#the way she's looking at him when he's carrying her OH MY GOODNESS

[meelusinee]

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT ✦ M.R x READER

in which mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time

pairing: lovesick!mattheo riddle x reader

tags: lovesick mattheo, fem reader, so tamino inspired

word count: 3.7k

warnings: just fluff again! along with easily flustered mattheo (+ teasing theo)

author's note: my second post!! i made a small playlist of tamino songs i used for mattheo in this. if you haven’t, please go listen to him (his music is so good). i based this off a small part of my first fic where theo sang to reader. as always, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

Mattheo didn’t know much about love. 

Between being raised by a dictator and his craziest follower, he already didn’t have a very good start. Especially whenever he would get in trouble, the Cruciatus Curse was definitely no joke. Not to mention everyone pestering him about the legacy he led. News flash to the Gryffindors who would try to pick on him, he found it quite obvious that he was Voldemort’s son.

Suffice to say that he didn’t know much about love. He never had a true showcase of it, never had an example of it to compare to anything. The closest he ever had being another stunted teenager by the name of Theodore that considered him his brother, but even then there was still distance.

That was until he met you.

You, the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire existence on this Earth. Anything he  lol looked at on you he would find absolutely perfect, from the color of your eyes to the way your hair bounced in the sunlight.

That alone made it hard to approach you. Your nice demeanor seemed to make it even harder.

So, he settled with admiring from afar. Mattheo knew your schedule, the classes that you would take and every time that it varied. He would subtly watch you in classes, hang around the same areas you did during your break periods, or even where you went for fun. And, to the best of his ability, he tried to avoid things that looked bad. No more fights or cursing, not unless he was truly provoked.

His mind also got its grubby hands on the idea of a journal. A place he could write about you freely, one he charmed so only he could read it. Entries, song ideas, anything he could think of. You made him an artist, you as his perfect muse.

And it all got even better when you two finally met.

You had just walked down to the courtyard, Mary Janes clacking along the rocks as you made your way over to a small pillar.

Recently, you noticed someone sitting by the pillars a lot more than usual. He was tall, his face usually covered by his brown curls as he wrote inna small journal he always carried with him. Said tall man with a face covered by his brown curls was your current potions partner, you had both been assigned to create a Liquid Luck potion.

“Hello?” you called out gently. face tilted down just a bit as you looked down at him. His eyes locked with yours when he looked up, the most beautiful shade of molten honey you had ever seen meeting your eyes. “Hi there, stranger.”

“Hello?” he whispered back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. His face looked rather cute when it was all scrunched up like that, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“I’m your Potions partner.” you said with a smile, flattening your skirt before moving to sit down next to him. “For the Liquid Luck project.”

“Oh,” he whispered, nodding as he closed his journal. It had a rather pretty leather cover, the pages aged and covered in ink from what you could tell. “Yeah, I remember. Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. “And you’re Mattheo.”

“Yes I am.” he said, a soft smile coming on his face as he heard that. He looked at you with something special in his eyes, eyes that carved themselves deep into your soul with the most intricate patterns you could think of.

The trance both of you seemed to be stuck in was broken when he cleared his throat, fingers tapping on his journal. “Did you have any ideas for the project?”

“Oh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yes, yes I do. I was thinking that we head to the library and research different potion methods and whatnot. Based on Slughorn’s instructions, I’m assuming that the instructions in the books won’t help much.”

“You’re a genius.” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“What was that?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat as he began to sit up. “Do you want to go now?”

Mattheo thought that he was dreaming, if he was being honest.

The girl of his dreams, the girl that he had wrote almost obsessively day and night about for almost six years, that same girl was currently sitting across from him. Laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” she smiled at his joke, her voice sweet like a piece of cotton candy melting on your tongue. He didn’t even remember what he had joked about at this point, his mind turning to mush the moment he heard that sound pass your lips.

Those lips that haunted his dreams every single night, the image of them so plush and pure he wanted to worship them like one would a holy angel. They looked absolutely perfect.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling softly as he rested his chin on his hand. He probably looked like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t mind. 

“I found something really interesting in this book  by the way,” you said, Mattheo’s eyes instantly darting to where your hands were resting on the page. “It says in the recipe that we need to juice a squill bulb, which most people just cut it for. But this recipe here notes that squeezing ingredients over a funnel gets more juice out.”

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered, his gaze looking at your face as you spoke. 

“Isn’t it?” you asked with a smile. “And here it says that adding the entire Murtlap makes the potion last longer, rather than just growth.”

“That’s also really interesting.” he whispered again, gaze still stuck on your face. You looked so pretty whenever you were concentrating on things, the way your eyebrows furrowed making him think of a million different songs and rhythms. 

“Is it?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “I always found Potions an interesting topic.”

“Always is not a word. It’s more of a concept.” you said, humming as you continued reading the pages. Mattheo chuckled softly, looking at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You’re lovely,” he whispered. 

Theo was sitting in his bed reading a book, his curtains almost completely closed as he flipped between page to page. At least, he pretended to.

Recently, he had noticed Mattheo’s obsessive journaling habits. How his hands would be covered in ink by the time he was finished, or how he’d write until his new candle burnt out. Sometimes Mattheo would write even when the candle burnt out, instead opting for yet another one.

It was rather concerning to Theo, to say the least. Out of all of the things Mattheo could do, he was changing who he was. Self-improvement was one thing, but it seemed like he changed an obsession from fighting to writing.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Mattheo mumbled, looking back over at where Theo was sitting.

“I’m surprised you can,” Theo said under his breath, closing his book and standing up. “With how much you’ve been writing, I’d assume you get sucked in by a black hole sometime soon.”

“Oh hush,” he whispered, looking up from the journal. His hands were stained black and red with quill ink, the candle beside him still burning brightly. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“Your journal.” Theo smirked, walking behind Mattheo and placing his hands on his Mattheo’s shoulder. “What’s inside?”

“Why would I tell you?” Mattheo grumbled, continuing to write in the journal. Theo’s eyes squinted as they tried to read whatever was on the page, but the words were too jumbled to make any sense to him. No doubt a charm.

“You charmed the journal?” Theo asked curiously, looking down at Mattheo.

“Like you care.” he whispered under his breath, the quill scratching loudly against the paper. The room was quiet other than that, nothing but the quill scratching and the candle crackling.

“I do.” Theo said, his voice a bit more stern. He pulled up a chair next to Mattheo, resting his elbow on the table. “Mattheo, you’re pushing everyone away. Even me, and it’s not healthy. All you do is write in this journal, it’s kind of worrying.”

“I just like writing,” Mattheo whispered, moving his legs to rest his knees near his chest.

“About what?” Theo asked, his voice more soft than teasing.

“You’ll judge.” Mattheo whispered again, flicking the quill back and forth as his eyes glanced over at Theo. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Theo whispered. “I promise I won’t judge.”

Mattheo sighed before turning to the journal, pressing his wand against it as the words came into view more clearly. His handwriting was a lot more cursive than Theo first remembered, no doubt changing the more he wrote. 

“It’s a journal about her,” Mattheo whispered, flipping through some of the pages. “Love letters, poems, songs and stuff.”

“Her?” Theo asked curiously. “Who’s her?”

“Her,” Mattheo muttered to Theo, picking at his fingernails as he spoke. He looked like a blushing schoolboy who found his first love, it was rather cute to watch. “It’s, like, she’s a girl I just really like. I think about her a lot, you know? And I’m just trying to improve myself for her.”

“What’s her name?” Theo asked, resting his head against his hand as he crossed his legs.

“Y/N.” Mattheo sighed, like the word itself was a part of some holy prophecy. “She’s so beautiful, you know? Like something from heaven, just beautiful. And I just can’t get her out of my head.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Theo asked, a small smile on his face.

“We have this project together right now.” he said, chuckling softly as he spoke. He was so down bad. “She took me to the library to research more about potions. Merlin, she’s so smart Theo. She figured the reason why nobody could make the potion was because the instructions were wrong.”

“So you both started researching?” Theo asked.

“She researched, yeah,” Mattheo said, before chuckling again. His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I kind of just sat watching her the entire time.” 

“Mattheo,” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” Mattheo protested.

“I’m not judging.” Theo chuckled, looking down at the journal. “I’m just confused on how you think you’ll get your girl if you can’t even talk to her. Journaling can only go so far.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, looking down at his journal again. “But it still helps.”

Theo nodded, looking down at the journal again. “What are you writing about right now?”

“Uh,” he muttered, looking at the pages. “It’s a song. She said something at the library that made me think of a song, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”  

“What’s it sound like.” Theo asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Uhm,” he whispered, picking at his nails again as he pushed the journal towards Theo. He hummed softly as he picked it up, eyes squinting as he tried to read his handwriting.

Darling, just calm with your voice

Let your heart sing, how I always enjoy 

When you say “always” is not a word

You think love is a bit absurd.

“That’s really nice,” Theo said, looking up at Mattheo with a small smirk. “This is a lot better than I thought it’d be, to be honest.”

“What did you think I was writing about?” Mattheo asked confusedly.

“Dark magic or something.” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Like you were possessed by a ghost to figure out how to resurrect themselves.”

Mattheo chuckled at that, taking his journal back. “I think you’ll find someone like this, you know. It makes life really nice.”

“Being in love?” Theo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Mattheo whispered. “In love.”

“Well, there’s always an opportunity for that. And when it happens, it’ll happen.” Theo said, patting his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “But until then, there’s cigarettes.”

“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Mattheo snickered at that, using the lit candle to light his own cigarette.

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Mattheo had started working on your project. You had figured out how to maximize the efficiency of your potion brewing, including changing methods of brewing and preparing ingredients. After about three different trials, you had finally found the perfect way to brew the potion. 

“That’s perfect.” Mattheo smiled softly at you, chuckling softly as he scratched the back of his neck. In all honesty, it looked like a regular potion to him. “I think that’s perfect, right?”

“That is perfect.” you said, giggling softly as his reaction You found it rather cute, if you were being honest. He seemed rather nervous around you. “Thank you for doing all of this with me, the potion work and all. Most people would probably just leave it to me, you know?”

“Why would they leave?” Mattheo asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You shrugged, looking down at the potion still set in the cauldron as you spoke. “I don’t really know. I guess people consider me weird or something like that. Someone said that I was whimsical once, I don’t think it was a nice way though.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mattheo spat. He couldn’t understand the logic of that. In his eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He would give anything in the world to hang out with you more often than he got too, and people gave that up for free? The thought was absolutely ridiculous.

You chuckled quietly at that, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. I mean,” he paused, looking up at you like that was the most absurd thing in the entire world. He had a small flush on his face, no doubt questioning what he was going to say. “I mean, you’re such a nice person. And I think that hanging around you is comforting.”

“And I think that you’re rather sweet.” you chuckled, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m being serious!” Mattheo said, looking you in the eyes. You hadn’t heard him talk this much in the entire time that you had been working with him, and you especially didn’t expect it to be him defending you. “You’re just, like, you. Which is really sweet, you know? I really like you and your whimsy, or whatever they try to call you.”

You giggled again, smiling softly at him as you scooted a bit closer. “You’re rather nice yourself, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raising a pitch as he looked at the potion. “Do we need to test this?”

“I think so.” she nodded. “Do you want to do it?”

Mattheo looked at the potion, a small frown coming on her face. If anything went wrong with the podcast, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt by it. Which led to him nodding, the best option for him obviously being him taking the potion himself. 

“I’ll bottle it for you.” you said, grabbing the small ladle and pouring it inside the potion vial. “Here, one vial of Liquid Luck for you.”

Mattheo smiled softly as he took a sniff of it. “Is it meant to smell like something?”

“No, just air. I mean, clean air. Not like toxic air or anything.” you said, before ending your small speel. “It doesn’t smell like anything.”

Mattheo nodded again, taking a swig of it before coughing. “That’s definitely hot.”

“It did just come off the cauldron.” you chuckled, fingers fidgeting slightly. “Do you feel lucky?”

Mattheo looked up at you with a look you could only describe as a lovesick puppy, a small flush covering his face as he admired you. You could only assume the amount of thoughts running through his mind were plenty, some very hard to sort through. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “Very lucky.”

You chuckled softly at that, your face flushing as you watched his eyes lock onto your lips. “Do I have something on my lips or something?”

“No,” he whispered softly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he spoke. “No, I just,”

“Something on my teeth?” you asked, shining your teeth to him.

“I want to kiss you.” he whispered. 

Your mouth closed again as you heard that, eyes locking onto his after he spoke. That didn’t last long though, as his eyes focused back on your lips again. “You what?”

“I want to kiss you.” he said a bit more clearly, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me.” you whispered softly to him, scooting a bit closer to him in return. 

Mattheo blinked for a couple of seconds, the shock of your answer plastered on his face. It filled you with a small sense of confidence, the blush on his face fueling your own. “I can?”

“You can.” you smiled.

Mattheo smiled brightly at that, the burn of it brighter than the sun sucking his lips in like a blackhole would. His lips immediately met yours, burning like fireworks against his skin. It was absolute bliss to him, burning through his skin and turning him into nothing but lovesick ash.

“Your lips are absolutely perfect, my love.” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with a gaze full of adoration. “So perfect.”

“Was your luck to try and kiss me, Riddle?” you chuckled softly at him. 

“This is the luckiest moment of my life.” he whispered. 

“Theo!” Mattheo spat out, opening the dorm room door as he stormed in. His palms looked sweaty, and his face was absolutely covered in a bright blush. 

“Mattheo.” Theo said his name back, closing his book as he looked at where Mattheo had stormed in. He looked absolutely wrecked, almost drenched in sweat. “You look like you just got your ass kicked on the Quidditch field.”

“I just,” he whispered, walking closer to Theo as he paced around the room. “I just kissed her.”

“Y/N?” Theo asked, a small smile crossing her face. “You kissed her?”

“It was so perfect.” he whispered, laying down on Theo’s bed. “Like, it was like her lips had a magnetic pull on me. I couldn’t stop for the next hour. A whole hour!”

“That’s wild, mate.” he chuckled softly, patting Mattheo on the head.

“It was just perfect,” he whispered under his breath, sighing softly. “Like, I don’t know how else to describe it. Maybe like looking at a supernova for the first time.”

“You are down bad, Mattheo.” he chuckled softly at that, continuing to pat his friend on the head.

“And then we, after that right?” he said, the smile on his face only growing larger. “We snuck off to this broom closet. You know the ones. And we did, we had,” he paused, sighing in frustration as his words jumbled in his head. “You know?”

“I know.” Theo chuckled.

“I have a song idea again.” Mattheo said, sitting up again as he rushed to the journal he kept so dearly to his heart. “I will be dead to the world for the next few hours.”

“You want me to go tell Y/N that, lover boy?” Theo smirked.

“She can come in whenever.” Mattheo said, dipping his quill in black ink. “I already gave her our dormitory password.”

“You what?”

���I have a present for you.” Mattheo whispered under his breath, a small smile on his face as he walked towards you.

It was the 6 month anniversary of one of the happiest relationships you had ever been in. There was communication and there was love. Small dates near the Black Lake at midnight, with breakfast you stole from the Great Hall earlier. Times where he’d take you into town and let you dress up however you wanted, all on the cards he stole from Malfoy. Or small get-togethers like this, hangouts at the top of the Astronomy Tower. 

And the presents were always lovely. Small poems that he wrote for you, or love letters that he hand wrapped himself. A small blush or dress you had been eyeing for more than two seconds, or room decor that went with your forever indecisive aesthetics. 

“You do?” you giggled softly, gasping softly as he pulled out a small guitar. “A song?”

“I’ve written a couple for you,” he whispered. “And I wanted to sing them to you. For our anniversary.”

“I love you.” you giggled, smiling as he sat down.

He cleared his throat as he made sure the guitar was in tune, strumming a few chords before eventually developing a melody. It seemed almost hypnotic the way his hands moved, his voice humming along as he figured out the rhythm.

“Yesterday, I was a word. Left with no voice to speak it,” he hummed softly, his voice and the guitar both vibrating through the walls. You smiled brightly as you heard his voice, not realizing how pretty his voice actually sounded.

“Now I am a happy song, placed on the lips of a woman.” he sang, winking at you. He continued for a few lines, a small smirk growing on his lips as he got to the instrumental part.

