#school fits highschool

[roomselfcontain2]

One bedroom flat for rent visit website brand new virgin house pls note this house is inside inside street o not close to the road with good light not a tarred road pop it can be accessed through adageorge by new road or nta road by corner stone ozuoba in port Harcourt city rivers state Nigeria.

[tojiscrack]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐍

pairing: megumi fushiguro x reader

summary: 18k words — you and megumi meet for the first time and experience kindergarten together.

notes: this is the fic i’ve been working on for a little while. a childhood friends to lovers with megumi because he’s so underrated (and deserves better!!). updates will be slow, but only because the chapters will range from 10-12k and maybe even more. check the tags to see if this story will interest you — i’ll make sure to add the tropes, what to expect, and the general gist of it all <3 enjoy! here is also sneak peak (a small scene from some of the future chapters) to be certain that this is the story for you :)))

tw: slightly bad english in dialogue (done on purpose as the characters presented are kids), y/n (she deserves her own warning), and idk, offended gojo

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

next chapter :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

2007-2008 kindergarten

you sat on the floor, the rough carpet scratching up against your shorts as you flattened out your skirt in preparation for your story-telling. the loud giggles around you had quietened notably. your classmates sat in a full circle, all facing you with contained anticipation and exhilaration. kimberly garnett sat with a fist in her mouth, grinning widely at you. malakai abara sat on his knees, bent forward with a smile on his face as he twisted the little dreads on his head with his small finger. the rest of the kids simply awaited, laughing as you reached for the toy torch and held it beneath your chin.

silently, you flipped the switch on... or rather struggled to flip the switch on. you heard several sighs from around you as you took the time to figure out what the issue was, until at last, the light had turned on (and blinded you in the process).

clearing your throat, you sat up straighter, eyes half-lidded as your story began:

"a long, long time ago, far away, once upon a time, there was a girl... and her name was bloody mary," you began, slowly. the other kids watched you with wide eyes. "she was killed by some bad guy. and then he trapped her inside a mirror."

"but how?" ayaan miah had asked, looking fearful.

you regarded him with little care.

"none of your beeswax, anyways! erm — so basically — erm — oh my god, ayaan! look what you done! now i can't remember!"

every kid in the circle whined and moaned out ayaan's name, frustrated at the boy's interruption. you shut your eyes, attempting to remember, and when you had opened them, you had been met with ayaan's flushed brown skin. you decided that you would save him then, seeing as you had remembered the story once more.

"wait guys, it's fine. i remember now."

everyone sighed in relief, their smiles returned.

"okay, so..." you sighed. "now when kids are being very bad, my mommy says that if you go in the mirror and say 'bloody mary' three times and then you spin around — then — then — then she's gonna come out and then she's gonna get her long nails and then she's — she's gonna try and kill you. and then there's gonna be so much blood."

your eyes passed each and every one of their faces, scanning their features; they looked traumatised.

from the corner of your eye, you caught slight movement. immediately, your head turned in that direction, met with the sight of amira khalil shakily raising her hand. it seemed that she had wanted permission to speak — you nodded your head at her, encouraging her to voice her thoughts.

"is there any way to save yourself?" she said timidly.

her wise question had led the rest of the kids to nod and look at you with big, curious eyes, seemingly pleased with her question and wondering what the answer would be.

you thought for a moment, scratching your head and accidentally moving the hair clip your mother had placed in your hair. you quickly adjusted it and then placed both your hands on the torch again, ready to answer.

"so, basically, you can pretend to die," you told them carefully. you did not like how the smiles on their faces had returned, looking satisfied with your response.

the kids had immediately begun speaking to each other, excitedly having discussions about how bloody mary was not ever going to be able to get them now that they had found a solution. you narrowed your eyes at them, a sneer on your face as you loudly interrupted the discussions.

"but!" you had said loudly. their attention was back on you, frowns forming and smiles disappearing. that's better, you had thought to yourself. "not to bubble your burst... but — but — like, she can get her finger and put it underneath your nose to see if you're breathing. and you can't hold your breath because she will hold it there for a long time," you added quickly as the smartest kid in your class (alexa clement) opened her mouth to put in her input. she had shut it as soon as the last word had been uttered.

kimberly garnett had long since taken her fist out of her mouth, not looking nearly as content as she had once been when she had first taken a seat across from you on the carpet.

"i think i'm scared..." she said, hesitantly.

you nodded, chin in the air. "yeah, you should be. but i'm not scared."

"huh?" gasped david yeboah, mouth parted in shock (similar to the rest of the kids in the circle). "how? what if she comes to kill you if you call her?"

you had your answer prepared since the moment you had stepped past the doors of the kindergarten building that morning.

"um — she — she's my friend, so — um — she won't kill me. and she said that if you guys don't give me your toys, then she will kill you," you explained, watching as they had all started scrambling to find their toys and place them by your feet.

another successful story-telling day.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

tired of playing with the same old toys, your boredom had reached its peak and you had decided that you would venture about and find something else to do. standing up, you stretched out your little legs and went waddling over to the toy box, searching for anything else to dig out and begin entertaining yourself with.

the toy box had been placed opposite to the teachers desk (which was also situated beside the interactive whiteboard). the rest of the room had five separate group tables leaving the centre of the room empty and bare (space for you and your classmates to sit on the floor when miss huckleberry would sing a nursery rhyme or read a boring story book).

the toys were not appealing to the eye, but you had just seen elena holland playing with a princess doll — you wanted it. it looked pretty, and squinting your eyes from a distance told you that the princess was actually rapunzel.

you wanted it even more now. rapunzel was the best disney princess in your opinion. you wanted that doll.

elena holland had always sat and listened to your scary stories, she had quietly listened to every single one of them since the first ever group circle had been initiated. therefore, by default, the doll had to be yours.

confidently, you marched up to elena, smiling as she noticed you approaching. you did not beat around the bush, nor did you attempt to sugar coat what you wanted.

"you have to give me that doll."

and the most shocking thing had happened to you after that.

elena had said:

"no."

startled, stupefied, and shocked, you looked back at her, scanning her pale face with disgust. you would give her the benefit of the doubt... perhaps with all the stories you had told, maybe she had forgotten the rules, the outcomes, or the consequences of not listening to your instructions.

that was quite all right. you were more than happy to remind her.

"okay, well, because you said no to me, bloody mary is my friend and she's gonna come and kill you... so yeah."

and you had found yourself absolutely flabbergasted when the girl had a well-prepared response to that. it had clearly been thought out.

"that's not true," said elena.

you frowned. "huh?"

"bloody mary's not real," she clarified for you, as if you had made up the story for your own enjoyment (which, you had, but that was not the point).

you resisted the urge to snatch the doll from her hands and run off with it, uncaring of whether she cried or not, unbothered as to whether you would end up in the naughty corner for the third time that day. your only concern was who had broken the news to her, who had ruined the entire purpose of your stories.

probably a teacher, you thought to yourself, scowling in annoyance.

well now it meant that you had to repair the damage. what a hassle.

"someone told me," elena added, as though that comment was ever so helpful (it was not).

"okay," you shrugged, acting careless. "don't blame me when bloody mary comes to you at night. i warned you."

elena had not wasted any more time in giving you the doll; you were pleased

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the next few days were rather unpleasant. you had not been in the greatest mood on one particular morning: the sun had woken you up that day, your mother had forced you to go in to kindergarten despite your strong protests, you had lost the class game, and you had been sent to the naughty corner at one point — which, on a normal day, would not have bothered you in the slightest: the issue lied with the stupid assistant teacher that had been told to watch over you because apparently, you could not be trusted to stay put. not to mention, you had an extra ten minutes in comparison to the other kids.

you had no plans on doing your typical story-tellings, yet your other classmates had been bugging you since the moment you had passed the double doors on your way in. initially, you refused them, in foolish hopes of the fact that they'd accept it and move on.

they didn't.

they pleaded for your story, claiming that they would truly stay silent, no questions, as you entertained them. you did not believe it, not even a sock could silence the annoying giggles and chatter of those classmates of yours.

but to stop their consistent begging, you had given in (albeit, reluctantly) and not long after, you found yourself sitting in that circle again, waiting for everyone to gather themselves.

"oh my god, kenji, shut up!" you scolded the dark haired boy who had been laughing loudly and preventing you from starting. your tone was harsh, aware that this particular classmate of yours would not take any offence to your comments towards him (unlike anyone else, who you knew would end up in tears, resulting in you sitting in that naughty corner once again).

"sorry," kenji lee chuckled, but you could not help but think that he did not look one bit sorry.

as the chatter around you began to die down, you repressed the urge to rip the stupid bow placed on your head that had been pulling on a particular strand of your hair for some time, and throw it at someone (kenji).

impatiently, you handed the torch to the girl next to you: you had very little tolerance for the struggle of attempting to switch the light on without wasting time. as you waited for her to click it on, you noticed that she was a newcomer, you had never seen her in class and you knew for a fact that she was not in the other class either. surely you would have been told?

the girl proved to be helpful, she had successfully switched the torch on and with a small 'thanks', you took the torch from her hands and placed it beneath your chin (again, almost blinded from the angle of the light shining just below your eyes).

this time around, you did not waste time with a slow introduction to your story, caring less and less for the enjoyment of your peers.

"so there was this man and his name is freddy krueger," you began, watching confusion rise on your classmates' faces. perhaps they were used to your long introductions (the typical 'once upon a time' etc). you did not care for it. "he used to be very handsome and then his wife found out that he was cheating on her and then burnt his face."

as promised, none of the kids raised their hands to ask 'how?' or question something very obvious. your bad mood had been knocked down an inch.

"so now he comes for naughty kids who keep cheating in games," you stated, staring specifically at christopher allen who you strongly believed to have cheated in order to win the class game that morning (stupid miss huckleberry had been adamant that he had truly won fair and square).

the silence that you had been revelling in for a short moment had been interrupted harshly. you'd heard malakai's aggravating voice distract you, ripping you from your hardening glare towards christopher, whose eyes were slowly starting to water for whatever reason.

"did fred have —"

you interrupted him.

"no you can't call him that, only i can."

malakai's eyebrows raised so far up, there were lines on his forehead. another voice cut in through the conversation: it was abby milton.

"y/n, how are you friends with every single bad guy?" she had asked, curious.

you had no choice but to step in and correct her.

"they're not bad guys because i changed them so yeah... they're mis— mis— misuntood."

you were ninety-nine percent sure that none of the kids in the circle knew what that word meant, but none of them dared to ask.

"oh, i forgot," you added, just as you had nearly placed the torch away. hurriedly, you brought it right back beneath your chin. "if — if — if — if you, like, don't keeping on telling off me... then he... umm... yeah, he won't kill you."

you did not specify (with your eyes or your voice) who you were referring to, but you had decided that the same went for the rest of the kids anyway. that naughty corner would be the death of you, you were sure of it. at least now, with this threat looming over their heads, you would not be in the naughty corner for a long, long time to come.

shortly after, you had quickly put the torch away and made your way to the book corner, attempting to entertain yourself with some of the new books the kindergarten had gotten. several of the other kids had decided that they were not done yet, that they still had questions that remained unanswered about freddy krueger. the only thing that deterred them was the threat that you would never tell another story if they bothered you this much again. 

looking disappointed, and mildly annoyed, they had walked off, grumbling about how they had no way to protect themselves from yet another evil entity. you shrugged it off, distracted by the pretty fairy lights and cushions decorating the book shelf. pleased with the presentation of the area, you admired the way the warm colour emanated from the little light bulbs attached to the silver wire. several posters lined the top of the bookshelf, promoting 'silent reading' and so on.

accompanying you some time later had been abby milton, complaining about how she wanted you to give more clarification about freddy krueger (you tried not to sigh loudly, thinking about how you had only just gotten peace about the matter).

"i'll tell miss," she decided on saying at last, something that had finally caught your attention after practically ignoring her pleas since the moment she had sat down beside you.

"freddy krueger will come get you in night time then."

and you were certain (after she had voiced out her response to that) that you were facing deja vu for the first time.

"somebody said you're lying," said abby, swiping her messy hair away from her face. "somebody said freddy krueger isn't real."

you attempted to mask over the fury you had now adopted, trying to hide the mix of confusion and curiosity too: as if your mood wasn't already terrible, you were practically a ticking time bomb, and the timer was slowly reaching its peak.

but your suspicions were now confirmed — there was someone out there sabotaging you: if it had been a teacher, like you originally suspected, then, one: you would have found yourself in time out again, and two: she wouldn't have threatened to tell off of you, seeing as the teacher would have already known about it.

it was one of your classmates. you were certain now.

reminded of the fact that not all of your peers entered the circle of your story-telling time, you could narrow down your options. someone outside of the circle was your culprit.

but again, you were not in the mood to spend the time investigating. so, instead, you decided to flat out ask her who this mystery person was.

"well they're a liar," you said, standing up and dusting yourself off, looking around. "they basically want you to get — to — to die." you looked down at her, brows furrowed. "anyways who even said that?"

"megumi."

and now you were more than offended. you were absolutely ready to beat down a boy, but for a fellow girl to turn around and stab you in the back with no remorse? that stung. it felt like she (whoever she was) had plunged a knife right through your back and pushed it all the way to your heart, practically carving out your insides to her pleasure.

ignoring her calls for you, you walked away and exited the classroom, standing in the playground and looking furtive. the sun shone over the unused bikes and the abandoned hula-hoops on the floor as members of both classes ran around and played together. the sight hurt your eyes, the headache of yours stirring even further and worsening with each passing minute.

and what was worse? malakai, that annoying peer of yours, had appeared in front of you somehow. you had looked away for a mere second, how had he reached you without your awareness?

"can you please tell me what freddy krueger stays away from? i'm scar—"

"listen," you started, the timer in you now at one digit numbers, "i forgot to say that fred also kills people who keep bov— bovering me, so you have to leave me alone."

just when you thought you were done with this conversation, someone else had decided to join in, but once they had spoken...

you were certain your hunt for the enemy had been over.

"stop lying."

leisurely, your head turned. it seemed as though a thousand years had gone by, but really, it had only been a short fifteen seconds till you had turned enough to be met with the sight of a... a boy?

a million and one questions had passed your mind in that short moment you made eye contact with the boy who looked as though you had eradicated his entire bloodline. had you misheard abby? you were certain the name of the sabotag-er was megumi, a girl name. 

but you were absolutely, one hundred percent, definitely certain that this boy was unquestionably the one going around ruining your plans, corrupting the minds of your classmates to turn them against you.

and the kid looked goofy too, you had thought, with his dark-as-night hair standing on all ends, his equally-as-dark eyes half-lidded as if he had not a care in the world, and his face forming an unmoveable frown, looking more than unimpressed. 

well that made sense. the metaphorical knife was now non-existent, since your initial assumption had been correct — it was a dumb boy after all.

"who," you began, defensive, "are you? i've never even seen you in my life."

but it wasn't (who you assumed was) megumi that answered. you had just realised that malakai was still in the picture.

"that's megumi guro!" he had said, loud and clear.

you regarded him with a short look before staring back at megumi guro, who had somehow appeared more grumpier than when you had first gazed at him. 

"it's fushi-guro," said megumi what's-his-face.

you scowled at him. 

"if you keep saying that again and again and again, freddy krueger's gonna come to you in the —"

"he's not even real."

malakai had gasped. you glared at megumi fushiguro.

"you know what? you're not even real megumi fushigo!"

"it's fushiguro," he repeated, stoic.

"i said that."

"no you didn't."

malakai had disappeared by this point, perhaps bored with this interaction between you and megumi fushiguro.

"yes i did," you repeated, frustrated. no other kid had ever challenged you, this megumi child was starting to put a bad taste in your mouth.

"no you —"

"yeah stop subject changing."

"you mean changing the subject."

"oh my gosh!" you exclaimed, scratching at your thigh which proved to be unsatisfying seeing as your tights were in the way. "you listen here with your girl’s name! you are a girl!"

"..."

megumi fushiguro had not said anything for a while, choosing to stay silent as he stared back at you. uncertain of whether you had seen it properly, but you could have sworn that you'd seen his eye twitch ever so slightly.

"not a girl's name," he grumbled quietly.

you gave him a tight-lipped smile. 

"liar, liar, pants on fire!" you shouted, pointing at him like he had committed a brutal crime in front of your very eyes. smug, you looked at him with a real smile this time. "who's the liar now?"

but megumi's response had come just as quick as you had finished yours.

"still you."

"no, it's both of us!"

"you just admitted to lying."

"..."

astounded, staggered, and stupefied, you stared back at megumi, mouth parted and jaw dropped. you had only just realised your mistake there, the smugness you had previously adopted now diminished and killed just as it had come. nobody had ever rendered you speechless before, you had always gotten your way. usually, people would simply leave you to have the last word in defeat, but this megumi... megumi had got you there, because you just had admitted to lying.

"...MIIIIIIISS, megumi slapped my butt!"

"megumi did not slap your butt y/n."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

"now you want to go to school, huh?" your mother mused as she pulled your hair back into a ponytail and began tying a silk ribbon into it.

it had been a week since you had met megumi fushiguro, and since then, it seemed as though he was everywhere. every story you had scared your other classmates with, he just had to be there to tell them the truth, corrupting them (in your eyes).

he had been actively undoing every tale you would tell and it was starting to irritate you. the only way you could win this silent battle was actually attending kindergarten, even if you had a pounding headache and had woken up on the wrong side of bed.

now you were seated on the floor, your mother on the soft couch as she worked to style your hair.

"i don't want to go," you grumbled, hissing when your mother had accidentally pulled at your hair ('oh, sorry honey'). "but i have to."

"yes, you do," your mother hummed in agreement, and you had quickly corrected her.

"no, not like that, mommy," you said, playing with the ends of your skirt as you attempted to explain yourself and what you really meant. "i have to because — because there's this really dumb boy that's just keeping on ruining things.”

"you mean keeps on ruining things?"

you sighed loudly, feeling restless. at the moment, the way you spoke was the least of your concerns. your mother could correct you later, not when you were in distress.

"i'm sorry, go on," she said, but you could hear the amusement in her voice, as if she’d made an attempt to mask her laughter (it didn't work). "what's his name?"

"he has a girl name," you said, feeling smug again. “i told him he has a girl name.”

"y/n, that's not nice," said mom, although she was gentle with her scolding.

"he's not nice," you replied defensively. “anyways, his name is megumi."

your mom laughed softly, tightening your pony tail and then leaning forward to fix the baby hairs with a bit of gel. she knew to use very little of it seeing as you disliked the way it felt on your head.

"that is a girl name, isn't it?"

"mhm," you nodded ('y/n don't move, i'll make a mistake).

"but…” she said, lifting you and putting you on the couch so you were now facing each other in order to do the front of your hair neatly. she spoke slowly so as to remain concentrated on your hair. "you still... can't... say that now, can you... hm, y/ n?"

you shrugged, and then immediately apologised when you realised you had moved.

"he deserves it."

“i'm sure... he does." said mom, smiling ever so slightly. "he's... megumi-what?"

she used a small toothbrush to clean out the sides of your forehead.

"megumi fushigo."

your mother paused, leaning back and staring at you in surprise. the toothbrush was still firm in her grip, but it was no longer pressed against your hair due to her arms deflating. she raised her eyebrows at you, mouth parted in what looked like to you as realisation.

"you mean fushiguro?" she said, taking you by surprise too.

"yeah, i said that," you responded easily. "how do you know him?"

"oh no, i don't know him,” she told you honestly, lifting the toothbrush and getting back to work with the gel again. “but i know the fushiguros. they live across from us, y/n.”

you looked up at your mom, mouth agape.

"he's our neighbour?"

