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joemama-2 · 5 months ago

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velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms, depression, manipulation wc: 5155 a/n: hi everyone! i'm so excited for this piece of work as I have a lot of exciting ideas planned in store! this will probably have slow updates, so please please please be patient with me. thank you all for reading! i'm aiming for at least 15ish chapters, maybe more or less, depends how much i write in one chapter in the future. series masterlist < next chapter

“Cash or card?”

“Card.”

The sound of light dinging follows, the transaction completed. “Here you go, Miss. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, you too.” The woman takes the small bag from your outstretched hands, giving one last smile before exiting. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying her exit. You sigh and look at the clock, one more hour. It’s not that long. But you’ve been here since opening and the shoes you’re wearing are beginning to hurt your feet. Maybe you should’ve broken them in more.

It’s a quaint little cafe. Most of the customers are teenagers, college students, or overworked office workers who need caffeine to get them through the day. Other than that, you have no qualms. Of course, it does get a little annoying having to tell the newer, much younger co-workers that they can’t do this or that.

A mundane routine of making coffees, packing orders, and ringing them up. Just one more hour.

As soon as the clock strikes 5:00, you’re clocking out and saying goodbye. The school is an exact walk of ten minutes, six if you’re fast. Then another ten back to the apartment. And finally, another fifteen to the convenience store.

Hustle and bustle is all you’ve ever known. Sure, you like it most of the time. But you just wish you could get a break. It’s always go, go, go, but never take a rest and time to yourself for a moment. But when you see that adorable smile plaster on those chubby cheeks you never shy away from pinching, it’s all worth it. “Mama!”

“Baby!” you crouch down and open your arms. The young boy wastes no time in throwing his body into yours, face nuzzled into your chest and arms around your neck. “How was school? Fun?” you ask, hand rubbing his back up and down.

He nods. “Mhm! Mr. Ito says I got the most gold stars out of everyone in class.”

Your smile grows wistful, aweing. “Wow, such a good boy, aren’t you?”

You carry Koji into your arms, starting the walk back to your very humble apartment. He chatters innocently the entire trek, with you occasionally adding on or asking questions. His soft white hair pokes at your cheek, to which you straighten down with one free hand. It’s days like these where you wish you could just lounge at home with him, basking in his sweet innocence. But while most people are ending for the day, you’re barely starting your second half.

You feel the self-deprecating thoughts fill your mind like a virus while stationed near the light, waiting for the pedestal symbol to indicate. Your grip tightens around your son slightly, as if anchoring yourself to reality and reminding yourself you’re doing it all for him, and to keep going for him.

It’s hard, yes. But so is parenting.

The symbol comes on and you walk, seeing the building of your complex in the distance. Forcing any lingering negativity away, you clear your throat. “So, what did you learn today, baby?”

Koji looks up at you. “We learned how to add! I helped Mina.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

He giggles bashfully, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek. Eyebrows raising as a sudden memory hits him. “Oh! And Mr. Ito said Dad Appreciation Day is coming up soon. There’s gonna be food and music.”

Your smile wavers, footsteps momentarily pausing before continuing. “Oh, really?” you ask, inhaling a wavy breath of air. “That sounds like fun.”

“Mhm.” Koji nods, then tilts his head curiously at you. “But everyone is bringing their daddies. I wanna bring Papa too.”

And you really try not to make your guilty grimace visible. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

“Can Papa come?” he frowns.

No, he can’t. But you’re not about to tell your five-year-old that the reason his father can’t make an appearance is because he doesn’t even know he has a son. It’s been a difficult conversation for you. You’re not sure when or how to have these sorts of hard ones with children. So you’ve been dancing around the subject. Saying his dad is away on vacation, or fighting intergalactic dragons, or some other excuse you’ve been forced to use. He believes you, most of the time. But that doesn’t stop his curiosity and growing impatience.

The last thing you want him to think is that he has no father in the first place.

He does. You’ve shown him pictures and videos occasionally. Of, and of course, he’s an exact carbon copy of the man. From his bright blue eyes, albino hair, and all the way down to his stubborn personality. You were a little annoyed when your only child took quite literally everything from his father, only leaving him with a couple of things from you–your nose and helpful nature.

“We’ll see. Papa is busy, remember?” you gently reply, walking through the parking lot of your complex to the lobby.

Koji’s frown deepens and so do the metaphorical scars on your heart. “But Papa’s always busy! I wanna see Papa.”

“I know you do, baby. You will soon, okay?”

“Do you promise?”

You hesitate but eventually nod with a forced smile. “Mama promises.”

After leaving Koji with the babysitter, you give him a quick kiss and recite the list with the babysitter before rushing off to your second job. A convenience store.

Not the most savory place, mainly because you get all sorts of crazy and odd customers, but also because you are close. You hate closing. But you need the second disposable income and this is the only place that fits with your schedule. It’s also a little more leaned back than the cafe, when there are no customers, you spend your time browsing the web for jobs.

You’ve probably sent in over 500 applications over the years, with not even half of those places reaching out. Even then, you’re not guaranteed a job. The job market is horrible nowadays and you’re living through it.

Whatever, you think to yourself as you clock in. One day at a time.

It’s around eleven at night when you're slugging back into your apartment, lights dim, and silence enveloping the place. “Thank you, Sana.” You mutter, exhausted but still sparing the 20-year-old a smile. You hand her a small envelope. “For today and last Saturday. How was he?”

Sana thanks you kindly and grabs her stuff. “All good, no tantrums today.”

“That’s good.” you walk into the kitchen, grabbing some food you’ve meal prepped. “Get home safe, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N. Sleep well.”

When she leaves, you give yourself a moment to slump over the kitchen island, sighing in both relief and lingering tiredness. The silence feels nice, like an old and familiar friend welcoming you and praising you after yet another day of the same routine. You’ve always loved routines, but you can’t help but crave at least some sort of spontaneity. Putting the tupperware of chicken and rice into the microwave for a minute, its light humming makes you zone out. The conversation from before with your son ringing in your mind like a very annoying bell.

Soon, images of his father, your ex, flood your mind. An old fluttery sensation residing in the pit of your stomach, your body suddenly feeling all too warm for your liking. Your fists clench to stop their light trembling, shaking your head free of him.

Not now.

You stop the microwave at one second, before it makes that obnoxious beeping and wakes your son. There are two chairs at the small dining table, you sit at one of them and eat your now warm meal. You’ve started meal prepping after one too many missed meals and a few incidents where that light-headedness and blurred vision caused you to faint. Luckily, you were alone when that happened. Unluckily, you were alone when that happened. Nursing a few bruises to your forehead after making contact was not a fun time.

You take time to eat, in no particular rush. Although you know you should be getting ready for bed soon for another early day tomorrow, your body doesn’t move. Either consciously or subconsciously. The end of the day is when you find yourself attempting to unwind and detach from the day’s events. But, the stress of unpaid bills, debts, and worry for the future always find time to crawl back.

It’s exhausting, extremely so. Sure, you’re an adult and this is normal. But don’t you deserve at least a little bit of time when you don’t have to worry about anything? It feels like every waking second your mind is working overtime, your body in a constant state of motion. It’s worn you down completely over the years. But you have a son who needs you, so you suppose you shouldn’t be feeling pity for yourself.

This is what parenting is all about, isn’t it?

Making sacrifice after sacrifice for your child. However, when you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper, slowly losing more of yourself, what if there’s nothing left to sacrifice in the first place? The eviction bill from this morning taunts you as it lays upright in front of you in the middle of the table.

It’s then do you think, no, you do have one thing left.

Koji.

If Koji’s gone, then you really have nothing left. There’s no reason to live if that happens. And with the path you’re going down, that’s feeling more and more like a dreaded possibility.

I wanna see Papa.

Koji’s words play repeatedly. For a second, you feel yourself resonating with your son. Only for a second. You reach for your phone and go to Google, typing in a name that still haunts you. You’re barely three letters in before his name appears and you’re clicking.

A smiling image fills your screen along with other general information.

For some unknown reason, your breath hitches. You feel like he’s almost staring at you, smiling at your pathetic predicament. Grip tightening around your phone, swallowing down an unexpecting lump, tears fall from your eyes and onto the phone screen.

Why you’re crying, you don’t know. It could be many things, but you won’t address that right now.

Gojo Satoru.

The father of your child, your ex of 4 years.

You rarely look him up, almost never. Only in desperate times when you feel yourself drowning and needing some sort of comfort. It’s stupid. You haven’t been together or even seen him in five years. Not since you ended things with him. Not since you felt his hands roam your skin, whispering sweet words.

He didn’t even protest or question why. Almost like he knew your breakup was inevitable. You’re not sure if that hurts more.

You’re twenty-eight now. But while your life still feels the same from when you met Satoru at the ripe age of nineteen, you’ve reached a plateau. But him? He’s thriving, of course. Making a name for himself, as an heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, the Gojo Group.

You’re happy for him. But where is that happiness for yourself?

You feel a little, no, a lot jealous. You always were of Satoru. Being given everything he wants without much thought, never worrying about money, and a stable home life. You’re extremely jealous of that bastard.

But right now, jealousy isn’t in the picture. It’s your son’s father. And if you want to keep your son, give him everything he wants, that starts with one person.

Letting him meet his father.

“Honey, do you like your pancakes?” you ask your son who’s currently scarfing down his plate of breakfast. Adorned in an adorable shirt uniform shirt and some little black trousers. He hums back excitedly with a muffled “yes, mama”. With a chuckle, you dry up the rest of the dishes, then your hands. Dropping him off at school is the first thing on your agenda, as per usual.

The walk to his school is a familiar one, wanting to get your son knowledgeable with the route so when the day comes that he needs to walk him himself, he’d know his way back. You pass by other kids and parents, some children yelling bye as they step onto the school grounds, with others giving their children long-lasting hugs.

You walk until you reach his door, his teacher, Mr. Ito, standing outside and greeting his students as they enter. When he makes eye contact with Koji, he smiles a bit wider. “Good morning, Koji.”

“Good morning!” your son happily replies, waving up at his teacher. With one final hug and kiss shared, he’s running in to already begin talking to his friends. Standing back up, you see Mr. Ito already looking at you. And you especially don’t miss the way his eyes not so subtly rake up and down your figure. You clear your throat. “Good morning.”

He meets your eyes again. “Good morning, Y/N-san. How are you today?”

“Good, and you?”

“Very good.”

The way his tone is almost causes you to visibly shiver, brows furrowing slightly in discomfort. One of the things you dislike the most about Koji’s school, his teacher. Although he hasn’t outwardly done or said anything inappropriate, you’re a smart woman. “That’s good. Well…have a nice day.” Doing anything you can to quickly end this dreaded conversation, but still wanting to maintain a level of politeness.

You’re about to turn on your heel and leave when he calls out. “Ah, Y/N-san?”

Damn it, what now? “Yes?” you turn and look at him.

The distance between you reduces as he steps a little closer. “I have some concerns regarding Koji’s behavior in class. Would you be available to set up a conference anytime this week?”

“Behavior? Has he been misbehaving?” You did not expect that.

“Well, it’s complicated. He has some trouble listening as talks when he shouldn’t. I’d like to nip this in the bud before it grows out of control.” Mr. Ito cooly replies, smile looking more like a hidden smirk. “So, will you be available?”

You hesitate, not really. With your two jobs, you barely have time for yourself, let alone your son’s teacher. But if it’s regarding a behavior problem, then do you have any choice? “I think I’ll be free this Saturday. Weekdays are very hectic for more.”

He nods. “That’s fine, we can grab coffee.” When your head tilts slightly, he adds on with a chuckle. “And discuss Koji over coffee. On me.”

Right, of course. You know what this is, but just think about your son. That’s the priority. “Okay, 8 am at Latte Lounge sound good?”

“Sounds excellent, I’ll see you then. Have a wonderful day.”

With a simple nod back, you turn around and finally leave. Practically feeling the way his eyes shamelessly check out your behind. A frown inevitably grows on your face, why wouldn’t it? As long as this man doesn’t try anything…more, you should be fine. And if he does, 1) you’ll be in public, and 2) you’ll tell him straight up.

Whatever.

“Pizza or teriyaki?”

“Pizza!”

“Of course.” you chuckle and put the frozen pizza in your cart, your son clutched onto your right hand after announcing he can walk on his own because he’s a big boy. The grocery store isn’t crowded during this time of day. Rightfully so. It’s 7 pm on a Tuesday, most people already cooking dinner by now. You always grocery shop at this time, your son appreciates it too. There’s been a few times when you both got quickly and very overwhelmed with the bustling nature of the grocery store on a weekend morning. Currently, you’re moving through the snack section now, picking up a few of your and Koji’s favorites.

“Mama, can I pick a cereal?” Koji asks and points to the cereal aisle next over. When you nod, he happily runs off. You still however make sure to look over at him frequently when picking up and putting down a few snacks.

You reach up to grab a pack of Hello Panda, the pink and chocolate ones, before a hand beats you to it. “Oh, I’m sorry.” As soon as you look over, you and the stranger meet eyes.

Immediately, there’s a silence that falls over you two. Eyes each blown wide in shock.

Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.

Just your luck. As soon as the stranger speaks, a strange nostalgia fills you. “Y-Y/N?”

It almost sounds weird coming from his lips. Your friend–well, ex?--friend gets out. He still looks the same, just more…manly.

“...Suguru, I–I’m… surprised to see you.” you awkwardly laugh. Reunions were never easy.

“Oh my god,” Suguru breaths out, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Well, shit. I mean, how are you? You..you look good.” His eyes move down your figure in an appreciative way.

“Thank you, I’m good. How are you? Your hair is longer.” you motion to his sea of black, healthy locks. “ ‘M a little jealous.”

He laughs with you, the sound reminding you of old times. “Yeah, been working on it. And I’m good.”

Another pause is permitted, as if you two aren’t very sure what to say to one another. Well, in all honesty, it has been five years. “Well,” he clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, you know,” you glance down at your cart. “Just some shopping.”

He also looks down, head tilting slightly. “Ah, right.” With a nod, he juts his head toward the direction of the kid’s toothpaste. “Just for one?” He laughs, joking of course.

You mentally curse yourself, putting a pack of cookies on top of the toothpaste to hide its already revealed existence. “Uh, ye—”

“Mama! I want this one!” Koji runs up to you, showcasing his desired cereal.

Well…..shit.

As if things weren’t already complicated.

With Suguru’s eyes even wider than when they were staring at you, his mouth is practically on the floor when the young boy looks at him. His sharp eyes dart across his features and…..

“I-is this—”

“Koji.” you cut him off, gulping and shifting the child closer to your leg. “My son.”

Suguru spends another good minute staring at the boy, who innocently stares back. When his eyes slowly move from the blue ones to yours, there are a million and more questions swirling in his brain. He’s not even sure which one to ask first. But he goes with the obvious. “...Is….is he…..”

You nod uncomfortably.

He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, hand running through his hair. “Holy shit, I mean….holy heck.”

Your lips purse, putting Koji’s cereal in your cart before picking him up in your arms. “Koji, this is Suguru. Say hi.”

“Hi.” Koji childishly smiles at the older man. “Are you Mama’s friend?”

Suguru spares you a glance. “Uhm…yeah. Yeah, kid, I am. Nice to meet you.” He then shifts weirdly, not sure if he should shake the boy’s hand, which seems too formal. He decides to gently ruffle his hair. “So…how old is he?”

The question is directed towards you, but Koji answers. “I’m five!” He holds up five small fingers.

“Five?” Suguru’s brows furrow at you. It’s surprising how quickly you recognize that scolding look of his. “Have you—”

“No.” you once again cut him off, shifting Koji to your hip. “I haven’t.”

“Why?”

That’s a good question. One you know the answer to…slightly. But with Koji looking between you two curiously, you can’t exactly say why. At least not here. “I….I just…haven’t.”

Silence.

You can feel Suguru regarding you with many emotions, but the main one is confusion. He bites his lip as he thinks over how to react properly to this situation. From the looks of it, Koji is just as clueless as him, maybe even more. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what to say right now.” Heavily sighing, he looks back at Koji, then you, then Koji, then finally you. “You’re going to…right? I mean, he deserves to know, Y/N. You’ve just–I mean, come on.”

There’s not much of a response to that, much to his expectation. You always used to do this when you were guilty. But Suguru has always been the more… empathetic of the two. “Look, I–I know you’re probably going through your own things, but…”

You look at him again, remorseful. His lips purse and with a heavy sigh, he takes a card out from his pocket and hands it to you. “Here’s my business card, it has my number. We lost your old one, so.”

Your hand reaches out to take it, examining the words, Rising Futures Foundation. "Building futures, one child at a time.” You meet his eyes again, forcing words out. “Okay…thanks.”

“No need,” he waves you off, taking down the two Hello Panda boxes and putting them in your cart. “I’m sorry, I have things to do right now, but please…give me a call, okay?”

With slight hesitation, you nod. He mirrors you before focusing on the child again, a smile forming. “See you, buddy.” Suguru pats his shoulder lightly before walking away and away from your vision.

Your mind is being overrun, body feeling stiff and stuck, unsure of how to process what the fuck just happened. No doubt he’s about to tell his best friend. Then said best friend will find you and Koji. Then maybe he’ll try taking you to court for hiding his son for five years. You’ll obviously lose because you have no lawyer and Satoru has the best. Your son, your one and only, your sole happiness will be taken away from you and you’ll be left alone to rot in angui–

“Mama?” Koji’s small hand is put to your cheek, stirring you from your mild comatose state. “Are you okay? You have tears in your eyes.”

“What?” Raising your hand to your eye and sure enough, you are letting loose some tears. “No, no, Mama’s okay. I’m not crying, just…just tired.”

But with growing age, so is his perception. “Are you sure? Did your friend make you cry? I don’t like him then.”

Oh, how sweet. You smile, head tilting. “No, baby. Don’t say that, okay? Mama’s fine. I promise. See? I’m smiling. Wanna smile with me?”

Like clockwork, he follows your emotions and smiles, giggling. “Yeah, I wanna smile with you. I like smiling with you, Mama.”

“And I like it when you smile with me too.”

Maybe, this isn’t too bad. You were just thinking that you want Koji to finally meet his dad. So, this is good. This ensures a meeting. But, it also ensures a deep-rooted, most likely bad confrontation that will take place between you two. Why wouldn’t it? At least you’ll be able to prepare yourself now, mentally.

You can imagine the harsh words he might say. The raised voices and brutal questions about how you can do this to him and so on. In hindsight, you deserve it. What kind of woman does do this to a man? Children are supposed to be bundles of joy, not hidden secrets. Of course, there’s the lingering worries of what legal action Satoru, or his family, might try to take.

That would quite literally fuck you over so hard.

But…maybe Satoru will go easy on you because of your past. You really don’t know. This situation is messy as fuck and it’s mostly—a lot—because of you. You have no one to blame but yourself. Hopefully, he’ll take pity on you, even though you hate when others pity you. It’s different when it comes to him, the father of your son. It always has been and it probably always will be.

Honestly, you’re a little relieved that you ran into the best friend of the man than the man himself. Now that would’ve been bad.

The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixed with heavy grunts and airy moans. The headboard repeatedly hitting the wall plays like a drum, the lights dim and the view of the dark city landscape is exposed. Satoru’s gripping the woman’s hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in her fair skin. Her constant mewls sound heavenly in his ears. “God, you feel so….good…”

“S-satoru!”

“Yeah, say my name. Just like that, baby.”

He presses a firm hand down on the small of her back to keep her arch in place, feeling his release invade her warm walls, filling her with a lovely warmth. She clenches around him, moaning out once more as she finishes with him.

He collapses against her back, his heavy breaths tingling her ear. “Baby, that was…so good…” she croaks out.

Satoru’s mind is fuzzy, vision blurring slightly. He hums in response and leans back up to pull out, discarding the heavy condom with his load into the trashcan beside the bed. “Stay.” With a small pat to her hip, he’s forcing his limbs out of bed and to the connecting bathroom to grab a warm rag. Aftercare. Although most of the time, he really can’t be bothered to do something like this. Cleaning her up feels like a chore sometimes, but the last time he voiced that opinion, it led to a huge argument between the two.

In just a few minutes, they’re both cleaned and changed. Wearing his sweats low on his hips while she indulges in just one of his oversized shirts. Another small pet peeve he has. And another thing he must keep his mouth shut about. “What time do you have to go into the office tomorrow?” Himari asks, snuggled up against his chest, dainty fingers tracing circles along the firm muscles.

“Same time as always,” he sighs, grabbing the TV remote and putting a random show on. “You know that.”

“I know, but…can’t you just call off tomorrow? Please? I wanna spend the day with you.”

When he looks back down at her, she’s frowning. A small tug is pulled at his heart and before he knows it, he’s pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Can’t, baby. Maybe this weekend?”

Satoru can feel her ready to protest again, but the sound of the front door downstairs being opened and closed interrupts the moment. Followed by the familiar voice of his friend. “Satoru! You here?”

Satoru’s brows furrow slightly. A small grunt falls from his lips as he maneuvers Himari off his chest, standing up and walking out. He looks down the staircase and sees Suguru staring up at him. “What do you want? I’m sorta busy.” Himari comes out and hugs his waist, proof of his so-called “busyness”.

Suguru holds back an eye roll when the woman gives him a look, focusing on his best friend. “Need to talk to you. Privately.”

“For what?”

“It’s important.”

“So just say it now.”

“Damn it, Satoru. Just come down and kick your friend out.”

“Girlfriend.” Himari corrects with a scowl.

“Yeah, sure.” Suguru waves her off and motions for Satoru to come down as he walks into the man’s kitchen.

Sighing with his eyes closed, he turns to Himari. “Sorry, babe. My driver’ll give you a ride back.”

Once again, she frowns. “But I—”

“Please.”

His bottom lip pokes out in a small, but convincing pout. “I’ll see you later, mkay?” Satoru reaches his thumb out and brushes it along her cheekbone, which he knows she’s weak for. Confliction and hesitation dance in her eyes but she concedes. Gathering her purse and shows, she gives Satoru a dramatic kiss on the lips before leaving.

“Finally,” Suguru huffs from the kitchen, swirling a glass of whiskey. “I thought you guys broke up.”

“It was a break.” Satoru grumbles, walking over to stand across from his friend, snatching the glass out his hand and sipping. “Anyway, what’s so important you come unannounced for and demand my sweet company to leave?”

“That woman is not sweet.”

Satoru smiles and shrugs, “She tastes it.”

A groan is heard from Suguru, eyes rolling before he shakes his head. “Look, you should sit down.”

“That good, huh?” he plops down in the nearby chair and leans back, arm resting against the back of it. He nods. “Alright, shoot, baby.”

Suguru takes in a deep breath and steels himself for the more than likely hard conversation. A part of him feels like he’s intruding, like it’s not his place to reveal such a thing to him. But at the end of the day, it’s his best friend. And you, well…he’s not exactly sure if you’re still friends or not. “What I tell you might sound crazy, but I need you to promise you’ll stay calm until I’m done speaking, got it?”

Satoru’s brows raise in mild astonishment, seeing Suguru get all serious like this is quite amusing. “Okay, I promise.” He shrugs again. “Can’t be that bad, right? No one’s hurt.”

Not yet, Suguru says to himself. He claps his hands together, mulling over how exactly to break the news. “So, I came across an old friend today.”

“Oh yeah? She cute?” Satoru swirls the alcohol in his glass.

Suguru holds back another eye roll. “Yeah, she is.”

“Nice, man.” the white-haired man chuckles, head tilting. “So what, did she make a move on you or something? Now that’s crazy.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m actually quite favorable amongst women.”

“Are you now?”

“Listen, you ass. No talking, just listening.” When he doesn’t get a response back, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Anyway, I saw an old friend. And…she had a kid with her.” Satoru nods slowly, already getting lost on his this information is even remotely crazy, or relevant to him. But he stays shut, deciding not to face another one of Suguru’s mini-lectures. One more deep breath is let out from Suguru and he gets to the point. “It was Y/N, she has a kid.”

A small beat of silence follows as Suguru gauges his best friend’s reaction. He doesn’t look like he’s flipping out, but he doesn’t show much emotion either. Confusing Suguru, he waits for the inevitable lash out.

“Who?” Satoru ends up asking.

His best friend knits his brows, trying to see if the other man is serious or not. When his expression doesn’t change, he replies. “Y/N…” he speaks slowly. “...your ex?”

Still, no emotion. But his grip on the glass does tighten. “And she has a kid.” Suguru reiterates, almost in nervousness now.

“Satoru….the kid looks exactly like you.”

a/n: thank you guys for reading!!! Sorry if this chapter was a little short, i’ll try to make the next ones a little more longer. But writing super huge chapters isn’t my forte. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter 2 :)

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guppybibi · 6 months ago

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Simon is a stealthy man, obviously—it's required for his job. Though the fact isn't quite true when it comes to proposals. You could clearly tell what he had in store for you the moment he coincidentally didn't have any work to do when the weather was just right and when he suggested that it was the perfect time of year to propose relax and go on vacation to anywhere you'd like.

Of course, you play along obliviously and decide to go to a tropical place that you've been eyeing for a while now. Simon wasn't complaining about your choice either, a chance to watch the sunset together and see you in a cute swimsuit? Sign him up!

So he books you two a tropical getaway, and insists that you should use his card to go shopping for a nice little dress, yeah? What's your ring size too, love? For future reference..nothing else.

The trip so far has been nothing but perfect, the plane surprisingly had enough leg space so Simon was comfortable the whole time. No turbulence either, it was like God was on Simon's side this time.

When you two arrive at your destination, the fresh breeze gladly greets you and the sun's heat is making beads of sweat form on your forehead already. It seemed like the heat had the same effect on Simon as well, although he was sweating more profusely than you for some reason..He'd never tell but he was insanely nervous right now, it felt like his guts were being turned inside out over and over again.

Everything does go smoothly, you two arrive at the hotel he reserved, quickly changing into your swimsuits since you couldn't wait to go out there and take a stroll around the beach. Maybe collect some seashells as a souvenir, build sandcastles or get a tan, do whatever you want, princess. Simon's going to be right beside you the whole time, glaring sharp daggers at anyone who even dares to look at you in the wrong way. Was it too much and completely unnecessary? Maybe, but you could never be too safe in these times. Creeps were always everywhere, casually walking around in broad daylight, hidden in plain sight.

Every single thing you wanted to do or get, was done and bought. You had to say, you were pretty surprised when Simon wasn't making any sarcastic comments about how he wasn't a money dispenser. Not even batting an eye when you got something from a clear tourist scam, weird. But hey, you're really in no place to complain here. Plus, money comes back, but the memories you and Simon will make here won't.

Hand in hand, step by step, you and Simon walk by the shore, your eyes full of adoration as you tried tracing the glow of the sun's light on Simon's face. You couldn't tell what was more breathtaking, the landscape or the man in front of you? The sun was bound to set soon, though it never really rests, you couldn't even imagine being the sun, working nonstop with no breaks is a big no no.

Quite ironic since in Simon's eyes, you were technically his sun. You were the center of his world, everything was peaceful when he was around you. Unlike when he's in the military, it always feels like he's out of orbit.

He has to do it, his heart can't contain it anymore. He has to propose, he's going to propose. Right here, right now. It was the perfect moment, the sunset peering, maybe a few folks watching but Simon couldn't give a damn about them. This was about you.

