#sorry this got. away from me. what was i even talking about

[4linos]

they call you clingy pt. 2

ot8 x fem!reader

genre: slight angst. hurt/comfort. fluff. (mostly) happy endings.

wc: 8916

(read they call you clingy pt. 1 first)

bang chan

When Chan returned home later that night, he was overwhelmed with guilt. He expected to be greeted with a warm embrace, maybe even a soft joke about how awkward he had been earlier. But when he entered your shared bedroom, he was greeted with silence. The lights were dark, and you sat on the edge of the bed, back to him. "Y/N?" He called out quietly, almost pleading.

You did not respond.

Chan's heart fell as he got closer, but you flinched when you felt him behind you. He stood there for a while, unsure of what to do, before finally speaking, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say what I said. It was a terrible joke. Please… please look at me.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough for him to see the tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes were red and swollen, and your expression was tight, like you were holding everything in. The sight broke him, and he stepped forward, kneeling in front of you, trying to meet your gaze.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I was frustrated, and I let it all out in the worst way. I’m so sorry, I should’ve never said that. You’re not clingy. I don’t think that at all. I was wrong. I never should’ve made you feel that way.”

You shook your head slowly, your voice cold. “No, you meant it. I heard the way you said it. You don’t want me around. You think I’m suffocating you.”

“I don’t,” Chan whispered urgently, his hands reaching out to touch yours, but you pulled them away. “I don’t think that. I swear. I don’t want you to think that at all. I just… I don’t know what came over me.”

But you didn’t want to hear it. You wanted to believe him, but the words still stung too much. The way he had looked at you with indifference, how he dismissed your presence like it was something burdensome. It wasn’t just the words it was the way it made you feel so small, like you weren’t wanted.

You stood up suddenly, avoiding his touch. “I just need some space, Chan. Please. Just leave me alone tonight.”

Chan flinched, but he didn’t argue. He nodded, his heart breaking as he quietly walked out of the room. He knew he had crossed a line, and the weight of that reality hit him hard. He didn’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning on the couch, feeling the distance between you both like a wall that couldn’t be scaled.

The next morning, Chan woke up early, with his mind still filled with guilt. He'd apologized the night before, but he knew it wasn't enough. He needed to express how sorry he was and how much he cared. He crept quietly into the kitchen and began preparing breakfast, hoping to get it right for once. When the smell of pancakes and coffee filled the apartment, he returned to your bedroom, gently knocked on the door before opening it slightly.

You sat on the side of the bed, looking out the window. Your back was still turned to him, but when you heard him enter, you had stayed still.

Chan took a deep breath, his voice soft. “I made breakfast… for us. Please, can we just eat together? I want to talk.”

You didn't say anything at first, but eventually nodded and stood up, following him into the kitchen. You both sat silently, the tension hanging between you like a cloud. Chan pushed the dish of pancakes toward you, his hands shaking slightly. He took a breath and spoke again, his voice full of earnestness.

"You were not clinging, Y/N. I was wrong. You aren't suffocating me. I adore having you around; I always do. I… I'm not sure why I said that. My frustration clouded my judgment, and I hurt you. I'm really sorry."

You didn’t answer right away, but the tightness in your chest slowly loosened. You looked up at him, seeing the genuine regret in his eyes. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.

You sighed softly, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “It just hurt, Chan. I… I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You’re never a burden,” he said quietly. “You’re my partner. I want you to be with me. Always. You nodded, the words finally sinking in. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have shut you out.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “No, I deserve it. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you both ate in silence, the unspoken understanding between you filling the room with a quiet comfort. The hurt was still there, but you knew you could heal it together.

lee know

The warmth from the burns on your leg persisted, but the coldness in your chest stung the most. You sat on the edge of the bed, carefully placing a cold compress against your skin, hoping that the discomfort sting would ease.

Your mind was racing, trying to figure out what had just transpired in the kitchen. Minho, your Minho, had yelled at you, and the words cut worse than anything physical could. You couldn't understand how it had come to this.

You had tried so hard to help, to lighten his burden, but instead you had made matters worse. The kitchen was a wreck, your leg was on fire, and your heart felt like it had been ripped open by the very person who had always made you feel safe. You wanted to believe it was just a moment of frustration, something that could be forgiven, but the distance between you both felt insurmountable.

When Minho’s voice called from the living room, it felt like the world’s weight pressed on your chest. “Hey... can we talk?" He sounded tired, but there was an undertone of hesitation, as if he wasn’t sure if you’d even listen.

You didn’t respond, hoping the silence would send the message you weren’t ready to face him just yet. But moments later, the sound of his footsteps in the hall brought you back to reality, and before you could register, he was standing in the doorway of your bedroom.

His expression shifted from confusion to panic when he saw you sitting there, the cold compress against your leg, and your tear-streaked face. His eyes widened, a rush of guilt flooding over him.

"What... what happened?" His voice was quieter and more uncertain now. He took a step forward, peering down at the reddening skin on your leg. "I—oh God, did you burn yourself?" His eyes scanned yours for a response, his hand quivering slightly as he reached out to touch your leg. You didn't say anything. You couldn’t find the words. The burn hurt badly, but the heaviness of his words in the kitchen made it intolerable.

Minho's hands shook as he gently led you to lie down on the bed. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" His voice cracked slightly as he rubbed a cool cloth on the burns, the chill alleviating the sting slightly.

You finally let yourself to cry, tears rocking your chest and the emotional weight coming down on you. You didn't understand how much you were holding back until the tears started pouring freely. "I-I'm sorry for the soup," you said through sobbing. "I didn't mean to ruin everything. "I just... wanted to help."

Minho's face softened, expressing regret and disbelief. He wiped your tears away with his thumb, his voice barely audible. "Stop. I don't care about the soup. Not when you're hurt. "Why didn't you tell me you were in pain?"

His words felt like a balm to your wounded heart, but they didn’t erase the ache. You buried your face in his chest as he leaned down to kiss your forehead gently, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m so sorry for what I said. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You don’t deserve that... you never deserve that.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten even more. You clung to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, needing his warmth, his presence. “Minho... I just—everything went wrong today. And then you... you made me feel like I was a burden.” Your voice trembled, and the weight of your emotions finally broke free.

Minho’s arms tightened around you as he whispered into your hair, “I never meant to make you feel that way. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. But you are not a burden. You never will be. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You could feel his hands softly comb through your hair, comforting you as you kept crying into him. The tears weren't simply over the soup, the burn, or the day's failures. It was all about trying to keep things together, to be strong, and not show how overwhelmed you were. And everything came tumbling down in his arms. "I should have been there for you today." "I should have seen how much you were struggling," Minho said, his voice thick with regret. "I'm not upset at you. I should never have said that. I'm so sorry."

You nodded into his chest, the tears slowly subsiding as his comforting words washed over you. Despite everything, despite the mess and the hurt, there was still love between you two, even if it was lost in the chaos for a moment.

“I love you,” Minho whispered, his hand gently wiping away the last of your tears. “Please, forgive me.”

You pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes. There was nothing but tenderness there now, no trace of the frustration that had clouded his expression before. “I love you too,” you said, your voice still shaky, but steadying. “I know you didn’t mean it. I just... I just had such a bad day. Everything went wrong, and I was just trying to fix it... and I ended up making it worse.”

Minho kissed your forehead again, his lips lingering for a moment. “You don’t have to fix everything. You don’t have to carry it all alone. I’m here. I’ll always be here. Let me help you.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief settle over you as his arms wrapped around you again. “I’m sorry, too,” you whispered, hugging him tighter. “I just... I wanted to help you. To make it better. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

“I know,” Minho whispered back. “And you didn’t make it worse. I promise.”

As the silence between you two grew, the storm within you began to calm. It wasn't entirely mended yet, but for the first time that day, you felt like you weren't going through it alone. You felt at ease in his embrace, and you gradually began to hope that things can get better again.

changbin

Changbin's breath came out in weak, raspy gasps as he stood there watching you walk away. Every instinct in his body shouted for him to go after you, to draw you back and explain himself, but something in the air held him still. The severity of his own words resonated in his thoughts, a jarring reminder of the damage he had just done. You were hurt. And now, so was he.

He watched as your form disappeared through the exit, the door closing softly behind you. The gym suddenly felt suffocating. The weight of his own anger and frustration, which he had not yet fully comprehended, seemed to settle in his chest like a stone. He turned over, and his face flushed, his head dizzy with regret. He never wanted to make you feel like this, never wanted you to feel like a burden. His mind was spinning with confusion, but one thing was painfully clear: he had messed up. Badly.

He stood there for a long time, eyes fixed on the door, as if begging you to return, but he knew it was pointless. He had said too much. The damage was done.

You'd never felt smaller than you did at that time. Changbin's words felt like a hefty blow to the chest, knocking the air out of you. You weren't expecting him to snap. Sure, he'd been distant before, but this was different. The sharpness in his voice, the way he stared at you with irritation and anger, hurt in ways you couldn't articulate.

You didn’t know how long you had been walking for when you found yourself in the parking lot, your car now looming in front of you like a silent reminder of what had just transpired. You stood there for a moment, your hands trembling as you fumbled to unlock the door. The cold night air bit at your skin, but the chill in your chest felt much worse.

Why was he so angry?

You understood that sometimes people needed space, but you had no idea that your presence, which you expected to bring you closer, would make him feel overwhelmed. The realization hit you hard: He had been letting you to follow him about because he didn't know how to express his need for space. And, in the end, when he exploded, it broke the fragile link you had formed with him.

Your eyes stung with the promise of tears, but you pushed them away. You weren't sure if you were ready to let them fall yet.

You got in the car and drove aimlessly at first, wanting to get away and clear your mind. The drive seemed to go on forever, but you couldn't escape the agony in your chest. You eventually pulled over onto a quiet street and parked. You allowed the silence to settle in, the only sound being the faint hum of your car's engine.

Your phone buzzed, and you looked at it nervously. It was a message from Changbin. Your finger hovered over the screen, unsure whether to open it or not. But the yearning for an explanation, some attempt to make sense of it all, was overwhelming. So you opened it.

Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted. Can we please talk?

You bit your lip, your eyes scanning the words over and over. His apology felt sincere, but it didn’t erase the sting of what he had said. How could it? And yet, a part of you still wanted to hear him out, to understand where he was coming from, even if it hurt.

You debated texting him back. Part of you wanted to ignore him, to hold onto the distance you felt was needed right now. Another part wanted to reach out, to explain that you weren’t trying to smother him, that you just wanted to be close.

Instead of responding, you did the one thing you never thought you’d do: you called him.

The phone rang a few times before he answered. “Y/N?” His voice was soft, hesitant, almost nervous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Can we talk?”

A long silence passed. You could hear him take a deep breath on the other end. “Yeah. I think we need to.”

-

Back at the gym, Changbin had barely managed to collect himself before his phone buzzed in his hand. When he saw your name on the screen, he almost couldn’t believe it. He had messed up so badly, and yet, you were still willing to talk to him. His heart beat faster as he swiped to answer, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.

“Y/N?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t imagining this.

“I… I’m still upset, Bin,” you said, your voice shaky. “I don’t know what to think. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was invading your space. I just… I wanted to be close to you.”

“I know,” he whispered, guilt flooding his chest. “I should’ve told you sooner. It’s not your fault. I don’t want you to feel like that… like I’m pushing you away. But I just… the gym was the one place where I could just be by myself, clear my head. And when I didn’t have that anymore… I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “I didn’t know. I thought… I thought you’d like it. That maybe it would be something we could do together.”

“I do like spending time with you,” he said, his voice steady now, more sincere. “I really do. But I didn’t realize how much I was taking it out on you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I’m sorry for how I said it. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. You’re not a burden to me, Y/N. You’re the last person I want to hurt.”

You closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself. “I just wanted to be close to you. I didn’t realize I was making you feel suffocated.” There was a long pause before he spoke again. “I know. And I should’ve communicated better. I just didn’t know how.”

“I understand,” you replied softly. “I just… I need a little time. To process this.”

Changbin’s heart sank, but he understood. “Yeah. I get that. Take the time you need. But please know I’m here. I don’t want to lose you over something that should’ve been a misunderstanding.”

You inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the conversation. It wasn’t fixed, not yet, but you could feel the tension easing a little, the sharp edges of the pain starting to soften.

“Okay,” you said quietly. “We’ll talk more when I’m ready.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Changbin replied, his voice full of warmth despite the distance between you. “I’ll be here.”

The call ended, leaving a quiet, uneasy space between you two. You were unsure where this would lead or what would happen next. But perhaps, just maybe, you can find your way back together.

hyunjin

The next morning, you woke to a cloud of confusion still hanging over you. Hyunjin's remark from last night, as well as the way he pushed you away, played on an unending loop in your memory. The hurt was still fresh, but you were beginning to wonder why. Why had everything changed so dramatically? Why had Hyunjin, who you had always trusted, suddenly become distant?

You'd barely slept, your mind knotted in a web of despair, confusion, and betrayal. Everything seemed odd as you tried to get through the day. The calm hum of your daily routine had been replaced by a heavy silence in your chest. Your phone remained silent, and you weren't sure if that was a relief or something else entirely. You couldn’t decide whether to hope Hyunjin would reach out to explain himself or whether it was better to just forget it all.

But then, in the late afternoon, your phone buzzed. It was a text from him.

Hyunjin: Can we talk? I need to explain.

Your stomach twisted, both nervous and cautious. You stared at the message, weighing the possibility of opening the door to this conversation. You didn’t know if you were ready to hear whatever he had to say. Still, part of you needed answers, even if they were painful.

After a few moments of hesitation, you typed back.

You: Where?

Hyunjin: Meet me at the park in 30 minutes. Please.

You took a deep breath and, despite everything, found yourself getting ready to meet him. Part of you was angry, but there was another part, the part that still missed him, that needed to understand. You had always believed in the strength of your friendship. You didn’t want to just throw that away without knowing what had really happened.

When you arrived at the park, the air felt cool against your skin, and the trees around you swayed gently in the breeze. The park was quiet, mostly empty, with only a few scattered joggers. You found him near a bench, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his posture tense. He stood as soon as he saw you, but neither of you moved closer at first. There was an awkwardness between you two that felt thick enough to cut.

“Hyunjin,” you said softly, your voice almost faltering. "You wanted to talk?"

He nodded but didn’t say anything right away. He just stood there, staring at you as if he wasn’t sure how to start. Finally, after a long pause, he exhaled sharply and took a step closer.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice low and unsure. "I know I hurt you last night, and I—I need you to know that wasn’t my intention. I’ve been… I’ve been a mess, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I don’t know how to deal with these feelings.”

You furrowed your brows, the confusion growing. “Feelings? What are you talking about?”

Hyunjin seemed to hesitate, as if he was unsure whether to voice the words out. But after a moment, he added, his voice breaking slightly: "I—I like you. More than just a friend. I had for a while, but I wasn't sure how to deal with it. So I tried pushing you away. I figured if I detached myself from you, it would go away. That I could let go of these feelings."

The words struck you like a thunderclap. For a while, you just stood there, your mind spinning, trying to make sense of what he had just revealed. Hyunjin... liked you? Was it why he had been so distant? All the time you'd spent wondering what had changed, what had gone wrong… it was this?

He looked at you, his eyes full of vulnerability, guilt, and something else that you couldn’t quite name. “I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I thought… if I pushed you away, I could just forget. But the more I tried to ignore it, the worse it got. And last night, I just… I didn’t know how to act around you anymore. So I lashed out. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You stood there, silently absorbing his words. The knot in your chest relaxed, but it was replaced by something else: a rush of feelings you couldn't quite describe.

You had no idea how to handle this revelation. You had been wondering what had happened to your friendship, why things seemed so tense, and now it all made sense. But it was overwhelming. You never saw it coming.

"I don't know what to say," you confessed gently. "I did not..." I didn't realize you felt that way. All I saw was you slipping away, and I wondered if I had done something wrong. I didn't realize it was about this."

“I should have told you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I was so afraid of ruining everything, of losing our friendship. But instead, I ended up pushing you away. I thought if I could stop being close to you, I could stop feeling this way. I was wrong."

You felt a mixture of emotions rise up relief, anger, sadness, confusion. But beneath it all, there was something else: you understood now. He had been trying to protect himself, even if it meant hurting you in the process. It didn’t make his actions right, but it made them a little easier to comprehend.

“So what now?” you asked, your voice softer than before.

Hyunjin took a step closer, his gaze intense. "I don’t expect things to go back to how they were immediately. I don’t know how to fix this. But I want to try. I want to be honest with you now. If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. But I couldn’t keep pretending anymore. I couldn’t let you think you didn’t matter."

You paused for a long moment, the weight of his words sinking in. Part of you still felt hurt, but another part of you your heart, maybe was softening. You had always cared about him. The idea of more than just friendship… it was a lot to process, but you realized that in some way, you were willing to listen, to figure out what this meant for the two of you.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” you said, finally meeting his gaze. “But I’m not going to lie and say I don’t care. I do. I care a lot. We just need time. To figure this out.”

Hyunjin nodded, his eyes filled with a quiet hope. “I’ll give you time. I won’t push you. I just needed to say it. To be honest.”

The two of you stood there for a while, neither of you moving, but there was a shift a change in the air. For the first time in weeks, it felt like there might be a way forward. Maybe it wasn’t simple, maybe it wasn’t easy, but at least you had the truth. And that, you realized, was enough to begin again.

HAN

The silence lingered for what seemed like hours, the kind of silence that enveloped you both like a thick cloud. You hadn't moved, still curled on the bed, eyes locked on the wall, as if it might give some answers. You couldn't get the idea that something inside of him had permanently shifted, that whatever had cracked tonight had been building up for a time and was now beyond your control.

Jisung said nothing, did not try to pull you closer, nor did he give his usual soothing words of regret. But he had not left either. His presence next to you, despite its normal comfort, suddenly felt like a distant recollection, a piece of him that had vanished.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you heard him shift on the bed beside you. His voice was barely a whisper, but you could tell he was struggling, his words thick with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you could hear the weight of the apology, like he had been holding it back for so long it had become a raw, painful thing.

You stayed silent, not sure what to say. He had hurt you, and though you wanted to forgive him, you couldn’t shake the sting of his words. His harshness had cut deeper than anything he’d said before, and you weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion of the day, or something more, something that had been building up between you two for a while.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N,” he continued, his voice shaky, as if the apology itself had become difficult to express. “I’m just… I’m just tired. I don’t know how to deal with everything. But that doesn’t excuse how I snapped at you. You don’t deserve that. You never do.”

You eventually allowed yourself to turn towards him, your gaze scanning his face, and you saw the weakness there, the same vulnerability you had always seen beneath his normal confidence. His fists were clasped in his lap, and his shoulders bowed, as if he were bracing for the impending storm.

"You are not a burden, Y/N." "You're not clingy," he continued quietly, his voice much lower now, as if the apology was gradually peeling away the layers of irritation and hurt. "I just.. I'm not always sure how to let you in. I am so overwhelmed that instead of accepting your help, I push you away."

Your heart squeezed. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was battling with himself, trying to figure out how to make it right without knowing how.

“I’ve been so used to dealing with everything on my own,” he continued, looking at the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. “I didn’t want to burden you with my problems. I didn’t want you to see me as weak. But instead, I ended up hurting you.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and it took everything in you not to reach out and wrap your arms around him. You knew he had been struggling, you knew it. But hearing him admit that he had been keeping things from you, afraid of showing his true self, only made the ache in your chest grow.

“I don’t think you’re weak,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. “I think you're strong. But you don’t have to do everything by yourself, Jisung. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

He shook his head, eventually meeting your eyes. His eyes were filled with sadness, but there was also a quiet desperation in them, as if he didn't know how to mend the rift between you two.

“I just... I'm so sorry. I don't know how to ask for help," he said, his voice full with sorrow. "But when you try to help me, I... I push you away because I'm not sure how to let you in. But you aren't a burden, Y/N. You have never been one. I just didn't know how to handle anything on my own, so I ended up pushing you away when all you wanted was to be there for me."

The honesty in his words was almost too much to bear. You had always known Jisung to be someone who wore his heart on his sleeve, someone who could make light of even the darkest situations. But now, seeing him like this, so raw and open, made your chest tighten.

“I don’t want you to push me away anymore,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to help you. But I can’t help you if you keep shutting me out.”

Jisung's lips twitched, as if he wanted to say more but couldn't find the right words. Instead, he simply nodded, the impact of his quiet screaming loudly. He didn't need to say anything else because you could feel the pain in his chest and all the frustration he'd been carrying around for too long.

For a long time, the two of you merely sat there, your quiet now distinct. It wasn't the crushing stillness of earlier, but one filled with empathy, even if neither of you understood exactly how to mend anything.

After a while, Jisung reached out, his hand hesitating before softly stroking your arm. The warmth of his fingers across your skin brought back memories of how simple things had been between you two. He didn't say anything unnecessary, but you could sense his apology in the way he held his hand there, letting you know he was sincerely sorry.

"I'll try to do better," he answered simply and softly. "I will try to let you in more. I do not want to push you away anymore."

You nodded, your heart still heavy but not as broken as it had been moments ago. “I just want to be there for you, Jisung,” you said softly. “I don’t want you to have to go through everything alone.”

The quiet stretched again, but this time, it felt different. It felt like a beginning. Neither of you knew how to fix everything right away, but you both knew that you wanted to try. And sometimes, that was enough.

Jisung shifted closer, his hand still resting on your arm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel so distant from each other. There were still things left unsaid, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that you were both here, both willing to try again.

felix

The hours passed by in agonizing silence, the kind that made everything seem more impossible than it actually was and stretched and clawed at your thoughts. Nothing could take away the icy emptiness that had descended between you and Felix, even as you lay there, wrapped up inside yourself, listening to the gentle buzz of the night.

When the world got too much, he would wrap up with you and reassure you with soft touches and quiet words. You recalled the warmth you had previously enjoyed. Now, it felt like a lifetime ago. His distance was more than just physical; it was something that made your chest hurt since you didn't know how to make it better.

But as much as you wanted to lie there, to let the hurt consume you, you couldn't. You couldn't just wait and wonder if things would somehow improve on their own. You were the kind of person who needed closure, who needed to understand what was happening. And right now, Felix was slipping through your fingers, and you didn’t know how to stop it.

You sat up, wiping at your tear-streaked face, and glanced towards the living room. The faint glow from the TV still flickered through the hallway, casting a cold light on the darkness of the apartment. You could feel the weight of the choice pressing down on you: Should you leave him be, give him the space he seemed to want, or should you push through, confront him, and demand answers?

You hesitated for quite some time. But then you made a decision. You needed answers. You needed to understand why the person you loved had abruptly shifted into someone you didn't recognize. You moved along the hallway, the apartment's silence more oppressive than before.

Felix kept his position on the couch, his eyes looking blankly at the TV, his posture tight and walled off. You stayed there for a moment, studying him, trying to determine whether he noticed your presence.

His eyes didn’t leave the screen. His face remained unreadable.

"Felix," you said again, your voice steady but laced with emotion. This time, there was no hesitation in your tone, no softness. You needed him to hear you.

He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel the tension in the room shift slightly, as if he knew you were waiting for him to say something. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, quieter than before.

“I told you I don’t want to talk,” he said, almost in a whisper. But this time, the words weren’t as sharp. There was something else in his voice, something you hadn’t heard before. It wasn’t anger, but a deep exhaustion, a weariness that seemed to go beyond just physical fatigue.

You didn’t take a step back this time. Instead, you closed the distance between you, sitting on the arm of the couch, your hand brushing lightly against his. It was small, a gesture that once would have meant nothing, but now it felt like everything. You needed him to know you were still here, that you hadn’t given up.

“Felix,” you repeated, softer this time, your voice trembling with vulnerability. “I know something’s bothering you. And I get it. You don’t have to talk right now, if you’re not ready. But I need to know—am I the problem?”

When you asked the question, his head snapped towards you, his eyes wide with amazement, as if he had never considered it before. For a brief moment, his gaze softened, and you thought you caught a glimpse of the old Felix, the one who used to share everything with you, the one who would always turn to you when the world got too much.

"Of course not," he said gently, his voice husky. He took a deep breath and wiped his face with his palms before running them through his hair. "You aren't the problem. "I just...I’m a mess right now, okay? I did not mean to push you away. I didn't know how to deal with it, and I thought if I could draw back, maybe it would get better.”

His words hung in the air, and for the first time in what felt like days, you understood. Felix had always been the strong one, the person who seemed so capable of handling everything on his own. But now you saw how much he was struggling beneath the surface, how much he had been hiding.

"You don’t have to carry it all alone," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "Felix, we’ve always been a team. You can lean on me. You don’t have to push me away just because you’re having a hard time."

He was silent for a long moment, his gaze flickering to the floor, then back up to you. The tension in his shoulders finally seemed to ease, and he let out a long breath. It was as though a weight was slowly lifting, and for the first time in days, you saw a glimpse of the Felix you had known and loved.

“I’m scared,” he admitted softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m scared of being a burden. I’m scared that if I show you how much I’m struggling, you’ll leave. I’m scared you won’t love me if I’m not always the one who has everything together.”

The rawness of his confession hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you just sat there, your heart aching for him. You had always known Felix to be strong, but in this moment, you realized just how vulnerable he was beneath it all, and how much he had been carrying alone.

“You don’t have to be perfect for me, Felix,” you said, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat. “I love you, all of you—the good, the bad, and everything in between. You don’t have to be anything but yourself.”

Felix finally looked at you, his eyes wide, his expression almost disbelieving. The walls that had been built up around him seemed to crack ever so slightly, and you could see the relief in his eyes. He swallowed hard, then reached out, taking your hand in his.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his grip tightening around your fingers. “I’ve been pushing you away for no reason. I was just so scared.”

You shook your head gently, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, Felix. You don’t have to be scared. We’ll get through this together.”

For a minute, you just stood there, the two of you having an unsaid understanding. There was still a lot to sort out, and the path ahead would be difficult, but you knew that if you were both ready to try, you could do it.

As Felix drew in closer, resting his forehead against yours, you felt the warmth of his presence return, as well as the relief that you hadn't lost him despite everything. Not yet.

And for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to believe that things could be better.

seungmin

The morning light filtered softly through the kitchen windows, casting a dull glow over the room. Seungmin walked in, a faint sigh escaping his lips as he poured himself a cup of coffee, his mind still half-occupied by the rehearsals and everything waiting for him outside the walls of this apartment. But as he sat down at the breakfast table, he was immediately hit with an unexpected shift in the air.

There was no cheerful greeting from you, no attempt to share a quiet moment together before the day began. Instead, you sat across from him, silently eating your breakfast, your gaze fixed on the plate in front of you. Usually, you’d be making something small, even if it was just a quick toast or coffee, a gesture that made mornings feel connected. But today, the stillness felt suffocating.

Seungmin frowned, the weight of the silence pressing down on him. He didn’t quite understand why you weren’t speaking, but he knew something wasn’t right. He set his cup down, meeting your eyes for the briefest of moments before his voice broke through the quiet.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his tone a bit strained, not sure if he was even ready to hear the answer.

You did not respond immediately away, keeping your gaze fixed on your food and your jaw tight as if the words you wanted to say were locked between your teeth. But they didn't come, and your silence spoke louder than any argument. Seungmin waited, his patience dwindling as time passed.

Finally, you scoffed, making a little but harsh sound that seemed to cut through the air, and you stood up from the table, pushing your chair back with an audible scrape.

"I don’t know, Seungmin," you shot back, your voice tinged with frustration, barely holding back the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "Maybe I’m just tired of feeling like I don’t matter to you."

He blinked, taken aback by the intensity of your words. Before he could respond, you stormed off, the door to the bedroom slamming shut behind you with a force that rattled the still air. Seungmin sat there, the taste of the bitter coffee suddenly unfamiliar in his mouth, his mind spinning. He hadn’t expected this. Not after everything that had happened last night.

The rest of the day felt like a blur. He went through the motions work, meetings, rehearsals but your words lingered in his mind, a constant hum of unease. By the time he returned home that evening, the tension was unbearable. He hesitated by the front door, unsure of what to expect. Normally, he would have found you sitting on the couch, or you would have greeted him with a small smile, asking about his day. But tonight, there was only silence.

He walked into the apartment, his footsteps faltering slightly as he noticed you in the corner of the living room, avoiding his gaze completely. You sat curled up on the couch, eyes fixed on the television but not really seeing anything at all. He stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of you, and the hollow feeling in his chest deepened.

"Can we talk?" he asked carefully, his voice laced with concern. His eyes searched yours for any sign that you were ready to listen.

You didn't respond immediately, your body rigid and remote. His heart fell as he saw the look on your face, as if a part of you had closed off, trapped behind a door he couldn't open. "Please," he said, getting closer. "I don't know what's going on, but..." "I can't fix this unless you tell me."

You snapped your head up, your eyes burning with a mix of pain and frustration. Your voice was more emotional than usual. "You don't get it, do you, Seungmin?" You stood up abruptly, raising your voice with each word. "I have tried. I've been trying for days to get you to come see me and realize that something is wrong! But all you have done is brush me off, make me feel like I’m too much for you, like I’m just… clingy."

His eyes widened in realization, the words you had uttered earlier in the morning returning to him with a crushing force. He had no idea it had gotten this bad, nor did he realize how much his words had hurt you until now. And it stung when the weight of his own stupidity fell on him. You carried on, your voice cracking as you talked.

"You've been really distant, Seungmin. And when I try to talk to you or look for your attention, you just push me away. You make me feel as though I am a burden. And I can't keep pretending that I don't feel it.”

Seungmin opened his mouth, but no words came out. He stood there, completely stunned, his chest tightening with regret. He had been so wrapped up in his own stress and exhaustion, so focused on his own battles, that he hadn’t realized how far apart you had grown, how much pain you had been quietly carrying.

He swallowed hard, stepping closer, his voice small now, barely a whisper. "I never meant to make you feel that way. I… I didn’t realize how much my actions were hurting you."

But your anger had already started to bubble back up. You shook your head, arms crossed tightly against your chest. "How could you not realize, Seungmin? How could you not see how much I’m struggling with this? I needed you, but you’ve been so… so cold." You paused, your breath shallow. "I needed you to care. To see me."

The words stung like salt in an open wound, but Seungmin couldn’t deny the truth in them. His heart clenched, and without thinking, he moved toward you, pulling you into his arms before you could step away.

"I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I didn’t mean to make you feel invisible, or like you were too much. I’ve been so caught up in everything that I forgot to see you, to notice what I was doing to us." He held you tighter, his grip desperate now, like he was trying to hold onto something he feared was slipping away. "Please forgive me. I don’t want to lose you."

Your body trembled against him, but for the first time in what felt like ages, you didn’t pull away. You rested your forehead against his chest, letting out a shaky breath, your emotions swirling but slowly softening under his touch.

"I just need you to be present, Seungmin," you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. "I need to know that you’re here with me. That I matter to you."

"I hear you," he whispered softly, gently touching your face and lifting your head to meet his gaze. His embrace was raw and vulnerable in a way you had not seen before. "I hear you, and I promise to do better." I will make you feel seen. I will make sure you understand how much you mean to me."

You nodded softly, your heart aching but glad for his genuine remarks. The path to healing would take time, but for the first time in a long time, you felt confident that he would accompany you on it.

I.N

The next day, Jeongin arrived at your apartment, his normal bright smile on his face as he walked through the door. It was as if yesterday had never happened. His aura was light and carefree, as if he hadn't just disrupted the peace you had previously enjoyed in your relationship.

You, on the other hand, were still reeling from his cold demeanor the night before. The hurt persisted, and you couldn't shake the weight of his words. Stop being so clingy. It wasn't the first time someone had made you feel small, but it hurt more than you expected, especially coming from him.

You didn't answer as usual, and you didn't greet him with the warmth he had grown to expect. Instead, you kept your distance by giving him short, clipped answers. You preoccupied yourself with little things in the apartment, refusing to make eye contact in the hopes that the stillness would bridge the gap between you. The tension in the room, however, was palpable.

Jeongin didn't seem to notice right away. He went about his usual business, jokingly discussing his day and laughing as if everything was alright. When he reached for your hand, you automatically pushed it away, indicating that something was wrong. His smile faltered, and the warmth in his eyes was gradually replaced by confusion.

"Hey," he said, voice soft, the smile still not fully gone but now laced with a hint of concern. "What's wrong?"