"they have been... for... some time... yes," she answered, nodding slightly.

it seemed as though the universe was on your side: this meant that you could sabotage him if you really wanted to, too. who was to stop you from shouting out his door number in class? what if you met his parents and made a formal complaint about him? surely even a five year old could have some influence over matters such as a small rivalry?

"can i egg his door?"

“y/n."

"sorry."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

"y/n, you know the boogeyman guy?" said amira khalil, timid after she'd explained how she had to work up the courage to approach you.

you nodded.

"yeah, my mommy and i feed him every night," you said calmly, head down as you coloured in the big monster you'd drawn. "i think i already told you about him."

"you did,” said amira, confirming your thoughts. she was twiddling her thumbs, looking nervous. “i searched up him online with my older sister... i saw a video."

you looked up at her, patiently waiting for her to complete her sentence. she must have approached you for more than just some small information on what she'd got up to with her sister the other night. you guessed that maybe it had something to do with your knowledge.

"how do i protect myself from the boogeyman?" she finally asked, picking at her nails.

you shrugged.

“if my mommy and me forget to feed him, then he might come out."

amira's hesitant smile had dropped completely, brows raised and lip wobbling.

"but it's okay! we always remember to feed him," you reassured her. “but sometimes i can forget when someone distracts me — like if you — if you keeping on using the colouring pens when i need them — sometimes — sometimes it stays on my mind so i forget to feed him in the night.”

the poor girl did not look reassured in the slightest.

"but... but what if you get distracted over somefing else and then — then you f-forget to feed him?"

"that won't happen because he's not even real," said megumi, who had somehow appeared behind you despite this classroom not being his.

amira's cheeks flushed a warm colour.

“he’s not?"

you slammed your hand against the table and stood up.

“this is distracting me" you snapped, to which amira's eyes had widened and she realised what that meant.

"don't worry! i'll try and get my mom to remind your mom to feed him tonight."

and thankfully, before megumi could interrupt her straight-forward thoughts even further, she ran away, heading for the toilets.

you sighed irritably. this interaction had completely altered the rest of your day. instead of sitting in front of the tv for the rest of the evening, now you had a change of plans: sit by the home telephone and impersonate your own mother to make sure the news never got to your mom.

"why are you even here? this isn't your class, imposter!"

"i had to give something to miss huckleberry."

"go away, fushigo."

“it's — never mind."

———

"y/n, are you meant to be here?" miss turner had asked you, but only after you had entered the doors of the other class.

you noticed the most biggest difference between your classroom and the other classroom: the teacher’s desk was not on the left side, it was on the right. furthermore, there were only four group tables, not five, leaving more carpet space. instead of two toy boxes, there were three, filled to the brim with toys like lego, dolls and trucks.

you preferred your own classroom, especially when this one's bookshelf lacked any personality (where were the pretty fairy lights?).

"yeah, i am," you answered with a smile. "i — um — i had — i had to — i had to give something to you from miss huckleberry."

"oh?" said miss turner, and you had seen her big, brows eyes scan your empty hands. on instinct, you put them behind your back and smiled. "so... what is it? where is it?"

"um —”

and then you heard that dawdling voice again.

"it's not even real.”

you desperately wanted to turn around and elbow him in the face. you were the same height, it would have definitely worked too, but though you were impulsive, you were not reckless — in the direct presence of a teacher, his teacher too, you knew better.

miss turner's eyes had darted from you to megumi, curiosity lacing her soft features.

"what do you mean by that, megumi?"

"she's lying, miss."

one day, you vowed, as miss turner walked you back to your class by your hand, you will find a way to annoy him just as much as he annoys you.

———

the playground seemed even bigger now that everyone had been occupied by the new toys brought to fill the toy boxes inside. at first, you felt excited about it: new toys meant new entertainment. however, after seeing what the toys were, it had not taken you too long to lose interest.

still, there were a fair few of you outside, playing tag and running around till your breaths ran out.

you were on the twin swings with gabriela robinson (short name: gabi). it would have been enjoyable if that teacher assistant wasn't practically breathing down your neck, making sure everyone was behaving. why couldn't she have watched from the top of the slide? it created a wider field of vision anyway, why was she choosing to stand behind you?

“look, it’s megumi on the bike!” gabi had pointed out.

indeed, she was correct: it really was megumi on a bike, simply riding around with it in circles.

boring, you thought in your head.

"you know, megumi has a girl name, how funny is that?" you gossiped in hushed tones, chuckling and giggling at the thought just as megumi had passed you with the bike.

you almost choked on your own giggles when megumi slid to a stop right in front of you. he did not look pleased.

"y/n, that's not very nice," that annoying voice of the teacher assistant had cut in.

your smile fell, serious-looking as you turned your head to look back at her and say, “i wasn't talking to you."

the woman's face had turned angry.

"go to the naughty corner!"

you did not put up a fight. you got off the swings, glared at megumi (he was still looking at you without any visible emotion) and then walked yourself back inside.

you made another vow to yourself: that stupid teacher assistant would be your enemy from that day onwards.

———

"i saw your dad yesterday," you said to megumi, approaching him on the playground by the sand pit.

neither of you were in the sand pit. in fact, megumi looked disgusted at the mere sight of it. he was such a picky person in your mind — had he spent most of recess simply judging the sand pit?

he seriously needed help.

"why is he so fat?" you asked bluntly.

if your statement earlier hadn't caught his attention, what you just commented did. oddly enough, he did not look as offended as you had expected him to be. he simply looked... baffled, as though the way his dad looked was self-explanatory (which, it was, he was fat in your eyes, so why did he look at you like what you had just asked was all sorts of wrong?).

"he's not fat,” he said, just as bluntly. he stared back at you as though it were obvious.

"yes he is," you shot back, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "i saw him. and i saw him taking you to school so that — that means he's fat in the morning and fat at night too!"

he exhaled through his mouth, looking away and grumbling something about how he thought his mom was lying about you living near. you ignored that, still demanding answers.

"so why is he fat?"

“he’s not,” said megumi, emphasising the final word. “it’s his muscles.”

"does he eat too much?" you questioned as if you hadn't heard him. "what do you guys always have for dinner? probably — probably — er — burgers and fries and soda and lots of ice cream right? but your dad maybe takes too much, is that why you're so skinny?"

megumi's gaze hardened, face stony as he clarified harshly, "it's called muscles.”

but then a thought had just occurred to you, one that had you absolutely startled and staring off into space, watching as alexa clement hopped off the swings and left it moving back and forth with momentum. what if, you questioned to yourself, megumi ended up like his dad? what if he ended up learning how to be extremely fat?

you didn't hate megumi, of course. you never hated him, you just found him to be a thorn at your side. however, that did not mean that you would allow even a thorn at your side to grow as fat as his very father.

"megumi...”

and now you found yourself unwilling to imagine a very unhealthy and fat megumi, yet your brain just did not listen to you, the picture already set in your head. you slowly turned your head to look at him, eyes wide with worry.

"what.”

"oh my gosh... what if you end up like that?"

he looked as deadpanned as ever.

“i won’t.”

"megumi it's — it's gonna be fine because — because my mommy learned me how to make a lunchbox," you explained seriously. "i’ll help you make a healfy one so you — like — you don't look like your dad and become fat.”

"leave me alone," he said, annoyed.

he kicked and stomped at the floor, the sand left over flying up and entering your mouth. you coughed and spat at the floor, shouting at megumi, but you had heard the sound of his footsteps distancing themselves from you, a little too fast to be considered a walk. he had run away from you after leaving you to practically die at the taste of sand.

“MIIIIIIISS!”

———

the middle of october meant that there would be a parent-teacher conference. although it seemed too early (the other kindergarten schools do it much later on in the year) the one week holiday was nearing and it meant that a formal report had to be given to your parents about your behaviour, attitude to learning, relationships with other students, etc.

a lot of the parents had lined up by the double doors, the wall separating the two classrooms had been pushed away somehow (you had sat staring at it for a while) and the classrooms were now merged to be one big ‘boss' classroom (as you would say).

with the rest of you students having nothing to do but wait for your parents to finish their individual meetings with your teachers, you all huddled together and made conversation. you learnt the names of the students from the other class, interacted with them, and asked which of the adults were their parents.

your mother seemed to be running late, so you couldn't answer that question.

but someone (david yeboah) had asked megumi (who was standing across from you) who his dad was.

after megumi's stunt the other day, you felt the need to get back at him, embarrass him if you will. anyway, it wasn't your fault that his dad didn't have a healthy diet.

“guys,” you said loudly, as though you were making an important announcement — you were. "megumi's dad is a fatty!"

all of the kids stared at you in awe, some had even whispered ‘really?'. you nodded, ignoring the hard stare megumi was directing at you.

"yeah," you said in a hushed tone, quiet, but loud enough for all of the kids to hear you. “i saw him, he's really big, it's true! megumi's dad is a fatty —"

you turned around, nearly bumping head first into... megumi's dad's legs. you looked up, heart pounding from the vision above you.

if you thought he was big from a distance, then god knows what you thought now. his chest took up your entire sight, he was large enough to crush you with his fat hands if he so pleased.

the smirk that you had seen him wear before in the early mornings by his house had faded now. though, to your pleasure, he did not look angry at all. sure, his dark brows were knitting together as he looked down at you, and sure, his eyes were squinted. but he looked more confused than he did angry.

still, the realisation that he had heard you call him a 'fatty' made your heart race. not to mention, he looked terrifying from down there.

without a word, you simply turned the other way and speed-walked to the toy box, distancing yourself from him.

"woah…” you muttered to yourself, pressing a hand to your chest and feeling your heart beat hardly against it. “scary.”

———

you were sat by the book corner, a few other people occupying the bean bags with you. the school had bought a ton of new books for you to read, so lately, you'd been spending most of your time by the bookshelves and less and less of your time terrorising the other kids (and that teacher assistant).

you believed that the new books had been the best investment the school had made. however, it was bothersome when the other kids would beg you for story times again when you were clearly occupied.

besides that, it was blissful being able to find new entertainment in such a boring place.

at the moment, you had been showing your classmates the fiction book you had in your hands, a book that miss huckleberry stated had been shipped straight from the uk (someone failed in doing a good british accent too and it made you cringe).

it was about this girl (she had a silly name, you thought) called goldilocks and her adventure with the house belonging to three talking bears.

"no, david, that's not how the story went," you said wisely. “the baby bear went back in the room and saw goldilocks ru— ru— ruining everyfing.”

"that's not even real.”

you looked up: megumi was standing by the entrance of the book fort you had made for the book corner. he looked serious (when did he not?) and he was staring at the book held up in your small hands. in his own arms was a larger book, thin enough to imply that there wasn't much story to it, but unlike the other books, the book he possessed had real life images as its cover.

"it's goldilocks and the three bears," you informed him, eyes narrowed.

"yeah... and it's not even real."

"it's a book!"

he held up his own one.

"this is a book too."

"yeah, so that's not real either!"

"it is,” he said, with a tone of finality.

you were not having it:

"how come your book is real and mine isn't?"

"mine is non-fiction," said megumi, and you felt glee in your chest when he nearly stuttered over the word 'non-fiction’. megumi had never stuttered before, but he was also not super human either. he was the same as the rest of you. "yours is fiction. fiction means fake —"

"MIIIIIIISS! MEGUMI’S LYING!"

"y/n i am sitting right near you, you do not have to yell.”

———

though the academic year had not even been close to ending, the kindergarten had made a boring, old tuesday an open-day for future students to attend. current students were still required to go to school like usual, only, towards home-time, the kindergarten would be open till eight o’clock in the evening.

the year before, you had not stayed that late, seemingly bored with the idea. this year, however, your mother had to work late and could not pick you up. conveniently (for her, not you), the open-day fell right on her work overtime-day. she did not have to call for one of your aunts to come look after you (a hassle for her, really, because although her family loved you, they believed that you were a devil-child, hence the difficulty in trying to get them to come over).

several other kids had stayed back too, but only out of their own will.

apart from one particular child — megumi fushiguro.

he did not look happy at the prospect of staying for longer than when the clock hit three o’clock (home-time). you shared his displeasure silently, though there really was no need for him to be there, you noted, for you had seen his father accompany other parents by the coffee stand.

had he been forced there too? megumi’s fat dad looks annoyed, you thought to yourself.

you did not dwell too much on the thought, for you and the remaining kids had decided to play hide-and-seek. some of the new kids — accompanied by their parents — had joined in too. you did not mind, the more the merrier, especially when your actual classmates had refused to allow you not to be seeker.

you shrugged, uncaring of which role you played in the game.

so, eyes shut, you counted from one to twenty:

“one… two… three…” you counted, already bored. you continued. “…ten… eleven… twelve-thirteen-fourteen-fifteen —”

“hey no fair that’s cheating!” some whiny voice you didn’t recognise had spoken.

you scowled, turning around to see who it was: no surprise, it had been some random kid, not one of your classmates who knew better than to doubt you.

“found you, you’re out.”

the ginger kid looked scandalised.

“but —”

“sixteen… seventeen… eighteen…”

he ran off crying somewhere.

“nineteen-twenty!” you shouted quickly, jumping up and uncovering your eyes excitedly. “ready or not, here i come!”

you skipped along the classroom, picking out several dumb kids who had hidden in places that were very obvious to you. another one of those random new kids had stayed in the centre of the carpet (which was out in the open), crouched with his eyes shut.

you stared at him, deadpanned.

“i found you.”

and he had the audacity to ask “how?”.

dumb kid, you thought, as you walked out to the playground and saw some kids hiding behind the slide. in order to get there, you had to pass the coffee stand.

the sight of the teacher assistant looking bored and annoyed pleased you: a smile radiated your face which had previously been decorated with scowls and frowns.

you skipped past megumi’s dad along the way.

“hey fat-man we’re just playing hide-and-seek!” you informed him happily.

you did not wait for his response as you continued to run away, a jump in your step as you slowly got closer and closer to the slide; you had passed a stoic megumi, who simply stood there as you casually insulted his father. you could have sworn that you heard the insulted man audibly grunt, muttering something that sounded like ‘who is that child?’.

you did not have the time to entertain his questions: those kids were getting away.

———

mondays were the worst days in your opinion: it was the start of the week, meaning that you still had four more days to go before the weekend would arrive. the weekend was also only two days long, one day which you would spend stressing about monday being the day after that. it was unnecessary stress for a five year old.

mondays were also the days where that annoying teacher assistant would stay in your class more than the other class. you didn’t want her there, so why was she always present? it irked you, she held no purpose, really.

it had been nearing lunch time as you sat on the grass on the playground with two other girls: kimberly garnett and alexa clement. they had been telling you about how, apparently, a boy from the other class (alejandro henderson) had a crush on one of the girls from your class, though it was undiscovered who.

ultimately, it was a gossip session.

but the conversation of alejandro and his secret crush was starting to bore you. it was not long before the topic had changed.

“why is megumi alone all them times?” said kimberly, who had craned her head over her shoulder to look at the dark-haired boy — he was staring at some cat that had somehow ended up in the playground.

none of you had actually answered the question. none of you ever answered any questions, you simply spoke for the sake of it.

you leaned in, face gleaming with excitement as you put a hand over your mouth to whisper.

“megumi looks like a porcupine —”

“y/n!”

you stared up at the teacher assistant who somehow spawned in front of you. her eyes were fierce and demanding, staring at you with indignation. how had she heard you? you had been certain that you were whispering. did she somehow have super ears?

you did not say anything, choosing to remain silent. she raised a pointed brow at you, as though to say ‘explain yourself’, but you did not submit.

instead, with a sigh, you stood up, dusted your skirt off, and walked yourself back inside, claiming the time-out seat without having to be asked. and all the while, you felt eyes burn holes at the back of your head, knowing full well that they did not belong to the nosy teacher assistant.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the autumn season had hit hard as the month of october had slowly come to an end. by the point it had turned into november, you were now attending school with mittens, scarves, and a big coat.

one particular morning, you had woken up feeling giddy: your hatred towards summer was unmatched. in your mind, the autumn and winter days were the best, no questions asked.

you had gotten out of bed with a smile (for the first time in a while) and attended kindergarten without any protests — your mother had been pleasantly surprised and there were no complaints.

even the sight of megumi did not evoke annoyance out of you.

the kids had stopped asking for the stories you would tell seeing as darkness would hit the skies earlier than what you had all been used to: it meant that there would be more time for fear of the evil entities you told them all about should they ask for the stories. it was convenient, for you could still practically control your peers through the threats of the previous stories whilst also not being annoyed by being asked for new ones. besides, halloween had only just passed too, and kenji lee had claimed that he’d seen someone dressed up as the bloody ginger-woman — you did not believe him because you made that woman up for one of your old stories. ‘she wasn’t even real,’ you had said to him, and then slapped a hand over your mouth when you realised just who you had begun to sound like.

one particular frosty day, you approached megumi on the playground and simply stood beside him, curious to see what he had been staring at for the past five minutes. he gave you an odd look, but did not question you for accompanying him.

until he did.

rudely, too, you had to add.

“why are you just standing there, megumi?”

“why is your hands so pale right now?”

“what are you staring at?”

“how does your hair stay like that?”

“why —”

“what do you even want?” he had snapped, turning his head ever so slightly so as to glare at you with his cold, dark eyes.

you laughed.

“you can’t — you can’t — you can’t answer a question with — with another question,” you told him, chuckling. “silly billy.”

“you just asked me ten hundred… million… billion questions,” he scowled, looking away from you to stare at something in the distance again.

“that’s not a number —”

“shut up.”

“i’ll tell miss.”

“miss never believes you.”

you shrugged. fair point, you had thought. he raised a good argument. it was odd, any time you told off of anyone, it always ended up backfiring. however, if it were anyone else telling off of you instead, you’d end up warming up the naughty chair for a future sitter (most likely you again) as per usual.

“so…” you began, bending your knees slightly to crouch a little and reach megumi’s downcast eyes. “you didn’t answer my question.”

“which one?”

“what are you staring at?” you repeated, standing up straight again and letting your fingers intertwine in the comfort of your unconnected pocket of your coat.

megumi hesitated before answering.

“i saw a fox when my dad dropped me off.”

you looked around, inspecting the bushes.

“well maybe you was seeing monsters,” you said wisely. “my mommy says —”

“your mom never said anything,” megumi cut in icily, “it’s always you.”

for some reason, you did not find it in you to be offended. maybe it was because he hadn’t been lying — it was true: your mother never actually said anything, you simply used her as a way to lie about untrue facts. it was good to use someone older as a guide, less people denied your statements because of them. adults simply couldn’t be wrong.

“ok,” you began, unsure of where to continue. “okay well my mommy says i have to play with lonely kids so i’m just gonna play with you, all right?”

megumi, with his hands shoved in his designer coat (he was rich? his father didn’t look rich), glared at you, looking mildly offended. what had you said wrong?

it seemed that you would never know, not when he hadn’t bothered to say.

“no,” he said instead, and his tone seemed final.

you grinned. “oh, was that a yes?”

“no— i said no.”

you ignored him, feeling fidgety as you perked up excitedly.

“okay ready steady tag you’re it!”

you tapped him on his arm, excitedly running away from him. you knew that he wouldn’t chase after you, so you opted to not run very far and then skip around him, running in circles as he remained in the centre. and as per usual, he wore his signature scowl.

“stop it you’re making me dizzy,” said megumi.

you didn’t stop. you continued to run around him in circles, urging him to play.

“don’t you know how to play tag?” you asked, teasingly. “you know everything except tag —”

“no,” said megumi, but you could tell his resolve was faltering.