"Love," he calls out, stuffing his hand into his pocket to get the ring box. You snap back to reality, tilting your head in acknowledgement. You were taken aback by the sight of him kneeling on one knee, holding out a box with a shiny ring inside that you were barely able to hear the words, "Will you marry me?".

Without hesitation, you scream out "Yes!" at the top of your lungs, leaving Simon chuckling, still not getting up. "Wait up, luv. I prepared a message for you, mind if I tell you it first?" You were still jumping around the place, looking like you were about to bounce off to outer space. Once you manage to collect your excitement, you nodded, preparing yourself to hear Simon's message to you.

It was all about how you were the light of his life, all of that. It was short and sweet, not unnecessarily long but truly from the heart.

It's safe to say that the both of you went home from that trip with a big grin on your faces.

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nikkento-writes · 9 months ago

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Babysitter - Part 2

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.8k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), explicit language, cheating, pregnancy, smut – PIV sex (doggy style)

Summary: You deal with the aftermath of your summer babysitting job turned adulterous summer scandal.

Author’s Notes: Thanks for all the kind words and support on Part 1 of this! I hope you enjoy part 2, and who knows, maybe I'll write a part 3 one day lol. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

Taglist: @scorpiosugar @diegojeanne @f4irygard3n @cvixmei @soniiyi - more tags in the comments

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You blink away the tears in your eyes, holding the pregnancy test, hoping that somehow, you’ll blink away the second line indicating that you are indeed pregnant.

“No way.” Chiyo waits for you outside the stall, the apprehension in her voice apparent.

“Yes. I’m…” There’s a lump in your throat you have to swallow before you finish your sentence. “Pregnant.”

Your best friend’s silence on the other side only makes you panic more, but you don’t blame her. What can she really say to make any of this better? To stop your world from turning upside down?

She whispers your name quietly, at a complete loss for words. Then, she clears her throat, sounding as if she’s fighting tears herself. “I’m going to buy you a melon pan. Just…wait for me here, okay?” It’s the only consolation she can offer you in this moment, huddled in a public restroom of a convenience store; you appreciate the effort, nonetheless. You wait for her to leave, completely alone now. As soon as she’s gone, you sob into your hands.

It's not that you oppose being a mother. You’ve always imagined handing a positive pregnancy test to the love of your life with the biggest smile on your face, excited to raise a family together. Ideally, this would have happened sometime in the future, once you’ve established yourself as a full-fledged adult. Not like this: twenty-one years-old, less than a year until graduation without the slightest clue what you’re doing with your life. Worst of all, the father isn’t your husband, a boyfriend, even a friend. It’s Toji Fushiguro, the dad of the little boy you babysat over the summer, the husband of the kind woman who hired you. You still haven’t forgiven yourself for your adultery, the guilt eating away at you since the start of that lecherous summer fling. And now, you have this pee-on-a-stick to remind you how incredibly reckless you were to get involved with him in the first place. How undeniably irresponsible you were to have unprotected sex with a married man. Sure, it was the best sex you’ll probably ever have in your life. But was it worth it?

You wrap the pregnancy test in toilet paper, tossing it in the trash bin. Knowing that no good will come out of sulking in the 7-11 bathroom any longer, you finally exit the stall, washing your hands clean at the sink. Your phone vibrates in your back pocket as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, fixated on your belly, wondering what it will look like round and full of life. It buzzes again, snapping you out of your trance. When you check to see who’s messaging, you almost drop your phone out of shock.

Somehow, someway, the universe has it out for you. Because in the most perfectly disastrous timing ever, Mrs. Fushiguro decides to contact you.

~~~

A week later, you’re sitting on the train, heading to the Fushiguro household. Your stomach is in knots, both from anxiety and from the morning sickness. Sweat beads on your forehead, skin sticky against your clothing in this hot weather. The closer you approach your destined stop, the more and more nervous you get, almost convinced to call the whole thing off.

Believe it or not, Mrs. Fushiguro did not contact you to confront you about the dirty deeds you did with her husband. Instead, she messaged you in dire need of a babysitter once again. She spares you the details, asking if you could meet her in person to better explain herself. And for whatever reason, you agree.

You haven’t come up with a solid plan yet on what you want to do about your little predicament. So far, the only people that know are Chiyo and your parents, who, after the initial shock of it all, have been surprisingly supportive. They advised you to take the rest of the term off, which you were able to get arranged quickly through your school. This gives you several weeks to decide what you need to do. With one issue resolved, it leaves you with the next, and the most pressing: whether or not you should tell the father. The last thing you want is to break apart the Fushiguro family. You’re fully prepared to raise this baby as a single mother, which, with the help of your parents and best friend, seems doable. Besides, you’re not even sure if you want Toji to be involved considering his complete lack of interest in his other child, Megumi. Despite that, you believe that as the father, he has the right to know. Can you gather the courage to actually tell him?

Still lost in your train of thought, you hop off to walk to the house. When you arrive, you spot Mrs. Fushiguro already outside, leaning against her car in the driveway with little Megumi in her arms. They both smile upon seeing you, warming your heart. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever is to come.

“Hello Mrs. Fushiguro,” you greet her, bowing politely, too shy to meet her gaze. “How are you?”

“Doing really well. Thank you for coming on such short notice.” She lets her son down, who steps towards you until he’s hugging your knee, cooing. “I wanted to talk to you in person about my complicated situation.”

“Is everything alright?” you ask, unable to resist kneeling down to meet Megumi at eye level, making funny faces at him.

She giggles. “Oh, everything is great! The divorce finally went through and I’m living with my new boyfriend now, who’s been the absolute best, especially with Megumi.”

You make a shocked expression, mouth agape, exaggerated for the kid’s entertainment, though you’re pretty much stunned yourself. “Divorce…?”

“Yeah! Toji and I have been separated for a long time now. I’m sorry I didn’t mention that over the summer. You’re still so young after all, no need to rope you into adult things.”

You almost bust out laughing at the irony, but you hold your tongue, continuing to listen to her.

She sighs, flipping her long, beautiful hair behind her shoulders. “That being said, I still care about the guy. I mean, he is the father of my child. Without me or Megumi there on a regular basis, the whole house has gone to shit. It seems like he’s actually taking this divorce pretty hard. So, I want to hire you as a babysitter for my ex-husband. Just for a little while until he can get back up on his feet.”

Another shocked face, which makes Megumi laugh while dread sinks into your chest. “Babysitter…?”

“Babysitter, housekeeper, whatever you want to call it. You did such a wonderful job with him over the summer, even while you were taking care of Megumi! I don’t know what you were feeding him. Whatever it was, he was definitely a little bit nicer when you were around.”

Lewd flashbacks replay in your mind of Toji eating you out sloppily, slurping up all your pussy juices in every room of the house. You focus on the ground, too ashamed to look at her. “Mrs. Fushiguro, I don’t know if I can do this.”

She squats to your level, reaching for your hand, holding it gently in hers. “I know this is a lot of ask. You’re the only one I can rely on for this. Please.”

A sense of déjà vu hits you. There’s desperation in her tone and it tugs at your heartstrings the same way it did when you first met her a few months ago. It doesn’t help that Megumi is now squeezing the index finger of your other hand, eyes full of curious wonder, grip surprisingly strong for such a young child. Would she be pleading with you like this if she knew the truth about you, Toji, and the baby? Even though they were separated during this whole ordeal, it doesn’t make what you did any better; you still decided to do it regardless of their marital status.

Maybe you can use this opportunity as a way to atone.

You finally look at her, giving the most convincing smile you can muster, trying your best to ignore the wave of nausea washing over you. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

~~~

Mrs. Fushiguro asks you to start at noon the following day, giving her enough time to notify her ex about your temporary employment. When you use the set of keys she gave you to open the front door, you step inside cautiously, not sure what to expect. You’ve been dreading this impromptu reunion all night, wondering if you could even face him.

It’s a mess inside, heaps of dirty laundry scattered all over the furniture, fast food wrappers and empty ramen bowls littered on the kitchen counter. There’s a stench lingering in the stale air in here and you almost think the worse, but Mrs. Fushiguro had warned you about this. Seeing it in person is more heartbreaking than disgusting. Toji really is taking this divorce hard. It wouldn’t be right to burden him with more life-changing news, right?

You begin by gathering all the trash into garbage bags, flattening any cardboard to recycle. By the looks of it, he’s been living off junk food and protein bars for the past month. The refrigerator is near empty, aside from a questionable take-out container in the very back, which you end up dumping along with everything else. You make it your next task to get groceries after you load the washing machine.

When you return from the store, Toji remains absent. Nerves prevent you from leaning against the bedroom door to listen for any signs of him in there. His ex-wife mentioned that he goes out to gamble at the horse races whenever he’s short on cash, so it’s likely he’s there. Still, you’re anticipating his return, mentally preparing yourself for how you’ll behave around him. Given your current circumstances, you are serious about turning over a new leaf. No more funny business with him. Absolutely not.

It’s near dinnertime now and you’ve miraculously accomplished tidying the house and doing his laundry all within a few hours. You even managed to cook soup for dinner, full of hearty beef and fresh vegetables, something to provide nutrients compared to the processed food he’s been consuming lately. You’re stirring the pot when you hear keys jingle from outside the front door. He comes in, clad in a tight-fitting black shirt that accentuates his muscles and grey sweatpants that don't leave much to the imagination. A plastic bag is slung behind his shoulder, clearly from a convenience store. Despite his concerning diet, his physique is still impressive as ever. Just one glance at him has you fluttering below your belly, replaying the erotic memories you share together. You turn to face him, standing up straight, feigning confidence while you fret internally. He looks at you, brow raised slightly, a small smirk forming on his lips.

“Hello sir,” you greet him, bowing politely. Acting as if he’s a total stranger and not the man who rocked your entire world over the summer, now with evidence to prove it.

He sets the bag on the counter, revealing a couple of ramen packets inside. “What’s with the formalities?” he asks, grinning. “If I remember correctly, you were screaming my name nonstop the last time you were here.”

Heat rushes into your cheeks instantly, not surprised by his vulgarity, though still embarrassed. You clear your throat, trying to stay strong. “I’m here to work. Nothing else.”

He walks towards you, his stature casting a daunting shadow as he steps closer and closer, towering over you. His voice is low, borderline threatening to a point that has you trembling. “So you don’t want me to fuck you anymore?”

You swallow hard, composure wavering. “That’s right.” Even you don’t fully believe it when it comes out of your own mouth, how can you expect him to?

There’s a strange look in his eyes, almost like he’s disappointed by your response. He turns his back to you, mumbling something about taking a shower. You watch him enter his bedroom, hearing him clear as day before he shuts the door with a dull thud. “I guess you don’t want me either.”

~~~

A week into being Toji’s live-in housekeeper, the two of you figure out a routine together that involves minimal interaction. You wake up in the morning to cook breakfast, eating it quickly and leaving the rest for him while you go out. You use this time to go for a walk, meet with Chiyo or your parents, do some grocery shopping, or just sit at the nearby park, enjoying the sun with your baby, who grows little-by-little each day.

Toji is usually gone the whole afternoon, either working out or gambling, so you’re able to do chores back at the house, like cleaning his room. He doesn’t return until dinnertime when tension seems to be at its highest. A big reason for that is because he’s made it a habit to eat right after his shower, shirtless and with his legs crossed on the floor, displaying a perfectly visible outline of his manhood. It’s distracting, to say the least. Chiyo mentioned the other day how you can have an increased libido during the first trimester. That’s definitely proving itself now.

Aside from the half-nakedness, something else surprises you about him. The two of you mostly avoid conversation with each other, eating in silence at the dining table while sneaking furtive glances whenever you get a chance. But he never fails to mutter, “Thank you for the meal,” before washing the dishes at the sink, retreating back into his room when he’s done. It’s the tiniest act of consideration that makes you wonder what’s going on in his head.

Tonight you sit across from each other as usual. You just finished eating the chicken katsu you made for dinner, along with a couple of side dishes you prepped earlier in the week. His abs look especially spectacular today and you find it harder than usual to stop peeking at them.

“You’re gonna burn a hole through me with the way you’re staring,” he says, chewing his last bite.

Shit, caught red-handed. You quickly look down at your empty bowl, mumbling an apology. “Sorry. I just…I can tell your hard work is paying off.”

“Yours too. The house has never been cleaner. And the food has never been better.” He’s looking directly at you, a genuine smile on his face. “Thank you.”

It’s no good. Your hormones are raging, sexual desire courses through you, all from that stupidly handsome grin and a silly little compliment. How did you ever think you could resist him?

You stand up, grabbing everything from the table. “I’ll do the dishes,” you offer, walking them to the sink, trying to calm down.

It’s no use, though. He sees right through you.

He gives you only a minute alone before he follows you, caging you between his big arms, your back to him, his mouth hot on your ear. “Let me help you.”

You let out a frustrated huff, already unraveling from his proximity. The smallest jut of your hips and there it is, his erection pressed to your ass, throbbing and even more massive than you remember it. “Toji, we can’t,” you whine, not making any attempt to separate yourself from him.

He slides his hands around your hips, pulling you in closer, rubbing his rock-hard cock against you. “I know you want it. I know you want me.”

And he’s right. You do. You want him with you, around you, inside of you. In all the ways he’s had you before, in new ways he’s never had but you’ve fantasized about. There’s no denying it anymore. You want him. You want him so fucking bad.

He takes you right there at the kitchen sink, bent over with your grip tight on the edge of the counter, pounding away at your wet, needy cunt. Neither of you bother to remove your clothes completely, Toji’s sweatpants shrugged down his thighs just enough, yours pooled around your ankles, soaked panties at your knees. “Fuck, Toji!” you moan, sticking your ass out to meet his thrusts.

His fingers find your clit, rubbing slippery circles around it. “Say it,” he grunts, increasing the pace.

Drools leaks out from the sides of your lips, too fucked out to process what’s he’s asking you. “What?”

“Say you want me,” he demands, massaging your swollen bud so deep, you feel it all the way down to your fucking toes.

“I want you. I want you, Toji!” you respond breathlessly, squeezing him tight with your orgasm.

“Fuck, I missed you. Missed my good girl.” He continues to fuck you, slowly now, relishing every second of being inside you. “Always so fucking creamy for me, fuck.” He pulls you up to embrace you from behind, fingers still pleasuring you, his other hand at your chin to face you towards him. The two of you kiss passionately, lips smacking, tongues swirling. So sloppy and wanton that it puts you on the verge of another orgasm, completely succumbed to pleasure.

You sleep with him in his bedroom after several more orgasms and a big one of his own, wrapped comfortably in his arms, with his cock and creampie inside you the rest of the night. For the first time in a while, you’re oddly at peace.

~~~

Your reckless decision making has led you into another troublesome scenario. Fortunately, you haven’t had any morning sickness the entire first week of your employment at the Fushiguro household. Unfortunately, it decides to come back today. There’s no way you’ll be able to make it to the bathroom near your room, so you have no choice but to hop out of Toji’s bed and run into his, clutching onto the porcelain bowl until it’s all out. You rinse your mouth off at the sink, hoping Toji didn’t hear any of it. But you know all too well by now that luck is never on your side.

He’s sitting up against the headboard, watching you come out of the bathroom. “Did you just puke in there?” There’s a hint of concern in his normally blunt tone.

You nod, bending down to retrieve your underwear and pants off the floor, avoiding his gaze.

“Are you sick?” he asks, the worry even more obvious now.

Shaking your head, you respond, “No, I just…I’m feeling a little nauseous, that’s all.” You walk towards the door, still not willing to look at him. “There should be leftovers in the fridge, so help yourself to breakfast. I’m going to lay down.”

He calls out your name. “Wait – ”

You ignore him, closing the door shut behind you, letting the tears fall down your cheeks as you retreat into your own bedroom, muffling your sobs into a pillow. After your wild romp last night, this bout of morning sickness has swiftly brought you back to reality. You’re still harboring the secret growing in your womb from the man who gave it to you to begin with.

There’s a firm knock on your door, startling you. “Hey, it’s me.”

In this split-second, you decide to stop with the lies and finally tell the truth. You open the door, Toji standing in front of you fully clothed in his usual attire, a serious expression on his face. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Eyes still puffy from crying, you take a deep breath. “I’m pregnant. And you’re the father.”

His mouth parts the slightest bit, no words coming out of it. The silence seems to linger on forever. You fill it by rambling all the thoughts that have been swimming in your head the last couple of weeks. “Before you start freaking out or anything, I’m telling you so that you know. I don’t expect you to be involved. I’m perfectly willing to raise this child on my own. And besides, I won’t be completely alone. I have my family to help me, my friends too. I’ll be totally fine. This baby is going to be well taken care of, I’ll make sure of it. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just didn’t know how. But I feel better already because this has been stressing me out. It’s all going to work out okay? I think. I hope.”

After the long spiel, he stares down at the floor, jaw tight, mouth opening and closing, unsure how to respond. Eventually, he says, “I have to go.”