“What are you going to sing next?” you asked, watching him giggle softly. “Seriously!”

“Patience,” he whispered, chuckling as he strung the melody again, his eyes darting down at the guitar. “Now she has me, under her skirt,”

“Mattheo!” you flushed, slapping his arm and breaking the rhythm of his song. “My skirt?”

The both of you burst out into a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the cold night air that breezed through the alcove you sat in. Or maybe you just felt warm in his presence, a constant feeling of love rushing through your body.

“Can I finish my song now?” he smirked.

“I suppose you could.” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to sing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

my second post oh my GOD this one took a hot minute to get through. beta-reading and proof reading is definitely not my jam, and there's definitely things that i missed in this. but i hope it still works out well, especially the whole lovesick angle i was going for. if you guys haven't already, please please please go check out tamino's music. it is actually so. good. if you listen to hozier or adrianne lenker, i think you'd really like his songs (my favorites are the first disciple and habibi)

as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 4

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7])

agatha once again protecting billy with her whole body.

"I didn't think it was real! I thought it was me, that it's my fault that I can't keep a job, that everything I touch turns to shit! That I couldn't save her!"

The poison drips through (yes I love Succession). Generational curse, generational trauma. The pain of who knows how many centuries of parents and grandparents and great-grandparents times a thousand. It's like a boulder that you're carrying around on your shoulders, and you can't see it and you can't put a name to it, how could you? How can you possibly know why your mother drank herself stupid, why your grandmother abused her children? You were born yesterday and drank all that poison without knowing what it was, you let it take it over and you walk around spreading it to the world.

And amidst all the pain, alice only ever chose to blame and hurt herself and she was always gentle to others. her biggest regret is not having been able to save her mom! you know why alice never turned into a villain like agatha? because her mom loved her. as simple and as that. lorna was so ill-equipped to save alice, she didn't know what she was up against, she was in a world of pain herself. and she went above and beyond to show her child how infinitely precious and loved she was.

oh wow, I usually say I'm crying as a figure of speech, but I am crying for real thinking about this.

lilia who has lived so long and experienced her big share of suffering, knowing all too well what alice is going through. there's so much compassion in her voice

jen stubbornly refusing to care about anything but her own pain, which is actually a very human way to respond to trauma? it's like she's at a crossroads and it's up to her to choose whether she goes back to being the force of good she used to be, or whether she goes down agatha's same path. I say it's up to her because it ultimately is, but she was so lucky finding this coven and community at such a crucial moment. agatha didn't have any of it.

no! don't apologize, you beautiful, generous soul! the sense of guilt and inferiority complex is real

agatha's face when billy is attacked

she starts running toward him even before alice

but when she gets there she freezes and lets alice go check on him

when she sees he's fine, she sighs and collapses against the door, clutching her chest.

lilia is really starting to get attached to everyone, and throughout her life love and loss have always been inherently linked. she already knows she's going to lose them.

okay jen refusing to leave the circle is still funny, I'll give her that

through all this rio has been watching and studying agatha, she always does. she knows that her diabolically smart wife loves to be in charge and come up with plans. she's being encouraging!

look at how small alice is! she's been helping and consoling billy just a moment ago, despite being miserable herself.

first of all, that's hilarious, so jot that down. second of all, you know agatha is so relieved she has to put on a show instead of doing something icky like, idk, sitting in a circle and talking about their feelings. and look at rio at the drums, she's already put all the clues together as well

oooh, she's doing the thing! she's detectiving! agatha harkness ladies and gentlemen, her hobbies are women, murder and puzzles.

and who gives her the solution? who has had millennia to study and commiserate human love and grief? she says it and she looks at agatha so pointedly.

The song that's so irrevocably linked to Nicky's memory, the song that she's been desecrating and using as a means to kill. A mother took it and poured all her love into it and made it pure again. Agatha has to live with that now, and you know that's going to take root inside her and affect her no matter what

this whole performance is patti going I might be singing backup again but watch me be a total diva about it

I LOVE YOU PATTI LUPONE

you'd think that alice should sing lead vocals here, seeing as it's her trial and her mom's song and all. WELL THINK AGAIN

the massive ego agatha has, honestly. you gotta respect that.

the feeling when you are the only normal person in a group of total hooligans. did I already say how gorgeous sasheer looks in that outfit? no I didn't. you are an apparition, sasheer.

but I want the song to have its own separate entry so hold on tight, brb

go to episode 4 part 5

[conretewings]

A Good Name 🌟

-Set some months after the trio's conversation that night at the bar, the guys get a visit from their friend..and new companion. My heart is broken and I need some fluffy healing okay I really wanted to write a thing with Vander meeting baby Vi sue me.

A light rapping at the door makes Vander look up and Silco glance over his shoulder. They weren't open, and unexpected knocks usually came with some sort of headache or trouble.

They catch each other's gaze in a silent question of if they should answer, and whom if so. Silco's pen hovers above the ledger in front of him, brow raised a measure, his glass-green eyes sharp and steady. They dart towards the sound before meeting Vander's again, his head tilting slightly. Vander nods and reflexively rolls his shoulders, stepping around the table he was cleaning and takes a couple steps forward when there's a second knock-only this time it comes in a very distinctive, two-three-two pattern and both men are instantly fully alert.

Vander makes it to the door in a few hurried strides, undoing the locks and throwing it open to have two people dart inside. Closing it again he whirls and steps toward them, Silco also approaching now.

"Felicia, Connol!" he huffs, irate and concerned all at once, "We haven't heard from you in over a week! We were starting to think-"

She whips a hand forward and presses a finger to his lips, "Shhhhh...she's dozing-oh, not anymore."

It's then a small, thin cry is heard, the sound suddenly the only one in the room, and certainly not normally heard.

Vander and Silco freeze for a moment before the larger man barely finds his voice, "Is...did you..?"

Felicia rolls her eyes with a smirk, "Sorry guys. Been a little preoccupied."

Pulling aside the loose cloak she wore, she turns to reveal a wide piece of fabric wound around herself, and securely bound in the middle, cradled against her chest, was a tiny, wiggly bundle. Connol smiles broadly, weaving an arm around her shoulders, "Mates, meet our daughter."

As if knowing she was being talked about, the infant's wriggling increases and she turns her head, topped with a fluff of pinkish-red hair and gapes at the adults with brilliant, sky-blue eyes.

There's a beat of silence, save for the newborn's whimpers and soft cries, as if the reverence and significance for this moment was an unspoken agreement. Felicia tenderly brushes her fingers across her cheek and the puff of hair, a soft, peaceful smile on her face.

It's Silco who breaks the quiet with a simple, understated, "Ah...I see." still at a loss how to properly react to the situation.

"Lookit her...so small..." Vander breathes, moving closer, a lopsided grin slowly growing, "Hello there little one...lemme be the first to welcome you here though eh, it'll be a bit before you're a customer yeah?"

Connol rolls his eyes with a snort, yet Silco's face hardens just the slightest degree, "Not that I'm questioning your judgement, however is it not incredibly risky to whisk a newborn all the way here?"

"We know the best routes, and besides, this is about the safest place she could possibly be." answers Felicia.

Connol nods, "Ain't no better spot than the one that means so much to us all. It's practically our home, and we felt there'd be no better for ya to meet her."

Silco clears his throat with an understanding nod in return, a smile playing at his lips as he turns and steps back toward the bar, "Well then. I do believe congratulations are in order. How old is she?"

"Five days now," Felicia answers as she and Connol go to sit at a nearby table, readjusting the sling so she can hold her on her shoulder, "And already giving me sass!"

Vander laughs, a bright, warm laugh that bounces off the walls before he sits with them, "I don't know what you expected, bein' the result of you two!"

"Oy man what's that supposed to mean?" says Connol with feigned indignation and a smirk.

Silco joins the group then, carrying a tray with several glasses-and one deep blue tumbler. He passes a glass to each of the men, then with a little flourish and gallant bow, sets the cup in front of Felicia, who laughs and does a slight bow in return.

"A toast then. Congratulations to the new parents, to your new addition, and many hopes for the future..." says Silco proudly, raising his glass, and the others follow suit.

"Oh! Right!" Vander snaps his fingers, "So, what's her name then?"

Felicia catches his eye, a glimmer both sly and yet softened with pride in her own, "Violet, of course."

Vander freezes, mouth half open in disbelief, feeling his heart leap, having to set his glass down before he dropped it, "...What?"

"You heard me." she grins, Connol adding, "We talked about it, considered others, but we kept coming back around and decided...Violet is a good name."

Swallowing thickly, Vander takes a moment before responding, "I...don't know what to say..."

Silco shakes his head with a smile, patting the larger man's shoulder, "I think he means he's honored."

"Of course I am, just also...wow. I didn't think..." Vander laughs, much more softly, running a hand through his hair, "Violet. Yeah."

Felicia turns so the newborn is facing them, "Say hello to your uncles Vander and Silco, Violet! They look like dorks, and they can be, but I'll tell you something...there's no one who cares about us down here as much, who'll fight harder for us, who will love you more, besides me and your pa, then these two."

The baby stares at them, and Vander is surprised to feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes, "Hello, Violet...what your mum said is true. No matter what happens, we've got ya."

Noticing, Silco breaks into a mocking grin, "Oh dear dear what's this? Is the great Hound of the Underground actually crying?"

"Shut it. It's dusty in here." grumbles Vander, yet unable to hide his own grin. All laugh, then the conversation carries on...

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(Matchmaker Charlie AU)

*Charlie woke up confused, instead of in her bed with Vaggie, she was laying on the softest grass she felt, it even put her bed to shame when it came to softness*

?: Are you alright? Are you an angel, you must be a new one since I haven’t met you before, but you look like an angel.

*Charlie sat up and was in awe of the beauty around her, also the voice she heard sounded familiar to her, she looked up and saw a man sitting on a tree branch, the only word she could use to describe this man was beautiful, he had lightly tanned skin, short hair the color of milk chocolate, and brown eyes with a hint of honey gold to them, the most shocking was that this man was very much naked, in fact he had no shame in showing off his dick that would be quite impressive though Charlie hadn’t seen many dicks to compare*

Charlie: Wait, who are you?

*the man giggled cutely*

?: Don’t you know who I am, I am Adam the first human man.

*Charlie then remembered the same voice sounding more arrogant saying “Do you know who I am, I’m fucking Adam” but this was nothing like the man she met at Heaven’s Embassy, in fact he wasn’t even like the man that was described in the book her mom wrote about the origins of Hell, Adam jumped down from the tree looking her over in a very innocent manner*

Adam: You look like an Archangel Luci.

Charlie: Luci?

Adam: Luci is the best, in fact he should be here soon. I can take you to meet him. I forgot to ask what your name is.

Charlie: My name is Charlie, it’s nice to meet you Adam.

*she held her hand out to Adam and he shook with such a friendly smile, Charlie wondered when Adam would start acting like how her mother had described her, he took her hand and they walked through what Charlie realized was Eden, there was actually something endearing about Adam, just then they stopped at a pond with the cutest little ducks she had ever seen, she knew that her father probably would have loved a place like this, Adam then got a smile as he looked up*

Adam: Luci!!!!

*Charlie looked up and gasped, it was her father, Lucifer Morningstar when he was an angel of Heaven, she looked over at Adam and realization hit her*

Charlie internally: Adam was in love with my dad.

She watched as Adam ran over to her father Luicfer and they hugged each other, Lucifer even spun him around a little bit.

Lucifer: Addie! It's so good to see you dove.

Charlie was so shocked by the affectionate nickname and how Adam flushed pink. They looked at each other like they were the most perfect beings in the universe.

Adam: Oh, you just have to meet the new angel her name is Charlie!

Lucifer looked puzzled, new angel? Surely he would have heard if his father made a new angel. He looked over to her and was shocked, this girl was very pretty but she didn't look angelic. She actually looked like a female version of himself with red and yellow eyes.

How odd.

Lucifer smiled and held out his hand: Nice to meet you Charlie.

Charlie shook his hand: Hi da-.... Lucifer. It's nice to meet you.

Adam ran over and picked up a duckling and held it up for both Lucifer and Charlie, his smile wide and innocent.

Adam: Look! They just had babies, aren't they just the sweetest?

Lucifer: Yes! Do you remember your purpose Adam? To eventually have babies of your own?

Adam nodded, his smile was shy and Charlie didn't miss the way his hand went to his belly as if he were the one that wanted to carry the baby.

Adam knew he had to have kids at some point but he wanted them with Lucifer so badly, he didn't think Lilith liked him very much and he didn't know why.

Charlie could see the shy looks they were giving each other. Did her dad.... Love Adam back?

[insomniac4000]

133 George clarke

that’s your nickname

George Clarkeey had a routine. Every morning, before diving into filming or editing his latest YouTube video, he’d walk to the coffee shop just around the corner. It wasn’t just about the coffee—though the flat whites were undeniably good—it was also about her.

She worked the morning shift most days, her apron tied neatly over her light blue blouse, her hair pinned up in a messy bun that seemed to defy gravity. She moved with the grace of someone who’d been doing this for years, yet, amusingly, her coordination failed her just as often.

It started two weeks ago. George had been sitting at his usual spot near the window, sipping his coffee, when he saw it happen. She was carrying a tray loaded with steaming mugs, chatting with a coworker, when her foot caught on the edge of the mat. The tray tilted, her eyes widened, and before anyone could intervene, the mugs clattered to the floor, coffee splashing everywhere.

George had felt bad for her, sure, but the way she laughed it off, cheeks pink with embarrassment, made him smile. She grabbed a towel, joking with the customers about her “clumsiness quota” for the day.

The nickname came to him the third time he saw her drop something—a stack of saucers this time. As the plates spun like tiny UFOs before smashing, George had leaned over to his friend WillNE and whispered, "Spills."

Will raised an eyebrow. “Spills?”

“Yeah, it suits her. She’s got...a certain flair for it.” George’s grin was unapologetic.

From that day on, in his head, she wasn’t just the cute barista. She was Spills.

George started finding excuses to visit the coffee shop more often. A mid-morning snack, an afternoon pick-me-up, even a decaf tea on his way back from the gym—he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself.

But Spills wasn’t making it easy for him. Sure, she smiled when he ordered, laughed at his jokes, and once even gave him an extra shot of caramel syrup for free. But was that barista-friendly customer service, or something more?

He couldn’t tell. And the uncertainty was driving him mad.

“Just ask her out,” Will said one day while they were filming.

George groaned, burying his face in his hands. “It’s not that simple! What if she says no? Then I can never go back there.”

“Mate, if you don’t, someone else will.”

That thought lingered in George’s mind longer than he wanted to admit.

The next morning, George walked into the coffee shop with a plan. He’d compliment her hair or her earrings, ease into a conversation, and then casually suggest grabbing a coffee—outside of her workplace, of course.

But as he approached the counter, his courage wavered.

“Morning, George,” she greeted him with a smile. She knew his name! That had to mean something, right?

“Hey, Sp—” He caught himself just in time. “Hey, morning! How’s it going?”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Pretty good. You?”

“Uh, yeah, great! Just filming later. Usual flat white, please.”

As she prepared his drink, George mentally kicked himself. That was his big plan? Small talk and his usual order?

She handed him the cup, her fingers brushing his for a split second. He thought he might combust.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, retreating to his table.

He hadn’t even sat down before it happened.

Spills struck again.

This time, it was a tower of croissants. She’d been stacking them on the display shelf when her elbow bumped the tray. George watched, frozen, as the pastries tumbled to the floor like buttery dominoes.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed, crouching to gather them up.

Without thinking, George jumped to his feet and hurried over to help.

“Here, let me,” he said, picking up a particularly squashed croissant.

She looked up at him, cheeks red but smiling. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Are you kidding? This is the highlight of my morning.”

She laughed, the sound musical and genuine. “The highlight?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s not every day you get to witness...the art of Spills in action.”

Her eyes widened. “Spills?”

Oh no. Had he actually said that out loud?

“That's your nickname I—I mean...” George stumbled over his words, panic setting in. “It’s just...you’ve got a bit of a track record, that’s all.”

To his surprise, she burst out laughing. “Spills, huh? I guess I’ve earned that one.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Mad? No. If anything, I’m impressed you noticed. Most people just ignore it or give me weird looks.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think it’s kind of...endearing.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “Endearing, huh?”