You looked up at him, saw the real confusion in his eyes, and almost let it go. Almost let go of your pain for his smile, for the Jeongin you adored. But the words you'd been keeping in all day sprang to the surface. "What was that yesterday?" You snapped, your voice filled with emotion. The anger, hurt, and confusion you'd been harboring all night had finally bubbled over. "You were an entirely different person. One minute you were fine the next you were pushing me away, telling me I was too clingy. What was that?"

Jeongin blinked, taken aback by your strong tone, his eyes wide as if he had not expected such an outburst. His posture tensed, and for a brief period, you could see the walls he had built to protect himself from whatever discomfort was brewing inside. But that didn't erase the fact that his actions had harmed you more than he knew.

"If you want to act like that, maybe we should just break up," you muttered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, a mix of hurt and frustration in your voice. "I don't want to be with someone who suddenly treats me like I'm a burden just because they're worried about what others think.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Jeongin’s expression faltered, his brows furrowing as if the idea of you breaking up was the last thing he expected. His eyes softened slightly, and his voice became almost breathless as he spoke, not quite believing what you’d just said.

“Wait… what?” His voice wavered, the hurt in his eyes clear now. "No, no, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to hurt you."

You crossed your arms, feeling the burn of frustration building again. You needed answers. “Then what was it, Jeongin? Why did you act like that? I thought we were fine, but now… now I don’t know where I stand with you.”

He exhaled shakily, his hands running through his hair as he paced for a moment, clearly struggling to find the right words. After a beat of silence, he stopped in front of you, meeting your eyes, this time with a vulnerability that was both unexpected and painfully familiar.

“I… I love you," he began, his voice steady but filled with an edge of fear. "I love you so much, but I was afraid… I was afraid that if we showed too much PDA, the members would tease me relentlessly. They’re always joking about stuff like that, and I didn’t want them to make fun of me, of us."

The explanation hung in the air, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, stunned. Was this actually the reason? Was he so concerned about what his members thought that he distanced himself from you, his girlfriend, in front of them? You struggled to wrap your head around it.

"Are you embarrassed of me?" The question fell out of your mouth before you could think. The thought of it twisted something inside you, the possibility that he might consider you as something to hide rather than something to be proud of.

Jeongin’s face immediately morphed into one of panic, as if the very suggestion cut him deeper than anything you could have said. “No! God, no. I would never—” He stepped forward, his hands reaching for you, but you instinctively took a small step back. He stopped, his hands falling to his sides, the hurt in his eyes obvious now.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of his confession hanging between you two. "I never meant for you to feel like that. I just… I just didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t want the members to think I was soft or that I couldn’t keep my cool. But I was wrong. I was so wrong. I’m sorry for pushing you away, for making you feel like I didn’t care about you."

His words were a mix of regret and sincerity, and as he spoke, you could feel the depth of his struggle, the dread of being judged and ridiculed that kept him from completely being himself with you. It wasn't that he didn't love you; it was just that he hadn't understood how to balance his feelings with the demands of his life.

You stood there, silent for a moment, contemplating what he had just said. Your heart was still raw, but you could see remorse in his eyes and feel it in the way he stood, as if he was waiting for you to decide what to do next.

Finally, you spoke, your voice quieter than before, but the hurt remained beneath the surface. "I don't care what others say, Jeongin. I care about us. I want to be able to express my love for you without having to worry about what others might say."

He nodded quickly, his stare focused, and took a slight step toward you. "I promise I won't do it again. I will never make you feel that you are too much, or that I am embarrassed by you. You are more than just someone I care about; you are someone I am proud of. And I will do better. I will."

You held onto his gaze, seeing the honesty in his eyes and sensing the truth in his words. It was not a simple fix. There was work to be done and trust to be rebuilt, but you could tell right away that he was eager to give it his all.

"I just need you to be honest with me," you muttered, feeling the tension between you begin to ease. "That's all I want."

Jeongin's expression softened as he made one final step forward, closing the gap between you. His hands met yours, and his contact was warm and grounded. "I'm here. I'm actually here. And I will make sure you never feel that way again."

//

(❌ proofread)

masterlist.

[snakesafraidtodie]

Danny stops mid rant once he realizes that Bruce Wayne is looking at him like he's crazy. "Ehh... never mind. It's just been a rough week. Ignore everything that I said. Obviously I'm alive. I'm just... uh, saying what my parents expect I'd say. Because they think I'm dead."

"You're used to indulging their delusions." Bruce stated, more than asked.

Danny sighed. "Look. I'm really sorry about them. But did you have to publish the name of the dead boy you thought was your son? Even if it's not me, that's gotta be some sort of privacy violation. Did you get permission from the family of the dead Danny?"

"...I'm sorry, I don't know how the body's identity got released to the press." Bruce had a genuine look of guilt on his face. "But you're right. That information should never have hit the news."

"Well, I guess it's not your fault then." Danny shrugged. "Um. This is a long shot, but do you know how to get in contact with Batman?"

"..."

"It's just, now that they're convinced you have my body- my parents... are kinda single-minded? And I wouldn't put B&E to steal what they think is the remains of their son past them. So. I wanna talk to Batman. To discuss how best to handle their brand of... them-ness. They're a lot, but they're good people! And they're grieving me, as misplaced as it is."

--------

The Fentons want a dead body that doesn't exist.

The Waynes want to keep their cover and not blow their identities. (No, Tim. You are not allowed to clone Daniel to make a fake corpse for his parents.)

Danny wants his parents to accept that he's both dead and alive and stop harassing a rich fruitloop for the corpse of a rando kid he mistook for his son. And he'd like to get that without having to out his identity to more people, but at this point it seems unlikely.

So.

When Bruce Wayne agreed to set up a meeting for him with Batman, Danny decided to tell the truth. Because who could he trust with it if not a fellow hero?

------

Ok. Batman was way more intimidating in person. The mass of shadows stared him down. Danny didn't know how to break the silence.

Luckily the Dark Knight took mercy. "Wayne told me you wanted to discuss your parents' potential future actions."

"R-right. Um. Yeah. Ok." Danny took a deep breath to quit his rambling and get to the point. "So. Some background info. Mom and Dad are ecto-biologists and ghost hunters. They spent their career inventing tech that runs on ectoplasm and publishing papers on the evils of post-human-consciousness. Their magnum opus was a portal to a theoretical dimension of ecto and ghosts. They built it in our basement. And."

Danny let the rings of transformation form. He began to float and at Batman's tensing, crossed his arms and legs to appear smaller. He looked away. "It killed me. Kinda. I am dead, but not. I'm a ghost, but I'm alive. I didn't tell them when it happened. They're ghost hunters, y'know? I grew up hearing the evils of my kind. But then the other Danny Fenton was announced dead, and they figured I was a ghost anyway."

Danny set his feet on the ground and turned human. "So I told them the truth, that I'm both, that I've been protecting Amity from the ghosts coming through the portal as the hero Phantom. But. Well, I don't know how much Mr. Wayne told you, but they're convinced I'm fully dead. They want me to move on. That's why they want the body."

Danny clutched at his hair in frustration. "And. I can't convince them otherwise! I don't- this reveal is already going so much better than I could've hoped. They're already rethinking their 'all ghosts are evil' stance. But. I can't keep living with them. They think I'm DEAD, Batman! That I'm haunting them or something. I can't do that to them! I can't make them believe me-!"

Large hands wrapped around Danny's own to gently uncurl the fingers fisted in his hair. "What do you need, Danny?"

Danny sniffed. His hands still held in Batman's own, Danny ducked his head, turning to self consciously wipe his face on his sleeve. "I don't know." He said in a tiny voice. "I want them to get better."

"..."

"Everyone always said they were mad scientists, growing up. I- I don't want them to- to end up at Arkham. But I can't convince them anymore. They need, like, a professional. But it will only work if the professional knows what's actually going on, and that means revealing my secret identity to more people, end even if there is someone trustworthy, I'll still need someplace to stay while we're doing this fucked up supernatural family therapy. So maybe I just gotta... fake my death. Let them move on. Wayne can tell them the other Danny got cremated already or something. And I'll... go... somewhere."

Danny pulled his hands out of Batman's grasp and stood up straight. "Yeah. Ok. Batman, will you help put Danny Fenton to rest once and for all?"

It's a Terrible Cover Story, Really :/

DP x DC AU where, when trying to make a cover story for why Jason is suddenly legally alive again, Bruce (and the rest of the fam) come up with a story that they had found the body of a child that looked just like 15 year old Jason after he had gone missing and went straight into greif stricken panic and assumed to worst! Jason had come back to them later (let's say he's 22/23 here) after recovering from amnesia, and DNA tests confirmed it's him. They claim they exhumed the body and had the DNA tested and it came back (and they make this name up, completely believing that, since enough people have similar names, this won't come back to bite them) as Danny Fenton.

It's plastered all over the news and it makes it's way back to Jack and Maddie fast: who are now completely convinced their son died on a breif trip they took to Gotham 7 years ago and came back as a ghost who just didn't know he was dead. When they try to bring up the topic with Danny, as gently as they could, they wind up learning that he's Phantom and start to think it's a split personality type deal. One is their son trying to greave his own death and failing because he thinks he's still alive, and the other is their son trying to live up to them as ghost hunters and trying to be the hero his kid self must have thought they were. They're torn up and grief stricken and try contacting Bruce about retrieving their sons body.

Bruce is freaking out because he thinks he just convinced people who may have been looking for their son for years that their kid is dead (and maybe he is! Oh god!) And Amity Park nonsense is keeping him from finding anything about the (half) living Danny, now attending community college.

Jack and Maddie are freaking out because they don't want to let go of their son, but also this can't be healthy for any of them or for Danny's soul, he needs to move on and they need time to rethink everything they've ever thought about ghosts to grieve.

And Danny's freaking out because he thinks Brucie Wayne, ditz extraordinaire (unless his kids are involved), clueless to a fault, Brucie, somehow figured out he was a ghost and outed him to his parents???? Not cool man!

[nomie-11]

I Miss You, I'm Sorry

masterlist! | read part 1 here!

synopsis: vi breaks you out of the prison she puts you in, but sometimes apologizes aren’t enough on their own

pairing: vi x reader

Stillwater Prison was hell. 

It was cold, dark, and lonely. No sounds penetrated the walls this deep in the prison, and no one talked to you unless they were talking to you with a stick in their hands ready to teach you a lesson. 

That’s what you thought was going to happen when the familiar sound of a pair of heavy boots hitting the hard ground of the hallway echoed down the cell block they were holding you in. You didn’t even make an effort to go to the cell bars to see who it was anymore, it would be foolish to hope for anyone but the warden at this point—you had heard echoes of an outbreak not too long ago, Jinx and Sevika had broken out half of Zaun from Stillwater, but you were too far deep into the prison for them to even try to reach you, if they had. 

You stayed slumped against the cold wall, arms draped over your knees, head resting against them as the sound of boots grew louder. It wasn't until they stopped directly in front of your cell that something about the cadence made your ears perk. Hesitant. Familiar. 

The silence lingered, heavy and tense, before a voice you thought you’d never hear again cut through it like a knife. 

“Y/n.”

Your head snapped up, heart twisting painfully in your chest. You couldn’t believe it. You wouldn’t believe it. “Vi?” 

She was standing there, gripping. The bars of your cell with knuckles so white you thought they might split. Her pink hair was longer and suddenly black, her face was harder, smeared with black makeup. She didn’t look like the Vi you knew, but she sounded like her—rough around the edges, soft in the center. 

“I came to get you out,” she said, her voice low and tight. “I’m sorry it took me this long.”

You didn’t make a motion to move, but you made a point to move your head, to catch her gaze. “Caitlyn ditch you when she realized you're still a street rat no matter how hard you pretend you aren’t?”

Vi flinched, your words hitting like a slap, but she didn’t look away. “I deserve that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I deserve worse.” 

You laugh bitterly, leaning your head back against the wall, the chill of the stone seeping into your skin. “You’ve got some nerve coming here. What’s the angle, Vi? Guilt finally too much for you? Or did Caitlyn send you to finally kill me?”

“I’m here because I couldn’t let this stand,” Vi snapped, the fire in her voice rekindling for just a moment before softening again. “I–I made a mistake, okay? I believed the wrong people. I thought I was doing the right thing.” 

“The right thing,” you repeated, tasting the words on your tongue as if you were testing them out in the space between you. “For who? Because it wasn’t for me. And it sure as hell wasn’t for you.” 

Vi leaned her forehead against the cold bars, her shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world was pressing down on her. “For you,” she said, her voice breaking. “I know what type of hell this place is, but I was so scared you were going to die. I thought I was protecting you. I thought… I thought if I stopped you, it’d keep you safe.” 

You laughed again, the sound sharp and hollow. “You really are delusional, Vi. You didn’t protect me. You ruined me. You put me here. You handed me over to them, and they—” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, refusing to let the tears threaten to spill. “You know what they did to me here. You don’t get to come back and act like you care now.” 

Vi’s hand gripped the bars tighter, her knuckles trembling. “I never stopped caring,” she said fiercely. “I’ve been trying to fix this since the day they dragged you in here. I’m not leaving without you, Y/n.” 

You shook your head, a bitter smile twisting your lips. “And then what? What happens after you ‘fix this’? You think we can just walk out of here and pretend nothing happened? That I can forgive you?”

“No,” Vi said, her voice steady despite the pain in her eyes. “I don’t expect forgiveness. God knows I don’t deserve it. But I can’t live with myself knowing I didn’t at least try to make it right.” 

The silence that followed was suffocating. You wanted to yell, to scream, to tell her to leave and never come back—but part of you, a part you hated, wanted to believe her. Wanted to run into her arms and bury your head in the crook of her neck and inhale her familiar scent of stale alcohol from her dad’s bar and dirt. 

“Why now?” you finally asked, your voice quiet, more than fragile. “Why come for me now? Aren’t I a lost cause?”

Vi’s gaze met yours, raw and unguarded. “Because I realized I was wrong.” she said simply. “And because I never stopped loving you. I miss you, and I’m so, so sorry.” 

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning and regret. You didn’t know if you could trust her again, if you even wanted to—but the ache in her voice, the crack in her tough exterior, made something inside you falter. 

“Get me out of here,” you said finally, your voice cold and unyielding. “But don’t think for a second that this changed anything.” 

Vi nodded, her jaw tightening. “Fair enough.” 

She stepped back, pulling on her gauntlets with a low hiss. They hummed to light, emitting a blue light as she placed her hands on the bars of the door and pried it off their hinges. With a creak and a groan, the metal bent and broke under her hands, and she stepped aside, tossing the door to the ground, giving you the space to leave. 

You stood slowly, your body aching from the time spent alone, waiting, and stepped out of the cell. For a moment, you stood face to face with her, the weight of everything unsaid lingering in between the two of you like a bubble you couldn’t pop and a line you couldn’t cross. 

“Let’s go,” you said, brushing past her. 

—----------------------------

You never knew that the sun shone this brightly this deep in the underground. 

In your brief memories of childhood, there was never grass, never light. It was just you and Vi in the darkness of the streets until her parents called her in for dinner and your father called you in to go to sleep. 

Now, being back here again—although ‘here’ was different—felt weird. As if everything had shifted. Vi was different, leaner than you remembered her last, her hair dyed black, her eyes a little harder. But, you supposed that comes with time. 

Leaning back on your hands, you looked up to the sky, to the sun filtering through the polluted air. The grass underneath your palms felt foreign.

“Weird to be out here in the sun, huh?” Vi said quietly, brushing her hand over a stone that had the remnants of a white marker scrawled onto it. 

You nodded, your eyes still tracing the faint clouds in the sky, the blue hazy and far from the pure shade you had imagined reaching down here when you were younger, more naive. “I never thought it would reach down here.” 

Vi remained quiet beside you, but you could feel the tension rolling off her. It was the first time in what felt like forever that you were sharing the same space without the weight of a fight looming over you. 

Her gauntlets were off somewhere under the strict ‘no weapons’ policy, and she looked smaller without them, more fragile. After a long pause, she turned toward you, her voice softer, more hesitant this time. “I know I can’t undo what I did. And I can’t take back the betrayal, or the things I said or didn’t say.” she cleared her throat, absentmindedly tracing patterns in the dirt. “But I’m sorry, Y/n. I really am.” 

You didn’t respond immediately. Her words, though a faint echo of the apology you once prayed for, still felt incomplete. The rawness in her voice, the same tremor you had heard in the prison, didn’t quite reach the part of you that had been shattered when she turned her back on you. Still, there was something there—something you hadn’t expected: sincerity. 

“I know you are,” you said finally, your voice softer than you had intended. You didn’t want to give in, not yet. But the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes tugged at something inside you. It had been years since you’d seen her this close, this unguarded. It hurt, seeing her like this, but the grip of anger was loosening, it’s hold faltering the longer you watched her in front of you the way she did all those years ago. 

Vi shifted next to you, her gaze lingering on the ground. “Do you remember how I used to protect you? Remember how I used to shove you back anytime someone picked trouble with us? I wanted to keep you so far away from all the violence that surrounded us.” She paused, as if trying to collect her thoughts. “I thought that if I kept you away from everything, that you wouldn’t have a shot to kill yourself. That you’d be safe. That I’d figure out a way for us to be safe.” 

“You thought wrong.” You didn’t say it harshly, but the words stung both of you. It was the truth, and you both knew it. 

Her face fell for a moment, even more than it already was, her eyes dimming just enough to show in the sunlight. “I know,” she murmured. “I wish I could change it, but I can’t. I can’t fix it all. All I can do now is try, but… I’ll keep trying.” 

You turned to face her, finally locking eyes. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt something other than anger or hurt. It was a flicker—just a spark, barely a flame—but it was something. 

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you whispered. “Not yet.” 

Vi nodded, her eyes glassy, but she didn’t say anything more. She didn’t need to. The apology was there, and maybe this was the rebirth of something familiar, yet new. Not a clean slate, not yet, but a possibility. A chance. 

She reached over and squeezed your hand so gently it almost felt like a warm breath on a cool day, a silent promise, as if her presence here wasn’t just about getting you out of prison, but about finding a way back to each other.

“I missed you,” she murmured, her voice soft, but heavy with lingering emotions that might never fully go away. 

The world seemed to stop for a heartbeat, and you could feel the time of all the years that had passed between you two—everything unsaid, everything unhealed. 

“I miss you too,” you said, the words lingering in the present, not the past. 

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 2 - Trust is a Two Way Street

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: Mentions of war, mentions of death, descriptions of wounds, medical stuff, medical inaccuracies.

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

The barrel is cold on your skin, you’re holding your breath, his finger is on the trigger. 

“Explain yourself.” A deep voice asks. You swallow hard trying to keep as still as possible.

“I’m a smuggler. I work for whoever pays. The people you killed, I was supposed to get them to Al Qatala. Konni pays me to smuggle people or weapons over the border. It’s easy to use ULF safehouses up here as a stop off point.” 

“You Russian?” The man with the mohawk asks. 

“Does it matter?” You almost spit back at him. 

“What about Al Qatala or ULF you done jobs for them too?” 

“If they pay, yeah. You’d be surprised  how desperate people can get.”  

“Gaz, stand down. She’s not a threat.” You see a hand land on his shoulder. You swallow again, looking up at him, his eyes are scrunched together, there’s real anger behind them. The gun moves from your head, you let out a sigh of relief, sitting back on your legs, you lower your hands slowly.

“What do Al Qatala pay you to smuggle?” Ghost asks. 

“I don’t ask. The less I know the less I’m a liability. I’m good at what I do, that's all that matters.” The man with the mohawk scoffs. Gaz moves back to stand with him. 

“You don’t even get a little curious?” Gaz asks, putting his pistol away. You sigh rolling your eyes, almost like it’s an inconvenience.

“POW’s, chemicals. High ranking members of Al Qatala, mostly for meetings with Konni, sometimes with Makarov himself.”

“What about the ULF?” 

“General supplies, the odd civilians, favors for Farah. It’s harder to cross the other borders. Russia is easy.” 

“So you’re not a medic. Can you even help him?” Ghost asks. You turn to look at him, you can’t tell if colour has come back to his face or not. 

“My mother was a nurse, my father was a doctor. I was on track to go to med school too.” You say, you’re not sure what’s going to happen now. You probably know as much as they do, they’ve most likely been trained on such situations. 

“Where are your parents now?” Gaz asks.

“Dead, killed in the conflict. Like almost everyone I know.” There’s sadness in your voice, you try to hide it. 

“You didn’t pick a side?” Ghost asks. 

“I did, in the beginning. Farah’s message was a popular one. It was the ULF who came to our aid when our town was attacked.” You pause looking round at them all. “It was the ULF who carpet bombed the hospital killing my father. A week later my mother was killed by Al Qatala when they raided a ULF base.” 

“I’m sorry, about your parents.” The mohawk man says, Gaz tuts. 

“Why become a smuggler?” 

“It was by chance. I managed to gather enough money to flee, and pay someone to get me over the border. We got talking, he offered me a job instead.” 

“Where is he now?”

“Probably dead.” You say as a matter of fact. You haven’t seen him in over a year. In the beginning he was like your mentor, teaching you the best routs how to use ULF and Al Qatala safehouses. Who to mention to get people to leave you alone. He vouched for you, got you jobs then when you were ready he just left. 

No one is saying anything. You move to stand up. 

“Your friend’s gunshot is not a through and through, that means the bullet is still in there. Pulling it out could kill him, I don’t have the equipment to check where it is or if he has any other injured organs. He needs a hospital.” You say urgently. 

“CASEVAC?” Gaz says.

“Not from here.” Ghost replies. There’s silence again. You squeeze your eyes closed sighing.

“There’s an abandoned vets in the next town, east of here. It will have the equipment I need to check him.” They could think you’re lying. They’re exchanging glances, you can almost see them thinking. It seems like Ghost is the one incharge, he shifts on his feet. 

“Okay.” 

“What about Farah?” Your head snaps over to the mohawk man, you need to get his name at some point, and figure out where his accent is from, he doesn’t sound like the other two.

“Nothing but radio silence.” Ghost replies. 

“How did you end up here?” You ask before you can stop yourself. You’ve been honest with them, maybe they’ll be honest with you.

“That's classified.” Ghost snaps, you nod. You expected that. 

“I heard Farah’s forces are moving north. We’re close to the Russian border. Maybe it’s best you wait?” You say offering up the only info you have on ULF’s movements.

“How do you know that?” Ghost asks. 

“I was warned they were on the move when I picked up this job.” You say. 

“By Konni?” Gaz asks, you nod. You hear Ghost sigh then mutter under his breath. 

“In your opinion, how bad is he?” Ghost asks, taking another step towards you, you hold your ground. 

“I don’t know. Moving him is risky, but there is no way to tell if the bullet is doing any damage internally. I couldn’t say without scans. There’s probably an x-ray at the vets.” You explain. “It’s 50/50 either way.” 

“And you know how to use one?” The mohawk guy asks, raising en eyebrow. 

“I-I could figure it out, I spent one summer shadowing a radiologist.” You explain. It’s a long shot, but right now it's about keeping yourself alive. As long as you’re useful you’re safe.

There are collective sighs around the room, glaces and nods of heads. Ghost lowers his weapon taking another step towards you. He opens his mouth about to speak when a groan from behind you stops him. 

You turn to see the man on the couch trying to sit himself up. Gaz rushes past you and you take a step back giving him room. 

“Price, don’t move. You’re okay.” He says. Price so that's the name of the man on the sofa. His eyes blink open and he looks around, you can feel Ghost behind you, the barrel of his weapon digging into your back. 

A gentle reminder they don’t trust you.

“Where are we?” Price groans, it’s barely words, you almost miss what he says.

“Urzikstan, ULF safehouse just across the border.” Gaz explains. They came from Russia, what were they doing in Russia?

“Shit, what happened?” Gaz is keeping him pressed down, his hand stroking his arm. 

“Convoy was ambushed, we had no choice.” 

“Alex?” Price asks.

“MIA, we lost track of him when you got shot. I made the order to fall back.” Ghost says but you can hear the strain in his voice. 

“Shit.” 

“It’s okay cap, we’ll find him.” So there are more people with them. Someone called Alex, and they’re missing. They had a convoy, most likely for the ULF. 

“Who’s she?” Price asks his gaze landing on you. You smile at him. 

“That’s a long story.” Gaz says.

next Banners by plum98

[thesquidgame]

The Moments After

Hwang In-ho x wife!reader

Part One Part Two

Summary: In-ho deals with your sudden collapse while you receive treatment.

Warnings: angst, medical emergency, hospital, stitches, blood, viral infection, understaffed hospitals, trauma, violence

Word Count: 2.5k~

In-ho didn’t know how slowly time could pass before today. Sitting in the sterile white hallway of the hospital, bouncing his knee, staring down at his blood-soaked hands, every minute felt like hours. He always thought that was an exaggeration, but here, in this moment, he knew it to be true. Every now and then he would look up when he thought that at least half an hour had passed, only to find that it had been less than a minute.

After he had run you into the ER, chaos erupted. An entire medical staff instantly swarmed you, asking countless questions, all that he was almost too frazzled to answer. He told them only what he knew; that you had been acting strange lately, what strange behaviors you had, and that he woke up earlier that night to find you throwing up blood. And that you hadn’t stopped since you had started.

After that he could only focus on you, screaming your name over and over again as you blinked your eyes slowly, in a daze of blood loss and whatever had happened to you to make you throw up so much.

And then, the hand he didn’t even realize was gripping yours slipped away from his. A nurse held him back as they wheeled you into a deeper part of the hospital that he couldn’t enter. It was suddenly very quiet. Unlike the insanity that had just happened around him, there was complete and total stillness around him. He was far enough into the hospital that the noises of the ER were inaudible. In-ho never knew how quiet a hospital could be, but between the silence, the white walls, and the glacial pace of time, it felt like he was being tortured.

It had been an hour since he had arrived in the hospital, he only knew because of how often he glanced at the clock before any staff talked to him. 

“Sir? Are your feet alright?” 5 AM, the time he knew the doctors changed shifts in your hospital. The man speaking was young and looked terrified by seeing a 40-year-old man covered in blood sitting in an empty hallway. “Are- are you okay?”

In-ho glanced down to see that tracks of blood were running from his feet. He just noticed the pain. He still didn’t care. “No, I need to know what’s happening to my wife?” He demanded as he stood up.

Shame washed over him. Why hadn’t he asked before? He knew the answer, he didn’t want to talk to anybody, that would make this real.

“Sir, I- I think you need to get some stitches first, your feet look-” 

In-ho made the difference between him and the young doctor. He picked him up by the collar and slammed him against the wall. In-ho didn’t consider himself a violent man, but right now he had no idea what he was capable of. 

“What happened to my wife.” He wasn’t asking, he was demanding.

“I- I think I need to treat your feet fi-” In-ho pushed him further into the wall.

The doctor gulped, “What- what’s her name?”

In-ho let go. “(Y/n) Hwang.”

“Nurse Hwang is your wife?” The doctor looked away.

“Yes.” In-ho had done countless trainings and interrogated countless criminals. He knew when someone was afraid of something. “Why are you looking away from me.”

The doctor started walking away, stammering, “If you come with me, I can help you find out what ha-”

“Don’t walk away from me. What aren’t you telling me.” The doctor stopped in his tracks.

When he turned around, In-ho saw tears on his cheeks. “I’m sorry. We- we didn’t know.”

In-ho stalked towards him, leaving almost no space between him and the younger man. “Didn’t know what.”

“We noticed she was acting strange. We thought- we thought it must just be stress.” He gulped, “and if it wasn’t,” he got quiet, “we didn’t know how to deal with it. We were all so stressed out all the time. We- we didn’t have any time or resources to step in or talk to her about it.”

They knew something was wrong with his wife, but they hadn’t done anything about it. In-ho wanted to grab the doctor and slam him against the wall. But he couldn’t. Hadn’t he done the same exact thing? Hadn’t he been too stressed to prod further about what was happening? In-ho thought that because you were a nurse, you would do something if you thought something was wrong, or talk to him about it. He was just as bad as them. No, he was worse. He was your husband. He was supposed to take care of you, that was what he had sworn to do on the best day of his life, your wedding day.

In-ho wanted to break down. He wanted to collapse and roll into a ball on the ground and cry. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know anything about your condition, he had to figure out what was happening, he had to do something.

In-ho croaked, “What happened to her?”

The doctor silently walked away, sensing what had just happened, and In-ho followed behind. “I’m going to see if anyone can come tell us what happened.” He pressed dials on a phone and called someone. “A doctor will be here soon. The surgery is almost over.”

Surgery? In-ho knew there was a reason that all of the doctors and nurses had rushed away and not come back, but hearing it was different than just simply knowing it.

“Can I look at the cuts on your feet?”

In-ho didn’t respond, just sat down in a chair and put his head in his hands. 

It was another long wait before anyone came out to talk to In-ho, and eventually, a woman and a man came out wearing scrubs, “Mr. Hwang?”

In-ho stood up immediately, staring at the doctor who looked to be the same age as him. In-ho didn’t have to ask the question, the doctor already knew what he was waiting to hear. The other doctor sighed, “She’s alive.”

In-ho let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “My name is Dr. Park, would you like to take a seat?”

He didn’t like that. In-ho knew that tone of voice. He had used the same one at his job when he was giving bad news. “No, tell me now.”

The doctor reached up and took off his surgical cap. “Your wife had a large blood vessel in her esophagus explode, causing internal bleeding. We were able to help correct it using bands in surgery.” The doctor sighed again, as In-ho held his breath. “However, that isn’t the concerning part. There is almost always an underlying condition causing this. We sent a rush blood panel down and found that your wife’s liver results came back abnormal. We believe she has cirrhosis.”

Cirrhosis. He had only heard about this in passing when you were studying for your nursing exams. You had made a stack of notecards at least three feet tall, and he spent weeks quizzing you. In-ho had always had a good memory and was usually able to pick out pieces relating to the disease, but for some reason, he couldn’t remember anything relating to cirrhosis.

“What, what does this mean?” In-ho said, panic exuding through his voice.

“I’d like to talk further when your wife wakes up, it’s best if we discuss with the patient and the patient’s family there.”

In-ho wanted to was rush over and hit this doctor until he told him everything he wanted to know, but his priorities were still on you. He had to conserve his energy, and arguing with the doctor would only take more energy than he had to waste. “Can I see her?”

“Yes, she’s right this way.” This doctor said nothing about the blood In-ho was leaving on the floor. He had been doing this a lot longer than the other one and knew that stitches were the least important thing in In-ho’s mind at this point.

You were lying in the bed, still unconscious from surgery. “We were able to go in laparoscopically, meaning that we put a tube down her throat and operated from there.”

In-ho didn’t care about what that meant, he just rushed to your side and grabbed one of your hands in both of his. Your hands felt cold and clammy, and he looked to your side to see that there was a blood bag attached to your arm next to another one giving you other fluids.

“Is there anyone we can call for you? You were listed as her emergency contact, so we weren’t sure if you had any family you’d like us to call.” The nurse waiting next to Dr. Park asked. 

In-ho didn’t pause, “Yes, my brother.” He realized that he had left his phone in your apartment in his rush to get you to the hospital. He quickly gave Jun-ho’s number and went back to directing his complete and full attention at you.

In a couple of minutes, the young doctor from before came into the room pushing a small metal cart. “Mr. Hwang, can I quickly treat your foot wounds? You won’t have to leave her side. It’s best to do it now so you won’t have to leave her side later if it gets worse.”

In-ho didn’t move, and the doctor took it as a sign to continue. The younger doctor had clearly been lectured on what best to say to the loved one of an injured person. He painstakingly pulled glass piece after glass piece out of In-ho’s foot, washed each cut carefully, and then stitched up each one. He was in miserable pain, but In-ho didn’t move. It was a small dosage of the punishment he deserved for ignoring your illness.

The doctor silently left after he was finished wrapping the wounds, and In-ho continued the self-inflicted torture he put himself through inside his head.

The door burst open, and Jun-ho rushed inside, a nurse hot on his heels. “Sir, you can’t be in here! It’s not visiting hours.”

“It’s 6:45, visiting hours start in 15 minutes,” Jun-ho said, ignoring her further protests to run forward and kneel next to his brother. “In-ho, are you alright? What happened? They wouldn’t tell me anything on the phone.” 

“She’s sick. She’s really sick.” In-ho said. 

Jun-ho’s face was shocked. “What are you talking about? How long has this been going on?”

“I don’t know. I- I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t think it could be this.” He paused, taking a deep breath, “she had to have surgery. She started…” In-ho shuddered, “she started throwing up blood earlier this morning, and I had to drive her to the hospital.”