When he leaves the house, you crawl into your bed, bawling until there are no tears left for you to cry.

~~~

You wake up in the late afternoon to an enticing aroma wafting from the kitchen. It’s been hours since you’ve been in bed, moping about how poorly everything went with Toji. His reaction left you devastated. While you always expected to do this alone, hearing his negative response to it hurts more than you anticipated it to.

Curious, you make your way into the kitchen, shocked to find Toji standing over the stove, stirring a pot, the soothing scent of soup surrounding you. “What’s going on?” you ask, noticing a plethora of fresh vegetables laid out on the counter, along with a big bottle of prenatal vitamins and various snacks.

He turns the heat off, covering the pot with a lid. “I’m cooking,” he answers, facing you with a grin on his face. “Bone broth is a good source of calcium. And you need to keep eating lots of veggies so our baby is strong, like me. No more of this instant ramen shit.”

“I thought you were upset,” you say, stepping closer to him.

“I know. I’m sorry I left like that. I was shocked at first, I’ll admit it. But I started to get excited." He takes your hands in his. "I have a lot of regrets in my life, but being a father isn’t one of them. Being a bad father is. I want to change. I need to change. For Megumi. For our new little one. For you.”

Strangely enough, you believe in his heartfelt declaration. You smile at him, letting him go to stand in front of the stove, taking a whiff of the comforting aroma of the hot soup he made for you, happy tears welling in your eyes. He hugs you gently from behind, nuzzling his nose to you. “I’m going to do it right this time, okay? I know I can do it with you.”

As Toji caresses your belly, kissing you softly along the neck, you feel the weight that’s been heavy on your shoulders ease up. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

#toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk smut #cw pregnancy

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hanibalistic · 3 months ago

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THE HAPPIEST | HAN JISUNG.

genre | fluff, angst, romance / soulmate au, strangers to lovers au

synopsis | when you found out jisung was your soulmate, you made the difficult decision to lie to him about it.

word count | 19.2k+

warning | none

note | i've been really into sprite lately!

It took you a moment to register Jisung's face and another moment to process what he had just uttered out of his mouth.

"Tell me, baby, you're the happiest when you're with me, right?"

The line that the universe had etched under your forearm, the words that your soulmate would say to you for the very first time, the very words you had carved so deep into your head because you wanted to make sure you would recognize them whenever and wherever they were spoken.

The night your soul mark appeared was the day you promised yourself that you would vengefully kick your soulmate's ass. Except you didn’t end up kicking anyone in their behind.

For one, you were in the school cafeteria, and you were not beyond following the rules and regulations enforced by the system. If a revolution was to happen, you should be the last person anybody calls for aid.

For two, you weren't actually very strong, so you doubted your vengeance could be adequately expressed. Unfortunately, issues regarding grudges should always be dealt with a 'go big or go home' mindset, and you should go home.

For three, the boy who said it to you, your supposed soulmate, was Han Jisung.

You had gone as far as to turn around to make sure no one else was sitting anywhere within a five-centimeter radius of you. It was a plausible mistake. Putting one soul mark on two people? It shouldn't be a mistake. Not many people start their conversation with, "Tell me, baby, you're the happiest when you're with me, right?"

"This can't be," you muttered grimly when you realized your thoughts were illogical. You were alone in the cafeteria.

You always sat alone in the corner with a homemade sandwich, a carton of apple juice, and a store-bought pudding on the food tray. It wasn't pitiful.

You enjoy eating alone; you do it at home, and you do it at restaurants. The only reason it felt awkward at school was the lack of entertainment from a small screen, forcing you to focus only on chewing and looking thoughtful.

Perhaps that was the reason why Jisung thought you were approachable. You weren’t occupied enough. Some students were reading books, others were cramming their next tests, and most of them were in a circle chatting with their friends. You were the only person who was just eating.

That wasn't the current issue, though. You sat alone, which meant he was talking to you, given that direct eye contact wasn't proof enough that he was.

Han Jisung, who is multi-talented, not too academically excellent, not really athletic but light enough to be fast, has a wide smile, a voice so soulful, and a heart so pure, is undoubtedly your soulmate.

You weren't sure how you felt about that. You weren't sure how you felt about him.

A mixture of emotions and thoughts flashed before your eyes the moment you turned your head to face him. It was almost like a defense mechanism; you didn't want to see him, so your brain conjured thoughts to cover your eyes.

The way he smirked at you made your cheeks heat up more than you wanted them to. What was there not to like about him? He was handsome, hilarious, and, from what you've heard, had a very tender heart.

For a moment, you felt a congratulatory spark, a sense of pride that your soulmate was someone so brilliant.

Immediately after, you thought about yourself. Dull, indecisive, and lost.

You wanted to do so many things at once that you ended up never doing anything, let alone anything groundbreaking.

You were the type of people stuck in a cubicle box when you grew up or stuck riding the same train home every day. You were the type of person who would definitely be able to go somewhere in the future, just nowhere exciting.

Soulmates were supposed to be compatible and similar. Brilliant people stick with brilliant people; intelligent people talk to other smart people; attractive people group with attractive people. They look good with each other, and they elevate each other to be better than before.

You weren't necessarily self-deprecating, but you were realistic about the situation. You simply weren't the type to pretend to be someone you weren't, and a person like Jisung was someone you could never be.

You sighed. You did know how you felt about him and his identity as your soulmate: you didn't appreciate it. You were happy to know that he was your soulmate, but you decided to keep that to yourself for both of your sake. Jisung doesn't have to know about that.

The story of the swan and the hermit, except you were the knowing frog, and he was the unsuspecting swan. This time, the frog wasn't greedy. This time, the frog lets the swan flourish elsewhere.

It would be unfair to Jisung that he has to grow old without ever finding out who his soulmate was. But at least he knew he had one and could keep the benefit of the doubt that his soulmate was doing amazing things elsewhere in the world.

Not the gloomy and doomy [Name] who sits alone in the cafeteria daily and decides other people's fate for them.

Jisung tilted his head to the side upon your lack of reaction. He saw you mouth something but couldn't hear you over the cafeteria noise. He leaned in a little closer, his eyes squinted. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

You inwardly breathed out a sigh of relief. That made it easier to keep your status a secret. Maintaining a flat expression, you spoke a little bit louder this time and made sure you put some grit into your words to scare him off. “I said why the fuck did you ask me that?”

His expression did not dim one bit upon your harsh words. Instead, his smile widened, and he sat on the seat across you. He raised his brows when he noticed you flinching at the chair squeak. Pulling himself closer to the table, he lifted the chair and placed it down lightly.

Folding his arms over the table, he finally replied, "Jiae dared me to say something funny to you. She said you would curse at me, and guess what? She was right!"

You stared at him pitifully. The pity was genuine and not an act to push him away. “You are playing truth or dare? In a school cafeteria?”

"Hey! You're never too old to play those games!" he said defensively, his mouth forming a slight pout as he waved his arm lightly by his side.

He looked adorable. You knew that. He had always been charming, but you never took the time to look at his face and appreciate his wonderfully cohesive features.

His chubby cheeks and sun-kissed smile were attractive individually, and they didn't ruin each other together. You wished you were less influenced by them.

"You can be too old to learn to read the room and notice that some people just don't want to talk to you," you laughed, making sure the noise from the back of your throat sounded sarcastic enough. "But don't worry, you're still young! You can learn now, starting with me!"

Jisung's eyes dimmed, and his grin fell flat. You could visibly see his gears turning and his demeanor changing when he realized you were being hostile on purpose. His brows furrowed ever so slightly in mild dismay as he leaned back.

He has met people like you before. If anything, he has encountered people far worse than you. It wasn't that you acted so distantly that you made him click his tongue and drop his bubbly personality, but that you were a close friend of Jiae. The chirpy and sweet Jiae who sat with his circle of friends every day.

He was never one to judge. He believes in the phrase: everyone is going through something you don't know about, and he had always chosen to keep the negative thoughts to himself. However, when Jiae mentioned you used to be her best friend back in middle school, he thought you would be brighter.

His expectation of you was so much higher than bitter and mean.

“That’s not nice,” he said. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

You were pleasantly surprised that he bit back but also not too weirded out that he did. After all, people like him were the most likely to defend themselves.

Tilting your head, you shrugged.

"A lot of people in this school didn't do anything to anyone, yet people like you–“ You closed your mouth and exhaled quietly, staring at his clueless expression without the willpower to make accusations. You couldn't possibly blame all cases of bullying on him; he's probably never hurt anyone in this school. Neither should you fight fire with fire.

“Never mind,” you said. “You need to learn how to let people be a little mean to you. You can’t expect everyone to defend themselves without ever getting hurt yourself.”

Jisung rubbed his lips together and sulked. You were right. Besides, he was the one who initiated an unwanted conversation. Discreetly, he looked behind his shoulder at his table of friends before turning back to you, ignoring the expression of complete boredom you were showing him.

“Actually,” he started, his voice soft and his shoulders shrunk. “I have a favor to ask."

You raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"You know prom is coming up, right?”

"No, Jisung. Thank you so much for telling me," you mumbled, sipping your apple juice. "I never see all the informational flyers they put up over the school to let us know what theme this year's prom will be."

Jisung sucked in a deep breath, willing himself to smile through your sardonic remark. "Anyway, I wanted to ask Jiae to prom, but I…" His voice trailed off when you held up your hand to stop him.

He waited curiously as you turned your head to the side to finish your drink, crushing the carton in your hand and throwing it back onto the trade. Your pursed lips brushed against each other as you held back a burp. Well, you'll be damned! The universe was helping you ensure Jisung never ended up with you!

"Let me guess," you said, looking away solemnly as if staring off into the ocean, and then you turned back to him.

"You want me to help you ask her to prom because you don't know what to do and what she likes. However, since she claims I am her best friend, you think I would be a good candidate for your prom proposal project."

“Yes!” Jisung replied after a moment. “Was that predictable?"

"Yes. When ten out of ten people who approach you ask for a favor, you learn many people don't have any real issues to deal with because they'd have to take it up with a professional if it is serious, so don't blame yourself too much." You shrugged." Also, the answer is no. I can't help you.”

"You can't help me or you won't help me?" Jisung asked.

“I can’t, and I won’t.”

“Why?”

"Oh my god, it's like you lack any thought process." You chuckled in disbelief, but some of you found humor in this situation, where his logic had flown out the window.

"Jiae is not the same person she was in middle school. I don't know what she likes now. You have better chances asking people in your friend group for help than asking me," you said.

"I don't know which screw got lost in your head, but it is fascinating that you'd rather turn to a stranger for help before asking your friends."

His lips quirked downward. “How would you know I haven’t already asked my friends?”

“Because you wouldn’t be asking me if you did,” you said, the lightheartedness in your voice made into a tone of mockery. “People like you love those things. Embarrassing public proposals, taking pictures of regular food, talking so loud people can hear your business from five yards away. Whatever.”

Jisung gulped down a grumble in his throat. More than being defensive about the stereotypes you seemed so fixated on, he was disturbed that you tossed him and his friends into the group of people like that.

There was nothing wrong with being that way, of course. Some people enjoy attention, and some people love to gossip, but he wasn't so illiterate as to not understand what group of people you were referencing and how you felt about them. He didn't think he was part of that group.

Popular? Yes. Superficial? A little! Horrible? No.

The drop in his optimism was hard to miss. However, even though you felt terrible, you thought it was necessary if you wanted him to keep a distance from you permanently. The soul mark under your arm can never be revealed, and you didn’t feel like deliberately hiding it for the rest of your life.

Having him be as far removed from your life as possible, to not even have any mutual acquaintances, was the way to go.

"For what's worth, Jisung, I think you'll be fine." You stood up, one hand holding onto the food tray as you left your seat. As you brushed past him, you lightly bumped the tray against the top of his head. This was your farewell. "Good luck to you."

His eyes followed your back. He watched you empty your tray and return it by the kitchen window. You jogged towards the stairway and disappeared upstairs.

It has bothered him since the conversation started, but he felt an unexplainable attraction toward you. It wasn't necessarily romantic attraction; you weren't his type, or at least he didn't think so.

He merely felt a desire to get to know you more, even though you spent most of your first encounter talking down to him.

Turning around, he stared at the vacant seat across him. His hand subconsciously reached for his hair and he pressed on the spot where you hit him with the tray.

You were certain Jisung had no knowledge of your soul bound with him. Yet, somehow, he has been bugging you any chance he got.

He was there during lunch when you ate alone and recess when you sat in your classroom with your head buried deep in your arms. He was also there during joint PE classes when you sat on the sideline watching other students play a foul basketball game.

You have underestimated his stubbornness in befriending you, which source was muddy and confusing. At this point, you were convinced that no number of one-word answers and defeated sighs would deter him from trying to talk to you.

He has singlehandedly developed your instinct to examine a room as you walk into it, forcing you to follow a new routine to avoid him.

You started eating lunch at the rooftop, where you met Felix, a transfer student who hadn't yet found his way around the school. After hearing your endeavor to avoid Jisung, which he thought was hilarious, he also agreed to hide with you by the stairway during each fifteen-minute recess.

With Felix’s help, you have successfully avoided Jisung most of the time.

Flipping a page of the textbook you borrowed from the library, you calmly scribbled down some important notes you jotted in class as you tried to cultivate a concept sensible enough to understand the topic.

“I swear these books say something different from what my teacher taught,” Felix complained as he dropped his forehead to the page. He swung his head from left to right as if copying the material into his brain. “I don’t get it! I don’t get it!”

You grimaced and dropped your pencil. Lifting your head from your palm, you reached over and carefully pulled the textbook from his head. His face fell against the table with a thud loud enough to embarrass himself. You let him stay in that position, swallowing the attention of those who looked up from the noise.

"Your class is moving ahead fast," you said, running a finger down the lines in your notebook to check for accuracy. "Did you write any notes from class?"

“No.” He turned slowly with a tearful frown. “The teacher talks too fast. I couldn’t really understand him.”

"That's," you licked your lower lip, "I can't help you now, but I made some notes while preparing for the chapter. You can use them to see if they help."

He shot up, forcing his chair into a squeak. Your sharp gaze peered over at his face, and he pursed his lips bashfully, trying to hide his presence by shrinking his body. Discarding the second noise commotion, you went into your folder in search of what Felix needed. Once you found it, you put it on the table to check for anything illegible.

A black-colored schoolbag suddenly dumped itself next to you, startling you and Felix. Your pencil scrapped a big line across the paper as you leaned away with a breath hitched in your throat.

Felix eyed the newcomer with an awkward smile, his body already turning away to his belongings so he could pack up. He has heard enough of Jisung from you to know he didn't want to sit around your bickering. Confused by his reaction, you turned to look briefly and then immediately turned away, closing your eyes and sucking down a lump of frustration upon the familiar sight of a squirrel keychain.

"You again," you mumbled as you grabbed your eraser from your pencil case to clean up the mess you made on your notes.

“Yes, indeed.” Jisung plopped down on the chair next to you. “It is I.”

A triumphant smile was evident on his face, both from finding you amongst all the other places near the school and from being able to annoy the living daylight out of you. It was never his intention to do the latter, but he took any reaction he could get out of you as an achievement worthy of celebrating.

“I see you’ve got a friend,” he said.

“I’m actually leaving,” Felix announced with a wave. When you snapped your head to glare at him for being disloyal, he only gently waved his hands before your face, leaning in but never quite touching you. Soft nothings flew out of his lips, but they were definitely apologetic. “I’m sorry. I’ll see you later, I promise.”

He left in the blink of an eye, almost quicker than when he realized curry buns were in the cafeteria. Picking up your jaw, your lips pursed together into a dissatisfied grimace as you faced the table again. Despite the rush, he didn't forget to take your notes with him, that coward!

“Who was that?”

“Lee Felix,” you replied. “He just transferred here.”

“Oh, no wonder! I’ve never seen him before!”

That was partly your fault. You asked him to hide away with you during all the social hours.

"Are you two friends?" Jisung asked. "Or did your homeroom teacher make you his guide?"

“He’s not in my class,” you said.

“So…” he fiddled with his thumbs, “you two are friends.”

“Sure.”

You deliberately turned away from him so you wouldn't catch his pitiful gaze. Something about the way his eyes were wide and round was different. His was like a deer, but not a deer in headlights. His eyes were pouty, pathetic, and sad. A foul-proof weapon to get whatever he wants. You have some resolve against that because you were on a mission to stay away from him, but you were not entirely immune to it.

You understood why he could feel unfairly treated knowing Felix became your friend while you never let your guard down around him, but that wasn’t for him to analyze.

"Jisung, why are you doing this?" you asked without looking at him. "I already told you I can't help you with the prom proposal."

"I'm not here for the prom proposal," he clarified. "I just wanted to be friends with you."

You pursed your lips together and nodded. That would make your plan backfire. With someone as playful and touchy as him, who knew when he'd want to play around with your sleeves, and then bam! One careless mistake could send the secret flying out to the public, and people would whisper about you, the incompatible and underserving soulmate.

“I don’t want to be friends with you.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Why do you want to be my friend?”

He shrugged. “I just want to.”

“Apply that to your question,” you said. “I just don’t want to be your friend.”

“That’s different!” he exclaimed quietly. “I don’t understand. You became friends with Felix!”

"What do you want me to do, Jisung?" You dropped your pencil and glared at him. "You find me at the most inconvenient time. You ramble on and on about your problems. I don't have the energy for someone like you! You're–" You clamped your mouth shut as Jisung leaned back against his chair. He tore his eyes away from you for the first time. "I'm just–I'm sorry. I'm drained."

Jisung didn't speak, and your heart dropped in the rare silence. Assuming that he had finally given up, you exhaled and began to collect your belongings. You stuffed your stationaries inside your pencil case and closed up the books, shoving them inside your school bag.

"Wait, where are you going?" Jisung asked after noticing your hasty movement.

"Home," you replied, zipping up your schoolbag and flinging it across your shoulder.

"Wait. Hold on, wait for me," he hissed as he grabbed his schoolbag quickly and followed you into the aisles, his eyes never leaving your figure.

Standing between the narrow space, Jisung trailed closely behind, trying to find an opportunity to speak up. At the same time, your legs moved quickly from one aisle to another, finding the borrowed textbook's original place. When you finally slipped the book in between the perfect gap with other identical textbooks, you turned and bolted out of the library. He watched you, exhaled, and picked up his pace.

“Look, I get it, you're tired. You really don't have to apologize for it,” he said once you were outside.

"I don't have time to satisfy your savior complex, Jisung," you said. "There are plenty of students like me. Go find someone else."

“You’re literally just saying things now,” he said. “I just want to chat with you.”

“We don’t have anything in common,” you muttered.

“You don’t know that!” he exclaimed with a laugh. “What do you like to do in your free time?”

"I'm not a masochist like you, that's for sure," you said as you gripped the strap of your bag. Briefly looking at him, you pulled a face almost condescendingly. "I would never chase after someone who treats me like I treat you."

Jisung stopped following you then. You stalked away, moving further and further away from him. His fingers dangled, barely brushing past each other, and then he rubbed them together until his hand turned into a fist. The corner of his lips twitched, but instead of wallowing in helplessness, he felt wronged and frustrated.

You were clearly capable of socializing; you could chat with others and go to places with your friends. What was so wrong about him that made you so hostile? Did you truly believe in your words that day at the cafeteria, where you indirectly called him superficial and embarrassing? Was the only difference between him and Felix the bridge of popularity?

If so, then you were undoubtedly worse than him.

“You’re the superficial one!”

You froze with your shoulders hunched up, and your eyes widened. Your heart nearly beat out of your chest when you turned around and found him stomping toward you, his hair bouncing with every animated step. Leaning back to avoid him crashing into you, you frowned at his accusing finger and even more aggressive ramble.

"You know nothing about me, and I have done nothing to you! You generalized a group of people you hate and applied that judgment to my friends and me based on less than five commonalities," he snapped.

"I admit I also did that to you. I thought you were mean and crass, but I changed my mind when I found out you had been hanging out with Felix while avoiding me every chance. You never tried to see where I am coming from or who I am as a person, removed from your assumptions! That makes you worse than me! That makes you a horrible person!"

He didn't know he had it in him to string together so many sentences verbally without stuttering once, especially when speaking from his mind without letting the words load. Before he knew it, his hand flew to cover his mouth, suppressing the urge to throw up apologies.

You didn't think he had it to tell the hard truth, so his rant was a pleasant surprise. You weren't the least bit offended. If you didn't want to be accused, then you wouldn't have acted the way you did, and your willingness to own up to your horrible personality always made you feel superior to others. However, turning a new leaf was a whole different step to take.

“You knew I was avoiding you?” you asked calmly.

His hand slowly dropped from his mouth, and he nodded. He looked almost grief-stricken, and you supposed he would be. He has probably never been treated this way.

“Do you really think we can be good friends?”

Jisung looked up curiously. "Why won’t we be?"

“I don’t fit in with your group of friends,” you said.

He ruffled his hair, his eyes squinted in disbelief. “Why does that matter?”

“It matters to me. People like you don’t have to worry about that because everyone likes you,” you grumbled, a sense of unfairness sparking deep within you. "You've never been the kid who gets pushed over in the cafeteria or the girl who got bet on, so you can shove that."

It was your turn to call him out. You were right. He was never the public plaything, the cafeteria humiliation, nor did he ever attempt to stop those weekly events from happening. Asking you to ignore everything when he was sitting comfortably on top of the social hierarchy was inconsiderate.

"Who did those to you?" he asked instead, choosing to carefully approach you, to take baby steps towards the gate of your heart.

"That's funny. I swear you were in the cafeteria when it happened, too." Your shoulders slacked visibly as you spun on your heels, an eye roll tailing after. "Pretentious."

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t stand up to anyone.” He followed you. “I care. I really do!”

“Gee! How noble of you!” you mocked. "You care now because you need my help with the prom proposal. I don’t need that kind of pity.”

Jisung let out a groan of frustration, one that was loud enough to make you halt to a stop again. It felt more aggressive than the rant just a moment ago.

"I'm only going to say this one last time. I am not talking to you because I need your help," he exclaimed. His hands were deep in his hair, borderline pulling them from his scalp, and he was sure it would be less painful than this conversation.

Letting his hair go, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply enough to calm himself. "You intrigued me. I don't know how or why, but you did, so now I want to be your friend. That's it."

It was the truth. You never once doubted that he genuinely wanted to start a friendship with you. The problem was you. You were so afraid of being found that you would rather stab him over and over again than accept him, even though you didn't hate him at all.

You gulped hard, giving yourself some time to think. "There is no point in us being friends when you have closer friends to hang out with."

He shook his head with a disagreeing frown. “I have friends outside of the group I always hang with. Just because we are not as close doesn't mean I don’t still value their friendship.”

A fleeting friendship. He would still hang out with you, but most of the time, he would be around his existing friends, which would eat away the time he could spend with you. You would never ask him to choose you over his friend group, and you didn't feel like wasting your time maintaining a distant friendship if you could just pretend he was never in your life.

That way, you never have to worry about each other. That way, things would be the way they were supposed to be. You were used to that.

“Agree to disagree,” you said. “I’d rather commit to a few people full than have to spare minor commitments to several others. I’m not willing to spend that kind of effort for someone who is just a friend.”

You waited for his response. He heard you, loud and clear. Through the silence, he could finally look at you for the first time. He took everything you said into consideration, his eyes boring holes into your features and sending shivers down your spine with their intensity. After a moment, he reached into his pocket and took out his phone. He poked at it impatiently, his nail clanking against the screen.

"What are you doing?" you asked in defeat.

“Here," Jisung replied as he showed you his phone. The screen showed his calendar, where he marked all the upcoming events and important dates. Birthdays, hangouts, tests, and extracurricular activities. “I am really good at managing my time. I promise I will make time for you. I will make space for our friendship to flourish.”

Your eyes moved between his phone and his face. A noticeable heat brewed under your uniform, and it tried its mightiest to stretch the nerve around your lips into a smirk. You didn't want to feel optimistic about this, so you focused on the fingerprints on his screen and slowly smacked your tongue against your top front teeth.

It just occurred to you that he has continuously made accommodations for you. You wouldn’t initiate conversations, so he did. You wouldn’t find him during free time, so he did. You didn’t like to talk too much, so he filled the space. You didn’t like fleeting friendships, so he made space.

All of that for what? To be friends with someone like you?

"I'm sorry," you muttered after a sigh, touching your forearm and avoiding eye contact with him. “You’re going to regret being my friend.”

"That's not up to you to decide," Jisung said.

You couldn't deal with the risk of letting him know, and you didn't have the energy to hide your mark constantly. But even more than that, your weak heart couldn't handle seeing Jisung look as defeated and sulky as he did whenever you treated him less than decent.

Jisung was your soulmate, after all. As pessimistic of a person as you were, you care about and like him. Enough to try turning over a new leaf.

"I'm heading to the Taiwanese shop," you informed as you started to walk away again.

"Huh? I thought you were going home?"

"I lied. My mom isn't home to make dinner today, so I'm eating outside," you replied, stopping in your tracks and looking behind your shoulder at Jisung, who was still grounded on his spot. You beckoned him over. "Are you tagging along or not?"

Jisung grabbed hold of the straps of his schoolbag as a smile lit up on his face. He rushed over to you quickly, not wanting to waste another minute.

After ordering food, you two went to find a small table in the middle of the restaurant and settled down.

Jisung gave his parents a call about not being able to make it back home for dinner despite your consistent protest that immediately melted away when Jisung let out a playful growl your way to display his sense of dismay. You told him not to act like a dog in public and let it go.

Jisung rubbed his hands together as he placed his food on the table. He snapped the wooden chopsticks open and dug in, quietly praising the food with each slurp of his wonton noodle soup. You focused on your food, not bothering to start a conversation until both of you finished dinner.

Crossing your legs under the table, you leaned against the chair and wiped your mouth with a napkin. “Regardless, you want my help with the prom proposal, right?”

Jisung’s chewing slowed as he smiled up at you sheepishly. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, so it’s okay. I’ll find someone else for help.”

“No, it’s fine.” You shrugged. “It’s better for you to talk to me about a problem. I might actually have something to contribute than me struggling to relate to what you did during the day.”

He squinted his eyes a little at you. It was probably because you have never spoken to him much about what really goes on inside your head that you appeared entirely unpredictable for him.

Jisung wasn’t saying he was ever good at observing people’s behavior and understanding their feelings. He was always more of a sympathizing and comforting person than analyzing and accessing.

But with you, he couldn’t tell anything at all. Your expression betrays your thoughts, and your tone betrays your words. You mix sharp wit with a mellow voice and joy with exhaustion.

At the last second, you were all up his face about him only caring about his problems, but now you offered to help him with them.

As confusing and rude as you had been to him, he couldn’t feel an ounce of hatred towards you, nor did he ever feel lost in this relationship. Logically, he should have been, but deep inside his chest, something kept tugging him back to you.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “People usually find me to ask for something, so it’s more comfortable if you need me to do something for you.”

"That doesn't sound very nice," Jisung frowned, sitting up straighter as he looked at you with saddening eyes.

"It doesn't, but you get used to it," you said.

He pouted. ”Still, everyone deserves someone who wants to be with them simply because they want to."

You chuckled harshly. The idea was foreign to you—mostly a fault of your own. You weren’t attractive enough for people to be interested in you from the get-go.

You weren’t decent enough for those curious to stay for a long time. You also weren’t too socially endurable, so besides other people getting tired of you, you couldn’t stand being around anyone for too long.

“You wouldn’t understand, and I hope you never do.” You smiled bitterly. A rare, genuine smile, accompanied by your shoulders slacking from tension and your alerted eyes softening.

It’s a sight that indicated to Jisung the tearing down of your mental walls. A second later, you built it back up again. Your back arched, and your lips pursed. The heartfelt expression changed too fast for Jisung; he didn’t even have the time to store the image in his brain.

“I’ll start by saying I can’t guarantee your success rate because, as I have told you, Jiae and I aren’t friends anymore,” you said.