“i’m gonna keep running around you megumi! it’s fun!”

megumi stood completely still as your excitement grew, the blood beneath your skin running with adrenaline as the beat of your heart increased. with you alternating between skips and runs, you were slowly growing out of breath; mixed with your laughter only made it harder to keep it all up.

until the circles had stopped — megumi’s eye twitched and the next thing you knew, the dark haired boy was charging at you.

you squealed, frightened as you tried jogging away, but with how much you had ran in circles previously, your speed was not your greatest. it felt like a dream, your feet hitting the ground slowly.

“no — megumi —” you shouted, scared as you looked back and saw him catching up. “i didn’t” — you gasped for air — “think” — you exhaled — “you would” — you let out a breath — “actually chase me!”

and you had learnt a new thing about megumi that day: as small as you both were, his little legs took him far. he was probably the most speediest kid you had seen in your five years of living, the lesson learnt extremely well when you felt a hand press against your shoulder, pushing you forwards as you stumbled and halted, nearly falling over as you gathered your breath.

you turned around, shoulders raising and falling, chest heaving as you stared at him. his hair was still as dishevelled as ever, but he looked more ruffled than he usually did, tiny breaths of air falling from his nose.

“got you,” he had mumbled under his breath, staring back at you fiercely.

you looked back at him, scrambling for excuses.

“actually you didn’t get me,” you told him, extending your arm to hold onto the red roundabout, the crisp autumn leaves decorating its floor. “see? i’m home. you can’t get me because i’m safe.”

you gestured to the connection between your touch and the roundabout.

megumi’s brows had furrowed, a crease forming between his dark brows on his pale skin. he did not seem to agree with you, but unlike the other kids, it seemed as though he would keep up an argument with you.

“you just made that up,” he said, sounding confident in his statement.

“no,” you denied, truthfully. “ask — ask — er —” you stammered, looking around for a potential helper.

david had been crossed off the list immediately — he was rather stupid. kenji had been crossed too — he would try and go against you out of fun. nia akello, a girl from the other class you and megumi were both familiar with, would be perfect. she was not biased and had also been a victim of the ‘home’ rule in tag you’d introduced some time before.

“ask nia!” you said brightly, and before megumi could say anything in an argument, you waved at nia and called for her. “nia! hey! over here!”

confused and shocked, nia akello ran over to where you and megumi had been standing, out of breath by the time she had reached the two of you (it had been a short distance, arguably).

“nia, isn’t it true that —”

“shut up you’ll cheat,” snapped megumi.

you hadn’t been silenced by him, necessarily, you had been silenced into shock. and offence. you were very offended by the way he had spoken to you publicly.

whether he’d seen your expression or not, he had made no indication, for megumi had not wasted a second before he rushed into speaking to nia.

“is ‘home’ real in tag?”

“yep!” said nia, beaming. “can i go now?”

“n—”

“yes you can, nia,” you smiled, shooing her away before megumi could corrupt her into believing that a ‘home’ in tag did not exist.

to be completely honest, it didn’t exist. you simply made that up when you got tired of running so much and needed a break. in your defence, it was good! it made the game more interesting after all, what’s not to like about it?

apparently quite a lot of things, for megumi did not look the tiniest bit impressed (not that you had expected him to be anyway).

“fine,” said megumi, taking you by surprise. you took your hand off the roundabout as you listened to him speak. “the swings is the new home.”

“what —”

“i’m gonna chase you now.”

megumi took a step back, sliding his feet against the concrete as an act of intimidation — it was working.

you scrambled to look for an out.

“but —”

“five… four…”

“megumi —”

“three…”

“that’s not fai—”

“two…”

“wait!”

“one-and-a-half…”

“UGH!” you sighed, jumping up and running away with as much speed as you could gather.

megumi was on your heels the second you had taken off, having reached zero on his countdown. you had realised (as you pushed past several people to get away from the evil child), that you had foolishly ran away without looking at where you were heading, now finding yourself further and further away from the swings.

you looked back, cautious, and immediately regretted it when megumi’s face appeared inches from your own.

you let out a yelp at the sight of his raised hand and swerved away.

“this is —” you gasped out, scrunching up your dress as you ran; you had very nearly been caught, “SCARY!”

your throat grew dry, panting for breath whilst you dodged megumi’s hand. you made the dumb decision of looking back again, letting out a squeak when you had realised just how close he was getting.

“I WANT MY MOMMY —”

it had seemed that your call for your mother had drawn the attention of miss turner, the teacher of the other class. previously, she had been looking over the sandpit and making sure your peers hadn’t been making a mess, but as you neared it, she’d looked up and caught you sprinting.

“y/n? what’s —”

“MIIIIIIIISS!” you cried, just as megumi’s palm had fallen flat against your back.

dramatically, you tumbled forwards, sliding against the concrete and lying against it despite your disgust with all the dirt.

you opened your eyes, met with the sight of megumi staring down at you, chest heaving as he let out little pants out of exhaustion. still, even in his tired state, he did not look the slightest bit pleased.

“i win.”

you sat up, groaning. “no you —”

megumi did not wait for you to say your piece before he left, saying something to miss turner and then entering the building again without looking back at you.

and all the while, you smiled at the thought that you had basically forced megumi to play with you.

but that had been before you’d taken a look at the state you were in, and then inwardly cursed at yourself for playing such a dangerous game with a kid who had little care for anything at all.

home-time that day had been amusing too. your mother had been running late (miss huckleberry had informed you earlier) so you spent the time sitting outside with members of the other class and getting to know them better — it was mainly due to the fact that the teacher assistant had once again been breathing down your neck, you simply had to get away from her.

your chats were being cut short as the parents began turning up, which made you rather bored.

up until the point where megumi had to leave.

megumi had been sitting in the corner, a little two meter distance between you and the rest of his class. you had no idea whether that was a normal thing or not, you didn’t bother questioning it, merely chatting along with the other girls.

but then you’d heard miss turner say something rather interesting.

“megumi,” she had said, calling out to him from beside you. “you can go, your dad’s here.”

when indeed, his dad was not there. you frowned, looking around for the fat man that you knew to be megumi’s father. there were only several mothers, young women with strollers and other dads already occupied by their own children.

but in the far distance, approaching you all slowly, had been a man with white hair, taller than anyone you had ever seen, and wearing round, opaque sunglasses despite the weather being very gloomy.

but that simply couldn’t be megumi’s father: you knew megumi’s father. you’s seen megumi’s father. you’d spoken to megumi’s father. and that man, wearing a smirk worth gold, was certainly not megumi’s father.

and it seemed that megumi had agreed.

“he’s not my dad,” he had grumbled, hiding the lower part of his face behind his designer coat.

“yes, yes, your godfather —”

“you have a godfather?” you spoke up, curious.

megumi glared at you, eyes narrowed.

“i didn’t know that!” you beamed, looking back at the white-haired man.

you hopped off of the long bench you had been sitting on, approaching megumi without taking your eyes off of the man.

odd, you had thought then. the man looked very different, his hair colour was unique, his style was very questionable too (mainly the sunglasses). his hairstyle made sense, you decided to yourself — it was nearly as messy as megumi’s, but not quite as dishevelled.

you leaned in, placing a hand over your mouth to whisper. megumi did not lean in.

“so is your dads gay?”

he stared at you, startled.

“huh?”

it had been the first time you’d seen megumi appear shocked.

“because — because you have two dads,” you clarified helpfully. megumi still appeared to be taken aback. “so is your dads ga—”

“no,” he answered. “they don’t even like each other —”

“so why do you have two dads?”

“i don’t.”

“oh! is he your grandpapa?” you asked, eyes brightening. the white hair would make sense, then.

“no,” said megumi harshly. “he’s not anything.”

“hm,” you thought, looking at the white-haired man speaking to some other teacher. “so is he alb— albin— alban— is he albanian?”

megumi blinked at you.

“what?”

“don’t make me say it again,” you said. “it’s a hard word.”

“albanian?”

“yeah… i think. is he that?”

megumi stared at you for a short while before looking away, staring at the man you had been gossiping about. it did not click to him for some time, it seemed, for he looked as though he were in a little daydream, thinking about what you had meant. you did not have the energy to repeat yourself: as you had claimed, it was indeed a hard word.

luckily for you, a lightbulb had clicked on in megumi’s brain, and he looked at you with a frown.

“he’s not albino,” he had stated firmly. “do you even know what a godfather is?”

“yes!” you said, defensively. was he seriously accusing you of not knowing what a godfather actually was? how pathetic.

yet that look he was giving you… he was expecting you to give him the definition.

if he wanted to be proved wrong so badly, why didn’t he just say so?

you stood up straight.

“it’s when god picks your dad —”

“no.”

“but my mommy says —”

“no she never.”

you scowled at him. “it’s not my fault your dad is old!”

“he’s not my —”

“megumi!” a cheery, deep voice had interrupted casually. you looked up, a shadow fell over the two of you: it was megumi’s apparent godfather, grinning toothily and quite literally showing off his pearly whites.

from up-close, he looked like more of a giant. he had to be at least eight feel tall, you had decided. maybe home-time was always done outdoors due to people like him — it would be difficult to move past a door frame with ease.

he didn’t have any wrinkles. in fact, his skin looked quite smooth, like the skin of a teenager.

but his hair…

“my son!” said the man, arms wide open as though he were about to engulf a grumpy megumi into a bone-crushing hug — you couldn’t imagine that.

you looked at megumi, who had all but disappeared behind his coat. you resisted the urge to laugh. was megumi embarrassed?

“oh — megumi — finally made a friend?”

the man looked down at you, grinning.

“we’re not friends,” you heard megumi utter, but you ignored him (as per usual).

instead, you directed your attention to the man.

“how old are you?”

you thought you’d heard megumi groan.

the man’s grin had fallen, but reappeared just as fast as it had dropped. he bent down to your height, his arm hanging over his bent knee as he came face-to-face with you.

“why don’t you guess?”

your answer was quick.

“eighty-seven.”

and this time, when his grin had fallen, it had not returned.

“why would you say that?” snapped megumi, who had reappeared from his hiding place behind his coat. he looked irked, irritated, and annoyed. whether it had been at you or his guardian, you had no clue.

“okay… seventy nine?”

“what the hell?” demanded the man. you were unsure at who he was looking at now — his sunglasses were more opaque than they had seemed from afar.

megumi had turned away, something about ‘now i have to deal with it’ — you weren’t quite sure. you frowned, looking back at the man. he looked scandalised, outraged, and disappointed.

your jaw had dropped.

“you just sweared!” you gasped, eyes accusatory. “my mommy says swearing is bad.”

“well your mommy should’ve taught you what an old person looks like,” the man responded, a bite in his tone.

“she did! they’re like you!”

“i am not old!”

“you really aren’t?” you asked, expecting it to do less damage than it actually would.

“i’m not even twenty-one yet!” the man pouted, looking nearly faint.

“really?” you said, eyeing him up and down. “you look like — you look like you’ve — you’ve seen the world. like santa. are you santa? —”

“megumi,” said the man, standing up to his full height and turning away, adjusting the glasses sitting on top of his nose. “we’re leaving.”

“finally.”

you watched them go, frowning when the tall man looked back at you over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out at you. you scowled: father christmas was supposed to be nice to kids. maybe you needed to write a letter to the north pole about a formal complaint on him.

“guys,” you said, turning to look at the remaining kids still waiting for their parents to arrive. “i met father christmas!”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

“i know what godfather means,” you stated proudly.

you and megumi were on the bikes. you had already been seated on one, megumi was starting to climb on the one next to you. he hadn’t looked at you once as he silently placed his feet on the pedals, brows furrowed in concentration as he gripped onto the handles.

“do you want to know what my mommy said?”

you stared at him with wide eyes, smiling despite the fact that nothing was actually amusing; you were still buzzing with excitement about the fact that megumi had a godfather. how sick was that? you’d never met someone with a godfather!

“no,” said megumi, checking the bell and seeing if it was able to ring well.

ding! ding!

“i’m gonna tell you anyways,” you informed him brightly. “my mommy s—”

ding!

you paused, beginning again after you the last ring of the bell had echoed.

“my mommy —”

ding!

“she says —”

ding! ding!

you frowned.

“my mommy says tha—”

ding! ding! ding!

you scowled.

“mommy-says-that-a-godfather —”

ding! ding! ding! ding!

your eyes narrowed as you placed your feet on the pedals and began cycling so that you were now face-to-face with megumi.

“you’re doing that on purpose!” you accused him, a crease formed in between your brows when you furrowed them.

megumi shrugged. “am i?”

“you can’t —” you began, stammering, “you can’t — you can’t answer a question by asking another one.” you shook your head at him. “you just can’t.”

megumi ignored you, taking off by pedalling away from you. you watched him leave, offended, before pedalling faster to catch up with him. several kids were in your way, using hula-hoops and skipping ropes that megumi had skilfully avoided. you, on the other hand, were in a rush to catch up to the boy, so you simply used your bell to alert them of your appearance.

ding! ding!

“‘scuse me! ‘scuse me! coming through!”

you were pretty sure someone fell somewhere behind you; you did not care.

it hadn’t taken long before you’d caught up to megumi. you cycled with him, nearly bumping your bike into his.

“you’re being mean, megumi.”

“ok.”

“anyways, my mommy says a godfather is a dad your parents chosed.”

megumi let out a noise, something between a grunt and a groan. “i don’t want to talk about him.”

“it’s okay! i kept your secret… kind of,” you said, as the both of you turned your bikes in the direction of the open space in the playground.

“secret?” said megumi, glancing at you from the corner of his eye without turning his head.

“mhm!” you nodded, smiling. “your godfather is santa —”

“no he’s no—”

you interrupted him by cheekily bumping your bike with his. his reaction had not been nearly the same as you had initially imagined: instead of being motivated, he nearly fell off his bike and glared at you once he’d regained his balance.

you cleared your throat, pedalling faster as you zoomed past him.

“race you!”

you hadn’t expected to actually hear a pair of wheels following after you. but you had slowly started to grow aware of the subtle surprises megumi could bring you.

later on that day, you hadn’t felt like going back to miss huckleberry’s class. when you had told megumi that your class were going to do a colouring task together, megumi had revealed that his class were going to do a painting task together. immediately you longed for the paints rather than the colouring pencils.

it wouldn’t be you if you never tried to do something about it; feeling adventurous, when the call had been given for all kids to go back to their respective classrooms, you had followed megumi back inside the door opposite yours.

he hadn’t noticed you then, perhaps that had been the reason why he’d given you an odd look when you took the empty seat beside him on the carpet.

“you’re not allowed here.”

“‘course i am!” you replied, smiling as you sat just like him — criss-cross-apple-sauce.

you smoothed out the creases on your dress as he gave you a blank look.

“you’ll get in trouble,” he informed you as though you’d been blissfully unaware (to him, it seemed like you were).

“if you keep saying stuff like that it means that you care if i — if i get in trouble so yeah.”

he gave you a look of disgust before he turned to face the board in front of the two of you, apparently careless.

“i don’t,” he said, with a tone of finality.

you shrugged, humming to yourself as you tightened the pigtails in your hair. you liked to think that he did care, even if it was quite obvious that he did not.

as the rest of the class had nearly finished filing in and taking their seats on the carpet, ms turner had sat on the chair by the teacher’s desk, looking around at you all. you watched as her big, round eyes had passed you naturally, before they’d darted back to you in surprise.

“y/n?” she voiced aloud.

megumi let out a scoff.

“told you,” he muttered, a hand over his mouth as he rested an elbow on his knee; you ignored him.

“yes miss?” you said, as though you were unaware of what was happening.

ms turner tilted her head at you, brows knitted together.

“why are you here?” she asked you, with genuine curiosity. there was no bite in her question either.

“i don’t want to draw and colour things because i think it’s boring,” you answered truthfully. “and i don’t like the ginger lady in my class so yeah. and i like painting and i like the thingy with the water paints.”

“does miss huckleberry know you’re here?”

you shook your head.

but perhaps that had been a mistake, for you had been walked back to your classroom once more (your protests fell on deaf ears).

however, that hadn't stopped you from constantly going back, returning once more to the seat beside megumi. 

the second time you had wrongly and happily entered his classroom, you made your way down to the carpet space, ready to occupy the usually-vacant seat next to megumi, only to find that the seat had been used by megumi's knee. he'd still been sitting criss-cross-apple-sauce, of course, yet his right knee had been extended to the point where a little more than half the space had been taken.

he looked up at you once he had noticed your shadow fall over his lap. he moved his knee back in place, a blank look on his face as he did so.

"did you just put your foot on that seat?" you asked, a brow raised in disgust.

"... ye—"

"well now i can't sit there because i don't know where your foot has been and it might be dirty," you said, walking around him to sit on the vacant seat on his left instead.

his eyes followed you as you moved. you could not gauge out the expression on his face: megumi was simply too hard to read, and it bothered you a bit, but not enough to make you complain too much.

it had taken a total of twenty minutes and fifty-one seconds before you'd been spotted and then escorted out of the classroom that day.

on another random day, a similar scenario had occurred where you'd been dropped off at your actual classroom by your mother, but you swerved past the door to enter the one opposite. your mother had not questioned it, deciding that during school hours, you were not her responsibility (thank god).

when you walked over to the carpet-space, you'd seen that megumi had already arrived, only, his hand was now facing palm-down on your favourite seat. you approached him as you passed a disheartened girl (inaya farhat) who'd just had a short conversation with megumi.

he looked up at you, slowly removing his hand and placing it back on his lap.

"did you just put your hand on my seat?" you asked, disgusted once again.

he glared at you. 

"yes."

the way in which he was glaring at you had you concerned (just the slightest bit). the intensity behind the way in which he looked at you had also frightened you, he looked as though you had insulted his entire family (arguably, you were nearly there).

"erm — yeah, so i hope your hand's not dirty," you said, leisurely sitting down on your designated seat. "like — like picking your nose or scratching your bum —"

"i'm not veera," said megumi. 

you frowned.

"who's veera?"

megumi faced the board, answering without sparing you another glance. 

"if you stay in this class, you'll find out."

and you did.

you had remained in the class for days after that. it became so normalised for you to be there, that even your mother would drop you off at the opposite door of your original class without question: at some point that month, your full name had been transferred from register-to-register — megumi hadn't been bothered by that, but he became quite aggressive when you kept rubbing it in his face:

"remember when you said i wasn't allowed to —"

"i get it!"

on one particular afternoon, where parents and carers were allowed to enter the classroom and observe the work their kids had done in their respective books before collecting them, you had found yourself in a sticky situation.

after megumi's father had come in (and quite literally stood at the back and simply nodded his head at his son in acknowledgment), you and megumi had gotten into a heated debate about which types of books were better. where you were more interested in fiction and fake reality, megumi argued that non-fiction and actuality was better.

you strongly disagreed, so you attempted to prove your point by leading him to the book corner and pulling out some of your personal favourites, one of them being 'the hungry caterpillar'.

"i like this one," you told him, handing the book over to him. he looked skeptical as he flipped through the pages. "and you can't say it's not even real because it is."

"hmph," said megumi, looking grumpy.

he didn't look as displeased with your suggestions as he usually did, so you decided that you'd won him over.

"what else?" he asked.

you beamed, hurriedly bending down to where you'd hidden your most precious book. your little hand plunged itself underneath the shelf and searched for it with earnest, pulling it out once you'd felt its laminated cover beneath your skin.

"this one," you said, standing back up and presenting it to him. again, he looked skeptical, but you had won him over once, surely you could do it a second time? "noisy nora."

he took the book from your hands and, like before, skimmed through it. his face scrunched up in disgust.

"that one is my most bestest book in the whole wide wor—"

"rats can't speak."

you looked up; megumi was stoic.

your smile had turned to a scowl.