Jun-ho didn’t know what to do, or say. His brother was glued to your side, so he couldn’t hug him. They had been through something slightly similar when Jun-ho was 8 and their father had died, but past it both being sick family members, everything else was different. In-ho was 20 when their dad died, and he was the one comforting Jun-ho. Now it was Jun-ho’s turn, and he had no idea how to do it. 

This was his wife. The reason In-ho got out of bed in the morning; you were his entire life. Your wedding date was his passcode, and his lock screen was you on the day you graduated nursing school.

“In-ho, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. Do they know what it is?”

In-ho squeezed your hand tighter, “I don’t know the details, but it’s something with her liver. It’s… It’s bad Jun-ho.”

There was nothing else for Jun-ho to say. No band-aid that could fix it, not call to anyone to change it. He sat down next to his brother, and like In-ho, waited.

It was only a couple of hours before you woke up, dazed and blinking slowly. Your eyes immediately moved towards the man holding your hand, “In-ho?”

Your voice hurt to speak, it felt like there were rusty nails in your windpipe.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” In-ho surged toward you, beginning to stroke your hair with his hand.

“What- what happened?” You saw In-ho’s brother push a button next to your bed.

“What do you remember?” He said, slowly and soothingly.

“I remember feeling sick, and getting up to throw up, and- and that’s it.” You said, blinking in confusion.

In-ho looked like he started to say something before a doctor and a nurse walked into the room, both of them being people you had worked with before. Dr. Park was the nicest doctor in the hospital you thought. He was a man of few words and never sugarcoated anything, but he always took care of his patients' needs. The nurse was a new hire, she was one that you always covered for, and there was a strange expression on her face.

“Ms. Hwang, I’m glad you're awake.” He said, pulling a stool forward that had been in the corner of the room. 

“My husband was just about to tell me what happened.” You said, still confused at what was happening.  You looked up at In-ho, and there was a look of sheer terror on his face, confusing you even further. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

He did his best to wipe that look off his face, but it didn’t really work, “nothing, I just want to hear what the doctor has to say.”

Dr. Park took a deep breath, before explaining something that would change your life forever. “Ms. Hwang, your husband brought you in early this morning after you threw up blood. He told us that you had been having some odd symptoms, and frankly, some of the staff were able to recount some for me as well. We did some blood work, and noticed some unusual things.” You held your breath. “The first thing we noticed, was that you tested positive for Hepatitis C, do you have any knowledge of this?”

You and In-ho were both shocked, “no, I- I had no idea.” 

Dr. Park sighed again, a sound that was quickly becoming foreboding, “Do you have any past use of drugs, any knowledge of any family members carrying the virus, or any contact with used needles.”

And then it hit you, “Yes. When I was in my first month as a nurse I got stuck with a used needle. My boss- my boss told me that it happened to everyone at some time or another and that we were busy and had to move on.” 

In-ho looked at you horrified, “Honey, what does the disease do?” He whispered, addressing you and not the doctor.

But Dr. Park cut in, “It’s a virus that can go away on its own, but other times it can stay in the body symptom-free for decades before showing harmful symptoms. It’s unlikely to be transmitted through sex, but you should get tested as well.”

While the doctor was speaking, the pieces connected in your head. Hepatitis C, vomiting up blood, the symptoms you thought were nothing. “My liver is failing, isn’t it.”

The four other people in the room turned to you. The look on In-ho’s face killed you, so you had to look away and move your glance to Dr. Park.

He stared you in the eyes, and said, “Yes, it is.”

I'm taking a break from the series, I'll probably write part three after my next fic!

Tags: @bigdaddddyyyyy @kimeungun114 @eviesmoon @jspidey5 @kyl13sm1l3y @watasinekoru @starkeyszn @multifandomgirllol @annasnape7 @sylviavf @foulbreadpaenut @unaaasz @vrystalius @ultimate-simp-10

[supergraphicgirl81]

Destiny is Calling Me `♡´. ₊˚ ☎︎₊˚

Pairings: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: After hurriedly being rushed to the club by Lando and Logan, Oscar grapples with flashbacks of his past relationship and ponders the idea of fate as he unexpectedly runs into his long-term ex-girlfriend in a run-down college club after over a year and a half of not talking, at a school neither of them planned on going.

Warnings: none, just some cursing

Words: ....9.7K

Authors Notes: Okay guys it's happening. I’m literally about to go out to the club but I wanted to make sure I got this out first, I finally tried writing a full story. NFBJFBOUERBGPRE I'm so nervous but this plot has been haunting my mind for ages now and I needed it in actual words, so here it is. Guys if it is bad just tell me PLEASE but other than that I really hope you guys enjoy !!!!!!!! BTW it's very long, so sorry

Oscar didn't know why he was there really.

What he did know was that he had just spent the past 7 hours studying for his Thermodynamics Exam that was on Monday and that he had to wake up at 8 a.m. to do it all over again tomorrow.

But like any good teammate, or well roommate in this case, when Lando and Logan text you in dire need of assistance at the club, you go with no hesitation, even if they failed to mention that the “emergency” was Oscar's so-called loneliness that Lando claims he could smell even from across the screen. 

Oscar met Logan on the first day of college freshman year in some random class he can barely remember now. Logan always says it was Anthropology but Oscar swears it was Humanities. 

On the first day of class, Logan had to ask Oscar for a pencil because he forgot one, which Oscar of course didn't mind giving, especially because he gave it back. So when Logan sat in the same seat right next to Oscar during their second class meeting and asked him again to borrow a pencil, an unannounced friendship was created.

After about a week of small talk between the two, Oscar learned that Logan was looking for a sport to fill up his schedule with while he was in the off-season for football. Oscar explained how he was actually looking to try out for the Ice Hockey team at the school if he also happened to be interested. He had played all throughout high school and was looking into picking it back up after taking a break. 

It's safe to say Logan didn’t know how to play hockey, but he claimed he was a fast learner, Oscar still doesn’t know exactly how true that is. 

Now, it just so happens that Logan and Oscar also ended up meeting Lando that same day. And by meeting I mean Lando ran right into Logan while riding his skateboard in a hurry to class. Lando made sure to quickly exchange his number before riding away (late) to class, sending many apologies later and even offering to hang out.

From there an odd but somewhat working trio was formed through many late-night hockey practices and class study sessions. Now in their second year and unfortunately living together, Lando and Logan are convinced about getting Oscar out of his shell and more into the scene in which Oscar always refuses. This leads him to where he is currently, at the club, on a Saturday night. Which to be fair, is probably where he should be anyway.

Unmoved by their usual antics Oscar rolls his eyes at the two before speaking up in a hurry, trying to leave as soon as possible 

“Please don’t tell me you two called me down here because I was studying, in the quiet apartment, by myself?” Oscar emphasizes looking at Lando and Logan with his eyebrows raised and a deadpanned face. 

Lando quickly looks away from staring at Oscar, quickly determining the floor to be more important as Logan tilts his head left and right, throwing his hands up in a shrug, making a weird face at Oscar.

That is exactly what they did.

After their faces and a silence that went on for a couple of seconds too long, Oscar exclaimed in annoyance, slightly throwing his hands out “Guys! I literally have a test on Monday, I’m in major study-panic mode, I can’t be wasting time here at the club.” 

Lando immediately makes a shocked face at his words, offended by his soulless dismissal of the party life “But Oscarrrrrrrrr” He cries jumping up and down erratically before Logan puts a hand on his shoulder stopping him, and continuing on “Oh come on Oscar! Let’s be realistic here, you probably weren't even studying anyways, you were just listening to your “I’m still heartbroken over my ex” playlist, AGAIN” He insinuates, rolling his eyes at Oscar, he’s never met someone quite so down bad for a girl before, well besides maybe Charles Leclerc. 

Oscar Deadpans before standing up for himself “The playlist is called Getting OVER My Ex, you know that!” rolling his eyes “And you would be too if you knew her!”

Logan lets out a loose chuckle as he moves forward to pull Oscar to the dance floor but Oscar quickly takes a step backward before any of the two boys can get him

“No. You know what?” Oscar states confidently, sticking his chest out hesitantly “I am leaving, get home safely.”

He swiftly turns around and is about to make his way to the exit, shaking his head ever so slightly when he freezes.

And there she is. Oscar sees her, clear as day. He could never mistake that familiar silhouette.

A blonde is briskly making her way through the crowded club into the bar line surrounded by two other girls. As he watches her go by from afar, he's taken aback, he still sees everything so clearly, just like it was yesterday.  

FLASHBACK

It was Oscars freshman year and the first day back after Winter break, he was currently in between classes in the hallway and just about to head to the cafeteria to eat lunch with his friends. But first, he had to shove the extra textbooks Oscar checked out from the library for an up-and-coming project he had in his Biology class, into his locker.

Now Oscar oftentimes didn't mind work, but he couldn't believe that school had only just started back and his Bio teacher was already giving out projects to start. Not only that, but it was a partner project, meaning he either had to find a friend to partner with or just get stuck with a rando in his class picked for him by the teacher.

Guess which one Oscar was going with. 

Oscar stood outside his locker messing with the lock trying to get it to open when he heard a familiar laugh. Looking up to his side at the noise he saw a group of girls walking and laughing down the halls, deep in conversation.

More importantly, he saw the prettiest girl ever, this blonde girl, Y/N L/N, he always saw her around school, she was in a couple of his classes, Biology actually being one of them.

One time in Biology she flipped her hair over her shoulder and then (accidentally) made eye contact with him and smiled, and he claims that that was the best thing to ever happen to him. 

Looking back to his locker and continuing back to grumpily shoving his textbooks in his locker, Oscar blocked out all other noises and conversations around him, just like he always did.

So much so that he even failed to hear the little ‘Hellos’ coming from his right side. To be fair she was standing directly behind the locker.

Oscar didn't even notice somebody was standing there until he shut his locker door, slamming it admittedly a little harder than intended. This caused both Y/N and Oscar to jump.

Well, she jumped because of the unexpected loud sound, Oscar jumped because Y/N L/N was currently standing right in front of him. 

After Oscar just stared at her in silence for a few seconds too long, Y/N cleared her throat and started to speak “Uh, you're Oscar right?” She asks, the slightest pink ever so dusting her cheeks. Oscar nodded his head, starting to smile ever so slightly responding with “Yeah I’m Oscar. Y/N right?”

Shocked he knew her name as well Y/N smiled even brighter, standing up straighter “Yeah! It is, You're in my biology class, right?” “I am! I was actually just putting away some extra books I picked up, just some topic points for the project coming up” Oscar responds, huffing slightly at the end, clearly annoyed at the idea of the project.

Laughing lightly at his loud, telltale emotions Y/N speaks up “How annoying right? Like we just got back from break, how are you already freaking me out about my grades.” Y/N states still laughing, rolling her eyes as she comfortably leans against the locker looking at Oscar.

He laughs along with her sentiments feeling the same way, not exactly knowing what to say next. She makes him nervous. Noticing the sudden silence, Y/N straightens up standing up off the lockers, clapping her hands before starting her proposition.

“Well! As you know the Biology project is partner work, and I know you said you kind of already started with topics and everything but I was wondering -if you didn't have one already-  if you wanted to maybe be partners?”

Oscar cuts her off, quickly responding to her question “Yes! I mean yeah, that sounds cool, I don't mind showing you the topics I’ve thought about” Oscar stutters out trailing off towards the end, blushing slightly at his own eagerness and nerves.

He soon though relaxed once he saw her smiling, laughing slightly at him.

“Alright then.” Y/N smiles at him, blushing slightly as well “Sounds good.” She finishes as she reaches into her backpack's front pocket and pulls out a pen and a sticky note, moving it to the locker so she can write her number on it as Oscar just stares at her writing her number for him and hands him the sticky note once she's done. 

Just then the bell rings signaling that Lunch is starting, Y/N smiles at Oscar one more time before saying “Bye Oscar! I’ll text you later!” and turning around, walking down the hall towards the cafeteria where her friends are. 

Oscar can't help but continue to watch her walk down the hall until she's fully gone. Smiling to himself, he then turns back around to face his locker, opening it back up once more, this time pinning Y/Ns sticky note to the locker door before he closes it for the last time and heads off to the cafeteria. His lunch just got a whole lot better, he can’t wait to tell Daniel.

It has been a full year since Oscar last saw her, maybe even longer. He can’t believe he just saw her.

Suddenly Oscar is jolted out of his trance when he feels a hand on his shoulder shaking him slightly, he hears Lando speak up “Uh Oscar, are you alright?”,

Logan asks quickly after “Yeah buddy, you kinda froze, me and Lando thought you were leaving?”

“She’s here” Oscar ominously states with slightly wide eyes.

Lando swiftly looks to his right and left scrunching up his face before speaking back up, scared of Oscar's implications, asking “Uh who’s she?” 

Oscar then rolls his eyes shaking Lando's hand off of him before turning around and facing the two boys, crossing his arms, shiftily looking over their shoulders on the lookout, “My ex, I just saw her standing right over there in line, with her friends” Oscar states as he points towards the bar line on the far left side of the club. 

The sound of the revelation causes Lando to let out the biggest gasp Oscar’s ever heard from him (and that's saying a lot) while Logan's eyes bulge out of his head, mouth agape. The two boys who were taken aback and stunned into silence quickly burst out into questions, loudly overlapping each other

“What do you mean your ex?” “Now are we sure it was her?” “Like THE three-and-a-half-year long ex?”

Oscar again rolls his eyes at the two antics (he swears his eyes really are going to get stuck like that), looking to the side towards the bar area spotting a glimpse of the familiar blonde hair now walking towards the dance floor, Oscar sighs before explaining shortly, “Of course I mean that ex, shes my only ex!” Oscar exclaims impatiently at Logan and Lando as he faces them again closing his eyes shortly,

“I’m unfortunately 100% certain that's her, I would recognize her anywhere. Literally, what do I do, she hates me! The last time I saw her she was uncontrollably crying at me. I have to leave now!” Oscar starts to ramble off, going through with his final decision, turning around and briskly starting to walk away before Lando can grab him by the shoulders and pull Oscar back to the two. After being pulled back deeper into the club, Oscar shuts his eyes tightly in order to avoid the situation at hand.  

At the sudden, and very rare moment of silence, Oscar reopens his eyes to be met with Lando looking at his face all twisting up with concern, and Logan staring at him looking more determined than ever with his fist to his mouth, deep in thought.

Lando can't help but mumble quietly in response to Oscar as he awkwardly looks around the club “Well you did break her heart, I’d be crying too.” and Oscar can't help but let out a groan at Lando's insinuation as Logan starts his new plan of action for the night. 

“Well okay now..” Oscar groans again, louder this time not wanting to hear what Logan has to say, throwing his hands up, Logan continues

“Let’s! Think about this. Oscar, what is exactly so bad about this whole thing?” Logan asks genuinely, waving his hands around towards the hand.

With a face in shock and eyebrows raised high Oscar answers “Great question Logan, Let's see! Well uh for starters we dated for three amazing years and were supposed to last throughout college, until what happened again? Oh right! Until I broke us up right when high school ended so we could” Oscar finishes with quotations “experience life individually”

At the sound of Oscar's reasoning behind his and Y/Ns breakup, Oscar could see Lando's mouth drop even further, somehow more in shock Oscar would do something like that, and he himself couldn’t agree more.

Logan slightly cringes as Oscar explains his past before speaking up again “Okay, I’m hearing the issue, but still! What about the other parts of the three years, where you weren't breaking up with her? Weren’t they good?” 

At Logan's simple but taxing question, Oscar lets out another breath he didn't notice he was holding as he answers him “Of course, they were good, being with her was the time of my life”

Oscar can’t help but smile ever so timidly as he remembers one of his favorite moments with her. God, it felt like so long ago now. 

FLASHBACK

Oscar was currently running around his room tidying it up in the last places he could as he frantically looked at the clock. 2:52. Fuck. She’s almost here.

Ever since that one fateful locker meeting where Y/N and Oscar decided to be Project partners, Y/N has been over at Oscar's house around three times a week to study, or at least that's what they were saying.

Now realistically when Y/N came over they spent about 25% doing the project, the rest of the 75% came in just talking, driving around the city, and hanging out with each other.

It started as just normal studying until Oscar asked if she wanted him to walk her home one night, and when she happily obliged, they got to talking. This led to talking during the study sessions, which then turned to talking over text, constantly, which led them to where they are today.

Not that Oscar was complaining, he has never had a better time while doing his homework.

But she's been coming around so often now that it's gotten even harder to just push his feelings aside. Especially when he's trying to explain presentation points to her and she’s just staring at him, smiling, he has a hard time staying on topic.

Sometimes he thinks he's positive that she returns his feelings, cause surely nobody wants to actually meet up that many times to go over a project, right? But some days he also realizes that you're Y/N and he's Oscar and that he's realistically never stood a chance.

So naturally, with the abundance of hanging out going on, Oscar invited Y/N, yet again, today after school to continue working on their Biology project, to which Y/N of course obliged.

Which leads him to where he currently was, frantically pacing around his room waiting for the clock to strike 3.

Just as Oscar was sorting out a couple of last loose items on his desk he heard a knock at his door, promptly causing him to roll his eyes, moving to open his bedroom door while simultaneously jokingly, but not jokingly scolding his mother “What Mom? You know Y/Ns coming over, what's so import-” Oscar stops mid-sentence as he opens his door to see Y/N standing there, in all her glory.

Making a shocked face, cheeks blushing ever so lightly, Oscar chuckles “Y/N! You are indeed not my mother” Oscar laughs it off, trying his hardest to not make things awkward as he stands frozen in the doorway. 

Y/N noticing his very obvious nerves, tilts her head to the side and laughs it off “I am indeed not your mother. That would make this a little weird.” She ever so slightly insinuates pushing past Oscar and the door, into his room immediately making her way to his bed, after carelessly throwing her backpack to the side, she jumps onto Oscar's bed and flips around, lying on her stomach, kicking her feet up in the air. 

Oscar watches in awe as she makes her way confidently through his room, straight to his bed. He shakes his head ever so slightly at her throwing her backpack before moving across the room as well, plopping down right next to her on his bed, laying down on his back.

Taking in the silence and her presence, Oscar closes his eyes briefly.

However after a couple of minutes, slightly perturbed by the silence from the usually chatty girl, Oscar reopens his eyes to check and see what she's up to. 

He was deeply surprised to be met with her eyes already staring at him, she was smiling warmly at him with the faintest pink cheeks, hair strands falling down her face, she looked kind of perfect.

Caught off guard by the hard-staring Oscar raised a brow at her already questioning actions, before vaguely smirking while squinting and asking out loud “What are you staring and smiling at” 

Feeling slightly caught, Y/Ns cheeks light up as she moves from her current position on his bed to crossing her legs. Still sitting right in front of him, she smiles sheepishly, trying, but not succeeding, to laugh it off “Nothing. Mind your business Piastri.”Y/N responds tilting her head to the side again as she continues to look down at Oscar.

This causes Oscar to smile brightly, pushing up on his forearms and resting on them so he’s closer to you before he answers your sass “I think this is my business.” Staring into Oscar's eyes you chuckle lightly at his response to you, squinting at him, it’s so Oscar. 

  There are a couple of moments of silence before Oscar lets out a large sigh and a smile, causing you to roll your eyes as Oscar then sits up from his position on his bed so he can grab his textbook at the edge of the bed saying “Alright then.” before laying back down in his same spot (maybe slightly closer to Y/N, but who’s counting).

Opening up the textbook, Oscar flips through the pages before landing on the one he's looking for, he then looks back up at Y/N asking “Ready to start?” 

Y/N stared down at Oscar for a couple more seconds, nodding ever so lightly, but instead of answering, in one quick motion, she leaned down from her position and grabbed Oscar's face softly before kissing him.

The kiss was so short Oscar didn't even have time to resonate that he should be kissing back before she pulled away. 

Moving quickly, Y/N moved to sit up relaxing slightly, sitting more on her side, smiling timidly, until Oscar carefully, but swiftly placed his hand on her face and pulled her back down again, kissing her this time. The kiss only lasted a couple of seconds longer until they were pulling away again. The pair stayed there for a couple of seconds just looking at each other. 

Both smiling like idiots, giggling softly, Y/N goes to respond to Oscar's previous question “Yeah, I’m ready.” She answers leaning slightly on him as she grabs her pencil, cheeks red and smiling widely.

Oscar chuckles along softly with her also moving closer to her before starting the project “Alright then, I think it's about time we talk about exploring the potential of biofuels for sustainable energy sources” 

Coming back to his sad reality, Oscar opens his eyes to see Lando looking at him, almost on the verge of tears, yet jumping up and down exuberantly, before he goes to speak “Osc that's great news!” He finishes with a voice crack.

Oscar feels slightly weirded out by Lando's random burst of happiness over him and his ex-girlfriend he's never met and yet he also finds it comforting.

In an attempt to make Lando understand Oscar's situation more, Oscar tries to answer Lando “I mean not really at all, but thank you-” Oscar gets quickly cut off by Logan who is now looking at Oscar deeply offended.

“Oscar! I don’t get it. Your ex-girlfriend of three great years is here and you have the chance to rekindle it! You broke it off, and now you can mend it back up! Literally save the day!” Logan exclaims, which prompts Oscar to roll his eyes, annoyed by Logan's determination to solve this

“Logan you don’t understand. I broke it off for a reason” Oscar emphasizes, the guilt from that night starting to creep up on him.

Logan sees Oscar's growing impatience and decides to take it back a notch, slowing down for a second before responding to Oscar “You're right I don't understand. Why did you really break up with her? If it was so good then why did you end things?” 

Oscar promptly goes to answer Logan “I-” Before stopping and huffing slightly, taking a couple of seconds before he decides to pull Logan and Lando further to the side of the still-busy club, making it easier for him to talk. 

“I guess I was just scared.” Oscar lets out, staring back at Logan and Lando’s so far blank faces for a couple of seconds, before speaking again “I mean I know that's probably boring of me to say but, I was scared for me and Y/N to have a future together. All we had ever known was each other and I guess I just sort of started to wonder that maybe it would be best to live our lives a little separately.”

After that first sentence, the words just started to pour out of Oscar, it was easy for him to remember, he thinks about the night he decided more than he probably should. 

FLASHBACK

Oscar sat there on the edge of his bed. He had just gotten out of the shower and was supposed to be starting on his AP English literature essay that’s due tomorrow which he had been pushing off recently.

But instead, he found himself just sitting there, thinking. He found that he often spent his life thinking these days, it felt like 24/7 to Oscar. Well you know, at least when he had the time to. 

He was always thinking about something, whether he wanted to or not.

He was thinking about the hockey practices he needed to drill and nail down. If it wasn't hockey practices, it was the handful of college applications he had to complete, deadlines were coming soon. And of course, if it wasn't applications it was always Y/N.

And while yes in the first couple of years, Oscar never minded making Y/N one of his top priorities, now, it was starting to take a toll. It was Oscar's senior year of high school and instead of partying, having fun, and just letting loose he was always on edge, freaking out about his future.

He was nervous about his future in college, nervous about his future with hockey, and most nervous about his future with Y/N, recently he had just been thinking. 

As he sits on his bed absentmindedly staring at his walls he feels his phone vibrate, looking at the message as it briefly pops up on his screen, Oscar sees Y/N's name flash across. Oscar subconsciously lets out a sigh as he stares at the screen until it goes black.

Lately, it’s almost like she's been getting on his nerves, Oscar just didn't know why.

Standing up abruptly, Oscar made his way over to his desk, picking up his backpack from the ground, and placing it on his desk. As Oscars grabs his notebook and textbook from his backpack the photos that he has had hung on his board since sophomore year catch his eye.

In particular, he focuses on the photobooth photo.

It’s a series of 4 photos of Y/N and Oscar on one of their dates, it was one of his favorites, it’s where he said I love you for the first time, cliche maybe, but it was perfect, kind of like them. Or at least kind of like how they used to be. 

As Oscar stares at the photos of him and Y/N, he smiles ever so slightly, thinking of all the good times they’ve had before the small smile drops.

There his mind goes again, Oscar sighs heavily, he doesn't understand why he's having such trouble with your guy's relationship recently, he knows you guys fight, and maybe it's been more frequent than normal, but why has this relationship been such a strain on him?

It’s probably because it just turned into an unwanted cycle, Oscar calls Y/N and something about it makes her upset, Y/N goes over to Oscars and something upsets Oscar, and probably her as well. Everything was just starting to feel like a lose-lose situation and he wondered when this started happening. 

As his thoughts start to rack up again, Oscar pauses grabbing his stuff from his backpack, and breathes slightly for a couple of seconds before moving to sit back on the edge of his bed.

He feels his phone vibrate again and he closes his eyes, thinking hard this time.

Oscar has had his eyes set on you since your guy's freshman year. Oscar has known he has wanted to be with you, for as long as you will allow, since freshman year. Oscar also knows that it has been 3 years since then and you both have grown, perhaps even differently. 

Opening his eyes and turning his head. Oscar stares back at the photobooth photo, frowning slightly.

You two will be going to college soon and will be growing in so many different ways, so different that maybe staying together will hinder those experiences.

Oscar's thoughts feel silent for a second before he recognizes it, maybe that's what he has been feeling lately. Trapped in a box.

Going to college means new experiences, new traditions, new friends, and maybe even a new girlfriend? Or at least, experiencing the individual life. He doesn’t want another girlfriend outside of Y/N, he just doesn’t want a relationship at all in general right now.

That’s a new thought for him. 

Hearing a faint noise from the kitchen, Oscar breaks out of his trance from staring at the photo. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom door, heading to the bathroom before catching himself in the mirror that hangs on the back.

He was surprised to see watery eyes staring back at him when he looked in the mirror. After standing there for what felt like an eternity, Oscar let out a little sniffle as he nodded slightly to himself, almost in agreement with what he just decided in his head.

He knew what he, unfortunately, needed to do, it was time for new experiences, right?

Lando speaks this time trying to break through to Oscar’s overwhelming silence “Okay… So now we get that part Oscar, but still, can’t you at least just talk to her about all of this? Explain it to her maybe?” Lando tries to reason before Logan speaks up “And for all you know, it's been a couple of years, you two have both probably changed so much, she knows that.”

Oscar stares at the two as they try to sound hopeful for him, Oscar feels bad for shooting the two down so fast. They just didn't understand the levels behind him and you. 

It came out of nowhere, she was so blindsided he didn't see how she could forgive him, he wouldn't.

After a couple of seconds Oscar sighs again before raining on their parades “You guys don't understand how it went down. You didn't see her face. I genuinely had never seen her so upset before.” Oscar winces as the memory replays in his head before sighing and continuing.

“And the worst part was that I was the one that caused it.” He regrets every day how it all went down, that’s not how he wanted you two to go out. 

FLASHBACK

Oscar was currently sitting on the edge of his bed, again. Frozen in something. Fear, guilt, annoyance, he didn’t know.

What he did know is that after the revelation he made Monday, he decided on a plan for himself, now it was Friday night, and he had invited you over. 

You were currently sitting on his bed as well, just much more relaxed, leaning up against his headboard, staring at him as he sat there on the edge.

See, Oscar about five minutes ago was just cuddling with you until he had to go to the bathroom, but then when he came back, instead of getting back in bed with you, he sat on the edge of the bed.

After about two minutes of silence, Y/N decides to finally see what’s happening

“Uh, hey Osc?” She questions as she moves from her position to sitting right behind Oscar, placing her hand on his shoulder blade and continuing with her question “What’s happening? Is everything okay?” 

At the sound of her last question, Oscar closes his eyes, inhaling a deep breath before opening his eyes and letting out his breath. Oscar turns his body to the side so he can look at Y/N. He sees her smiling small at him, with no clue in the world.

“I think we should break up” 

Oscar watches clear as day as Y/Ns smile slowly drops, her face quickly turning deadpan “What?” She mumbles out, wanting to make sure she actually heard him correctly.

There is absolutely no way she just heard him correctly.

At the sight of her state, Oscar starts to panic and ramble “I just think that at this stage in our life, it would be best to live our own, individual lives and not be so caught up in each other.” Y/N doesn't say anything as her eyes rapidly start to water, threatening to spill as Oscar continues on, even more flustered

“I mean think about it, we haven't even actually been truly happy in a while!” Oscar exclaims still in panic. This last sentence causes all the tears to start coming out as Y/N quickly moves to stand up off his bed, roughly grabbing her backpack as she simultaneously wipes her consistently flowing tears.

Oscar quickly stops his overflowing words at the sight of the girl he loves grabbing all her loose items around his room, sobbing quietly, the weight of his actions now weighing on him. 

The room is silent besides the clattering sound of Y/N picking up her stuff and Y/Ns muffled cries

“Y/N” Oscar mumbles out, she lets out another sob, standing still for a second as she turns even farther away from him, almost as if she were waiting for him to continue on. Oscar noticing her pause, takes the hint “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

She lets out a watery scoff at Oscar's weak apology, turning around and glaring at him slightly as she asks “You're sorry? You're breaking up with me. But you're sorry?”

Oscar can feel his heart breaking at the tone of her voice, all he can do in this situation is nod at the crying girl mumbling back “I am”

You stare at him for a couple of seconds more, tears still falling as you let out a short breath, shaking your head “God, Three years Oscar! Three years we’ve been together,  literally through everything, and now all this” Y/N gestures wildly with her hands between the two “because you want to try new experiences.”

As Y/N finishes her emotional tangent Oscar can’t help but just stand and stare at her. This is so different to him, so… not them.

Oscar nods his head ever so slightly again, shrugging along with it, tired of having to constantly explain everything. Y/N stares at him for a little bit longer, almost as if she's taking in all his last details as if she’ll never see him again. 

After about a minute Y/N lets out a short sniffle as she moves to grab her backpack from his desk, before turning back around to Oscar

“I hope you have the time of your fucking life.” Y/N states bitterly before walking past him out his bedroom door for the last time. Oscar quickly calls out in a moment of desperation “Y/N/!” But Oscar soon hears his front door slam close and lets out an unexpected breath.

It takes Oscar about three minutes until he decides to move from where he's standing.

At least that's how much time he thinks he was frozen, he wasn’t really paying too close attention, his mind was somewhere else. Oscar couldn't decide what he was currently feeling.

On one side, he was relieved, he felt like a weight had honestly been lifted off his shoulder.

But on the other side, Oscar was convinced he just lost the love of his life. 

Oscar finally made the move to sit down opting for his favorite spot, the edge of the bed. As he sat down, he closed his eyes for a second and just breathed.

He felt okay, almost alright, it was a big step, but he was happy he went through with it, this was the first step to feeling better he just knew it. Or at least he thought he knew. Until he opened his eyes and looked to his right and there it was, as it always was, the photobooth photo.

That’s when everything came crashing down on Oscar. 

He was so scared, so unsure of his own future that instead of leaning on the one person who would help him through anything to talk about things, he pushed you away, so far away.

In fact, he didn't push you away, he absolutely obliterated your heart.

You gave him three years, three challenging, yet perfect years, that he would never have changed for the world, and all he did to repay you was make empty promises and stomp on your heart.

Oscar felt like he was going to be sick.

“The worst part was the second she left, I regretted it immediately. I’ve never stopped regretting it actually.” Oscar states as he solemnly looks towards the floor.

Hearing no response, Oscar lifts his head up, raising a brow looking back at Logan and Lando, questioning their silence “What? No “How could you do that to her” or “You're right Oscar she should hate you”?” Oscar offers, still confused and slightly thrown off by their unnatural quietness.

Lando lets out a short chuckle as Logan starts back up “Look Oscar, you guys were kids! Literally, and you spent multiple years growing up together, it's normal to take breaks, and it's normal to make mistakes. I genuinely think if you just tried and talked to her it could actually work out pretty well for you” Logan bargains with Oscar as he looks towards the dancefloor having a clear view shot of her with her friends.

He lets out an unknowing, reflective smile as he sees her newer yet ever-the-same frame dancing around to the song. He looks back to Logan with a small smile on his face, somewhat content that he even got to see her after all this time. Especially looking this well.

“Look Logan… oh and Lando” Oscar off-handily gestures to the latter, Lando quickly bows his hand at the added sentiment

“I appreciate it, but I think our time has just passed. I had a great thing and I threw it away.” Oscar confesses “And while I don’t regret it, because I'm glad I've gotten to take this path in life and meet these people,” Insinuating to the two standing in front of him, which they both coo at, covering their hearts with their hands

“I do miss her.” He finally admits out loud “But hey, that’s life.” Oscar ends his speech with a small shrug in proper Oscar fashion. 

Logan lets out a long “Booo” at Oscar's confession making him chuckle faintly before Lando steps in, bringing up the energy again.