"We’re also not that close back then. I have no idea why she still goes around announcing that we’re good friends. The last time we hung out was during middle school, and that was it.”

Jisung's confused expression gave you an idea that he didn't really believe you, so you placed your palm on the table and leaned in to assert more confidence. “We are not friends. Have you ever seen me hang out with her before?"

"Uh..." Jisung opened his mouth.

“No, Jisung! You’re thinking, and this question shouldn’t involve any thinking!” You snapped your fingers at his face. “The fact is right in front of you. The answer is no, you have never seen us hang out before.”

Jisung pursed his lips together, taken back by your fast movements.

"Okay, fine," he said. “Then help me out as my friend. Tell me what she might want. Give me your standard."

You bumped against the back of the chair and snorted with your arms crossed. “Does it look like I have a standard to base upon?"

“Oh, you know!” Jisung whined, "Any celebrities? Fictional characters? Songs?"

You let out another snort as you shook your head comically, "Of course, because fictional characters are so achievable.”

“They can be if you try!” Jisung declared.

“You’re not serious, are you?” You raised a brow. “You know why fictional characters are so desirable because they are not obtainable. It is impossible to become them or be with them. The most enticing part about them is the process of desire, which will promptly be eliminated once you obtain it.”

“Hey, I don’t know what you’re mouthing off about,” he said between chews of his food. “I just know that if my partner has a list of boyfriend goals, then you bet I am giving them everything on the list. That includes fictional character standard.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile played on your lips. The way Jisung furiously wanted to give his love everything they wanted sent shivers down your spine and made you feel a sense of excitement in conjunction with a yearning for a potential future.

Whoever ends up with him in the future will receive such an immense amount of love that you could feel your envy creeping up, which was in conjunction with bitterness.

That person could have been you if you weren't so much like yourself.

“I don't think your partner would ask you to do that. I think you're already great,” you said. “If that’s worth anything.”

Jisung's eyes widened at the unpredicted compliment. “You think so?”

You nodded in confirmation, and he laughed shyly, scratching the back of his head.

“Thanks,” he said. “No one's ever told me that before."

"No way,” you denied in disbelief. “Someone must have told you that you are good enough before. Or anything along the lines of that.”

“I have been complimented before, of course! But telling me I’m a nice guy doesn’t reassure me,” he mumbled.

“I mean–“ You snorted air out of your nose as you looked away. “What else do you want? I’d give anything to be told I’m a nice person.”

He unknowingly snorted, too. “That requires you to be a nice person.”

“Oh?” You leaned up from the back of the chair and uncrossed your arms. “Suddenly, you’re a comedian! You know how to joke!”

“I’m just saying!” he exclaimed. “I don’t think you are horrible, but you can be mean and unapproachable sometimes. ”

“Yet you approached me.”

“Now who’s the comedian?” He pointed at you with his chopsticks and dropped them on the napkin.

You waited for him to finish chewing the last of his food. His words irked you, but not in the way one would assume. You still didn’t really care for the consequences of your attitude. You cared to know how you turned out that way or when you changed because you didn’t used to be this way.

You had a social circle back then, and you were involved in different hobbies, and then your father left the picture, and you were gone.

Looking up at Jisung, who sipped his drink as he casually checked his phone for any messages from his parents, you cast your eyes down when you realized perhaps you did care a little about how others thought of you.

Specifically, you cared about how he thinks of you. You didn’t have to worry about it when you were gatekeeping yourself from him. It was a mistake to let loose.

“Do you really think I’m mean?”

Jisung slowly looked up at you from his phone. He stopped sucking on the straw when he saw your determined expression, and he dropped his phone and pushed away his drink with a prepared expression as if he had been waiting for this his whole life.

But he wasn’t prepared. He was gently panicking; he thought he hurt your feelings, and that stung his skin terribly.

“No. No, no, no,” he sped out. “Whatever you are thinking of, I probably didn’t mean it that way.”

“How did you mean it?”

“I don’t know? It’s just–“ He sighed. “You were rude to me when I first talked to you.”

“I guess I was,” you muttered. You avoided his eyes. “I wasn’t always like this.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled. “What were you like?”

Happier was the most straightforward word you knew to describe it. You had no worries for the future, you had friends, and your parents were still together.

Although, you couldn’t blame your parents’ separation for the bitter change in your personality, at least not entirely. Some part of it was your own doing. You wanted to be cynical and unapproachable to avoid socializing and being known.

You sniffed and rubbed the tip of your nose, a grimace obvious on your lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He stared at you in dissatisfaction as you gathered the trash from the table onto your tray. You moved fast and without any words, which he couldn’t find any reason to. Besides that, you were even more upset at his imposing question.

You wore your schoolbag and stood up. He followed dramatically, bumping into table corners and kicking chairs on his way.

“I like you, [Name],” he clarified, his legs matching your pace. “I really do. I’m sorry!”

“I know,” you said as you slowed down. You peered at him with a smirk. “I’m messing with you.”

He paused on the spot, the worried frown slowly quirked into a smile.

You could consider him humored.

You spent a week of (debatably) quality time with Jisung. It happened more frequently than you liked, occurring every day after school.

Each of your hangouts consisted of you denying his offer to eat dinner with you since your mother works late at night, and him arguing that teenagers should always eat with someone to decrease loneliness.

It felt both relieving and uncomfortable for you to be in such a quiet environment during Saturday lunch.

Jisung was always there to yell in your face about his day after you finished dinner at a random restaurant that you had to force him to pick. The never-ending process of deciding where to eat usually ends with a game of rock-paper-scissors, which the loser has to choose, and Jisung miraculously always lost.

Now that you had finished lunch at home alone, the quiet process of cleaning up after yourself was deafening. You never had a problem with it, but you supposed it made sense to have a gaping hole in your chest now that Jisung's terrific company has been etched in your brain.

Being without him made any atmosphere duller, even with the television on as background noise.

After covering the unfinished dish with a plastic wrap, you picked the plate up just in time to hear the doorbell ring. Putting the plate back down curiously, you slowly glided to the door, thinking it was just the delivery guy.

"Hello–" You eyes widened and your voice came to a sharp end after you shamelessly swung the front door open.

"Hi, you!" Jisung greeted, grinning at you with his chubby cheeks and bright teeth.

You panicked. Your arm was propped up, your hand around the edge of the wooden frame, and you wore short sleeves. It had been too hot inside the kitchen when you cooked lunch, so you had to change it, and you knew very well that your soul mark was entirely on display.

All Jisung needed to do was turn his head a little, and he would catch sight of it.

Quickly, you brought your arm behind your back and smiled up at him. Jisung, who had caught on to the faint ink on your arm and the nervous smile that followed closely behind, tilted his head to the side as his cheerful grin dimmed to a curious smirk.

“I saw your soul-mark there,” he said, pointing at where your arm was propped up. “Why are you hiding it?”

When you shrugged and shakily told him it was nothing, it only spiked his interest, so he pressed on. He squinted his eyes and carefully removed his shoes by stepping on the outer sole.

You laughed when he began walking inside your home uninvited, but you weren’t sure if you got nervous from his unrelenting gaze or humored that he was visibly shorter after taking off his shoes.

“Oh, come on, what does it say?” he asked.

“Nothing! I wasn’t even trying to hide it,” you replied, forcing the nonchalance into your tone.

“Then show me,” he said, holding a hand out politely. “If you weren’t hiding it.”

You looked around the living room for any saving grace, but there was none. It was an open space without anything interesting to redirect his attention to. Unfortunately, you were the most interesting thing to him.

You scoffed, feeling your heart pump all its blood onto your neck and cheeks.

You have been hiding this secret for a week already.

Given that you have relatively let your guard down around him and knew that he wasn’t the type of person to judge you based on your social status. Given that you two have hit it off very well and were surprisingly compatible. Given that you thought, for a moment, that there was a chance your relationship could work out, you couldn’t tell him.

You’ve lied for long enough. It would be too awkward to tell the truth.

Besides, it could have been a honeymoon phase. If you spend more time with him, he could show his real face and change your mind.

"It can't be that embarrassing, can it?”

He reached for your arm, his fingers curling around it. If he really wanted to yank your arm out of your back, he could, and he would. With a speeding heart, you let out a strangled noise from the back of your throat and decided to turn in a circle quickly, startling him. Your hand flew up to slap against his eyes, which caught him off guard. You backed him up to the nearest wall and held him still.

"Woah, woah! Okay, I won't look!" Jisung exclaimed defensively, holding his hand up in surrender.

He could feel you pressed up to his torso as you asked him for confirmation. He wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of your sudden exert of dominance or more attracted by the proximity you unknowingly bestowed upon him.

"I promise," he confirmed. Seconds later, he felt your hand slip away.

You rubbed your arm shyly, pressing it close to your side. “What are you doing here?"

Jisung's shoulders hunched as he looked around your house. “Nothing much. I just wanted to spend some time with you."

“Why? Were you bored being home alone?” you asked as you returned to the dining table and started to take the plates back into the kitchen, dropping them in the sink so you could deal with them later.

“Uh, yes.” Jisung raised a finger. “But I’m not just here for me! I also really want to hang out with you."

Your eyes squinted at the emphasis of his tone, eyeing him with contemplation as you walked out of the kitchen slowly. It wasn’t out of his character to need constant stimulation from the outside world, either music, public transport, food, or people.

However, how he rubbed his hands and pulled on his fingers spoke an ulterior motive that only he and his savior complex would have.

“Is this about what I said before? About people asking me for a favor whenever they look for me?”

Jisung blinked at you. You were correct. That thought had been bugging him day and night. He genuinely thought that people should never have to think with such a cynical mindset that was antagonistic towards oneself. His friends should never feel that way, and you especially should not.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied nonchalantly, a pout evident on his face.

You let out a faint laugh as you shook your head, beckoning him to follow you before leading him to your room. Jisung was hesitant as he took the first step inside, but soon, he was drowned in the cozy fragrance of your room and basked in the sight of what was the embodiment of you.

Folded laundry, comic books, posters on your walls, and bed sheet patterns. Everything meant something when it belonged to you; someday, he thought he would be part of the atmosphere. However that would unfold.

“I knew there would be a pile of clothes in your room. I knew it!” Jisung pointed at the laundry basket in the corner next to your closet.

“Everyone owns a laundry pile, Jisung.”

"I knew there would be a lot of books in your room, ha!" He turned and pointed at the bookshelf of textbooks and fiction books stacked on two columns of your shelf.

“Students tend to have books in their room, Jisung.”

“I knew you like music! Look at all the albums!” He spun and gestured at the albums of your favorite band displayed in a small rectangular space.

“A lot of people like music, Jisung.”

“Okay, what is your problem? I’m trying to get riled up here.” Jisung frowned, and you laughed at his defeated state.

He slumped down on the floor, leaning his back against the edge of your bed. At the same time, you sat on your rolling chair after turning on the air conditioner so you could put on a sweater.

“I’m going to ask you again,” you said. “What are you doing here?”

Jisung pulled a face at your mocking tone. ”To steal a glance at your soul-mark, duh."

You pursed your lips together and threw your eraser at him. He giggled as he held up his arm to block his face, your reaction once again kick-starting his interest.

Why are you so defensive?

"I don't want to talk about it," you said, as if reading his mind.

“Why? Did something happen?"

You hopelessly glared at Jisung, unsure if he was simply dumb at catching onto hints or if his curiosity was really getting the best of his noisiness. You looked away, annoyed but also overwhelmed. Jisung offered you a chance to talk about your feelings; it would be weird if you didn't take it, considering how many emotions you bottle up, even if the topic was you and him.

You just have to be careful.

You sighed, giving in to his semi-pleading eyes. “He wouldn't love me. We're too different."

Jisung raised an eyebrow. "You are so sure he's a he–"he suddenly shot forward–"Oh my god, you already found him."

You had one job.

He sat up on his knees, looking at you with wide and excited eyes before he let out a disappointed groan, snapping his fingers aggressively. “Who is he? Do I know him? Is he from our school? I will go talk to him!"

“It’s nothing exciting,” you replied timidly. “You’re getting worked up over nothing.”

"What are you talking about? He’s your soulmate!” He slumped down onto his legs again and stared at you in disbelief. He ran a hand through his hair, pouting as he took secret glances at you, hoping for an agreement. When you didn’t give him any, he groaned and smacked his legs. “He’s supposed to love you forever!”

When you threw him a face, he rolled his eyes and shook his hand at you to indicate that he understood your pessimistic sentiment. “Okay, fine. Maybe not forever, but still! He’s supposed to love you.”

"First of all, you said it yourself, he's my soulmate. I don't know why you're being more excited about this than I am," you pointed out. "Second, you have a very fantasized perception of soulmates."

Piping down, Jisung looked at you with squinted eyes, challenging and determined. His voice was low as he spoke briefly. "How? Elaborate."

You shrugged. You thought it was evident from the get-go. "It's just a link. It's not a predetermined bond. You don't have to love your soulmate if you don't want to. The universe can't force you to do what you don't want to.

“But soulmates!” he exclaimed in a whine.

He inched forward slowly, moving over to you by the rolling chair and placing his hand on your knee to stop you from spinning.

"Soulmates have a unique link together. They are supposed to guarantee that someone out there is willing to accept you no matter what, so you don't have to worry about your current problems," he said. "They're a promise that lasts forever!"

You pressed your hand on his, landing on soft initially before suddenly shoving him off your knee. “No one is supposed to do anything. No one is supposed to love anyone.”

“Parents are supposed to love their children,” he retorted, crossing his arms.

You exhaled as you stared ahead. Once upon a time, you thought that too. You still believed in it, somewhat. Your father’s sudden departure left you in disarray; you weren’t sure if you passionately advocated for the idea or had abandoned that hope.

“They are supposed to,” you muttered. “Alas, some of them don’t.”

Jisung sat on his heels quietly when you turned around to be by your desk. You leaned your head on your arms and closed your eyes, relishing the peace and quiet you hadn't gotten since he arrived at your home. It felt awkward, almost like you knew he figured something was wrong, and he did.

You were always so frustrated and hurried. You think and speak fast, yet you rarely say the wrong thing. It was very unlike himself, who had to ensure the words went through his brain if he didn't want to mess up. He figured that was why it was evident whenever you're upset, because the frustration turns into sadness, and you stop arguing.

Rubbing his hands on his pants, he looked around your room again and carefully moved closer to sit by your desk. He looked up, his lips pursing with uncertainty as he poked the side of your leg.

“Hey,” he said. “Are you okay?”

You sighed and turned your head to look down at him. He was small, all curled up to occupy as little space as possible, so you would let him stay around because he knew you hated noise, long rambles, animated gestures, and everything that encompasses himself as a person.

It was guilt-inducing. Looking at him, your soulmate, was painful, from knowing what could have been to how you have treated him so far. But he remained kind and welcoming. For the most part, he did. And he was loud. You knew he tried not to be. You didn't care for it.

You would have forgotten what you were arguing about if he hadn't left such a lasting impression on you for you to care so much.

How could you ever doubt him in regard to his willingness to embrace his soulmate despite any kind of circumstances? How could you ever even think about Jisung purposefully pushing you away if he ever knew about the truth between you and him? That was unlike him. You knew it wasn't.

“You believe in all of that,” you whispered. “About your soulmate.”

He blinked, the gears behind his round eyes turning. He left his hand near you in the tiny space on your seat.

“Yeah. I can’t imagine not loving my soulmate,” Jisung confessed, staring into your soul. “I really want to meet them.”

You pursed your lips together, desperately wanting to tell him the truth, but your paranoia told you to lie. You were too deep into it. Telling him now would only cause him anger, and you were scared of the consequences despite him admitting that he would, no matter what, be in love with his soulmate.

“You’re so nice, Jisung,” you complimented, your eyes softening with a smile. “I wish everyone was like you.”

His lashes fluttered, but only he felt it. Looking away to compose himself, nervously pulling his fingers and settling his wiggly toes, he bit back a bashful grin by blowing air into his cheeks. You watched his ear gradually turn red, its cause a mystery to you, and you reached a hand down to rub it between your fingers.

He jumped, his head snapping to look at you as his hand flew up to block the sensation. You retreated immediately, equally as startled by his reaction. His eyes darted between your face and your hand, almost as if he could piece together what happened.

You frantically tried to find something else to cover up the fact that you subconsciously attempted to soothe the redness on his ear, releasing yourself from your sullen position.

“I–uhm, hey! Do you want to know about my college application process?" you asked.

Jisung furrowed his brows, his jaw agape to say words that refused to come out.

He was sure you touched him—his ears were a weird body part to touch, but he was willing to take whatever you gave him. But he wanted to know what it meant or if you had something to tell him but was deterred by his reaction. Could it have meant something? He should consult the internet about that!

The subject change was ridiculous, too! Have college applications started already? He knew his teachers were reminding the class about it daily. However, the urgency among the student body hadn't started yet, so he assumed there was still time.

"I–I mean–"Seeing your nervous expression, he decided to let the matter go. He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Should we start applying already?"

"I applied a little earlier for a specific college I wanted to attend just to boost my chances. Otherwise, I am applying at the same time as everyone else. You should start preparing for it, though," you said, glancing at him. "I got into the interview round. If I do well during the interview, I'll be accepted."

Jisung widened his eyes. He fist-bumped your arm. “Look at you, being one step ahead of the rest of us.”

"I'm not the only student in our grade who did an early application," you said.

“But did they all get invited to an interview?”

"I don't know. I'm not really friends with any of them," you muttered as you put together a few pieces of paper. "I started practicing with my mom, and she wrote down some sample questions for me. Here, take a look."

Jisung moved away from leaning on your desk to sitting across from you. You turned your chair and handed him the stack of paper with multiple correction marks. You pursed your lips nervously as you waited for him to finish reading, watching as his mouth moved across each word and his head nodded in understanding.

He has never looked so serious before. You were too used to seeing the animated side of him, and you realized you'd never watched him pay attention to something boring before. He actually looked very decent when he was concentrated. It wasn't a surprise.

"Most of them are good answers." He pointed at the question and flipped the paper around for you to see. "Except for this one."

You knew all the mock questions and answers like the back of your hand, so you barely had to read what he pointed at. "What's wrong with that?"

"It's asking about what you want to do in the future. I'm guessing if a school is asking that question, they are trying to gauge the student's career path and how it can align with the school's personal interest," Jisung said, looking at you through his fallen bangs. "You can't tell the interviewer you don't have a dream."

“I don’t,” you said. “I don’t have anything. I don’t have anything I want to do.”

“No one is ever honest in an interview," Jisung pointed the tip of the pen at you. “You can lie.”

You shrugged. “I suppose? I’ll just take any job that is offered to me.”

With the current market, a college graduate would be lucky to be offered a job, so there wasn't the option to choose unless you were extraordinary. But a lot of people are not. Even if many people are extraordinary, it will be oversaturated, and a new standard will emerge. Nobody will ever be good.

Everyone will only be good for a little bit until they're not enough anymore.

“What? No!” Jisung waved his hand dismissively. “Come on, [Name], you must have a dream job!”

"I really don't. I just want to earn money.” Your lips arched downward. When Jisung frowned at you, you could only roll your eyes. You asked, almost accusingly, ”Don’t look at me like that. Do you have a dream job?”

Jisung nodded without hesitation. "I want to be a producer.”

“Like a filmmaker?” you asked, tilting your head. “You don’t strike me as a movie watcher.”

“That’s a director,” he pointed at you, “and you are wrong. I love movies. I watch dating shows all the time.”

"Directors are by default also producers because they produce films," you returned the point, "and you are wrong. Dating shows are not movies. They are variety shows."

“You know what I mean!”

“Do I, though?”

Jisung rolled his tongue over his front teeth, a chuckle sneaking onto his shoulders. “Do you have to argue with me about everything?”

"You think I like to start fights? Is that how it is?" you gritted out playfully, tilting your head to stare at him dead in the eyes. When he breathed out the chuckle, you relaxed and shook your head. "If you're not planning to write stories, are you planning to produce music?"

“You are correct!” he exclaimed with a congratulatory clap. “I sing my own songs during every school talent show.”

“Those are nap sessions to me,” you said.

The school forces everyone to attend the talent shows, but since the assembly hall would remain dark for most of it, you always used the time to doze off in your seat.

It was a miracle that you've never fallen off the chair, and it's a shame that you've missed every performance Jisung has performed over the past three years. He has never won them, but he must be excellent.

He pressed his hands to his heart and made a cartoonish gunshot noise. He leaned back, whining in pain. “Oh, you sure are hurtful, [Name]!”

"Don't be dramatic. It's not like I singled you out. I slept through everyone's performance," you said as you leaned forward to kick him. "Are you going to also work part-time as an idol, or do you want to only work behind the scenes?"

"Either one is fine. I don't necessarily have to be in a company. I can get big on doing covers, too," Jisung said.

You nodded in acknowledgment. You couldn’t provide any insight because you knew nothing about the industry besides the songs and a few outrageously famous individuals it produces.

"Don't forget me when you get famous," you said. "But if you need anything, like an insightful critique on your latest album, do find me. If a hater like me likes it, everyone else will like it too."

“But I will also be hanging out with you,” he said, giving you finger guns. "I'm not going to find you just because I need you to do something for me."

"Uh, have you met me before?"

"Yes, and I hereby announce that I, Han Jisung, adore your presence," he said, dipping his head into a slight bow.

You defeatedly scoffed at him as you pressed your hand to his head, pushing him away from you. “You're so dumb."

"You love me for it!” He grinned.

You sighed inwardly. You do, you really do.

You two shared a moment of silence. You hadn't even realized you two were comfortable enough with each other that a long silence wouldn't result in you wanting to bury your head in your arms and never see the light of day again.

"You're really not going to show me your soul mark?” he said suddenly. “Could you at least tell me who he is? I’ll kick his ass for you."

"Hey, here's an idea. Your debut album should be called 'Jisung really can't mind his goddamn business,'" you said.

Jisung frowned, turning away from you childishly, and you hoped he always forgets to mind his goddamn business.

The admission interview landed on a school day and took place at the college of choice. They picked a time after lunch hours so students could ask their teachers for the day’s school work before leaving early. Some students choose not to attend school the day to prepare, but you weren’t one of them.

Your palms were sweaty as you stood before the cafeteria door, debating whether or not you should walk in and look for Jisung. You told him you wouldn’t be having lunch today since you wanted to practice and prepare for the interview on your own, and you urged him to spend lunchtime with his friends instead.

In retrospect, you should have taken Jisung up on his offer to help you rehearse your answers. It would be better practice to have someone play the role of the interviewer than having you spend most of the time trying not to feel awkward talking to yourself. Besides, his presence would have provided emotional support or a decent distraction.

You started to panic the more you looked at your notes. The more you panic, the more you stuttered and messed up your practice. By then, thousands of worst-case scenarios had already been through your head, bringing your self-esteem to a negative.

The only person you thought would be able to calm you down was Han Jisung. Not just because he was your soulmate but also because he was the only friend you’ve got.

Unconsciously, your legs had already brought you to Jisung's table in the cafeteria. When you made your way there, your eyes focused only on his silhouette. His friends ceased to chat with each other when you stood by the table with an unreadable look on your face. It took a brief glance for Jisung to see the worried gleams behind your eyes, and his brows furrowed.

As he opened his mouth, another voice spoke, beating him to talking first.

Jiae waved excitedly at you, a smile on her face. “[Name]! You are here at the right time. We were just talking about something interesting!"

You removed your eyes from Jisung and turned to look at the unfamiliar girl. You tilted your head to the side, unsure how to respond to her, trying to pull you into the middle of a supposed interesting conversation. “What–what were you talking–”

“Can you get some pudding for my friends and me? We forgot to get them when we were in line to get our food,” she cut you off, reaching a hand out to you on the table. “Gossip sounds better with good food, you know?”

You blinked and turned to look at the line of students waiting with their trays in hand, moving like ants one by one to speak to the lunch lady. She has a terrible tone and was never pleasant, but at least she was willing to talk to you about things other than lunch preferences. Either way, you didn’t come here for this.

“You can get it yourself,” you said.

“But we are in the middle of an interesting conversation!” She pouted. “I didn’t want to pause it. That’s why I’m asking you for a favor.”

Jisung brushed his hand on his pants and turned to Jiae. He didn’t know they were missing the dessert or that it was essential to the conversation. But since you were already here to speak to him anyway, he thought he could do that and deal with the pudding problem on his way back. “Actually, I got it–“

“You’re in high school. How interesting can your conversations really get? What else do you talk about besides celebrities who accomplished something in their life and some other dumb things?” you retorted with a faux dismissive frown. “The shop is literally right there. It won’t take you five minutes.”

Jisung snapped his head around to grimace at you. His eyes widened in panic because he never thought you would take a jab at his friends. You caught his glance and shrunk.

“My god, if you’re gonna be annoying about it!” One of the girls got up from her chair with a scoff. She faintly checked your shoulder as she walked past you. “I’ll get the damn pudding since it’s so fucking hard to.”

“Thank you,” Jiae sounded after her friend before returning to the table.

It was awkward and quiet after the unnecessary scene. Everyone at the table pretended to peer at you discreetly and mutter under their breath.

They made sure it appeared as your fault and wanted you to see that they were being the bigger person and not directly accusing you of it. Except they were. They were stealing glances at you and talking amongst themselves.

“That wasn’t nice, [Name],” Jiae said. “I didn’t know why you said those.”

You flicked your nails with increasing velocity. There was an urge to apologize. You told yourself to hold it back. When you spoke, it wasn’t defensive or demanding. You sounded confused. “I didn’t say anything wrong.”

Waiting in line to buy the pudding for a bunch of people or being ostracized in real-time by them shouldn’t even begin to top your list of worries now. You’ve got more important things to deal with! You’ve got college, your future!

“You provoked me first!” you pointed out desperately. “I came here with a valid reason, not to get bossed around by you people.”

“'You people' is some way to describe your fellow classmates.”

“Asking for a small favor is apparently provocative now.”

“What? I didn’t mean it like that.” Your pleading eyes turned to Jisung.

He was the only one who would most likely get you out of this situation compared to anyone else sitting around the table. He tensed up as if all his friends’ eyes were on him and they were all judging his next move.

You’ve put him in a terrible position. Between his friends and you, who were also his friends, he understood that Jiae should not have continued to push you to do something you refused. Her friend also should not have made a scene out of something trivial. But you also said something you shouldn’t have.

You knew you were wrong because you two talked about a variety of things when you two were together. Why couldn’t you apply that to him and his friends?

Jisung licked his lower lip, watching your fingers fumble with each other and your teary eyes gleaming with hurt. He curled his fists tightly as he turned to Jiae, who stared at him expectantly, and he looked down at the table.

“I…” he bit his tongue. “I don’t know.”

You gave him a few seconds to say anything else before you breathed out a hopeless scoff, realizing he had chosen all his friends over you. You supposed that was normal. He has known them for years, and they probably never forced him to work for their friendship.

It was easier being their friends than it was being yours. You were sure of that. It just hurt to have it backfire.

He felt a harsh tug at his chest, a sharp pain that beat along with his slow heart when he saw the disappointment on your face. Not the playful kind of disappointment he has always seen from you. This was genuine, paired with a few tears quickly wiped away.

You let your guard down to ask for him, and he ignored you. This was a true heartbreak. A faint moment of hatred that you held for him flashed before your eyes before you turned around and walked away.

“Wait, [Name]!” He shot up from his seat, leaving his group of friends to follow you out of the cafeteria.

You sped through the hall with him high on your tail, apologies flying out of his mouth until there was barely any meaning attached to them anymore. Once you arrived at your locker, you stopped and turned to him, a veil dark over your eyes.

“What do you want?” you asked.

He exhaled with difficulty. Your eyes freaked him out. It was the same from when he first tried to befriend you, back when you hated his guts and wanted nothing to do with him. This couldn’t be it. It couldn’t revert to the beginning. He cared about you too much for you to not want to know him anymore.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Okay,” you said and opened your locker. “Leave me alone. I have to go soon.”

“Oh, come on,” he pleaded. “I’m sorry. I really am. I froze and just… I don’t know what happened either.”

“That’s convenient.” You randomly messed with the things in your locker. “The next time I do something horrible, I’ll tell them I don’t know what came over me.”

Jisung groaned, but he was left speechless. He wasn’t sure what else to say or do if an apology wasn’t good enough for you, and rewinding time wasn’t possible.