"well jokes on you, nora's not a rat. she's a mouse."

megumi ignored you, going over to his side of the book corner where the non-fiction books were kept and pulled out a large one, pages thin and smooth. he turned around and showed it to you as you bent back down and shoved 'noisy nora' back under the book shelf.

from where you were sat on your knees, you could see that the title of megumi's book read 'how a caterpillar turns into a butterfly'.

you stood back up again, analysing the cover.

"looks boring," you commented.

"it's real."

"'the hungry caterpillar' tells a real story."

you walked away from the book corner and megumi followed, still looking very unimpressed with your opinion on his most favourite book.

however, as you aimed to make your way to the toy box, you stopped just as you'd entered the carpet space at the sound of a baby. your face formed an expression of confusion. what was a baby doing here at the kindergarten?

you turned in the direction of where the sound was coming from. megumi had been quietly complaining about something, but his discontent had fallen on deaf ears, for your eyes were focused on the blonde, snotty child wobbling towards you, her blue eyes wide with excitement.

spit bubbled at the corner of her mouth, the same mouth that was slowly taking in all the snot running down her nose.

your eyes widened, horrified at the sight before you. the sight that was slowly reaching you.

"ew," you said, watching as the child wobbled and clapped her hands — one hand gripped onto a baby-blue pacifier.

"ew..." you repeated, when the same child had dropped her pacifier on the floor.

"EW!" you cried, when the child locked eye contact with you and waddled closer.

"veeraaa!" the child sang, voice high as she nearly toppled over with her uneven balance. some of her spit had dropped onto the floor, gooey and... was that a tint of green?

"EWWWW!" you cried, making an attempt to run away but realising that megumi was behind you, resistant to your constant pushing. "OH MY GOD — OH MY GOD —"

your cries had caught the attention of nearly everyone else in the room, wondering what had been causing such a ruckus.

you felt like crying when the disgusting baby still managed to walk.

"veeeraaaaa —"

"EEEEEWWWWWWW!" you shouted, struggling to push megumi away so you could run.

the blonde kid was nearly a whole metre away from you now, giggling and singing her own name.

you'd had enough — a metre was simply too close for you.

"hey — what're you —"

yelling out your disgust, your hands grabbed onto megumi and pulled him in front of you, pushing him towards the child and practically using him as a human shield. better him than you, you'd concluded.

"veeeeraaaa!"

"AAAHH — EWWWW!"

"veeeraaa —"

"what the hell?" snapped megumi, taking several steps back in an attempt to distance himself from veera.

slowly, the disgust that you held had somehow divided so that the rest of the kids held the same sentiment. all of your classmates had begun screaming: 'ew's could be heard all around you: kids made attempts to jump over tables and chairs to get away from the blonde baby, parents were used as hiding objects so their children could stand behind them, and the blonde baby turned her attention elsewhere, approaching ruth smith who burst into tears when she waddled over to him.

the baby looked at you and megumi again. amongst all the screaming and yelling, yours still managed to be the loudest.

"EEEWW!" you cried, pushing megumi forward again. he was resistant. "MEGUMI —"

"veeeeraaa," veera sang, as sofia rylee shouted at you to run. "veeeraaa —"

"my name's megumi," said megumi, sounding annoyed and offended.

the commotion had slowly started to end when another blonde woman (who you assumed was veera's mother) ran over and picked her up, holding her in her arms as she stared at you, looking very, very offended.

you didn't care. that child of hers was disgusting, this should be a lesson to her, you had decided.

and somehow you were left out of breath, panting and exhaling as the woman turned and left, followed by miss huckleberry who had appeared out of thin air.

"that was scary," you commented, a hand pressed against your chest dramatically. "so scary."

megumi had finally turned around and regarded you with a glare.

"oh yeah?" he challenged, angry. "did you get pushed to her?"

your hand been returned back to your side.

"i had to save myself!" you explained, unable to understand megumi's anger towards you. "you would do the same!"

"no i wouldn't," said megumi. "you had more than enough room to run."

his arm had been extended to present to you the space that you neglected.

before you could respond, miss huckleberry's voice had cut through the air sharply.

"mr fushiguro!" she'd said, and both you and megumi had looked up to see what had happened.

megumi's dad was leaning against the wall, which may have looked rather innocent... till you'd squinted your eyes and caught him smiling. when miss huckleberry had appeared from chasing after the woman that had left, affronted, you had no idea, but she was here, and condemning megumi's father for his silent actions.

megumi's father simply shrugged, and megumi himself walked away, apparently embarrassed.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you and megumi found yourself seated at your specific spaces on the carpet, arguing about a situation that had occurred merely a day prior. ever since the veera incident, everyone in your new class seemed to know your name (and just how you were like). the news had also somehow travelled to your original class, and during play time, kimberly had asked what had happened: you brushed it off, claiming that any allegations against you were untrue.

that same day, you'd even waltzed back into your old classroom saying that you no longer wanted to be part of the other class, your disgust with veera taking over any other conscious part of your mind. miss huckleberry hadn't been impressed:

"no, y/n," she'd said, sounding firm. "go back to your class."

"that's not my class anymore," you'd attempted to persuade her. you looked at megumi, who had been giving you an odd look from the door. you approached him and pulled his arm. "c'mon megumi, let's go together!"

he had not complied.

that led you to the discussion you'd been having with megumi now, both stubborn in your points.

"you never got in trouble," you told megumi, scoffing when he'd told you about how miss huckleberry had given him an earful (though apparently, she'd been a lot more gentle about it than she had with you).

"i did," said megumi, defiant. he looked away, a hand resting over his mouth to muffle his final comment. "my stupid dad didn't help either."

"what was that?"

"nothing."

"oh okay."

it hadn't taken long for the rest of the class to follow, the carpet space now being taken up by the bottoms of each and every individual that had attended the kindergarten that day.

usually the class would start by singing a nursery rhyme together (megumi would turn extra grumpy during those) but on that particular day, miss turner had decided to do something different. you had noticed how smiley she'd been that morning, but had never questioned it: she looked rather pretty when she smiled. 

"so instead of our usual nursery rhymes..." she began, creating suspense, "we're going to do something a little more special today!"

you all looked at each other, confused and excited. you felt giddy in your seat, your legs shaking in anticipation. when you'd looked at megumi, you could see the interest in his face even if he tried his best to hide it.

"so all of you are going to partner up with somebody, it can be anyone you like," said miss turner, arms spread out to represent you all, "and together, you'll make a story! it can be about anything you want, anything in the big wide world. does everyone understand?"

everyone nodded excitedly, several 'yes's could be heard as everyone had stood up, looking around for partners. you'd seen cameron peterski and kamenova petrova hold hands and skip away. you walked into the huddle of peers, spinning on the spot in an attempt to make eye contact with one of the girls.

zuri camara had come into view, and you had half a mind to ask her to be partners with you, only, you'd been reminded of the time when she had worn your costume (it was the school's property, but everyone knew that dress was practically owned by you).

so you turned away, back towards her as you approached your seat once more. megumi had been standing by it, looking at you and promptly ignoring denis ivanov, who'd been attempting to catch his attention. you grinned, skipping forward and pulling megumi by the arm.

"megumi you're my partner because i said so!"

he did not respond, but you found that pulling him to the table on the far right had been much easier than you'd expected. 

"okay so i want to make a story about a princess —"

"no."

you frowned at him, pulling the a4 sheet of paper towards you. megumi had the pencil in his hand, still out of reach. 

"what do you want to write about, dinosaurs then?" you mocked him, rolling your eyes. "oh — oh i forgot — you'll probably say it's not even real right?"

megumi, with his fingers still protecting the pencil from your clutches, stared at you, deadpanned.

"they were real," he said, matter-of-factly. "they were alive sixty five million, billion... trillion years ago."

you scoffed, unsure of whether to believe him or not. you decided not to question him, with his history of constantly being right, you knew better than to make a fool of yourself again.

"i want to make a story about a caterpillar turning into a butterfly."

"that is the most boring-est, boring story ever," you stated, unimpressed. "in the whole wide world."

megumi scowled at you. you continued.

"and everyone's gonna fall asleep like this, look." 

you demonstrated the snoring of what you imagined your peers would do at the sound of megumi's story, your forehead falling flat on the table and your pretend snores being very loud. you raised your head once more, noticing how megumi hadn't been looking. persistent, you grabbed onto his face and turned it to face you.

"you're not looking, look!"

you imitated it again, ignoring the way he'd slapped your hand off his face. your pretend snores had grown louder and megumi did not look pleased.

"you sound like a pig," he said, coldly.

"well — well you are just a rude-o."

"not a word."

"but my mommy says —"

however you had been cut off by megumi's stern look, one that practically screamed 'don't try it'.

"fine," you said, sighing. "let's play scissors-paper-rock."

"you mean rock-paper-scissors?"

you made a motion of almost choking the dark-haired boy, but stopped yourself despite your frustrations. and all the while, megumi had not once flinched. instead, he'd given you a look of annoyance. 

rock-paper-scissors had not gone well with you. you'd played three rounds, and after losing two out of the three, you'd begged to play another round, upset with your chances of losing. megumi had refused, but surprisingly, had agreed to meet you half-way, offering a compromise. 

"it's still about caterpillars and butterflies," said megumi, firmly, "but you can..." he sighed, looking as though it were physically hurting him to speak. "you can... make it less... real."

you beamed, clapping your hands excitedly and then making an attempt to grab the pencil from him once more. megumi immediately recoiled, pulling it away from you with a sharp gaze.

"but not too much," he said.

shortly after, you and megumi had started writing out your story. however, it hadn't gone as easy as you had initially expected: the road to completing the plot of your story was long and bumpy, you had been met with several obstacles along the way.

"moths can't be friends with butterflies," megumi said after you'd explained the introduction of a new character (the moth).

"you said i could make it how i want!" you argued, defensive. "well that just — that just — it means that you're just a liar then."

"says the biggest liar in this class —"

"MIIIIIIIISS!"

but that hadn't been the only issue:

"that's not how you spell 'caterpillar'," megumi commented, peering over your shoulder after he'd reluctantly handed the pencil over to you.

you looked down at your writing: cadrrpileer.

"that's not how you spell 'butterfly'."

again, you looked down at your writing: buddrflee.

"that's not how you spell moth."

once more, you looked down at your writing: moff.

irritated, you slammed the pencil down over the paper and slid the sheet over to megumi.

"well maybe you should write then!"

megumi made no complaints about taking the pencil.

"you were begging to write."

"yeah well — well — well i don't need a negative nancy next to me all them times i keep writing."

"that... made no sense."

"just write fushigo!"

"fushi-guro."

your assigned hour had been up, and when everyone had been seated on the carpet once more — rehearsing their lines in preparation to present — you and megumi read over the paper you had over and over again. really, you believed that you could recite the story without the paper, but megumi had been insistent on keeping the paper just in case.

he'd been very angry when you'd volunteered to go first together after miss turner had asked 'does anyone want to start us off?'.

so the two of you found yourself standing at the front of the class, clearing your throats in preparation. the classroom looked extremely big from where you'd been standing. having all eyes trained on you felt odd, but you were confident that your story would surprise them all.

"once upon a time, there was two caterpillars," you began, slowly.

"were," corrected megumi, shaking the sheet of paper. he'd turned to where miss turner was sitting at her desk. "miss she's not following the script."

miss turner’s brows had raised at megumi’s comment, visibly surprised. it was understandable, you concluded, for it was not as though the partners had been assigned — they were chosen. how had the two of you already fallen into a dark pit of issues?

"megumi, we can still continue with the story, it's fine," said miss turner, just as you'd stared at megumi with an affronted expression.

the rest of the class did not seem phased by the sudden intrusion, still patiently waiting for the story to continue seeing as it had barely even started yet.

"anyways… after one day, one of the caterpillars turned into a beautiful butterfly," you explained, your arms spread wide to suggest just how pretty you had imagined the butterfly to be.

"the other caterpillar is left behind —"

"yeah that caterpillar's slow for some reason," you interrupted, shrugging when megumi glared at you, waving the paper to remind you of the script.

you slapped the paper, holding back a laugh when megumi's glare had hardened (if possible).

he hastily took a step away from you as though you’d burned him and the paper in his hand. he cleared his throat; you could tell he was irritated.

"the caterpillar doesn't recognise the butterfly anymore," said megumi, sounding way too blunt for your liking.

there were gasps in the audience, and you watched as everyone's big eyes remained focused on you and megumi. you smiled toothily.

"but — like — later, the butterfly makes the caterpillar remember," you added, for once, following the script as megumi cautiously held the paper up for you to read from. "and they're still best friends. but then butterfly meets another butterfly, and they become best friends too!"

"the caterpillar feels left out and then meets the moth," said megumi, staring at the audience with a blank expression. "and they become friends even though that's not even real."

you turned to miss turner, feeling insulted that megumi had the audacity to snitch on you when he had basically done the same thing.

"miss, that wasn't in the script."

miss turner sighed, shaking her head at you with a smile. "guys."

"okay, okay!" you said. "megumi, say it."

"the caterpillar goes inside the cocoon," he said on your command, though he'd been resisting the urge to add 'the only real part'.

"afterwards, after a very, very, very, very, very long time," you said, attempting to create suspense, though you could feel megumi's eyes digging holes in your cheek to get you to hurry up, "the butterfly is not friends with the other butterfly anymore."

"the moth flies away and the caterpillar comes out but oh no it's not a caterpillar anymore," recited megumi, reading from the paper, monotoned. he looked up, making eye contact with the audience. "i didn't write that."

you snatched the paper from him, annoyed with his lack of effort in bringing emotion to the story.

"but oh no!" you read, enthusiasm in your voice as you expressed how disheartened the narrator should have been, "it's not a caterpillar anymore!"

"i just said that."

"porcupine!" you snapped. you handed him the paper again, smiling at the audience, unaware of the glare he was directing at you. "the caterpillar is now a butterfly, and the other butterfly doesn't re— re— rec—"

"recognise —"

"yeah that — the butterfly!" you finished off, grateful for megumi's intervention.

"and that's the end of the story," stated megumi.

you grinned. "the end!"

an awkward silence had followed after that. megumi had scrunched up the paper in his small fist, which had been the only noise in the room full of pin-drop silence. all of the kids had been staring at you, as if waiting for you to yell out 'just kidding!' and then continue the story, but it had become quite clear that that wouldn't happen, especially when the two of you glanced at miss turner to prove that you'd finished your lovely story.

"tha— that's the end?" asked miss turner, brown eyes darting from you to megumi and back again, expectantly.

you nodded.

"yep."

"yeah."

"but what happened to the butterflies?" someone had called out — it was noah fisher.

"nothing," you answered.

but it seemed that your classmates’ interest in your story had not been completely satisfied.

"did they not realise each other?" hayley bergmann called out, looking upset and curious.

"no," said megumi, straight-forward.

"why?" said christian de groot.

"because — because — that's just how it is," you shrugged.

"life is sad," commented megumi.

another silence had followed after that, till miss turner had finally come to the acceptance that your story truly had ended the way it did.

"okay, well... that's y/n and megumi's story, guys! round of applause!"

but the giant applause you'd been waiting for had not arrived. instead, the claps were slow, out of beat, and awkward, as if they were still in shock and denial about the ending of your story.

irked, your brows had furrowed deeply, your arms folded across your chest as you demanded them to "clap!".

and they did, at some point, and you'd stepped back again, standing side-by-side with megumi, a smile finally gracing your delicate features.

"look, porcupine! they're clapping for us!"

“it’s not like you barked at them to or anything,” grunted megumi, and as though he’d been slapped with knowledge, he glared at you. “and stop calling me that.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

your teachers did not believe you when you told them that you much preferred to stay indoors than go outside. you didn't understand how they'd come to that conclusion when even in the kindergarten, your time was always spent more by the bookshelf than outside in the playground. the only time that you’d actively seek to go outside for a change was when the bikes were free to use (though sometimes your impatience would force the other kids to simply give up and get off the bikes for you).

so when your mother had called you over at the sound of the doorbell (which you had promptly ignored for the sake of watching your favourite cartoons) you audibly groaned, but obediently switched the tv off and made your way over to the front door.

surprised, perplexed, yet pleased, you’d been met with the sight of megumi standing by the door across from your mother, a soccer ball in his hands and sporting the same stoic expression as per usual.

your mother looked very confused, almost as though megumi was not real — as though someone had been playing a sick trick on her. someone really wants to play with that kid? she’d thought in her head when megumi had asked if you were free to play in the neighbourhood.

you skipped past your mom, tightening the ribbon in your hair and smiling. you looked up at her, ready to inform her of the fact that you would stay in the area and not run off (even if you had the carnal desire to give her a good scare).

“i’m just gonna play with megumi okay?” you told her, and though it’d been posed as a question, you knew it was a statement.

you’d ignored the odd look she’d given both you and megumi, her eyes darting from you to him and back again.

“megumi?” said mom, gazing at the dark-haired boy with curiosity. she could have sworn that he had been the very child you’d been annoyed with not even a month ago.

you sighed, irritated.

“i won’t run away like last time mommy.”

megumi gave you a pointed look. you narrowed your eyes at him.

“it was on — it was on accident.” you turned to your (still very confused) mother. “i’ll just play with megumi now so yeah.”

but she looked as though she had missed several pages on a very interesting book she’d been reading. megumi spoke up not too long after.

“my mom said she’ll watch us.”

and whether that had been to comfort your own mother (the woman still kept the same expression on her face) or to hurry things up, you never knew, for you’d grown very impatient and simply couldn’t wait any longer. you stepped outside and waved goodbye to your mom, who raised her hand in what she probably thought was a wave back, though it looked like anything but.

that day, megumi’s mother had walked you back to your home just before sunset, your sour mood now dissipated.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

"a toast to the academic year of two-thousand-seven-to-eight being officially completed!"

clink!

clink!

clink!

the staff room meant for the kindergarten teachers had been packed. the teachers sat around a squared table, drinks in hand and food scattered around as though the queen were to arrive at any passing second. some teachers were standing up, others were sitting. all, however, had made a toast to the end of the academic year.

the main two teachers of both classes had sat together at the head of the stable: miss huckleberry and miss turner. every other teacher that had played the role as the assistant or substitute had been present too.

"can we talk about how this was probably the hardest year to manage?" said miss huckleberry, but only after taking a giant gulp of whatever sparkling drink she'd chosen to quench her thirst.

there were several murmurs of agreement. mr adams (who had been a consecutive substitute for miss huckleberry's class during september) had practically shouted out his agreement.

"you don't know how many times i had to deal with a child crying because they've got 'the booger touch'," miss huckleberry announced, sighing.

"what even is that?" one of the first aid nurses asked.

"i wish i knew."

a lot of the teachers laughed, speaking in hushed tones on their theories of what the 'booger touch' is and how it even started. the teacher assistant for miss huckleberry's class had spoken up during that time.

"wait, but, can i tell you what i found the most weirdest thing back in... i don't know... october-ish?"

she tucked a messy strand of her ginger hair behind her ears as the others looked up with mild interest.

"the oddest pair on this planet," she'd started, "megumi and y/n."

"no you mean y/n and megumi," laughed miss turner, who had finally voiced her own opinion seeing as the two kids had been in her class for the previous year; meanwhile there'd been a chorus of laughter and yells of agreement from all the other teachers.

"yep, for sure —"

"never thought i'd see them being friends —"

"two completely different people —"

"wait, wait! wait! was megumi the kid with that grumpy face twenty-four-seven?" asked mr jenkins, raising the hand that was holding his glass of champagne to emphasise his confusion.

the teachers nodded in response; he laughed boisterously.

"yeah i never saw that coming, that kid never wanted to play with anyone!"

miss turner smiled. "he was a little... anti-social."

"he was more than anti-social," interrupted miss huckleberry. "i had to deal with so many crying kids because of him."