“That’s alright man, we just want you to be happy!” Lando states as he throws an arm around Oscar's shoulder “Thanks, mate.” Oscar gratefully replies “Anything you want, we will understand-” Lando drunkenly and unnecessarily continues on before Logan sharply cuts him off, “I think he's got it, Lando.” Logan pats Landos back.

“And what I want” Oscar starts as he moves out from underneath Lando's arm, “is to go home and study. Alone. By myself. Just me and my playlist” Oscar clarifies to the two making sure they got the hint to which Logan quickly replies

“Yeah yeah, message received, get home safe dork.” He finishes as he ruffles Oscar's hair causing Oscar to let out a scoff and push him away as he replies “You too. Look out for him” He says as he throws his head in the direction of Lando who is already back to dancing before he turns around towards the exit.

Starting his journey through the perimeter of the club, Oscar narrowly avoids many drunk rando encounters, including an almost dangerous spill of some sort of brown liquor, before finally making it to the exit. 

Just as he was about to leave, he heard the familiar tune. Oscar would remember those opening notes from anywhere.

More so Oscar would remember who he was staring at when the notes first actually meant something to him.

Stopping directly in his tracks at the so-called fateful revelation he just had, Oscar made a quick and easy decision. He briskly turned around in his spot and swiftly made his way back through the bar area of the crowded club, passing all the same strangers from the first time, before eventually coming out on the other side, slightly out of breath.

Who knew navigating through a club was such a workout? 

Oscar immediately spotted Logan and Lando standing on the outer crowd of the dancefloor dancing weirdly, and he booked his way back over to them.

Slightly out of breath Oscar's pants as Logan exclaims towards him in confusion “Oscar? What are you doing here?”

Oscar goes to answer him but is quickly cut off by Lando also questioning “We thought you were going home?”

Rolling his eyes and still breathing hard from the fast walking, Oscar finally lets out a short “It's our song.”

Both of their faces stared back at him, scrunched in confusion, they didn't hear him over the blaring music, Lando obnoxiously yelled out in response “What?”

Oscar rolls his eyes yet again before yelling even louder this time “It’s me and Y/Ns song!”

This causes Lando to immediately gasp “Oh my god!” Lando yells in response as he starts jumping up and down “That has got to be a sign!” He excitedly starts hitting Logan repeatedly before he pushes him off, and starts asking Oscar in a wondering tone

“What do you mean by your guy's song? That’s very old-fashioned and almost out of date don't you think? Very not Oscar thing.” He asks raising his eyebrow, sort of caught off-guard that Oscar participated in something like that before continuing “I mean especially this song?”

Oscar briefly rolls his eyes before backing your guy's relationship up “Yea, Look, I always thought the same thing but she was always really into music and always so set on us finding a song. So I would always recommend some that made me think of her and everything but she always shot them down until one night we were out at a party, and it just clicked. And I got what she meant, every time I hear this song now I feel like I'm kind of transported to that night”

As the song continues playing around him he takes a couple of seconds to remember it clearly. 

FLASHBACK

“Come on Osc, don’t be such a party pooper!” Y/N exclaims towards the boy as she throws her hands in the air.

It was a Saturday night and you two were currently at a random classmate's house party standing closely at the drinks table. Oscar was in the middle of pouring her and him a random mixed drink as she continued to plead and beg at him.

She’s spent the last ten minutes of the party trying to corral Oscar onto the dancefloor with her. She kept claiming to him that she was in serious need of dancing but she refused to go out there alone and he refused to go with her.

While she loved to dance and would do it anywhere, anytime, to any music, Oscar very much was the opposite. He found it awkward and it always made him uncomfortable. For her, he would always try and every once in a while, she could get a little dance out of him, although most times he just avoided the question altogether.

But tonight didn't seem to be one of those nights.

As Oscar holds out the drink handing it to her, sipping on his own, she continues with her tangent “I just don't see why you won't just go out there with me at least for one song! That’s all I'm asking”

She takes the drink from his hand, offering a small thank you as she goes to drink it, her throat burning from the strong taste causing her nose to scrunch up. Oscar smiles a small smile at her before rebutting

“It’s just not my thing Y/N, you know that” He responds ever so nicely causing Y/N to let out a little, sad sigh “I know, I thought I would still at least try” She smiles dimly as she chugs the rest of her drink before smiling at him

“Welp! If you need me, I’ll be on the dancef loor” She states, leaning forward to him slightly as she finishes her statement, giggling slightly as he chuckles along with “Alright now, be safe out there” He states watching her make her way to the dancefloor.

And that’s where Oscar spends his next five minutes, chilling against a random wall, sipping a way too strong a drink he made as he watches her dancing around with some random girls she just met.

Every once in a while she would look over at him and smile brightly, almost asking if he wanted to join her, to which he'd always do a small head shake and smile back in response. He was perfectly fine by the wall.

That was until the opening chords to Mr. Brightside started.

At first, Oscar rolled his eyes, he honestly couldn't believe that they were whipping out Brightside at this random ass house party. He wasn’t new to this song, he’s heard it plenty of times at parties, but it was never anything special to him.

That was until he saw her lighting up on the dance floor, jumping around at the opening chords, he remembered once before how she told him what this song felt like for her, just pure happiness, and now watching her dance around to it out there, he finally gets what she meant. 

That's when Oscar realizes just how stupid he is for standing, leaning against a damn wall like a loser while his beautiful, amazing girlfriend is out there waiting to have fun with him.

He shakes his head at himself before quickly chugging the rest of his drink, throwing it into the trashcan, and making his way over to her on the dance floor. 

“Mind if I join?” Oscar asks the simple question as he lands right in front of Y/N in the middle of the crowd, once she realizes it is him her face immediately lit up, exclaiming happily

“Oscar! You’re here! Just in time, I love this song” She yells, jumping up and down in front of him as he bops along softly to the song

“Do you really? I never knew.” He states smiling brightly as he watches her dancing around to the song.

What can he say, she and Mr. Brightside go along together really well. 

Just as the pre-chorus was building she excitedly grabbed Oscar’s hands, still dancing around as she sang along to the chorus loudly “Jealousy, turning saints into the sea, swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis” Y/N laughs loudly leaning into Oscar slightly, catching her off guard as he also starts to yell along to the chorus,

“But it's just the price I pay! Destiny is calling me!” He enthusiastically moves his hand as if it is a microphone between the two of them as they both yell out the rest of the chorus

“Open up my eager eyes! Cause I’m Mr. Brightside” Y/N continuously laughs as she continues to dance around with Oscar to the song. 

She's never seen him like this, she wishes she could frame it on her wall and never lose this Oscar, he was perfect.

Staring at him with bright eyes she leans in slightly and yells out to him over the finishing song “Do you know what just happened?” Oscar curiously raises an eyebrow as he continues smiling at her, already enjoying what she's about to say.

“That just became our song” She blushes proudly as she does a little dance, happy that it happened to be Mr. Brightside of all songs.

Oscar laughs softly at her antics as he responds “I guess it did, I think I get it now.” He says as he gives her one last smile before leaning in quickly, pecking her on the lips, and continuing to dance around, both laughing hard.   

 “What a bummer man” Logan responds at the idea of Oscar feeling stuck in this song.

Again, Mr. Brightside of all choices? He did it to himself.

Until Lando abruptly shoves him to the side “No!” He states boldly, grabbing Oscar's shoulders, shaking them slightly as he gives his big speech of the night (this happens every time Lando drinks)

“This is what I call a sign Oscar. A sign from the world that you and this girl were meant to be. Please tell me, what are the odds that you run into Y/N at a random college club, let alone have your guy's song come on?” Silence overtakes the two, neither of them answering

“I'm for real Oscar, tell me the odds?!” Lando shouts shaking him harder, causing Oscar's eyebrows to knit in confusion, drunk Lando has lost him. “Lando, I don't know?” He states shrugging heavily before Landos yells at him again

“Exactly! Who the fuck knows and who the fuck cares! Go talk to the damn girl Oscar and make her fall in love with you again!” Lando finishes his tangent with a one-handed shove to Oscar, pushing him farther towards the dancefloor.

Oscar nods his head slowly feeling actually charged by Lando's speech, surprisingly, he's right.

Who cares, he messed up and he still misses you, why should he let this opportunity pass him when you're right there? Who knows when he’ll see you again? 

“You're right Lando.” Oscar admits “Damn right, I am!” Lando exclaims loudly at Oscar's revelation “Not too much now” Logan states again patting his shoulder and pulling him back slightly. Oscar rolls his eyes at the comment but continues

“I’m going to go find her and talk to her.” Oscar confidently states starting to walk away to the crowd as the two other boys cheer him on before Oscar quickly stops and turns back around to face the boys causing them to let out a series of disappointing, but not surprised ‘ooos’ and ‘awes’.

Oscar smiles sheepishly before clarifying “Or at least just say hi.” Oscar reasons with them, Logan and Lando nod along to that, agreeing with him as they continue to cheer him on, whooping and hollering again as he walks away “You get that girl!” “We’re proud of you Oscar!”   

Oscar chuckles to himself faintly as he makes his way back through the crowd once again, this time on a mission to find Y/N, especially before the song ends.

He thought it would take forever to be honest having to sift through all the people, but it didn't take him long to find her familiar blonde hair and smile.

I guess old habits die hard.

Once he spotted her he quickly made his way through the people, apologizing here and there before finally reaching her. He’s just lucky she had an empty pocket around her in the middle of the crowded club.

Oscar found himself standing directly behind her and after catching his breath for a second, he planned on tapping her shoulder. Well, if only he would just move.

He didn't know what was happening but he was frozen, just like plenty of times before, all his doubts were starting to creep in. He even started to wonder if he should just turn around and leave and he almost did

That was until somebody accidentally shoved the random guy standing right next to him causing him to slightly fall right into Y/N. 

Well, shit. No going back now. 

As soon as Y/N turned around her eyebrows immediately shot up and her mouth dropped open, and after about a second of stuttering she finally got out her question “Oscar?” Confusion and amazement all over her face before Oscar answers

“Y/N.” She immediately in return let out “Oh my god” To which Oscar couldn't help but agree “Oh my god is right”

As if she's double-checking a list of impossible things in her head she asks one last question “And Mr. Brightsides playing?” Oscar winces slightly but plays it off quickly “It is” Oscar responds sheepishly as the song continues to surround them, almost feeling louder now.

Did they turn the sound up in the club, or was it just Oscar? 

After a couple of seconds, maybe minutes of silence Oscar and Y/N accidently speak up at the same time “Hi.” “Hey” The two mumble over each other, unaware of how to go about the unfamiliar awkwardness

“Do you want to step outside?” Y/N asks as Oscar nods his head rapidly and shyly responds “Yeah, that would be nice” She gives him a final nod as well then loosely, takes his wrist in hand, and makes her way, leading the two of them through the busy crowd.

As the two of them walk through the club to get outside, Oscar sees a glimpse of Lando and Logan who happen to be throwing him the biggest smiles he’s ever seen with big thumbs up.

Rolling his eyes, he picks up his speed ever so slightly so they can get away from everyone faster, he hopes she didn’t notice them.

She didn't.

She was too caught up in the fact that she was currently guiding her long-time ex-boyfriend through a club so they could finally talk.

As the two of them finally make it out of the club they just stand there for a couple of seconds, the now very sudden silence filling in all the gaps.

Y/N makes a move and sits on the curb of the sidewalk outside the club, resting her head on her arms that are draped over her legs, taking in the silence outside. This isn't exactly where she imagined her night going.

At the need of wanting to stay close, Oscar swiftly follows her as he moves to sit right next to her on the curb, staring at the building lights that surround them before turning his head to stare at Y/N who was also enjoying the lights.

Oscar can’t help but let out the softest smile at the sight of the same girl he grew up right next to.

Feeling his eyes on her, Y/N turns her head to face him as he's staring at her, ready to start the conversation that's been hanging in the air “Oscar” She starts slowly “Y/N” He responds.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, or ever again really.” She sheepishly admits to him before continuing on “What brings you here tonight?” She asks, wanting to at least start a genuine conversation before she asks him why he broke her heart.

Caught slightly off guard by the casual question, Oscar answers “Uh, well I was actually studying for a big midterm I have coming up but my roommates, Logan and Lando called me here in an emergency.”

This causes Y/Ns face to immediately change from listening to concerned, knitting her eyebrows together, placing her hand softly on Oscar's arm, ready to console “Oh my god are they okay?”

He blushes at the contact before stuttering “Oh yeah they're fine, don’t worry about them. They just didn't want me studying on a weekend, they get weirdly concerned for me.” Oscar embarrassingly admits, making a puzzled face as he confesses his roommate's overbearing protection as Y/N giggles ever so slightly in response.

 “I didn’t know you went here.” She states boldly with slight confusion written all over her face, gesturing to the school campus surrounding them

“I mean I just never heard about it before when we were,... you know.” She awkwardly leads off, as he ineptly chuckles, rubbing his neck and explaining how he landed at this school

“Yeah I just figured I needed something completely new, try something out just for myself.” He finishes as he moves his vision from her to the road in front of them, feeling guilty for how he's sounding right now.

It's reminding him a lot of that night.

There are a couple more beats of silence before she decides to speak up “I get what you mean. That's why I chose this school too, a fresh restart, a chance to grow singularly.” She says with a slight smile

Oscar moves his vision back onto her, and smiles small at her, nodding along with her sentiments as he hears the growth in her letting out the smallest “Yeah.”

Maybe this time it can be different.

There are a couple of more beats of silence when they're just staring at each other before Y/N speaks up and finally asks the question 

“Why did we break up?”

He feels his eyes quickly become glassy at the sound of her frail voice, he looks down quickly at the floor, sniffling before looking back up at her and finally explaining himself

“I got scared. I was being a stupid teenage boy and I threw everything away because I thought that I would find something better out there. I was being selfish and I broke your heart, and I’m so sorry.” Oscar lets out a genuine confession as he watches her face contort to the information.

Eyes watering even more she lets out a small scoff before saying something he wasn't expecting “You weren't being stupid Oscar. And you especially weren't being selfish.”

Finishing with a sniffle, Oscar knits his eyebrows at the sound of this and opens his mouth to say something before Y/N continues

“You did the right thing. You actually did a very brave thing that I would’ve always been too afraid to do. I knew we had issues, and I knew the second I left your room that you were right. We did need time apart to grow individually, it fucking sucked, but you made the right call.” Y/N admits as she looks upon him with a small, sad smile

“I just wish you would have talked about it with me and we could have made the decision together but hey, it seemed to work out well for the two of us” She finishes with a watery laugh as he nods along.

“I know, I should have, and I'm sorry I didn't. I don't know why I felt like I had to do everything by myself. But you're right, it seemed to turn out well for us.” Oscar states

“That it did” She repeats back to him smiling softly at him as she leans back against her arms resting on her legs

Oscar smiles back as he looks down at her, he speaks again quietly, almost in a whisper “I’m sorry again, you didn't deserve that, I regret it every day knowing that I made you upset like that”

Y/N takes in his genuine face, eyes flitting all around before smiling small and responding with a “Thank you, Oscar, I appreciate it”

He just continues to smile at her in response for a little before turning his head back to building lights, soaking in the silence he gets to spend just sitting here with her.

After a couple more minutes Oscar turns back to her to find Y/N fighting to keep her eyes open as she stares around her. This causes Oscar to let out a small chuckle as he asks her

“Should I uh, walk you back to your dorm” This causes Y/N to close her eyes, nodding sleepily as she responds to his offer “That would actually be great, thank you”

He chuckles at her state as he stands up before sticking his hands out to Y/N to help her stand up which she easily obliges before asking her

“So where do you live?”     

[clockwayswrites]

A Hill to Die On ch2 (mostly)

ch1(ish) this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3

This is most of Chapter 21, cutting out the smut. IT DOES SPICY🌶️⚠️: alludes to smut the night before and blatant talk leading into more.

Tim wasn’t in his own bed. He wasn’t in his Manner bed either. He was pretty sure it also wasn’t the spare bed at Jason’s or Kon’s bed. It wasn’t Stephanie’s or Bart’s or one of the Titan Tower beds. No, this was a stranger’s bed. That should worry him, Tim knew that, but the worry didn’t come.

Instead of worry, Tim felt calm, pleasantly satiated, and sore.

Tim knew why.

Caroline clung to him, like the heavy remnants of a dream. She was right there, pressing against the back of his mind and assuring him that this was all fine. More than fine even; she was quite pleased.

Grudgingly, Tim opened his eyes and blinked up at the nondescript ceiling. Trying to remember what had happened last night was like watching through low resolution clips of time. Things were rather clear at the start and became less clear as time went on. But he very much understood why he was sore and just how much Caroline had enjoyed himself.

Tim was sure he was blushing an embarrassing amount as he carefully sat and swung his legs over the edge of the side of the bed. Yep, sore. Right, well. Tim cleared his throat as if that would also clear up his embarrassment. How was he supposed to act after sleeping with a complete stranger?

“I thought I heard you awake, gorgeous,” the guy—Danny, his name was Danny—drawled from behind Tim. “I know it’s not the right sort of thing for you, but I put some lounge pants and a shirt in the bathroom for you if you want to shower. Pancakes will be up in about fifteen or so, but take your time.”

“Ah, thanks, that’s nice of you,” Tim said.

He waited until he heard Danny walk back off to wherever the kitchen was before he got up and slipped into the bathroom. All of Caroline’s clothing had been folded into a neat pile, other than the lacy underwear, which were washed and drying on the towel rack. Which was rather sweet.

Tim added the bra to the pile, stretching out the feeling of having worn that all night.

Figuring out how to get the shower turned on and hot was a puzzle, showers always were, but Tim managed it smoothly enough. Danny’s shower actually got decently hot too, and Tim took advantage of that to stand under the spray and just try to center himself.

Should he pretend to be Caroline?

Should he come clean?

He didn’t know what was best… or safest.

But Danny was safe. Tim hated that the certainty of that lingered in his mind, but it did. Caroline was convinced that Danny was safe, at least in these regards. He supposed she must have to lingered like this and still be at Danny’s place in the morning. Tim took a deep breath, breathing in the citrus scent of Danny’s shampoo he as using, and let it out slowly.

Okay, truth it was.

The shower had washed away the last of Caroline, which meant it was only Tim standing in the kitchen, trying not to fidget. He was better than fidgeting, he had been a Robin. But he really wanted to right then as he waited for Danny to turn from the stove.

Danny dished up some bacon onto a plate and turned the stove off before turning. “Turkey bacon,” Danny explained with a little raise of the plate before he set it on the little table which was rather full, “and we have scrambled eggs and, of course, pancakes. Take a seat and dig in.”

“That all sounds great.” Tim didn’t move.

Danny tilted his head with a little frown. “Is everything alright? If, ah, this is too much it’s okay if you just want to leave. I don’t usually… do one nightstands so if I’m breaking some sort of taboo with this I’m sorry.”

“No,” Tim said quickly, “it’s not you, it’s me. Wow, not like that. Sorry. I guess I’m just a little awkward about this. I don’t really do this either. Well, that’s not—I don’t do this. I’m sorry, I’m making an absolute mess of this. I guess, just, okay. I guess I should start by saying you should call me Lin. I’m not… exactly Caroline right now.”

He wasn’t ‘Lin’ either, but no matter what Caroline thought he wasn’t going to give Danny his real name. He was too recognizable for that.

Danny sat down slowly in the chair closest to him. “Are you… not Caroline right now because of how you’re dressed or because you’re not Caroline because you’re someone else now?”

“Oh,” Tim wiggled a handy. “Both but more of the second?”

“Okay,” Danny said, his tone careful in a way that made Tim tilt his head curiously. “Are you… freaked out by waking up somewhere different? Do we need to talk about… anything that happened last night?”

“Oh, oh no,” Tim replied quickly. “I’m mostly aware of what happens when I’m Caroline. Besides I was sort of… in between when I woke up this morning. We’re good.”

Danny shoulder’s slumped and he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back. “Okay, good. I really didn’t want—because everything last night was very, enthusiastically consensual and—”

“We’re good, really,” Tim reassured Danny. It was actually pretty sweet how worked up Danny was about this. “Caroline didn’t do anything—okay, well she does it more freely than me, but, ah, let’s just say we’re in agreement about you.”

Danny looked surprised before a frankly adorable smile curled his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, though maybe don’t get too smug about it,” Tim said with a little shrug and finally took a seat at the table. “I never said either of us had good taste.”

Danny’s surprised laughter was a nice sound. “Don’t worry, I know I’m not hot stuff. The attention is still flattering. I spent most of the night not sure how I ended up with Caroline in my bed.”

Tim rested his chin on his hand, watching Danny curiously. “Even though she’s not what she looks like?”

“Like I said last night, any combination of bits is a good combination.”

“That usually doesn’t mean… personalities,” Tim pointed out.

Danny just gave a little shrug. “Nope. But as long as I haven’t hurt her, or you, then I don’t mind this either. Is it different? Sure. And it has me curious about things, but I’m curious by nature.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Tim quipped.

“But boredom killed it quicker,” Danny replied, finishing the verse.

It was Tim’s turn to smile. “I can’t say I’ll want to or can answer everything, but you can feel free to ask a few questions.”

After a considering noise, Danny took a few bites of breakfast as he obviously thought about what to ask. “So since you know things that happened as Caroline, does that mean you have the same preferences about things?”

“Nope. Caroline’s go to drink is a martini. I like whiskey better,” Tim said, thinking to last night. “Or she likes eggs that are runny but I hate that.”

“Huh, okay. Does that keep going to more serious things too?”

Tim tilted his head and took a bite of the rolled up pancake he had just buttered. As far as morning after breakfasts went, this was pretty nice. “Serious like what?”

“Well, like, last night. Take… a blow job. How would Caroline like one?”

“She wouldn’t,” Tim said easily. “She might give one, but mostly to get someone worked up to fuck her.”

Danny chuckled, a low sound that made Tim want to lean in closer to where Danny lounged in the other chair. “Okay. So you know that pretty easily. But what about you? What about Lin?”

Tim tilted his head. “Lin, I mean I like blow jobs, yeah.”

At least he was pretty sure he did. He didn’t do this sort of thing much as him.

Danny smiled like he was amused. “Okay. And any preference? Leaning against a wall? Pressing me against a wall? In bed? Sitting on the couch. Right here in the kitchen with your legs thrown over my shoulders?”

Tim swallowed reflexively. If Tim was Alvin right then, he’d want Danny on his knees, back pressed against the wall while Alvin held his jaw open and fucked his face. But for Tim… “That last one, please.”

“Please as in now?” Danny asked.

“Yes, please,” Tim said, the words much more blatant begging than he had intended.

“Okay, sweetheart.” Danny drawled the pet name in a slow, easy way that reminded Tim of whipped honey. “But you gotta be good for me and let me hear you.”

-

[Smut goes here. Tim has a very good time.]

-

“No pressure, but here’s my number,” Danny said. He was holding out an actual slip of paper folded in half. He ducked his head a little. “You know, if you or Caroline or you and Caroline want to reach out.”

Tim took the slip of scrap paper, the back of some cut up sales sheet and tapped it against his fingers. “You’d want to hear from both of us?”

“Yes, of course! As long as that won’t cause any issues between you and Caroline. And, I mean, obviously I’d like a heads up who I was talking to,” he said with a shy, crooked smile.

It made Tim give a little laugh. “I bet, it would get real confusing otherwise. I can get another number for her and use it through an app. It keeps everything nice and separate for all of us.”

“Yeah? That sounds good,” Danny agreed. “And you’re sure you don’t want me to get you a cab or walk you to the station?”

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine. I’ve been running around Gotham my whole life.” Or close enough, anyways. “Besides, one of Caroline’s bracelets is a low level tazer.”

“Really? But to fit all of that in—sorry, off topic,” Danny said sheepishly. He leaned in and kissed Tim lightly on the edge of his lips. “Thank you for staying, and telling me who you were.”

“Thanks for being so great about,” Tim said. He stole a quick kiss himself before he slipped out the door. He was too tired for things to descend into another round of sex, not matter the position.

Just before he got outside Danny’s apartment building, he took the time to put Danny’s number in his phone and sent of a quick ‘and thank you for the pancakes’.

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

Hey eli success story, there’s this guy he’s an influencer, a YouTuber, and literally every girl in our area has a crush on him. I mean, it’s not their fault, he’s so cute and hot at the same time. Anyway, I decided to manifest him and revise the fact that he’s an influencer.

About a week later, his videos stopped showing up on my feed. When I searched for his name, nothing came up, and I was like, 'So it’s working!'

Two days later, I went to a cafe with my friends. I was going to reapply my lip gloss but didn’t have a mirror. There was a car parked beside us, so I started using its window as a mirror. What I didn’t realize was that there were people inside the car because I was busy talking to my friend. Suddenly, the car window rolled down, and it was HIM. I just froze 🧍🏻. My friend grabbed my hand, and we ran away from there 😭. Later, we went inside the cafe. After some time, he walked in with his friends. I tried to act cool and mysterious by ignoring him, and they ended up sitting at the table beside ours. After a while, I went to the washroom, and when I came out, he was waiting outside. That guy told me he had never seen a girl as pretty as me and asked if he could know my name. I told him, and he smiled before walking away. A little while later, I got a notification saying he had followed me. When I checked his profile, it no longer had 300k followers just about 213 followers. Even his name had changed. I was like, 'This stuff works!

And sorry for my bad english and ik its a bit long.

Guys manifestion works like you control everything 🥹

GIRL DJFBFKBFNF EVERYTIME YALL SENDING ME SUCCESS STORIES MAKES MY DAY BETTER!😭💗

AN ATTRACTIVE INFLUENCER?? AND A YOUTUBER? EXCUSE ME?? GIRL YOU ATE🗣️💥

And this is soo great! I'm happy for you!

See how much powerful you are? You can do it if you believe it is possible!

THANKS FOR SENDING ME YOUR BEAUTIFUL SUCCESS STORY! ENJOY!😚🎀

Xoxo, Eli

[elyxir1zz]

★ — Between the lines - sober part 1

CW : meanie sevika, artist reader, hockey player vi and sevika, modern au, highschool shenanigans, fluff?

A/N : i felt the diffrence between part one and part 2 of between the lines was a little odd, so i went back and made part one enjoyable

Summary : star hocky player sevika has to take an art glass in order to graduate from highschool, fate assigns her to the same class as you and her rival

Sevika hated this. She was on the cusp of graduation, the last semester of her senior year of high school. Things were supposed to go smoothly from here. She had a hockey scholarship to college, the promise of leaving this place for something bigger and better. The first day back after Christmas break, she had a meeting with her counselor to talk about her future. She had walked into that office on her high horse, confident and smug, until the bomb had been dropped by the counselor.

"Sevika, you haven't taken any art classes at all."

Her eyes went wide, and the panic seeped into her usually steady voice. "What? Of course, I have. I mean, my freshman year, maybe? Probably?" She sat straight, reasoning.

The counselor's face was calm but firm. "It's okay. We can fix this. You can take an art class this semester, and as long as you pass, you'll be good to graduate."

Sevika forced a smile. It's art. Easy peasy. She could do that. It's just a bunch of wusses coloring, right?

Meanwhile, you sat in your car, taking a deep breath before stepping out into the cold January air. You rubbed your hands together and sighed, bracing yourself. Junior year wasn't easy, but art class was your sanctuary. You'd known since the sixth grade that art was your calling. Anytime your schedule had an open spot, you filled it with an art class, no matter how repetitive it got.

The chatter of the hallways hit you like a wave, slapping you in the face the moment you stepped inside. You groaned, instinctively pressing your hands over your ears. These halls were full of loud, obnoxious assholes that made you want to turn right back out into the cold. But you didn't. You'd made it this far already.

As you approached your locker, you immediately noticed the problem. Two people were making out in front of it, effectively blocking your way. You stopped, narrowing your eyes in annoyance.

"Um, excuse me?" you said softly, hoping they'd move.

The taller one barely glanced at you, still holding the other girl close. "Sorry, babe, I'm busy," she said dismissively.

You recognized her instantly. Sevika. The school's star hockey player and notorious troublemaker.

You bit your jaw in annoyance, but you weren't going to back down. Everyone else might have walked away to avoid her wrath, but you weren't like everyone else. "Dude, move," you said louder this time and stood your ground.

Before Sevika could say anything in response, another voice cut in. "Hey! Move it.

All three of you turned to look. Violet, another hockey player and Sevika's arch-nemesis, was striding toward you. Her arms were crossed, her expression daring Sevika to push back.

Sevika's lips curled into a sneer, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she threw her arm around the girl's shoulders and rolled her eyes. "Don't make me ask again," Vi said, her tone laced with warning.

Sevika clicked her tongue in irritation but moved aside. "Come on," she said to the girl, turning away without another word.

You breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Vi. "Thanks, Vi," you said, opening your locker.

"No problem," she returned casually, leaning against the locker next to yours. Then, her face turned into a mischievous one. "Guess what?"

"What?" you asked, digging through your locker.

She handed you a piece of paper. You looked at it curiously. "What's this?"

"My schedule," she replied with a smirk.

Your eyes ran down the paper until they stopped at one thing that caused you to freeze. "We have fifth-period art together?"

Vi smirked. "Yup. Makes your favorite class even better, doesn't it? You know, 'cause I'm there.

You cocked an eyebrow, pretending to consider. "Actually, it might put a dull on it," you teased, hardly containing your grin.

Vi chuckled. "Deny it all you want, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes at the nickname. "Bye, Violet," you said, shutting your locker and heading toward your first class.

Vi watched you leave, her smirk melting into a more sincere curve. She couldn't help it; that bubbling feeling in her chest was there every time she spoke with him. He was just so good-looking and smart and talented. She shook her head as if to snap out of it, but the feeling clung on.

"Pow!" A voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Vi turned to see her sister, Jinx, standing with that mischievous grin.

“Oh,” Vi said, caught off guard. “Hey, Jinx.”

Jinx crossed her arms, her grin widening. “You’re so mindlessly in love with her, it’s sad.”

“Ha ha,” Vi said dryly, starting to walk toward her class. Jinx fell into step beside her.

“I’m serious,” Jinx said bluntly, earning an eye-roll from her sister.

Meanwhile, Sevika tried to get back into her groove with the girl she'd been making out with, but something was off. The usual excitement just wasn't there.

"Sevika?" the girl asked, leaning her head up toward her. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry," Sevika said, pulling back. "I, uh, need to go. My hockey scholarship doesn't allow me to be late."

The girl pouted, tugging at her to try and pull her back. "Are you sure? We could just…"

"I gotta go," Sevika said firmly, already walking away.

As she walked away, your face kept flashing before her mind's eye. You were so annoying: always standing up to her, always so confident. And yet, she couldn't get you out of her head. It was infuriating. You were such a waste of a pretty face. Not that she'd ever say that to you. No way. And worse, you seemed to have some weird effect on her that she couldn't shake.

Foolish, she chided herself, pushing her hands into her jacket pockets. But the more she tried to ignore it, the more persistent the thought of you became.

—

You sigh, doodling on your paper with your head resting in your hand. The bell brings you out of your thoughts. You blink, starting to pack up.

"Remember your welcome back essay is due on Friday!" the teacher yelled.

Everyone groans, including you. You hate writing; just when you start to write your mind goes all mushy. Sighing, you throw your bag over your shoulder and take off for the last class of the day-the class you absolutely love: Art.

Your face flushes with the thought of how Vi must have gone out of her way to spend time with you. Of course, you liked her, she was so funny and strong, and there was something magnetic about her energy that you just couldn't help but feel drawn to.

You enter the art room and notice you are one of the first people to arrive. You pull out your pocket sketchbook and flip through its pages of old doodles while thinking of something new to draw. Letting out another sigh, you gaze off into space until you hear your name being called.

It's Mr. Wilson, that teacher you love, and he's been running this art department as long as you can remember. He always had this infectious passion for art. "Glad you're taking this class again," he says with a warm smile.

"Good to see you too," you say softly, looking up at him.

"I need to talk to you after class," he says in a rush. Noting the look of confusion on your face, he hastens to add, "Don't worry, you're not in trouble."

Not waiting for your response, he dives into a boisterous retelling of his disastrous ski trip with his husband over winter break. You nod along, though you've started zoning out by the time Vi strolls in.

She zeroes in on you in an instant, the smile spreading across her face as she heads toward your table. Sliding into the seat next to you, she leans in playfully.

The room fills up quickly and the final bell rings; Mr. Wilson begins to go over the syllabus. You tune most of it out, since you've taken this class more times than you can count. Instead, you look around the room: there's a few people you recognize, a few people you don't, and-

Your eyes narrow as they lock on a familiar figure, standing in the corner: Sevika.