George felt his face heat up. “Yeah. I mean, you handle it well. Most people would just freak out.”

“Thanks, George. You’re sweet.”

And just like that, the moment was perfect.

“So,” he said, trying to sound casual, “if you’re not too busy spilling coffee tomorrow, maybe we could grab one together?”

Her eyes sparkled, a mix of surprise and something he hoped was excitement. “You’re asking me out?”

“Only if you say yes.”

She smiled, standing up with the tray of croissants. “Okay, Spills accepts. But only if you stop calling me that.”

“No promises,” George teased, grinning as she walked back behind the counter.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

[sanguineterrain]

Hi Sanne! Could I please request a Wally x reader where she’s super clumsy and kinda shy so when he flirts with her she gets all flustered and clumsy and Wally thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world? Thank you!

got this request AGES ago and forgot to post. hope you like! I don't know much about wally's personality admittedly except for the few comics I've read with him 🫣

gn!reader. wally makes your body and mouth clumsy. kissing and confessions. drinking.

****

"So what exactly is this again?" Roy asks, peering at his glass.

"It's a mocktail," you say.

"No, I get that, but why is it blue? And sparkly."

"It's supposed to be the ocean," Dick says. "Duh."

"Oh, sure. As usual, I'm the idiot. Never had the creative mind to find worlds in drinks. 'S like I'm drinking a snow globe."

"I can get you something else," you say, laughing.

"No, I like the snowglobe." Roy curls his hands around the glass protectively. "My snowglobe."

The team's decided to try their hand at a trivia night at a local bar. It's gone better than you expected, with only one near-blowup and no glasses thrown. All in all, a good night.

"I would like another daiquiri, please," Donna says, holding up her glass. "These are delicious. What flavor did you say this one was?"

"Passion fruit."

She nods. "Indeed. I'm passionate about this fruit."

"Don't get my team too hungover," Dick says, eyes shining and cheeks pink from two drinks.

"I'll do my best," you say.

If only Wally were here, you don't say. He'd be a big help in getting everyone back to the Tower. You have no idea how you're going to manage the Wonder Twins and Garth wobbling all over the sidewalk. Roy, though perfectly sober, will provide zero help, too busy giggling at Dick's lack of motor skills.

You take Donna's glass because she deserves another passion fruit daiquiri if she wants it, darn it. You order that and another two baskets of fries. Dick's got the tab. Everyone's taking advantage.

"Need a hand?"

You turn with the fries cradled in one arm and the daiquiri in your other hand. You don't anticipate Wally to be standing as close as he is.

The baskets go flying.

"Whoa!" he says, darting out to catch the food. He does so perfectly, of course.

"Oh!" Your face goes hot as Wally grins at you.

"Careful," he says. "All those heroes and not a single one came to help you carry the food? They should be ashamed of themselves."

"They're, um, having a good time. It's okay, really." Did you manifest him being here? "I was just thinking about you."

Wally's grin widens. "Oh, yeah? Anything in particular?"

Now, why did you say that? Your tongue just gets so clumsy around him.

"I was—I mean, it wasn't—I was thinking about how helpful it would be if you were here. I was hoping you'd come."

"Well, hope no more! You've got an official superhero on your side."

Wally wriggles the glass out of your hand and gestures for you to go ahead. Now you're carrying nothing. You go, knowing that protesting does no good with Wally.

"Seems like wherever you go, Wally isn't far behind," Roy says, waggling his eyebrows. "You two psychically linked or something?"

Dick and Donna exchange smiles. You look at Wally, mildly mortified by the teasing.

"We're soulmates, actually," Wally says, and that makes your whole body hot. "Wouldn't expect you to understand, Arrow Boy."

"Dude, I'm hurt." Roy clutches his chest. "I thought we were soulmates."

"You wish. Where's Garth?"

"Bathroom," Dick says.

Donna makes grabby hands for the drink. She takes a long sip and gives you a thumbs up. You return it.

"We should play pool!" Dick says.

"No way, you cheat," Roy says.

"I do not! Donna, do I cheat?"

"Physically, Dick doesn't cheat, but he has a long history of psychologically manipulating opponents," Donna says.

Roy snaps his fingers. "Bingo."

"I don't cheat, I'm just that good." Dick smirks. "Anyway, I'm tipsy, so my aim will be off."

Roy rolls his eyes. "Yeah, right. No bets. I can't afford to lose anymore money to you."

"Fine. You two joining us?" Dick asks, looking at you and Wally.

"I don't know how to play pool," you say, a little embarrassed. Working on a team of superheroes, the least you could do is know how to play pool. Pool is obviously a cool people game. Batman probably taught Dick pool when he was, like, eight.

"That's fine, we can teach ya," Roy says.

"No, we suck at teaching," Dick says. "Remember, Roy? Remember how we suck at teaching people? Wally's way better at teaching."

Roy glances at Dick, then at Wally. He nods slowly. "Ah... yeah. Our, uh, shortcomings as teachers—yeah, we suck. Wally, you're up!"

Wally squints at them. "What're you talking about? You guys are better at pool than me."

"Not true! You can calculate physics in your head and shit. Go on. Shoo, fly," Roy says, waving him away.

Wally looks at you, questioning. You shrug, trying to play off how nervous you are at the prospect of being alone with him.

You follow him to one of the pool tables. He takes down a cue stick and gives it to you.

"You really don't have to teach me," you say, suddenly self-conscious. "It's not a big deal."

"I don't mind," he says, smiling. "Plus, what if you're a pool prodigy and we never find out because I never taught you and unlocked your ability? Tragic."

You laugh. He beams. You back up against the table and the wooden edge hits your back. You wince.

"You okay?" he asks, inspecting you.

"Fine." You sigh. "Okay, I'm ready to unlock my special abilities."

"Right on. So you're gonna hold the cue like this."

He puts it in your hands and adjusts your grip.

"Okay, and you're gonna stand like—uh, is it cool if I touch you?"

"Uh-huh," you say, hoping your voice isn't high and breathy.

Wally gently bends you forward and moves your hips so your legs are planted. He's behind you, mouth near your ear.

"Alright," he says, and your whole body goes aflame. He's so close. "So pull back..."

You pull back the cue and promptly elbow Wally in the stomach. He grunts and you drop the stick, mortified.

"Oh my God," you say, spinning around. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. God—"

You dart away, the humiliation too overwhelming. You're making a beeline for the bathroom when Wally appears in front of you. Damn superspeed.

"Hey, hey," he says, hands on your shoulders. "I'm okay. Seriously, don't even worry about it!"

"No." You shake your head. "I give up. I'm too uncoordinated for this stuff. There's a reason I'm not out on the field."

"Aw, c'mon, none of that," Wally says, rubbing your arms. "You're a valued member of the team even if you don't go onto the field. What you do is important. You're like our Oracle."

"I've been tripping over my own feet all night," you say, looking down.

No guesses as to why you've been so clumsy. Starts with a W, ends with a Y.

"Well, I'll always be there to catch you," Wally says warmly. "I have great reflexes. It's kinda my thing."

You busy yourself with picking at a loose thread on your shirt, so Wally won't see your response to that.

"I'm still sorry for elbowing you." You cover your face at the memory. "Ugh."

He laughs. "Nah, it's okay, honestly. I'm a tough guy. Put on my own suit and everything."

And now, your mind is inundated with images of Wally in his suit.

He carefully tugs your hands from your face, gaze soft. You're caught off-guard as Wally rubs your knuckles with his thumbs.

"Listen, I..." He glances around as if searching for words. You've never seen Wally at a loss for words. He's usually talking too fast for anyone to keep up. "I don't know if maybe I'm misreading this. I don't think I am. But if I am, feel free to elbow me again."

Your eyes widen. "I would never—"

And quick as anything, Wally leans in and pecks your lips. It's warm, like a shock of electricity. You barely have time to process it.

"Oh," is all you can say.

Wally smiles nervously. "Is that a good oh or a 'I'd like to punch you in the face' oh?"

"I like you," you blurt.

He relaxes into a grin. "Know what? I kind of suspected. Especially after those idiots practically forced us into playing pool. I'm dumb but I'm not that dumb."

"You're not dumb, Wally."

"When it comes to this stuff, I really am. But I'm happy you like me because I really like you. Like, a lot."

"Yeah? Elbows and all?"

Wally laughs, draws you in again for a kiss. "You can elbow me any time, babe."

[moutainrusing]

love letters

786 words, @pandalilymicrofics

“Barty, I swear on my dad’s dead corpse, if you carry on simping over my brother, I will stab this pencil through your eye,” Pandora threatened, emphatically raising the fist clenched around her pencil.

“But Evan—”

“Do not. Say his name. Anymore,” Pandora shook the pencil, and Barty sighed wistfully. Fed up with this, Pandora suggested, “Why don’t you write him a love letter?”

“A love letter?” Barty pulled a face. “Ew?”

“How is a love letter more disgusting to you than the way you wax poetic about Evan out loud, to me?” Pandora bared her teeth in frustration. “It’s expressing the exact same thing that you already do in paper format and sending it to the actual recipient, instead of his sibling. Because in case you’ve forgotten, I’m related to Evan, and I don’t want to hear what you think about his mouth!”

Barty rolled his eyes, as if what Pandora was saying made no sense at all. “If I write this… love letter… you must give me something in return. After all, friendship is a business transaction.”

Pandora rolled her eyes. Sometimes, Barty made no sense at all.

Tapping his chin thoughtfully, Barty finally decided, “I’ll write him love letters instead of gushing to you all the time if you buy me lunch everyday.”

“Deal,” Pandora shook his hand. She also poked her pencil into his palm while doing so. The jury would be forever out on whether or not that was purposeful.

- - -

Dear the love of my life (Pandora: “Why are you calling him the love of your life?” Barty: “‘Cause this is a love letter? You basically told me to do that?”)

I am in love with you. (Pandora: “That’s unnecessary. It was stated in the first line.” Barty: “Was it though? Do you think your brother’s smart enough to understand if I don’t clarify?” Pandora: “…You make a good point.”)

Love from the love of your life (Pandora: “You’ve written ‘love’ way too many times.” Barty: “It’s a love letter!”)

- - -

“Now slip it through his locker,” Pandora advised.

“Where’s his locker?”

She shrugged, “Dunno.”

“You don’t know where your brother’s locker is?” Barty asked incredulously.

Haughtily, Pandora sniffed, “Stop acting like it’s an expectation of sibling relationships to know everything about each other.”

“It kinda is—”

“I think that’s his locker,” Pandora interrupted, pointing to a locker graffitied with ‘EVANS’ in bright red capital letters. Again, she sniffed disdainfully, “He’s the type to graffiti his locker. And miss out the apostrophe in Evan’s. It’s probably Evan’s locker,” she nodded. “It’s been branded Evan’s at least. Without the apostrophe. ‘Cause he’s a degenerate vandal.”

Bary side-eyed her, “I’ll never understand sibling rivalry…” He slid the folded paper through the frame, before the two of them shoved each other past the crowd of students, positioning themselves behind a vending machine to watch Evan’s supposed locker for any action.

But instead of Evan, a person who Pandora recognised very well, with the green eyes she’d dream about and the red hair she’d see while gazing at the person’s back during class, walked up to the locker. Oh. Evans. Lily Evans.

Suddenly, vandalism seemed very cool. And the graffiti was actually grammatically correct, so Pandora could let it slide. Plus, red was an ingenious colour choice, Lily’s taste was exquisite, Pandora was mesmerised by the sheer talent of it, the way the letters were perfectly positioned to spell out the surname of the love of her life. When Lily stood in front of her locker, rivulets of her red hair cascaded beside the graffiti, creating a remarkable gradient, perfectly blending orange into red like the sunset over a beach in the hot, humid summer—

Barty nudged her, probably to say that the mission had been a failure, except Pandora wasn’t really concentrating, so she stumbled out from behind the vending machine, winding up in the middle of the corridor and hovering there aimlessly.

Having read the letter, Lily looked around curiously, and Pandora was just there, staring at her. Eventually, Lily’s eyes landed on Pandora like darts pinning a dartboard, rendering her frozen in place, just looking at each other for an extended period of time, seconds which had slowed to hours, too long, this was dumb, Pandora should move, what was she doing? Then Lily smiled at her, hands fiddling with the corner of the letter.

She made her way towards Pandora, and they were both standing in the middle of the corridor, and Pandora’s heart was a drum beating inside her throat, reverberating through her body, echoing within her bones, loud, aggressive, but it calmed to the sound of waves in a conch shell when Lily said quietly, “Hi, love of my life.”

[xxventiswindblumexx]

Yandere Venti being jealous of Zhongli because Darling is in love with him and him only see Venti as "cute" and "adorable" see's Venti as a little brother not at all she's attracted Darling is simply memorized by Zhongli ((who could blame her))

Who could?? I couldn't 😌

Shout out to my bestie for keeping me motivated!

⚠WARNING⚠:Yandere tendacies, non-con, unprotected sex

The warm breeze of Mondstadt’s early spring filled the air, carrying the delicate aroma of blooming dandelions. You stood at the edge of Windrise, the towering oak tree casting a playful shadow over your figure. Venti sat perched on one of its sprawling roots, his lyre resting lazily in his lap. The soft hum of a tune died on his lips as you spoke, your voice tinged with excitement.

“Zhongli is incredible, don’t you think? He has this timeless wisdom... and the way he speaks—it’s like poetry in motion.” You smiled, your eyes distant as though picturing the Liyue Archon right there before you.

Venti’s fingers froze mid-strum. His usually carefree expression faltered for just a moment, but you didn’t notice.

“Ah, yes,” he said, forcing a laugh that came out a little too light. “Old man Zhongli... He certainly has a way with words. Probably from all those centuries of rehearsing.”

You chuckled, taking his comment as harmless jest. “Dont be so mean,” you replied, playfully nudging him. “Besides, I find his company really comforting—like he understands things on a deeper level.”

Something in Venti’s gaze shifted, the glimmer of mischief fading into something darker. He tilted his head, the playful breeze that always seemed to follow him growing still. “And what about my company?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You blinked, turning to look at him properly. “Yours?”

“Yes,” he said, his teal eyes locking onto yours. There was something unnervingly intense about his stare, like he was trying to read every thought in your mind. “Do you find my company comforting?”

“Of course I do,” you replied, brushing it off with a smile. “But it’s different. You’re like a little brother to me, Venti. I know I can always count on you to make me laugh when I’m feeling down.”

The words landed like shards of glass. Venti’s smile remained, but his grip on the lyre tightened until his knuckles turned white. A little brother.

The breeze stirred again, colder this time, wrapping around you like a warning. Venti’s voice was light as he said, “I see. It’s good to know how you see me, Y/N.”

There was something unnerving in the way he said your name, the casual affection you were so used to tinged with something sharper. But before you could reply, he sprang to his feet, his cheerful façade slipping back into place.

“Well then! Shall we return to Mondstadt?” He beamed, slinging the lyre over his back. “The taverns won’t empty themselves!”

You hesitated but nodded, brushing off the odd tension as nothing more than your imagination. Yet, as you walked ahead, Venti lingered behind, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of longing and possessiveness.

‘..She likes Zhongli..’ the thought repeated in his mind like a haunting melody. His carefree smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a shadowed scowl. But that’s okay... I’ll show her just how much better I can be.

As you and him returned to the town of Mondstadt he wanted to show you something ‘special’ making you laugh “oh? Sure what do you got in mind?” He would only giggle as he lead you to and up the statue of his, making you nervous since it is high up.

It was when you wasn't looking he approched, just as quick and quiet as the wind

“You love me right Y/N?” He asked sweetly before pushing you on your back against the hands of the statue, making your race race as he pine you down.

"Baby, I’d play my lyre until my fingers bled if it made you smile. Now, tell me—would you bleed for me?" He spoke in such a sweet tone as if this was a romantic evening yet it was far from it. He didn't wait for you to answer

“of course you would, my windblume, precious Y/N..no more speak of that.. Old lizard” still stinging at his heart

"Why let his name linger on your lips, my windblume? Am I not the only melody you need to sing?" His free hand downs while the other held your wrists as you struggled

“Venti- what-” “shhh don't speak, I'm the archon here~” with that you felt your lips become dry and couldn't speak as if he commanded your voice to be taken.