"i don't know how he ended up being friends with y/n of all people," said ms begum, adjusting the green hijab on her head. she had been the substitute for miss turner's class whenever she'd been ill.

"right?" laughed mr adams.

miss huckleberry shook her head. "that kid was a menace."

"oh don't say that!" scolded miss turner, tapping miss huckleberry's arm firmly. "she was so bubbly and funny!"

"but it makes sense!" said the first aid nurse, picking up a chocolate cupcake and taking a small bite out of it.

several teachers disagreed, shaking their heads and voicing their thoughts.

"no, hear — hear me out!" she called out, struggling to speak with the cupcake. she swallowed and then continued. "y/n was always really loud and social and talkative and — you get the idea, but megumi wasn't. for lack of better word, y/n was a menace on her own but megumi wasn't exactly like that... and when they ended up being friends —"

"i see it now," hummed ms begum, pouring herself some of the apple juice. "does everyone remember the veera incident?"

she had barely completed the last syllable before the teachers had spoken over each other again, loud and excited. miss turner laughed, but miss huckleberry had rolled her eyes.

"do i remember? i had to deal with the mother!" she exclaimed, her drink now completely finished. she poured herself another full glass.

"before y/n got moved to your class," said the nurse, gesturing to miss turner, "any time veera came over, the kids were fine. megumi was fine."

"okay but let's be honest," said mr adams, slowly. "that veera child made me want to vomit —"

"william!"

"mr adams!"

"i can't deny it, i'm sorry! it is what it is!" mr adams spoke up over the teachers. "that child needed to learn hygiene first!”

although there were many shouts of protests, it could be heard how weak they'd sounded, almost as though the teachers wanted to disagree, but logically, they could not. picturing the child in question only made mr johnson actually gag.

"but who would you say is worse, y/n or megumi?" asked the teacher assistant. "y/n for sure."

"agreed."

"definitely y/n."

"but y/n's never actually made a kid cry —"

"yes she has!"

"but so has megumi."

"i think the point is," said mrs holly, placing a watermelon slice on her paper plate, "that they are definitely the oddest duo we've seen in teaching so far."

"i think they made the year so much more tiring," sighed miss huckleberry.

following her statement, there were sighs of agreement. some teachers had promptly disagreed, claiming that the duo had, in turn, made teaching a little more fun. miss turner had stated that you were a wonderful addition to her class. ever since you had joined, megumi was a little more spoken.

"but megumi," added mr johnson, pinching the bridge of his nose, "that child — is he even a child?"

mrs holly laughed at that.

"whatever do you mean?" she'd asked, biting back a smile despite her obvious curiosity.

"well we all know his favourite quote," chortled miss turner, actually heartily laughing when some of the teachers had quoted him simultaneously.

"'that's not even real'!"

they all burst into fits of chuckles and laughter, some teachers having lagged behind on the quote and finishing a little while after (mr adams had practically sang the quote).

mrs holly, still chuckling, referred back to her initial question.

"so what about that makes him unlike a regular child?"

"THE KID READS NON-FICTION BOOKS, come on!"

"and i can't remember a single time where we all sat together in a circle for story time and megumi didn't mutter 'that's not even real' — 'birds don't talk' — under his breath," said miss huckleberry, helping herself to some of the desserts placed on the silver platter. "menace."

"can confirm," nodded miss turner. "but i rarely ever had to actually scold him. y/n would do it for me."

"one thing about y/n," said ms begum, trying not to laugh mid-sentence, "was that she always kept megumi in check."

"no," said mr jenkins. "i'd argue that he kept her in check."

"nobody can keep y/n in check. not even her own mother," ms begum responded curtly.

"no, i think that was the issue," said mr adams thoughtfully. "they're both so different, they tried keeping each other in check. but then that always led to them fighting."

"fighting?"

"i thought they were friends?"

"again: odd duo."

mr adams shook his head. "they were weirdos. they'd argue for a second, and then be friends after."

miss turner nodded. "true. did i ever tell you guys about their book wars?"

"no —"

"no? —"

"i've seen it happen," said the first aid nurse. "they'd fight over their favourite books and then because they both have completely different tastes —"

"the only time i can say y/n acts like a normal child," miss huckleberry whispered, her voice hushed.

"— they'd end up actually fighting each other."

the teacher assistant rolled her eyes. "should we all take a guess on who hit who first?"

"y/n —"

"no question: y/n —"

"definitely y/n —"

"ally?" said mrs holly, asking for confirmation from your class teacher: miss turner nodded.

all the adults in the room sighed, laughed, and commented their thoughts: it was mainly not a surprise to either one of them that you chose to get physical first — you were rather 'passionate', as mr jenkins had put it.

"but you know, the surprising thing was," said miss turner, louder than the other voices in the room in order to grab everyone's undivided attention, "megumi seemed to always let her."

mr johnson frowned, walking around the staff room to get the cinnamon rolls on the farthest end of the table. "let her what?"

"hit him," answered miss turner, as each of their faces presented their shock:

miss huckleberry's brows had raised notably, ms begum had tilted her head with her brows furrowed in obvious uncertainty, and mr jenkins' face morphed into an expression that quite literally screamed 'not possible'. but it had not been them who had voiced their thoughts following the amazing revelation.

"i wholeheartedly believe you," said the nurse, nodding her head leisurely. at the sight of all the other unresponsive teachers (save for the murmuring between mr adams and mrs holly), the nurse had decided that an explanation was due. "back in january, you know james? the kid with the buzzcut?"

the other teachers nodded, some remained unacquainted with said boy yet waved their hands to have the nurse continue anyway.

"he hit megumi over something stupid — can't remember. but megumi didn't just let that slide: i had a sobbing james sitting in my office with a bruised up eye!"

"yes, i remember that," mumbled miss turner, a hand on her chin as she rested her elbow on the table; meanwhile the others were gasping and exchanging odd looks. "not my favourite megumi moment, to be fair."

"he could have done the same to y/n," shrugged the nurse. "i know he could."

"arguably, y/n is a scary girl," said mr john, lowly. "what — don't look at me like that — she terrified me sometimes! and i've seen the way she fought that other kid — what's his name —"

"clarke!" said miss huckleberry, "yes, it was clarke!"

"irrespective of who she's beaten up," tutted the nurse, rolling her grey eyes, "it's clear that megumi has always had the potential to do what he did to james, to her. he just never did."

"that's why i said she kept him in check," added ms begum, a finality in her tone as she gazed at mr jenkins with a raised brow.

"anyway, when y/n moved to your class, ally, i never bothered trying to get her back," said miss huckleberry, pushing her glass of whatever sparkling drink she'd chosen away from herself.

"i could tell," miss turner responded, smiling despite it all.

mr adams laughed. "i still don't know how she somehow managed to sneak back into your class and throw apple juice on —"

the very person you'd thrown apple juice on (and accused them of pissing themselves) had now looked up, alert and embarrassed. the teacher assistant who you had declared war on months prior now felt tears welling up in her eyes as she stood up, glaring at mr adams as everyone averted their gazes awkwardly.

"we all promised not to ever mention that again," she said, bottom lip wobbling as she walked around the table to get to the door despite all the teachers calling her back. she ignored them as she reached the door.

"oh, come on, poppy!"

"he didn't mean it like that —"

"yeah, come back!"

"why would you mention something like that?" she weeped, her face a dark shade of red that did much to conceal her dotted freckles. she opened the door, her body half-in and half-out. "why would you say that when you know it surrounds us all in negativity —"

but before mr adams could backtrack on his comment (and his laughter) the teacher assistant had already left the room.

they all sighed:

even after your departure, you had still managed to cause problems somehow.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

next chapter :)

notes: chapter 2 will take a little while to get out but i swear it will be released at some point!

© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

[wildaboutchu2000]

18matsu au....................

reika belongs 2 @mushimatsu :3

[pigglepiephi]

Today I’ve used the first day of my Christmas holidays to binge EP1-5 of High School Frenemy!

And just like Chadjen fangirling over Saint’s love confession on the rooftop, I am very excited!!!! 😃

But I already can’t take it!! Because seriously…

WHAT DID SAINT DO?!?!?!?

Obvs don’t tell me, but also… I want to know!!!!!!!

[extremelybabygirl]

Do you think about me when you're all alone The things we used to do, we used to be

[ohshcobsession]

Tamaki just gives me the vibes

i don't know why but when I think of Tamaki I just get the "Rose colored lenses" vibes from Tamaki, just because of the naiveness and child like wonder he sees the world. It just- it just fits ok.

[nationalvyvanseshortage]

Ever since I was a small child I have talked to strangers like a curious old man from a village that just got its first telegram line.

[purgatorypicnic]

HEADCANNON THYME

Charlie was born in North Jersey. His parents were murdered by an unknown individual when he was 4. After this, Charlie was raised by his uncle in Bangor, Pennsylvania.

[resident-gay-bitch]

Let’s be honest here, if James and Sirius were girls (into eachother or not) they would be known as the “lesbians” around school.

As someone who went through highschool as a girl having a very close friendship with a girl (and let’s face it, yes I was desperately in love with her and no it didn’t end well, but that’s bedside the point because these rumours went around before I fell for her) we were Always asked if we were dating and when we denied it people didn’t believe us. And if people didn’t think we were dating they thought we wanted to date, and yeah it was primarily guys thinking that which I’m not even gonna get into because that’s a whole sexist fucking gross thing there, but still!

You can’t tell me, if you’re like gen z or in a generation where queerness is known through your highschool and like not the worse thing in the world, that you didn’t have a set of girl best friends that everyone thought were in a queer relationship.

I happened to be in like, almost all the “lesbian” rumoured relationships at my school because, after the first one, I shaved my head and became the school dyke and then any close female friend I had meant I had to be in love with them and if they seemed smiley around me back it was assumed we were dating.

But like, James and Sirius were That Close, and if they were girls, they Would be The Lesbians. If they were just best friends, everyone would assume they were lesbians. If they were secretly in love with eachother and never said anything until it was too late, everyone would assume they were lesbians. If they were dating and just didn’t tell anyone, everyone would assume they were lesbians. If they were dating and did come out and tell people, no one would be surprised.

I think there’s something special about that. And I know from personal experience being known as the lesbian couple of the school even when you’re not isn’t the greatest, but like as someone who’s experienced that and also experienced it in a more positive way (where people were just supportive and wanted us to date because they genuinely thought we’d be good together and we liked eachother) it’s just something that’s bound to happen.

Apparently you can’t have two girls that close to eachother that aren’t your typical “straight laced “normal” girls” and have them not be cast as the school lesbians.

James was a quidditch captain nerdy smartarse, and Sirius is an alternative black sheep with severe mummy issues. They’re gonna be the lesbians.

And I adore that.

[dandyshucks]

so because I've decided to put aside my frustrations with the french language (and every other language that genders random words but I have a grudge against french specifically just because it's what I was required to learn in school and nobody could explain to me why some words were masculine and some were feminine) and finally buckle down and learn M.ichif (which utilizes a bit of french), I figure if I make Wardell be M.étis (like me irl lol) then maybe he can speak the language and teach Dandy, and by using him to teach my self-insert then hopefully I can help my actual real life self learn it too ,,,,, there are a couple flaws in the plan but I think overall this might work fhfkdl we shall see.... Wardell is going to be m.etis either way though LOL he would love the fiddling and jigging and overall culture so it is canon now :]

[b3eb0p]

post from friday!!

forgot to upload this bc i had to go to the hospital ☠️ (im okay guys i swear,, not like anyone on here cares anyways👻)

fit check and photo dump,,, thats abt it :P

me and my friends went to starbucks to talk about everyone and everything that happened during the first week and i got my first iced pumpkin spice latte of the season 😋

[nomaishuttle]

i do sort of likee. sigh. mixed feelings on ppl criticizing likee. tiktokkers and stuff for "promoting dropping out" of highschool or whatever. bc like yes i dont think kids should drop out solely bc they get like. 10k tiktok followers or whatever. but at the same time th people who critique this shit are so uncharitable and act like high school dropouts arent like. real people. they act like were jezebels tempting the good smart kids into our hedonistic lifestyle and its like. idk. words hard it just pisses me awff. ALSO existing as a dropout isnt Promoting it to your fans its just like..existing.. yk

[inutaffy]

bro shout out to ME. i was at lunch, my halfway friend got in line and i hate being alone in the cafeteria so i was with him. and he wasnt saying anything and i asked how his day was and he shrugged. and then i caught sight of the fire alarm behind him and decided to tell him “i wonder what it would be like to actually pull the fire alarm” and he looked at me like i was fucking crazy. took everything in me not to shove him.

[thegreatestheaver]

auhgh ok I rewatched the first mha ep and was flooded with memories like how I used to wear mha shirts in highschool how did I not get bullied

[svt17-imagines]

𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍʙɪɴᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏʙꜱᴄᴇɴᴇʟʏ ʜᴏᴛ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ꜱʟᴀꜱʜ ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ, ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴏᴊᴜ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴꜱ?

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 14ᴋ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ʟᴏᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ, ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ꜱᴇx, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴏʀᴀʟ (ꜰ. ʀᴇᴄɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ)

ᴀ/ɴ: ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ꜰᴜʟʟ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ꜰɪᴄ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ɴɪɴᴇ ʏᴀʀᴅꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴜᴄʜ, ʜᴏᴘᴇꜰᴜʟʟʏ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ᴏᴋᴀʏ ʟᴏʟ ɪ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴡʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜɪʟᴅ ᴜᴘ ꜱᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ɪꜱ ᴅᴇꜰɪɴɪᴛᴇʟʏ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ꜱɪᴅᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ!<3

—

You couldn’t contain the maniacal laughter that escaped your throat as Wonwoo choked on his drink, a coughing fit erupting as he reached for the closest napkin he could find.

“I’m sorry… what did you just say?” He held his forearm to his mouth, desperately trying to contain any remaining coughs still threatening to escape.

“You heard me.” You leaned back against the foot of the couch, your legs sitting criss cross on the floor while you knocked your head back to take another shot. You giggled afterwards, wiping any leftover soju from your lips. “No man has ever made me come. Not even Si-woo.”

It was an embarrassing thing to bring up in retrospect, especially to your roommate of three years who up until now you’d only ever sparingly told the details of your intimate life to. But who the hell even cared about pride anymore? 

Certainly not you… and certainly not the copious amount of alcohol currently traversing your system.

“But… you two were together for so long?” The confused expression on Wonwoo's face was downright adorable, and the subconscious urge to pinch his cheek was immediately pushed down. 

“All relationships take sacrifice, mine just so happened to be any chance of ever achieving orgasm.” You cringed outwardly as you thought back to a particularly tough memory. “I remember one time he rubbed my inner thigh for like fifteen minutes thinking it was my—“

“STOP!” He croaked out, cheeks flushing brightly as you released a loud cackle, your eyes tearing up at your precious best friend.

You and Wonwoo had first properly met at the start of college, which was baffling considering you both had gone to the same highschool for four years without uttering so much as a single word to one another. It wasn’t to say you'd been completely blind to his existence that entire time, he had just always been much more reserved and quiet back then.

Not to mention way too handsome for you to even think about approaching. 

If anything, the only people he ever really spoke with was your current mutual group of friends. You remembered meeting Seungkwan junior year, but it wasn’t until you were actually partnered as lab buddies in college that you’d grown close enough to get invited over for a pool party at his friend Soonyoungs place. Kwan had been in the middle of introducing you to Jihoon when a few people shouting from across the yard had stolen your attention, you could hardly recognize the goofy grinned boy who was getting flicked after losing a punishment game to be the same shy Wonwoo whom you’d only ever snuck spare glances at for the past four years.

The first thing you noticed was just how effortlessly funny he secretly was. Never in your life would you have guessed that Wonwoo, who only a few years prior refused to even make eye contact as you borrowed his pen, would’ve been right in front of you borderline screaming his lungs out into a karaoke machine. You and everyone else couldn’t breathe laughing as he strained to sing as high as his uncharacteristically deep voice could manage, all in an attempt to beat Soonyoung's high score. The entire night he continued to crack the most absurd one liners, which somehow felt even funnier because of just how impassive he usually was at school. You couldn’t contain the fit of giggles that escaped you practically every time he spoke, all while his hyungs encouraged him and wheezed in fits of laughter by your side.

The second thing you noticed was just how much the two of you actually had in common, your first real conversation sparking from an in depth discussion of FPS games, resulting in a borderline nerd off between the two of you for the rest of the party. You both got along so well that you had made plans for a duo match later that night, which then led into exchanging numbers, and then discord tags. You soon discovered a mutual love of classic movies, which turned into weekly film nights, then sleepovers, which led to grabbing breakfast together, then lunch… The two of you eventually spent so much time together that Wonwoo suggested you become roommates.

It was an offer that you agreed to almost instantly.

It worked perfectly. You each liked to have your own space, but not too much as you both got lonely pretty frequently. And the best part about two introverts living together meant that you also understood each other's social battery, which for some reason never really drained around Wonwoo. It wasn’t uncommon for one person to knock on the other's door out of boredom, asking to have a movie night or a meal together, or even just relax quietly in each other's presence. He was easy to talk to, listened to your ramblings and never judged. You’d rant to him whenever anything bothered you or made you upset, but you always made sure not to take it too far as you never wanted to risk making him uncomfortable.

But you were feeling a bit too loose tonight, maybe it was the alcohol buzzing through your system or the fact that you had just dumped your boyfriend a few days prior. Maybe it was the frustration you’d been bottling up at how shittily your, now ex, treated you for the past year. Everything was slipping through your lips a lot easier than usual, even the information you typically kept close to your chest was pouring out without any filter.

As was evidenced by the abrupt confession about your sex life.

“I thought things were, um, really good between you two on that front?” Wonwoo let out, his brows furrowing together in pure confusion. “I mean you never really talked to me about that stuff, but the noises coming from your room—“

“Fake. All of it.” You snorted, and the look on Wonwoo’s face was so comical you had to force your dizzy head not to fall over laughing. “What can I say, I’m one hell of an actress.”

Wonwoo had to practically wrench his gaping mouth shut, taking a swig of his beer as he seemed to mull over that information. You knew he wasn’t a big drinker, but after you came home practically begging to have a few drinks together to get your mind off of the hellish week you’d had he couldn’t just say no. Letting him have a few beers was the best you could compromise, as you were left to down the harder alcohol sitting in front of you both.

“Is that why you guys broke up?” He asked carefully, testing the waters. Your eyes widened slightly, realizing you’d never actually explained the details to Wonwoo, partially because the wound was still fresh but also because it was yet another embarrassing situation that made you feel small and vulnerable. You gave him a gentle smile and shook your head no, allowing the alcohol to explain for you.

“He’d been texting other girls for the past three months.” You sighed, pouring yourself another glass. “Wasn’t even careful about it either, he got a tinder and a hinge notification while I was over one night. What a dumbass.” 

You downed the shot, this one burning your throat slightly more than the rest and you scowled at the feeling. It pissed you off, the fact that you wasted a year of your life with such a shithead and there was nothing to show for it in the end. Wonwoo’s silence might’ve been your cue to shut up if you’d been sober, but your inebriated brain just took it as an invitation to continue.

“I think the part that confused me the most was that I actually felt so relieved when I found out.” You put the shot glass on the coffee table, Wonwoo raised a brow in surprise. “I mean yeah, I was fucking furious about it. Woke that asshole up by dumping a cup of water directly on his head, packed my stuff and didn’t look back once.”

You fidgeted with the soju bottle, thinking over all the conflicting feelings you’d been working through the past few days. “But once I saw those notifications on his phone it really just kinda put everything into perspective for me, I guess. I don���t think I ever once actually imagined a future with the guy. I think, secretly, I always wanted some kind of excuse to end things.” 