“You came looking for me,” he said. “You don’t have to forgive me, but at least let me help you with whatever it was.”

“Yeah, right,” you stuttered out a fake chuckle. “I’m gonna let you help me after the phenomenal help you just provided.”

This might be the rare occasion where he let time deal with the mistake instead of going out of his way and making an embarrassment of himself by sticking his head into the mud by your feet.

You would be furious if he did that. It would be more embarrassing for you to receive that kind of apologetic attention than for him to be treated less than human. He wouldn’t complain. He did it first.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his hands uncomfortable by his side. “Please try to forgive me.”

His lovely eyes drew you into him, an uncontrollable habit of the mind. You tried to let yourself give in. You wanted to tell yourself it wasn’t a big deal, that only a tiny table of students were there to experience the invisible bullying, that it could have been much worse!

But it hurt looking at him. It reminded you that you weren’t the only person in his life and that he had other friends he’d been around for much longer than he’d known you.

It gave you a reality check that just because you two were soulmates, it didn’t mean you had an advantage. It told you that even though Jisung swore to love his soulmate, he didn’t love you when he didn’t know you were the one.

If you two hadn’t been soulmates, perhaps he would have never cared at all. Did that not defeat the defining feature of love? The choice was there. He didn’t choose you.

“I have something to do,” you muttered. “I’m gonna go.”

You raised the arm opposite to the locker door, and he subconsciously leaned his head toward it. But you only reached over to close your locker, slowly revealing that your other hand was occupied with books.

“Oh hey. I didn’t think you’d be up here today,” Felix greeted when he saw you emerge from the rooftop door.

He sat up from trying to nap on the floor, his eyes squinted to avoid the sun. You approached him sluggishly and sat down, dropping your books by your hip. He raised a brow curiously as you leaned back onto your arms and sighed like you’d walked a mile.

“Did the interview happen early?” he asked. “You look horrible.”

“Thanks. I’m confident I will do well,” you replied. “I’m feeling the jitters.”

He raised a brow for a moment before he mirrored your action and put his face under the sun, feeling its warmth. “Those statements contradict each other.”

“I’m sure this is the speaking condition I want to have going into an interview,” you said.

He laughed, and you relaxed your shoulders. You sometimes forgot Jisung wasn’t the only person who could alleviate your stress. He was merely the first person you thought to go to. Over these past few weeks, you have become good friends with Felix, and he shares your burdens and even knows of the past you never told Jisung.

Things would have been different if you had come to the roof first. His sunny disposition could also be what you needed.

“Do you think I’ll do well?”

Felix opened an eye to peer at you. He hummed thoughtfully for show before he replied, “I don’t know. These things are unpredictable, but I really hope you will.”

“See, Jisung would have told me I would do so well, but they would be stupid not to accept me.”

“But I’m not him. That’s why you came up here to find me,” Felix said. “My response was different than his, wasn’t it?”

You opened your eyes and hunched forward, leaving the sun in your shadow. From how he sounded, he wasn’t upset that you’ve considered him a second option. You felt guilty, nonetheless, because you cared about him a lot. You never wanted him to feel less as a friend in any capacity.

“I swear nothing gets past those detective skills,” you said, looking at him as he enjoyed the sun. You stayed silent momentarily before suddenly speaking, “I’m glad you’re here to help me, Felix.”

He grinned, finally opening his eyes and raising his brows at you. “It’s no problem.”

“I see you’ve cut your hair,” you said, gesturing to your head. “I thought your blonde hair was natural when you first told me you moved here from Australia.”

“It is,” he said. “They wouldn’t believe me and forced me to dye it black.”

“I don’t believe in you,” you hummed. “You look horrible, too.”

You patted your school uniform as you left the entrance of the universe after politely bidding the receptionist goodbye.

There was no way for you to tell whether you’ve done a great job. The professors’ expressions were reserved as you were speaking to them. Only a smile could be seen when the grueling process was finally over. Now it’s just the gut-wrenching process of waiting for the letter.

You strolled across the campus. When you first arrived, you were in awe of how big it was, and now you just disliked the distance it would take to get out of here.

Gently sighing, you ran the interview over in your head a few times more, finding the conversation different each time as you falsified your memories to shine a negative light on yourself, all so you could force down the hope of acceptance in yourself.

You believed in your opinion of how you did, which was downright horrible. It wasn’t a good feeling to distrust your ability, but you figured it would be worse when the rejection letter came in, and you thought you had a chance, so you didn’t stop yourself.

After texting your mother and Felix about how things went, you left the chat box and were disappointed that Jisung hadn’t sent you anything since lunch. He shouldn’t have to, but you thought he would.

After several hours of not thinking about him and what happened, you were much less angry than you were. Besides, you wanted to talk to him about the interview. You convinced yourself to feel bad about how you did and wanted him here for support.

Pausing your feet, you clicked his name and stared at the chat box. You typed something, deleted it, retyped something else, and deleted it again. What should you say? That you forgave him? That you were sorry for making something out of nothing? That you were done wrestling with your conscience and you were actually his soulmate?

Tears dropped onto the screen, and you wiped them away. You turned the phone off and wiped your eyes with your arm, walking amongst sounds of sniffing and whimpers as you prayed that no college students walk by.

Brushing your uneasy hands together, you blinked away the tears and stopped momentarily again when you saw a familiar figure standing at the entrance arch of the campus. He caught sight of you, too, and reluctantly raised his arm to wave at you.

You hiccuped in question but began to walk toward him. Jisung’s face slowly came into view the closer you approached. Eventually, you were close enough for him to see that you had been crying.

He pursed his lips, his hands curling and uncurling. “It went that bad?”

His soft voice hit your heart and squeezed your tear ducts. You cried, giving frantic nods in between. “I thought I was gonna die.”

“It went that bad,” he muttered. “I’m so sorry.”

“You keep saying that, but–“you hiccupped–“I don’t–I don’t believe you.”

His heart dropped. You weren’t talking about school or the interview anymore. You were talking about him.

He didn’t know what to do. You have a comeback for everything he said and one for everything he planned to say. It didn’t occur to him that maybe not saying anything was the best thing to do, but there were many wordless ways to reconcile besides—he exhaled nervously.

There was one way. He doubted you’d like it.

He gently pulled at your wrist and brought you toward him. He hugged you loosely. His skin was warm, and so was yours, but you felt hotter than anything because of the sobbing. The shape of his body was not extraordinary; he was like every teenage boy, and most of them were not athletic. His hands were careful, as they should be, in an attempt to comfort.

There wasn’t anything to him, but this was your first hug with someone your age, someone you liked.

It was impressive, to say the least, how easy it was for you to drop yourself at his hands entirely.

“I’m…” he closed his mouth and hugged you tighter. “I was a coward.”

You pressed your mouth to his shoulder and hugged him back, tears sticking his shirt to his skin. Your cries were muffled, but even without that, they were quieter and contained within the peripheral of his hearing.

“You hurt me.” Your nails dug into his back. Your soul mark pressed across his spine. “You hurt me.”

“Yes.” He bit the inside of his lower lip to avoid apologizing and to stop the sound of tears cleanly falling down his cheeks. “I will never do that again.”

You could hear him cry. He couldn’t hide his sadness if his life depended on it. You wished you stood your ground longer, but torturing him was never your intention, and it was for the first time you believed he meant everything he said. He’s sorry, and he’ll never do it again.

“Do you want to have dinner somewhere?” you asked after you pulled away. “I’m starving.”

“Actually,” his voice was strained as he threw himself off his train of thought, “all of us are heading over to Jiae’s home for dinner and a sleepover. “

You furrowed your brows. “That's sudden.”

“It’s actually not.” He scratched the back of his head. “Seungmin shit-talked us into apologizing to you, and we thought this would be a good opportunity.”

“He should have spoken up when it was happening,” you said.

"I know. He must have his reasons not to.” Jisung said. "But can you come along anyway? I'd love it if you will. You can get to know my friends. They’re not all bad, I promise.”

You sighed. If he opened his mouth to ask, how would you refuse? He could be right. It may require some getting used to before they let you blend into their friend group. You also had a bad first impression of Jisung, and you gave him a chance. You could do that for his friends.

"Can we get something to drink first?”

"Of course," he said. “It’s my treat. Tell me everything about the interview.”

“Ugh, don’t even remind me,” you groaned, taking impatient steps forward.

He laughed at your eagerness, his hand slowly gliding down until it met yours. Your fingers were loosely interlaced. It was timid and tender, like hugging a ticking bomb. You went on about the interview, what they asked, how the professors were, and how you replied to their questions.

Slowly and carefully, your fingers were wholly locked together. Neither of you minded.

Spin the Bottle is a better game than Truth or Dare.

Truth or dare engages people in dense, involuntary acts and unconvincing lies that people have to spring up on the spur of the moment. Spin the bottle serves a chance that it might never land on you. Even if it did, so what? A kiss on the cheek will always suffice.

You kept repeating it in your head as you sat in a circle of unfamiliar people. Jiae insisted that you sit beside her despite her friends sending you uncomfortable glances.

Jisung, who sat across from you, shared a pointed look with you before the game started that asked if you wanted him to step in and pull you out of your position.

You had shook your head. The tension was awkward enough when you showed up, and his desperate vouch for you made it worse when his friends verbally questioned your presence. You didn’t want to make it worse by refusing to sit where you were wanted.

In retrospect, you should have thought this through. All you did all night was rub your arms and feel out of place. Jisung could try to include you, but he also has to engage with his friends and could never be at two places at once.

You had gobbled your dinner so you could hide in the kitchen, where you had a decent conversation with Seungmin, who admitted that he should have spoken up at the cafeteria this afternoon but also did not feel bad that he didn’t. You appreciated he stood by his decision. You thought you two could become friends because of it.

Annoyed groans ensued after a round of Jisung frantically smooching Hyunjin’s cheek. People who enjoyed the game were always the most boring to observe, but even you couldn't help but breathe out a giggle or two at their over-exaggerated action.

After the two lovebirds were finished, Hyunjin reached out to turn the water bottle. It landed on Seungmin, who rolled his eyes when his friends whistled and hollered.

He got down from the couch and reached over to turn the water bottle. You focused on it intently, watching as it slowed to a halt and realizing that the tip of the bottle was pointed directly at you.

You opened your mouth and attempted to scoot off to the side. "Oh, I think it is pointing at you, Jiae."

“What? No, it’s not.” Hyunjin leaned down to the level of the bottle. He opened one eye for accuracy as it shifted between the bottle and you. “Uh-huh. I’m sure it’s on you, [Name].”

You blew air out of your mouth, your eyes widening awkwardly. Talk about speed-running a friendship. You just introduced yourselves to each other in the kitchen, and you openly accused him of keeping silent when you were being picked on while he explained it by telling you he didn’t really care when it was happening.

Looking over at Jisung, you saw that he was suppressing a giggle, gesturing to his friend and whispering inside jokes you would never understand. You shuddered when you caught his eyes while he shrugged, hardening his gaze at you mischievously.

Upon the silence, Jiae gigged as she waved at Seungmin.

“I know you’re not being shy,” she said. “Or do you just not want to kiss them?”

“You’re right,” Seungmin replied monotonously. “I don’t want to kiss them.”

Your jaw dropped with a disdainful scoff. His expression was valid, but you didn’t like that he said it first.

“I don’t want to kiss you either. I barely know you,” you retorted. “You’re not all that, Kim Seungmin.”

“Where did that even come from?” he questioned with a raised brow. “This can’t be about what I said in the kitchen, can it?”

“What did you say in the kitchen?”

“What if it is?” You both ignored Hyunjin’s question. You leaned forward with a glare, but your lips quirked gradually into a patronizing smirk. “Why does it matter to you? I thought you didn’t care.”

“I didn’t.”

“The conversation would have ended way earlier if that’s true.”

Hyunjin nudged Jisung’s side with his elbow as his eyes darted between you and Seungmin, who were sparking up a lightning line across your glares. Jisung turned to him, equally as confused but intrigued by the conversation differently.

Hyunjin was here for gossip. Jisung wanted to know when you even had a conversation with Seungmin and what you guys talked about that was enough to allow you two to argue like this—

“Dude,” Hyunjin giggled under his breath, “this is the beginning of every rival to lovers story.”

—like you two had chemistry together.

Seungmin pursed his lips in silence as he accessed your furrowed brows. Next to you was Jiae, whose fingers uncontrollably tapped against her crossed legs impatiently.

If there was anything he knew, he was in better standing with you than with her because of all the accusations he threw at the friend group this afternoon after Jisung left the table.

She was making an attempt to single you out and humiliate you. You were trying to put him down out of a personal grudge. He disliked you less than he couldn’t care about her.

Most importantly, he wanted to spite you both.

“I’ll kiss you,” he said. “Actually, I’ll kiss you on the mouth because I don’t care.”

You widened your eyes and stuck your tongue to your inner cheek, a chuckle of disbelief vanishing when you watched him get up from the couch to walk toward you. He never struck you as someone who would care about his first kiss, or a kiss. You couldn’t imagine someone like him having a first kiss already.

You wanted to move out of the way or to verbally protest, but the competitive spirit in your heart told you to go through with it so you wouldn’t be some big loser.

You glared at him when he crouched in front of you, leaning away from his hand when he tried to hold your face. “Are you serious?”

Seungmin smirked triumphantly, his nose scrunching. “Scared?”

“Who’s scared?”

“You are.”

“I’m–“ you pursed your lips and exhaled. “I’m not. I just–“

Before you finished your sentence, he leaned in to plant a peck on your cheek, causing you to gasp. Your hand automatically flew up to grip his wrist, a flushing heat spread over your face when he leaned away and met eyes with you. The hair on your neck rose at the unexpected occasion, and if you weren’t so appalled, you would have noticed the tint of red on his ears.

Jisung's initial playfulness was partially gone when you and Seungmin were bantering. It has completely vanished now that the deed was done. At his angle, he wasn’t sure if his friend really kissed you on the mouth, and your reactions gave him no benefit of the doubt.

He rolled the inside of his bottom lip over his front teeth; grind, pull, grind, pull. There was a knot in his stomach he couldn’t loosen and frustration in his fists he couldn’t uncurl. When the stare you and Seungmin shared prolonged for over a few seconds, he forced himself to look down at his lap.

He hadn’t realized it, but all that crossed his mind was that he was being close. Seungmin was being too close to you. It was out of his comfort zone. He wanted to get between you and laugh him away.

“Jisung! Spin the bottle!"

He snapped out of his thoughts. Seungmin returned to his seat on the couch, and you looked at him curiously. Everyone was looking at him, but you were the only face he cared to decipher.

Hesitantly, he reached out and turned the bottle. His heart beats with every turn, flickering with prayers that it lands on you. Not just because he wanted to kiss you but also because he couldn’t fathom kissing anyone else.

Miraculously, the tip of the bottle landed on you again. There was a gentle uproar in the circle as Jisung’s visibly perked up. In his head, he had already crawled over to you and pressed his lips against yours. In his dreams, you accepted it.

In his dreams, you were together, love clear, and hearts inter-winded. He always woke up blushing, recalling every moment as he stared at the ceiling until his mother came knocking.

It also plagued him sometimes. He wasn’t sure how he could explain to his future soulmate that he had already fallen in love with someone else.

Your alarmed gaze met his when he searched for you. There was a burn where your soul mark was, and you palmed over it uneasily. When Seungmin spun the bottle, you didn’t particularly cared if he kissed you outside of the conditioned value that a kiss was meant between lovers. But with Jisung—he’s too important.

This would be the closest you have ever been with each other. His lips on your skin. It could not happen because of some stupid game. It could not be dictated by a sleepover activity you didn’t want to participate in.

“[Name]! Can you change out the water bottle? It’s been squeezed so much it doesn’t even turn that well anymore,” Jiae requested quickly when she noticed Jisung getting up. She moved to the center, grabbed the plastic bottle, and handed it to you. “Here. You’re such a love!”

“Huh? It’s a plastic bottle. You can just blow it back up–" Hyunjin clamped his mouth shut when the girl threw him a threatening smile.

You received the bottle reluctantly but nodded anyway. This was a good reason to escape the game. Without arguing, you stood up and walked out of the living room. Jisung watched your departure with disappointment, his feet pausing into a dejected position. Hyunjin yelped when he dropped his weight on the floor and sulked.

“Why would you do that?”

Jiae, who had sat down with a satisfied expression, tilted her head. “I’m sorry?”

“Why did you do that?” Jisung looked up, frustrated but not rude enough to show his anger. He rubbed his face and dropped his head between his knees, a bored and monotonous hum fleeing his mouth. “I almost had it. You ruined my chance. Seungmin did it and you ruined mine.”

“Jisung?" Hyunjin called gently with a poke to his friend’s arm. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not!” Jisung exclaimed. He let go of his face and sighed. “You’re being rude. You have been rude to [Name] this whole time. Getting puddings, switching out a water bottle. They’re my friend, too!”

Jiae looked startled, as did everyone else. Jisung had never been one to scold. He was always the mediator while the others stepped up to make everything worse. This headstrong side of him has only been brought out by you, back at the library when he accused you and this moment.

Ever since what happened at the cafeteria, there was no chance that Jisung would let that kind of disappointment flash before your eyes again.

“That’s one way to make sure she’ll go to prom with you, Jisung,” someone said.

“I haven’t even asked,” Jisung said. “I don’t think I plan to anymore.”

There was a moment of painful silence. Hyunjin and Seungmin shared a knowing glance with each other, acknowledging that your presence alone might have just ruined the overall atmosphere of their friend group, but their eyes were accepting when they turned to look at Jisung.

If Jisung cared about you this much to break out of his comfort zone, they would do the same.

“Um, I’m not sure if it’s okay, but I got a different type of water bottle.” You entered the living room again to be welcomed by a dreadful quietness. Glancing at Jisung questioningly, you decided to stand by the door and wait it out.

Jiae rolled her eyes and scoffed. Scrambling onto her feet, she brushed past you to leave the living room. “Whatever, I'm heading to bed. You guys can have the guest room."

You made space as her friends scooted past you, leaving you bewildered. Last time you checked, it only took you a minute to get a new water bottle, not half an hour. Hyunjin and Seungmin got up, too, the taller boy dragging his friend along and bidding you a cheerful farewell before disappearing into the hallway.

"Nothing happened," Jisung replied without your need to ask.

“Okay.” You eyed him suspiciously as he approached you. “I'm gonna head back home then."

"What? No, stay,” he said, gesturing upstairs. “We're all sleeping in the guest room.”

“Your friends–“

“Would love to get to know you too.”

You pursed your lips and shook your head. There must be a limited number of beds in the guest room, if there wasn’t just one. You would not be comfortable sleeping with strangers and weren’t sure if you were ready to be so close to Jisung. Your odd presence would mess up the sleeping arrangement, so you’d rather leave peacefully.

“I’ll sleep in the living room. You go hang out with your friends,” you said. “This is a sleepover. Go and have fun. Besides, it’s the best chance for you to ask Jiae to prom right now.”

Jisung opened his mouth to protest, but you interrupted him by pushing him back and getting him out of the living room.” Don’t make this more complicated than it has to be. I’ll stay here, I promise. You will see me in the morning.”

He pouted, looking at you as he took a few steps back. He stopped by the staircase, his hand holding onto the railing in hopes that you would change your mind at the last minute, but you only shooed him away with your arms.

"I'll be fine. I have the couch all to myself," you said. "Go have a nice girl talk."

You shut the door between the hallway and the living room and turned around to face the empty area. With a tired sigh, you moved over to your bag and got out your essentials, preparing to start your nighttime routine alone.

Jisung had woken up in the middle of the night. His groggy eyes adjusted slowly to the dim light outside the window before he stood up and carefully stepped over his friends who slept on the floor. He put his arms out to feel for the walls and any obstacles as he headed for the kitchen to get a well-deserved glass of water.

Opening the door to the living room, his eyes trailed from the dining table to the couch, and it hit him that you had chosen to sleep on the couch. He tilted his head to the side, his thirst for water disappearing as he approached your sleeping figure instead. The floor beneath him was cold, but the edge of the couch where you lay wasn’t.

He knelt at the side, his arms flat against the soft surface with his chin on top.

Your peaceful face was one of the things he loved about you. You were utterly unguarded and unaware. Sometimes, he thought the only time you weren’t angry was when you were asleep, and he wished things were different. He wished nothing bad ever happened to you.

Reaching out to gently trace the back of his finger against your cheek, his eyes admired your features every step before they landed on your arm.

The sleeve of your sweater was scooted up loosely around your wrist, threatening to reveal the soul mark you had once desperately hidden from his sight. You hid it from him for a reason, and he would have otherwise respected your wishes if curiosity didn’t get the best of him.

Observing your stillness, his hand timidly moved to grab hold of the fabric and pulled it up your forearm. The long sentence began to reveal itself. He angled his head to look at the words better.

tell me baby you're the happiest when you're with me right

Jisung inhaled, and his breathing stilled. He told you that. That was the first thing he has ever said to you. It was the exact line.

He’s the one. He is your soulmate.

He is yours.

Your eyes were opened when Jisung turned to look at your face. You had been awake ever since you felt the gentle touch on your cheek, but you were too late to have stopped him from reading your mark.

You trembled, expecting Jisung to show you anger or at least something akin to frustration. But he only held your gaze under the soft light.

"I'm your soulmate,” he whispered.

You nodded, and your voice was equally quiet. “Yeah.”

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I didn’t think you’d love me.”

Jisung sighed heartbrokenly. How could you still think after all the conversations you’ve had?

Wordlessly, he got onto his knees and leaned over so his face could get close to yours. Your eyes were getting hazy at the proximity, and you couldn’t do anything but wait for him. He took the initiative, mostly because he felt like if he didn’t take the chance to kiss you right now, he would regret it later.

You closed your eyes as soon as you felt the soft surface of his lips touch yours. The next few seconds as Jisung pressed himself up against you were pure ecstasy, the blossomed longing in his chest withering into fallen petals before the breeze blew them toward you.

Your hands found their way to his neck, pulling him down as you sunk against the pillow. The background had dissolved into a shade of white. It was only the two of you, sharing an intimate moment on the couch with the dim moonlight shining at the end of your legs as if it was shyly glancing away from Jisung’s wandering hands and your delighted expression.

Jisung was short of breath when his hands went from your hips to your hair. He hadn’t even recognized it until he found himself laying his entire weight down on your body in exhaustion, feeling your heart beat in line with his.

He wouldn’t have known. Your lips were like oxygen, and he couldn’t tell if he was breathing when he kissed you. He gently angled his face to take your bottom lip, pressing tight for a long moment before pulling away, resisting the temptation to dive in again when he saw your eyes.

You two didn’t speak. There wasn’t a need to say any words. Your actions had conveyed pretty much everything you needed to know about him and him about you.

Refusing to leave, Jisung laid his head on your shoulder, the warmth of your body giving him complete solace. He found himself never wanting to leave this position.

He had known all along the feeling he held for you. He wouldn’t have debated his feelings for you and how they conflicted with his future soulmate if he didn’t know. It took a slight push for him to finally bring it to light.

Jisung smiled a little at the thought of having a sacred bond between you and him, and he would be eternally amazed at how miraculous it was.

Despite not knowing the truth, the link had brought you two together anyway. It pulled him towards you and made him feel things he had never felt. He didn’t need to know his soulmate to love them; he had been right before. He couldn’t imagine never being in love with you.

You woke up earlier than everyone else and slowly slipped out of the couch, leaving Jisung sound asleep. You moved quick, getting ready in the bathroom and sneaking back to the living room to pack your things and leave with a small note stuck to the tea table.

But Jisung was a step ahead of you, his eyes big and round as he greeted you from the couch, his lips pursing into an excited grin.

You melted, offering him a faint smile. “Hey, Jisung. I’m going to head back home, so I’ll see you in school, okay?”

Jisung sat up with a pout. “Why? Did your mom call?”

“Uh, sure,” you replied.

“Oh,” he nodded as he exited the couch, “I’ll come with you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you said.

“It’s Saturday. We can hang out!” he exclaimed, rubbing his head. “And, you know, I can meet your mom.”

“What? That’s so–“ you laughed as you aggressively zipped your bag. “You’re funny!”

He squinted his eyes. He thought he was hallucinating because he was groggy, but there was something off about you. When you threw your bag over your shoulder, he reached out to hold your hand and pulled you back.

“Hold on, what’s wrong?” he asked. “You’re off.”

“Off to go home! Yes, I am!”

“[Name].”

“Okay, fine.” You sighed. “It’s nothing. I’ve always been like this. You’re you, and I’m me.”

You wouldn’t look at him in the eyes. Judging by your impulsive actions and the lack of bashfulness, he knew this was about what happened yesterday night.

“You’re pushing me away,” he said, his voice sounding like alarm bells. “You’re freaked out.”

“Jisung, I'm not pushing you away," you muttered. “We're still friends.”

“You kissed me back,” he pointed out in disbelief. “Your arms were around my neck. I was on top of you. We made out.”

You gulped at the thought of that. It had been going on rewind in your head the whole morning. Even now, as you looked at Jisung, you felt your gaze gravitating towards his lips.

“I’m not ready, Jisung,” you whispered. “I can’t do it now.”

“Okay.” He nodded, his voice much softer. “But it meant something. It meant something to you?”

"Yeah, I guess," you muttered. "But you–"

“You are very worried about me.”

"You don't love me, Jisung," you whispered. “You love me because we're soulmates.”

That wasn’t true, but telling you that wouldn’t suddenly change your point of view. Otherwise, Jisung wasn’t sure if there was anything he could say to convince you that he was wholeheartedly in love with you.

You licked your lip and pulled away from him. “I'll see you at school,”

The softness of your voice pierced a hole in his heart, but he told himself to be patient. The time will come when he knows what to say, which will surely make you change your mind and believe that someone could love you.

When he finally crossed through your barrier, and you finally let him all the way in, he could never let you go again.

Things have changed. You two continued to hang out after school, having dinner in a different restaurant every day and chatting away as you would. But occasionally, a moment of dreadful silence would send the back of your hair raising.

You hated it as much as you hated the prom proposal you were witnessing.

Standing at the corner of the cafeteria where the entrance doors were, your deadpan eyes watched as everyone stopped to watch the public proposal unfold. No one questioned when Jisung stepped up on the table with empty hands as if they had expected this to happen at some point.

There were no banners, flowers, speakers, or microphones. It was him and his voice alone. You were certain half of your annoyance came from seeing his bare minimum.

Jiae playfully shoved her friends as they pushed her forward, making her stand close to the table. She looked up at Jisung expectantly, and Jisung looked unfocused and nervous. It took a harsh shove from his Seungmin and a sharp glare thrown toward you for him to snap out of his trance.

Jisung crouched suddenly, facing Seungmin, who rolled his eyes in return.

Jisung ran a hand through his hair, a grimace on his face. ”Is it necessary? They probably hate public proposals like this.”

“Listen, they are standing all the way over by the doors. Either way, you're going to have to yell for them to hear you," Seungmin pointed out, nudging his head toward the direction you were in.

“So none of us care that Jiae stepped up alone?” Hyunjin asked shakily as he pushed himself closer to Seungmin, occasionally peeking behind Jisung’s shoulder.

Seungmin raised a fist and put it down when Jisung habitually leaned away. He stepped up, leaning over to speak in Jisung's ear.

“If you want things to return to the way they were, you have to try,” he said, then shrugged. “Either you ask them to prom, or I will.”

"Or I will!” Felix chimed in, “We’ve become pretty good friends. They will go to a friendly prom with me!”

Jisung exhaled deeply. Seungmin was right. He has to properly announce his feelings for both of your sake. You needed to hear from him that he loves you, all business and no jokes.

“Yeah.” He looked off to the side and nodded. “You guys are insufferable. I love you both.”

Seungmin flinched and shook the words off his chest while Hyunjin grinned and sent Jisung flying kisses as he stood up to be in the spotlight.

“[Name],” Jisung started, his voice echoing throughout the room. He looked over to the side, to where you were standing. When you flashed him a reluctant smile of encouragement, his heart clenched. He didn’t look away as he spoke. “Will you go to prom with me?”

You gasped along with the rest of the students, your eyes widening in shock. His proposal prompted everyone else to stare at you. It was embarrassing. You could only curse, duck your head, and spin to leave the cafeteria.

The crowd hollered in disappointment and hilarity at your reaction. Jisung panicked and jumped off the table, tipping over and barely catching himself when he landed on the ground. He shifted past a sea of people laughing at his face and welcomed the fresh air outside the cafeteria. He ran, turning corners and racing down hallways before he caught up to you.

You could hear the door to your empty classroom burst open harshly and rapid footsteps following behind. You spun around, glaring at him with a heavy frown. It was still baffling that he would do something outrageous, knowing how much you hated the attention. Still, you were more mad at him for the indirect confession than the crowd.

“What was that? We had a plan!"

“No, you had a plan, and I had a plan of my own,” Jisung said, marching up to you. He halted to a stop when he was of considerable distance, and he took a dramatic breath.

This was the moment for him to change everything. This has to work.

“I love you. I really do. I don’t know how else I can express that besides being straightforward. Just because you don’t believe me or don’t want to believe me does not make my feelings any less true. I can’t read your mind, I don’t know how you feel, but I know that you’re denying my feelings because you don’t think you’re good enough for me, which isn’t a call for you to make. I choose what is best for me