You look away quickly, sitting up straighter, attempting to focus on Mr. Wilson. Maybe if you pretend she's not there, she'll stay out of your orbit.

"There's a student you all should know," Mr. Wilson says suddenly, catching you off guard.

Your stomach drops as he says your name out loud. "She has taken this class at least three times and passed with flying colors each time. She's who you should look up to."

Your cheeks flare red hot as the attention of the room shifts to you. You glance down toward your desk, trying not to meet their gaze. You notice in the corner of your eye that Vi is smirking at your embarrassment.

Sevika looks annoyed. Her eyes remain on you, and you can almost hear her thinking. Why is she here?

"Sevika!" Mr. Wilson's voice startles her out of her trance.

"Uh—yes?" she says, straightening up.

"I think you'd benefit from sitting next to one of my more experienced students." He motions to the empty seat on your other side.

Sevika groans loudly, the scuffling of her feet carrying her to the seat beside you.

"Goddamnit," you mutter under your breath, your head sinking lower.

Vi's face sours at the sight of Sevika getting settled in. Her jaw clenches and her fists ball a little. "Great," she says in a false tone, loud enough for Sevika to hear.

"Oh?" Sevika returns, twisting towards Vi with an arched eyebrow.

You, sandwiched between the two, can feel the tension radiating off them. They exchange glares, and you bury your head in your hands, wishing you were anywhere else.

The room goes silent as the teacher clears his throat. "Anyway, for the first project of the semester, we'll be doing a watercolor landscape."

Sevika snorts. "Too easy," she mutters under her breath.

Vi leans over to you. "Is this hard?"

You hesitate. "I mean, when I did it for the first time, it wasn't. But…it's different for everyone," you whisper back.

"It's watercolor," Sevika interjects. "We did this in grade school."

Vi's voice is venomous. "Nobody asked for your opinion."

"Don't," you whisper urgently, hoping to head off an explosion before it gets out of hand.

Sevika smirks, leaning back in her chair. "Yeah, listen to your bitch.

Before you can even register what's happening, Vi's already risen. She punches Sevika, who slams to the floor. Chaos breaks out in the room as they both wrestle on the ground, punching at each other.

"Okay! Okay!" Mr. Wilson screams, running up and pulling them off each other.

The fight ends with a black eye given to Vi and a bleeding nose on Sevika. "The three of you-to the office!"

You numb, your heart shocked. "Wh-what?" Your voice quavers.

"I said go," Mr. Wilson says firmly.

Now in the principal's office you're wedged once again between Vi and Sevika. Vi has an ice pack pressed to her eye, and Sevika keeps dabbing her nose with a tissue.

This is unacceptable!" the principal yells, pacing back and forth. "I don't know what to do with you two. I- I mean, I give you detention, and then I put you in the same class?" He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"See, that was your first mistake. Putting this ogre in the same class as me," Vi snaps, leaning forward.

"Ogre?! I'll show you ogre," Sevika growls, leaning toward Vi.

"Enough!" the principal yells, silencing them both “im putting you both in after school detention for the rest of the week.”

Turning to you, he sighs. "You—one day of after-school detention."

Your eyes widen as panic sets in. "Oh my god—I've never been in trouble before!" you stammer, your breaths quickening.

"Calm down, prissy," Sevika mutters, rolling her eyes.

"Out of my office. All of you. Go straight to detention. No goofing off," the principal orders, waving you away.

"I can't believe I'm in detention because of you!" you yell at Sevika as the three of you walk down the hall.

"Because of me?! Why don't you blame your girlfriend? She's the one who attacked me!" Sevika fires back, glancing down at you.

"She's not my girlfriend!" you shout, your voice echoing slightly.

Vi's steps falter for a moment. She looks away, her expression tightening as a pang of hurt flickers across her face.

You look around for a second, taking another path. "Where are you going? Detention is this way," Vi asks, her voice unsure.

Sevika doesn't care; she just rolls her eyes and keeps going.

"I'm going to see if I can work on my art project during detention. I'll meet you there," you mutter, heading in the opposite direction.

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, pushing the door to the art room open. The anger on your face is impossible to hide.

"Mr. Wilson," you say, your voice clipped.

He looks up from his desk and smiles, completely oblivious. "How'd it go?

You narrow your eyes. "I have detention," you hiss, crossing your arms.

"How long? A week?" he asks with a completely casual note, not looking up from his paper.

"One day."

At this he does glance at you finally. "Just a day? That is not bad at all!"

"Do you understand that it can go on my permanent record? Mess up my chances of ever going to college?" you snap, taking one step closer toward his desk.

“A day of detention? You'll be fine," he says dismissively, his focus shifting back to his work.

"Whatever." You rub your forehead in frustration. "Can I at least work on my project in detention?"

"An artistic delinquent?" he smirks, grabbing a thick sheet of paper and handing it to you. "How poetic."

"Don't start," you mutter, snatching the paper and turning to leave.

"Don't get into trouble!" he calls after you.

"Ha ha," you mutter under your breath, hurrying back toward detention.

The monitor at the detention room barely looks up as you step inside. "You're late."

"I know—I'm sorry—"

"I don't care. Sit down."

You scan the room. Sevika is slouched in a corner seat, and Vi has situated herself as far away from her as possible. You walk over to Vi and sit down beside her.

“You're here for the next hour, and I hope you reflect on your actions," the monitor drones before plopping down at his desk. Almost immediately, he rests his head on his folded arms.

"Is he sleeping?" you whisper, leaning toward Vi.

"Shh." Vi raises a finger to your lips. "Give it a minute," she whispers back.

Sure enough, in a few minutes, soft snores fill the room. You look sideways at Vi and raise an eyebrow.

"I know," she says, with a roll of her eyes.

You pull your pencil bag out and begin drawing your watercolor landscape. "I'm mad at you," you say quietly.

"Why?" Vi's voice softens with concern.

You give her a pointed glance, and the words catch in her throat.

“I'm sorry. No one should talk about you like that," she mutters after a moment, looking at you.

"I can fight my own battles," you reply, leaning forward slightly.

"It seemed like you were just going to let her say that about you," Vi argues, her gaze flickering toward Sevika for a moment.

Meanwhile, Sevika's leaned back in her chair, face hidden behind a book as if napping. She's actually listening in on your conversation. She hadn't intended the comment to insult you-it was meant to get a rise out of Vi-but a twinge of guilt starts to settle into her chest. Not that she'd ever say that out loud.

Eventually, she actually falls asleep, and before she knows it, the hour's up.

sevika stirs awake, and she stood up, rubbing her eyes, to grab her bag. As she adjusts the strap, her gaze falls to your sketch. It's beautiful, bursting with intricate detail and care.

You quickly slide it into your bag as the others begin to leave.

"You need a ride?" you ask Vi, looking over at her.

Vi just shakes her head. "I gotta run a couple of errands. I can just take the bus." She gives a warm smile, leaning in and briefly cupping your cheek. "You're such a sweetheart." And with that, she hastens off, trying to catch the next city bus, leaving you well and truly alone with Sevika.

"She likes you," Sevika says as the silence is finally broken and she draws closer to you.

You say nothing, instead tucking things away into your bag.

Sevika steps closer, standing behind you. "Listen," she starts, hesitating. "That comment earlier…" She exhales sharply, clearly uncomfortable. "I didn't mean to drag you into my fight with Vi."

You glance at her, surprised, your gaze softening as her words sink in.

"If anyone gives you trouble," she goes on, much more confident now, "come to me. Not your pipsqueak of a girlfriend.

You open your mouth to protest, "She's not—" but Sevika cuts you off, walking out of the room before you can finish.

You stand there for a moment, stunned.

Did she just…apologize?

[gumii-bearr]

❝ not even a little ❞

summary: megumi fushiguro is your roommate, he's also a scary guy... a scary guy that's weak for you.

featuring... megumi fushiguro

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, roommate!megumi, angst, fluff!!, alcohol, vomiting (from being so drunk), mentions of weed, hangovers, reader cries a few times, slow burn ish, these two are pissing me off, smut, dirty talk, cunnilingus, blowjobs, handjobs, fingering, cum eating, virginity loss (?), mentions of a cheating ex (there is Hana slander im sorry), emotionally stunted megumi, swearing, megumi is so bad at feelings oh my god, ozawa x yuji mentions

word count: 13.8k

author's note: MEOW– guys i been working hard on this FUCKER!

You’re pretty sure he hates you.

Your new roommate, that is. 

“Fushiguro, right?” You led with friendliness, hoping to win him over with your charming personality and half the share of the rent. But he was beyond intimidating, standing at the front door, eyes slanted and harsh with boredom. His hair was messy but it almost seemed intentional with how much it complimented and framed his angular face.

He was gorgeous.

Yuko had neglected to tell you just how attractive your new roommate would be when she sent you the address the day before. Though, it made sense that she wouldn’t notice since she’s dating Itadori, not his old roommate.

He looked you up and down as you stood at his front door, a nervous smile twinging at your lips as an awkward tension consumed you. Though he didn’t seem overly bothered by the awkwardness, simply humming in acknowledgement of his name before standing aside to let you into his apartment.

It was nice; very organised for a guy, you thought. He wordlessly led you to your new room, which was Yuji’s old room, and gave you the rundown of the rent and utilities while you tried to not melt at the deep smoothness of his voice.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

“You didn’t tell me he was hot, Ozawa,” you grumble as you tighten the group head into the coffee machine. It’s quiet in the cafe that day, just you and Yuko behind the counter trying to shake off your lack of sleep with iced coffees and fries from the stainless steel bowl sitting at the kitchen window. The line chef doesn’t care that you’re stealing the fries, too busy scrolling on his phone and attempting to blink away his hangover.

Yuko takes a sip of her coffee, her brows knit in confusion, “who?”

“Fushiguro,” you clarify, pressing buttons on the coffee machine.

Yuko was your friend from high school and she was the one that hooked you up with the apartment. All she told you was that he was Yuji’s best friend and old roommate before she and Yuji moved in together. She told you he was in his second year of college, he needed help with the rent and that he was a nice guy.

“You told me he was nice, too.”

“Fushiguro is nice,” Yuko retorts, restocking the paper cups next to the coffee machine.

You give her a look, “nice my ass.”

“You just said he was hot!” she laughs at that, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“You can be hot and mean at the same time, they’re not mutually exclusive.”

“Mm,” she hums, “sounds like your type.”

“Rude,” you mutter.

The bell above the door dings, your eyes peeking over the coffee machine to spot Yuji walking in with a wide smile, “hi baby!”

Yuko grins, “Hey, Yuji.” She leans over the counter, allowing Yuji to press a kiss against her cheek with a loud muah!

“What’s up?” Yuji asks curiously, letting his chin rest in his own palm.

“Y/N was just telling me about her first night in her new place,” Yuko replies.

“Ooh!” Yuji sings.

“She said he’s hot,” Yuko giggles.

A big smile spills across Yuji’s face and he teasingly wiggles his brows, “you got a crush?”

“No,” you say defensively. “I don’t even know him.”

“You can crush on someone and not know them,” Yuji shrugs.

“I don’t think you can.”

Yuji tuts, “ah-ah! Jennifer Lawrence, I don’t know her, but I have a crush on her.”

You look to Yuko, “you gonna let him say that?”

Yuko shrugs sheepishly, “I have a crush on her too so I think it’s okay.”

Yuji points at her, “see?”

You just playfully roll your eyes, “but seriously… What's the secret? Cus I think he already wants me to move out.”

“Fushiguro just takes time to warm up to people,” Yuji explains. “Just give it time.”

You wonder how long it’ll take for him to warm up to you. You’re a friendly person and you’re pretty bubbly but he just intimidates the hell out of you. But his apartment was way nicer than any of the other apartments near campus. And bonus points because the rent was rather cheap compared to other places you’d seen. So you can’t screw this up.

But again, you’re pretty sure he hated you.

He was always grumbling around and seemed to get annoyed when you would put the dishes away in the wrong spots (though he never outright told you this). And he seemed to get annoyed when you were in a shared space, either sitting down on the floor in front of the TV to study or at the kitchen counter with your textbooks strewn about. 

But no way in hell were you going to poke the bear and ask him if he hated you.

Because Megumi Fushiguro was a scary guy.

You think you’ve screwed yourself when Megumi makes a bee-line for you a few weeks later.

You’re sitting at your desk in your room with the door slightly open. You’re focused on the essay you’re trying to edit but it’s hard to ignore the dark and brooding cloud that is Megumi Fushiguro.

“You touch my shit?” He asks. It doesn’t sound mean or accusing but just the depth of his voice alone makes you nervous.

“Huh?” You squeak out, eyes shifting nervously.

“My clothes,” he holds out a folded shirt for emphasis, his other hand holding your door frame (and jesus christ his muscles look so good).

Fuck.

You gulp, “u-uh, yeah, I did. I needed more darks so I just… used some of yours…”

Megumi just stares at you, steely eyes narrow and harsh.

You smile sheepishly, though it’s not really a smile, more of a nervous twitch in your lips, “I’m sorry–”

“Just,” Megumi starts before he sighs, “don’t touch my shit.”

You nod quickly, “right. I’m sorry.”

It’s funny. 

You’ve only been here for a few weeks and Megumi is growing more and more frustrated by you. 

How you always manage to be there when he’s trying to use the shower or the kitchen or do his laundry. He realises the irony given you’re his fucking roommate but he can’t cope with this shit.

He finds himself staring when you walk around in tiny shorts and tight tank tops. Or when you slink down the hallway wrapped in a towel like he can’t see you. Or when you stretch your arms above your head while you’re studying, your shirt riding up and giving him the perfect few of your tummy–

Megumi stands outside the bathroom door, towel and a change of clothes in hand. 

He knew girls took a while in the shower but this? You’d been in there for around fifteen minutes, the shower running and your music playing softly from inside. Megumi and Yuji used to function fine with one bathroom between the two of them, but sharing with you, a girl, proved to be a little different.

“M’so sorry,” you squeak as you pull the door open, your hair wet and combed back, your face free of your usual makeup. 

“S’fine,” Megumi murmurs. 

You quickly duck your head and slink away and Megumi just fucking stares. His breath gets caught in his throat at the sight of your towel pulled tight around your body, giving him a perfect view of the outline of your ass. His eyes raked over your bare shoulders and he almost felt dizzy at the lingering smell of your strawberry scented shampoo.

Megumi coughed into his fist, feeling a certain stiffness in his pants making itself known. It’d been a while since he got laid so he’d just deal with it using a cold shower and thinking about violent video games or something.

You’re finding you have the same problem.

You feel your face flush when he comes home from the gym in compression shirts and sweatpants, an earbud stuck in his ear and his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. And you just sit there in the living room gawking like an idiot as he mumbles an annoyed ‘hey’ then proceeds to ignore you the rest of the night.

He’s caught you staring a few times, especially when you’re waiting for him to get out of the shower so you can use the bathroom and he emerges wrapped in nothing but a towel, his hair dripping water down his pale chest.

And you totally check him out before slapping a hand over your eyes, cheeks flushed as you squeak out an embarrassed, “sorry!”

He just rolls his eyes with a huff and disappears into his room, leaving you to bang your head against the wall because you’re so dumb.

Yuji was right, you do have a crush.

It’s truly a tragic predicament because he seems to have no interest in you. He barely acknowledges you, humming when you greet him and brushing past you when you’re using a shared space at the same time. It’s almost as if he’s actively avoiding you.

“I made you a coffee,” you’re trying to break the ice somehow because Megumi is so unbelievably unreadable that it hurts.

Megumi looks at you, half-lidded eyes tired and bored as he studies your nervous expression. You place the mug of hot coffee on the counter next to his set up of textbooks, notebooks, pens and his laptop.

You fiddle with your hands, “it’s just coffee and milk, I didn’t know if you wanted sugar–”

“Thanks,” he simply says, nodding with a tight-lipped smile before sticking his earbud back in his ear.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment before you awkwardly shuffle off to your room. Completely missing how Megumi watches you leave.

Once midterms roll around, Megumi disappears off the face of the earth. You don’t see him for weeks because he’s either cooped up in his room or he stays late on campus and you hear him get home at stupid hours of the night.

The next time you see him is at a party.

The frat house you’re at is packed with college students all at varying stages of drunkenness. You’ve maybe had half a drink, deciding to hide away in the kitchen and people-watch. Yuji and Yuko convinced you to come along since midterms were over and the stress swallowing the entire college campus had seemed to somewhat dissipate. 

One party wouldn’t hurt. 

“Yooo! Y/N you made it!” Yuji exclaims, an arm thrown around Yuko’s shoulders, the two of them clutching red plastic cups full of some mysteriously coloured alcohol. 

“Yeah, I thought I’d try and make some friends,” you reply as Yuko hands you a drink.

“Damn, then what are we?” Yuji’s teases, gesturing between himself and Yuko.

You roll your eyes playfully, “more friends, Itadori,” you clarify.

Yuji was a guy that was easy to get along with, always making friends no matter where he went. You became fast friends with Yuji after he and Yuko started dating since you were instrumental in convincing Yuko to give her number to him way back when.

“You and Fushiguro friends yet?” Yuko asked curiously, slightly yelling over the music.

You grit your teeth, “don’t think so. I put the dishes away wrong once and I think he’s hated me ever since.”

Yuji blows a raspberry, “yeah right, you should try and talk to him tonight, maybe hit on him, hm?” Yuji wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“Why tonight?” You ask curiously.

“Cus he looks lonely,” Yuji points to the other end of the room.

You follow his finger and spot that familiar mop of messy black hair rather quickly. He’s leaning against the wall cradling a drink and damn he looks good in the black shirt he’s wearing, allowing you to totally check out and gawk at his lean muscular arms. He looks beyond bored, his steely blue eyes scanning the crowd with complete disinterest.

You didn’t even know he was coming to this thing and now you’re suddenly motivated to stay.

You gulp down the lump in your throat before squeezing the plastic cup of whatever the fuck in your hand. You lift it to your lips and chuck it back, the bitter alcohol burning your throat on the way down. 

“Atta girl!” Yuji exclaims, “go get your man!”

“You’re for the girls, you know that, Yuji?” You grin.

“I’ve been told,” he beams happily. 

You take Yuko’s drink off her and quickly throw hers back too, needing some liquid courage to get you over there because at least if you say something stupid, you can blame it on the alcohol. 

“Okay, maybe don’t overdo it,” Yuko pats your shoulder.

You take in a breath before nodding and squeezing past your friends, making your way toward your roommate. You didn’t even know he would be at this party, that’s how little you talk to one another. Yet you find yourself getting nervous and stupid around him. 

You’re barely five meters away from him when you stop dead in your tracks.

A blonde girl approaches Megumi, her shoulder bumping his as she leans against the wall next to him. He eyes her before taking a sip of his drink. You don’t hear what she says but he seems vaguely amused by it and you find yourself almost jealous that some random girl managed to get more emotion out of Megumi in the last two seconds than you have in the past two months.

Your heart thumps in your chest and you suddenly feel small and ridiculous. You clear your throat and quickly spin on your heel, heart thumping in your ears as you pick up another drink of whatever crazy jungle juice they’re serving at this frat party and chuck it back. 

He doesn’t even know it and he just crushed your spirit. 

“Uh oh,” Yuji grits his teeth.

“Why’s she coming back?” Yuko asks Yuji.

“I’m going to stand on a highway,” you grin maniacally. Yuko and Yuji peer behind you and spot the same blonde girl talking to Megumi, only this time she’s turned toward him, giving him her undivided attention as she yaps on about something. Megumi still seems vaguely uninterested but he nods along slowly.

“Yikes,” Yuji cringes, “not him talking to his ex.”

“Ex?” you squeak out.

Yuko nudges Yuji’s shoulder, giving him a ‘what the fuck, bro?’ look. Yuji quickly stammers, “I-I mean, they’ve been broken up for like two years, there’s nothing there.”

You don’t believe him for a second because it certainly didn’t look like nothing. You peek back over your shoulder and watch as Megumi chugs the rest of his drink and leaves, the blonde girl trailing behind him. Great, they’re gonna go have sex and you’re stuck having a crush on your roommate who will probably kick you out when he gets back with her. 

Great.

Great.

You turn back to Yuji and Yuko with a wide-eyed nervous smile.

Yuji grits his teeth, “you okay, Y/N?”

You squeak, “mhm, so good!”

Yuko and Yuji share a look with each other before Yuko sighs, “he’s not worth it anyway, you’re a catch, if he can’t see it then he’s stupid.”

You know she’s trying to make you feel better and you’re a relatively confident person, but when you start to crush on someone and they don’t offer any kind of reciprocation for your feelings, you start to feel a little… not so confident. 

Yuko and Yuji try to make you feel better, introducing you to their other friend Nobara who is much more aggressive in her pep talk.

“You’re a hot, sexy mama!” Nobara shakes your shoulders, her speech slurred slightly. “Who cares about that emo hoe anyway!”

You want to laugh but she honestly kind of scares you.

“You gotta get laid by some other guy! A hot guy!” Nobara hiccups, taking another swig from her cup. “Maybe fuck your ex or something! Or, or, or! Fuck one of Fushiguro’s classmates!”

“Uh, I don’t think losing my virginity at a party is exactly ideal,” you reply.

Nobara’s eyes bulge out of her head, “you’re a virgin!?” She says it so loud that a few heads turn and you shush her quickly.

“Tell the whole campus why don’t you?” You scold in a hushed tone.

“You’re hot though, babe,” she hiccups again. “You could pull anyone!”

“Funny.”

“I’m serious!”

You let loose after that, deciding to drink and do shots to avoid thinking about Megumi as if you don’t keep looking for him all night. You’re always peeking over your shoulder, searching for him in the crowd and flat out ignoring the guys Nobara and Yuko attempt to introduce you to. 

You’re not interested in the pre-med students or the business students or whatever the fuck.

You’re more interested in the tall, lean, handsome vet student who happens to be your roommate and who you haven’t seen all night.

After many more rounds of shots, a game of beer pong and poorly deciding to bet Yuji you could drink him under the table; you’re so drunk. You stumble around the party, hanging off Yuji, Nobara and Yuko since they are clearly equally as drunk as you with how they encourage your behaviour. 

Your head is fucking spinning and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

You stumble around the house, clutching the wall and stair bannister as you attempt to find the bathroom. You open a few random doors, spotting people making out, some other people fighting before you finally find the bathroom, bile rising in your throat and your vision going fuzzy. You find a bunch of people smoking what smells like weed in the bathroom, the smell hitting you in the face like a brick wall. 

They all start yelling at you to shut the door and you quickly slam it shut before you stumble back down the stairs, racing to the back door as you feel the vomit start to claw up your throat. You shove the door open, the outside air freezing cold and nipping at your hot skin. 

You half crawl toward the back fence, your stupid heels betraying you as you pathetically fall to your knees and throw your guts up in the garden.

Your brain is on fire and your stomach aches as you throw up all the alcohol in your system. You really shouldn’t have been mixing your alcohols, but Nobara was so convincing and Megumi had just stomped on your heart.

You suddenly feel two cold hands against your head, brushing over your ears as they pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail, holding it out of your face as you throw up. You’re thankful to whatever stranger is helping you out right now because you feel awful.

Tears prick at your eyes, a mix of tears and mascara running down your face because you really fucking hate throwing up and you really hate Megumi Fushiguro right now.

“You okay?” The man’s voice is distant and a little fuzzy.

You wave him off, “m’fine.”

“You’re crying,” he says softly, listening as you sniffle and wipe your tears away with the ball of your palm. There’s a pause, the man still holding your hair back, “why’re you crying?”

You shrug, “cus I’m sick and I’m s’drunk and some stoners yelled at me and roommate is an ass.”

He hums, “what’d he do? …Your roommate?”

“Nothing,” you whine with a soft sniffle.

“Nothing?” He repeats, his voice sounding slightly amused.

“Nothing,” you say again, “that’s the problem.”

There’s a pause. “Why’s that a problem?”

You groan quietly, “why’re you grillin’ me? I’m s’drunk.”

He chuckles softly, “right, sorry.”

You don’t even know this guy and you immediately start rambling, “my friends helped me find a roommate and everyone neglected to tell me he ws’ hot! And I’m tryin’ to get him to like, notice me, but he’s so mean and I’m like ninety-nine percent sure he hates me. Then he was with his ex at this party right before I ws’ gonna go talk to him! Can you believe that?”

“Wow, he is an ass,” the man says matter-of-factly, validating your feelings.

“Thank you,” you slur before you feel your tummy do a flip and you’re throwing up in the garden again. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, smearing your lipgloss messily. You sniffle again, “m’sorry stranger.”

“S’okay,” he rubs your shoulder, still holding your hair back.

You wake up the next morning with the most vicious headache. 

You roll over with a groan, your head pounding and your mouth tasting of acid and whatever the hell was in that jungle juice last night. You press your face into your pillow and groan softly, your entire body feeling like shit. After a few painful seconds, you pry your eyes open, your vision fuzzy and your eyes sore. 

You’re in your bed.

Now how the fuck did you get here?

You sit up slowly, your head pounding and spinning with a wonderfully terrible hangover. You spot your shoes on the floor of your room, neatly sitting next to your desk along with your folded jacket. You half remember someone taking you home, maybe it was Yuji? Fuck, you better thank him.

You take your phone off your side table (which was miraculously put on charge last night) and search for Yuko’s number, you press her name and the phone rings a few times before she answers.

“H-Hello?” Yuko groans, her voice saturated with exhaustion.

“Are you as lucid as I am?” You cringe, rubbing your eyes with the ball of your palm.

You hear Yuko muffle a groan into her pillow, clearly as insanely hungover as you, “we got so drunk.”

“Is Itadori okay?” you ask with a wince.

“He’s throwing up in the shower right now,” she replies.

“That’s rough,” you want to laugh but it hurts too much.

“Well he did crash the beer pong and drank half a bottle of midori so,” she trails off.

“Can you tell him thanks for taking me home?” you sigh.

Yuko pauses, “Yuji didn’t take you home.”

Huh?

“What?” you sit up in bed.

“Babe, Yuji was so drunk he tried to pet a rat in the street, he did not take you home,” she says.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Then who did?”

“Y/N… Fushiguro took you home.”

What?

—

Megumi nurses a drink in his hand as he watches you from across the room. He can’t help the way his chest tightens as he hears you laugh at something Yuji says, your nose scrunching cutely as you let out a bubbly laugh. 

He also can’t help the way his eyes drift down your body, thinking you look cute with your hair done like that. You’re usually wearing baggy sweaters and shorts around the house, he’s never seen this outfit before and he really likes it.

He thinks you look pretty. You always look pretty but this outfit in particular has him short-circuiting like a teenager. 

He thinks back to when he got unnecessarily mad at you over washing his clothes and how he’ll never fucking admit it but they smelled so good. He’s not sure what the hell you used to wash them but they smelled amazing, they smelled like you.

Megumi has to tear his eyes away when his gaze drops to your cute little ass in that mini skirt. He feels like a perv. He lives with you for god sake, he can’t be thinking such things about his roommate. Not when he has to live with you for the next few years. 

Megumi takes a long swig of his drink, attempting to stifle the thoughts with terrible tasting alcohol and pure willpower. 

“Didn’t think I’d ever see Megumi Fushiguro at a party.”

Megumi has to stop himself from rolling his eyes when he hears her voice. 

Hana leans against the wall beside him with a sly grin on her face, her shoulder bumping his. He knows she’s doing it just to annoy him, of course she is. 

“Why’re you talking to me?” Megumi grumbles out, refusing to give her the satisfaction of eye contact as he sips on his drink because he’s gonna need alcohol or a fucking hammer to the head to get him through this interaction.

“Can’t say hi to my ex-boyfriend?” She teases, leaning her head toward him.

Megumi rolls his eyes for real this time, “you’ve said hi.”

“Oh, boo, you’re so not fun,” Hana playfully shoves his shoulder.

Megumi lets out a huffed fake laugh, “I’m really torn up about it.”

Hana talks to him about some random bullshit and Megumi isn’t even listening because he knows she’s drunk and she would be stupid to approach him sober. His eyes are instead glued to you, feeling himself get slightly jealous when Yuji puts a hand on your back to lead to toward the kitchen–

“–and you’re still mad,” Hana slurs. Megumi didn’t hear a word she said up until now.

Megumi side-eyes her, feeling rather annoyed by her incessant nagging, “you done?”

Hana rolls her eyes, “I’m just saying you could at least have a civil conversation.”

Megumi feels his eye twitch, “I think you lose civil-conversation privileges when you– I don’t know– lie and cheat?”

Hana scoffs and Megumi decides he doesn’t want to listen to her bullshit anymore and promptly walks off, shoving his hands in his pockets as he attempts to lose Hana in the crowd. She follows him around like some stupid puppy for a while before growing bored, probably going off to annoy some other poor sucker.

She also seems to lose interest when she notices Megumi simply doesn’t care anymore. She does this sometimes, drunkenly messaging him every few months only for him to promptly block her account without a word. He’s starting to think she’s the one that won’t move on.

Megumi sighs when he steps outside into the backyard, sitting down on the edge of the porch and deciding to look busy by scrolling on his phone. It’s quieter outside, the backyard mostly empty apart from a few people smoking cigarettes and vaping by the back fence.

Megumi Fushiguro is lonely.

Lonely in the sense that after Hana, he became decidedly more stoic and standoffish. She was his first serious girlfriend and he was stupid and naive for so long before Yuji and Nobara pointed out the rather obvious red flags that Megumi was painfully unaware of.

Because he was young and she was a little older, so she had to know better, right?

Maybe he really was too clingy and maybe he really did need to stop asking to hang out all the time. He felt utterly stupid when he found out she was cheating on him. It made sense, he was too clingy, too needy, too much.

Megumi reverted back in on himself for a long time, becoming sad and angry before he just stopped giving a shit.

He did a lot to forget about the anger and pain he felt from Hana.

He slept around to forget about her, becoming reserved and aloof over time. He eventually did get over it because why the fuck was it his fault that she cheated on him?

But the things she made him feel about himself lingered. 

Made him wonder if he really was too needy and clingy to be a good boyfriend. Maybe he wasn’t respectful enough of a person’s space and he needed to stop trying so hard. 

He didn’t go on dates much, everyone always thought he was too mean or rude to ever ask a girl on a date. Sure he slept with girls but they were quick to leave right after with a “yeah, yeah… I can call you if you want?”

If you want.

He just felt embarrassed, letting them gather their clothes and leave his apartment or usher him out of theirs while half-assed promising to text him later. Megumi didn’t know who was using who at that point.

Megumi is shaken from his thoughts when a body almost falls into him. He goes to argue with whoever the fuck can’t watch their step when he sees you.

Your shoes half fall off as you crawl toward the back fence to hurl up everything in your stomach. Megumi quickly slips his phone in his pocket and strides across the lawn toward you. 

You’re totally out of it.

Megumi pulls your hair out of your face as you vomit, tears slipping down your cheeks. Your skirt is riding up and your top is pulled low on your chest. 

“You okay?” Megumi asks softly, maybe one of the very few things he’s ever said to you. He gently adjusts your top, pulling the strap back onto your shoulder and pulling it up a little to cover the lacy material of your bra. You obviously don’t realise you’re compromising yourself and he adjusts himself behind you to cover your skirt as it rides up your thighs.

There are guys who are nudging each other and pointing at you and Megumi’s gaze hardens on them, suddenly feeling agitated.

“M’fine,” you mumble out with a soft sniffle.

Megumi’s heart melts, “why’re you crying?”

You proceed to sniffle and pout while you tell him all about how your roommate is an ass… without realising you’re talking to your roommate.

He thinks it’s cute, finding you so adorably amusing with how animatedly you speak despite being rather drunk and sick. He finds it sad though that it took you being so drunk for him to sum up enough courage to talk to you.

It scared him how you made his heart hammer in his chest, how your mere gaze on him suddenly made him nervous. But he couldn’t stop himself from staring. You were too cute with your dorky little grin as you stood at his front door telling him all about how you were his new roommate. He made a mental note to curse Yuji out for not telling him Yuko’s friend was a pretty girl and not the six foot two fucking pro wrestler guy he made you sound like.

You can’t possibly have any more to throw up, your skin feverish and clammy as your fingers curl into the grass below you. Megumi rubs your shoulder gently before he feels you slump against him, sniffling and tiredly whimpering beside him.

Megumi goes stiff, unsure of what to do with you. 

He should probably take you home.

“M’gonna take you home, okay?” Megumi says, feeling your body go a little more limp as you nod and pout in response.

Megumi easily picks you up, your legs dangling and your head falling against his chest, then he feels like he can’t breathe.