You adjusted your hand, even all the alcohol in your system suddenly wasn’t enough. “It probably makes me a bitch to say this, but I don’t think I meant it a single time I told him I loved him.” You winced slightly at your own words, a sliver of guilt trailing up your spine. “I would’ve felt bad if I didn’t say it back, you know? We were together for a while, and it’s not like I’m getting any younger.”

Wonwoo shook his head. “You’re not a bitch.” Your eyes shifted to study his face, his expression concerned but his eyes soft. “I’ve been here the entire time, every fight and every argument. The guy was a douchebag.”

You offered him a grateful smile, Wonwoo was always there. He comforted you and listened to you during even the absolute worst moments of your relationship, but never once did he tell you to break up with him. It confused you, since most of your friends came to that very same conclusion any time you so much as brought Si-woo’s name up. 

“... Why don’t you ever… talk bad about him?” You remembered sniffling into a crumpled tissue, leaning into Wonwoo’s shoulder after finishing a particularly rough venting session. You’d just bawled your eyes out after the usual spat with Si-woo, and Wonwoo was rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back.

He furrowed his brows together and paused his motions. “What do you mean?” 

“You listen to me cry and complain about him so much, usually Hao or Jihoon get sick of it and tell me to just dump him already.” You hiccuped slightly, and you noticed his lip curl up in amusement. “But you never say anything… Doesn't it bother you? That I still stay with him even after all of this?” 

“I hate that you’re hurting, and I don’t like seeing you sad.” He frowned slightly, and brushed a strand of hair from your tear stained cheeks. “But if you have to cry, I’m just glad I can be here so you’re not feeling these things alone.” 

He playfully placed his index finger between your eyebrows and pushed your head back softly, you laughed and another hiccup escaped “I trust that you would leave him if you felt like it was the right thing to do. I don’t think offering up solutions and badmouthing him while you’re in so much distress will help anything.” His gentle smile practically froze you in place, the genuineness in his tone melting away any lingering tears. 

“I’m always here, if you ever need someone to just listen.”

That singular moment provided you more comfort than you could ever remember receiving from someone. You weren’t scared to talk about your feelings anymore, you didn’t have to hide your emotions around Wonwoo like you might’ve done around the other guys. But it also disappointed you to a certain degree, because in all honesty if there was anyone you wanted to tell you to end things with Si-woo… It was him.

You knew you’d developed feelings for Wonwoo about a month after meeting him. It wasn’t hard, with how easily the two of you had bonded and how breathtakingly handsome he was. It was more difficult to actually keep it a secret, as you were both practically inseparable and he was always looking at you with such kind eyes and the prettiest smile. 

The thought of confessing never so much as crossed your mind. You never dared even speak about it aloud, not even to your friends, but the feelings involuntarily stuck around longer than you anticipated. One month of friendship turned into two, then three turned into four, and when you hit a year was when it all came to a crashing stop.

Your friend Mingyu had set Wonwoo up on a blind date with someone from his job, and they ended up becoming official not long after.

Hana was her name, gorgeous with long dark hair and wispy lashes, she had a model figure and the most charming Daegu dialect. She suited Wonwoo well, the two of them immediately becoming an absolute powerhouse of a couple in terms of visuals. You congratulated your friend and his new girlfriend with smiles and squeals of course, but it did nothing to stop the silent cries you’d given your pillow the weeks following. It took time, it took effort, and it took a lot of strength, but you eventually got past it. 

Si-woo was your first venture into dating after properly getting over your little crush, about a year after Hana and Wonwoo got together. He treated you like a princess in the beginning, and you had to admit it helped soothe that leftover ache.

It was the small moments, the good moments with Si-woo where you felt yourself properly moving forward, moving past all those lingering feelings. But it was the bad moments that made you regret it, the ones where he would search through your phone while you went to the bathroom, the ones where he would ignore you for days because you were laughing a little too much at one of Dokyeom’s jokes, the ones where he wouldn’t take you on any dates unless you agreed to pay for them.

It wasn’t right, all your friends knew it and you did too, but routine can be a scarily addictive thing.

You remember being proud of yourself for not feeling much when Wonwoo had told you he and Hana had broken up, roughly a month into your own relationship with Si-woo. Obviously you felt concern for your friend’s wellbeing, for his mental state and whether or not he was heartbroken over it all. But you didn’t squeak in concealed excitement, you didn’t jump for joy behind closed doors, and you didn’t go to bed picturing yourself and Wonwoo’s first date like you probably would have a year prior.

You might’ve felt a little bit of happiness. But only a little.

“Look at you, finally saying something bad about him.” You chuckled, watching your own hand pour soju into a glass as if you had no control over it. “I’m surprised you held back for so long, Hao always had lots of creative words to describe Si-woo. “

“I’m not gonna lie, keeping it in was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” You snickered outwardly as he exhaled. “But you needed someone to listen. That was much more important than making it known how badly I wanted to shove his head into a wall.”

“Tell that to Cheol, he almost strangled the guy when I told him half the shit he did.” A sigh escaped and you softly swished the soju against the shot glass. “I mean honestly, when he used to get mad at me for hanging out with the guys? Calling the video games I played childish, nagging me if I wore something even slightly revealing to class, the list goes on and on.”

Wonwoo shook his head with a huff. “I never knew how you dealt with him, I respected it, but I never understood it.”

“I honestly have no idea either, dude.” You exhaled, your cheeks puffing as you leaned your head back to look at the ceiling fan. “What’s even worse is I faked so many orgasms for that fucker just so he wouldn’t feel bad, I gave the performance of a goddamn lifetime too!”

“You were doing charity work honestly.” He chuckled, sipping his beer once more. “I don’t think I remember you ever saying a single good thing about the guy while you were together, isn’t that crazy?”

“That’s because there wasn’t.” You snickered, your eyes glancing to look at Wonwoo once more. “The worst was when we fought about you, though.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Me?” You nodded, smiling at his expression. “You never once mentioned you guys having arguments because of me?”

“I never wanted you to feel bad because of it.” You shrugged a single shoulder, the rest of your muscles completely relaxed. “You’re my roommate. You’re also an attractive guy. He was a controlling and jealous asshole. It’s pretty easy to put two and two together with how he’d react.” 

Wonwoo seemed conflicted, as if unsure whether to apologize for causing issues or to agree with the sentiment of Si-woo being a terrible partner. Your next words came out like an echo, and your mind was much too slow to stop them from spilling out before they reached your tongue.

“To be fair, he was right to be worried.”

A stifling silence fell upon the cozy living room, and you weren’t even able to fully process what you had actually said because you were too busy taking another shot. The movement of it made you feel fuzzy, and the look Wonwoo was giving you made you giggle.

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyes were slightly narrowed, and his mouth looked oh so attractive at the moment you just wanted to crawl over and nibble on it. A stray laugh escaped your mouth.

“I had a crush on you, dumbass.” You hiccuped, using your hands to emphasize something large. “A biiiiig one, a long time ago~”

You reached down to pour another shot but Wonwoo stopped your hand. You frowned, watching as he brought the soju bottle and glass to his side and away from you. 

“If you’re just gonna sit there drinking your little beer like a baby, one of us has to at least finish all the real alcohol!” You whined, pushing your arm out and attempting to snatch the bottle back weakly.

Wonwoo was still for a moment, and instead of giving in to your complaints proceeded to take a long swig from the bottle itself. You couldn’t hide the dumb grin growing on your face as he drank it all down in one go, a couple of coughs escaping to show his unfamiliarity with the drink.

“There, all gone. No more for you.” He spoke while clearing his throat, and your head was barely able to comprehend the fact that he was right. The bottle Wonwoo had just finished was the last, everything else on the table being empty or with just enough to fill a cap full. You groaned.

“We should go get moreee, you need to get on my level so we’re even.” You grunted, attempting to stand up from your seat on the floor but stumbling and falling back down in your original spot. 

“I don’t think any amount of alcohol would ever get me to the state you’re in right now.” Wonwoo chuckled, his voice low and deep, practically giving you goosebumps. “You should get ready for bed before you black yourself out.”

“You promised you’d distract me from my shitty week, if you send me to my room all I’m gonna do is drive myself insane thinking about everything.” You pouted, swaying slightly and giving your roommate a questioning brow. “Are you going back on your word? Abandoning your drunk, sad, pitiful friend like this?”

Wonwoo let out a deep sigh and you knew you had him, he grabbed his beer once more and took his final sip of it before placing it on the coffee table. “Fine, what do you want to do?”

“Games.” You clapped excitedly, shaking your head when Wonwoo started crawling over to set up the PlayStation a few feet from you both. “Not video games, board games! Or a card game or something.”

“I’m pretty sure we left all our physical stuff at Jun’s place last time we all hung out.” Wonwoo frowned after peering through the glass cubbies of your media cabinet. “I’m not sure we have anything here to play with.”

You thought for a moment, eyeing down the empty shot glass when the idea sprang up almost instantly. “What about ‘Questions’? We haven’t played that in so long!”

“A drinking game? Did you forget that I just downed the rest of the alcohol?” Wonwoo motioned to the table, scratching the back of his neck. “The whole point is to drink if you can’t answer.”

“We can just answer everything then!” You snickered, watching as Wonwoo rubbed his eyes under his glasses, no doubt exhausted by your behavior tonight. “Orrrr we can bet. Whoever doesn’t answer first has to do whatever the winner wants.”

He looked at you for a moment, considering. Those spare seconds allowed your delirious mind to subtly ogle your roommate, your mouth drying up just from a mere once-over of him. He picked out the most basic, comfortable clothes he owned, a plain cotton black tee with loose fitting black sweats, and yet it always baffled you how he still managed to look runway ready. His long black hair was messy, and the itch to run your hands through it all was interrupted when Wonwoo moved to settle in and leaned his elbow on the table, his chin resting in his palm.

“Fine, deal. You first then.” He nodded towards you and you couldn’t help the feelings of excitement and happiness that bubbled up in your stomach. You sat up straight to think.

“If you had to make out with one of the guys, who would you choose?” You cackled loudly as Wonwoo scrunched his face in disgust at the question. He hesitated for a while, and you grinned thinking you might’ve already won.

“Jeonghan, but specifically when he had his long hair.” You let out a noise of approval but he visibly shivered at the thought. “I’d simply close my eyes and try not to think about it.”

“Hot.” Wonwoo threw a stray couch pillow at your face in retaliation and you snorted a laugh. “Jokinggg~ It’s your turn.”

“… So, when exactly did you have that little crush on me?” You rolled your eyes.

“Not letting that confession slip past, I see?” You scoffed at his small self satisfied smirk, the urge to kiss it off fighting every nerve in your intoxicated head. “You’re so obvious, trying to fluster me… but I’m over it buddy. Those dazzling charms don’t work on me anymore!”

“I’m not hearing an answer.” Wonwoo hummed, the corner of his eyes crinkling to match his smile. “Should I take that as me winning? Or~”

You sighed and gave in reluctantly. “A few weeks after becoming friends.” His smile turned to a look of genuine surprise and you suddenly felt a bit self conscious at airing it all out.

“That early on?” He spoke uncharacteristically gently, and you nodded slowly. His brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you ever tell me—“

“Woah there buddy, not your turn anymore!” You laughed a bit anxiously, already trying to think of a question that would get him to lose lest he keep pressing the subject. “My turn now!”

Wonwoo appeared disappointed but motioned a hand for you to continue. The hammering in your chest was a little too hard, and you weren’t sure if it was just because of the soju anymore.

“Why did you and Hana break up?” You spoke softly. In your head it was a sure fire way of winning, he had never told anyone the reason, not even the guys. You respected his privacy enough not to prod the subject, but you figured if there was any time to casually ask about it, it was while the soju was still thrumming strong in your veins. He stayed quiet for a few beats, and right when you were sure you had won, he sighed before answering. 

“We never actually loved each other.” He spoke quietly, almost to the point where you had to strain to hear him. “We distracted each other for a decent amount of time, but that’s pretty much it.”

You knitted your brows together, shocked at how his one answer managed to cause a million other questions to run through your mind. What on earth did he mean by that? Him and Hana were a match made in heaven as far as you were able to see, both of them practically glowing whenever they had each other around. They never fought, always went on dates, hell she even stayed over at the apartment a few times.

“When did it stop?” Wonwoo’s voice tore you out of your own racing thoughts, and you looked at him dumbly.

“What?”

“The feelings you had for me.” He specified, his tone a lot more serious compared to when you began. “When did they stop?”

You swallowed dryly. If you were to be completely honest with yourself, they never went away. The overwhelming crush you had on him had been gone for a while now, but nothing ever really stopped those lingering feelings that still sat heavy in the back of your chest. If they were gone, why were you still finding him as gloriously kissable as the day you’d met.

“When you started dating Hana. I officially gave up around that time.” You let out whatever the liquor allowed you to, trying not to ponder too hard on it. “I mean, I couldn’t exactly have feelings for a taken guy, what would that make me?” An awkward chuckle escaped as you did your best to diffuse the tension a bit.

Wonwoo’s expression was unreadable, and your brain wasn’t even focused on the game anymore. Your head simply became muddled with questions, barely able to remember that you were only allowed to ask one at a time.

“What do you mean by ‘distracted each other’?” It was an odd thing to say no matter how you put it, and there was no guarantee that even if Wonwoo felt that way that Hana did as well. And maybe it was a delusional one track minded bias towards your roommate, but you didn’t want to think that he was just using her either.

“When Mingyu set us up, I had feelings for someone else at the time.” Your eyebrows raised in surprise at the new piece of information, Wonwoo distracted himself by picking at his fingernails. “And when I met Hana, she told me she had feelings for someone else as well. But she said that it would never work out, she was extremely resigned to that fact.”

It took you all but a minute to put the pieces together.

“… Mingyu?” You asked, Wonwoo nodded.

“The person she liked most set her up on a dozen blind dates, how much harder can you really friendzone someone?” You nodded in understanding, feeling a heavy amount of pity for the poor girl. “My own self confidence was pretty low at the time, so we kind of just saw ourselves in one another. We did actually try dating at first but it never really felt right, it became more like a mutual partnership than anything else. We talked a lot, mostly about how hard it was to bottle everything up. We’d go out but would never hold hands, we’d sleep over but I would always take the floor, I’d pat her back while she sobbed over Mingyu and she’d listen to me vent till we knocked out. We just… helped each other. Distracted ourselves for a bit.”

You nodded in thought, noticing a small weight lift off your chest. What he had with Hana was companionship, it was sweet and caring but never romantic. It slightly fascinated you that they were able to maintain such a platonic relationship for an entire year, and baffled you even more that neither even came close to falling for each other when they were both such attractive people inside and out.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Wonwoo’s voice came out slightly strained, prompting you to give him your full attention. He suddenly seemed… frustrated? Upset? You weren’t sure, but the tightening of his jaw and downward gaze made your heart clench just from looking at him.

You could’ve lied, you could’ve said a half truth like being scared of ruining your friendship or that you just hadn’t thought about all that in forever. The alcohol flowing through your bloodstream had other plans though, and you had no restraint as you felt the real answer pour out without a second guess.

“What? And embarrass myself?” You laughed airily, watching Wonwoo’s expression tighten slightly. The most you could offer him was a shrug. “It was more like a fantasy to me, something I used to daydream about. Trust me, I am very self aware of where I rank on the attractiveness scale, especially compared to you. Telling you would’ve done nothing but humiliate the shit out of me, and getting rejected would have sent me spiraling.”

Wonwoo frowned, looking up at you with his brows scrunched in concentration. “Did I do something to come across as unapproachable to you? I hope you know I’d never ever make you feel bad over something like that.”

You shook your head immediately. “Nothing like that at all.” The fuzziness in your brain made your words slur a bit, and you paused before continuing. “I just meant I’ve always thought of you as way too out of my league to even consider—“

Silence.

Wonwoo’s conflicted expression dropped altogether, a small smile forming not too long after. Fine, maybe you’d just hinted that you still thought that way now. But what did you have to lose at this point? He knew about the crush, and there wasn’t much else for you to really expose about yourself. The feeling was oddly liberating, not having to hide or keep it all in anymore. Surely your sober self will be mortified in the morning, but right now you were simply enjoying the freedom that came with your inebriated state.

Just when you were about to scoff out something about never boosting his ego like that ever again, you noticed that the smile that had appeared faded just as quickly. You held your breath, his gaze becoming stone serious.

“I never want to hear you bringing yourself down like that, you have it completely backwards.” The sudden sincerity in his tone took you by complete surprise. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever come across as indifferent to you, but I do think you have severely underestimated just how breathtaking you are.”

Your eyes widened, utterly dumbfounded by the abrupt admittance. In the past three years Wonwoo had only explicitly called you attractive a handful of times, each one forever being burned into your memory as something to cherish. Granted it wouldn’t exactly have been appropriate for him to constantly be calling you hot while he had a girlfriend or when you had a boyfriend, but it just made the flattery he did give that much more heartfelt and genuine. 

You felt your cheeks burn warm and you suddenly became incredibly overwhelmed by the temperature of the living room, pressing the back of your palm to your forehead briefly in a half-assed attempt to cool your face. You offered him a small smile, trying to play off how affected you become just from his praise alone.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” you begin, a mock warning in your voice. “You’re not sly, I know you’re still trying to fluster me.”

“Maybe my goal is to get you to fall for me all over again~” He wiggled his brow, and you felt your eyes roll back for the millionth time that night. “Your turn, go.”

You tried to think of anything other than the one real question that kept stubbornly pushing its way into the front of your mind. You knew it had the power to either help you move on, hurt you, or… something else. You weren’t sure, but one look at Wonwoo and it felt almost as if he knew what you were thinking. Without wasting another second, the question tumbled out without a spare thought.

“You mentioned having feelings for someone when you started dating Hana…” You licked your lips, trying to sound as casual as you could but failing miserably. “Who was it?”

The stare you gave Wonwoo was anything but subtle, but you didn’t care. Your heart pounded, palms sweated, face heated as you found that you didn’t care to hide it anymore. It had been years since the “end” of your crush and you had already spilled everything tonight, the least he could do was give you the closure you’d been craving all this—

“You.” 

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as Wonwoo offered a genuine smile. You simultaneously wanted to smack it off and kiss it off at the same time. You had to remind yourself that this was years ago he was talking about, not now. It was the only thing grounding you to the spot and keeping yourself from lunging at him.

“You’re such a dumbass.” You let slip, making Wonwoo’s smile fall slightly from his face. “What kind of idiot gets into a relationship with another girl when he has a crush on someone else? Talk about self sabotage.”

“Now how the hell was I supposed to know you liked me too?”

“Dude, you really think I actually enjoyed just sitting there and watching you play League for five hours straight?”

“Do you think I enjoyed driving you to the official Sanrio store every week to look at the same five plushies you were never gonna buy?”

“… Touché.” 

You both let out a stream of chuckles, but your muddled mind couldn’t let go of the fact that at one point in time, you both had feelings for one another. The guy who you dreamt and fantasized about for a year straight had liked you. Not only that, but he’d liked you even when he was with Hana, one of the most beautiful girls you’d ever seen. Your heated blood combined with the temperature of the room grew to be almost unbearable.

“If you don’t mind me asking, then…” You picked at a stray thread coming from the bottom of your shorts to keep yourself busy. “When did the feelings stop? On your end, I mean.” 

You looked up at Wonwoo when he remained quiet, his expression unreadable. You raised an irritated brow at him when you couldn’t handle the silence anymore, and he grinned mischievously.

“I would answer, but it’s not your turn~” He hummed, you groaned.

“Fine, go.” He didn’t even hesitate to ask his next question, your entire body tensed.