“And fine, maybe I wouldn't have loved you if we weren't soulmates. But you are my soulmate, and I do love you now. Actually, if anything, your lack of trust in me is invalidating and demeaning. It upsets me! You upset me!”

His voice sounded as if he had bottled up many emotions inside. He wasn’t sticking to the script his friends made for him anymore. He was going to pour his heart out to you, and his heart told him he was pretty angry.

You blinked at the increasing grit in his voice. It felt familiar. He called you out once like this; that was the beginning of your friendship. You let your guard down back then because you liked him, and no matter how much you tried to cover your eyes, you could see it was the best decision you’ve made.

“This is your master plan?” you muttered. “To yell at me?”

“What, no. I’m not yelling at you. I don’t want to yell at you.” His eyes rounded as he waved his hands in disagreement. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

His pleading eyes made you scoff, but there was laughter in them like you couldn’t stand him in the most endearing way possible.

His shoulders shuddered when you reached for his hands and carefully closed the gap between your feet.

“This is a chance,” you said. “I’m still not entirely ready for this.”

It took him a moment. When he realized you mailed him an acceptance letter, he squeezed your hands and nodded. “We’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, relief flushing over your chest upon his familiarity, like closing the last page of a long book. You’ve missed his stillness and his presence overall. You’re glad you got to have him back so quickly.

"I'm not going to prom," you said.

"It's okay,” he said. “We can stay home. We can turn on fairy lights and be cliché together."

“As if falling in love with your soulmate isn’t cliché enough,” you snorted with a slight eye roll while Jisung scrunched his nose at how casually you talked about you both.

“Speaking of soulmates,” he said. “You haven't given me an answer yet.”

You tilted your head. “To what?”

Jisung pulled at your sleeve to reveal your soul mark before he turned to look at you, a smirk on his face. "Tell me, baby. You’re the happiest when you're with me, right?”

“Goodbye.” You rolled your eyes, giving him a light shove before spinning on your heels and walking away.

Jisung giggled, catching up to you again and again. Judging by how you smiled as he interlocked your hands, the answer was crystal clear without needing words.

You were both very sure that you were happiest when you were with Han Jisung.

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songsofadelaide · 1 year ago

Text

Satoru loves having you around whenever he visits Megumi and Tsumiki in their apartment. The kids adore you more than they let on, after all. He loves the fact that they quickly warmed up to you, especially Megumi, who's known to be such a prickly child.

But what Satoru loves the most is having you all to himself without the school's watchful eyes on you both. He admits that he gets a little handsy when it's just the two of you on a mission together, not that you ever really minded since you loved him so much.

You were fixing Megumi's bedroom when Satoru slinked over and winked at you. He raised a finger to his lips, beckoning you to maintain your silence as he coiled his arms around you and drew you into a warm kiss.

And you nearly lost yourself in that kiss, too, your own arms wrapping around his neck—

"Gojo-san, I need your help."

If there was a world record for dismantling a kiss, you'd probably set the record. You couldn't help but look down at your lap in embarrassment while Satoru rose from his seat across you to approach Megumi, whose hand was still on his door.

"What do you need help with?"

"Why is your face all red?" Came the question from the young boy. You couldn't see his face but you knew from the sound of his voice that he must have a little grimace on. "Please don't do any perverted stuff in my room."

"Okay, that's enough, wise guy. Why don't we..." Satoru stated as he closed the door behind him, the click of the doorknob resonating in the room. In your hands was one of Megumi's half-folded shirts and oh, my gosh, what was I thinking? Was I really about to make out with Satoru here? In Megumi's bedroom?!

When you visited the following week, Megumi was helping you fold his clothes in his room this time, a rather pensive expression on his face as he asked you, "Do you two always do that?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Kissing."

That wasn't exactly the most surprising question. Megumi has always been a precocious child who knew far too much for his young age. "O-Oh, well... Not really always. Satoru was just being silly, for the most part."

The blue-eyed boy cocked his head as he turned to you. "And you don't do it with other people?"

"No, I don't. I can only kiss Satoru because he's my most favourite person in the world," you replied to his question with a little shake of your head and a small smile on your face. "I'm sure you'll find that person, too, Megumi-kun. The one you'll want to kiss forever. Perhaps not now, but sometime in the future."

The two of you looked up in surprise when you heard the bedroom door creak open but no one was there.

Satoru had a strange spring in his step on your way back to campus. He held your hand, his grip both tight and tender, and you curled your fingers around his digits to hold him right back.

An excited grin made its way to your lips as you spotted the familiar glint of light from a convenience store. "Oh, Toru, while we're here, do you think I can grab some snacks to share with Shoko, Kento and Kiy—"

As you turned your face in his direction, you were met with his lips suddenly on yours and very little resistance to your favour.

"T-Toru!—"

Satoru stole the grin from your face, his eyes concealed under his sunglasses but you knew exactly how they vanished into his smile. "Grab whatever you want, it's on me. Anything for my most favourite person in the world."

#songsofadelaidewrites💛#mari's prompts 🎠#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #starry divider by @/cafekitsune #how very juvenile delinquent lol

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 days ago

Text

Running To You

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, control, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Sister series to Just What I Needed

Summary: You're rescued by a man who you don't even know is a real hero.

Characters: nomad Steve Rogers

Note: a stressed out steve rogers plus a cutie. it bloomed from the theory of Steve's beard being a symbol of his darker side, or a darker state of mind. In the wat that he would usually pride himself on a neat appearance but lets himself go a bit when he's not at his best.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stumble up over the curb as you check the list on your phone. Oops, you should really look where you're going. You steady yourself and giggle at your own clumsiness. For how precise your inventory is, the rest of you is a bit of a clutter.

You dodge through the onslaught of pedestrians and apologise a deep 'hey, lady' thunders through at you. You quickly dip into the store and shield yourself with the door. You gasp and catch your breath, smiling at the associate nearest to you. The organic shop probably isn't the most exciting place to shop but it has most of the ingredients you need. Raw honey, tallow wax, essential oils...

You greet them with a small wave and 'hi' and turn to look at the shelves along the wall. They don't acknowledge you. Most people don't, not that you mind. You keep to yourself.

The door jingles and another customer enters. They pause by the door and look around. They might be lost. It's not unusual for one more person to wander in but usually they don't stay long.

He clears his throat and you do your best to focus on your list. You're going to need a basket. As you go to grab one from the stack, the man faces you. You shy away and stop short of latch onto one of the mesh baskets.

"Excuse me, miss," he holds up a familiar item; a red wallet with white polkadots. It's yours! "I think you dropped this."

"Oh, my, I did," you give a sheepish smile to his chest. He's an awfully big man. "Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem," he hands it over.

You accept it and hold it to your chest. You give a tiny shimmy, "thank you so so much!"

You dare to look up and meet his eyes. They're blue but reticent. He scratches his beard as he nods and backs up.

"I think I'm in your way," he grabs one of the baskets and offers it to you.

"Oh, no, but yes, thank you, I need one," you take it.

"Mm, yeah," he smooths out the tuft in his beard that he was pulling on. The hair is thick and coarse; the locks on his head are just as dense, pushed back away from the face, though his chin-length strands try to droop past his ears.

You put your head down and turn back to the shelves. He lingers, seemingly lost as he looks around. What's the odds that in a city like this someone would do something so nice? You look at the list again then peek over at him. He squints at a jar of sourdough starter.

"What do you use in your beard?" You ask then cover your mouth. "I'm sorry, that's not... polite, is it?"

He shrugs, "hm, I just use shampoo, I guess. Face wash?"

"Right. Well, it's pretty shiny." You scrunch up your face. "I'm sorry." You chew your lip in embarrassment. Your cheeks are ablaze. "I'm working on my beard oil. I make it. Um, sell it. But..."

"Beard oil," he repeats thoughtfully. "I don't... I guess maybe I should."

He touches his beard again, a crease between his brows.

"I don't meant to-- I... I'm not... it's cute. I mean. Suits you. I was just--" you show your teeth nervously. "I don't have a beard so..."

"Yeah," he agrees awkwardly and tucks his hair back behind his ears before it can fall forward.

"I ramble..." you drift off and face the shelves again. "I'll stop bothering you."

He inhales and backs up. He turns to the door then stops. You sense his gaze.

"It's a bit busy. Rush hour," he says. "You don't mind if I hide in here with you?"

You glance over. You shrug. "Um, yeah, sure. It's not my store. Not sure how interesting it is."

You fumble between the basket and your phone. You hum and scour the shelves with your eyes, scrunching your nose in concentration. He comes closer.

"What are you looking for?" He asks.

"Soybean oil."

"Soybean oil," he nods. "For..."

"Soap," you cheep.

"Ah. In my day, ma just used fat and lye."

You give his statement a thought. You've seen some recipes from way back. Like long ago. Almost a hundred years now. A lot of people prefer the gentler ingredients.

"Oh, that's cool that she made her own stuff," you muse as you take a canister and tap your spreadsheet to mark off that item.

"Yeah," you feel him trying to see the screen. "You're really organized."

"Can't forget anything," you say.

"Sure." He lurks and looks around before he focuses on you again. "I'm Steve, by the way."

You look at him. He's just as big as the last time you looked. His blue eyes seem uncertain. He can't be afraid of someone like you. You give your name.

"Nice to meet, you, Steve."

"You too," he agrees. "Can I help?"

"Oh, sure. What do you prefer? Rose or Gardenia?"

"Rose is nice," he says.

"I agree," you say and pluck up the small bottle.

"You said you sell stuff?"

"Sure do," you chime. You tuck the bottle into the basket. "You know, you don't have to pretend to care."

"What? I... I'm curious."

You eye him, "well, Steve, I'll believe you, but there's not much to be curious about."

His brows furrow, not so much in agitation, but intrigue. "The beard oil. How much?"

"Oh, you know, I could get you a sample from my hoard. Since you got me my wallet back. You don't have to do all that."

"I want to. I think you right," he runs his hands over his beard. "Needs a bit of taming."

You laugh, "looks good to me. Oh, you can try coconut oil. It's real easy and you can use it in your hair too."

"Coconut oil," he says. "I'll add it to the list. What about yours?"

"Soy wax," you look at your list. "I can use that for lots of things."

He lifts his heads, shoulders wide and straight, looking around on a mission. He strides around the rack behind him and you watch him search a shelf. He picks up two jars. He comes back to you. "Which do you prefer?" He holds up to two different sellers. You take the one in his left hand.

"Thank you," you grin.

"Next," he looks down at your phone.

"Jeez, you sure are helpful," you check again.

"They sell wicks. I need the long ones. Like this." You hold the basket and phone at a length.

He nods again, "on it."

You point him to the corner where they keep the candlemaking stuff and you go back to your own search. He's too quick for you. He has a hole bunch in hand. You have him put half in your basket and he takes the rest back.

Huh, looks like you made a friend.

🎀

Steve holds the door for you. It's so nice you thank him for what must be the dozenth time since you met. Maybe only even an hour ago.

As you get outside, you turn back to him, certain to keep away from the pedestrians who pay no heed to obstacles. "I can take that bag too."

He looks down as the door shuts behind him. "Pretty heavy," he says.

"Oh, I always do that. I forgot my little rolly bag," you shrug. "I can handle it."

"Wouldn't feel right letting you carry it all. Mrs. Rogers didn't raise a punk."

"Is that your mom? I bet she's nice too," you say. "It's alright, Steve. You've done enough. I owe you. My wallet would've been gone with the wind and I never coulda bought all this."

He stares at you, then once more peeks down at the fabric bag. You always bring the reusable; they're much stronger than the paper ones supplied in-store. He chews his lower lip.

"If you owe me, well, you wanna have a coffee? Together?" He asks.

You blink. That's so nice of him too.

"Coffee?" You press your lips together. You feel bad saying no. Not that you want to. It wouldn't be so bad to have someone to sit with. For once. "I don't drink it."

He nods, "tea? Hot chocolate? Water?"

You laugh.

"I'll have a cookie," you offer. "Um," you look up and down the street. "Where..."

"I saw a place. Never been in. Wanna give it a try?"

"Oh, cool. Yeah. I love new places, even if they're scary," you say.

"Here," he takes the other bag from your hands before you can argue. "It's a block back."

"Wait, Steve! I can carry that."

"Not if I'm around," he insists, "come on."

He rolls his shoulder in a gesture for you to follow. You huff and hop into motion. You walk next to him, wary of the oncoming people along the sidewalk. A man nearly bowls you over and you knock into Steve's elbow.

"Oof, I'm sorry."

"Get on the inside of me, doll," he says. "Used to be that people took their hat off when they passed a lady. Now they don't care if... well... you move."

He stops and lets you step across his path. He keeps you between him and the storefronts as he strides on undaunted. You wish you were as brave as him.

"Ah, there it is." He tilts his chin up.

You look ahead. You see the sign sticking out in the shape of a coffee cup.

"Oh, I see it," you hurdle ahead. "My turn."

You pull open the door as he follows. He stops to let another customer out before he enters. You follow him.

"There's a table," he nods.

You follow his gaze to the wall. You lead the way and he trails you. He puts the bags in one of the chairs.

"How about you sit?" He suggests. "What kind of cookie do you want?"

"Oh, Steve, uh," you pull out your wallet, "if they have oatmeal--"

"My treat." He insists.

"You can't do that," you argue.

"You gonna stop me?" He challenges. You gulp and blink at him. You don't think you could stop him from anything. He's quite the figure.

"I guess not." You murmur.

His expression softens, "hey, I'm kidding. I didn't... scare you, did I?"

"N-no," you force a smile. "I appreciate that. Thank you. Oatmeal. That's all."

"Alright. I'll be back." He turns and you see his shoulders rise and fall with a heavy breath.

You sit and jiggle your leg as you look around. You avoid the coffee shops, even the bakeries. They're always so busy. You are methodical in your ventures but today's seems to have gone off the rails. Not in the worst way. One time, you tried to take the subway and ended up lost in the rain.

There's women who look like they could be on a TV show with their fabulous dresses and perfect waves; a man in a suit with his laptop and a single earbud in, and an older couple near the door. There are many others in the line to get a treat of their own.

You turn in the chair and press your palms to the table. You stare at the wood between your hands. You feel the heat speckling over your scalp, that sense of suffocation burrowing into your chest, the voices swirling around you like a raging wind.

"Here," Steve interrupts your internal panic. He places a large cookie before you and mug. "They had this strawberry cream thing. No coffee."

You look at the pink concoction with a dark red swirl in the middle. "Mmmm," you lean forward to admire it. "Wow. It looks good."

He puts his own coffee down and moves the bags under the table. He sits and unzips his jacket to let the tension out of the fabric. You smile and pick up the cookie. You hide behind it.

"I can't eat this alone. It's as big as my face." You giggle.

You break it in two and offer him half. He eyes it for a moment then accepts it with a thanks. You take a bite then round your eyes at him. He's staring. Oh no. Is that rude? You chew and swallow quickly.

"What?" You hide your mouth behind your hand.

"Nothing. It's just..." he glances around the shop. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" You make googly eyes and cross them. "Is there something on my nose?"

He snorts. "No. There's not." He sighs. "Just haven't had a nice quiet coffee in a while. It's nice."

Your brows pop up and you smile big. "I'm sorry I'm not a big coffee person. I tried it once and it made my belly gurgle."

"It's fine. Bad habit," he taps the handle of his mug with his index finger. "Are you gonna try that cup of sugar?"

"Not much better, is it?" You pick up the mug and blow over it. You put your lips over the brim and taste it cautiously. You hum. "Mm," you pull it away. "Delicious! This is a tummy ache worth having."

His cheek dimples as he watches you. You fidget against his gaze. He's nice but you never had anyone stare at you so much.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #running to you #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #marvel #mcu #avengers #captain america

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tender-rosiey · 2 years ago

Text

hinting — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: thank @callmemirro for the bby fever idea but the video of the baby is what fueled the fire even more

you have a feeling that something has been plaguing your husband’s mind. it’s not a bad thing—like that way too expensive pea-sized handbag he wanted to get just to clown it.

it’s actually good and adorable especially with the way it gets him all smiley and bubbly.

you also started to notice when exactly he gets into these moods or rather regarding what.

for example, you were browsing the store once for new clothes. you and satoru agreed to split to search on a wider scale for discounts.

so when he came back, all smiley and excited, you expected a 50% sale or something. instead, you got surprised with possibly the cutest baby pajama ever.

“what do you think, babe? it’s so cute especially the little smiling duck in the middle!”

you take it from him, examining it up close. truthfully, the material is pretty good and it is soft on the skin. there is only one problem though.

you look up to your husband with a smile, “but, honey, we don’t have a baby.”

satoru deflates for a single second before standing up straight, proud, “hey, now! we can always get it for future plans,” he ogles you, but you quickly pinch his nose.

“haha, very funny.” you start pushing the cart towards that one outfit you liked with satoru following close by.

“y/n, I am serious!” he whines as his hand finds home on your waist.

“and I am a dinosaur in disguise.”

he gasps, “really?!”

“no.”

and that happened more than once.

another thing is that satoru has been obsessed with baby videos.

you remember that one time you were chilling on your beloved couch when he came stumbling into the room, clutching his phone and almost dying of laughter, “y/n! y/n! look at this baby!”

satoru is wheezing as he replays the video over and over again. his uncontrollable laughter is music to your ears, but you feel that you’re going to have to take him to a therapist or a mental hospital.

he laughs loudly for sure, but he has been like this for 4 hours, showing you a baby video every minute or so.

you look at him with sympathy as he cackles, “it was so ready to square up too—huh, what’re you doing?”

you pull him into your embrace and he immediately melts, arms wrapping around you in an instant.

you gently rub his back and press a kiss to the top of his head, “my poor baby,” you coo and gojo lights up: have you finally understood what he has been hinting at?

you cup his face and kiss his cheeks, “work must’ve taken quite a toll on you; we can go to the hosp—“

“hey! that’s just mean!”

he huffs moving away and giving you his back, but then he looks back at you, “but the baby was cute, right?”

you laugh, resting your chin on his shoulder, “yeah, in a way, it reminded me of megumi.”

“you’re so right! even as a first-grader, he was so ready to fight anyone.”

another memorable incident happened when you were in a park, taking a walk with your darling husband.

it was peaceful, accompanied by the squeals of children, the coolness of the ice cream, and the comfort of your husband’s presence. speaking of which, where’s that guy?

you look around, searching for a very prominent walking paintbrush. you blink once, twice, and he is finally in front of you with a huge grin, “y/n, look at this cutie pie I just met!”

you soften at the sight of the giggling baby in his arms. the little baby girl reaches out for you and you cradle her in your arms.

cooing at her, you rock gently while making silly faces and it makes her laugh a laugh from her belly. it also makes a certain someone sport the most lovesick smile known to existence.

smiling, you look at your husband, “where did you find her? was she lost?”

your husband sweatdrops and looks to the side, glasses showing off his bright blue eyes, “about that—“

“there he is, officer! he took my baby!”

so yeah, something is up with your husband, and you have had enough with him hiding it from you. god is on your side today as you’re finally able to back him into a corner and finally interrogate him.

“satoru, is there something you want to tell me?” you ask the man, breathless after running around the school for a couple of hours.

silence occupies the room before your husband finally gives in.

he takes a deep breath and hugs you, resting his head on your shoulder, “I want…” he mumbles, “I want a baby, please?”

you are silent for a moment then you make him look you in the eyes, “really?”

“really,” he says, voice unwavering, “I know that it might be scary, but we have experience with tsumiki and megumi, and they turned out just fine!” he starts rambling, “except for megumi, he can be bratty sometimes, but point is!” he holds your hands in his, “I want to start a family with you, but if you don’t want—“

“okay.”

“—to I completely understand and…wait—did you just say okay?”

“yeah,” you beam, “let’s have a baby. you could’ve said that right away, silly.”

he stares at you for a bit, “do you have any idea how LONG I HAVE BEEN—“

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawings @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @mx-0-child @that-mom-friend-dot-com

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #jjk imagines #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x you #gojo satoru #jjk gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo x you #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo fluff #gojo fluff

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froggibus · 10 months ago

Note

🍦- Wally West PLEASE

Something body worship, like reader feels insecure and he reassures them or wally comes back after a mission and thinks reader is just the most gorgeous goddess while they're doing something super mundane like reading on the couch or binging movies

Electric Love - Wally West

Pairing: Wally West x fem! reader (uses fem pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/nsfw, mild angst + hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: when Wally catches you feeling down about yourself about how you look in a bikini, he’s determined to remind you how beautiful you really are

CW: young justice! Wally (but could be read as comic! Wally too), established relationship + you live together, insecurity & body image issues, light emotional break, Wally rips your clothes off hehe, porn with plot, kinda long start sorry, praise, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex (make good choices), creampie, rough sex, mating press

I was so excited to write this one I had brainrot abt it all through work (& made the worlds worst caramel macchiato ever cause I was so distracted) i really really loved both ideas you gave me but to suit the summery vibes i chose the first part! however i WILL be filing away the second part for future use! thanks so much for joining in on the fun <3

this is part of our Summer Suntacular event! come check it out!

You frown as the nylon fabric snaps against your skin with a crack. You tug on the waistband of the bikini bottoms one more time, seeing if this fifth and final time will actually make the red high waisted bottoms look acceptable. It doesn’t.

“No,” you mutter to yourself in the mirror. With a sigh, you slide your hands up to the matching top, shifting the tiny triangles to try and cover the slightest bit more of your skin. “Absolutely not.”

As much as you loved the ruffled, scarlet bathing suit when you’d seen it in the store, you don’t love it nearly as much now that you have it on. The fabric sits awkwardly, digging into your skin and bulging in all the wrong places. You take a deep breath, blinking back tears.

“Walls!” You shout down the hall, forcing your voice to be as steady as possible. “I changed my mind. I’m not going.”

Your boyfriend is at the door in an instant, sliding so fast across the wooden floors that he almost slams into a wall. Bracing himself on the chipped paint of your doorframe, he tilts his head at you.

You hate the way your voice shakes as you try to speak. “I can’t go.”

Wally’s gaze softens as he takes you in completely. From your bikini that’s almost the exact shade of his suit, to the glossy sheen of your eyes that tells him precisely how you’re feeling.

“Baby.” He releases the door from his grip and shuffles slowly—slower than you’ve ever seen him—towards you. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

He stands close behind you, green eyes fixing on yours through the mirror. You flick your eyes down, opting instead to stare at your socks and spare yourself the embarrassment of Wally seeing you this way.

You shift your arms to hide your stomach, as if that will hide the way the bathing suit disfigures you. “I feel awkward.”

“Awkward?”

“I—” The lump in your throat is almost unbearably thick, and as you open your mouth to speak, the floodgates burst open. “I look horrible! It’s so embarrassing, Walls.”

Your knees wobble and you pitch forward, the hard floor beneath you looking so incredibly inviting—but Wally catches you before you can fall. His strong arms pull you to his chest, using his own body to support yours.

“Don’t look!” You sob, “please don’t look.”

He lifts a gentle hand to your cheek, brushing away the fat tears that sizzle their way down your skin. Gone is his usual goofy demeanor, his supportive side shining through.

Wally keeps a firm hold on you while you cry, occasionally using his hand to brush away stray tears. “Let it out, it’s alright,” he murmurs in your ear.

You dig your nails into your palms in an effort to ground yourself, coupling the motion with deep breaths. Wally murmurs praise to you the whole time, embracing you as you come down from your breakdown.

When you’ve finally stopped, Wally brushes away the final tears before they can fall and gently strokes your chin until your eyes meet his in the mirror. He offers you that famous, shining grin—his smile only growing brighter when you give a hesitant one of your own.

“Now,” he says softly, gripping your chin firmly in his calloused fingers. “Why is my girl so down on herself?”

You loose a sigh, glancing at the awkward red fabric still clinging to your body. “It’s just this stupid bathing suit.”

Wally follows your gaze, narrowing his eyes at the clothing as if he could laser it off. He drops his hand from your chin and runs it down your side.

Beneath his touch, electricity crackles, filling your veins with liquid fire. He fixes his hand on your hip, fingertips just barely sliding themselves into your waistband.

“This is what’s giving you so much grief?” His hot breath fans over the side of your neck. “This stupid scrap of fabric?”

Even the air conditioning isn’t enough to stop the heat that follows Wally’s touch. You let your eyes flutter shut, basking in the way his fingertips slip further and further down your bathing suit bottoms.

Your enjoyment is cut short by a sharp tug and a loud ripping sound, snapping you out of your daze. You notice all too late as cold air hits your exposed core and Wally holds up the tattered remains of your bikini bottoms.

“Wally!”

“What?”

You stare slack jawed at the shreds of what was once your bathing suit. “That was expensive…”

As if he can’t hear you, Wally suddenly grabs the centre of your top and rips it clean down the middle. The nylon slips down your shoulders and pools on the floor, leaving you completely naked.

“It was making you upset.” He shrugs. “I’ll buy you a new one, alright?”

“The bathing suit wasn’t the problem…”

“Then what is?” It’s more of a challenge than a question, his green eyes crackling with mischief.

“I—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re the problem.”

You almost laugh at how quickly he cuts you off. You don’t answer him, opting instead to lift your chin and meet his eyes.

He plants a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He kisses the inner part of your shoulder. “I think you forget that sometimes.”

“N-no,” you say shakily, though you’re unsure what part you’re replying to.

“Really?” He exhales, the feeling of his breath on your sensitive, exposed skin making you shiver. His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks next. “Let me show you how pretty you are, baby.”

Wally has you laying on your back in your bed before you can even react, manhandling you with all the care in the world. He cups your face gently, pressing his lips against yours and stealing all your breath away. The familiar, intoxicating scent of citrus and coffee feels your nostrils—peculiar, but unmistakably him.

He pulls away, leaving you out of breath. You can only manage one deep, shaking breath before he’s touching his lips to the centre of your collarbone, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. Your chest flutters in response.

Wally looks up at you, his gorgeous green eyes dark with lust and filled with love—all of it for you. He plants a kiss to the centre of your chest, keeping his eyes on yours as he moves to give a sloppy kiss to each nipple. You swelter under his touch, fireworks exploding in each new place he kisses.

“Pretty, pretty girl,” he coos, kissing his way down your stomach and to your hips. “Fucking beautiful.”

The heat in your core nearly boils over when he makes it to your hips, his tongue swiping across the skin just beneath your tummy. His hands slide to grip at either thigh, separating them to make room for himself in the middle. Despite the heat threatening to consume you, you shiver in anticipation.

Wally looks at you one more time, pure adoration in his gaze, before diving into the aching heat of your cunt. From the first brush of his soft tongue against your throbbing clit, you’re so gone.

“So fucking good,” he mumbles between your legs, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure.

You can’t help but buck your hips, thrusting against his face in a desperate attempt to get more. Wally steadies your wild movements with a heavy hand to your tummy, pressing down till it makes the knot building inside of you impossibly tight. You shut your eyes and grasp desperately at something—anything—to ground you during his relentless assault on your heat.

Wally whines as your fingertips tangle in his hair, but says nothing. He shifts his grip, grabbing your thighs and tossing them over either shoulder. The backs of your knees ache from the sudden stretch, but it’s a welcome distraction from how fucking hot you feel and how fucking good his tongue feels lapping your gushing cunt.

He pulls away for only a second to take a breath before shoving his face further in, his nose bumping against your clit harshly. You suck in a breath, throwing your head back. You’re wound so tightly and everything is so incredibly, impossibly hot, every movement he makes threatens to send you over the edge.

Wally spurs forward, practically suffocating himself in your cunt, and begins tracing circles around your aching hole. His scalp aches from where you tug at his fiery red strands, but you taste so fucking good and you look so goddamn pretty, he’d welcome anything you’d give him right now—even the pain.

He dips his index finger inside of you, and before he even bottoms out, you’re unravelling. You thrash beneath his grasp, the only thing keeping you from seizing violently is his hand holding your stomach. The world around you blurs, tears pricking at your lashes as your cunt spasms and gushes on Wally’s face.

He doesn’t let up as you come, keeping his finger inside to give you something to clench around. His face stays buried in your cunt, gladly accepting all your sweet juices onto his waiting tongue. It’s so hot and so messy, coating his lips and dripping down his cheeks and staining his t-shirt—but he doesn’t care. Not when you taste so good, not when you’re so gorgeous.

It takes nearly a minute for the world to come back to you, and even when it does, it’s still spinning. Your chest rattles with each breath, heart seemingly pounding as fast as Wally runs.

He pulls away from your cunt with the biggest grin on his face, the whole lower half of his face glistening. “Fuck,” he groans, licking his lips. “Fuck, you taste so good.”

Despite your breathlessness, you reach out with a shaky hand to tug at the collar of his shirt, fisting the fabric and pulling him towards you. Wally gladly follows, crashing his lips against yours and slipping his tongue in your mouth.

You’re both breathless, panting from the heat and the friction, and when he pulls away, a sloppy trail of spit connects your mouths.

Wally almost cums right then and there just from how you’re looking at him—lips all puffy and swollen from making out, stars in your teary eyes.

“God, baby, don’t look at me like that.”

You tilt your head at him. “Like what?”

“Like I should fuck you till you can’t think anymore.”

And just like that, the fading fire in your core roars to life once more. “Wally,” you mumble, reaching for him again.