His soft but cold hand pulls and rips at your clothing, discarding them on an unsuspecting mondstadter walking late night.

His thumb rolls over her nipples wanting them to perk up, a sick but sly smile plays on his lips “so soft.. And so sweet too, as I expect from my windblume~” his lips connect with your breast, licking and swirling his tongue around it before biting it making you squirm.

Slowly his hand made its way down to your pussy, feeling and rubbing the slit, wanting to create more slick, after all it'll be harsh to go in dry.

“Go on my windblume, show me how much you love me~” pulling his already hardened and twitching cock out he rubbed it against her growing slick, making the head occasionally pop in before slipping back out with a slight whimper, he couldn't help himself he's been dreaming of this. As he presses the tip against your wet hole you squirm and try to speak but nothing comes out as he giggles

“Too late~” before pushing into you, pushing all the way to his hips, savoring the feeling with a beautiful moan he starts to rock his hips. As his hips start to buck faster you could see his elemental marks glow as he couldn't help but drool.

"Please, my windblume, say it—say you love me. I need to hear it, need to feel it. Tell me I’m the only one in your heart, or I might just break without you." He pants and moans out as he held your wrists with a tight grip, for getting his spell he out on, it didn't matter, he couldn't hold back his ‘love's for you, his cock twitching delightfully before gushing cum into your womb, his hips stayed against yours as he held you in a loving embrace, whispering bittersweet promises to you

“Even if the winds carry you far, I’ll follow, no matter where you go. Even if it hurts us both, I’ll never let you go."

[rayaswrittings]

One night, Every feeling

JJ Maybank x Fem!Cameron!Reader

Synopsis: On your birthday, surrounded by the Pogues’ love and chaos, the night takes an unexpected turn for you and JJ. After months of denying your feelings, an evening of dancing, teasing, and vulnerability becomes the tipping point. Caught in the haze of emotion and reckless abandon, you act on what you’ve always felt but were too afraid to admit. A night meant for celebration becomes the one where everything changes—one night filled with every unspoken feeling finally laid bare.

Warning(s): 18+ only! Minors DNI, Mature themes, Language, the whole nine. Also very long! Apologies for mistakes :/

The warm glow of string lights wrapped around Poguelandia, casting golden hues over the small haven as laughter and music echoed from inside. Tonight wasn’t about running from trouble or chasing treasure—it was your birthday, and for once, everything else could wait.

Pope stood in the middle of the Kildare island co, tying the finishing touches on a banner that read Happy Birthday, Trouble. The letters were uneven and slightly crooked, but he stepped back with a satisfied nod. “Perfect.”

“Perfectly lopsided,” Cleo teased from where she was setting up the speaker.

“Hey, it’s got character,” Pope defended, shooting her a mock glare.

“Yeah, yeah, good effort,” Kie chimed in, carrying a tray of mismatched cups to the table. “At least you’re trying.”

Meanwhile, Sarah was kneeling on a chair, carefully balancing as she added an oversized sparkler candle to the homemade cake. “This is gonna look amazing,” she declared.

“Or set the place on fire,” John B muttered, earning himself a swat on the arm.

“Relax,” Sarah said, grinning. “We’ve survived worse.”

JJ, leaning lazily against the doorway with a beer in hand, watched the commotion with a smirk. “You guys are really pulling out all the stops, huh?”

“You say that like you didn’t spend an hour arguing with Pope about the playlist,” Kie shot back, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, music’s important,” JJ said, feigning offense. He held up his beer in a mock toast. “You’re welcome for the vibe, by the way.”

“Sure, JJ. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Cleo said with a laugh, cranking up the music.

As the first notes of a familiar song filled the air, you stepped into the room, taking it all in—the decorations, the cake Cleo and Kie had made you, the way everyone was buzzing with energy.

“There she is!” Sarah cheered, hopping off the chair and rushing over to grab your arm. “Birthday girl, looking beautiful as ever!”

You laughed, letting her pull you further inside. “You guys didn’t have to do all this.”

“Of course we did,” Kie said, grinning. “It’s your day.”

“Yeah,” JJ added, his smirk widening. “And you only turn, what, thirty?”

“Ha-ha,” you deadpanned, shooting him a glare.

“Alright, alright, everyone shut up!” Sarah’s voice rose above the chatter, her hands cupped around her mouth. “It’s toast time!”

You groaned, sinking onto the couch. “Oh, God, no speeches.”

“Too late!” Sarah said, laughing as she grabbed a cup and raised it high.

“To my amazing, stubborn, sometimes infuriating sister, who somehow manages to keep us all in one piece while also causing at least half of the chaos we deal with,” Sarah began, her voice full of warmth and humor.

Everyone laughed, JJ the loudest. “She’s not wrong!”

Sarah rolled her eyes but smiled. “Shut up, JJ. Anyway, we love you, and we’re so glad you’re stuck with us. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” the group echoed, lifting their drinks before clinking cups and taking long sips.

JJ, still leaning against the doorway, tilted his cup toward you with a smirk. “To the only person who can give me a run for my money when it comes to trouble. I’m proud.”

“High praise coming from you, Maybank,” you teased, raising your drink.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he replied, his tone playful but his gaze lingering just a second longer than necessary.

The music shifted to a faster beat, and Sarah grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet. “Nope, you’re not sitting this one out. Dance!”

Cleo was already swaying her hips to the rhythm, motioning for Kie to join her. “Come on, girl, birthday rule: you have to dance to at least three songs. Minimum.”

You laughed, letting them drag you to the middle of the room. As the music blared from the speaker, you lost yourself in the beat, spinning and laughing with your friends. Sarah twirled you around dramatically, while Cleo hyped you up with exaggerated cheers.

JJ watched from the edge of the room, a soft smile tugging at his lips as you danced. Pope nudged him. “You’re staring, man.”

“Shut up,” JJ muttered, taking another swig of his beer.

The music thumped through Poguelandia, and Cleo spun you around with a mischievous laugh. “Birthday girl’s got moves!”

Kie cheered, clapping along to the beat. “Yeahhh, I see you!”

Sarah leaned into John B on the couch, smirking as she watched the three of you take over the space near the speaker. “This is the most energy I’ve seen her have all day,” she joked, sipping from her cup.

“Alcohol does wonders,” John B teased back, earning a playful nudge from Sarah.

Meanwhile, JJ still leaned against the table, beer in hand, watching the scene unfold. His eyes lingered on you a beat too long, the way your hips swayed to the music and your head tipped back in laughter.

“Bro, you’re still staring?,” Pope said from beside him, smirking.

JJ didn’t even flinch. “Yeah? And?”

Pope raised his brows. “And maybe you should do something about it instead of looking like your about to combust”

JJ rolled his eyes and drained the rest of his beer. “Combust, my ass. I’m just appreciating the show.”

“Uh-huh,” Pope said, unconvinced. “What’s your excuse gonna be when I go out there and steal her for a dance?” He jokes, obviously knowing he would only ever choose Cleo.

JJ snorted. “Not happening, dude.”

Pope smirked. “Then prove it.”

JJ set his empty bottle on the table with a dramatic thud. “Fine. Watch and learn, Pope.”

Without hesitation, JJ sauntered toward the makeshift dance floor, his cocky grin in full effect. You caught sight of him as he approached, and the mischievous glint in his eyes made your heart skip.

“Finally decided to join the fun?” you teased as he stepped in front of you.

“Had to make sure you weren’t stealing the spotlight without me,” JJ shot back, his grin widening.

“Oh, I’m carrying this whole thing,” you joked, twirling in place. “Think you can keep up?”

“Please.” JJ grabbed your hand and spun you again, pulling you closer in one smooth motion. “I am the fun.”

The group cheered from the sidelines, John B letting out a loud whistle. “Yeah, J!”

Kie laughed, clapping. “Told you he’d cave eventually!”

Cleo leaned toward Pope, smirking. “That boy’s whipped.”

JJ ignored them all, his attention completely on you. The two of you fell into a rhythm effortlessly, his movements loose and confident as he guided you through the music.

“You’re not half bad,” you said, breathless from laughing and dancing.

JJ arched a brow. “Not half bad? Babe, I’m stealing the show.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Okay, keep telling yourself that.”

JJ twirled you again, catching you by the waist as you stumbled slightly. His grip lingered, and for a second, the teasing grin on his face softened.

“You’re killing it, though,” he said, his voice lower now, just loud enough for you to hear over the music.

The sudden sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, your breath hitching as his hands steadied you. But before the moment could stretch too long, he stepped back, smirking again. “But don’t let it go to your head.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart raced as you grabbed his hands and pulled him back toward you. “I don’t think you’re allowed to leave the dance floor yet.”

JJ laughed, spinning you one last time as the song ended. “Alright, birthday girl. What’s next? Shots or another dance?”

Before you could answer, Cleo stepped in, dragging you away playfully. “She’s mine now, Maybank. Go take five.”

JJ threw up his hands in mock defeat. “Fine, but don’t wear her out before the next song!”

As he retreated to grab another drink, he glanced back at you over his shoulder, his smirk lingering. Pope shook his head as JJ rejoined him. “You’re so obvious, man.”

JJ grinned, unbothered. “And you’re jealous you don’t have moves like me.”

Pope laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

But JJ wasn’t paying attention. His eyes drifted back to you, still dancing in the middle of the room, and for the first time all night, he let himself wonder if you had any idea what you were doing to him.

"You're gonna wear her out," Sarah teased from the couch, leaning into John B's shoulder.

"She's got this," Cleo said confidently, spinning you around.

JJ leaned back in his chair, watching as you danced with the girls. He tried to play it cool, his arms crossed over his chest, but the way his gaze lingered on you didn't go unnoticed.

"Sooo… are you just gonna sit there all night and stare?" Pope asked, nudging him.

JJ shrugged, not taking his eyes off the scene in front of him. "Someone's gotta make sure nobody gets too wild."

"Uh-huh," Pope said, clearly not buying it.

The song shifted again, this time to a bass-heavy beat that had Kie and Cleo moving with even more energy. You caught J's eye for a moment, your lips curving into a small smile, and his breath hitched before he quickly looked away, pretending to focus on his drink.

“I can’t watch this shit anymore, bro” Pope muttered under his breath, laughing to himself.

The game of Kings was in full swing after awhile, the table cluttered with empty bottles, cans, and half-finished cups that had somehow become part of the challenge. The air was thick with laughter, loud music, and the intoxicating scent of booze, and the more the night wore on, the more everyone seemed to loosen up.

JJ was sprawled across the floor, his legs tangled in a chair, and his voice already slurring as he cheered for whatever ridiculous thing someone had just done. “Yo, Pope! Keep that up and I’m gonna have to start calling you lazy!’”

Pope, already red-faced from a few too many rounds, laughed back, holding his drink up like a trophy. “Don’t start, Maybank! I’ll show you lazy!”

Meanwhile, Cleo was trying to maintain some semblance of composure, but it was clear the alcohol was doing its work. She’d attempted to take a shot when it was her turn, but it ended up splashing more on her than in her mouth. “Fuck, man! That’s a waste of good Vodka!” she laughed, wiping her chin.

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, your laughter spilling freely with each passing round. JJ’s usual poker face had been replaced by a slightly tipsy, carefree version of himself, and he was absolutely loving it. You could feel the energy between you both shift as the alcohol mixed with the playful tension that had been simmering for days.

“Alright, alright,” Kie said, looking at the cards in her hand with a drunken frown. “I got a two. JJ, you know what that means, right?”

JJ raised his eyebrows, leaning forward with a wicked grin. “Oh, I know exactly what it means. You’re gonna do somethin’ crazy, aren’t you?”

You chuckled as Kie downed her drink in one go. “Your turn now!” she exclaimed, handing the bottle off to JJ with a sly grin.

As the night dragged on, the drinking games only seemed to get more ridiculous. There were shots, dares, and more rounds of Kings than anyone could count. But somehow, in the chaos, you and JJ became the focal point of the night. The two of you kept locking eyes across the room, the teasing glances and flirty remarks becoming a more regular occurrence.

JJ knocked back another drink, his eyes narrowing playfully as he leaned into you. “I think you’re tryin’ to make me jealous with how good you look tonight. Keep it up and you might get yourself in trouble,” he muttered, leaning so close his breath brushed your ear.

You felt the heat of his words, too drunk to care that the whole group could probably hear him. You looked at him with a drunken, teasing smile. “Oh yeah? You think I’m trying to make you jealous? Maybe I just wanna see you do something about it,” you shot back, not missing a beat.

JJ’s eyes widened, but then he laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, now, you’re not gonna get me to fall for that one. I know better.” He took another swig of his drink, leaning back with his arms crossed as if trying to play it cool—but the smile on his face betrayed him.

You scooted a little closer, the alcohol making you bold in ways you never usually were. “You sure? ‘Cause I don’t know if I’m buying it,” you purred, your voice low enough that only he could hear. The entire group was wrapped up in their own chaos, too drunk to notice anything between you and JJ.

Cleo, Kie and Pope were arguing over who could take the next shot the fastest, and John B and Sarah were wrapped up in their own world, holding hands while they giggled over something. The night had turned into one big blur, everyone losing themselves in the party.

But JJ, with his wild eyes, was only focused on you. “You better watch out, you’re gonna have me all over you, and I won’t let you live it down,” he teased, his voice low and confident—yet there was a slight slur to it.

You could feel the air between you both thicken as your proximity grew, and without thinking, you leaned in close enough to feel the warmth of his skin. “I can’t wait,” you whispered, your breath mingling with his.

JJ’s heart raced, and for a moment, he was frozen—his lips slightly parted, his breath shallow. He was too drunk to keep up the bravado. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Kook princess” he muttered with a half-laugh, before taking a long drink from his cup to steady himself.

A round of cheers erupted from the group as they realized it was JJ’s turn again. The game had gone on to become truth or dare, but mostly it was just dares flying around like crazy. Some kissed, some took shots they definitely had to pray on before taking, But he barely heard any of it. His focus was still locked on you.

“Okay, we’ve got a dare for you, JJ,” Pope suddenly interrupted, clearly not noticing the tension brewing between the two of you.

JJ snapped his head toward Pope, visibly trying to pull himself back together. “What’s the dare?”

Pope grinned mischievously. “Alright, I dare you to kiss her. Just a quick one, you know, to keep the night going.”

The entire group erupted in hoots of laughter and cheers, but you and JJ were suddenly hyper-aware of the quiet that had fallen around you two. The dare hung in the air like an undeniable challenge, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and JJ was staring at you, not backing away but not advancing either. The alcohol had loosened your usual restraint, and now it felt like the entire room was holding its breath.

“You sure about that, Pope?” JJ finally said, his voice low, his usual cocky grin replaced with something a little more vulnerable. He was trying to keep it casual, but his voice wavered slightly.

Pope’s grin only widened. “Come on, man. If you don’t do it, kie will.”

Kie and you laughed—The challenge was clear, and suddenly, everything felt too real. The room, the music, the group—everything seemed to disappear as JJ’s face was inches from yours.

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but the flush creeping up your neck and the way your stomach twisted gave you away. JJ turned his gaze back to you, his usual confidence faltering for a split second.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck as he stepped closer to you. His grin returned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Rules are rules, I guess.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as he stopped just in front of you, the world fading out once more. His hands hovered awkwardly at his sides for a moment before one settled lightly on your arm, grounding you.

“You okay with this?” he asked softly, his tone so uncharacteristically gentle that it made your chest tighten.

You nodded, trying to act like your heart wasn’t about to leap out of your chest. “It’s just a dare, right?”

JJ’s lips twitched into a lopsided smirk, though there was a nervous edge to it. "Just a dare," he echoed, though the way his voice dipped made it sound like he was convincing himself.

As he leaned in, the room seemed to hold its collective breath. You could feel the heat of his body as he got closer, his other hand reaching up to gently cup the side of your face. The touch was warm, grounding, but it only made your heart pound harder.

When his lips finally met yours, the teasing atmosphere in the room evaporated entirely. It was meant to be quick, simple, but the moment JJ kissed you, the world narrowed to just the two of you. His lips were soft but firm, his hand tightening slightly on your arm as he lingered, longer than necessary for a dare.