You look so pretty even when your skin flushes a little pale from being so sick and your baby hairs stick to your clammy skin. He carries you around the side of the house to avoid taking you back through the loud ass party.

You don’t make a peep as Megumi sits you in the passenger seat of his car, your head falling against the car window as he pulls your seatbelt over your shoulder, clipping it by your waist. He quickly sends Yuji a message to let him know he’s taking you home, though he doubts Yuji will pay attention to his phone since he seemed to be having a really good time taking shots and singing bad karaoke.

The car ride is silent and all Megumi can think about is what you said.

Maybe he kind of was being an ass to you. He hadn’t made much of an effort to get to know you or make you feel welcome because, in all honesty, you freak him out with how you made him feel without even trying.

So instead, he ignores you.

Pretending he doesn’t notice how your tongue pokes out from between your lips when you’re deep in focus, or how you always wear fuzzy socks around the house when you don’t have classes, or how you do a little jump to reach things on the higher shelves (which makes him melt), or how you still look at him with such kindness despite how piss poor he behaves around you.

Megumi holds you close as he opens your bedroom door, pushing it the rest of the way open to set you down on your bed. Your hair is messy and your clothes are disheveled, a little pout on your cute little lips as you sway slightly. 

You fall back onto your bed, your head hitting the soft pillow. Megumi sighs before sitting on the edge of your bed, large hands reaching to pull your shoes off for you. 

Your feet look like they hurt, little red blisters forming on your heels and toes. He gently pulls your shoes off and sets them down by your bedside table. You sigh with relief at the feeling of having your feet free of their heel prison. 

Megumi breathes softly and just studies you for a moment. It’s dark in your room but he can see the gentle outline of your face and the curve of your cheek. Your room is quiet apart from your soft breaths and Megumi prays you can’t hear his thumping heart. 

Megumi lets his eyes wander, unable to tear his gaze away from the soft lacy hem of your bra peeking over your top. His breath hitches in his throat and he suddenly feels disgusting for wondering if your panties match your bra— He closes his eyes, biting the inside of his lip.

You whine in your sleep, some of your hair falling in front of your face as you squirm. Without thinking, he reaches up and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, thumb brushing over your cheek.

You stir at the feeling and Megumi pulls away, scared he woke you.

“Mm, where’m I?” you slur, eyes still pressed closed.

“You’re home, don’t worry,” Megumi replies softly.

“Mm, okay,” you breathe, “thanks, Yuji…”

Megumi’s heart sinks but his face remains unchanged. Of course you’d think Yuji took you home, he’s your friend. Why would you Megumi do something like that for you?

He pulls away from you with a quiet sigh, “get some sleep, Y/N.”

—

“How do you know he took me home?” You ask, shaking your head slightly as you restock the mini fridge under the counter with milk.

You managed to shake off the hangover after three days of staying curled up in bed drinking water, throwing back ibuprofen and watching kitchen nightmares on your laptop with all the lights off. But now you’re back at work being blinded by the awful fluorescent lights and smelling of burnt coffee.

Yuko presses a button on the coffee machine, “he texted Yuji, told him he was gonna take you home,” Yuko replies, her hands on her hips.

You let out a shaky sigh, eyebrows furrowed in confusion because why would Megumi have taken you home when he seems so perpetually annoyed by you?

And how did he even find you? You remember the smell of the weed in the bathroom and people yelling at you, then you remember stumbling into the backyard like a bumbling fool, then— 

Oh, no.

“I don’t even know where you went, you’re lucky Fushiguro kept an eye on you–”

“No!” You suddenly squeak.

Yuko gives you a dazed look, “what? What happened?”

You press your hands to your face, drawing out a muffled groan because it just fucking dawned on you who held your hair back in the garden that night.

“It was him!”

“What are you talking about? Who?”

“Fushiguro! He held my hair back in the garden! I called him an ass!” you whine.

Yuko pauses for a moment before she just starts laughing, pressing her hand to her mouth to muffle the sound. You look up at her with the most offended look on your face.

You throw a rag at her, “don’t laugh! I was so mean!”

“That’s one way to break the ice,” she giggles, flinching away from you as you playfully swat at her leg with another rag.

“Ozawa…” you whine, “he must be so mad at me.”

“He still took you home after that though? I think you’re overthinking it.”

“He should have left me there in that damp backyard in my own vomit!” you say dramatically. “No wonder he thinks I’m a fucking idiot.”

“I really doubt he thinks that,” Yuko rolls her eyes, becoming sick of this beating-around-the-bush mantra you’ve got going on.  

“I have to pay all the rent for like, a year as an apology.”

“Can you even afford that?”

“No!”

You slug around for the rest of your shift, moping about behind the counter and wishing the ground would just swallow you whole. When the end of your shift rolls around, you feel more and more nervous about going home now that you’ve figured out you called Megumi an ass to his face.

Before you clean the coffee machine, you make a coffee to take home for him since he seems to always drink the coffees you make for him even if he seems annoyed by you interrupting his studying. 

Your hands are shaking as you unlock the front door, holding a cup of hot coffee and a cinnamon bun in a paper back in your other hand. Your heart is in your throat as you push the door open, peeking inside.

You see Megumi from the front door, he’s sitting at his desk in the living room, laptop open and a few notebooks stacked beside him. Classes haven’t even ramped back up yet and he’s already studying.

You kick your shoes off and shuffle down the hall, heartbeat thumping in your ears and suddenly feeling a chill down your spine at the idea of facing your roommate who you insulted.

You clear your throat, “uh, h-hey.”

Megumi has his earbuds in but he notices you standing there in the corner of his eyes. He takes his earbuds out, “you okay?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I got you a coffee.”

You place it down beside him. He doesn’t take his eyes off yours.

Your knees feel weak under his steely gaze. You quickly hand him the paper bag, “and a cinnamon bun.”

“Thanks,” he says simply.

There’s a long awkward pause before you huff out a shaky sigh, “listen, Fushiguro– I’m sorry about the other night when I like, threw up everywhere and called you an ass–”

“S’fine,” Megumi replies blankly.

“No, really, I was mean and rude and I didn’t mean it–”

“I know, idiot,” he cuts you off again, “seriously, it’s fine.”

Your lips form a tight line, eyebrows furrowed with worry because it’s not fine. You want to say more but you’re pretty sure Megumi doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. Which is understandable, you’re just happy he hasn’t kicked you out yet.

You toy with your fingers for a moment before you nod awkwardly, shuffling off toward your room. You miss as Megumi watches you leave again, feeling stupid for how bad he is at talking about his feelings.

You avoid Megumi like the plague after that.

You’re so utterly embarrassed by what you said and you can only imagine how mad he is about it but at least he’s doing you a favour by not mentioning it.

You disappear from any room he walks into, slinking by and apologising awkwardly when you take up too much time in the bathroom, or bowing your head and averting your gaze when he walks into the kitchen, you’re embarrassed and you feel awful, and it bothers you that Megumi is so vague and mysterious about how he feels about you, sure he took you home and pulled your dirty shoes off your feet and put you to bed. But he also gives you curt nods and vague responses that leave you wondering whether or not he likes you or just tolerates you. 

Are you friends? Just roommates? Does he like you? Does he hate you? 

You’ve got no earthly idea and the easiest way to survive in such a predicament is to just avoid the very thing that’s causing the problem. 

And Megumi is so damn annoyed by it.

At first it was him who was avoiding you, hiding away in his room so he didn’t have to interact with you and now that he knows you’ve been trying to get him to notice you, he’s been trying to linger around nearby and sort of force the proximity because he has no idea how to approach you like a normal fucking person. 

He reaches things for you on the top shelf when you can’t reach them, he makes sure to take your sweaters out of the washing machine so they don’t shrink, he even sets aside the caramel flavoured coffee pods for you because he knows they’re your favourite. 

He’s bad at all of this. The talking part.

What if you think he’s too needy or too clingy or too much? That would just embarrass him even more than he already is. 

Megumi lets you be, assuming that you’re probably regretting everything you said that night after he so blatantly blew you off when you brought home a coffee for him the other night.

But you talk again when your car doesn’t start.

“Fuck,” you groan, turning your key in the ignition for the third time in the past minute, the engine ticking, ticking, ticking before you give up. You whine and give a half-hearted punch to the steering wheel. 

You knew this would happen eventually. 

Your car is run down and sort of shitty. You have to basically shoulder check the driver’s side door to get it open and you can’t actually open one of the back doors anymore because it refuses to unlock. But you’re broke and the damn thing gets you from A to B, except for today.

It’s raining and your hair is stuck to your head from the mad dash you did from the front door to your car and now it won’t even start. 

You’re basically drenched when you step back inside the front door.

“I thought you left already?” Megumi questions from the kitchen, holding a bowl of cereal in his hand.

“My stupid car won’t– oh,” you cut yourself off when your eyes meet with Megumi clearly fresh out of the shower.

He’s wearing grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips and no shirt, little droplets of water slipping down his broad shoulders and chest from his slightly damp hair. He’s looking at you with a bored expression, waiting for you to continue.

You clear your throat and decide the ceiling is so very interesting, “u-uh, yeah, my car won’t start, ‘m just gonna walk–”

“You’re gonna walk?” Megumi’s eyes narrow.

“I mean I’m poor so,” you give a sheepish laugh.

Megumi rolls his eyes, putting the bowl of cereal down on the counter and turning on his heel to pull his black hoodie off the couch, slipping it over his head.

“We’ll take my car,” he says, grabbing his keys off the side table beside the couch.

Your eyes widen, “huh? What– no, it’s fine–”

“Walking in this weather would be dumb,” Megumi grumbles, “just get in my car, idiot.”

You press your mouth shut and do as you're told, trailing behind him as he picks up his umbrella by the door, holding it over your head as you take the short walk to his car. Megumi holds the umbrella completely over you, the heavy rain completely drenching his left shoulder.

“You’re getting wet,” you point out.

“M’aware,” he retorts without looking at you.

Your shoulder bumps with Megumi’s bicep given the height difference between you. You’ve never been this close to him before, well, at least not sober. You never realised how much taller he is than you, it makes you feel kind of safe.

Megumi unlocks his car and opens the door for you, holding the umbrella completely over you until you’re safe in the passenger seat of his car. You curl your fingers around your tote bag nervously, Megumi getting in the driver’s seat.

“Thank you,” you squeak out.

Megumi starts up his car, his car being one of those ones that has a push button to start instead of a key, “I don’t mind,” he shrugs.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, your heart punching against your chest. You take a breath before you look over at Megumi.

“Do you hate me, Fushiguro?”

The question just hangs there and Megumi feels his heart falter at such a question because no, he doesn’t hate you. Not even a little.

It upsets him that you think he hates you, that you think so little of yourself that you let yourself get torn up over what he thinks of you.

He had no idea he was coming off that way, that you genuinely thought he hated you. 

He opens his mouth to speak but it never comes out. He’s not sure what to say or what to do to make you see that hate is the furthest thing from his mind when it comes to you. But instead, Megumi’s mind is choked with thoughts and it’s so overwhelming that he just clutches the steering wheel and silently drives you to campus. 

He still hasn’t spoken when he parks the car.

The two of you are silent for a moment before he hears you sniffle, his heart snapping in two at the mere sound of it. 

“T-Thank you,” you murmur, quickly pushing the door open and shuffling out before Megumi can protest.

No. Fuck. No, he didn’t mean it like that.

“Y/N, wait,” he gets out of the driver’s side, umbrella clutched in his fist.

You’re holding your tote bag tight to your chest as you walk across the pavement in the pouring fucking rain. 

“Y/N!” Megumi is behind you, his hand curling around your upper arm and stopping you in your tracks.

You pause, turning to face him, eyes glassy and doe-like as you stare up at him, “what is it?” you force out. 

You both hope he says something, anything. He pants, his hair sticking to his face as his steely eyes show the first ounce of emotion you’ve seen from him. 

“Y-You…” Megumi doesn’t stammer, he never does. “Take it,” he holds out the umbrella for you.

A silence hangs between you and you sigh, taking the umbrella from his grasp and opening it above your head, leaving him there in the carpark. 

—

Megumi beat himself up over it for days.

He picks you up that same rainy afternoon, the two of you not uttering a single word to one another other than a ‘hey’ from him and a ‘thank you’ from you. He wants to tell you everything, that he’s really bad at talking about things and that he doesn’t hate you. 

He’s not sure how to prove it to you, the words dying in his throat the moment he shares a room with you for more than five seconds. He’s not sure what to say or how to say it.

Hana always told him he talked too much. Which was crazy because Megumi was a man of very few words. But when the two of them would fight, he was always so adamant at resolving the issue and getting to the root of the problem instead of just letting it hang in the air and choke him.

He sometimes wonders if that’s why she cheated.

You don’t talk to Megumi for a while. Feeling small and embarrassed about asking him such a question when you knew deep down it wasn’t true and you just wanted to hear it from him. 

But it hurt when he didn’t deny your question, when he just stayed silent and let you fuss over it for days. You’ve lost sleep, laying away at night and wondering if you should just talk to him. 

Megumi tries to approach you, he really does. 

He thinks about knocking on your bedroom door late at night but every time he finds himself standing outside, arm held up about to knock, he stops himself and wonders if he even deserves to talk to you. 

If he even deserves to try again. 

“I’m the best you’ll ever have.”

He knew it wasn’t true at face value. He knew Hana wasn’t good for him in the end, but it’s hard to ignore such bitterness coming from someone you used to love. 

“Hey, Yuko,” you greet softly, phone pressed to your ear. “Can I ask a favour?”

“Of course… you okay, Y/N?” Yuko asks slowly, her voice gentle.

You pause, “I just… I need a ride to campus until I can get my car fixed. Would you and Itadori mind if I tagged along? I’ll give you fuel money.”

Yuko pauses this time, “…You didn’t ask Fushiguro?”

You toy with your fingers nervously, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

She hums and nods, “We can take you, Y/N.” 

Yuko knows you well enough to know that something happened. You spoke so timidly and she could tell you were nervously fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. She would talk to Yuji about it; hopefully he could knock some sense into his best friend. 

It's first thing Monday morning when you emerge from your room with your tote bag over your shoulder and your hair done in a messy claw clip. You look tired, bags forming under your eyes and you make a beeline for the door without even acknowledging Megumi. 

“Do you need a ride?” Megumi sits up straighter on the couch and holds his keys up as if he didn’t set an alarm just to take you to class. 

“Uh, no, thanks. Ozawa and Itadori are taking me,” you say sheepishly, barely offering him a glance. 

Megumi’s heart cracks a little. He wants to say something, tell you he’s sorry and ask if he can please take you to class. But he doesn’t, mouth staying shut as he nods quickly, “right. Okay.” 

You leave without another word, the apartment feeling awful and still without you. Megumi’s leg bounces nervously and his blunt nails scratch at the inside of his knee. He’s anxious and he wants to fix it so desperately but he feels like he’s only making it worse.

“Hey, Y/N,” Yuji greets with a warm smile.

You offer him a half smile before getting in the back seat. Yuko and Yuji share a look with one another before Yuji backs out of the apartment parking lot. There’s an intensity hanging in the air and you just stare out the window with a blank expression, vaguely paying attention to the music on the radio.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Yuji asks softly, eyeing you through the rearview mirror.

“M’fine,” you whisper back, too afraid to trust your voice.

“What happened?” Yuko reaches back between the seats to touch your knee affectionately. 

You shrug, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Yuko pulls her hand away from you and glances at her boyfriend, the two of them making a silent agreement to talk to Fushiguro after dropping you off instead of going to their morning classes.

Yuji slams the door open, nearly sending Megumi flying into the roof with how loud it was, “Fushiguro!”

“The fuck are you yelling for?” Megumi spits, gaze softening slightly after realising Yuko was trailing behind Yuji.

Yuko frowns, “what did you say to Y/N?”

“What?”

“She was upset, Fushiguro,” Yuji crosses his arms, “what did you say to her?”

“Nothing,” Megumi defends quickly.

“Then why is she upset?” Yuko’s brows furrow.

Megumi sighs, “she just asked me if I hated her–”

Yuji cuts him off, “and what did you say?”

Megumi averts his gaze, “nothing.”

“You said what?” Yuko presses.

“I didn’t know what to say–”

“You say, ‘no Y/N, I don’t!’,” Yuji mocks before landing a punch to Megumi’s shoulder, “you upset her, bro.”

“I know,” Megumi grumbles.

“Then why didn’t you apologise?” Yuko asks.

“I didn’t know how,” Megumi dejectedly sighs. “I didn’t expect it.”

“She likes you, man. Like a lot,” Yuji shakes his head, his heart hurting a little at the fact that Megumi looks really torn up about the whole situation too.

There’s a long pause, “can you lie to her?”

“What?” Yuko and Yuji ask in unison.

“Tell her you can’t pick her up,” Megumi adds, “please.”

Yuji and Yuko share another look and Yuko sighs before nodding her head, taking out her phone to tell you that she and Yuji can’t come get you because Yuji’s brother called and needed his help. It’s not a great lie, but you’ll believe it at first glance.

—

Your phone buzzes in the middle of class. You’re tired and you feel like shit and the professor’s monotone voice is boring you half to death. You flip your phone over and read the message from Yuko.

Yuko <3: Hey, Y/N. Choso called and he needs to borrow Yuji’s car, we can’t come get you this afternoon. Sorry hun x

You frown.

Yuko <3: But don’t worry, Fushiguro is coming to get you.

You panic, quickly unlocking your phone to message her back, telling her you’ll get an uber or just walk but you get a message from an unknown number only a second later.

Unknown: I’ll come get you.

You rest your head in your palm and go to message him back telling him it’s fine but the speech bubbles appear and reappear before he sends the message.

Unknown: Please wait.

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pittering loudly in your chest. You zone out for the remainder of the class, nervously chewing on your nails and tapping on the desk. You don’t want to talk to Megumi, you really don’t. At least not while you feel like shit and your thoughts are a huge mess.

You sit on the grass after your lecture, pulling at the blades of grass by your feet while you stare at the ground, teeth nipping anxiously at the inside of your lower lip. You don’t know what Megumi wants to say to you or why he even agreed to pick you up if he was so against talking about whatever the hell was going on between you two.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when a pair of black sneakers intrudes on your line of sight, you know it’s Megumi from the little scuff marks on the edge since they’re so worn out but they’re his favourite pair.

He doesn’t say anything as he stares at you, hands shoved in the pockets off his hoodie like they always are. You wordlessly stand up, pulling your tote bag to your chest and pushing past him without a word.

“Y/N, I–”

You’re too far ahead of him now, making your way to his parked car on the curb. His head hurts and his chest is tight with nerves but he’s quick to unlock the car for you and let you scoot into the passenger seat.

Megumi quickly joins you, turning on the car and just sitting there for a moment, hands tight around the wheel. 

“I–” Megumi feels his throat close up, “I’m sorry.” You feel your eyes glass over but you don’t offer him anything else but he continues, “I don’t hate you, Y/N.”

“S’fine if you do,” you say quietly, “I know I can be annoying and intrusive–”

“–What? You’re not–”

“And I understand if you want me to move out–”

“No, Y/N, I don’t want that–”

You’re rambling now without thinking, “–nd I know you probably need me to move out cus of that girl at the party–”

“What girl?” Now he’s fucking confused.

“And she’s pretty and I saw you talking to her–”

Wait, his ex?

“–Wait, Y/N, that’s not–”

“And I’m sorry I was so drunk–”

“Y/N, stop!” Megumi didn’t mean to yell, but it instantly shuts you up. He peers over at you and you’re crying, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”

“S’okay,” you sniffle, wiping your tears away.

“No, it’s not… You just wouldn’t shut up,” Megumi makes an attempt at dry humour, letting you know it was a joke by following up with a half-assed breathy laugh.

You just look at him, eyes slightly red.

“I– Fuck,” Megumi curses, knuckles turning white as he drips the steering wheel. 

The two of you stay silent, the only thing either of you hear is your quiet sniffling. Megumi sighs, running a hand through his messy hair before speaking, “...she cheated on me.”

Your eyes widen a little.

“That girl you saw. Yeah, she was my ex but… she cheated on me.”

“...I’m sorry, Fushiguro.”

“Stop calling me that,” he grumbles.

“It’s your name,” you retort.

“I don’t want you to call me Fushiguro,” he presses his eyes shut.

Your lips form a tight line and you just watch him, waiting patiently for him to continue because you can tell he’s trying really hard.

“Can you just call me Megumi,” he sighs. “Please?”

You nod, “okay, Megumi,” you whisper softly.

“...I don’t hate you, Y/N. Not even a little,” his eyes finally meet yours.

“You’re really bad at showing it,” you say with a breathy laugh.

“I know… M’just really–” he stops himself, his hand scrunching against the material over his thigh, “I’m just scared.”

Your heart shatters, a pout pulling at your lip because you feel like you’re about to cry again. You study him for a moment, your heart warming at the sight of Megumi Fushiguro being so utterly soft and nervous.

You hesitate for a moment before you reach your hand over the centre console to stop him from grabbing and pulling at his own thigh. His hand is cold and his palm is rough but it’s him. And you were sitting here thinking you needed his comfort when really he needed yours.

He flinches at the gentleness of your touch, your hand is smaller than his but it’s so soft and warm. 

He lets you wrap your fingers around the back of his hand, lets you roll his hand over and press your palm to his. It’s comforting and it’s sweet.

“You don’t need to be scared, Gumi.”

His heart flutters at the nickname and his steely blue eyes nervously meet yours. He nods his head slowly and you smile.

“Feel better?” You ask softly.

Megumi holds your hand in his, eyes still searching yours before they flicker down to your lips briefly. You catch the quick movement and your body reacts without any input from your brain, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

“Gumi?”

Megumi doesn’t need much more motivation than that and his other hand lets go of the wheel to reach over and cup your warm cheek. Your breath hitches in your throat and your eyes flicker between his nervously. His eyes are half-lidded, nose grazing yours and your hand squeezes tight around his.

“S’okay,” he coos softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “M’gonna kiss you.”

Your heart is in your throat and you start overthinking it, thinking back to the maybe handful of times a boy has kissed you, but never a man, never someone like Megumi.

You nod your head quickly and a smile tugs at the corner of Megumi’s lip because you’re so fucking cute.

You feel the world melt away when Megumi’s breath fans across your lips, his hand coming to cup the back of your head, guiding you to tilt your head slightly as he finally, finally, closes the distance between you, his slightly chapped lips meeting yours.

You melt into his warmth, one hand nervously holding his while the other has a death grip on the strap of your tote bag. 

His lips move against yours, becoming a little more feverish and needy when you let out a soft whine. He feels himself go feral, wanting to drag you into the back seat and take you in this stupid parking lot where everyone can see.

But instead he takes it slow, pressing your lips against his and his hand tangling in your soft hair. You’re nervous and a little inexperienced, he can tell but it only drives him more insane.

He pulls away only a fraction, a cheeky smile pulling at his lips when he realises your lips chase his, your other hand coming to curl around his hoodie sleeve to bring him closer.

“Wasn’t so bad?” Megumi whispers.

You have the most innocent little look on your face, “does that mean you like me?”

Megumi can only chuckle softly at how damn cute you are, “I don’t just kiss any girl like that, Y/N.”

You nod timidly, “m’kay, Gumi.”

Megumi wants to kiss you again but refrains because he knows he’ll want to do other things to you with how you utter the nickname with such innocence, but you’re in a parking lot on your college campus and there are about fifty people that have walked by in the past ten minutes.

But when you get home?

“Megumi–” your hands are clutching the front of his hoodie as he kisses the side of your cheek, then your temple, then above your eyebrow, “wait a second.”

“S-Sorry,” he mutters against your warm skin. 

You’ve barely got one foot in the door and Megumi already has you pinned against the wall in the hallway, a large hand cupping your head while the other rests on your waist. He pants softly, lips itching to kiss you and kiss you hard.

“I’m sorry too,” you say breathlessly. “For not seeing.”

Megumi shakes his head, “you don’t need to be sorry.”

“But I am,” you murmur, “you’re really bad at talking about your feelings but I should have been more observant.”

“S’okay, Y/N,” he rests his forehead against yours, “m’just glad you let me pick you up.”

“I thought about just walking,” you giggle, “letting you grovel for a little longer.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“I’m glad I didn’t.”

“I’m glad you didn’t either,” he smiles softly, running the pad of his thumb along your cheek.

You fall silent, hands just holding onto his hoodie while he presses feather-light kisses to your face. You suddenly feel nervous when you feel a certain stiffness against your thigh.

“...Do you want to–”

“I’m a virgin.”

Megumi pulls away from you, “W-What?”

“You were gonna ask if we could… y’know,” your eyes shift away from him, “I panicked.”

Megumi laughs, like actually, laughs at that.

“Don’t laugh,” you playfully punch his shoulder, your bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “A lot of people are still virgins in college.”

“M’not laughing at that,” he grins. “You’re just… you’re really cute.”

You feel your face heat at that, “stop it.”

“M’serious.”

“You’re always serious.”

“Whatever.”

You giggle softly, letting him press a soft peck to your lips.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie,” Megumi lies through his teeth, liking the way you flush and stammer at outing yourself. 

“Oh,” you say quietly. 

“Why ‘oh’?” He teases.

“Nothing,” you say quickly, brows knit.

“What?” he presses with a shit-eating grin. 

“Nothing,” you retort.

“...Did you want to have sex?”

Your heart drops, eyes widening slightly because yes, you do want to have sex with Megumi. You’d never really thought much about sex until him. Never thought you’d want a guy to manhandle you or put his hands all over your body until Megumi.

“Can we?” you ask timidly.

Megumi feels a pang in his heart because you’re so fucking cute he might pass away. He smiles before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “if you want to.”

“But do you want to?”

Megumi doesn’t need to think very hard about that one.

“I’ve wanted you in my bed since I first met you, Y/N.”

You breathe hard, your heart racing in your chest and you’re sure it’s loud enough for Megumi to hear how fucking nervous yet turned on you are. Your eyes fall to his lips again, revelling in the feeling of his breath fanning over your lips.

You press up on your tiptoes, Megumi’s head slowly tilting and following you, wondering what you’re doing. Your soft lips graze the shell of his ear and you smile cheekily, about to fucking out yourself with the last of your confidence. 

“Fuck me then.”

Megumi slams you against the wall, arms caging your body as he presses his lips hard against yours. The kiss is needy and feverish, a mess of clashing teeth and wandering hands. Megumi’s hand cups the back of your head, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss.

His tongue presses against your lips before sliding into your mouth, earning a soft whine from your throat that you didn’t mean to sound so desperate. Your fists curl around the material of his hoodie, pulling Megumi impossibly closer.

Megumi’s free hand drops from your waist to your hip, squeezing your skin. His other hand drops from your head to curl over your hips and grope your ass. Both of his hands cup your ass, kneading the soft flesh and earning a soft mewl from your throat.

“You sound so pretty, baby,” Megumi mutters against your lips, his messy hair tickling your forehead. You want to moan and whine at the nickname but instead you kiss him again.

You’ve got the hang of this kissing thing but you still have no fucking idea where to put your hands without making him uncomfortable– as if his hands aren’t groping your ass.

Megumi pulls away slightly breathless, “you wanna stop?”

“No,” you shake your head quickly, “no, I don’t wanna stop.”

Megumi grins, kissing your cheek, “okay, sweet girl.”

Megumi leads you to his bedroom, his hand never leaving yours and your other hand never letting go of his hoodie sleeve. He pushes his bedroom door open, his lips on your instantly as he backs you up to his bed. The backs of your thighs hit his mattress and you fall backward, bringing Megumi with you. 

Megumi chuckles softly against your lips before kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then the underside of your jaw, then your neck. His hand paws at the bottom hem of your sweater, his fingers slipping underneath to ghost over the skin of your bare tummy. 

“M’gonna take it off, okay?” 

You nod sheepishly, “okay.”

“You tell me if you want me to stop,” he breathes.

“I will, Gumi,” you reply with a whisper, kissing the tip of his nose.

Megumi grins affectionately before his hands grip the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up slightly. Your breath hitches in your throat and he slowly pulls your sweater upward and over your tits. You’re not wearing a shirt, just a lacy black bra, just like the one he got a peek of at the party.

“Pretty,” Megumi murmurs, pressing a kiss to your chest, right between your collarbones. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him against your hot skin as he peppers kisses across your chest, finally pulling your sweater over your head and tossing it aside. You’re left in your pretty bra and a short little skirt that finished above your mid thigh. 

God how he wants to bite and suck on your pretty plush thighs.

His hand snakes underneath you, fingers fiddling with your bra clasp at your back. Your breathing quickens and Megumi kisses your cheek, “s’okay… m’here.”

He unclasps your bra, the cups loosening around your tits and the straps going slack on your shoulders. His fingers ghost over your shoulder as he pulls the strap down your shoulder, pressing soft kisses in his wake.

“C-Can you go faster?” You whine, your voice quiet.

Megumi chuckles, lifting his head to peer up at you, pupils blown wide, “am I going to slow for you, pretty girl?”

You bite your lip, “mhm.”

Megumi lifts his thigh, pressing it between your legs to where you desperately want him. You whine when he presses his strong thigh against your clothed heat, your skirt bunching up at your waist. Your skin feels hot and you feel a wetness pooling in your panties, making your face flush with embarrassment at your own neediness.

“I’ve thought about this,” Megumi whispers, pulling your bra cup down, his large hand cupping your plush breast. “A lot.”

You moan softly, your nipples hardening under the cold chill of the air in his room.

“Thought about what you’d sound like.”

He lowers his head slightly, pressing long, wet kisses to your pretty nipples. Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him down and forcing him to nip and suck at the soft skin.

“Thought about how you’d look.”

You roll your hips involuntarily against his strong thigh, feeling the friction against your poor little clit. You moan underneath him, your heart racing as he lowers his head to kiss down your tummy to the hem of your skirt.

“Thought about how you’d taste.”

You suddenly let out a surprised gasp when Megumi pulls your lower body off the bed, your hands curling into his bedsheets for support. You peer down at him, your heart in your throat at the sight of Megumi between your legs, his fingers curling underneath the waistband of your skirt and pulling.

He drops the material on the floor, his large hands curling underneath your thighs and pulling them apart, “w-wait, Gumi.”

He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, “what is it, princess?”

“W-What are you doing?”

Megumi smiles against the inside of your thigh, “m’gonna eat your pretty pussy.”

Your hands curl into the sheets and you feel a glob of arousal seep from your cunt. If this is how fucked up he gets you just from kissing you, how the hell are you going to hold up with his tongue inside you?

“You okay with that?”

You nod your head quickly without thinking, a thin sheen of sweat already coating your skin. “P-Please–”

Megumi chuckles softly at how damn cute you are, his fingers hooking under the sides of your panties, pulling them down your legs. They’re covered in your arousal, your pretty pussy glistening under the warm glow of the setting sun.

God he wishes he could take a picture.

“G-Gumi?” You peer down at him, “s-stop staring.”

Megumi pulls your thighs over his shoulders, his hair tickling the insides of your spread legs, “sorry, sweet girl, she’s just s’pretty.”

You let out an involuntary moan when he presses a kiss to your swollen clit, the sudden attention sending a jolt of pleasure through your tummy. You want to slam your thighs closed, your body desperate for friction. 

“Don’t tease me,” you whine. “Please–”

Megumi’s fingers curl into your thighs, pulling them apart further and forcing your pussy lips open to press the flat of his tongue against your awaiting clit. 

“M-Megumi–”

You throw your head back against the bed, one of your hands pressing against the back of his head, forcing him closer to your pussy. No one has ever touched you like this, no one has ever put their mouth on you, no one has ever seen your pretty pussy and you couldn’t think of anyone better than Megumi Fushiguro to be the one to tongue-fuck you right now.

“You ever masturbated, baby?”

You whine, “a-are you teasing me or something?”

He smiles against your clit, tongue dipping down to lap up your slick, “maybe a little. I just wanna know if you’ve ever had something inside you.” His thumbs spread you open, his tongue flicking against your clit and making you whine even louder. “Shh, baby, we have neighbours.”

You don’t give a fuck right now.

“I’ve masturbated b-before,” you say after a hard huff, you feel fucking breathless.

“Oh, yeah?” Megumi presses his tongue against your little hole, lewdly slurping up the insane amount of arousal leaking from you. “You should show me.”

“No!” you whine, “so embarrassing.”

“I think it’d be hot,” the tip of his middle finger presses against your hole. “Maybe some other time.”

You cry out, hands gripping the sheets when Megumi presses the tip of his middle finger into your cunt. His fingers are thicker than yours and you can only imagine so much longer, able to press against parts of you you’ve never reached before. 