“Say you’ll let me.” He bats his eyes at you. “Say you’ll let me fuck that gorgeous, gorgeous cunt.”

“Please fuck me, Walls.” You look up at him through your lashes. “Please.”

Wally has his pants down to his knees before you’re even done speaking, not even bothering to pull them all the way down. He dips two fingers into your folds, collecting your slick and eagerly rubbing it down his hard length.

You prop yourself up on your elbows just so you can watch as he lines his tip up with your opening. He pushes his hips forwards, the tip of his cock just barely slipping into your cunt. You suck in a breath at the slight ache—his width is always a bit of a shock—and let yourself fall back into the pillows.

Wally gently presses down on your stomach, groaning at the way you clench around his cock as he bottoms out. The tip of his cock perfectly brushes your gspot with every shaking breath he takes while he forces himself to stay still.

The second he feels your walls ease up, he’s pulling out and slamming his hips back into yours. His thrusts force all the breath out of your body, each one rougher than the last. Despite how aggressive his movements are, you know this is restrained for Wally, that he’s holding himself back on your behalf.

“Wish I could stay buried in your cunt forever.” He pants. “Never wanna let you go.”

Wally leans further into you, propping himself on his arms while his hips slam into yours hard enough to bruise. Breathless moans are forced from you with every movement, Wally pressing his lips against yours to drink up each sound you make.

He folds you in on yourself, your knees pressing into your chest and allowing him to go even deeper. He buries his face in your neck, half panting and half kissing you.

“Wally.” You gasp out.

The feeling of his cock just barely brushing your cervix is more than enough to have the knot in your stomach building. You wrap your arms around him, curling your fingers and digging them into the muscles of his shoulder blades.

“S—shit,” he groans. “Feels so damn good.”

He gently nips at your neck, rolling his hips into yours and finally sending you over the edge. Heat floods through you, all of your muscles seizing as your orgasm rolls over you. You close your eyes, digging your hands even harder into Wally’s skin, desperately riding out wave after wave of pleasure.

Wally’s hips stutter, his thrusts getting sloppier, and then your clenching, gummy walls are sending him over the edge with you. He forces himself as deep as he can, bottoming out just as the first waves of hot cum flood through you.

The aftershocks of your orgasm are so exhausting that you can hardly feel Wally collapse on top of you, bearing the full weight of his body. The two of you pant in unison, chests fluttering together. With every breath he takes, his soft, sweaty hair tickles the side of your neck.

Wally lays tangled with you for a few minutes, his cock still buried inside of you while he regains his strength.

Finally, he sits up with a grin. “So,” he says, “how’s my beautiful girl feeling?”

Wally laughs when you give him a weak thumbs up from below him. “Good.” He smiles. “And don’t you ever forget it.”

summer suntacular | masterlist | dc masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

#wally west smut #Wally west #Wally west x reader #Wally west x you #the flash smut #the flash x you #the flash x reader #kid flash #kid flash smut #kid flash x reader #young justice smut #young Justice x reader #x you #x reader

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steddieas-shegoes · 27 days ago

Text

i knew we'd be fine

for @steddiesongfics using 18 by one direction as inspiration

rated e | 3104 words | cw: temporary breakup | tags: modern au, high school sweethearts, break-up, second chances, getting back together, chance meetings, time skip, semi-public sex (the door is open they don't get caught), hand jobs, love confessions

also on ao3

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

May 21st, 2018

“Eddie!” Steve crashes into his bedroom, dropping his backpack on the floor.

Eddie looks up from the exam in his hand. He failed. Again.

Steve’s excited, clearly passed all his exams. He never had any doubts. Steve works hard, studies for the tests he knows will be difficult. Does extra credit when he doesn’t do as well as he hoped to.

Eddie gets by in most classes, but pre-calculus was sent from hell specifically to torture him. This is his second year failing it, and it’s his second year being kept behind because of it.

The worst part is that he did try this time. He actually studied with Steve, and maintained a C average for most of the year. This last quarter was tough though, and he needed a B on the exam to pass the class. He stares at the 68 in big red marker on the front.

It’s not enough. He’s not enough.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is quieter now, and he sits next to Eddie on the bed, taking the paper out of his hand. “You didn’t pass.”

He sounds shocked, a little disappointed, maybe even a bit mad.

“Nope. Looks like another senior year for me,” Eddie says, voice shaking. He’s managed to keep from crying for the last hour, but he’s not sure how much longer he can hold off. “Third time’s the charm, right?”

Steve sets the paper down next to him and turns to Eddie, tears in his eyes.

“I got into UIC.”

Eddie’s heart drops to his stomach and his stomach drops out of his body.

They both knew Eddie wasn’t going to college. Everyone knew that. Steve was, though. He wanted to be a teacher, and he’d be a damn good one. Eddie was gonna follow him to college, find a job at a record store in Chicago, play his music when he could.

He was gonna fall asleep holding Steve every night, and one day, they’d get married, even though Steve deserves better than Eddie and always will. Maybe Eddie’d make it just big enough that he could make good money but still be around to start a family, adopt a couple kids to keep them busy and keep their house full of love.

That was their plan.

Eddie ruined their plan.

“Congrats, baby. That’s amazing. I knew you’d do it,” Eddie says, and he does mean it, even if his voice doesn’t quite show it. “You’re gonna do so great.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not going.”

“What do you mean? Of course you are.”

Eddie knows what Steve’s doing. He’s sacrificing because he thinks it will help, but it’ll just make Eddie feel worse, and Steve’s parents would never allow him to not go to college because of his loser boyfriend.

“I’m not going without you,” Steve’s voice breaks.

Eddie’s heart does, too, especially when he realizes what he’ll have to do.

He loves Steve so much. He has to remind himself of that as he ruins everything even more. It’s for the best.

As he breaks Steve’s heart, and ruins their future, and hurts himself in the process, he has to keep reminding himself that letting Steve go is the best thing to do. He’d never forgive himself for holding him back.

Steve leaves, tears still running down his face.

Eddie cries until he passes out and hopes he makes it through another fucking year at Hawkins High.

****

May 10th, 2024

Eddie throws his keys on the counter, wipes his forehead. The AC unit in the window is useless, and the summer heat hasn’t even really started yet. The record store’s AC is broken and the owner is trying to find a cheap fix to get through this summer while he saves up, but hasn’t had much luck. Wayne’s supposed to come take a look next week because he’s sick of hearing Eddie complain over the phone.

He pulls a beer from the fridge and pulls his phone from his pocket.

Robin texted him a selfie from last night, her birthday outing in Boston that looks like it was pretty fun. He lets her know her present is on the way, which it decidedly is not, but it will be when his paycheck hits his account on Friday.

Wayne sent him a text with his bus info so he can be there to pick him up from the station. The old man still refuses to fly, even though it would be so much faster and easier to do it. He gives a thumbs up and says he’ll call him tomorrow, just like he does every Wednesday night.

Gareth sent him a link to an open mic night not too far from his apartment with a question mark. It might be nice to get on stage. He’s only done a few open mic nights this year, and the stage is calling him. He tells him he’s in, but only if Jeff makes the trip, too. Frankie’s too far, or he’d insist on him coming.

They all still get together once a year, usually here in Chicago, but sometimes at Frankie’s place in New York if they can swing it.

A loud bang from the hall makes him jump, nearly dropping his beer and his phone on the floor. He’s used to apartment living, random loud noises are common above and below him. But he’s home early today, and most of the people in his building work regular 9-5 jobs.

He sets his drink and phone on the counter and goes to check through the peephole in the door.

A man is struggling to shove a couch through the door across the hall. It looks just a little too wide to fit, but the man is still trying to push it through.

Eddie should ignore it, finish his beer, shower, and maybe heat up the frozen pizza he’s been thinking about all day. He closed the shop last night and opened it this morning. He’s running on barely four hours of sleep and a Mountain Dew that gave him heartburn instead of energy.

He opens his door and steps into the hall.

“Not sure that’s gonna fit, dude,” he says to the man half-buried in a too-large couch.

The man freezes. Eddie can’t help but stare at the man’s ass. He’s having a hell of a dry spell, close to a year. Even before that he can’t remember the last time he was this intrigued by a dude’s ass.

The man stands up and turns and Eddie’s heart drops much like it did the last time he saw this man.

“Eddie?” Steve’s eyes are huge as he steps closer, seemingly forgetting that he was in the process of moving a couch into an apartment.

“Steve?” Eddie asks, scared to move at all.

He’s seen Steve in some pictures, of course. It’s hard not to when they share Robin like divorced parents share their only child. He’s always in the background, though, a little blurry or turned away just enough that Eddie can’t see his features.

“Do you live here?” Steve asks, which is probably a dumb question considering he just walked out of an apartment in this building, but he’s too busy staring at him to care.

“Yeah. Uh…do you?” Eddie asks, equally dumb.

“As of yesterday, yeah,” Steve hasn’t blinked since he turned and Eddie’s pretty sure he hasn’t either. That can’t be good for anyone, especially not people with glasses. Steve’s wearing glasses. Eddie’s brain stops working immediately at the realization. “I didn’t know you lived in Chicago.”

Which has to be a lie. There’s no way Robin hasn’t mentioned it at some point, especially because she’s visited him a handful of times over the last couple of years. Gareth’s even sort-of friends with him, and he’s terrible at keeping secrets. Not that it’s a secret, but. Well, he just assumed that Steve wouldn’t care what he’s up to.

“Moved here in 2022. Wayne wanted to buy his ma’s old house in Kentucky before it went to some ungrateful flippers or whatever and I didn’t find any reason to stay without him there.” Eddie shrugs. “Gareth’s in school here so he put the good word in at a record shop for a job and found this place for me.”

“Does he live with you?” Steve’s so close, Eddie could touch him. He won’t. But he could.

“No, no. This is just a studio. Can’t afford a two bedroom, even with rent sharing. He lives on campus until he graduates next May, so maybe then we can find a place. I dunno, he’s pretty serious with a girl so maybe not,” Eddie shrugs again. Why can’t he control his fucking shoulders? “Anyways! I figured you’d be in Boston!”

Steve frowns. “Why would I be in Boston?”

“Robin’s birthday?” Eddie didn’t imagine the text she sent, right? She went out last night to celebrate.

“Oh!” Steve laughs. “Yeah, I had to move, so I’m heading out there in a couple weeks to celebrate. My old landlord was a cunt and wouldn’t let me push it by three days.”

“Was it Darla?” Darla has a hell of a reputation in this area of Chicago. She owns four buildings, refuses to be bought out by corporations, and doesn’t let anyone get away with anything. Her buildings are nice, but she’s not. Eddie couldn’t afford them even if he wanted to, and he’s a little glad he can’t.

“Yep,” Steve gives an awkward half-smile. “If I’d known about her before signing the lease, I probably wouldn’t have.”

“Ah well, you’re out of it now. Daryl’s pretty cool here. He’s a bit slow to fix stuff, but he’s doing his best. Helped me out a few months ago when I was a few days late on rent,” Eddie shrugs again. Jesus, his back’s gonna be sore soon. “I’m surprised she didn’t convince you to move to Boston.”

Steve laughs. “She tried. Even sent me a few listings in her building. But I couldn’t turn down the job offer here.”

Eddie nods like he understands, like he knows what the hell Steve is even talking about. He doesn’t. He knows Steve graduated because Wayne went to his graduation, but that’s really all he knows. It’s all he’s allowed himself to know.

“Well!” Eddie claps his hands together. He’s suddenly even more exhausted and barely holding it together. “Best of luck. I don’t think that couch is gonna fit, though.”

“Oh,” Steve looks back over his shoulder at the couch as if he just remembered he was doing something before Eddie interrupted. “Right. Well, who needs a couch anyway, right?”

Eddie snorts. He feels his heart twinge in his chest. Steve was always so good at making him laugh, even when he was feeling like absolute shit. Apparently, it’s a gift he’s kept all these years.

“You could tilt it at an angle?” Eddie suggests. He’s not sure it’ll work, but he doesn’t wanna leave with nothing to offer. Not like last time.

“I tried. Couldn’t get a good enough grip to push it through.”

“I can try to help.”

Surprisingly, it does work. It’s not easy, and still takes them nearly ten minutes, but it gets through.

“Guess you live here permanently now,” Eddie huffs as he tries to catch his breath.

“At least my couch does,” Steve agrees with a small smile.

Eddie used to do everything to see Steve smile, anything at all. He finds he’d still do anything.

“Thanks for your help,” Steve continues. He’s so close. How’d he even get this close? “Probably would’ve just sent it back downstairs and let someone take it from the curb if you didn’t help.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. “Yeah, no problem. I guess I’ll be seeing you around?”

Steve nods once. He’s still so close.

Eddie wants to touch him, wants to reach out and see if he feels the same. If his hair is still soft, if his hips are still hard but he still has a pudge at his belly, if his nipples are still more sensitive than his dick.

He’s not brave, never has been. Not when it matters most.

But Steve is, Steve was always brave. He came out to his parents even though they were likely to disown him, insisted on it because he didn’t want to keep Eddie a secret. He came out at school even though the basketball team made homophobic jokes constantly because he knew he didn’t want to hide who he was. He applied for a college his parents didn’t think was good enough because they had the best education program that wasn’t completely across the country. He visited Wayne still, even after Eddie broke his heart.

Steve touches his cheek, leans in.

When their lips meet, it’s hesitant. Not even their first kiss was this delicate.

Eddie shivers as Steve pulls away. He doesn’t go far, but Eddie tugs him in by his waist so he can’t go any further.

They’re both smiling, practically glowing.

“Yeah?” Steve asks.

“Yeah.”

He pushes Steve down on the couch, kissing hard enough to taste blood. They’re both hungry, starved, and desperate to touch every inch of each other. He’s straddling Steve’s thighs, trying not to think about how much thicker they feel under him. He’s already hard, going 0-100 faster than he ever has before. Steve’s clearly not far behind, moaning into his mouth as his hips push up for friction.

Eddie bites his bottom lip and pulls away, but Steve forces his mouth to his neck. Eddie is willing to go wherever Steve wants him to.

“Need to close the door,” Steve pants.

“Just be quick,” Eddie says against his neck.

“But, neighbors.”

“No one’s here.”

Steve laughs, bunches his neck up. Eddie’s hit with something that feels a lot like the love he used to feel for this man. Back when they were both barely teenagers, back when they didn’t know how to explain to others that they were in love and it wasn’t just some stupid high school fling. Back when they first kissed, and their first kiss led to their first hand jobs, and then they had their first time together on Steve’s 17th birthday.

He knew what made Steve tick then, he knew exactly how to make Steve smile and laugh and moan. They were barely adults when he broke both their hearts, and he still isn’t sure he’s recovered from it.

“Hey,” Steve says, and it makes Eddie pull his face back to look at him. He’s smiling, soft and gentle, and his hands have gone light against his skin, no longer digging into his muscles and bones and very being. “We’re here, right?”

Eddie answers with a kiss, a gentle press of his lips against Steve’s, a silent agreement that somehow, some way, they are here. The universe threw them back at each other because it couldn’t accept a world where they weren’t together.

“Are you getting psychological?” Steve asks.

Eddie beams, kisses him again because he knows Steve knows the right word. He went to college, learned a lot of big words. Eddie’s pretty sure he always knew them anyway.

“I suppose I am,” Eddie replies.

His hand drops to his jeans and unbuttons them, wraps a hand around himself. Steve knocks his hand away and takes over and it’s far better than when they were teenagers, so much better than when they were still learning how to stop being embarrassed about what they liked and wanted.

He’s been with a few guys since, nothing more than casual hookups, but it was enough to learn that he’s good at this. He knows what he’s doing, he’s confident. He likes making people feel good, he learned that with Steve first.

But Steve has always been a giver, generous in bed and out of it. He’s glad that hasn’t changed.

Steve remembers him, somehow gets the rhythm and pressure just right to have him on the edge in less than a minute. He’s whimpering, bucking up into his touch.

“You too,” he gets out before he comes. “Let me touch you. Been so long.”

Steve’s somehow thicker than he remembers, though maybe he’s just lost in the moment or his memory isn’t as good as he thought it was. Hard to lose the memory when Steve’s been the one he always goes back to in his mind when he’s alone at night, trying to take the edge off with spit and his right hand.

They work each other up, edge each other so it doesn’t have to end. They’re kissing lazily while their hands work faster, then slower, occasionally squeezing drops of precum from the tip of their cocks. They’re sweating and making small noises that echo in the emptiness of Steve’s still mostly empty apartment. The door naturally closed most of the way, a small gap still visible, but neither of them care.

“Come with me.” Steve doesn’t wait for him to respond, just twists his grip so that Eddie has no choice but to come all over them both. Steve follows within seconds.

They’re breathing heavy, both of them shaking as they come down.

Steve brings his fingers to his lips, licks the cum off of them, leans his head back like he’s savoring the taste and the adrenaline high. Eddie watches him, can’t believe he gets to see Steve like this again.

He doesn’t want it to end.

“Did you really not know I was here?” Eddie asks quietly, not wanting to completely ruin the moment.

“I really didn’t,” Steve says without opening his eyes or lifting his head up. “Think it’s a sign?”

Eddie kisses his jaw, curling his head against his neck when Steve wraps his arms around him to hold him close.

“Pretty sure the universe knew we’d get here,” Eddie answers.

He’s not really one for believing in miracles or higher powers of any kind, but it’s hard to ignore this.

“I knew I’d find you again,” Steve admits.

“Could’ve asked Robin and saved us a lot of time,” Eddie teases.

Steve pokes his cheek, but he laughs. As long as he laughs, as long as Eddie can make him laugh, he thinks they’ll be fine.

“Still love you, you know?” Steve asks after another minute of silence. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you just as much as I did when we were teenagers.”

“Good.”

“Good?” Steve’s smirking, he can tell.

“Yeah. Loving you alone was a little pathetic.”

Steve kisses the top of his head. “At least we can be pathetic together.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie events #steddie song fics #steve harrington x eddie munson #second chances #temporary break up #getting back together

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sogoodtoheritsvicious · 1 month ago

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this life is sweeter than fiction

summary: you announce your new album, and it being full of love songs isn’t the only surprise in store for fans

vicious speaks: reports of my death were greatly exaggerated. on a serious note, i’m so sorry it’s such a short chapter! it really kicked my ass and didn’t come out the way i intended but i worked hard on it and i really hope that it was worth the wait. thank you for your patience 💞 the next chapter will be longer, i promise!!

series masterlist

───────── ❤︎ ─────────

liked by harrystyles, yourbff, and others

yourusername i am SO incredibly happy to tell you that my brand new album ‘labyrinth’ will be released on november 21st and is available for pre-order now!

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harrystyles i love you and i’m so proud of you ❤️

⤷ yourusername i love you ♥️ thank you for being my biggest cheerleader, this album wouldn’t be what it is without you.

ynharrysthird I WAS MADE FOR LOVING YOU FEAT WHO??

⤷ yourusername 😏

fan I’M GONNA PASS OUT

yourbff so so excited!!!! ♥︎ by author

fan2 it isn’t even out yet but it’s already album of the year

fan3 HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL AT WORK WHEN THERE’S A YNHARRY COLLAB ON THE WAY?!!?

itsaria i’m seated. the record label employees are scared and asking me to leave because it’s “not november 21st yet” but i’m simply too seated

⤷ yourusername omg 😭

⤷ fan4 one thing about aria, she’s gonna be hyping our girl up

oscarpiastri counting down the days ⏱️ ♥︎ by author

fan5 excited about the ynharry collab ofc but “you said you were sorry” has me so curious

alexandrasaintmleux can’t wait for it to go triple platinum in our house!!

⤷ yourbff same

⤷ francisca.cgomes same

⤷ lilymhe same

⤷ itsaria same

⤷ yourusername I LOVE YOU ALL

⤷ fan5 yns girls are so supportive 🥹🫶🏼

aarondessner ❤️❤️❤️

fan6 i’ve never preordered anything as fast as i did this album

⤷ yourusername 💞

fan6 yn going from never releasing love songs to having a whole ass collab with her boyfriend is something that can be so personal 🥺 ♥︎ by author

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liked by harrystyles, ynharrysthird, and others

yourusername labyrinth is out now! this was probably the easiest album i’ve ever written. the words were just flowing out of me and it was finished before i could even really blink and the main reason is because of my lovely muse 🤍 h, i love you so much more than words can ever describe. thank you for not only being a part of this album, but for also being my rock throughout the entire process. and aaron, it was such an honor to work with you!!! here’s to making many more albums together in the future 🥂 finally, to the fans, this album wouldn’t have even been possible without you guys and trust me, i am very aware of that. i hope you love it as much as i do x

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harrystyles God, i really do love you ♥️

⤷ yourusername ditto, my love ❤️

ynharrysthird this album is so beautiful and iwmfly is my new favorite song. i’m so proud of you, yn <3 these are the only words i have for now. gonna go back to crying.

⤷ yourusername aw honey, thank you so much for your constant support 🥹 love ya!

fan iwmfly is beautiful but sunset blvd had my jaw on the FLOOR cause of all the innuendos

yourbff CONGRATS ON A PHENOMENAL ALBUM, I’M SO PROUD OF YOU 💞💞💞

⤷ yourusername LOVE YOU SM 💞

fan2 name a more iconic 11 track run. i’ll wait.

annetwist congratulations on a beautiful project, darling x

⤷ yourusername anne <3 thank you 🥰

alexandrasaintmleux number one on the charts and more importantly, number one in my heart

⤷ yourusername love you wifey 😚

fan3 screaming crying and definitely throwing up

oscarpiastri congratulations 🍾

⤷ yourusername thank u osc 🥰

mclaren happy album release day 🥳 ♥︎ by author

francisca.cgomes on repeat 🎶

⤷ pierregasly she’s not kidding

⤷ yourusername you’ll live pierregasly

carlossainz55 “you said you were sorry” is my favorite in case anyone is wondering

⤷ fan4 carlos pls 😭

⤷ fan5 oh we knew your messy ass would love that one

lilymhe i’m aware that i’m biased but “i would, would you” is the best song on the album

⤷ itsaria SO true

⤷ yourbff exactlyyyy

⤷ francisca.cgomes all the other songs pale in comparison

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux ^^

⤷ yourusername love you all 💞💞💞💞💞💞

⤷ fan6 yn writing a song exclusively for her girls is the most adorable thing ever

gemmastyles about to make this album my entire personality 😌

⤷ yourusername 🙂‍↕️

fan7 this entire album is making me cry the happiest tears

fan8 “you said you were sorry” is all about being healed 🥹

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ynharrysthird YOUR WHAT

fan PAUSE

fan2 WHAT THE FUCK

yourbff you posted this and turned your phone off didn’t you?

fan3 you can’t just announce your engagement and dip GET BACK HERE

oscarpiastri i just know you guys are laughing your asses off right now

ynharrysthird back here again. what the fuck is your problem. congrats btw 💞

fan4 IT’S TOO LATE FOR THESE KIND OF SHENANIGANS HARRY

fan5 UR SICK

alexandrasaintmleux i put a ring on it first 💋

fan6 OH MY GOD??? CONGRATULATIONS 🥹

f1 Congratulations to our favorite couple!

fan7 this is about to be the wedding of the year

fan8 i bet you’re feeling real proud of yourself

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shikiii-skadi · 9 months ago

Text

Most to least likely to want to have children:

INCLUDES: everyone

WARNINGS: talking about biological children, but no mentioning of readers gender

NAVIGATION: Obey me! Masterlist

Most likely

💙Diavolo💙 - He is the future king of the Devildom, so he definitely needs an heir someday. The thought of having a child with you, which is basically the embodiment of his dream, is something he would have never believed could become such near reality. A child with a demon for a father and a human for another parent, while also descending from angels. Having a child with you is definitely a big wish for him, and he can get rather excited and pushy regarding the whole thing, but if you do not feel ready for children right now, he of course would respect your wishes. But he still would bring up the topic quite often, almost subconsciously, in your everyday life. For example, after you helped Luke with something, Diavolo will point out what an excellent parent you will most definitely be for your future children, or if you walk past a store that has baby/child clothes on display, Diavolo would tell you how cute those clothes look and that he should buy them in preparation for your children. Divaolo likes children in general. He finds his role as a father very fulfilling. He wants to have at least one child, and is open for more if you are as well.

💜Mephistopheles💜 - He is from a royal family as well and will need an heir at some point, too. His family will remind him of their wish for grandchildren every chance they get. But also without his family's wishes, he also wants to have children. Until you came into his life it was always a distant destination for the future, because he has yet to find someone, who he wants to have a family with. But it was always certain for him that after finding the right partner, children are going to follow at some point. Although he is in no rush and will take it on more slowly if you wish to wait. Mephisto loves his adorable younger siblings and wants his children to experience the same joy. So he wants to have at least four children, preferably more.

❤️Beelzebub❤️ - Beel definitely wants to have children with you. At least two, so that your children have each other. But preferably more. Beel wants to have a big family, just like he and his brothers are.

💚Simeon💚 - Simeon is kind of hard to place, because of his position as an angel. Like realistically he isn't even allowed to fall in love with you, much less to be intimate with you and sire children. But at the same time Simeon is known for his behavior that isn't really fit for an angel and his tendency to bend rules to align with his own desired outcome. While it is not his first choice, he would gladly fall from grace and become a demon, if it meant to be together with you. Simeon is very domestic and he would definitely desire to raise a family together with you. He prefers to have one or two children of his own, so he can make sure to devote enough of his attention and love to all of them and you, of course, equally, while also having enough left to give to Luke.

💜Belphegor💜 - While it would be a lot of work and would take a lot of time away from napping with you, Belphie does like the thought of having a family with you. It appeals to his more possessive tendencies, while also appealing to his domestic wishes. Belphie wants to have at least three children, just like he, Beel, and Lilith were.

💙Lucifer💙 - First his answer would be no. He already has to take care of his younger brothers. But on one of his quiet nights in the music room, listening to some of his favorite cursed records, the thought won't leave him and the longer he was thinking about it, the more appealing it became. Lucifer does find the thought of joining both of your bloodlines through a child appealing. To leave a piece of himself within you for everyone to see. It's the ultimate proof of your love and that you are his. The thought of you carrying his child fills him with an immense feeling of pride and possessiveness. Lucifer prefers to have just one child, but he can be persuaded to try for a second one, if that's what you wish. But two is his maximum.

💚Satan💚 - Satan is a romantic at heart, probably because of the many romance novels he has read. He is fond of both ideas. Starting a family with you and seeing your love combined in a little being that reflects the two of you fills him with warmth, but so does the thought of the two of you alone together forever. But no matter which outcome you do choose, there going to be a lot of cats. Lots and lots of cats. You will have a completely cat-themed house. And if you do have children, Satan is going to dress them in all the cute cat clothes and accessories, he himself can only wear for a few seconds in the confinement of his own room, where no one of his brothers can see him. The Avatar of Wrath couldn't walk around with cat ears. He has a reputation to uphold. But no one can say anything against his adorable children wearing those. They will have cute cat-themed onesie, cat shirts, cat socks, cat ears, you name it. If there is a cat related article of something, you can be sure you will have it somewhere in your home. Satan prefers to have one or two children.

💛Mammon💛 - On one hand, he would like to have children with you. So he could cross off another thing on his list of things he was your first with. On the other hand, he is not in a hurry to have children with you. He is greedy and wants to have you for himself for a while before you plan a new addition to your family. When he's not plotting schemes to get your child to torment Lucifer, because Mammon knows his child would never be harshly punished like he would (but Lucifer obviously knows Mammon is behind it, so Mammon will still be punished at the end of the day) or using your child to make money (by having your child beg strangers for money, for example), he is a surprisingly good father. Mammon is fine with one child.

💛Barbatos💛 - Barbatos wishes regarding children depend on whether you wish for children or not. If you want children, he will arrange everything, so that he has enough time to help you raise them and to take care of you, while also making sure to have enough time to dedicate to his position as Lord Diavolos butler. If you don't want to have children, he is fine with that as well, it will give him more time to focus directly on you. He also doesn't really have a preferred number of children, although he would prefer it if you don't have too many.

🩷Solomon🩷 - He is very, let's say free-spirited. Whether it's making a deal with a Reaper that involves getting his candle extinguished if he loses simply because it sounded fun to Solomon, or any of the other things he gets carried away with because it might be interesting, Solomon definitely doesn't see himself in the position to put all that behind him in order to take responsibility for a child. Though he can become serious, visible for example from the responsibility he has taken on for the people of the human world, which is why his ability to take care of a child is higher than some of the others. Just don't let him near the kitchen. But right now he thinks he is too young to settle down, even though he is literally centuries old. Though eventually, he would quite like settling down with you and raising children together. Having children together isn't a must for him though. And to actually get to the children point, you will have to give him another like two hundred years.

❤️Thirteen❤️- Children were never something she gave any thought to. Even after you two became a thing. She doesn't mind children, but she also doesn't really want some of her own. It's so much work. And a reapers cave isn't exactly the type of place to raise children that a part human in anyway. Thirteen can find some joy in taking care and playing with children, but would rather want to look after Luke or any other children of your or her friends and family and give them back to their parents when it comes to do the actual parenting. She is more of the fun-loving aunt every child wishes they had because they will be allowed to do all the things they normally aren't.

🩷Asmodeus🩷- Asmo is sure that a child that is the combination of him, the most beautiful being in all three worlds, and you, the second most beautiful being right after him, could only be of exceptional beauty. He would definitely be interested to see what your child would look like, but at the same time, he is also afraid deep down that his own child could upstage him. He also doesn't like the thought of having to share you with someone else and the whole chore of having to take care of a child. Though while it is a nice thing to think about for a few moments, Asmo rather not wants a child anytime soon.