“You said the thought of us together was like a fantasy to you,” your finger that had been picking at a thread pulled it out a little too harshly, “what kinda stuff did you fantasize about?”

The copious amount of alcohol in your bloodstream wasn’t nearly enough to answer any easier than if you were sober. You couldn’t quite look at his face, but felt only a portion of the truth slip past your lips. It took every ounce of strength in your body to restrain yourself from exposing more than needed.

“Just, you know, stuff that everyone thinks about when they like someone.” You shrugged, fighting the blush creeping up your neck. “Going on dates, holding hands, sometimes kissing…”

“Being intimate?” Wonwoo asked and you froze, indirectly answering the question for him. “Was I good at it? In those fantasies?”

You didn’t need to look at him to realize he was probably just messing with you now, and you suddenly felt a small rush of regret for the potential ammo you’ve just given him to tease you for the years to come. Sure, he’d confessed his past feelings too, but that was still nothing in comparison to just how much you’d spilled about yourself tonight.

“Have you ever thought about me? When you were—“

“It’s my turn!” You interjected, eager to get a break from embarrassing yourself further. “You need to answer my question first.” 

He shut his mouth and nodded, sitting back slightly with his hands relaxing in his lap. Perhaps it was wishful thinking or the soju clouding your brain, but after finally looking at his face again you noticed he seemed to be more genuinely curious than joking. His posture was straight, and his demeanor was surprisingly serious for someone who only meant to tease you.

“Same question I asked before.” You spoke softly, looking him up and down. “When did your feelings stop?”

Your heart practically stopped beating when he shook his head, his posture still stiff and seemingly anxious. You crinkled your brow, unsure if you actually understood the meaning of his response.

“They didn’t.” He spoke a bit shakily with a nervous grin plastered on, you felt a clump form in the back of your throat. “I ended things with Hana because I started feeling bad. We used to be pretty balanced when it came to communication, but after you started dating Si-woo… Let’s just say she listened to me vent a lot more than was healthy for either of us.”

You stayed quiet and unbearably still, afraid that moving would wake you from the potential dream you were currently experiencing.

“No matter how hard I tried, I’ve just never been able to stop thinking about you.” He mumbled carefully, eyeing your reaction. “But that’s not to say I can’t suppress it, as long as I have you in my life at all I’m more than happy. Even if it’s just as friends—“

“I used to go to sleep imagining what your lips would feel like.” You croaked out before you could stop yourself. Wonwoo’s eyes widened. “They just… they always looked so soft… I wanted to kiss you until I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore.” 

“Wh— What…” He stuttered out, swallowing loudly. “Um, what else did you think about?”

“Whenever I went into your room while you were playing a game, I’d imagine you grabbing my waist and pulling me into your lap.” You shuddered slightly, watching Wonwoo’s eyes darken. “I thought about h-how your hand might feel squeezing my thighs, my waist… brushing under my shirt.”

“You remember that heat wave we had a few months ago? The one where our AC broke for a week straight?” He tilted his head slightly as he looked you up and down, you nodded your head slowly. “I lied about the maintenance guy being booked. I just wanted to see you walking around the apartment in that skimpy little tank top and those silk short-shorts a little longer.”

You smiled at that, your blood pumping faster at the thought that you might’ve affected him just as much as he affected you. Your eyes locked on the pair of lips that had plagued your mind for years and your mouth went dry.

“I used to think to myself a lot, about how hot you look in those glasses.” You spoke dumbly, biting your bottom lip as if to reign it in for the time being. “I always wanted to know if they stayed on. Whenever you…“

His brow raised almost instantly at your question, he smiled a little and adjusted the pair of glasses almost instinctively. You all but drooled at the sight, finding it nearly impossible to control anything at this point.

”They tend to either fall off or fog up, so I typically just take them off.” Wonwoo said, seeming to think over his next sentence carefully. “But I guess I wouldn’t mind trying to keep them on, if it was something my partner was into.”

You had to force yourself not to nod subconsciously, your veins thrumming at the very familiar fantasy of a half naked Wonwoo holding himself above you in his dorky little glasses. Instead you chose to shift your position to sit on your hands, lest your arms decide to reach out and touch the very tempting man seated across from you.

“Have you ever thought about me?” You scrunch your nose at Wonwoo, making it clear you didn’t fully understand his question. He let out a slightly shaky breath but spoke in a voice that oozed seriousness. “When touching yourself… Did the thought of me ever make you…”

You grinned and bit down the blunt ‘orgasm?’ that attempted to spring from your throat haphazardly. You looked towards the floor, still a slight bit anxious despite everything already having been aired in the open.

“I’d say nearly every time.” You chuckled softly, the silence that followed not going unnoticed. “I felt really guilty and awful, especially since I was dating Si-woo at the time and I also felt like I was objectifying my best friend. But then somehow it kinda ended up being the only way I could get that release, it’s fucked up I know… I should’ve just tried porn or something—“

“I thought you said you stopped liking me after I started dating Hana?”

You froze, gaining an entire arms worth of goosebumps at the note of realization in Wonwoo’s tone. You licked your dry lips, willing your voice not to crack.

“Uh, y-yeah. I did.”

“But you started seeing Si-woo after me and Hana got together.”

“O-oh, yeah you’re right I was probably just confused—“

“So you lied then?” Wonwoo’s posture was arrow straight, not a single hint as to what could possibly be happening in his brain. “You still liked me, even after I started dating Hana?”

You looked him in the eyes, mouth opening and closing but the words remained stuck in the back of your throat. He waited patiently, eyes locked in and tracking every move you dared to make, from the ragged breaths you took to your fidgeting fingers gripping the carpet fibers.

“… I lied.” You nodded, unable to look away from his piercing gaze. “I-I mean the enormous crush I had on you disappeared but… those feelings are still—“

Wonwoo didn’t wait for you to finish, he stood from his place across the coffee table and walked over to sit next to you. Your eyes followed his movements nervously, shifting awkwardly to give him a few inches of space.

Both of you now sat with your backs to the foot of the couch, your bodies facing forward with your heads turned towards one another. Wonwoo studied your face carefully and you swore you felt your cheeks burn an impossible shade of red.

“You know I won, right?” Wonwoo smiled softly, causing your intoxicated brain to stutter at the sudden shift in topic.

“What?” 

“You lied to me. That counts as refusing to answer a question.” He shrugged slightly. “That means I won the game.”

You huffed out in mild annoyance, acknowledging that there was some validity in his reasoning. You were the one who rattled on yourself, there was no sense in fighting him.

“Fine, you won.” You admitted with a sigh, pouting out your bottom lip. An act that immediately caught Wonwoo’s gaze, and you felt your heart pick up its pace slightly.

“I believe there was a bet in place too,” Wonwoo spoke slowly, inching slightly closer to your side, “the loser has to do whatever the winner wants,” he brought his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his finger grazing your cheek and causing you to shiver, “do you remember?”

You nodded softly, anxiety and nervousness and excitement all bubbling up together in one big mesh of feelings within your chest. The proximity of your face to Wonwoo’s was close, but he was hesitating slightly and you were itching to pull him into you already.

“Is this okay?” Wonwoo asked shakily, cupping your chin and pressing his forehead to yours. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

You nodded once more, a little too enthusiastically this time. Your hands slid up to wrap around his neck and lock him in place, as if subconsciously terrified of him changing his mind.

“God yes…” You practically whispered, Wonwoo smiled softly at your words. “Please, I—“

The kiss was gentle, at least at first. Nothing but the soft feeling of pressing lips together and the closeness it provided. And yet at the same time it felt like a gong being smacked in your head, ringing throughout your ears and reverberating throughout your entire body. The motion of his lips moving against your own combined with his scent, the feeling of his calloused thumb stroking your cheek so carefully, it made you feel lightheaded. It was as if you were floating on nothing, completely weightless, the only thing grounding you being Wonwoo’s lips on yours.

He pulled away too quickly, looking at you seemingly for some kind of confirmation that what you both were doing was still okay. You gave him another quick nod, and he immediately dove back in.

The second time was much more intense, both of your eagerness quickly surpassing Wonwoo’s original intent to keep it slow and steady. Your lips moved languidly, opening slightly in an attempt to deepen the kiss to which he hungrily accepted. His hand hurriedly shifted to the back of your head to grab a handful of hair and tug it gently, it lowered to your neck, to your shoulders, to your arms, your waist. He gave you a squeeze and pulled you closer, almost like he couldn’t feel enough of you as quickly as he wanted. You clung on to the back of his neck like your life depended on it, relishing in the firm grip of his hands on your waist.

Your blood was on fire, every inch of you burning to be touched and to get closer to him. Your head grew dizzy from the very thought that any of this was actually happening, that Wonwoo was kissing you like he needed it to survive, that you were kissing him back. You almost didn’t believe it was real, that any moment now you’d wake up in a puddle of sweat in your bed and panting like a damn dog. If your hands weren’t the only thing steadying you from the exhilarating feeling of Wonwoo’s lips on yours you might’ve tried pinching your thigh to wake yourself up.

After a few breathless moments Wonwoo pulled his mouth away, moving to kiss your jaw up and down, his favorite spot being right below your ear. The sound of his heavy breathing caused your entire body to shiver and you practically felt his smirk press into your skin. His mouth moved to the crook of your neck, licking slowly and sensually before sucking the places he especially liked. His mouth trailed back up your neck to nibble on a particularly sensitive spot and you involuntarily let out a small whine. 

Wonwoo froze, and you started panicking.

“Oh god I-I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I sound like that I’ll be more quiet—“

He dove back in to kiss you with a renewed fervor, his hands gripping your sides as if to anchor him as he let out a muffled groan. You gasped into his lips as he kissed you roughly, drinking you in as much as physically possible.

You couldn’t stop the satisfied smile that grew on your lips as you climbed yourself into Wonwoo’s lap, causing him to release an incredibly strained moan. His arms tightened around you, and his hands dipped under your sweater to make skin to skin contact with your waist. You arched into it, encouraging him as those same hands trailed up your back and down your spine, sending waves of tingles throughout your body. 

The two of you continued to kiss heatedly as Wonwoo proceeded to explore your stomach and upper ribs, not allowing himself nor you the pleasure of touching just a little higher and causing you to whine repeatedly. He seemed to partially enjoy being a tease, partially hate torturing himself by holding back.

“I-I can’t… Touch…” Wonwoo mumbled out between wet kisses, you eventually detached yourself from his mouth to return the favor of sucking and licking his neck, somewhat allowing him to get a few more words out. “I can’t touch you…”

You frowned slightly and nibbled on his collarbone before pulling away to face him. His hair was a wreck and sticking up everywhere, his glasses were fogged and barely hanging off the edge of his nose, his pale skin was beginning to flush and his eyes were lidded and dilated. If you hadn’t known that the guy had been sipping the same beer for the past two hours you might’ve thought he was completely hammered.

“Why? Why not?” You crinkled a brow, placing your hands around his own that had been gently stroking the skin just above your stomach. “It’d feel so nice, soft, sensitive…” You slowly inched his hands higher, and felt his fingers subconsciously brush against the underside of your breast. Wonwoo let out a surprised grunt and you silently celebrated your choice of going braless beneath your oversized sweater. You tilted your head all the way back and leaned into his touch with a whimper, trying to get him to do it again.

“Fuck, fuck…” Wonwoo practically whispered, his breath hitching as he closed his eyes in an attempt to regain his control. He took a few deep breaths but froze his motions completely much to your irritation, you huffed out in frustration and wiggled in his lap impatiently causing whatever remaining strings were left in him to snap.

He removed one of his hands and used it to pull you closer to him. His hand roughly gripped the back of your head to rest on his shoulder while his other traveled to your sternum, still not quite close enough to touch your breasts but enough to make you audibly groan out. 

“Are you trying to fucking torture me, huh?” He choked out, his already deep voice managing to go two octaves lower. “I’ve thought about this moment for years. You know how easily I could make you come right here? Right now?”

You whined and nodded quickly, feeling his hand sliding back downwards toward your navel. His mouth was pressed right against your ear, and the sound of his heavy breathing was fueling the boiling ache between your legs like nothing else.

“But no. I’m gonna take my time. I want to spend hours on you. I want to make sure you come back begging for me to touch you again.” His fingers trail the outline of your panties, causing you to shiver. “I’ll fuck you so good and dirty that it’s all you think about for months. You’ll be coming to my room in the middle of the night craving my tongue, and I guarantee my face will be buried between those thighs till you’re dumb and limp.”

Your entire body tensed up as the fire in your blood burned hotter, your whimpers became desperate as the desire to grind down on Wonwoo grew exponentially stronger. He seemed to catch on to this, immediately moving his hands to your hips to stall any movement. You groan out in irritation.

“But, I refuse to do any of that when you’re drunk.” His once incredibly lustful tone turned into one of gentleness and patience. You moved back from his shoulder to meet his eyes, gleaming with sincerity. “I need you to be completely aware of what we’re doing. I need you to be one hundred percent certain that this is something you want. And you definitely can’t do that right now.”

You pouted and were about to argue when you felt a spell of dizziness hit like a slap to the face. You gripped his shoulder to stabilize yourself, and his hold on your waist hardened to help steady you. 

“See I know you’re right, but part of me is even more turned on that you’re being a good person and not taking advantage of me.”

Wonwoo laughed audibly, his goofy smile warming your heart and instantly reminding you of how you came to fall for him in the first place. You leaned in to offer another slow, languid kiss to which he accepted. The fact that you could do that now, just kiss him whenever you wanted to, it was genuinely like a dream you never wanted to wake up from. You sneakily attempted to escalate the kiss before you felt your head being tugged back.

“That’s enough, bedtime.” You whined.

“Now tell me why the hell you riled me up that much if you were just going to send me to bed.” You frowned, pouting as Wonwoo chuckled.

“I held back for three years, do you have any idea how much self control it’s taking just for me to stop?” He smiled, fidgeting with a loose strand of your hair. “I can wait one more day, but first I need to make sure you don’t wake up regretting all this.”

You shook your head quickly, not wanting that thought to plague his mind for even a second. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and leaned in to hug him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

“Never. I could never regret any of this.” You murmured, feeling your eyes flutter shut. A rumbling from his chest that indicated a soft laugh reverberated through your body, and you distantly felt yourself getting picked up off the ground and taken into your own bed.

As you felt the familiarity of your blankets and sheets being tucked in tightly around you, you realized he had no intention to stay. It took ninety nine percent of your inebriated brain’s capacity, but you managed to quickly snatch one of his hands before he turned to go to his own room.

“Stay tonight..” you mumbled out without even opening your eyes, you felt his hand tense. “I won’t do anything, just stay…”

The last thing you felt was the feeling of the bed sinking in next to you as you drifted into a dreamless sleep.

-

You were hot.

Extremely hot.

Did you forget to take off your clothes before bed last night? You typically slept in your underwear for that exact reason.

You shifted your legs slightly and grunted out when you felt the thick lining of your favorite sweatpants rub against one another. No wonder.

You adjusted your position in an attempt to remove the pants when you suddenly found yourself locked in place, a heavy weight over your shoulder pressing down and restricting you from moving freely. Not only that, a warm, soft hand was gently wrapped around your own.

Your eyes flew open as you suddenly became extremely aware of the predicament you’d put yourself in. His breathing felt slow and steady, indicating that the former still hadn’t woken up yet. His mouth seemed to be directly behind your neck, if the warm air continuously tickling the back of it was any indication. You let out a small shiver at the feeling.

And to make matters even worse, the hard length that seemed to be poking into your leg definitely belonged to none other than the guy you viciously made out with last night. 

IT WAS REAL?!

The splitting headache you’d initially felt completely dissipated as you instead focused on your actions last night. Your first thoughts began with denial, the truth that you’d spilt the entirety of your guts and more to your roommate and best friend who’d just been trying to cheer you up… it was humiliating. Not only that, you practically threw yourself into his lap and shoved your tongue down his throat.

You closed your eyes tightly as you held back the urge to sneak out of bed and run to the nearest airport. Maybe you could vacation to America for a bit, you spoke a decent amount of English, you could get by. Just long enough for Wonwoo to forget how desperate you had behaved last night—

I will never recover from this…

Next came the anger at yourself for drinking that much in the first place, what did you think was going to happen?? You were freshly single, drinking an absurd amount of alcohol around the guy you’d been fantasizing about since you MET him. You could barely control your hormones when you were sober, nevermind when you’re completely wasted.

Yeah, big genius you were.

Not only that, the two of you are roommates. What if things got awkward now? What if you had to avoid each other, what if he’s grossed out—

Wait.

…

He wasn’t grossed out.

In fact, if you remembered correctly, he had muttered absolute filth into your ear about what he wanted to do with you. He’d even been encouraging it as much as you were egging him on, he liked you back. He admitted it himself—

OH MY GOD?!

WONWOO LIKED YOU BACK?!

Your eyes opened once more and your jaw dropped slightly in realization, the soft snores from the man behind you had slowed to a halt and you felt your body tense. His limbs stirred and he lifted his head groggily to check if you were awake.

“Good Morning…” His raspy morning voice caused a tingle to run through your spine, and he didn’t even hesitate to offer a small kiss on your temple before laying back down. Your heart melted, and you slowly moved to pinch yourself slightly just to double check.

It seemed he was hit with a reality check of his own too though, because not long after the kiss you felt his entire body stiffen. He stuttered out, trying to form a sentence but struggling.

“I— uh… are you? O-OH!! Oh I am so sorry—“ 

He cleared his throat and shifted back slightly, enough so that you wouldn't be able to feel his “morning problem” against you. Your face flushed as you found yourself disappointed by its absence.

“I—it’s okay…” you coughed out, voice hoarse and mouth dry from all the alcohol you’d consumed the night prior. “I didn’t really mind…”

Wonwoo hesitated for a beat but never removed his arms from being wrapped around you, which you took as a good sign. You placed your free hand atop his and squeezed, boldly snuggling further back into his arms to let him know you were okay with being held by him. His muscles relaxed, squeezing you tightly in return and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“Do you… Remember last night?” Wonwoo mumbled into your skin, goosebumps prickling your arms at the feeling. “You drank so much, I wouldn’t be surprised if you blacked any of it out…”

“… I remember everything.” You confirmed in a small voice, still a bit anxious for some reason. “At least I think I do? I could have definitely just imagined some portions, I’m not too sure what was fantasy and what was reality.”

Wonwoo laughed softly and you had to admit it was a bit embarrassing, knowing that he was practically sober all night while you had drowned your sorrows in soju and were unable to trust your own recollections.

“How about you tell me what you remember and I’ll let you know if it happened or not then?” Wonwoo suggested, and you felt your heart rate quicken at having to say it all aloud again. You knew that at least some of your memories had to be real, judging from the forehead kiss he’d given you and the clinginess he’d been showing, but what if you had completely imagined the steamy parts? It would be even more embarrassing…

You were way too sober to go through this again.

You sucked in a breath and started easy. “I confessed that I used to have a crush on you last night.”

“Wrong.” Your heart stopped briefly. “You confessed that you still have a crush on me last night. Present tense.”

You elbowed his side softly, causing a deep chuckle to escape his chest. “You know what I meant.” Still, a small bit of pressure was slightly lifted off your shoulders at his confirmation. “You told me you have feelings for me too.”

Wonwoo nodded his answer, his head still buried into your neck. You smiled at that, never once thinking that him returning your crush was even a possibility in the past.

“We—“ you paused, treading into dangerous territory. “We kissed… a lot. I got on your lap.”

You felt him clench his fingers around your own slightly. And before he could confirm or deny the claim, you rushed to get the rest out as well.