“Gumi–” you pant, “m-more.”

“More?” He raises a brow at you.

“Please, please–”

“You’re so cute.”

“Shut up!” you whimper, “js’ touch me–” Megumi can’t deny you, not when you sound so fucking gorgeous and you taste like fucking heaven. 

He presses his finger into you, twisting his hand around and curling his finger inside you. You want to cry, your eyes screwed shut and your belly burning. He fucks his finger into you slowly, his tongue lapping and sucking your clit while your thighs press against his head.

“Gonna add another one, okay, baby?”

You nod your head desperately and he smiles cheekily, pressing a second finger into you to stretch you open. You throw your head back at the delicious stretch, your slick coating Megumi’s fingers and dripping down his wrist.

Megumi feels your thighs pressing together harder and he forces your thigh down with his free hand, your knee almost hitting your chest with how he pins it down. He’s spreading you open, tongue flicking against your clit and fingers curling against your gummy walls.

“Gumi– m’gonna–” you feel your tummy burn and you’re so fucking embarrassed that you’re about to cum from just having two fingers inside you. You start to pant, hands tangling in his hair as lewd slurping and squelches fill his room.

“S’okay, baby. Cum on my mouth,” he groans against you, his cock rock hard from feeling your hips grind against his face. You might be a virgin but your body knows what it wants as you rut against his tongue and your legs shake.

Megumi suddenly shakes his head over your clit, his mouth covered in your slick and you just cum. It crashes into you like a fucking train and you whine and moan against the back of your hand as Megumi fucks his fingers into your sopping cunt, your hole spasming and clenching down on his fingers.

He scissors and curls his fingers inside you, fucking you through your orgasm and feeling a sense of pride but also getting a huge fucking ego boost that he’s the first man to ever make you cum.

Your chest is heaving up and down, your vision cloudy and your mind feeling fuzzy as you come back down from your high. Megumi pulls his fingers out of you, kissing the inside of your thigh and lapping up the mess you made all over yourself.

You sit up on your elbows, face flushed and hair dishevelled as you peer down at Megumi. You suddenly feel immensely embarrassed that he was just between your legs, his tongue flicking over your clit and his fingers deep inside you.

“Fuck, you taste better than I imagined,” Megumi licks his fingers clean while holding eye contact with you. 

You whine and flop back onto the bed, earning a soft chuckle from Megumi as he gets to his feet, attempting to find a towel or old shirt somewhere.

“Where are you going?” You ask timidly.

“M’gonna clean you up, don’t worry, I won’t go,” he replies, quickly pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“But…” your eyes flicker to the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Hm?” He follows your gaze. “Oh, m’okay, princess. It’s not about me anyway.”

“But, I want to–”

“S’okay, Y/N,” he lifts your hand, kissing your knuckles softly, “you can try some other time.”

“...Do you not want to?”

He grins, “course I want to.”

“Then let me,” you whine, pulling him closer to you. “Please.”

Megumi ponders it for a moment. He doesn’t want to frighten you and he’s so fucking scared of losing control and just bending you over and fucking your brains out. But the way you look at him with your pretty wide eyes and your hands gripping his thighs as he stands between your legs– 

How could he say no?

“You want to, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay… we’ll go slow,” he urges, petting your hair gently. 

You’re so fucking eager to please him that it makes him weak. Your post-orgasm body is shaky as you reach for the zipper of his pants, your fingertips grazing against the sensitive bulge. He groans softly, hand petting your head as he lets you figure it out, slowly unzipping his pants and pulling them down a little.

There’s a dark wet patch on his boxers, he’s so fucking turned on by your pretty sounds and your intoxicating taste that his cock is leaking and begging for attention.

“S’big,” you whisper, eyes widening.

And he hasn’t even pulled his cock out of his boxers.

He chuckles, “you flatter me, pretty.”

“N-No, really,” your pretty eyes meet his. “Is it gonna fit in my mouth?”

Holy fucking shit. 

He was thinking you were just going to give him a handjob and now you’re asking if he can fit in your mouth.

Megumi runs a hand through his hair, “fuck you drive me crazy.”

“I-I thought you wanted me to–”

“Baby. You can do whatever you want to me.”

Your eyes blow wide and you just about sparkle with anticipation, “then… can I suck your dick?”

Someone kill him and put him to rest because you’re about to be the death of him.

“Fuck yeah you can, baby.”

Megumi has to help you pull his cock from his boxers and your eyes just about bulge out of your head at the size of him. He’s long and thick and the tip is a pretty pink colour. It’s heavy too, almost too heavy to hold itself up.

He sits down on the bed and you get on your knees in front of him. He strips his hoodie off, his abs flexing as he leans back on his elbows, just watching you.

You bite your lip, suddenly intimidated.

“S’okay… just take it slow.”

You nod your head before your hand wraps around the base. Megumi suddenly groans and you pull away with a fright, “s-sorry!”

“No, no, baby–” he chuckles breathily. “Js’ a lot to take in having a pretty girl with her hands on my cock.”

You look away shyly and Megumi laughs, reaching out to cup your jaw, forcing you to look back at him. He sits up, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. You the remains of your orgasm on his tongue, pressing your thighs together as you feel yourself become a little aroused again.

He kisses you deeper, reaching his free hand out to cup your own, guiding you toward his hard neglected cock. “You can touch me, baby.”

Your hand wraps around the base and you squeeze softly, earning a groan from your pretty roommate. He guides your hand up and down and it’s painfully fucking slow but he’s just happy to have your hands on him.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs. “Doin’ so good.”

You beam at the praise, pressing your thumb against the leaky slit of his pretty cock head. Megumi groans, leaning back on his elbows and tipping his head back. You continue the motion, eyes gleaming with pride and innocence as you just watch him fuck your hand.

His hips jerk up, his cock pulsing in your hand.

You suddenly feel the urge to press your lips to his tip and when you do, Megumi nearly cums like a fucking teenager. 

“F-Fuck,” he grunts, his hand unintentionally pulling your hair, forcing out a pretty moan from your lips. 

You take the tip in your mouth, your tongue flattening against the head. You wonder if you’re doing it right but the way Megumi groans and his hand pushes your head further down his length, you think you’re doing a pretty good job.

“Such a good girl,” Megumi sighs, “feels s’good.”

You moan at the praise, taking a little more of his length down your throat. Your hands are squeezing his thighs, nails scraping against the taut skin and Megumi is doing everything in his power to not fuck his cock down your throat.

You start to drool, saliva slipping down your chin and coating his pretty cock. You suddenly gag on his cock, the tip hitting the back of your throat. 

“F-Fuck,” Megumi feels his cock twitch at the cute fucking sounds you’re making. Your eyes are glassy, and you’ve got drool dripping down your chin and your cheeks are flushed so pretty. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby.”

You pump the base of his cock, your tongue clumsily swirling around his tip, eyes glued to him as you watch for his reactions. Megumi suddenly sucks in a breath and pulls your mouth off his tip with a quiet pop! quickly pumping his cock.

Hot ropes of sticky cum spill across your lips and face, Megumi tipping his head back with a deep groan, squeezing the base of his cock as it twitches and jumps.

“Fuck– you sure you’ve never sucked dick before– Oh, fuck.”

Megumi’s eyes dilate at the sight of his cum painting your pretty little face, your fingers swiping at the ropes of cum before you push them into your mouth, tasting him. 

“I do good?”

Megumi laughs breathlessly, “you did so good, baby girl.”

Megumi is quick to clean you up, using an old shirt to wipe the cum off your face while you sit there all pretty on your knees in front of him. He presses kisses to your face and your hair before pulling you into bed beside him, his fingertips tracing over your shoulder as you lay your head on his chest.

“You mean what you said?”

“Hm?”

“You like me?” You ask sweetly, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him.

Megumi sits up a bit, “I like-like you.”

“Wow. That’s a big call, Fushiguro.”

Megumi chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “remember it’s Megumi.”

“Gumi?”

“I like that too.”

“Mm, Megs?”

“Don’t push it.”

You giggle softly, curling into his side with a wide smile.

Megumi takes you to work and campus every day after that night, his hand always in yours when he walks you to class and he likes to pretend it annoys him how you wrap your hand around his arm and how you squeal his name when you see him after class.

When in reality, Megumi couldn’t be happier. In a twisted way, he’s glad you asked him if he hated you, because he was able to summon the courage to tell you the truth.

That he didn’t hate you. Not even a little.

author's note: the way i been pulling all nighters for DAYS. i was about to kill these two I TELL YOU JUST MAKE OUT PLS I CANT–

taglist: @starpachinko @2ukika @sukunabish @somethinglikero @wannabewolf @milliex01x @princessa143 @hrithi11 @katsukita69 @slayzzz @arcanefeelings @shirabu-k @izzzzzzig @zah2890 @evergumi @aerareads @flashilyquinn @raedollsstuff @happylildeath @anormieee @l1v1ngzomb1e @kimkimoruo @sunnyf4lls @saekolust @kalulakunundrum @xastoriaaurax @feliaeae @sleepyxzn

[nuyhado3o]

Maybe cupid won't miss

Salesman x fem!reader

Angst, 836 words

Warnings: *sigh* non-con, m*rdrer, implied kidnapping, genuinely sick, cannibalism, salesman is a complete psycho, manipulation, DDDNE

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Living in Seoul was boring, frankly annoying. The men were creepy, very creepy. It's not like you lived in a nice neighborhood either, not as if you could pay for a nicer house anyways.

You work so hard, and what do you get repayed? Late working hours, coming home at 11pm? Sadly, yeah, although if you had it your way you probably wouldn't change it. I mean, that's what you get, for not finishing school and all. Kinda depressing but realistic.

While basically sleepwalking, you haven't even realized the man walking towards you.

,,My bad, sorry" you wished it would've ended there, tired and hungry you just wanted to go home.

You never got to your front door though.

Well, it would've ended there if the man, who looked slightly ascrew, didn't insist on you playing a game with him.

,,I'm gonna be honest with you man, I'm so tired id gamble all my money off on you" his face grew impatient, ,,not that I have any" not caring about his age or authority.

,,Wouldn't such a lady your age like a new bag, or a new house even, you're too pretty to stay in this lower class hell"

Instinctly backing away and starting to walk in a random direction, hoping he'll give up, he obviously didn't.

,,Miss please wait!" He ran after you.

Jesus christ is this dude on acid or what?

,,what. -you said bluntly, what do you want from me, at this time in the night, I don't want to play your games"

He grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you closer to him, instantly you started to try and shimmy out of his grasp.

,,Listen lady if I don't get this, if I don't get you to play this, I'm going to shoot myself"

You stopped. Stared at him with wide eyes.

Kill himself? Because of a game? He's an asshole but if this means so much to him I'll do it.

,, I'll do it, only if you leave me alone after"

,,no promises"

Whatever the fuck that mea-

Waking up, it's dark, it took you a few seconds to understand your situation.

You're tied up, you're half naked, you laying there, where? You don't know, the dark is so consuming you're not even sure if you're conscious yet, it's so cold you don't even know if you're in a house or outside.

You didn't see the door open, ofcourse you didn't, how could you, you've been nothing but useless and if the situation you think is happening, it's guaranteed no one will ever wonder where your face went.

,,Sir what are you doing?

-shut the fuck up

His tone is dominant, making you forget why you even opened your mouth, blunt and sharp like a knife.

Or like a gun,

,,I can't tell what you think about me, but you're so beautiful, we're both dying anyways so you better fucking love me"

Your trying, you're really trying to move or, or just make yourself believe that you're here, not watching a movie in 1st person.

He's been talking but you haven't been listening

,,but all I really want is a kiss on the cheek, I don't ask for much! Your heart is literally what I want for lunch"

He sounded psychotic, he sounded sick, you knew your voice will never be heard so, you stopped trying.

Standing up, walking away, you relaxed.

,, you truly made my day, do you watch movies?"

He came back closer to you

,,do you?"

You slightly nodded, not knowing anything about cinema

Hmph.,nod

He came closer, took off your shirt, slowly, you thought you knew what was coming but; in reality it was so much worse than you thought.

Once you were bare, he took your hand, gracefully dragged it across his face, you though he was just being wierd but

*crack*

You saw yourself, faintly, kind of an angelic white in the air, as opposed to the dark black you saw just minutes ago.

But there you were, well half of you, draped across his body laying in the same place as you just were.

Youre forced to watch, he's violating you, in every way the word can be defined, you hear him whisper,

,,you're my lady, you taste so good"

,,such a pleasure for this to be the last thing I see"

He's fully talking to himself, or rather your dead body.

,,you're wishing you would've said yes now, don't you? Or maybe ran away."

He chuckled, he chuckled at himself.

You couldn't help but let your mind wonder to a time when your life wasn't this, half eaten, half dead.

Something snapped in him, instead of his easygoing way just a second ago, he looks in your dead eyes and yells

,, fuck you want from me? Why the fuck are you lookin at me like that."

As if he doesn't know.

*Open the goddamn door! We have you surrounded, motherfucker*

,,fuck it, Blaow"

A/n: hii......hello....hope you don't hate me now....so erm this was heavily inspired by Sarah by Tyler the creator, idk what drove me to write this but yeah🤷‍♀️ first and probably last time writing this kinda shit. REQUEST MORE NORMAL STUFF PLEASE IM IN NEED !!!!

[arminslovurrr]

"aita for purposely flirting with a waitress to make my gf mad so i could fuck her attitude away after?" is what asshole!suguru was typing on reddit, a cunning grin plastered on his face as he laid next to your sleeping frame, your arm slung over his chest, a bit of drool slipping past your slightly agape swollen lips. squinting a bit as his phone screen illuminating a white beam on his face.

you caught an attitude after your “sweet” boyfriend suguru who intentionally flirted with a waitress at a cafe you were so excited to take him to. like !?! he blatantly called the waitress pet names that he'd only call you, giving her the sweetest smiles, talking in the smoothest tone then tipping her very generously.

not to even get you started, but did she think you didn't see the way she eyed your man with big doe, occasionally batting her long eyelashes at him, suddenly speaking to him in a honeyed tone, leaning across the table to place sugurus alfredo infront of him, purposely showing the valley of her breast through her unbuttoned uniform shirt. steam was practically coming out of both of your ears, but like the classy girl suguru knew you were, you kept your mouth shut. only mugging her slightly, folding your arms across your chest, sighing loudly n rolling your eyes when she'd ask if suguru needed anything. just wanting to go home and tune suguru out

n what really pissed you off is how he kept trying to converse with you after the stunt he pulled !?! so obviously you ignored him on the car ride home while he asked you "what's wrong" he knows what's wrong!?! n then he’d ramble on about how the cafe was just lovely n how the waitress was so sweet ! it was like he wanted to see a vein about to bulge on your forehead. your eyebrows furrowed, arms folded over your chest, legs facing away from him as you stared out the window. when he tried to rest his hand on ur thigh, he'd glance at you then snicker at ur actions before returning his attention to the road with a small smile on his face

once you got home he gave you one more chance for you to tell him ur woes but instead you stomped away to your shared bedroom. making sure to slam the door behind you.

now he has you folded into a mating press, your legs bent and pressed against your chest as he held his forehead against yours, his breath lightly fanning your face. his pelvis pressed flush against the back of your thighs as he gave you achingly slow strokes, his eyes trained on the lewd expression plastered on your pretty face. he’d keep you on the edge of a mind blowing release, patiently waiting for you to tell him what’s wrong because asshole! suguru just has nooooo idea what he did !!??

you'd fight to keep your eyes open, your mouth slightly agape as pretty lil symphony's rush out of past ur lips "s-suguu- mmmngghh!" you whimpered, staring up at him with now half lidded eyes as his bulbous tip grazed your cervix.

"mhmm.. you gonna let me show you how sorry i am? hm?" he asked you lowly, when you didn't respond due to how intense you were feeling he'd slap you cheek "f-fuh.. oh my gosh-" you sigh not being able to finish ur sentence because of the constant drag of his length in ur confined gummy walls. "speak up sweetie, can't understand you- anghh" he groans as u rack ur nails through his inky strands. "i-i said.." you inhale trying to collect any sense that you still have "fuck youuuu shiiittt…." you groaned when he reached down to toy with your clit. “oh you dont mean that, sweet girl” he cooed as he reeled himself back slightly to stare down at where you two connected.

pulling his hips back to watch as a milky mixture of you both oozes down his pale cock. slowly pushing in and out, occasionally speeding up to get a reaction out of you. a gentle left hand caressing the apple of your cheek before giving it a firm slap, whilst his right thumb hooks under your swollen clit, flicking it up and down gently. “jus be a big hngh- girl n tell me what i did” his breath hitches, teetering on the edge of release as he’d been edging both you and him !!

"fuh-flirtin' with that girl right infrunna m-me.." he chuckles before sucking in a sharp breath at the active clench of your slick pussy. "c-cmon baby" his hips stutter, knowing he's nearing his peak. "you know im sorry, right?" he stares at you with hooded glossy eyes, his left hand coming back up to softly graze you cheek. "forgive me 'n you can cum on this cock, baby." for a second you'd probably think he was actually feeling really.. really apologetic, but knowing suguru he'd probably do it again just to have you in this position once more.

after being edged for so, so long, the word 'cum' leaving his mouth is all you want to hear from him right now. "fine! i f-forgive you sugu!" you cry out feeling him angle his hips up, so each stroke causes his fat cock to poke at that rugged, spongy part deep inside of you. white hot pleasure blinding you, "sa silent scream barely leaves your mouth before suguru presses his lips against yours. his long tongue finding yours as he sucks on it, moaning loudly in your mouth as he pushes you into overstimulation from his nonstop pounding.

if you were to open your eyes to see his face, you be met with a enchantingly chaotic sight. his long inky longs messier than usual, thin eyebrows furrowed with focus, with the prettiest rosy color wiping over his face. he looked pathetic. with one more gasp of your name against your lips, stilling his hips, hot splurts of his creamy seed spills into your awaiting womb, filling up ur tummy with warm ribbons of him. you whine feeling the warmth of him engulf you as he lets his body weight sink onto you.his once stiff cock, comfortable going limp inside of you. his cock acting as plug, keeping his seed snuggly inside of your gooey insides. he sighs deeply, nuzzling his face into your hair as the two of you bask in the afterglow of jealousy sex.

your eyes begin to fall heavy, wanting to succumb to sleep. "do you really forgive me, sweetie?" suguru teasing murmurs into your hair with a sleazy smile that you could pratically hear in that sentence plastered on his stupid face.

"fuck off."

an: suguru is unironically a reddit user, prove me wrong !! anywho yall finally get a work from me after months lololol, there’s no telling when i’ll be back but as always i love yallllllll

© arminslovurr 2023-25 , do not copy, translate, make ai chat bots or alter my work in any way.

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓉𝓎𝓅𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝜗𝜚 𝑔𝑒𝑜

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── · 

Geo has officially become my second favorite character in Tkatb. As an asexual person writing about another asexual-coded character, I have to say—he makes me feel seen. It’s like he literally can’t take his eyes off me (and let’s face it, with Geo, that’s more intense than romantic).

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

But let’s be serious: I love him platonically. Sorry Brittany.

So, of course, I’ll share my headcanons about Geo, some shared by other fans, and even a few from the game’s lore. And no, before you ask, I won’t be writing about Sol in this “Type of Boyfriend” trope. He’s the obvious main choice in the game, and countless talented writers have already explored that lane. 

Geo, however? His quiet, unsettling stares deserve its moment in the spotlight.

Okay, so let’s talk about Geo as a boyfriend. First of all, congratulations on making that happen. Like, seriously, how did you pull it off? 

Because let’s be real, Geo is not the type to just open his heart to anyone. This man’s walls are practically made of steel, and I’m sure it took some serious patience, persistence, and probably some sorcery to get him to even consider letting you in.

But hey, you did it. So now you’ve got yourself the most stoic, broody, and incredibly hot boyfriend. So let’s break it down! 

✑ The Silent Observer

Like said, getting close to Geo? Oh man, that was like trying to break into a vault without the code. And let’s be honest, at first, you probably weren’t even trying to get to him—he just happened to be standing there while you were hanging out with Crowe. But of course, Geo being Geo, he’d hit you with those cold, piercing stares that made you question every single life choice.

And don’t even get me started on his bluntness. He’s the definition of the strong, silent type. He only speaks when he thinks something needs to be said, which means you’re never getting any filler or small talk from him. It’s not that he’s rude—he just values words and doesn’t see the point in wasting them. 

He’d just say it. Straight up. No filter. 

However, he does talk—pretty much one sentence though, it’s worth listening to because you’ll quickly realize how sharp he is. Geo’s intelligence and observant nature are on another level too… 

The kind of observant where he notices *everything*. He’s like that one friend who knows all the drama without ever saying a word. While Brittany would spill the tea loudly and proudly, Geo keeps it all locked away in that steel trap of a brain. He’s always watching, analyzing, and probably always two steps ahead. It’s part of what makes him such a great strategist but also why he’s so cautious about trusting anyone.  

So, instead of running for the hills like most people would, you stayed. And that’s probably what made him start noticing you. You didn’t back off, didn’t try to change him, just kind of… stuck around. 

Geo doesn’t do well with people who push or pry, so the fact that you respected his space but still showed up? Yeah, that got to him. Even if he’d never admit it out loud.

What’s wild is that he notices everything. Stuff you didn’t even realize about yourself? Yeah, he’s clocked it already. He’s the kind of guy who remembers your favorite drink, the way you twirl your hair when you’re stressed, or even the exact date you mentioned something offhand weeks ago. It’s almost unsettling how much he takes in, but it’s also one of the ways he shows how much he cares.

He’s not the type to constantly shower you with compliments or grand gestures, but his quiet, steady presence speaks volumes. Geo’s the guy who will fix something for you before you even realize it’s broken or offer exactly what you need without you having to ask. 

And when he does open up or say something heartfelt? You know it’s real because he doesn’t just say things lightly.

✑ Low-key Romantic

Okay, let’s get real—Geo is not the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. If anything, he’s probably got it locked up in a box somewhere with a “Do Not Disturb” sign slapped on it. But here’s the thing: when Geo cares, he cares. Like, no half-measures. 

Once he lets someone in—which is a feat on its own—you have his full, unwavering loyalty. And let’s be honest, why would Geo want anyone else? He’s not the type to hop from person to person—when he chooses you, he chooses you.

I’m pulling his asexual card here because it just fits. Geo isn’t about flashy romance or grand declarations. For him, love isn’t in the words or PDA—mind you he HATES PDA—it’s in the quiet, consistent ways he shows up for you. He wouldn’t just call you his partner; he’d treat you like you’re the most important person in his life, even if he doesn’t say it outright.

And the way he shows his affection? It’s all in the details. Geo is hyper-observant—he probably knows you better than you know yourself. 

Again, he’ll pick up on the smallest things, like how you take your coffee or tea, the way your eyes light up when you’re excited, or how you’re always talking about that one book or game you’re obsessed with. And he’ll use that information to make your day in ways that feel effortless.

Expect random, thoughtful surprises. Maybe your favorite snacks just happen to appear on your desk when you’re having a rough day, or you’ll find tickets to that movie you’ve been dying to see in your bag without him saying a word. He’s not going to make a big deal about it either—he’ll just shrug it off like it’s no big deal, but deep down, he’s paying attention to every detail that makes you you.

Geo’s love language is subtle, sure, but it’s also steady and reliable. 

You won’t always see it coming, but you’ll feel it in the way he’s always quietly there for you, no matter what.

✑ Protective But Not Overbearing

Oh, Geo’s hella protective—like, protective to the point where you know he’s got your back no matter what. But don’t think for a second he’s the clingy or overbearing type. Nah, that’s not his style. 

He’s more of a silent sentinel kind of guy, keeping a close eye on everything while letting you do your thing. He trusts you to handle yourself, and honestly? That trust speaks volumes. He knows you’re capable, and he’s not about to baby you or hover like some overprotective shadow.

But let’s get one thing straight—if someone crosses the line with you? Game over. Geo might seem calm and composed most of the time, but when it comes to defending you, that sharp tongue of his comes out swinging. 

And let’s not forget the fact that he’s an archer. I’m just saying, if someone pushes too far, they’d better pray they’re not anywhere near a target. He wouldn’t need to say much—one cold glare, one well-aimed shot at a bullseye, and everyone around would get the message.

What’s even better is that Geo doesn’t make a scene about it. He’s not the type to start unnecessary drama or puff up his chest to prove something. He’ll shut down any nonsense with a few carefully chosen words or, if it comes to it, an intimidating presence that leaves no room for argument. 

He’s protective, yeah, but it’s in this quiet, no-nonsense way that just makes you feel safe without feeling suffocated.

And honestly? That balance is rare. He’s like your personal bodyguard without the need for the over-the-top theatrics. It’s not about control—it’s about making sure you know you’re valued and looked out for. 

And for Geo, that’s everything.

✑ A Hidden Heart

Geo’s not the type to be up in your face 24/7. Nah, for him, it’s all about quality over quantity. He’s perfectly fine with spending an hour sitting next to you in total silence, maybe reading or just walking side by side. 

You don’t even have to talk—he’s not big on words anyway. It’s the connection that matters to him, not the setting or how much time you spend together. 

To Geo, a quiet moment shared between just the two of you means more than any loud party or over-the-top date night ever could.

Now, let’s talk about Geo’s bluntness. We all know he’s sharp-tongued, unfiltered, and way too honest for his own good. It’s kind of his thing. But when it comes to you? That edge softens, and he tries—tries being the keyword here—to rein it in. He’s still going to tell you exactly what he thinks because, let’s be real, that’s just who he is. 

But with you, he’ll make the effort to phrase things more gently. You’re one of the very few people who gets that version of him, and let’s be honest, that’s kind of special. You get to see the side of him that’s not all sharp remarks and icy glares, the side that actually cares.

And while Geo might seem like this stoic, broody guy who doesn’t let anything faze him, he’s secretly a total softie when it comes to you. Again, he’s not going to smother you with hugs or drown you in words of comfort when you’re upset—that’s not his style. He’s not like Crowe T-T.

But he’ll be there. 

Sitting beside you when you’re crying, quietly handing you tissues, letting you lean on his shoulder without a word. He listens, like really listens, and you can feel his presence grounding you even when he doesn’t say much.

It’s not that Geo doesn’t care—he just shows it in his own way. A quiet walk, a softened tone, a steady shoulder to lean on. With Geo, love isn’t loud or flashy. It’s steady, subtle, and completely genuine.

✑ Tailored to You

Geo and the five love languages? Well… Spoiler alert: this man is low-key okay at all of them, even if he’ll never admit it.

— Words of Affirmation? 

So… Compliments? Yeah, don’t hold your breath. He’s not going to gush about how you’re the most incredible person on the planet. 

But when he does say something nice? Oh, it means something. If Geo tells you, “That was impressive,” just know he’s basically screaming, “I’m so proud of you” on the inside. And if you ever compliment him? Expect a half-hearted shrug and a muttered, “I guess,” but deep down, you know he’s preening like a cat that just caught a mouse.

— Acts of Service? 

This is where Geo shines. He’s not going to say, “I love you” outright, but he’ll carry your bag, or make sure you’re eating when you’ve had a rough day. 

Dating Geo means having someone who sees you, even when you think no one else does. He’s a protector, a confidant, and someone who keeps things real—all wrapped up in a broody, mysterious package. 

Need something heavy moved? Done. Can’t open a jar? No problem. He’s like a one-man life support system, quietly taking care of you while pretending it’s no big deal.

— Receiving Gifts?

Geo doesn’t do flashy gifts, but when he gives you something? It’s weirdly specific and thoughtful. Like, you’ll casually mention liking a certain anything once, and boom—it’s sitting in front of your door the next day. He’ll pretend it’s not a big deal, though. “Oh, I just saw it at the store,” he’ll say, even though you know he went out of his way to get it.

— Quality Time?

This one is Geo’s bread and butter. He’s all about meaningful moments. Forget big group hangouts or extravagant plans—he’d rather spend a quiet evening with you, just existing in the same space. You could be doing something as mundane as grocery shopping, and he’d still find a way to make it feel special. And if you’re both just sitting in silence, reading or scrolling on your phones? That’s peak romance for him.

— Physical Touch?

All right, let’s be real—Geo isn’t big on touchy-feely stuff. He’s the type to freeze up if someone hugs him unexpectedly. But with you? He warms up to it. He’s still awkward as hell at first, but over time, he’ll start initiating small touches—a hand on your shoulder, brushing hair out of your face, or even holding your hand when no one’s looking. And if you hug him? He’ll grumble about it, but he secretly loves it.

In conclusion? Geo’s love language is basically Geo Language—quiet, understated, and 100% tailored to you. He’s not going to shout his feelings from the rooftops, but if you pay attention, his actions scream, “You’re my person, and I’m not letting you go.”

✑ Tailored to Him

So you wanna know Geo’s love languages? As unique as he is and if we had to rank them, here’s the holy trinity that makes this stoic archer tick:

Geo is an independent guy, but even the most self-sufficient people need someone who understands them. He craves someone who respects his need for space but knows when to step in with the right kind of support.

— Acts of Service (His #1, obviously)

Geo isn’t the type to ask for help—he’s too independent for that. But when you step in and do something thoughtful for him without being asked? 

That’s how you win this man over. 

He’s got this quiet appreciation for when people notice the little things, like brewing him tea when he’s had a rough day or cleaning up his gear after practice. Bonus points if you surprise him with something related to his hobbies, like a rare Japanese opera recording or a new pot for one of his plants. Acts of service show him that you’re paying attention, and trust me, he notices.

— Quality Time

Geo doesn’t want loud, over-the-top outings or big social gatherings. In fact, the less noise and chaos, the better. What he really craves is quiet, intentional moments with someone who just gets him. 

Sitting together in a cozy home, tending to his potted plants, or watching the intricate art of shadow puppetry—these are the things that speak to his soul. Geo thrives in these quiet spaces where he can relax, reflect, and enjoy meaningful companionship. 

Just don’t interrupt if he’s hyper-focused on something. He’ll side-eye you into another dimension.

— Receiving Gifts

Okay, hear me out—Geo hates getting gifts, right? I mean, he literally burned the random Valentine’s Day presents people gave him that one time. Absolute menace behavior, but honestly? It’s kind of funny in a this-man-does-not-care way. But here’s the twist: Geo’s not against all gifts. He’s just very particular.

See, he doesn’t want over-the-top, flashy stuff. No giant teddy bears, love letters, heart-shaped balloons, or anything that screams “cliché.” If you even think about giving him something generic, he’ll give you that deadpan look that could shrivel your soul. However, thoughtful, personalized gifts? 

That’s a whole different story.

Picture this: you show up with a sleek, modern pot for one of his beloved plants, or maybe a rare variety of seeds that he hasn’t gotten his hands on yet. Geo would never say it out loud, but inside? He’s lowkey impressed. Or let’s say you score him tickets to a Japanese opera—something you know he’d appreciate but would never bother getting for himself. Now, that would leave him quietly staring at you like, “…You actually get me.”

And don’t even get me started on shadow puppetry. If you found a book about advanced techniques or a vintage lamp to use for creating the perfect shadows? You’d probably see the faintest flicker of a smile—like, barely there, but it counts.

With Geo, it’s not about spending a ton of money or going big. It’s about showing that you know him—that you’ve paid attention to his quirks, his hobbies, and the things that make him tick. When the gift reflects his personality and interests? 

That’s when you see the softer side of him, the part of him that’s secretly thinking, “How did I end up with someone like this?”

And yeah, he might not say that, because Geo and verbal affection are basically strangers. But the way he takes care of that plant pot or treasures that opera ticket? 

That’ll tell you everything you need to know.

✑ Cultural Depth 

Geo’s all about his Japanese roots, but he doesn’t go around making a big deal about it. It’s in the small things—the quiet traditions he carries, the way he’ll casually drop some next-level cultural knowledge.

— Sharing His World (Quietly)

Geo isn’t the type to throw you into the deep end of his culture, but if you hang around him long enough, he’ll start to let you in. It’s like a slow reveal in a really good book—you don’t even realize you’re getting hooked until you’re deep into it. 

He’ll start small, teaching you a word or two in Japanese. Nothing too complicated at first—basic phrases like arigatou or ohayou. God writing this is killing me…

But if you’re patient (and don’t butcher the pronunciation), he might hit you with the poetic, meaningful stuff. Like, “The moon tonight reminds me of home,” kind of poetic.

And food? Oh, he’s low-key a food snob, but in the best way. If he takes you out for sushi, don’t embarrass him by drowning it in soy sauce, okay? He might roll his eyes, but deep down, he’ll think you’re a lost cause. 