🧡Leviathan🧡 - Definitely no. Levi has problems taking care of himself, he couldn’t take care of a child. And he also has so much anime and movies to watch, games to play with you, conventions to visit, lines he has to wait in for the special prerelease of Ruri-chan merchandise, and events to play for special login bonuses. He can't lose his login streak he has upheld for centuries! He is a busy demon. And the thought of having to take care of a child and actually having to raise and guide them, scares him because he is sure he would somehow mess up his child. He also doesn't want to share your time and affection with someone else. It makes him envious, even if it's his own child. Just thinking about it makes him feel jealous. And he is aware that this feeling of jealousy towards his not even real child is an ugly emotion to have regarding once own blood. He feels pathetic and just rather forgets about any children.

Least likely

Bonus:

🧡Luke🧡 - The thought that you and your significant other could have children together makes him jealous and a little sad. Luke is afraid that you might forget him and stop caring and supporting him the way you did before. Luke is in constant rivalry for your attention with your children before he realizes that nothing has changed between the two of you and that he is still an important person in your life as he was before you had children. Now he takes on the role of the big brother figure, even though he would never admit it out loud due to feeling embarrassed.

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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year ago

Text

Wouldn’t It Be Nice

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you think you may be pregnant and tell Peter (characters are 18+)

Masterlist

“Can I help you find anything today?”

You momentarily broke out of your stunned state and looked at the CVS employee that was talking to you. You hadn’t even heard her walk up to you from how deep in thought you were.

“Um…” You trailed off and turned back to the row of pregnancy tests in front of you. You had been walking around for the past few weeks with a strange feeling in your gut that something was different. After realizing that morning that you couldn’t remember when your last period was, you took yourself to CVS to get a pregnancy test. Part of you thought there was absolutely no way you could ever possibly be pregnant, but the other part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that you definitely were.

“Did you have any questions?” The employee said when you took too long to answer. An overwhelming sense of dread fell over you when you realized you had no idea which one to choose. Your eyes suddenly filled with tears and you sucked in a sharp, panicked breath.

“Hey. It’s okay.” The employee said and put her hand on your shoulder.

“It’s not okay. This isn’t how I wanted this to happen. I wanted my first time buying a pregnancy test to be exciting and joyful. But I’m scared to death right now and I don’t even know which one to get. If I can’t even make one stupid decision on what test to get, how am I supposed to raise a human?” You blurted and looked at her desperately for answer. The young employee blinked a few times and you immediately felt embarrassed for dumping all of that on a girl who looked fresh out of high school.

“Um, I can ask my manager?” She weakly offered. You laughed lightly and wiped your tears.

“Sorry. I’m just really emotional right now.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be right back.” She told you and practically ran out of the aisle. You knew you had scared her away and assumed she’d never be back but to your surprise, a manger came down the aisle. She took a test off the shelf and handed it to you.

“I use these. They’re pretty accurate. And you don’t have to worry about misreading the little lines because it has a digital screen. If it’s your first time, you want to know for certain. And it comes with two so you can double check.” She told you. You stared at the box in your hand and for a moment, you didn’t feel as scared.

“Thank you.” You said sincerely. The manager smiled at you and took a tissue out of her pocket and handed it to you.

“You’ll be okay, hon.” She assured you.

“What if I’m not?” You asked quietly.

“Don’t worry about that. Because that’s not gonna happen.”

“I’m really scared.” You admitted and clenched the box in your hand. She looked you up and down for a moment before nodding towards the back of the store.

“Come with me.” She said, and you did. You followed her to the employee bathroom and watched her unlock it for you.

“It’s a single stall so you’ll have privacy. Go in there and take the test.” She said and held the door open.

“But…won’t you be able to hear me pee?”

“Yup. And you’ll be thinking about that instead of what that test is gonna say. So go on.” She said again.

“Thank you, magical CVS lady.” You smiled in sincere appreciation before going in and taking the test. After peeing on it, you put the cap back on, washed your hands, and left the bathroom.

“I can’t look at this. You do it.” You grimaced and held the test out to her.

“What’s it say?” You asked nervously.

“I’m not touching something you just peed on. You have to look yourself.” She told you. You sighed and decided that if you were gonna check the test, it had to be with Peter. You nodded your head and put the test in your purse.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked her.

“I’m not you from the future.” She shook her head.

“Psh. What makes you think I was gonna ask that?” You scoffed. “Unless you are me from the future and already knew I was gonna ask that.”

“We are not even the same race.” She reminded you.

“Oh. Yeah. Unless in the future, people-“

“Go pay for that.” She cut you off. “And talk to your boyfriend. It’s going to be okay.”

“I hope you’re right. Thank you for helping me.” You said sincerely before going to the register.

The pregnancy test was burning a hole in your purse as you walked to Peters apartment. May let you in and your legs felt weak beneath you as you knocked on his bedroom door.

“Oh, hi, honey. I wasn’t expecting you.” Peter smiled when he opened the door.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Is this about my YouTube search history? I wasn’t watching Jake Paul I just wanted to know if he still uploaded and-“

“It’s not about that.” You cut him of.

“Oh. Serious face.” Peter realized. “Have you been crying? What’s going on?”

You sighed and shut the door behind you before sitting on his bed. Peter sat beside you and took your hands.

“What’s going on?” He asked softly.

“I’m….I’m late.” You said slowly.

“For what? We didn’t have any plans.”

“No, Peter. I’m late.” You said and emphasized the last word.

“For what?” He mimicked your tone and laughed at his own joke.

“It’s not funny. I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.” You said as your eyes welled up with tears again. Peters head jutted back in surprise at your unexpected tears and he immediately pulled you into a hug.

“Woah. I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to make you upset.” He said as he rubbed your back up and down.

“I think I really messed up, P. I think I’m in a lot of trouble.” You sniffled as you wiped your eyes.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“My period never came this month.”

“So?”

“I didn’t get it last month either. I drove to an all night McDonalds last night because I specifically needed their sweet tea. My emotions are all over the place.” You listed and gestured to him to fill in the blanks.

“I feel like you’re leading me somewhere but now I can’t stop thinking about how good McDonald’s sweet tea is.” Peter said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Oh my God.” You groaned. “Peter, I think I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” He whispered harshly. “Like with a baby?”

“What else?”

“Hold on. Let’s not freak about before we have all the answers. A missed period doesn’t automatically mean you’re pregnant.”

“No, but this pregnancy test does.” You said and wiped out the test from your purse.

“You already took a test? Why didn’t you lead with this?” Peter asked in shock as he took the test. It was face down so neither of you could see the result.

“I haven’t looked at it yet. The magical CVS lady told me we should look at it together.”

“You went to CVS without me?” He whispered in betrayal.

“Peter. This is serious.” You whined and shook his arm.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Let’s look at it.” Peter said and flipped it over.

“I can’t look. You do it.” You said and quickly turned your face. There was a long pause of silence that sent your anxiety into overdrive.

“Well?” You asked. “What does it say?”

“I haven’t looked yet. My eyes are shut.” He admitted.

“Oh, just give it to me.” You sighed and took the test back from him.

The word “pregnant” were staring back at you on the little screen of the test in bold letters. You read that one word over and over, half expecting it to change. You looked over at Peter and watched him peak his eyes open.

“What does it say?” He asked you.

“Pregnant.” You said and you both sat with the weight of that. There was a long silence as you both stared at the test that was in your shaking hand.

“Maybe it’s false. Don’t people get false positives all the time?” Peter asked quietly. He was white as a ghost and you knew he was just as terrified as you were.

“The lady at CVS said this brand was pretty accurate. And I told you. My period never came.”

“Okay. We still don’t have to freak out. A missed period and a positive pregnancy test doesn’t automatically mean you’re pregnant.” He repeated his words from before with far less conviction.

“I think it kinda does, P.” You said apologetically. “And I just have this feeling. I’m pregnant. I know it.”

“This is all my fault.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face up and down.

“What makes you say that?”

“I made us watch look at the full moon after Thanksgiving and it got me in the mood because I was so overwhelmed with my love for space and time and now you’re pregnant.” Peter said as his eyes welled up with tears as well.

“What does you loving space exploration have to do with the potential of our teen pregnancy?” You laughed and relaxed a little.

“Well aren’t girls more fertile during the full moon? And how is this a teen pregnancy? We’re both 21.”

“Yes, but girls are teenagers their entire lives.” You reminded him. “And I don’t think the moon has anything to do with fertility.”

“Oh, so you think it’s just a coincidence that both the lunar and menstrual cycle last 28 days?” He asked you.

“Well when you say it like that.” You mumbled. You looked down at the test again and felt the overwhelming sense of dread return.

“I can’t believe I let this happen.” You said quietly.

“Hey. This was both of us, okay? It takes two to make a baby. Unless you secretly found a sperm donor and did an in vitro fertilization and then forgot about it but I don’t think you did that so this was probably our doing. So don’t put all the blame on yourself.” Peter said and pulled you back into his arms.

“But I could have been more careful. Now what am I gonna do? I can’t raise a kid, P. I’m not ready.” You said as you cried in his arms.

“Whatever happens, we’re gonna handle it together. You won’t be alone.” He promised you.

“But we’re just kids ourselves. We don’t know anything about looking after a human being. I don’t know how to cook and you put a bar of soap in the laundry machine last week and made all the other tenants mad. We were irresponsible enough to accidentally get knocked up so how are we responsible enough to raise a kid? What if we can’t do this?” You pulled out of his arms to ask him.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “Should we tell an adult?”

“Who?” You laughed sadly. “My parents? Not unless you want my dad to put your head on a stick Lord of the Flies style.”

“Thank you for that imagery. But I was thinking May. She might be more sensitive to what you’re going through.”

“Won’t she be mad at you?”

“I don’t think so. She’s extremely sex positive. Like, uncomfortably so.” Peter said and grimaced a little. You nodded in agreement as you recalled all the conversations you’ve had with her about your “changing bodies”.

“What if we never tell anyone?” You suggested after a beat of silence.

“We’re gonna have to tell them eventually. And if we don’t, they’re gonna notice. It’s kinda hard to hide a pregnancy for the entire ninth months.” Peter reminded you.

“What if there is no pregnancy? What if I get an abortion?”

“If thats what you want, I’ll support you. It’s your choice.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.” You admitted. “I made this baby. I feel like I’m supposed to take care of it.”

“You’re supposed to do whatever you feel is right for you. We can do whatever you want.” Peter assured you.

“Maybe adoption?” You suggested. “I could have the baby and we could find a nice couple to raise them.”

“We could look into that.” Peter nodded.

“I don’t know if I can do that either.” You sighed. “I know adoption works for a lot of people but I think I’d always wonder about our kid. And what if I regret giving them up when I’m older? I’m not ready now but I wanted kids one day. We can make another baby but we can never remake that baby. What if I want to be in their life but they don’t want to know me?”

“I’d wonder about them too.” Peter admitted. “But we have a lot of time to think about what to do. We don’t have to make any decisions right now.”

“I want to talk to May.” You decided. “She’ll know what we should do.”

“Okay. Let’s go see her. But later, uh, an we stop at…” Peter trailed off and gave you a look.

“Yeah. Fine.” You sighed. “I want sweet tea now too.”

You and Peter splashed cold water on your faces to make it look like you hadn’t been crying before going out to see May. Peter took your hand and squeezed it as you watched her from the hallway.

“Okay, we have to be strategic about this. We don’t want her freaking out and making us more nervous. Let’s just ease her into it.” He whispered to you.

“Good idea.” You whispered back before going out into the kitchen to see her.

“Oh, hi guys.” May greeted. “I’m starting to get hungry so I was thinking of making some-“

“I’m pregnant.” Peter’s blurted.

“What?” She laughed in confusion.

“Oh my God. Peter!” You groaned and smacked his arm.

“I’m sorry. You were saying you could make us something?” He asked May. May ignored him and looked at you with an expecting glance. You sighed and pulled the test out of your pocket before handing it to you. Her eyebrows went up in surprise but when she looked at you again, she didn’t look disappointed.

“How did this happen?”She asked you.

“Well, when a man and I woman love each other very much-“ Peter began.

“No.” May groaned. “I know how this happened. But don’t you guys use protection?”

“We do.” Peter nodded. “Most of the time.”

“Most of the time?” May asked skeptically.

“We don’t always have a condom handy but I have really fast reflexes.” Peter said in defense.

“Oh, really? Do you?” May asked with a huge smile as she grabbed the stick of butter beside her and launched it at Peter. It stuck to his face and everyone fell silent.

“Not fast enough, apparently.” She said finally. Peter took the butter off his face and went to clean up as you sat down to talk to May.

“Are you mad?” You asked her.

“I’m surprised.” She admitted. “But I also believe everything happens for a reason. This could be the universe telling you that this is the path for you.”

“Or, this is the universe telling me I should’ve wrapped it before I tapped it.” Peter said as he rejoined the conversation. May gave him a look and he went quiet again.

“Do you have any questions?” May asked you.

“Yes. What if it comes out covered in all the gum I’ve swallowed?” You asked with genuine concern.

“That…can’t happen.” May said slowly. “Do you know that? It’s important to me that you know that.”

“What if she farts too hard one day and gives birth in her underwear and then the baby can’t breathe?” Peter asked.

“What if I teach the baby to share and it ends up a communist?” You added.

“Oh no. We can’t have a commie baby.” Peter nodded in agreement.

“What if it’s just a giant spider?” You asked. “Or a regular baby but with eight legs?”

“Or a spider with a baby face. That would be so spooky.” Peter added.

“He’s right.” You said and pointed to him.

“No, he’s not right. Did either of you take sex Ed?” May sighed in disappointment.

“All I remember from health class is watching Inside Out.” Peter admitted.

“I love that movie. Except for the Bing Bong part.” You said and started to cry again as you thought about the movie.

“He sacrificed himself to let Riley be happy.” You said through your tears.

“Yeah, she’s definitely pregnant.” May sighed. “Who else have you guys told?”

“Just you. And some lady at CVS.” You told her.

“Understandable. I think you should decide if you want to keep the baby or not before telling anyone else.”

“She’s right. What do you want to do?” Peter asked you.

“I can’t make any decisions right now. I need to sleep on it. Can I sleep here tonight? I really don’t want to be alone with all my thoughts.” You sighed and rubbed your head.

“Can she?” Peter asked May.

“I mean, it’s not like she can get more pregnant.” May shrugged. You said nothing and went back to Peter’s room for some alone time. He was about to follow you but May stopped him and told him to give you some space. You laid in his bed and stared up at the ceiling for a long time as you thought about everything. Part of you wanted to scream for being so irresponsible but another part of you believed what May had said about everything happening for a reason. Peter came into the room after about an hour with a bowl of cut up fruit. You gave him a sad smile and sat up as he sat on the bed.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” You asked him.

“I’m kinda, I don’t know, excited.” Peter admitted.

“You are?” You asked in surprise.

“Yeah. I mean, obviously I was shocked when you first told me. But now I can’t stop thinking about what our kid will be like.” Peter said. You ate some of your fruit and took a moment to think about what it would actually be like to have a baby with him. You looked over at Peter and saw his big brown eyes staring back at you with full attention.

“Hopefully they’d have your eyes. That was the first thing I noticed about you when we met. Big doe eyes that can’t hide anything you’re feeling. It’s my favorite part of your face.” You replied with a soft smile.

“That would be cute. But my biggest hope is that they get your heart. And your kindness. I’ve never seen you turn someone away who was in need. You’ve taken on so many others people’s problems even when you’re drowning in your own. You take care of people. I hope our kid is like that.” Peter said, making you smile softly.

“Well I hope our kid gets your creativity.” You told him. “The things your brain comes up with never fails to amaze me. When you can’t find something you need, you make it yourself. I hope our kid gets your brains. They’ll be able to think themselves out of anything.”

“I hope so. With me as their dad, they’re gonna need a lot of help.” Peter laughed softly.

“No. You’ll be a great dad.” You insisted. “I already know you’re gonna be the fun parent and I’m gonna be the one that has to keep everyone in check.”

“But they’ll love you. It’s impossible not to.” Peter replied. “You’re where they will go for advice and comfort. They’ll come to me when they want to do some light scheming and plotting.”

You laughed and nodded in agreement as you stared off into the distance. The thought of a child that was half you, half the boy you loved didn’t seem as scary anymore. The more you talked about it and imagined what it would be like, the more excited you felt to start that chapter in your life.

“It might be kind of fun to have a kid running around.” You admitted. “One that you and I get to raise and watch grow. I always thought I’d have a kid one day. I didn’t think it would be this soon, but maybe May was right. Maybe this is what was meant to happen.”

“Maybe it was.” Peter agreed. “Maybe this is exactly when this was supposed to happen.”

“It’s gonna be a lot of sleepless nights, though.” You added when you found yourself romanticizing all the good parts of being a parent and none of the bad.

“Oh, totally. I heard it’s terrible the first few weeks. You don’t sleep at all.”

“God. I do not want that.” You laughed and rolled your eyes a little.

“Me either. It’ll be brutal.” Peter groaned and you nodded in agreement. You knew you had to consider how hard this would all be, but all you could think about was the cute baby clothes you’d get to dress your kid up in.

“I heard babies heads smell really good, though.” Peter said after you had sat in silence for a moment.

“Me too. I used to have a babydoll that’s head smelled really good. Like cake.” You smiled at the memory.

“Cake baby.” Peter replied, making you chuckle softly. You were starting to get a little too excited about the idea of this baby and had to bring yourself back down to earth.

“They smell really bad too, though.” You added. “And that’ll make us smell bad because we’re gonna be the ones who have to deal with all the throw up and poop.”

“You’re right. Ugh, I am not looking forward to that.” Peter blew out a breath. “We’re gonna have to change dirty diapers for the next few years of our lives. I worked in a daycare one summer and the diapers are never ending. And we’re probably gonna live in a super small place because that’s all we can afford and the whole thing is gonna smell like a dumpster.”

“Gross.” You grimaced and remembered why getting pregnant this young was a bad idea.

You put your bowl down once you finished the fruit and got into the bed. You stared up at the glow in the dark stars on Peter’s ceiling as he got in beside you and shut off the light.

“Would you hope for a girl or a boy?” You asked and rolled over to face him.

“Girl.” He said immediately.

“Really? Why?”

“Because. Imagine having another little you running around. Only she’d grow up with unrelenting love and support from us. She’d be running the world by her 6th birthday.” Peter insisted.

“What would we name her?” You asked through a smile as you imagined the little girl.

“Matilda.” He answered.

“Matilda? Like the movie?”

“Not just any movie.” He prefaced. “The greatest movie of all time.”

“I can’t argue with that.” You chuckled and rolled back onto your back.

“What would you want?” He asked you.

“A boy. For the same reason. Another little you. And all those adorable little bow ties and sweater vests I see at Target. Imagine our baby in a newsboy hat and little suspenders. Ugh. I want a baby every time I pass that aisle.”

“Okay, but tiny little girl dresses? With matching bows? Imagine wearing a matching dress with your daughter to a party.” Peter said to challenge you.

“That is adorable. I would love that, actually.” You agreed and looked over at him. Peter stared into your eyes and felt less scared about the uncertain future.

“What are you thinking?” You asked and pushed some hair off his forehead.

“So many things.” Peter admitted through a chuckle.

“Me too. But I feel less panicked than I did when we first found out. The pit in my stomach feels more like butterflies now.”

“I know we have a lot to learn but I don’t feel scared anymore. I’m kinda, I don’t know, happy. Is that weird?”

“You know what? So am I. As long as we have each other, what’s the worst that could happen?” You asked.

“We could raise a brat that grows up to be a menace to society.” Peter said and instantly regretted it when you looked at him in horror.

“Oh no. You’re right. I don’t know how to teach someone to be a good person from scratch. What if our kid ends up one of those annoying kids who screams when they don’t get their way?”

“Or worse. What if our kid is the kid who says they weren’t even playing when they’re found in hide and seek? Even though they were totally playing but can’t stand to lose.” Peter cringed.

“I hated those kids.” You whispered.

“I did too. But what made them that way? I’m guessing it was their parents but how? How do we make a kid happy without raising them to expect to always get their way?”

“I have no idea.” You sighed. “And I don’t want a kid who can’t eat without watching an IPad but I also don’t want to have to listen to crying all day. What’s the balance?”

“Is there one?”

“I don’t know. Oh God, Peter. I don’t know anything.” You realized and began to panic again. You laid in silence for a while as your minds ran wild. You were both busy thinking of every annoying kid you knew in your childhood and wondered how they became that way.

“Imagine they’re a good kid, though. What if our kid is the one that sits with the kid who’s sitting alone? Or makes a circle bigger to include everybody in the conversation? You do things like that. I do too. What if they’re a good person that we can both step back and be proud of?” Peter asked into the night. You felt a tear roll down your cheek and slid into your ear as you stared at the stars on the ceiling.

“What if I’m not capable of raising a kid like that? What if I’m too young and inexperienced to teach someone else how to be good?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that. I think you’ll be a great mom.” Peter said and sat up to look at you. You stared into his eyes and smiled a little.

“You’ll be a great dad.” You said quietly. He smiled and bent down to kiss you before laying his head back on the pillow.

“What do you think my dad’s gonna say?” You wondered. “How’s he gonna take it?” “

“Probably not great. And then he’s probably gonna take a bat to my head.” Peter replied, making you laugh at the honesty.

“My parents are gonna be so disappointed in me.” You sighed. “They’re gonna think I’m so irresponsible for this. What if they kick me out?”

“Then we don’t need them.” Peter said simply. “Whatever happens, I’m not going anywhere. We’ll always have each other. And once your parents see our squishy and adorable baby, they’ll have to forgive us. No one can stay mad at a squishy baby.”

“You know what? You’re right. We’re not teenagers. This isn’t exactly what we planned but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Maybe this will be okay.”

“I think it will be. I don’t know anything about raising a baby but I know that I love you. And that I can’t wait to do this with you. There’s no one else I’d rather be starting a family with.”

“Really?” You asked hopefully.

“Really.” Peter assured you.

“Okay. You’re right.” You decided. “Whatever happens, it’s gonna be okay. We’re in this together.”

“We’re gonna have a cake baby.” Peter said with an excited smile.

“Cake baby!” You laughed and leaned into his side. Peter wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

You fell asleep that night with your mind at ease. When you woke up, you accidentally knocked a few books onto the floor. You sat up and looked around at the sea of baby books that Peter had put on the bed. He was sitting up as well and reading a book with a pregnancy bump on the cover.

“Morning, honey.” Peter turned away from his book to smile at you.

“Good morning. What is all this?” You laughed sleepily and picked up one of the books.

“Just some light reading.” He chuckled as well. “I went to the library this morning to get some books for expecting parents. I would’ve taken you with me but I wanted to let you sleep in since you’re making life in your body and all that.”

“Aw, wait. That’s so sweet of you, P. And incredibly crazy to think about.” You said and lifted your shirt to look at your stomach. It was hard to imagine that there was a person growing in there.

“That’s not the only crazy thing. These books are insane. Did you know babies can’t have water until they’re at least 6 months old?”

“No, I didn’t know that. Wow. You learned that in there?” You asked and curiously picked up one of the books.

“There are so many interesting things I didn’t know in here. I checked out as many as they’d let me so that we could start reading up.” Peter explained as you flipped through one of the books. You touched one of the pictures of a mother holding her baby and then touched your stomach.

“This is perfect, Peter. Thank you.” You smiled sincerely and squeezed his shoulder.

“It’s the least I could do. You’re the one doing the hard part. I also asked May to help us find a good doctor. She said we should make an appointment for an ultimate sound soon.” He smiled back.

“It’s ultrasound.” You corrected with a chuckle.

“Oh. Right.” He laughed as well. “See? I’m learning already.”

“You are. And I’m proud of you. But this is a lot of information to read.” You sighed as you scanned the sea of books on the bed.

“It is.” He agreed. “But we’re two people. And a lot of this stuff repeats between the books. I’ve read about cradle cap six times already.”

“Ew. What’s that?”

“I’d tell you but you haven’t eaten yet.” Peter mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“Speaking of eating, I would love to do that right now.”

“Of course. You’re eating for two now.” Peter’s said and got out of the bed. Before you could respond, he scooped you up and carried you to the kitchen.

“Peter. I can walk.” You laughed as he gently set you down in a seat.

“I know. But I don’t want you to slip and fall and have our baby come out with a flat head or something.”

“I don’t even think they have a head yet.” You pointed out. “I’m pretty sure the baby is just a blob in my uterus right now.”

“Don’t call our child a blob. They’ll hear you.” Peter whispered.

“Will they?”

“They could. Now can pregnant people eat cereal?” Peter’s asked as he read the side of a box of Reese’s Puffs.

“I’m pretty sure they can.” You chuckled.

“Okay. Then this should be safe.” Peter nodded and poured some into a bowl for you to eat. You thanked him as he sat beside you at the table.

“I hope our kid doesn’t play sports because I really don’t want to sit through games for the next 18 years of my life.” Peter said once you were both eating.

“Maybe they’ll be like you and be a total nerd with no extracurricular activities.” You teased.

“As long as they’re not a band kid like their mama.” He mumbled.

“Watch yourself.” You warned. As you ate breakfast, you discussed all the little hopes and fears you had for your future kid. Peter theorized that the kid would be into science but you saw them being more artistic. Peter was sure you were going to have a genius kid but you imagined them more as a kid who wasn’t a natural at anything but tried their hardest at everything. The more you debated what your future kid would be like, you more excited you felt to meet them.

You and Peter decided to give yourselves a week before telling your family about the baby. In that time, you became fully confident in your decision to keep the baby. Throughout the week, you and Peter read up on baby books and spent countless hours watching mommy bloggers online to begin to prepare yourselves. You swung by Peters apartment one morning to pick him up before going to tell your parents together.

“You ready to go?” You asked Peter.

“Wait one second.” He said and disappeared into his room. When he came back, he had a yellow gift bag with some crumpled tissue paper poking out.

“For you.” He smiled proudly and handed you a bag.

“What’s this?” You asked as you reached into the bag. You pulled out a pair of little black converse, fit for a baby.

“Well, we don’t know if we’re having a girl or a boy yet but I know you love your converse, so.” He said sheepishly. You stared at the little shoes in your hands and felt your eyes well up with tears.

“Can you believe anyone’s foot can be this small?” You asked and held the baby sneaker up.

“Our kids foot is gonna be in there.” Peter said proudly and rubbed your arms up and down.

“We made a foot.” You whispered in disbelief.

“We made a kid.”

“With a foot.” You squeaked in excitement and shook the little shoe.

“Hopefully with two.” He chuckled.

“These are so cute. Thank you.” You put the shoes down and pulled him into a hug. He hugged you back for a long time and slowly swayed back and forth.

“You’re welcome. You ready to go tell your parents?” He asked once you pulled out of the hug.

“I guess so. Let me just pee first.” You said and went into the bathroom. Peter went on his phone to pass the time but noticed you were in there for awhile. Once twenty minutes had gone by and he hadn’t heard any sound from the bathroom, he knocked on the door.

“Honey? You okay in there?” He asked you. You unlocked the door and opened it so you could peak your head out a little.

“I got it.” You said with a sad smile.

“Got what?” Peter wondered. You took a deep breath but didn’t let your forced smile falter.

“I just got my period.” You told him and watched him carefully for a reaction. Peters eyebrows went up and he threw on a smile to match yours since he didn’t know how he should be feeling with that news.

“Oh.” He said and nodded his head.

“Mhm.” You nodded as well and blinked a few times to fight back the tears that were threatening your eyes. You didn’t know why you felt as emotional as you did, but at least you had your period to blame.

“That’s great, right? That means you’re not pregnant.” Peter said and kept his forced smile. He knew he should he relieved, but he felt disappointed. He just didn’t want you to know that.

“Yeah. It’s great. Now we don’t have to tell my parents anything. Because I’m not gonna have a baby.” You said and tried to force a laugh but it came out like more of a whimper.

“Honey?” Peter asked softly when he saw you fighting back tears.

“I’m not gonna have a baby.” You whispered and started to cry. Peter pulled you into his arms and let you cry into his shoulder until you could speak again.

“You’re sad?” He asked you.

“I don’t know. I didn’t think I wanted a baby right now. But I also thought I already had one. I guess I was more excited than I realized.” You said as you wiped your tears with your sleeves.

“I don’t understand. You took that test.”

“I looked it up. A bunch of things can make you have a false positive. I peed on the other test just to see.” You sighed and pulled out the other test you had taken. A big “not pregnant” was displayed on the tiny screen. Peter looked at it for a long time and didn’t understand the way he was feeling. If you had asked him two weeks ago if he wanted a baby, he would’ve laughed and said no way. But now, he felt disappointed that positive had been false. He knew he probably wasn’t ready to be a parent, but the emotional roller coaster of thinking he was about to become one only to be told it wasn’t true left him feeling empty inside. Whatever he was feeling, it seemed like you were feeling it ten times worse. It had hit you a lot harder than you expected and you felt silly for mourning the loss of something you never actually had.

“What are you thinking?” You asked as you studied his face.

“I don’t know how to feel.” He admitted.

“Me either.”

“It’s for the better. We weren’t ready.” He said and shrugged slightly. He didn’t really believe it, but he felt like he needed to make a decision for the both of you on how to feel in that moment.

“Yeah. That’s true. We’re too young. Maybe one day we can try again. But I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.” You nodded and smiled weakly.

“I would’ve been nice, though.” He said after a long beat of silence. Tears slowly filled your eyes as you stared down at the shoes that were not going to be filled.

“Yeah.” You said quietly as you toyed with the laces. “It would’ve been nice.”

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