“You said some things… Some really, really dirty things…”

“I did.” Wonwoo spoke stiffly, probably embarrassed in his own way. You felt a rush of excitement at the confirmation, and a bit of nervousness as his rigid body tensed up behind you.

You both stayed that way, still and quiet for a few minutes, processing everything that had happened and where to continue from there. It was a lot easier and a lot less nerve wracking when you were drunk, but you gathered enough courage to softly press your behind into Wonwoo’s front.

A grunt of surprise escaped his throat and you sucked in your lip, hoping that it wasn’t too late to collect on last night's promises. You pressed back again, this time rolling your hips slightly in encouragement.

“Y-you… you still want…” Wonwoo groaned, his hand instinctively clinging on to your lower waist to pull you closer into him.

“Yes.” You sighed, wiggling slightly as you heard him suck in a sharp breath. “And for fucks sake touch me this time.” 

Wonwoo didn’t need to be told twice, his hand immediately dipped under your sweater, once again exploring your navel, your sternum. An incoherent moan forced its way from your throat when his hand finally cupped your breast, kneading and prodding.

“It fits so perfectly in my hand, doesn’t it?” He gave a soft squeeze, using his index finger to play with your perked nipple. “God what I would give to see them bounce while I pound into you…”

You couldn’t do anything but whine when he moved his mouth to kiss your neck, never once stopping his ministrations on your chest. The feeling of his tongue traveling up to your earlobe then back down to your shoulder was almost enough to make you scream into your pillow, you clung to his bicep desperately as you practically melted into his arms.

You could barely register this was actually happening, hell you would’ve thought you’d been dropped directly into one of your dirty dreams if it weren’t for the fact that his physical presence around you was so strong. His scent, his weight, his voice… God you would have never imagined Wonwoo would be so vocal in bed.

.. Not that you were complaining one bit.

“Speaking of…” He spoke directly into your ear, causing a pool of heat to rise in your lower belly. His hand released your breast, finally exploring lower and dipping beneath your underwear. “Let me see just how fucking wet you get for me baby.”

You were practically panting at this point, and the soft pressure he provided as he prodded your folds almost made you come on the spot. You were getting impatient and he knew it too, proceeding to circle your clit with a deliberate smirk as he moved his hand faster, his eyes observing every detail of your desperate expression.

“Are you gonna look like this when I put my dick in you? God I bet it would just slide right in…” He let out a hollow chuckle as he inserted a single finger, making sure to also put pressure on his palm. You instinctively attempted to grind into it, shivering when he let out a deep groan. “What kind of noises do you make when you come, huh? I wanna hear them all.”

You gasp as his hand picks up its pace and he curls his fingers inward to find the perfect spot. You attempt to ground yourself by gripping the sheets, crying out and pleading for any kind of release from the intense pressure threatening to burst.

“Wonwoo… fuck! Pleaseeee!” You whined out, any leftover teasing in his voice seemed to dissipate at that.

“You’re gonna come on my fingers, then on my face, then on my cock.” He spoke carefully, inserting another digit and causing you to hum out in relief. “Then we’re gonna repeat it, over and over until you’re completely satisfied and your legs can’t even function anymore.”

You were gasping for air, eyes screwed shut as you focused in on the strings in your body tightening enough to snap any godforsaken second. He used his other arm to shift you from your side to your back, his face right above yours as you involuntarily spread your legs even wider to grant him better access. He chuckled darkly.

“You look so fucking good all desperate like this.” He mumbled, slamming his digits into you as he watched your reactions. “Open your eyes. I want you to look at me while I make you come.”

You struggled to focus but eventually your lids fluttered open, finding Wonwoo’s direct eye contact nerve wracking at first but soon realizing how much more intense it made everything feel. His finger curled once more and you arched instinctively, reaching a hand up to grip onto his muscular shoulder as an anchor.

“You like that baby?” He smiled slightly, eyes darkening with every small reaction you let out, you nodded quickly. “When you told me no one’s ever made you come I took that as a challenge, you know?”

You whimpered as he shifted to use his free hand to lift your top, nipples hardening as they made contact with the cold morning air. He took a moment to quietly admire their shape and size, but before you could begin to feel even slightly self conscious Wonwoo had leaned down to take one eagerly into his mouth.

You squeaked in surprise as the pleasure began to overwhelm you, your eyes screwing shut against your will and your mouth forming a giant ‘o’ as Wonwoo flicked his tongue around your breast, nibbling softly all while pressing his palm onto your clit.

“F-fuck!!” You cried out, moving your hand to grip the back of Wonwoo’s hair in encouragement. “Please please pleaseeee!! You’re gonna make me comeee!”

Wonwoo picked up his pace and sucked harder, causing you to scream out as all the sensations combined into a height you’d never even come close to replicating with your own fingers. You tugged Wonwoo’s head back suddenly to pull him off your breast, opting instead to pull him into a sloppy, messy kiss that was all tongue and teeth.

Your breathing staggered and an embarrassingly throaty noise escaped as the pressure finally burst into a feeling of complete euphoria. Your entire body twitched involuntarily and you groaned as Wonwoo pulled away from your lips to watch you ride through the sensation.

His fingers never stopped toying with your clit and his whispers of encouragement kept coming, creating an orgasm that felt more intense than anything you’d ever experienced before.

“That’s it baby, I want you to feel so fucking good, I want you to feel everything.” He muttered softly, not once slowing his fingers' pace. “I’m gonna make it so you feel this good whenever you want. You look so perfect like this, you’re so good for me.”

You whimpered when the stimulation grew too intense, and Wonwoo removed his fingers carefully. He leaned down to kiss you softly, sweetly and your heart fluttered at how gently he placed his hand on the back of your neck to pull you into it.

“Did you feel good?” He asked, pulling back to observe your face, scanning for any sign of regret or hesitation. “Was that okay for you?”

You breathed deeply, body limp with barely any energy remaining but you managed to nod enthusiastically. He chuckled and you immediately leaned in to kiss him once more.

“God, yes.” You murmured into his lips, using both your hands to pull him in deeper. “I could’ve probably come just from you speaking to me like that.”

He laughed heartily into the kiss and your chest warmed as he held you close, as if afraid you’d disappear if he let go. You bit his bottom lip and prodded his mouth open, meeting each other's tongue once more. 

A needy whine escaped your throat when his mouth's pace remained steady against your own,  you decided that he was way too calm for how hard he had just made you cum. He finally let out a deep growl when you gripped the back of his hair tightly and you felt the corners of your lips quirk up into a satisfied smirk.

“I want you to feel good too…” you muttered in an attempt to be sultry, moving your hands down his body to graze his hard length. He groaned loudly, pulling you in tightly as you ushered him on to his back, moving to straddle him.

“I thought I told you.” He grinned and pulled back from the kiss, using his own hand to stop yours from unbuttoning his pants. “This is for you. You already came on my fingers, now I want to taste you.”

You tensed at the idea of Wonwoo putting his mouth on you, a spark of both excitement and nervousness flooding the pit of your stomach in a dangerous mixture. The instant pooling of moisture between your legs was your body’s own indication that it had no qualms with his suggestion, but Wonwoo could sense your hesitation almost immediately and sat up to look at you.

“I hope you know I would never do anything you’re uncomfortable with though, are you okay?” His concerned expression softened your resolve almost immediately, and you nodded your head.

“I’m okay, it’s just… No one’s actually ever done something like that to me, down there…” Your face reddened slightly and Wonwoo’s eyes widened in pure shock. “I'm just worried it might, you know, smell or taste weird or something.”

“So it’s not just that Si-woo was bad at sex, but he never even tried something as simple as that either?” Wonwoo questioned in disbelief, you nodded with an embarrassed chuckle. “… Two years together, and the guy never even thought about eating you out?”

You felt your neck beginning to flush at his reaction. “I asked him if we could try once or twice, but he was kinda grossed out by it. I just gave up on the idea after a while.”

Wonwoo’s jaw went slack in a mixture of horror and incredulity, and you couldn’t help a stray giggle from escaping as he didn’t even hesitate to flip the two of you around. Your back was once again flat against the mattress, and you bit your lip in anticipation as he wasted no time in pulling your sweats down.

“I’ve wanted to do this for three fucking years…” He muttered, his tone giving your arm goosebumps at how deep and serious his voice was. “The amount of times I’ve thought about how you might taste… And that fucker couldn’t even be bothered to— You know what, I’m not going to bring him up right now.”

Wonwoo leaned down to take your mouth in his for a desperate kiss, his tongue circling yours and tingling deeply as if cherishing the closeness and intimacy. He pulled away slowly, trailing his tongue down your cheek to your neck and up to your ear while nipping at your most sensitive spots.

“Right now, all I want is for you to think about how good I’m making you feel,” he whispered, you let out a pathetic whimper as he traced the outline of your soaked panties with his fingertips. “I want you to scream out my name while I fuck you with my tongue.”

He leaned back and pulled up your sweater, taking a moment to blatantly admire your chest once again before diving in to take your left breast into his mouth, his hand palming the other. You squeaked at the sudden stimulation, arching into his wandering tongue as he proceeded to lick lower, and lower.

His kisses peppered along the top of your underwear and you tensed, he looked up at you reassuringly and brushed his lips softly along your inner thighs, squeezing and licking. You held your breath in anticipation but noticed his kisses had softened as if to soothe your very obvious nerves. You held his gaze as he nuzzled his cheek into your thigh, he was very obviously waiting for your approval to proceed any further and all it did was turn you on even more.

“Please…” You whispered, nerves on edge and the heat in your stomach only growing hotter. You wanted him to rip your underwear off already, to finally feel what someone’s mouth would feel like down there. His warm breath grazing against your heat was already exciting you even more, and you held your breath as a teasing grin bloomed on his face.

What you weren’t expecting was Wonwoo to lick you directly over your panties, right where your lips were. Your eyes widened and a guttural groan left your throat without meaning to. The feeling sent an electric shock shooting straight down your spine, and you braced yourself as he teased you, pressing his hot mouth and wet tongue against the already soaked barrier of your underwear.

“Oh… oh my god…” you gasped, shocked that simply feeling his mouth kissing you down there could elicit such a strong reaction from your body. Your mouth was stuck open in silent screams as he finally pushed your underwear to the side and began devouring you without restraint.

You barely even recognized the noises you made as your own, mind going completely blank as your muscles tensed at the vibrations of Wonwoo humming into your pussy. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself, lapping up from top to bottom, swirling his tongue and licking up every single crevice like he was a man starved. 

It was an experience you’d never felt anything like before, your skin and blood on fire from the heat his mouth emanated. Every lick stoked a flame that burned hotter and hotter until you were practically chanting his fucking name over and over again.

“Fuckkk, Wonwoooo!!” You cried as his pace slowed down, his desperate slurps turning into long, slow licks right down your slit. The tip of his tongue circled the nub atop your sensitive folds and you were groaning at how you could feel him smirking into your cunt.

“Hmmm.. I love when you say my name~” He mumbled darkly as he continued to flatten his tongue over your folds, chuckling as you blindly reached for the back of his hair to steady yourself. “When you come I want you to scream it out for me, okay baby?”

You nodded exasperatedly, eyes practically rolling into the back of your head when Wonwoo decided to insert a single digit. You cried out as you felt your walls clench around it, the feeling of something filling you almost enough to send you over the edge. His pace quickened, and you swear stars blinded your vision once his tongue began to flick your clit in time with his finger.

If your brain wasn’t currently MIA you might’ve been embarrassed at how quickly he was about to make you come again.

“Pleaseeee, Wonu!“ you opened your eyes to look down and realized he’d been observing you the entire time. You arched helplessly and released a strained moan. “Please I’m so fucking closeeee!”

His speed picked up slightly at your desperate tone, but it was him inserting a second digit along with his tongue lingering a little too long over your clit that sent you finally careening over the edge.

And fuck did you feel weightless.

Your entire body shuddered, your eyes scrunching shut as you felt your orgasm plummet you off a cliff and free falling into the air. Waves of unbridled pleasure crashed through you as Wonwoo continued his ministrations the entire way through it, and you heard in the far distance the sound of your own voice screaming his name out deliriously.

Your eyes opened to a blurry ceiling, your head and body still reeling from the aftermath of bliss you’d just experienced. Wonwoo remained between your legs, peppering soft kisses against your thighs and you couldn’t help the actual audacity this man had to be so talented with his tongue.

“Come up here before I ask you to do that all over again.” You pant out, completely spent and only half serious. Wonwoo smiled giddily and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“You might need to pry me away… Because fuck if I could eat this every day—”

You tugged on his shoulder insistently with an exhausted giggle, and he reluctantly came up to your side to wrap his arms around you. You burrowed your face into his chest with a content sigh, smiling to yourself as you timed your breaths to the sound of his heartbeat.

“Good?” He questioned as if he didn’t already know the answer, you scoffed but nodded anyway.

“Phenomenal, outstanding, unparalleled!“

“Same goes for how you taste~” Wonwoo grinned. “Delicious, exquisite, absolutely delectable—“

“Next time I want to taste you too~” You teased, tracing the outline of his muscles, watching them tense up as you neared his nipple. You looked up as his expression suddenly strained, and you mentally smacked yourself as you noticed his obscene hardness poking into your side.

“Please don’t worry about it.” He shrugged casually, snuggling you further into his chest with a happy cat-like grin. “Close your eyes, let’s enjoy the rest of the morning and sleep in.”

You frowned, you knew he was trying to allow you ample time to rest and recover. Two orgasms back to back was practically unheard of when it came to your sex life after all, and your body was definitely not used to it. But three years of sexual tension was a long time to wait, and you were not about to blue ball him after everything he just did for you.

“I thought you said you were gonna make me come three times?” You questioned boldly, reciting his words from earlier this morning. Your hands trailed down to the top of his sweats and you noticed his jaw clench. “First on your fingers, then your face, then your cock—“

His mouth was back on yours instantly, his fervent kisses already winding you up and sparking a dim heat in your belly once more. You knew it wasn’t likely for you to finish again, but you also knew your body was aching to feel Wonwoo inside you. It was a carnal desire that went past pleasure, you just needed him as connected to you as physically possible.

“We don’t have to, we can just relax if you want instead.” Wonwoo mumbled out as he pulled away from your lips. His eyes were dark and heavy but there was still enough clarity in them to show he was still able to control himself. “I know you’re tired, if this is just for me I don’t want you to feel obligated—“

“I want you.” You interrupt, watching his molten eyes dilate and most of the clarity disappear all too quickly. Your hand reached lower, gripping the hardness of his length through his pants and he inhaled a sharp breath. “I need you inside me. I’ve never needed anything more—“

It was the last confirmation he needed to hear before attacking your lips again, crawling above you while sliding his sweats off easily. You grinned into the kiss and let out a gasp as he prodded your entrance with his finger, swirling your clit with his thumb.

A mewl escaped you as your sensitive bud was played with gently, you released his mouth and he immediately dipped down to flick your nipple with his tongue playfully. He kissed and sucked at your breast until you were careening into him once more, a faint rush of heat pulsing in your core as he slid his finger inside.

“It’s so soft in here.” Wonwoo breathed out, his patience very obviously wearing thin. You shivered at the sound of his voice, knowing that he definitely felt the swell of wetness that came just from hearing him talk. “Are you gonna let me fuck you nice and good, baby?

You cried out at the overbearing stimulation combined with his words, moving your hips in time with his fingers thrusting inside you. He entered another digit and you immediately knew it wasn’t going to be enough.

“Put it in. Fuck!” You groaned as he put a bit more pressure on your still recovering clit. You felt him shuffle with his underwear, kicking it off somewhere that you couldn’t be bothered to think about at this moment. “Put it in me right now. Fuck a condom, I’m on birth control.”

Wonwoo stuttered in his motions and let out a shaky exhale, muttering curses under his breath as he tried to keep his composure at the new information. You needed him raw, you needed to feel every inch of him pounding into you and you needed it immediately.

You relaxed your body when you felt him lining himself up to your entrance, and you both moaned cohesively as he rubbed his tip along your folds to moisten it up. He pushed in softly, slowly, carefully as you felt yourself fill up inch by inch.

He was big. Not too girthy but exquisitely long, and the further he entered you the more you were shocked at how easily your body allowed him to slide right in. You could feel the veins pulsing alongside his length and your walls clamping down around him, effectively keeping him locked in place. The two of you breathed out deeply as he finally bottomed out, and you’d never felt more full in your entire life.

“Oh… fuck! Oh my god…” Wonwoo gasped shakily, his hand gripping your waist so tightly you wouldn’t be surprised if it was bruised in the morning. You groaned as you clung to his shoulders, itching for him to move already. “You’re so fucking tight… I can feel everything…”

“Wonwoo please…” you all but begged, he took one more deep breath and proceeded to thrust downward, resulting in an obscene moan from the both of you. “Please! Fuck meeee!”

Any semblance of self control remaining in Wonwoo seemed to have snapped at that, as he proceeded to drill you into the mattress furiously until you let out the most animalistic groan either of you had ever heard. It did nothing to quell the fervor in which he rammed into you, if anything causing his passion to escalate tenfold.

“Oh yeah? You fucking like that?” He grunted out, the slapping noises of your bodies meeting making you feel lightheaded. “You like when I fuck you like this? Raw and hard?”

You whined out and nodded exasperatedly, gasping as he paused to lift your legs over his shoulders, grabbing you by the waist to lift and pull your body up into his. A strangled cry escaped at the new angle, his length deliciously hitting you right in the sweet spot as he plunged himself into you full force once again. 

“Tell me you fucking want it.” He panted out, a light sheen of sweat forming on his chest and his eyes locked in on where your bodies were connecting, in and out, in and out. “Tell me you want me to fuck you like this over and over again.”

You screamed as he brought his hand down to play with your clit once more, and you found yourself absolutely overwhelmed by the fact that you were yet again on the brink of orgasming for the third time this morning. 

“Pleaseeee Wonwoo, I want you to fuck meeee!” You begged out, your words pitching up with every thrust he gave. His free hand reached down to play with your breast, your other one bouncing liberally as he proceeded to pound into you.

“You look so fucking hot like this…” He muttered, practically to himself which only fueled the ever growing knot in your stomach. “F-fuck!! I’m gonna—“

“Cum in me, pleaseeee fucking fill me up—“ You cried out, and it was the last thing both of you needed to hear before finally climaxing together.

If your last orgasm was like a free fall, this one was like being hit with a freight train. Wonwoo’s thumb on your clit combined with his last full force thrust shoved you over the edge so hard and fast you swear you stopped breathing for a moment. The added feeling of him filling you up simultaneously was so intoxicating that you swore from then on that you would always let him come inside.

Wonwoo collapsed atop you, panting heavily into your shoulder as you stroked his back, equally as breathless. The aftermath of your body spasms calmed down after a few minutes, your simultaneous heaving settling down into long, deep breaths.

Taking a second to gather some energy, you couldn’t help but wince as Wonwoo pulled himself out slowly and slumped to your side. You nuzzled up to him, throwing your weak limbs around his body and practically melting into the mattress. You heard him exhale loudly.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Wonwoo murmured tenderly, obviously still dazed and reeling. You let out an airy laugh. 

“And now we have all the time in the world.” A cheesy grin grew on his face at your words as he squeezed you tightly, and you’d never felt more comfortable and safe than you felt in his arms at that moment.

“You’re right.” He smiled, gently stroking the back of your head. He ran his fingers through your hair sweetly, kissing your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut and his last words echoed in the distance. 

“And I’m never letting another second with you go to waste.”

[kyros-tha-soldier]

modern AU where Rebecca is the nice sporty athletic girl in the OP highschool who enjoys going to play baseball with her dad every sunday afternoon

also she likes to show off the pearly bracelet her friend Shirahoshi gave her on her birthday and post her pictures with vivi on that random vacation they had together