A muffled cheer erupted from somewhere in the background, but neither of you pulled away. The kiss deepened, slow and magnetic, like neither of you could stop. JJ’s free hand brushed against your waist, almost instinctively, and the heat of it made your stomach twist in ways you couldn’t explain.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. The room burst into shouts and laughter, but you and JJ stayed frozen for a beat too long, staring at each other. His lips were slightly parted, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes searched yours, as though trying to decipher what just happened.

Your chest tightened, your lips still tingling as you tried to collect yourself. JJ took a shaky breath and stepped back, his hand dropping from your arm and face. He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze for a moment before glancing back at you.

“Happy now, Pope?” JJ’s voice cracked slightly, and he covered it by grabbing his beer and chugging half of it.

“Oh, we’re thrilled,” Pope replied smugly, raising his drink.

“You two sure took your time with that one,” Kie teased, raising an eyebrow at you both.

“Yeah, definitely longer than the ‘quick one’ we had in mind,” Cleo added with a knowing smirk.

Your face burned, and you quickly grabbed your drink, hoping no one could see how shaken you felt. Across the table, JJ was no better, his ears red as he avoided looking directly at anyone. But every so often, your eyes met, and the tension between you sparked all over again.

“You gonna survive over there, JJ?” John B teased, tossing a bottle cap in his direction.

JJ rolled his eyes, though his smirk had returned, even if it was faint. “I—“

“Okay! Next dare,” Kie announced, clearly trying to keep the game going and cutting JJ off—to which he was very thankful for.

The game carried on, the laughter and teasing filling the space again. But for the rest of the night, you couldn’t stop glancing at JJ—and every time you did, you caught him looking back, his expression unreadable but heavy with something unspoken.

The night was far from over.

——-

The group had shifted to the couch area, most of them completely drunk and sprawled out, as the music continued to pulse in the background. The playful tension from the dare hung between you and JJ like an electric current, the air thick with unspoken words.

You and JJ hadn’t spoken much since the kiss, both of you trying to act as if it hadn’t just happened. But the way your eyes met every now and then, and the way your body seemed to gravitate towards him without thought, was enough to make everyone else notice.

John B, already tipsy and leaning into Sarah, was the first to break the silence. “Okay, okay, we need to start another round of something. Before I close my eyes and never open them” He looked between everyone, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the two of you. “But someone better keep an eye on JJ and the birthday girl. Looks like they’re gonna start their own game soon.” He winked, half-joking, but it didn’t land as lightly as he probably intended.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the blush creeping up your neck. “Shut up, John B,” you mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, pretending to find something interesting about your drink.

JJ, sitting across from you, caught the blush and grinned. “What, you embarrassed now?” His voice was light, teasing, but the heat in his gaze betrayed his casual tone. He knew exactly what was going on.

“No,” you shot back quickly, rolling your eyes dramatically. “Not embarrassed. Just… I don’t know, maybe your just a bad kisser.” You swirled the drink in your hand, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Yeah, maybe… but you know,” JJ started, leaning in closer, his voice low, “Your body says otherwise” He smirked, and there was something in his voice that was far too confident, even for him. “If you want another try, all you have to do is ask”

The words hit like a shot of tequila, and you felt the heat rising in your chest once again. For a moment, you just stared at him, your pulse quickening. “What makes you think I want that?” You were drunk enough to be bold, but the teasing in your tone didn’t match the rapid beat of your heart.

JJ’s smirk softened, his eyes flickering to your lips for the briefest moment before looking away. He leaned back in his seat, glancing at the group, and then back at you, his voice suddenly quieter. “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t mind,” he said, shrugging, like he was trying to act nonchalant. But there was something in the way he said it, the vulnerability in his voice, that made your breath hitch.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the way he looked at you, but you were suddenly drawn to him in a way you hadn’t expected. The playful flirting had turned into something more, something deeper.

Before you could respond, Cleo stood up, raising her cup dramatically. “Okay, okay! Time for some more chaos! Who’s up for another round of… whatever we’re doing?”

The interruption snapped both of you back into the present, but the heat between you didn’t fade. The night was still young, and now, everyone was shouting for another round of drinks.

“Fine,” you muttered under your breath, standing up and turning to grab another drink. “But I’m keeping my distance from Maybank for the next round.”

JJ raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I bet you are,” he teased, but his smile faded as he noticed the slight shift in your attitude. The flirting had stopped, and there was something else there now, something neither of you were ready to deal with.

But before either of you could speak again, Pope and Cleo dragged everyone back into the living room, launching into another round of Kings, laughing and joking as they set everything up.

As the night wore on, the group’s energy shifted. People began winding down, some already half-asleep on the couches, others still caught up in the haze of drunken laughter. You and JJ remained in the same space but kept your distance, the unspoken tension between you both thickening with every passing second.

Eventually, the music died down, and the room grew quieter. John B and Sarah were wrapped up in each other, and Cleo had snuck off to sit by herself, letting the alcohol take its toll. Pope was sitting next to you, chatting about something, but your mind kept wandering back to JJ. You hadn’t realized how badly you’d wanted him until this moment—until that kiss and the lingering feeling it left in its wake.

“Hey,” Pope’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You good?”

You turned your head to look at him, trying to hide the conflicted look on your face. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… a little too drunk,” you laughed, but there was an edge to your voice that betrayed you.

Pope raised an eyebrow. “If you say so. But just know, JJ’s been acting weird since the kiss. He’s too drunk to admit it—and I’m too drunk to go in depth about it, but he cares about you.”

You blinked, surprised by his honesty. “What are you talking about?” you said quickly, trying to sound casual, but your heart was racing.

Pope shrugged, his eyes softening. “I know JJ. He’s not good at talking about his feelings. Especially when it comes to you.”

Before you could respond, you caught JJ glancing at you from across the room. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes betrayed him. It was as if he was trying to keep his distance, but the pull between you both was undeniable.

He quickly turned his attention back to his drink, avoiding eye contact. You could feel the weight of his gaze even from across the room, and for a moment, you wanted nothing more than to walk up to him and pull him close. But you also knew that whatever was happening between you two—this unspoken tension, this flirtation—wasn’t something you were ready to figure out just yet.

The group around you began to fade into the background as you and JJ shared a moment of quiet understanding from across the room. No words were exchanged, but the silence spoke volumes. And just like that, you knew whatever was to come—it wasn’t going to feel good in the morning.

——

As the night stretched on, the weight of the alcohol settled in, and the chaotic energy of the group began to wane. The music faded out, and the laughter that had filled the room softened into sleepy chuckles and half-hearted conversations. The sounds of glasses clinking together became less frequent, replaced by tired yawns and people stretching, making their way to the camp fire outside and blankets that had been carelessly tossed around the circle.

You were sitting closer to the fire, taking in the warmth again your skin, your legs tucked under you as you quietly observed the others. John B and Sarah were curled up together, already half-asleep, with his arm slung around her shoulders. Pope and Cleo, though still conscious, were drifting into a peaceful silence, their eyes barely open as they snuggled into the cushions. Kie had already went inside a few minutes prior, complaining about how she had to be up early tomorrow morning. The only ones still wide-eyed were you and JJ, and despite the heaviness of the night, neither of you seemed ready to let it end just yet.

JJ, sitting across from you, had his elbow resting on his knee, his eyes trained on the fire in front of him. He seemed distant, but his occasional glances toward you didn’t go unnoticed. You caught his eyes again, and this time, instead of looking away, he let them linger.

You let out a quiet breath, unsure how to proceed. “We should probably help clean up,” you murmured, breaking the silence, your words a little slurred from the alcohol.

JJ chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair with a slight tilt of his head. “Eh, we’ll get to it tomorrow. It’s too late for that now. Let them sleep it off. We’ve earned a break.” His voice had a playful tone, but there was something in it, a flicker of something deeper, that caught your attention.

“Yeah, I guess,” you said quietly, nodding, though your eyes were still locked with his.

A few more moments of silence passed, the fire crackling softly, the only sound besides the occasional rustling of blankets as everyone else settled in for the night.

Suddenly, Cleo stood up, stretching and yawning loudly. “Alright, guys,” she said with a teasing grin. “I think it’s time for me to pass out. You know where to find the blankets.” She glanced at you and JJ. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, alright?”

“Trust me, Cleo, we’re just gonna… just chill out,” JJ said, flashing her a grin.

“You two are trouble, you don’t fool me” Cleo called over her shoulder, not looking back as she walked toward the makeshift sleeping area. Pope was already settling beside her, clearly exhausted from the night’s events.

With a small wave, Sarah and John B followed suit. “Goodnight, guys,” Sarah called, already half-asleep as she leaned into John B’s side, and they made their way to the back rooms of the house.

A quiet hush fell over the fire, and the last of the group had all but drifted into the house, leaving you and JJ alone, just the two of you still sitting in the dim glow of the firelight.

JJ was sitting on the edge of a chair, his elbows resting on his knees as he twirled an empty beer bottle in his hands. His hair was messy, falling into his eyes, and there was something about the way he looked at you now—unguarded, raw, like all the walls he’d built around himself had crumbled under the weight of the night.

You sat only a few feet away, mind swaying from the alcohol coursing through your veins, watching him with a mix of amusement and apprehension. He hadn’t said much since the others left, and for once, you didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable; it was charged.

“You know,” you finally broke the quiet, your voice softer than usual, “you have a really bad poker face”

JJ glanced up at you, his brows lifting in amusement. “Yeah?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. “And yours is any better, kook princess?”

You smirked at the nickname, taking a step closer. “You act like you don’t care about anything, but you do. A lot. You care about them”—you motioned toward the house—“you care about this place, and, whether you like it or not, you care about me.”

JJ’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, and you saw his jaw tighten as he glanced away, back at the bottle in his hands. “You’ve had too much to drink,” he muttered, his voice low.

“Maybe,” you admitted, taking another step closer. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

He laughed quietly, shaking his head. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Nope,” you said with a small smile, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not when it comes to you.”

That made him look up, his blue eyes locking onto yours in a way that made your breath hitch. The firelight danced in his gaze, but it wasn’t the flames you were focused on—it was the way he was looking at you, like he was trying to decide whether to keep pushing you away or finally let you in.

He stood, starting to diminish the fire in the pit, and for a moment you wondered if you should tell him you didn’t want to go back in the house, the drunken words hanging off your tongue in the moment. JJ on the other hand, had already been walking up to you, dumping his drink with one hand and holding the other one out to you.

“Want some company tonight?” His words make your stomach twist. Of course you did—hell, you’ve been staring at him all night. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or maybe just your overthinking, but the way he looked at you… it made you think so many things. Things you shouldn’t think about with your best friend.

You take your lip between your teeth, trying to hide the blush from your cheeks as you take his soft hand, nodding when you look up at him. You followed him into the shop, stopping to lean against the counter when he let go to put away some of the drinks back in the tiny fridge you had inside. You watched him, so many thoughts running through your head. You knew you wanted JJ… but for some reason—tonight was the night you were finally sick of waiting.

You watch as his muscle flex when he pushes the fridge door shut, making sure its broken latch actually stays. His messy hair is longer than usual, in need of a haircut but it clearly didn’t bother you in this light. Your mind ran wild with thoughts of your nails running across his arms, fingers intertwining with his blond locks. Fucking hell, why did you have to drink so much?

“You alright over there? Don’t tell me your day dreaming about me” his comment tunes you back in, your eyes averting to his and you notice how close he is to you now. Your eyelids were heavy, but your eyes said everything they needed to. You looked at him with passion, a clear and desperate need for him to just grab you and kiss you.

JJ’s smirk faltered slightly when he caught the way you were looking at him. His playful confidence wavered, and for a moment, it seemed like neither of you knew who would make the first move. The tension crackled like the remnants of the fire outside-intense and impossible to ignore.

"What?" he asked, his voice lower now, a nervous edge creeping in.

You shook your head, swallowing hard as you straightened against the counter. "You're just... annoying," you said, trying to say literally anything and sound casual, but your voice betrayed you, soft and breathless.

"Annoying?" he repeated, leaning a hand against the counter beside you, his eyes narrowing. "Funny, 'cause you're the one staring like I'm a damn trophy."

"I wasn't staring," you muttered, cheeks burning.

JJ tilted his head, his lips twitching into a lopsided grin. "Oh, you weren't? Could've fooled me."

You opened your mouth to reply, but he was already moving closer, his chest brushing against yours as his hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was so light, so deliberate, that it sent a shiver through you.

"Careful," he murmured, his eyes dipping to your lips. "You're starting to look at me like you want something."

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, the weight of them making your head spin even more than the alcohol already had.

He was so close now, his scent-salt, weed, and a faint trace of cologne-making your heart race.

"And if I do?" you whispered, barely recognizing your own voice.

JJ's jaw tightened, his playful demeanor slipping as his fingers hovered just above your cheek. His gaze flicked between your eyes and lips, and you could see the internal battle raging inside him.

"Don't do that," he muttered, shaking his head slightly.

"Do what?"

"Say things like that," he said, his voice rough. "You're gonna make me do something stupid."

You leaned into his touch, your lips parting as your hand moved to rest against his chest. His heart was pounding under your palm, and it gave you the courage to press on.

"Maybe I want you to," you said softly, your voice daring.

JJ let out a low, humorless laugh, his forehead coming to rest against yours. "You have no idea what you're asking for," he said, his voice strained.

"Then show me," you challenged, your lips brushing against his just enough to make him suck in a sharp breath.

“Fuck it” He huffs, and it was safe to say you couldn’t imagine the extent of what would happen next.

His restraint shattered in an instant. One of his hands gripped the counter beside you, the other cupping your face as his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was fiery and desperate, his need for you pouring out in every movement. You gasped into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed you back against the counter.

It was messy, intoxicating, and everything you'd imagined it would be. His hands roamed your sides, pulling you closer as if he couldn't stand even a breath of space between you.

"Fuck," he whispered against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "You're gonna kill me."

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your forehead still resting against his.

"Maybe that's the point," you said, a small, teasing smile curving your lips.

JJ let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head as he stared at you like you'd just turned his entire world upside down. His fingers brushed along your jawline, his gaze softening in a way that made your chest tighten.

"We’re so screwed," he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again, slower this time, more deliberate.

"Shut up and kiss me, Maybank," you teased, your smile breaking against his lips.

He didn't answer, but the way his hands tightened around you told you everything you needed to know. The tension that had been building between you all night finally melted away, leaving just the two of you and the undeniable pull that neither of you could fight any longer.

JJ’s kisses turned deeper, hungrier, as his hands tightened their hold on your hips, fingers digging into your skin like he was afraid you might slip away. He had you backed up against the counter, the edge pressing into your lower back, but the slight discomfort didn't matter. All you could feel was him—his warmth, his need, and the way he was finally letting himself give in.

Your fingers slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, brushing against his skin, and the sound he made against your lips sent a shiver down your spine. JJ broke the kiss, his lips moving to your jaw, then to your neck, leaving a trail of heat that made your head spin.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured against your skin, his voice low and rough.

Your breath hitched, your hands roaming up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath your fingertips. "Jayj…" you whisper, your voice soft but slightly shaking from the new sensation.

JJ pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his pupils blown wide and his lips red and slightly swollen. "You're dangerous," he said, shaking his head with a crooked grin.

"Me? You're the one who can't keep his hands to himself," you teased, tugging at his shirt.

"Yeah, well, you make it impossible," he shot back, his grin softening into something more genuine.

He pulled you into another kiss, slower this time, but no less intense. His hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing the bare skin just beneath your shirt, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You arched into him, your hands finding their way into his messy blond hair, pulling him even closer.

Somewhere in the haze of it all, JJ lifted you onto the counter, his hands gripping your thighs as he stepped between them.

The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered, made your chest tighten.

"JJ," you whispered, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

His name coming from your lips had sounded like a prayer only he was meant to hear. It shifted every gear in his body when he heard it. That breathless, innocent tone of yours. "Fuck. Keep saying it” he mumbled against your skin, his voice thick with want, his forehead resting against yours.

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I want you, Jayj. You have me" you confessed, your voice barely audible.

JJ let out a soft laugh, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "That’s my girl" he said, his voice carrying an honesty that made your breath catch.

He kissed you again, and this time, it felt different. It wasn't just about the tension or the alcohol—it was about everything that had been building between you for so long.