Bonus points if you ask him to show you how to make something traditional, though. Watching him calmly explain how to roll onigiri while being so exact about it? Weirdly cute.

— Secret Nerd Side

Geo doesn’t advertise it, but he has a soft spot for traditional Japanese arts. Shadow puppetry? Yeah, that’s a thing he knows. He won’t just show you for fun, though—you’ll have to ask and even then, it’s going to be, like, the most casual display ever. He’ll make a crane with his hands in the middle of a quiet moment, the shadow falling perfectly on the wall, and act like it’s no big deal. 

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, wondering if he’s secretly an 80-year-old trapped in a hot college guy’s body.

Oh, and don’t even get him started on Japanese opera. It’s his go-to when he needs to vibe or think. You might catch him with his headphones in, looking all stoic, and he’s probably listening to something hauntingly beautiful and dramatic. But good luck getting him to admit it.

✑ Such Spa Days

If there’s one thing you should know about Geo, it’s that he takes self-care very seriously. This man isn’t just about keeping clean—he’s practically the ambassador of flawless skin. His routine is a whole event, and don’t even think about interrupting it unless you want to be met with one of his signature cold stares.

Geo’s all about precision, from his perfectly tied low ponytail to his smooth, glowing complexion that looks like it came straight out of a skincare ad. He’s the guy who has a shelf full of serums, toners, face masks, and creams, all neatly organized by purpose and ingredient list. Oh, and he definitely uses products with names you can’t pronounce but that sounds expensive. He’s from the rich side of the society anyway…

Sunday nights? They’re sacred. You’ll find Geo in full spa mode, complete with a fluffy towel draped over his shoulders and maybe even some calming Japanese opera music playing softly in the background. He’ll light a candle (something subtle, probably sandalwood or green tea) and go through his routine like it’s a religious ceremony. Cleansing, exfoliating, masking—he’s got it all down to a science.

And don’t get him started on baths. Geo’s baths are an experience. He’ll fill the tub with just the right temperature water, toss in some herbal bath salts or a soothing bath bomb, and relax like he’s starring in a luxurious retreat commercial. He even has a book propped up nearby or maybe a cup of tea to complete the vibe.

The best part? Geo’s love for spa days isn’t just about himself—it’s an extension of his personality. He values control and discipline, and his skincare routine is a reflection of that. Every step, every product, is carefully chosen because it’s his way of staying grounded in a chaotic world.

Now, if you’re lucky enough to be part of his life, he might invite you into his sacred self-care space. Don’t expect anything over the top, though. Geo’s not going to gush about it, but he’ll casually hand you a face mask or suggest a product he thinks you’ll like. It’s his way of saying, “I care,” without actually saying it.

But be warned—if you touch his stuff without asking, he’ll probably give you a look that could freeze fire. He’s protective of his skincare collection, and for good reason. You’ll never forget the day you used his serum without permission and had to endure a five-minute lecture about “proper application techniques” while he looked genuinely offended.

Now, let’s get one thing straight: Geo’s devotion to skincare doesn’t just stop with himself. Oh no, if you’re doing it wrong, he will notice—and he will step in.

Say you’re casually applying his skincare collection one day, just slapping it on like it’s sunscreen at the beach. Geo, from across the room, will stop dead in his tracks, narrow his aquamarine eyes, and calmly say, “What are you doing?” in a tone that sends shivers down your spine. Before you can even protest, he’s already approaching with that look—the one that says, “I didn’t want to get involved, but you’ve left me no choice.”

Geo doesn’t offer to fix your skincare routine; he takes over. He’s not the type to sugarcoat it either. “You’re wasting product,” he’ll mutter, carefully squeezing the perfect amount of serum onto his fingertips before gently patting it into your skin. “And you’re supposed to press it in, not rub it like you’re sanding wood.”

And honestly? He’s ridiculously good at it. His hands are steady, his movements precise, and for someone who doesn’t talk much, he somehow explains every step with just enough detail to make you realize how little you knew about skincare to begin with.

Geo is not one for half-measures, so don’t be surprised when he starts rearranging your entire routine. Suddenly, you’ve got a multi-step process you never asked for, complete with double cleansing, toners, serums, and a nightly mask rotation. You didn’t even know what a niacinamide serum was before, but now you have one, and you’re using it correctly, thank you very much.

The funniest part? Geo never complains about doing your skincare. He acts mildly exasperated, sure, but you catch the tiniest flicker of pride when your skin starts glowing like his. 

And while he’d never admit it out loud, he secretly likes having an excuse to take care of you. It’s his way of showing he cares without all that messy emotional talk.

But if you dare to slack off? Oh, you’ll hear about it. “You didn’t put on sunscreen today, did you?” he’ll ask, his tone low and judgmental as he crosses his arms. “Don’t come crying to me when you age prematurely.” And yet, despite all the teasing, he’ll still hand you his favorite SPF because, deep down, he can’t stand the idea of you not taking care of yourself.

At the end of the day, Geo’s skincare obsession isn’t just about looking good—it’s about discipline, self-respect, and now, begrudgingly, making sure you’re glowing just as much as he is. 

In the end, Geo’s love for spa days isn’t just a quirky habit—it’s part of what makes him who he is. It’s his way of maintaining balance, staying composed, and, let’s be honest, looking damn good while doing it. 

✑ So Damn Competitive

Don’t let Geo’s stoic, “I’m too cool to care” vibe fool you—this man is surprisingly competitive. Like, you’d think someone who’s all about calm and control wouldn’t get riled up over a board game, right? Wrong. The moment you pull out a board game or even a deck of Uno cards, you’re witnessing a transformation. Same too…

Geo doesn’t just play to win—he plays to crush. He’s not loud about it, though. Oh no, Geo’s trash talk is subtle but devastating. “That’s an… interesting move,” he’ll say, his aquamarine eyes glinting with quiet smugness as he places his piece exactly where it’ll ruin your entire strategy. And let’s not even get started on trivia night. This man has an encyclopedic knowledge of random facts, and he’ll flex it in the most deadpan way possible.

But here’s the best part: Geo will let you win sometimes—just don’t expect him to admit it. He’ll subtly fumble a move in Jenga or conveniently “forget” the answer to a question during trivia, all while keeping that unreadable poker face. If you call him out on it? “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he’ll say, completely straight-faced, as if he didn’t just let the tower fall on purpose.

The funniest part is how petty he can get when he doesn’t win. Like, say you beat him in a cooking challenge (because your pancakes were objectively fluffier). He won’t throw a fit, but you’ll catch him side-eyeing your plate like it personally offended him. “Your syrup-to-pancake ratio is off,” he might mutter under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

But his competitive streak isn’t all bad—it’s actually kind of adorable. If you’re struggling with something, Geo will quietly make it his mission to help you improve. 

Trying to get better at a sport? Let’s use Kyūdō, in other words, the Japanese martial art of archery. It started as you’d expect—Geo, all serious and instructor-like, standing behind you to adjust your posture, his hands steady as they guided yours. “Hold it like this,” he’d say, his tone calm and precise. You could tell he was in his element, and honestly? 

He’s kind of hot when he gets all focused like that.

At first, you weren’t great. The arrows went everywhere except the target and Geo’s quiet sighs of exasperation were hilarious. But instead of getting frustrated, he’d patiently explain what you were doing wrong, occasionally muttering things like, “It’s not that hard,” under his breath.

But then something shifted. One day, it just clicked. Suddenly, your arrows weren’t just hitting the target—they were landing dead center. 

Every. Single. Time.

Geo’s reaction? Priceless. He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel his aquamarine eyes narrowing as he watched your shots. “Beginner’s luck,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

Except it wasn’t luck. You kept getting better. So much better, in fact, that you started beating him.

The first time it happened, you expected him to be annoyed. But instead, he just stared at the target, then at you, and said, “You’ve been practicing without me.” (Spoiler: You hadn’t.)

From then on, Geo challenges you to little games—first one to hit three bullseyes, trick shots, you name it. And every time you won, you’d catch that subtle crease in his brow like he couldn’t quite believe it.

But despite his bruised ego, Geo was secretly proud of you. You’d catch him smiling—just barely—when you weren’t looking, and if anyone else tried to challenge you? Oh, he’d brag like crazy. “She’s the best shot here,” he’d say, completely deadpan, like he wasn’t lowkey sulking about the fact that you’d surpassed him.

Watching Geo try to outshoot you while pretending he wasn’t bothered was half the fun, you know it’s eating him up inside. “Good game,” he’ll say, his tone perfectly neutral, while internally plotting his revenge for next time.

 It’s all part of the charm, though. 

✑ You’re His Safe Space

Okay, I know—Geo and PDA? They’re not exactly besties. He’s not the guy to be all over you in public; in fact, he hates it.

Holding hands? Brings too much attention.

Kisses in front of people? Absolutely not.

He’s got that whole “reserved and composed” thing going on, and the idea of being openly mushy in front of others? Yeah, hard pass.

But here’s the plot twist: when it’s just the two of you? Total cling mode.

When Geo’s guard is down, he’s secretly so affectionate it’s almost like a plot twist you didn’t see coming. Imagine this: you’re just minding your own business—maybe reading, scrolling on your phone, or binge-watching something—and out of nowhere, you feel his arms snake around you. He doesn’t say a word; he just pulls you close, resting his chin on your shoulder or burying his face in your hair like it’s his personal safe haven.

It’s his way of saying, “You’re my peace,” without actually having to string the words together. Subtle? Yes. Effective? Absolutely.

Geo isn’t heartless—not by a long shot. He cares so much, he just doesn’t always know how to package those feelings into neat little boxes with bows on top. He’s the type to skip the love letters and dramatic proclamations and go straight to showing you how much you mean to him.

Actions over words, always.

And okay, let’s be real—some of us can relate to that. Maybe feelings aren’t the easiest thing to express, so we see a bit of ourselves in Geo. It’s not that he’s cold or distant; he’s just navigating his emotions in his own quiet way. And when he finally lets his guard down? That’s when you see his true colors.

After pulling you close, Geo turns you around, his hands lingering gently on your arms. His touch is feather-light, deliberate, as though he’s giving you a moment to realize what’s happening. He pauses, his fingers brushing against your lips in a way that sends a quiet thrill down your spine.

His eyes lock onto yours for a heartbeat—then they drop to your lips, lingering there just long enough for you to feel the tension in the air. When his gaze meets yours again, there’s something unspoken in his expression, a question he doesn’t need to say out loud: Is this okay?

And then, he leans in. It’s not rushed or overly dramatic; it’s a simple, slow movement like he wants to savor every second. His lips meet yours softly at first, testing, then growing a little firmer as he presses closer. It’s the kind of kiss that says a thousand things he wouldn’t dare put into words—trust, vulnerability, and a quiet kind of devotion he’s still figuring out how to show.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm and steady as he lingers there for a moment. It’s like time stops, and nothing else matters except the two of you in that little bubble of intimacy.

Geo’s not about grand gestures or big, romantic speeches. But this? This is his way of telling you everything. His actions speak volumes, and each small touch, each lingering look, is filled with a kind of tenderness that words could never capture.

And maybe that’s the most Geo thing about him—he doesn’t need to shout his love from rooftops or drown you in cliché romance. Instead, he gives you moments like this. Moments that feel raw, honest, and entirely yours. Moments where he silently tells you, “You’re my world,” without ever saying a word.

Trust me, it’s worth the wait.

✑ Flaws? There’s a few…

Now nobody’s perfect—not even our polished, broody archer. Geo’s got his fair share of flaws, and honestly? They add to his charm in that I-don’t-know-why-I-like-this-but-I-do kind of way. 

First of all, he’s stubborn as hell. Geo’s stubbornness could rival a brick wall and spoiler: you’re not winning an argument against him. Once his mind is made up, that’s it—game over. Whether it’s something as simple as how to fold laundry (he has a system) or something as big as life choices, he sticks to his guns like they’re glued to him. 

Convincing him to budge? Good luck; you’ll need it.

Second, he doesn’t believe in second chances. Mess up once, and that’s it—you’re done. Geo’s not the type to forgive and forget; it’s more like, “You did what? Cool, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” He’s incredibly selective about who he lets in, so if someone breaks his trust, they’re out for good. 

It’s harsh, but for Geo, it’s about protecting himself.

Third, picky with a Capital P. Geo’s the kind of person who knows exactly what he wants, and if something doesn’t meet his standards? Nope. He’s picky about everything—his appearance (always flawless), his environment (no mess, no chaos), and even the people he surrounds himself with. 

If you’re lucky enough to pass his “quality control,” congrats, you’ve made it to the inner circle.

Lastly, Geo’s got walls on walls. He’s not about to open up to just anyone, and even once he does, it’s a slow process. He’s constantly watching, analyzing, and second-guessing people’s intentions. It takes someone special to get through that, and even then, he might still keep certain things locked away.

So, What Does This All Mean?

Geo’s flaws can make him seem intimidating and hard to approach, but they’re also part of what makes him so uniquely him. His stubbornness shows his determination, and his lack of second chances highlights how much he values loyalty and his pickiness. Well, it’s just another way he shows that he’s got high standards—whether for himself or the people around him.

At the end of the day, Geo’s trust issues are a double-edged sword. They make him fiercely loyal to the people he *does* trust, but they also mean it takes a long time for him to get there. 

Still, if you’ve made it into his inner circle, congrats—you’re probably one of the few people he truly feels safe with. And that? That’s priceless.

Is he perfect? Nope. 

But would we want him any other way? Not.

✑ Thoughts + Ranting

Okay, let’s get this out of the way again: Geo has serious trust issues. And honestly? Can you blame the guy? He’s been through (we don’t know about) so much that his walls aren’t just up—they’re basically a fortress complete with a moat, a drawbridge, and probably a dragon or two guarding the gate.  

Here’s the deal: nobody really knows Geo. Like, we know he’s loaded, he’s ridiculously good with a bow, and he has a death glare that could probably stop traffic. But beyond that? Nothing. It’s like his life story is classified information, and we’re all just stuck guessing what’s in the classified files.  

So anyway, Geo used to be High Class—fancy, untouchable, the whole package—but then bam some kind of near-accident happened, and he got booted down to the Low-Class building. Can you imagine the whiplash? Going from being at the top of the food chain to the bottom? That kind of thing doesn’t just bruise your ego; it leaves emotional scars. 

And let’s be real, Geo doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to sit down and talk about his feelings and thoughts.

And then there’s Hyugo, Geo’s stepbrother and certified mortal enemy. 

If you’ve played the game, you already know the vibes. Mention Hyugo’s name around Geo, and boom—instant disgust. Like, man doesn’t even try to hide it. His whole face scrunches up like he just smelled expired milk. And then, he hits you with the classic, “Nope, we’re not talking about that.” No explanation, no backstory, just vibes. It’s lowkey hilarious how much he’s committed to pretending Hyugo doesn’t even exist. For me.

I feel like Hyugo has something to do with Geo’s big fall from High Class. Like, maybe Hyugo was the one who caused whatever accident messed up Geo’s status. Was it on purpose? Was it an accident? Who knows! But Geo clearly decided, “Yeah, you’re dead to me.” Now, the name “Hyugo” might as well be a four-letter word in Geo’s dictionary.

And then there’s Crowe—the only person Geo actually trusts. And you know that didn’t happen overnight. Crowe probably had to work overtime, chipping away at Geo’s defenses like he was mining for gold. It was probably like:

Crowe: “Hey, let’s be friends.” Geo: Stares in suspicion for six months straight. Crowe: “Alright, cool, I’ll wait.”

If it took Crowe that long to get through, what does that mean for literally anyone else? Good luck, because Geo ain’t handing out trust like candy.

Now, let’s talk about you. Geo doesn’t say much to you, but the way he just… stares at you? Constantly? It’s like he’s trying to solve some crime scene in his head and you’re the number-one suspect. You’re just standing there like, “Uh, did I do something wrong? Or do I just look suspicious?”

Honestly, it’s so awkward and funny. Like, dude, either spill whatever you need to say or stop looking at me like that. But nah, Geo’s gonna stay quiet, because why use words when you can silently judge someone instead?

That’s the Geo experience in a nutshell.

Maybe he doesn’t trust you because of something to do with Crowe—like, maybe he thinks you’re toying with Crowe’s feelings ouch, judgmental much?. Or—plot twist—he’s onto something way bigger. What if he already knows you’re being stalked by whatever creepy thing is lurking in the shadows, and he’s just keeping tabs to figure out why it’s after you?

Who knows?

But here’s the thing about Geo: in the game, he’s not super complicated to figure out. He’s more of a supporting character—like that mysterious friend everyone secretly simps for but who tragically isn’t dateable. Pain. He’s just this quiet, chill dude with sharp words, killer aim, and a ponytail that probably smells like fancy shampoo. And somehow, he’s still everyone’s type. Go figure.

So yeah, Geo’s like a locked box made of solid silver—fancy, mysterious, and absolutely refusing to open. Respect the whole “keeping it classy” vibe, but come on, man—just crack the lid a little!

We’re starving for answers!

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── ·

[thegreatstoryteller]

The Great Shift: Awkward Tales - Vignette 1: The Nervous Flirt

When the Great Shift hit the world, everyone was thrown into chaos. However, eventually society resettled into a new and more accepting form. At some point everyone would have to get used to their new bodies… right?

Well for a few individuals out there, after the great shift, they still were… adjusting. No matter how much time happened, some were cursed with an awkward new perspective in life. 

Maxwell, was nervous. More nervous than usual! Before the great shift, he had recently come out as gay to his close friends and family! While, they were all super accepting and happy for him, that didn’t solve his issues… talking to people he liked! No matter how many times he tried, he would turn into a stuttering mess whenever a hot guy was in the vicinity. He was lucky enough that his small unassuming frame meant no one could see his failures.

When the great shift happened, he thought things might be different.  New body! New me! That was the mantra he’d heard many people say as he had browsed forums and self help spaces. Turns out many people just needed a new body to reorient their social skills and  come out of their shell! At first Maxwell thought he’d be one of them!

He knew that he was a lot stronger in this body. He still wore his glasses, but these arms were no joke. Plus he didn’t have any skin issues anymore and he finally had some decent facial hair to work with! It all seemed to add up to something of a turning point for his life. 

That wasn’t the case.

Turns out a new body came with the same issues PLUS a few new ones too. Maxwell couldn’t form a straight sentence around hot guys, even newly hot guys who had never been hit on before! Even if Maxwell was just as handsome and good looking, his words fell apart at the slightest bit of attraction. Not only that, but his pool of attraction doubled. Apparently the guy he’d become was bisexual and loved flirting with men and women! So now not only did hot men make his speech a mess, but beautiful ladies did as well! A single hot woman could ruin his night if she asked for directions! A studly man asking if he wanted a drink would have him run out of the bar! No matter what seemed to happen, Maxwell was still an awkward dork.

Going from 5’5 to 6’2 didn’t help either. Now everyone could see this towering confident stud look like a complete fool! And his quick escapes were a thing of the past since every time he tried to run away he’d trip over his large size 15 feet. The last time he tried to flee from a failed flirt he knocked over two waiters and spilled 3 drinks over the person he was talking to. He needed some help. 

His friends did their best to console him, but even they had difficulty finding a clear solution. 

“Come on dude, you’ve got to stop biting your nails!” Beth, his best friend since college said after another night of failed flirting.

“I’m sorry Beth!” Maxwell whined in his new voice. Previously that expression was met with more nasally tones, but now even his wines made such flirtatious sounds when it came out of his new deep voice. “I just can’t stop thinking about that couple that asked if I wanted to join them tonight. The guy was soooo hot! He was like some kind of bodybuilder! And the girl! She could’ve been a super model. And i just froze and ran away!”

“It’s ok. I know that you want to pursue a relationship post shift. There’s no shame in striking out. Lots of people are having a hard time finding love.” Beth chimed in trying to comfort her friend.

“Easy for you to say. You and your fiance got Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth’s bodies! And you’re still together!” Maxwell complained, burying his head in his pillow, still shirtless and showing off his impressive arms.

“I… I admit. We did get lucky. I know all our friends love Marvel, and my fiance and I are mega nerds… and the role play in the bedroom is fun and-”

“Beth!”

“Sorry! I just mean, that nothing is hopeless.  You’ll find what you’re looking for soon. And hey, if it helps you can try flirting with me and Erin tonight.” Beth offered.

Maxwell blushed… and then slowly nodded. Maybe flirting with two of his biggest celebrity crushes would solve his issue after all.

[boybandbaby]

Out of My Mind (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Non-BAU!Reader)

note: connected to this fic but you don’t need to read it to understand

word count: 1719

warnings: mentions of killers and abductions, protective!hotch, mean!hotch (not even really but it happens for like a fraction of a second), mini argument, mini angst and fluff, established relationship, age gap (not mentioned or specified in this fic)

Aaron was working on a local case. While he was technically less than an hour away from you, he felt so far away.

To your surprise, he had called before your schedule lunch time phone call.

He omits a greeting, “Are you going grocery shopping today?”

“Well, hello to you Agent. Wasn’t planning to. You need me to grab those yogurts for Jack again? He runs through them far too quickly.”

“No, no nothing like that. Just try to avoid going there today. Or anywhere if you can help it.��� His voice is in unit chief mode.

“Care to tell me why?”

“It’s confidential but it would make me feel better since I can’t be with you right now.”

“Whatever you say boss.” You smile.

“Good. Thank you. Also, you’ve gotten Jack addicted to those yogurts. He’s burning a hole in my wallet buying those things. Let’s not even talk about the sugar rush he gets.”

“He already has so much energy. It’s like having two of him.” You laugh.

“Wouldn’t that be something. Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later, honey. I love you, stay safe for me.”

Hotch is always worried about you but knowing there’s a killer running loose near by and the only connection is that all the victims frequent the shopping plaza. It’s the one closest to your apartment, the grocery store you shop at, that’s the reason he worries. The victims all vary in age and looks, so it’s not impossible that you could be hurt or killed by this maniac.

Hotch and the team work hard to find any leads by interviewing employees and customers, checking surveillance cameras and scoping out the area.

The team are back at the office hours later, tossing ideas and theories around when Hotch gets a call that there’s been another abduction. He knows, based on the previous victims that they don’t have much time before her body shows up.

His heart quickens as he’s told that the woman hasn’t been identified yet. That’ll only make their job harder. It’s when he hears that the woman has the same hair color and skin color as you, does he feel a dull ache is his chest and a ringing in his ears.

He hangs up the phone and places a hand on his stomach. He feels sick, almost on the verge of passing out. Rossi is the first and only one to notice his distress, the others having taking a short meal break to sharpen their minds.

Rossi pulls a chair out for Hotch and guides him to sit. “What happened?”

“Dave, there’s been another abduction.” Hotch sighs.

Rossi waits for more because he knows this reaction means there’s a personal aspect to it. Hotch relays the known information and asks Dave to break the news to the team.

Hotch takes a deep breath and quickly calls you. It rings and rings until your voice says, “Sorry I can’t get to the phone right now. Leave a name and number and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Bye!”

“Y/n, it’s Aaron. Please give me a call when you get this. Bye.”

He hangs up, dialing again. Ring ring. Ring ring. “Sorry I can’t get to the phone right now. Leave a name and number-“

He groans and squeezes the phone in his right hand. He gets the same ring ring and “Sorry I can’t get to the phone right no-“

“Y/n, please pick up. I need you to call me right away.” He calls 4 more times, not only his frustration but his fear kicking in.

He hardly ever texts. Most of your message chain is pictures or little messages from you when he’s away. He rarely responds save for an occasional I love you or I’ll be home soon but you’re both aware of how much your texts mean to him while he’s away.

He sends a multitude of messages in the span of a minute.

Where are you?

Y/n, I’m worried.

Please call me.

Answer your phone, sweetheart.

I’m coming over.

He tells Dave he has a quick emergency and he’ll be back as soon as he can. Dave doesn’t question it, he’s the only one who knows about you at the moment so he figures it’s got something to do with you.

Hotch doesn’t bother with his jacket or briefcase. He grabs his keys and sets out to your apartment. He’s only been there twice, once to pick you up for a date and second, to watch a movie together.

He speeds like a mad man, not slowing for yellow lights or using his blinker as he weaves through cars.

It’s not much of a struggle getting into your building. He’s quick on his feet as he moves to the elevator. It’s unlike him but he pushes the elevator call button more than once. He knows however many times he presses it, it’s still going to come at the same speed.

The elevator dings and he rushes into the small box. That’s what it feels like as he loosens his tie. He’s suffocating, on the verge of a panic attack.

The doors open and he rushes out, an old woman scoffing at his lack of manners. He can’t seem to care or apologize as he knocks rapidly on your door.

The pounding is loud, loud enough to wake up in the other room. You hear your name being called out as you check your phone for the time. You see the various notifications and scramble to throw on something decent.

When you finally answer the door, groggy and ridden with sleep, he starts off with, “Where the hell have you been?” His voice is loud and you can see how mad he is with the way his brows furrow and his body is stiff.

“Excuse me?” Aaron has never been rude with you like this. It’s brought you out of your sleepy stupor.

“You don’t know how to answer your phone? I’ve been calling you and texting you.” He shakes the phone in his hand to emphasize his point.

“And I’ve been sleeping.” You cross your arms and shift to one hip. “Why are you being mean to me?” It’s meant to come out with some spunk and attitude but your voice wobbles.

Aaron’s struck with the realization that he’s hurt you. Aaron is not a mean man, stern and serious but never mean. At least never to you. He’s speechless for a moment, only a small moment as he tries to recollect his thoughts.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He sighs, shoving his phone in his pocket. “I’m being unjust.”

You’re taken aback by his quick apology and give a short nod. You open the door wider and allow him to step inside.

“What’s going on, Aaron?” You close the door behind him and turn to see him pacing. His hands are on his hips and he’s staring down at the floor.

“I-“ He stutters, looks up at you and opens his arms. “I’m sorry. I projected onto you. I was just worried.”

“Is this about the whole ‘don’t go to the grocery store’ thing?” You step into his arms. You’re both wrapping your arms around the others’ lower back, arms tangled, pelvis to pelvis.

“Yeah…” He never speaks about work matters to you but decides it may be the only way to get out of the dog house, though he’s not sure he deserves it. “There’s been another body. The description of her, she had similar traits to you. They haven’t been able to identify her and I immediately thought the worst.”

“Well, I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m sure I didn’t help your situation by not answering. I really was just sleeping, handsome. You advised me not to go out today and I got bored so I took a nap. I hear that you’re a pretty good agent so I figured I’d listen to you and stay in.”

He laughs, it’s strange and unfamiliar the way it comes out and how it sounds. It’s a half sob and half laugh. It’s not a sound you’ve heard from him. He’s relieved that 1. you’re alive and well and 2. that you don’t seem to be as mad at him as you should be.

But you know his job and you know what he’s been through so you cut him some slack. “I know you’re worried but I promise I’m safe. I’m good, Aaron. If I felt scared or that I was in danger, I would let you know. I’m sorry my ringer was off. I promise to keep it on moving forward.”

“I would greatly appreciate it.” He leans forward to rest his forehead on yours.

“And instead of breaking down my door, I can give you my spare key. That way you can come check up on me whenever you’d like. Maybe even stop by for a visit when you’re free and missing me.” You kiss his cheekbone, just under his left eye. “How does that sound?”

“That sounds great.” He closes his eyes and leans into your lips. “God, can’t believe I was such a jerk.”

“You’re just protective. It’s sweet. Though I’ll say I’m not a huge fan of you raising your voice. It’s unlike you.” You mumble against his skin.

“I know.” He sighs, “maybe I need one of those naps you talk about.”

“A nap would be good. Maybe get rid of your grumpiness and finally get some rest.”

“I have to head back and finish the case. I’ll be late tonight but maybe we can have a late dinner. I’ll come back and use my key for the first time.” He doesn’t realize it but he’s swaying your bodies, almost like a slow dance.

“I’ll cook us up something. Just text me what you want.”

“Just make sure your ringer is on.” He kisses your jawline. “Or I might have a heart attack.”

“My apologies Mr. Hotchner. Now go, get back to work.”

“Bye, sweetheart. Oh and apologize to Mrs. Carter for me. I almost tackled her when I exited the elevator.” He sheepishly adds before running out the door.

“Aaron!” You grumble. “She already hates me!”

You hear his deep laughter down the hallway and descend into the elevator.

[jareaul0ver]

I love you, I'm Sorry

wc: 978 warnings: angsty but a happy ending! pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader

A/N: omg im actually posting?? don't get used to this i go back to school soon and probably wont post anything til either spring break or the summer

Two Years Ago

You were pacing around your apartment, waiting for Nika to come over like she said she would.

Nika's been your unofficial girlfriend for a while, but you never put a label on what you had.

But she was leaving for the W soon, and you either wanted all or nothing with her.

A few minutes into your pacing, there was a knock on the door. You walked over and opened it, seeing Nika's smiling face. "You wanted to talk?" She said.

You nodded and invited her in. "Do you want anything to drink? Coffee or tea?"

Nika shook her head and sat down on your couch. "I'm okay, thank you."

A small sigh left your body as you went over and sat down, leaving a bit of space between the two of you just in case everything went south.

"What's this about?" She asked cautiously.

You took a deep breath and leaned back into the couch a little. "You're leaving soon, and-"

"That doesn't mean this has to end, if that's where you're going with this," Nika interjected.

A small frustrated sigh left your lips. "What even is this, Nika? Are we girlfriends? Or just casually fucking?" She stayed silent and you just scoffed. "It's your choice, either we put a label on this, or I'm done."

The last thing Nika wanted was to completely lose you, but she didn't like the ultimatum you were giving her. "That's not fair, I need to focus on basketball-"

"And just lead me on the whole time? Have me thinking we could be something more, even though we never will be?" You tried to keep your voice steady, but it was getting difficult.

She sighed and stood up. "I- I'm sorry, but I can't do this," she said before grabbing her things and walking to the door.

You stood up and watched her. She was so ready to leave, no hesitation. "So that's it then? You're just leaving?"

Nika's jaw twitched and she stared at you for a moment. "I"m sorry," she mumbled before opening the door and leaving, letting it close behind her.

You forced your eyes away from the door and looked out the window, watching the May atmosphere warming up the world, but it felt so cold in your apartment without Nika.

It hadn't been that long since Nika left for the W, and everyone already loved her. She charmed everyone she met, other players, fans, the media.

It's like she trained herself, got lessons on how to be a people person. She never was before. She was always polite, but kept to herself.

Except around you. You always were able to break down her walls and see what was really going on with her, how she really was.

But now you see this people pleaser on TV and social media, and all you can do is complain to your friends about it.

Two Summers from Now

After a while, you had managed to get over Nika. Well, more so over what happened with her.

You'd always have a soft spot for the girl, she saw you and supported you at your worst, and you could never stop loving her because of it.

It was ironic. You were about to head out to Seattle to visit some friends, and Nika was about to get on a plane back to Storrs to see her friends.

At this moment, you broke no contact with her. You sent her a text, hoping she didn't have you blocked, or that she didn't change her number.

You were a little surprised to see an answer from her short after you sent the message. The two of you ended up talking about life, realizing that just maybe, you could be cool with her.

She gave you some advice about Seattle, and you let her know how excited the other UConn girls would be to see her again.

The next few days went by in a blur. You were in Seattle, taking in the scenery, leaning out the window of your hotel and having a drink.

I love you, I'm Sorry

You were still in Seattle. You didn't realize that Nika had messaged your friends, asking what hotel you were at and your room number.

She came back early, and she wanted needed to see you before you left. She wanted to attempt to fix things.

Nika's feelings for you never left. She knew that she reacted badly when you told her what you wanted, and she wasn't sure that she could forgive herself for walking away so easily.

But she at least needed you to know that she still loved you.

At about 10pm that night, there was a knock on your hotel door. You looked over in confusion before getting up from your bed and walking over.

You opened the door, and it was like everything from the past few years came flooding back. "Nika?" You invited her inside. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to say sorry for everything. For the way I reacted back then, I was a dick about it, and you didn't deserver any of it," she said.

You were speechless, so she took it as her que to keep going. "I was the worst, and every time I go for a drive I think about the ones we used to take to clear our heads. I swear, it haunts me-" She cleared her through.

"Nika-" You said, but she cut you off.

"I still love you, I'm sorry." The words fell from her lips so effortlessly, you couldn't help but want to give in and see where it led.

So you did. You caved and rushed up to her, pressing your lips against hers.

It lasted for a few seconds before you rested your forehead against hers. "I love you, and I'm sorry, too."