, and I might be thinking too hard cause I am a chaotic mess craving angst, but I can't help it, lol.

This brings a smile to my face tysm

Most of the stuff I draw are timeline ambiguous so you can see it as before the time Jazz arrived. Even if it's after though, Jazz is not so heavily involved in Orion's daily life that he'd have a spot here, similar to how Elita isn't present in Dee's piece.

How I'd describe Jazz and Orion's friendship, they're good friends, Jazz was probably the one that catered to Orion's shenanigans the most, that's why Orion considers him his bestest friend. They sort of grew up together and they were a group, Orion has not met this group of friends/family since he's become an Apprentice. Jazz is here, somehow earning a talk with Nexus and claiming an Apprentice spot, because he wanted to look out for Orion. He did everything to be there for Orion.

Orion left his community behind but he's here for a reason, I want to slowly reveal everything in time. Regarding his thoughts during this time, the hurt over "Insignificant" is actually super minor to him. He's no longer hurting, he listened and he switched up his behaviour to do better by D. I've almost yet to be able to write a comic about it urghhhhhh there's so much stuff to do.

I wouldn't say Orion has any of those insecurities, he's just curious and a bit too focused on himself to notice how he makes people feel. He has trouble making friends in the new fancy place and that's why you don't see him with other people. D's not the first person he sneaked up on to say hi and you can imagine why most wouldn't appreciate that.

Worry not tho! He'll make more friends as the story goes on!