"Tell me to stop," JJ murmured against your lips, his hands trembling slightly as they trailed up your thighs. "Tell me to stop before we change our friendship forever."

You shook your head, your hands cupping his face. "Don't stop," you whispered, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. “Please… don’t stop, J” With a final laugh, JJ pulled you closer, smashing his lips against your own once again. At this point, you wasted no time in letting your hands explore each others body. Your fingers felt his perfectly chiseled chest under his shirt as he left sensual kisses and bites against your neck, quiet breaths leaving your lips as you let your head fall back in pleasure.

He was the first to slip off your shirt, tossing it to a random side of the shop as he admired the sight in front of him. You were perfectly tanned, the curves of your breast inside your bra made it even harder for him to focus. You whine as he kisses your collar, growing more and more desperate by the minute.

He smirks against your skin, his hand slipping underneath your bra until it came undone. “Impatient girl—I’ll take care of you” you let it fall, not caring even a little bit that you were almost fully exposed to him now. The shop had thin walls and makeshift windows—someone could see you if they wanted to, but you didn’t care as long as JJ’s arms were wrapped around you.

You make brief eye contact with him before he moves down your chest, his large hands kneading your breasts while his lips move over them. You were on cloud 9—so drunk and so incredibly horny for the boy in front of you that you didn’t care if anyone heard.

“You are so goddamn beautiful, Y/N” he mumbles against your skin, a moan slipping from your lips as his fingers dug firmer into your skin. It was so rough, such hungry movements against each other. It was perfect.

“Fuck, Jayj…” your fingers comb through his hair, the nails on your other hand digging into the wood countertop under you. As much as JJ was enjoying watching you fall apart, he knew he couldn’t do anything with you on the counter like this. At least not what he wanted.

You felt his hands tug you toward him, so harsh he’d moved you swiftly. Your legs wrapped around his waist like an order, and it was—an unspoken one to you. Your arms lay around his neck as he carries you upstairs, lips on your the entire time and your surprised he didn’t fall.

He laid you back against the couch, the two of you barely fitting as he followed you down. The heat from his body radiated your own—making the moment all too real. “J… not fair” you hum, tugging at his shirt that was still fully on while you lay fully exposed from the waist up. He chuckles, leaning back and pulling it over his head, throwing it to the other side of the room.

"We’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N" He tells you with a sharp tone, moving to place his hands against the couch fabric, closing you between him.

You smirk, looking him up and down once before looking back to his face. "Isn’t that what we’re all about?"

The two of you laid there, staring at the other for what felt like forever until He finally gave in, cursing himself under his breath before he grabbed your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. Your body is flush against his as he completely explores your body with his hands. You could feel his growing erection, you could feel his hunger for your body like he felt yours.

"JJ" You mumble in a breathless moan. His lips remove from yours and move to your jaw, hungrily peppering wet kisses down it, all the way to your neck.

"You are so fucking hot, Jesus" He groans against your ear, placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin.

Your moans are what encourage him the most.

Hearing your sweet whimpers in his ear as he sucked on your neck felt like a dream. Believe god, he'd had that dream many, many times before.

"I've waited so long for this" Your breathless under him, gripping his hair between your small fingers. You could feel his cock pressing against you, begging for your tongue. It was big-he was so fucking big. It should've scared you but you were more intrigued, grinding your hips against his to gain some friction with the little time you had before he stopped your bratty movements.

"I know you have" He teases and you only roll your eyes, grabbing his hand that held you steady against him. You could feel his lips brushing your skin, he wanted to mark you, and you wanted him to. You wanted JJ Maybank to let everyone know you were his.

"Having an attitude isn’t that attractive on you, Maybank. I know you’ve wanted me like this ever since I joined the pogues" You hum, holding his head and slightly pushing it down so his lips reattached to your neck. "But that’s okay, I'll find someone else—someone who hasn't played with me for years"

A grunt escapes his mouth as if he had been fighting with the feeling, shaking his head between your neck before meeting your eyes again; your bratty, untamed eyes.

"You've waited so long I thought? So long your body even reacts when I look at you" He's so obviously joking and you love every second of it. Every word of degradation is like music to your ears, like a forbidden kink you didn't know you had. Only for JJ. "This is what you wanted, huh? All those looks you'd give me after l'd make out with random kooks—you were so jealous, Sweetheart"

Your ears are perking at his every word but your eyes were filled with annoyance.

JJ knew now so why would you hide it? Hide your jealousy? "Fuck, Y/N. I’m so drunk but I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you if I was sober either"

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to his body then before with a smirk, shrugging your shoulders.

"That doesn't matter. You have me now" His eyes. Oh god, his eyes were so hungry. At first you didn't know what to think but it only took you a few seconds to realize once his large arms were wrapped around your thighs, pulling your body close to him.

His chin sat against your stomach, staring up at you like he had been waiting for you to say something.

But you didn't know what he was planning until his thumb was ghosting around your clothed clit, that same smirk pulling at his lips as he watched you.

He slips your shorts off with ease, along with your black lace underwear, tossing them both to the side.

"Fuck" You breath heavily, leaning your head back against the sheets, not even realizing the boy under you was now fully under you. "S-shit!" Your hand fell clasp over your mouth to silence your moan, eyes falling back on him under you. Except now, his face was pressed into your dripping wet cunt, and his fingers teased what his mouth didn't. "Fucking hell, J" You mumble under your unsteady breath, trying your hardest not to moan because he had just started and you didn't want to seem weak.

But holy shit, this boy knew how to use his tongue.

Your hand fell atop his head in hopes to gain some sort of stability but that quickly failed, given how badly he was attacking your clit. His mouth was warm against you and you already knew you'd come soon. It was like he knew your body inside and out.

"I know your not holding back on me, are you?" His words vibrate against your cunt making you jolt, thankful his arms held you down so you wouldn't squirm. JJ was in pure bliss under you, relishing in your sweet taste that so effortlessly painted his tongue. You were wet, your cunt was begging for more even if you were a crying mess above him, like it finally found what it had been longing for.

"Jayj…" He chuckles at your attempt at retaliation but still manages to one up you, slipping two of his fingers inside you. “J-JJ, let me-"

"No" He only uttered one word but it was enough to make you listen like a trained dog, allowing your legs to tremble against his face. You could've taken it had you been prepared, but it had been far too long before any guy had done this to you.

"You taste so fucking good, Y/N" His fingers curl against your spongy walls, pushing his tongue against your clit quickly as your moan's increased.

It was so clear you were already on edge, about to let go without it being over five minutes. You find your pride slipping from you in a matter of seconds, begging the man to let you come as your fingers tug his hair. You couldn't hold on, your legs were far too weak.

"Please, please-Jayj, please" His ears are perking as you moan his name, begging for him, moaning for him. Normally, he'd take his time with you but now?

He needed to release all that tension between the two of you from years ago, he knew he couldn't last much longer. He needed to be inside of you, and for that exact reason is why he only sped up under you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your mind tried to come up with some sort of reason as to how you got yourself here, How you got your best friend between your legs, and definitely how you were about to fully submit yourself to this boy while your true feelings for each other were unknown. He was thinking the same thing; how did he get so lucky to have you above him?

"That’s it, just let go for me, Pretty girl" In only seconds, you're coming undone above him, legs almost falling weak as they shook from your release, sending shivers throughout your entire body. JJ’s still torturing your body, pumping his fingers into you at a faster pace. It was clear, he was trying to kill you.

"J!" You cry, gripping his hair with a begging tone. You couldn't take it much longer. You had to push him away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he removed his tongue from you, letting his fingers slip from inside you. His strong arms are the only thing that held your legs still, and you could see your release painted on his chin once he looked up at you.

"Holy shit" You curse under your breath, chest heaving as he stood to his feet. You look at the boy above you, noticing once again how he towers over you. “Dick” you push him before laying back against the couch in a huff, your body still shuddering and your heart coming down from the high he had given you.

He bites his lip, admiring your perfect body that had been on almost full display for him. He leans down when you notice how hard he is, lifting your chin with the hand he hadn't used on you.

You watch through your eyelashes as he sucks his finger clean from your release, biting his lip with a silent chuckle at how lovingly you looked at him. You grab his hand, pulling it closer to you until his other finger was pressed against your lips-to which you copied his action from before, staring into his eyes as you did.

"That’s my girl" He knew you liked that. It was so obvious—the way your legs clench together at his praise. He pulls his hand away and moves it to your neck, pressing a soft but sloppy kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself from him, and God... it was so fucking hot.

Your hand feels his body effortlessly until you reach his aching print, a small smile pulling at your lips against him.

"Let me" You mumble breathlessly, placing your hand over his cock. You could feel how desperate he had been for you, how badly he wanted you in that moment. His hand wraps around your throat firmly, pulling your lips to crash back into his own. He was so rough and impatient—you loved it.

"No. I need you. Right now" His voice is deep and makes your skin shiver, the way his hands touch you so delicately but with control. It was slightly dark around you, only lit by the string lights strung high up around the outsides of the shop.

"You have me, Jayj. You’ve… you’ve always had me" Your words make his and your own stomach twist into knots, he almost felt bad. He waited so long to make the move, afraid he misread the signs, but he'd never admit that. You allow your hands to travel down his bare abs, feeling every chisel between the pads of your fingertips. When you reach his belt, you're quick to help him tug his pants off, watching him with the most admiration.

"I won’t be able to look at you with anyone else after we do this" He looks at you once more, both of your hands laid on the waistband of his underwear. You lay your free hand on the side of his neck and use the other to touch him lower. Right where he wanted you the entire time.

His breath shutters at your bare touch, something he's wanted for so long was finally right in front of him. You were all he wanted and he prayed you ensue him just as much.

"You mean… everything to me, Jayj" You tell him truthfully, watching his eyes soften just before you pulled his face down to kiss his lips. Except this kiss had much more

meaning-the kiss after you'd admit your feelings for one another.

He leans you down, closing you between his large body and his bed, your hand is still pressed into his print, but he's already slipping his underwear off by the time you can notice.

Fuck. He was going to ruin you.

Your hands cup his face when his tip presses against your entrance, slick coating it by the second. You wanted him for so long, you didn't care if it hurt at first.

You just wanted him.

From the moment he pushed inside of you, the only feeling you could endure was love. He was slow, gentle to help you get used to his size. The boy peppers kisses to your neck as he pushed further, comforting your slightly pained moans that slip from your lips without warning.

"Mmm" You let out a soft moan once his tip is past your entrance, the hard part was now over. You look at him with your lips parted, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. He pushes your hair out of your face before kissing you, and you weren't prepared for when he pushed into you fully with one snap of his hips.

Your toes curled and your nails dug into his skin desperately, the feeling was almost indescribable. You just felt... full.

"Oh my god" You moan against his lips, throwing your head back as he strokes you slowly, massaging your thigh. You looked so perfect like this, so pretty in this light. Your body was almost bare for him, and your body was welcoming him with open arms—he couldn't get enough of you. "J... JJ" one of your hands release his shoulder to grip the sheet underneath you, teeth catching your bottom lip between them.

"Fuck, Y/N. I can’t…" He bites his lip, moving his head down to your neck, placing sloppy kisses against it. His hips find a steady pace at first and gradually work their way up, starting deep, then fast to your skin. "God, you feel so good" one of his hands travels up your body until it reaches the curve of your breasts, his large hands teasing your nipples.

"Such a tease, J…" Your breathless words are too late when he's already looking over your now fully bare body, completely discarding your words. Jesus, you were so perfect.

"You are so beautiful, Y/N" He presses a kiss to your lips before moving down your body, trailing his wet tongue down until he reached your nipple. He couldn't take his eyes off you, the curves of your body... you were practically made for him. A shuddered moan escapes your lips when he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, kneading the other with his free hand.

"Mmm!" Between the stokes of his hips and the sensations he brought to your skin, you couldn't hold much in. You were sure you were being too loud but the two of you didn't care. It was just you and him, nobody else.

His strong arms capture your thighs, pulling one of your legs to rest against his shoulder. "JJ! I can't... oh my gosh" Your little voice is projecting off the walls of the empty room but you don't care, only worried about the boy above you. Your head was still slightly spinning from the drinks you endured earlier that night and it only mixed with your horny mess of a body, begging Colby for more. "It's so good... fuck! You're so fucking good!"

"Look at you. Such a fucking mess under me. You needed me just as much as I needed you" He grabs the back of your head, pulling you up slightly so you were at an angle you couldn't look away from him.

His big eyes were burning holes into your own, hips rutting into you like he had something to prove.

Which he did.

"Gonna come..! J, I'm gonna come!" You’re a whining mess under him and he loves every second of it, pushing his hips into you faster then before.

Your small body was like a toy in his hand and you were at his every command, doing everything he said.

"Come for me. Want you to scream my name so all of those no good kooks hear how much of a slut you are for a ‘worthless’ pogue like me” You knew it was a bad idea but who were you to decline that request? You were already screaming as it was. "My dirty girl, Your so fucking hot like this”

"I'm coming! I'm-oh my god I-" Your voice is cut off by your loud moan, leg shuttering against his shoulder as you felt your release threatening to push over. His tip was kissing your cervix repeatedly, and you knew you couldn't last much longer. "J..!" You cry out, pressing your hand to his chest as if that was going to do anything. Your orgasm finally tipped, and you felt it hit you like a truck.

"That's it, Baby. That’s my fuckin’ girl" His thumb rubs circles against your clit as he ruts into your harder, watching your liquid spurt from between the two of you. "My god, Y/N. So fucking good for me"

"Jayj... please—Jesus—“

"Your body is calling mine for more. You want more" You grip his large arms until your knuckles turn white, scratching along his tanned skin. You curse at him, not wanting to hear his teasing any longer. "Fuck me? I'm only giving you what you want" You look at him with an angry look for a second before completely switching, a smirk pulling at your lips.

He pulls out of you all at once making you whine, not able to protest before he's already flipping you over onto your stomach and pushing your ass in the air.

You giggle, stretching your arms in front of you as you arch your back against him, begging him to forgive you. "I was only joking, Pretty boy" You hum, looking back at his face.

He doesn't say anything and grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back onto his length that so easily slipped inside of you. Your eyes roll back almost instantly as he bottoms you out, pushing his cock as deep as he could reach inside you. "This is what you wanted? Never knew you were such a brat" He growls against your ear, slamming himself into your harder than he had been before. You couldn't even think straight, you were already so fucked out you didn't even remember what it felt like to not be fucked.

"fuck! Right there! Please, J—Mmph!" Your begging voice is music to his ears, your hands reaching back to hold onto his warm body as he pushed himself against you. "You're so deep... so fucking good to me, J" He hums, leaning against your body so you were entirely pressing against him, his tongue running along your skin. Once again, you could feel his sloppy kisses against your shoulder and your neck.

"Nobody can have you like I can, Y/N. Your mine. You're all fucking mine, you hear me?" You cry out a yes, the sound of your skin slapping against each others being the only thing that could be heard. "That's it, just like that, my love" He praises against your ear, holding your hips to press into his.

"JJ, I'm gonna come ag... oh my god" You whine into your hand, feeling the pressure building up fast inside you. He's a grunting mess above you so you knew he was close as well, he was only holding out for you.

"Come with me. Please, don't hold out on me"

The snap of his hips slow down the closer he gets, and now your body is flush against his own, rocking back and forth to his pace with his face buried in your neck.

"That’s it—that’s my pretty girl. My fuckin’ girl, come for me and only me, yeah?" You moan at his words, throwing your head back against his chest as his fingers circle your sensitive clit. you couldn't hold it anymore, and neither could he. "I'm right behind you"

Drunk sex always felt way too good but usually it was faster and much sweatier, this felt far too different.

Even if your hips moved fast against his, it still felt like everything had been in slow motion. The way his hands held your delicate body in his embrace as he thrust his hips up to meet your own, how his lips parted in anticipation to kiss yours, JJ was so hungry for you—his body, was hungry for you.

"J... JJ!" His name rolls off your tongue in a beautiful moan. You can feel his slight hesitance but the eyes you give him are enough to tell him exactly what you wanted. You were on birth control—and you wanted all of him, just as you said.

"Fuck...!" He curses under his breath, your moans filling his ears as you clenched down onto him. He continues to coach you to it, and with one last snap of his hips and circle to your clit, you felt your body release it's everything onto his. He shushes your loud scream while silencing his own grunts, fingers digging into your hips to pull you close, painting your walls with his white, hot release.

For awhile, All that was heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of the tv in the other room, and you soon found yourself collapsed on top of him against the couch. Your chests were heaving horribly, and the sweat that dripped from your foreheads were now everywhere. You look over at the boy next to you, only to find he had already been looking at you, both of you breathing heavy-lips parted.

It only took a second for one of you to start laughing, and JJ leaned over to kiss you again, this time staying there for the longest he could.

You hum as he pulls away just a tiny bit, still close to your face. Your eyes are shut, relishing in the feeling you had. How do you go on from this? Clearly you two loved each other, but you prayed it wouldn't be weird...

"Come here" He lays his arm out, pulling your body closer to his so you could lay your head against his chest. The room was hot, despite that fact it was basically without windows, and smelled of pure sex but neither of you complained. You were just happy.

"Jayj..." You mumble after awhile in silence, tracing lines on his chest for the 2nd time. He hums in response, the tips of his fingers brushing through your soft hair. You almost feel bad, as it you're about to ruin the amazing night you had —but you had to say it. "Where do we go from here..?"

Your voice is low and nervous, so focused on the negative that you couldn't even see the obvious answer. JJ made it clear what he wanted. He couldn't go back to normal with you—not after this night.

“Don’t worry about that right now, Alright? We’re both still drunk as shit, let’s enjoy the quiet night we have and face the music tomorrow, yeah?” He pushes strands of your hair from your face, and a slight tug at your heart subsides but you know it’s okay. You knew this could never be casual to either of you.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Captain Maybank” He chuckled, leaning his head down to press a kiss to your forehead. You smile, interlocking your fingers with his own against your shoulder. You couldn’t believe it—you were actually here with him.

After all this time.

“Only the best for my girl”

I literally haven’t written in so long. Sorry if this was rushed, the ORIGINAL VERSION was super long so I had to cut it down 🥲

[saythenametotheworld]

Foolish One | h.rj

A chance encounter with Renjun at the campus library turns into late-night study sessions and stolen moments. He's everything you're looking for—thoughtful, kind, intelligent. But is this the start of something real, or just a story you’re telling yourself?

ONE | two | three | four | five

Genre: crush-at-first-sight, college AU Pairing: Huang Renjun x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, language, the plot is dragged out a bit lol Notes: 17k words. Part 1 of the Campus Confessions series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Foolish One by Taylor Swift. Genuinely, let me know what you guys think of this. I am very open-minded to constructive criticism. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

Playlist: 1 2 3 by NCT DREAM, Risk by Gracie Abrams, Jump Then Fall by Taylor Swift, Foolish One by Taylor Swift

The campus library was quieter than you expected for a Tuesday afternoon during exam week, the kind of silence that made your every move feel amplified and noticeable. You were feeling self-conscious, wondering if everyone was noticing you standing awkwardly at the front desk while the librarian refused to check out the book you wanted to borrow. But the embarrassment didn’t bother you as much as the growing panic in your chest. You really needed this book right now so you could do a last minute study before your exam in thirty minutes.

Clutching a notebook against your chest, you gave the librarian a pleading look. “Please? Just this once?”

“I’m sorry, but I really can’t do that without your student ID,” the librarian said, her tone polite but firm. “You know how it works right? We need it for the record.”

You gave a tight smile, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Isn’t there any way to bypass that? I mean, don’t you have librarian privileges, something like that? Please, it would take at least fifteen minutes to get to my apartment for my ID, and another fifteen to come back here.”

The librarian sighed, taking her glasses off and setting it down on her desk. She gave you a stern look. “I know you’re desperate, but I can’t just bend the rules even if I want to. Especially not for a student who’s negligent enough to forget her ID at home when you should be carrying it on your person at all times.”

You were about to protest when a smooth and calm voice spoke from behind you. “Here use mine.”

You turned to see a boy holding out his ID card. Silvery blond hair brushed lightly across his eyes, and his pale skin seemed to glow faintly under the library lights. The thin-framed glasses resting on his nose didn’t hide the sharp clarity in his gaze—calm, observant, and entirely unbothered by the chaos you were exuding. His expression was calm as if lending his card to a stranger was the most natural thing in the world. Somehow, that made you even more flustered.

“Oh,” you said, blinking at him. “That’s really nice of you. Thank you.”

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You looked like you’re about to cry.”

Letting out a sheepish laugh, you took the card and handed it to the librarian. “I mean, I was just about to, actually,” you quipped.

It didn’t even take two minutes for the librarian to check out the book. You returned his ID, your gaze catching his name—Huang Renjun—before handing it back.

“Here. And, uh, thanks again.”

“No problem,” he said, smiling before taking his turn to check out his books. “Good luck with your exam.”

“Thanks. You too,” you replied. As he went to talk to the librarian, you stood there for a moment, hesitating, wanting to say more, or to ask him something—anything—but you had stuff to do. The exam wasn’t going to study itself.

You rushed out of the library, muttering his name under your breath and telling yourself not to forget about the cute boy with the silvery blond hair and an ID he didn’t hesitate to lend.

It’s your second semester as a freshman, and so far, you could say you weren’t the type of student to get caught up in the grind of academics. You took up Liberal Arts out of necessity instead of passion. After highschool, you didn’t have a clear-cut direction or dream job in mind, but you knew you had to go to college so you picked something that left the options open, hoping that eventually, you’d figure it out.

When it comes to academics, you do just enough to get by. Your grades are respectable but nothing extraordinary. You’re not taking things for granted—you just didn’t see the point in staying up all night studying or stressing over perfect grades. Even with average grades, as long as you passed, that was good enough for you. While you respected those who worked hard to excel in their academics, you didn’t feel the need to compete with them. You weren’t interested in pushing yourself that far.

Your friends often teased you about it, calling you laid-back or lazy, but they understood. You didn’t need to be at the top of the class to feel content. You just gave enough to get by, balancing school and the rest of your life without too much strain. You figured most people probably felt the same way—just doing enough, hoping things would eventually fall into place.

“How are you feeling?” Karina asked Giselle, her eyes full of concern. The two of them sat beside you on the mat you’d spread out on the grass in the quad.

They were your housemates—your friends, too—living in the big apartment you all shared. You’d met them at the start of the school year, and sharing a space together had made it easy to grow close.

Giselle sighed, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Not any better. I think the medicine’s not doing anything.”

You rubbed her back gently, trying to comfort her. “Just give it some time. If it gets worse, you can rest at home. I’ll make you some healthy soup.”

Giselle raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You can’t cook.”

You laughed, shrugging casually. “How hard can it be? I’m a fast learner.”

Jaemin, who had been sitting across from you, snickered. “Shut up. You can’t even tell the difference between a cucumber and a zucchini.”

You gasped dramatically, scooting away from him, glaring. “You shut up! You used to follow me around like a puppy when we were kids. Stop acting like you’re the smart one.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes. “We were fourteen, not kids.”

You smirked. “Doesn’t change the fact that you followed me around like a lost puppy.”

Jaemin crossed his arms, sighing heavily. “I’m just making things clear because I don’t want to sit here and watch you rewrite the facts in front of your friends. And just for the record, I was lost at the time.”

Karina turned to Giselle. “How does anyone confuse zucchini with cucumber?”

Giselle just shrugged, unimpressed.

You shot them both a look. “In my defense, they look exactly the same!”

The two stared at you, shaking their heads in perfect unison. It was almost comical. “No, they don’t,” Giselle said flatly.

“They really don’t,” Karina agreed.

You were about to fire back when something—or rather, someone—caught your eye. That unmistakable side profile, the silvery hair catching the sunlight just right. “Huang Renjun,” you blurted out, your voice almost dreamy as your gaze followed him.

“Huang who?” Giselle asked, turning to follow your line of sight. Her eyes lit up. “Oh, the guy from the library?”

“Yes!” you gasped, clasping your hands over your mouth like you’d just seen a celebrity. “See? I told you he’s cute.”

“You’re right, he totally is,” Karina chimed in, sharing the same gleeful smile as you and Giselle.

“What’s going on? Who’s that?” Jaemin leaned closer, his curiosity piqued.

You grinned, leaning toward him like you were about to spill the juiciest secret. “He’s the guy who saved my ass yesterday.”

All eyes shifted back to Renjun, who stood by the library talking to a group of students. From this distance, you could see the bright smile on his face as he laughed at something his friend said. He looked so effortlessly friendly, so unbothered—and something about that gave you butterflies.

Giselle nudged your arm, eyes glinting with mischief. “Go say ‘hi’!”

“No way!” you hissed, snapping your head toward her. “He probably doesn’t even remember me.”

You stayed rooted to your spot, feeling your friends’ teasing remarks rain down on you like playful jabs. They nudged and prodded, daring you to make a move, but you could only keep your eyes on Renjun. He lingered outside the library for a few minutes before finally stepping inside, disappearing through the double doors. Before you could think too much, your body moved on autopilot.

“I'll be back,” you mumbled to your friends, brushing off their teasing ‘oooh’s as you hurried across the quad. They exchanged knowing looks, grinning like they’d already won some secret bet, but you ignored them and followed him.  

Inside the library, the cool, quiet air made you pause. You spotted Renjun by the window just as he was sitting down at a vacant desk. Summoning every ounce of courage you had, you approached him.

“Hi,” you said softly, feeling your voice wobble just enough to make you cringe.

Renjun turned, his expression neutral at first before recognition lit up his eyes. “Oh, hey,” he said with a small smile. “What’s up?”  

“I, uh…” You cleared your throat, clutching the book in your hands like it was a lifeline. “I was going to return this today, so I’m gonna have to bother you again with your ID to check it in.” You laughed nervously, hoping the self-deprecation would make up for how awkward you felt.  

Renjun’s smile widened just slightly. “Sure, don’t worry about it. It would’ve been worse if you didn’t.” he teased lightly. Before you could answer, he reached into his pocket, pulling out his own card. “Here.”

“Didn’t want a loaned book to hold your GPA back at the end of the semester, right?” you quipped, taking the card from his hand. Renjun chuckled as he nodded. “I’ll be back in a jiffy,” you added before turning to head to the front desk.

After the book was returned, you skipped over to Renjun’s desk and thanked him for his help. He seemed busy with something, so he just told you you were welcome before returning to his task. Meanwhile, you found yourself lingering. The rational part of your brain was telling you to leave and not push your luck, but the louder part was convincing you to stay.

You spotted a vacant desk next to Renjun’s, so you slid into a seat, pulling out your laptop and the notes for a class paper you were gonna start. The paper wasn’t due until next week, but you needed an excuse—a reason to stay within Renjun’s orbit. So you started typing, glancing at your screen for a few seconds before inevitably stealing a look at him. He was sitting a few tables away, scribbling in a notebook, his expression focused.  He looked extra cute by the window, a soft beam of sunlight catching his hair and his flawless skin as he worked. The way his brows furrowed in concentration, the absentminded way he twirled his pen—it was like he didn’t even realize how distractingly handsome he was. Then again, maybe it was just in your eyes because there was no denying the fact that you were immensely infatuated by him.

You were mid-sentence in your essay when you stole another glance. But he glanced up just as your gaze lingered a second too long. Your eyes darted back to your screen so fast it was a miracle you didn’t get whiplash. Too late, you’d been caught red-handed already. Still, you couldn’t help yourself from doing it again, making sure to be more subtle this time—only to fail at it.

The second time he caught you looking, he held your gaze for a second longer, one eyebrow lifting in silent amusement. By the third or fourth time, he set his pen down, leaned back slightly, and called out softly, “Am I distracting you from your work?”  

You froze, heat rushing to your cheeks. “What? No, I wasn’t—” You fumbled, searching for an excuse. “I was just… looking around. Yes. I’m looking around as I think.”

Renjun chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I see. I thought I had something on my head,” he said, gesturing over his head.  

You huffed, flustered, and busied yourself with your notes, hoping to regain your composure. To your surprise, Renjun didn’t let the moment hang awkwardly. Instead, he asked casually, “What are you working on?”  

“Oh,” you said, grateful for the topic shift. “It’s an essay for a philosophy class.”  

He tilted his head, curious. “Which one?”  

You named the subject, and his expression brightened. “I took that last semester,” he said. “Professor Lee, right?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” you confirmed.

Renjun nodded thoughtfully. ““Well, then you don’t need to worry much. She’s really chill. She’s not the kind of professor who’ll mark you down for having a different opinion, so you can pretty much write how you actually feel about the topic.”  

His words surprised you. “Really?”  

“Really,” he said with a nod. “She actually encourages it. Just make sure you explain your points well. She likes a good argument.”  

You found yourself smiling, his advice easing some of the stress you hadn’t realized you were carrying about the essay. “Thanks. That’s actually very helpful.”  

“No problem.” He picked up his pen again, flashing you one last smile before returning to his notes.  

And just like that, you had one more reason to stay a little longer. You continued writing your paper, making sure you did it well and explained your points clearly. Occasionally, you would glance up at him, grinning to yourself at how attractive he looked when he was focusing. You didn’t need to talk after that. You wanted to, but you couldn’t find the right timing nor the right topic. By the time your phone alarm went off for your next class, you were already halfway through your essay.

Standing up to gather your things, you gave Renjun another glance, debating whether to say goodbye. The idea of walking off without a word felt odd, but you worried a goodbye might seem too eager, too obvious. So you hesitated—just long enough for him to notice.

“Done already?” Renjun asked, tilting his head slightly.

““No! Not yet.” Your response came faster than you intended. “I mean, I have to go to class, so… I’ll finish later.”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “If you need help with that paper, let me know. Maybe I can offer some pointers.”

The offer caught you off guard, and for a second, all you could do was blink at him.

Renjun seemed to realize how it sounded, and his hand darted up to rub the back of his neck. “Wait, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean it like—uh—it wasn’t supposed to sound—” He let out a nervous chuckle. “That was kind of arrogant, wasn’t it?”

“No! Not at all!” you said quickly, shaking your head with more enthusiasm than you intended. “I mean, I would definitely let you know if I needed help.”

His laughter softened, and he ducked his head slightly, as though embarrassed. “Well, now it sounds like I think I’m a genius or something.”

“Renjun, stop. You’re fine,” you assured him, a smile creeping onto your face. And you meant it. There was something unexpectedly charming about his fumbling attempt to explain himself.

He hesitated, then asked, almost shyly, “What’s your name?”

You blinked again. “Sorry?”

“I just realized… you know my name, but I don’t know yours,” he explained, the tips of his ears noticeably pink.

“Oh!” You told him your name, watching as he repeated it under his breath—not once, but twice, as though memorizing every syllable.

When he looked up at you, his smile was soft, almost boyish. “Nice to meet you. You should get to class before you’re late.”

“Right. Yeah. Um, see you around,” you said, clutching your bag tightly and walking out before you said something embarrassingly incoherent.

As soon as you were out of sight, you let the grin you’d been holding back take over. It was silly, how a few awkward exchanges could make your heart race like this. For the first time in a long while, it felt less like fleeting, hormone-driven infatuation and more like a genuinely innocent crush.

For the next few days, the library became your favorite spot, and it definitely wasn’t just because of your paper. Whether it was morning or late afternoon, you found yourself there, trying to catch glimpses of Renjun. Sometimes he was already settled in when you arrived, headphones on and pen tapping rhythmically against his notebook. Other times, you got there first and watched the door with anticipation.

You made it a point to sit near him whenever you could. If the spot next to him was taken, you’d find a table within view. Eventually, you started interacting a bit more, small moments that shouldn’t have felt significant but somehow they did.

Like the time you dropped your pen and Renjun leaned down to retrieve it, handing it to you with a quiet, “Here you go.” 

His fingers brushed yours briefly, and though it lasted less than a second, it was enough to make your heart skip a beat. Another time, while unpacking your bag, your water bottle rolled off the table. Renjun caught it mid-fall and handed it back with an amused smile. “Careful, your bag is out for sabotage today,” he joked.

You smiled, shaking your head. “Not when you’re here to save the day,” you retorted, feeling proud of your quick and witty response.

Then there was the time you walked past him on your way to the shelves, and he looked up, offering a small nod of acknowledgment. It wasn’t much—just a polite gesture—but it left you grinning like an idiot as you pretended to browse the books, replaying the moment in your head.

One morning, Renjun sneezed, and you instinctively murmured, “Bless you.” He glanced at you, surprised but touched. 

“Thanks,” he said softly, his smile warm enough to make you forget where you were.

Each interaction, however small, only made you more drawn to him. One day, Giselle decided to tag along, claiming she needed to ‘see this Renjun guy’ for herself. The two of you walked into the library, and sure enough, he was already there, engrossed in his notes. Giselle wasted no time making her move, striding right up to him with her trademark confidence.

“Hi! You’re Renjun, right?” she asked, her tone friendly but direct.

Renjun looked up, startled but polite. “Uh, yeah. Do I know you?”

“No, but I think we have a mutual friend. Ningning?”

Renjun’s expression softened at the mention of Ningning, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, yeah, Ningning.”

“How is she? I haven’t seen her since last semester.”

You watched the exchange from a few steps away, nervous and embarrassed at the same time. Giselle was handling the conversation so effortlessly, but you couldn’t help but worry about how this would make you look.

After chatting for a minute, Giselle turned to you and grinned. “Nice to meet you, we’ll leave you to it. Or, actually,” she gestured to the empty seat across from Renjun, “do you mind if we sit here?”

Renjun shook his head. “No. Go ahead.”

Giselle gave you a pointed look as the two of you sat down, clearly proud of herself for setting this up. That day, you ended up sitting with Renjun without needing an excuse. Giselle paved the way with her easy conversation, dropping Ningning’s name enough times to turn the awkward encounter into something comfortable. She only stayed for about twenty minutes before leaving, claiming she had other things to do. 

“Good luck with your paper!” she called out, leaving you alone with Renjun. You chatted a lot more than usual then, and you were giddy and smiling the whole time.

The moment that truly melted you, though, happened on a particularly busy day. The library was unusually crowded, and you could not find a vacant seat. You were about to leave for the day when you spotted a hand waving in the air. It took you a second to realize it was Renjun, beckoning you over to the seat next to him.

The sight made your stomach flutter, sending a wholesome kind of warmth through you. You didn’t even hesitate, smiling as you walked through the maze of desks and sat down next to him. “Hi! This place is full full.”

“I know. It’s not even exam week,” he replied while you were setting your stuff down. Then he gestured to the side of the table where his books were sprawled. “Do you need more space? I can move these.”

“Oh no, it’s fine,” you said quickly, but the gesture made your chest flutter all the same.

It was almost the deadline for your paper, and while you were hoping you could use that as an excuse to sit with him that day, it seemed unnecessary now. Still, you thought it would be best to ask for his help while you were there.

“I’m taking you up on that offer today,” you began, hoping your cheerfulness would mask the nervousness you were feeling.

“Finally,” he quipped back, closing his book as he watched you open your laptop beside him. “I was starting to feel embarrassed about that offer. I was thinking you never really needed help and I was being arrogant.”

“Oh, stop it,” you huffed, toggling to the paper in your device. “Here. Would you mind taking a look at my draft? Just to see if it makes sense?”

Instead of tugging the laptop toward him, as you normally would, Renjun scooted closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as he leaned over your screen. He read it as it was, eyes scanning your words with quiet focus. Probably too focused to even notice you holding your breath beside him, heart racing in your chest at the sudden proximity.

“This is good,” he said after a moment, his voice low and thoughtful. “But here, maybe you could elaborate more on this point. And this—” he gestured to another part, “—is strong, but you could link it back to this statement more clearly.”  

You nodded, though most of his advice went over your head because your brain was too busy short-circuiting over how close he was. The scent of his cologne, the way his lips moved as he explained something you didn’t catch—all of it was impossibly distracting.

When he leaned back, you snapped out of your daze enough to say, “Thanks. That was really helpful.”  

“It’s nothing,” he said, flashing a small smile. “If you need help again, just let me know—so long as it’s something I actually know.”  

And then he added, almost offhandedly, “It’s nice studying with someone.”  

Your heart skipped a beat, and you didn’t hesitate to seize the moment. “Maybe we could be study buddies?” you offered, trying to sound as casual as you could.

Renjun looked at you for a second, then nodded. “You know what? Maybe we should be study buddies.”

Ever since you moved away for college, you’d grown to enjoy three things: first, the independence of doing things on your own time without having to consider family members; second, experiencing a city so different from the hometown where you’d spent most of your life; and lastly, going to parties without a curfew.

These might sound shallow to some people, and honestly, you thought so too. Then again, you’d happily admit that you weren’t a profound kind of girl.  Growing up, you’d always been easy to please—and just as easy to disappoint. You wore your heart on your sleeve, never bothering to bottle up your feelings or hide your opinions. It helped that you were outgoing, the kind of person who cared more about your own well being than having beef with other people, so you never really had to fight anyone.

That being said, you liked to keep your circle small, only making friends with people you like and keeping a civil relationship with everyone else. With your small circle of friends—only Giselle, Karina, and Jaemin—it was easy to just tell them everything about you.

But tonight, even that small circle couldn’t make this party feel less exhausting.

“Girl, you did not come here just to stay invisible in a corner,” Karina sighed, towering over you on the lumpy corner couch while you sipped from a red plastic cup.

“What?” you asked, genuinely puzzled. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, be normal? You’re more fun than this,” she retorted, squeezing herself into the seat next to you. “Don’t make me sound like your mom, but it’s like you’re not even trying tonight. You’re usually the one dragging me into something embarrassing.”

“Yeah, but this is kinda boring, don’t you think?” you said, gesturing vaguely at the chaos around you.

Music blared from the speakers, with strobe lights dancing in the ceilings and the floors all around you. Blending with the music were the sounds of people chatting and laughing animatedly. Students were either drunk or high, dancing in circles or hanging off each other. Even the air felt too heavy, thick with the smell of sweat, booze, and something you were pretty sure wasn’t tobacco.

Karina’s eyes widened like you’d just said something ridiculous. “Boring? This?” she scoffed, throwing her hands up at the lively crowd.

You grinned at her over the rim of your cup. “Just saying.”

She rolled her eyes, but you noticed the corner of her lips twitching like she was trying not to smile. The two of you must have looked ridiculous, crammed onto the tiny couch while the rest of the party swirled around you.

“Where’s Gigi, anyway?” Karina asked, scanning the crowd.

You leaned to the side, spotting Giselle at the bar. She was laughing with a guy who was practically draped over her, his lips close to her ear as he whispered something that made her toss her hair back and giggle.

“She’s having fun,” you said, nodding toward her.

“At least one of us is,” Karina grumbled.

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to sit here and look lonely with me. I was doing a good enough job of it by myself,” you teased, nudging her shoulder.

Before she could retort, Jaemin appeared between the two of you, crouching slightly so he could speak right into your ears. “Long faces at a party? You two are ruining the vibe.”

“Go away,” Karina grumbled, shoving Jaemin’s face with her palm.

Undeterred, Jaemin grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers with a devilish grin. “I know why you’re sulking. Forget about him; he’s not coming.”

“You little—” Karina tried to yank her hand back, but Jaemin held on, wagging his head as if scolding her.

Turning his attention to you, he asked, “And you? What’s your excuse? Hungry? Sleepy? Time of the month? Which is it?”

“What are you even talking about?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

Jaemin narrowed his eyes like he’d caught you in a lie. “You do know that it’s weirder to see you idle at a party than when you’re throwing it back on the dance floor, right?”

You shrugged, taking another sip from your cup. “Can’t a girl take a break from all that?”

Karina, finally prying her hand free, leaned back with a smirk. “Shouldn’t you be happy about this? Less activity from her means less work for you.”

Jaemin stood upright like he’d just had a light bulb moment. It was also then that Giselle came bounding over excitedly. “Jeno. Jeno. Jeno,” she chanted, pointing toward the staircase.

Your ears perked up as you followed her gaze. There he was—Lee Jeno—locked in a steamy makeout session with a pretty girl you’d seen around before.

Karina gave you a sidelong glance, her voice cautious. “Are you seeing that right now?”

“I am,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “What a fuckboy.”

Giselle raised an eyebrow, nudging your arm. “Yet you still like him, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” you admitted with a chuckle. “Him being a fuckboy doesn’t change the fact that he’s hot.”

Karina cringed dramatically. “Your judgment is so questionable.”

Jaemin snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Hold up. What’s going on? Do you have a thing for Lee Jeno too?” When you grinned instead of answering, he groaned, shaking his head. “Just how many crushes do you have, woman?”

Honestly, only two—Jeno and Renjun. But these days, Renjun had the edge. Jeno might’ve been the one who flirted with you last semester, but lately, you couldn’t help but swoon over Renjun’s quieter, more thoughtful charm.

“I like Renjun more,” you confessed. “He’s just the complete opposite of Jeno. I kinda wish he were here. Though I know this isn’t really his scene.”

“Girl, doesn’t it bother you that you like two completely different types of guys at the same time?” Karina asked, genuinely curious.

You scoffed, throwing your hands up in mock exasperation. “Girl, does it matter?”

For a while, you stayed in the corner, sipping your drink and chatting with your friends. But as the minutes ticked by, the infectious energy of the crowd started pulling you in. Soon you were getting up from the couch and joining the thrumming crowd, Karina trailing behind you.

Giselle and Jaemin quickly found their own adventures—Giselle gravitating back toward the bar, her giggles disappearing into the noise, and Jaemin vanishing somewhere toward the dance floor. That left you and Karina sticking close, both of you weaving through the chaos as you searched for the makeshift minibar.

That’s when Donghyuck appeared.

The first thing he did when he saw you was flirt. “Hi, gorgeous. Are you going home with me after this, or should we just skip the formalities and head back to my place now?”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Pass.”

He smirked, completely unfazed. “The bathroom’s closer if my place is too far for you.”

“Isn’t your place Mark Lee’s place?” you shot back. “Hard pass.”

Donghyuck’s grin widened like he’d been waiting for you to say that. “Aw, still sore about getting rejected by Mark?”

“I wasn’t rejected,” you snapped, turning to face him fully. “It was a misunderstanding.”

“Sure it was,” he drawled, leaning in closer. “But lucky for you, Mark’s not coming home tonight. Think of it as a golden opportunity.”

“Dude, she’s just not that into you,” Karina cut in, her tone flat as she rolled her eyes.

Donghyuck turned to her with a theatrical gasp. “I don’t know about that,” he replied, looking back at you and winking playfully.

You felt a chill run down your spine—not the kind caused by fear or disgust, but the kind that made your skin tingle and sent heat between your thighs. It was infuriating how easily Lee Donghyuck could pull that off, and even more infuriating that your body had the nerve to respond.

But you’d sooner gouge your own eyes out than admit that to him. “Go away, Hyuck,” you said, shoving him lightly with your free hand.

He laughed, stepping back just enough to give you space but staying close enough to remain a nuisance. “See you later, then.”

As he walked off, Karina gave you a side-eye. “You’re not hanging out with that guy, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” you lied, taking another sip of your drink and avoiding her gaze.

“Good. That guy is nothing but trouble,” she replied, glancing back at Donghyuck who had now found another girl to bother.

The next morning, you woke up to the sharp ring of your alarm blaring in your ears. Disoriented, you reached out blindly to silence it, only for your hand to slap the cold, hard floor. Floor? You groaned, peeling your cheek off the surface and wincing at the sticky residue clinging to your skin. Why were you on the floor?

Your head pounded mercilessly, a dull ache that only grew worse as you sat up and tried to piece together what had happened the night before. Your phone buzzed on the table, and when you reached for it, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the black screen: mascara smudged, hair in complete disarray, and a faint red mark on your forehead where you must have hit something.

“Crap,” you muttered, staring at the time. You had twenty minutes to make it to your study session with Renjun!

Scrambling to your feet, you almost tripped over your own feet on your way to the bathroom. No matter how tight your schedule was, you must not skip taking a shower before going out today because you stink. So you stepped under the shower head, using cold water on purpose in hopes that the freezing water would jolt you into wakefulness. You scrubbed your face like it would erase the remnants of last night’s chaos.

What even was last night’s chaos?

Snippets of loud music, flashing lights, and Donghyuck’s smirk popped into your mind, but you shoved them aside. You could recall every bit of last night if you tried hard enough, but there was no time to dwell on your questionable life choices. You threw on a hoodie and jeans, grabbed your bag, and sprinted out the door, hair still damp and heart pounding.

When you reached the library, you were breathing hard, and the cold air made your headache even worse. The library was almost deserted. Pulling out your phone, you texted Renjun to let him know you’d made it, only for his reply to make you cringe.

Renjun: Love your enthusiasm, but aren’t you an hour too early? 😀

The realization came with shame: you were way too eager. There was no other way to spin it. You sat down at a random table, trying to blend into the background despite the fact that the library was far from crowded. You spent the next few minutes scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself from the embarrassment you were feeling inside.

Ten minutes later, Renjun walked in, his usual calm demeanor intact. When he spotted you, he smiled and quickened his pace. “Hi,” he greeted, setting his bag down across from you.

“Hi,” you greeted back, moving your bag out of the desk. “Aren’t we supposed to meet later?”

“Yeah, but you’re already here, so might as well,” he replied, shrugging. “This works better for me, actually, since I have errands later.”

“We could always reschedule, you know?” you suggested, though that was far from what you were feeling inside. “And did you rush here? You look out of breath.”

“Ah.” Renjun chuckled as he grabbed his water bottle and took a huge sip. “I didn’t want you to wait too long, so I rushed out,” he said after a drink.

His words caught you off guard. He looked so nonchalant about it, like it wasn’t a big deal, but the thought of him rushing because of you warmed your chest.

From that day on, Renjun always sat with you during your study sessions. It wasn’t something you planned, but it became an unspoken agreement between the two of you, a rhythm that settled into place without either of you needing to say a word.

Small gestures like him offering his pen when yours ran out of ink felt special, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise. It was just convenience, you told yourself, but the way his hand lingered a second too long or the faint smile he’d flash before going back to his notes made it impossible not to wonder.

He’d text you ahead of time if the library was packed, letting you know he’d saved you a seat or that you should just reschedule. You’d thank him, trying to sound casual, but your chest always felt lighter seeing his name light up your screen.

Over time, your study sessions became less about the textbooks and more about getting to know the little things that made Renjun… Renjun. He was a linguistics student who could explain the quirks of syntax or the history of a word with an enthusiasm that made you want to listen, even when you weren’t entirely interested. He liked sci-fi movies—ones with confusing plots and bizarre visuals—and he’d binge them whenever he wasn’t drowning in assignments.

You noticed he had a birthmark on the back of his hand—grayish with a hint of purple, like a bruise that never faded. The first time you commented on it, asking if he’d hurt himself, he chuckled and said, “It’s been there since I was a kid.”

Sometimes, when he was particularly focused, his brows would furrow and his lips would press into a pout that you found annoyingly endearing. You’d have to stop yourself from staring too long, afraid he’d catch you.

Renjun had this habit of quietly humming under his breath while writing notes. It was so soft you almost missed it, but once you noticed, you couldn’t unhear it. When you teased him about it one day, he laughed, embarrassed, but the sound of his laughter stuck with you long after the session ended.

It was in these in-between moments that you realized how much you looked forward to spending time with him—not just as a study buddy, but as someone who made the world feel a little less ordinary.

One afternoon, you caught him sketching in the margins of his notebook while you took notes. His pencil moved with a quiet confidence, tracing lines and curves that turned into an intricate little doodle.

“Is that what you do when you’re bored?” you asked, leaning over to get a better look.

Renjun quickly covered the drawing with his hand, chuckling nervously. “It’s nothing. Just a habit.”

You tilted your head, smiling. “A habit? You’re pretty good.”

He gave you a small smile but didn’t seem convinced by your words.

“I mean it,” you insisted, giving him a sincere look.

He hesitated before glancing down at his notebook. “Thanks,” he said softly, opening his notebook again. “Do you wanna see it?”

“Are you kidding me? Yes!” you giggled, leaning closer to take a look. “I love visual arts. It’s like something I wish I could do but since I don’t have the talent for it, I just settle with appreciating it.”

“Well, I don’t have the talent either. It’s just a hobby,” he replied while you were flipping through the pages of his notebook, admiring the small doodles on the margins.

“You’re too modest,” you chimed, impressed by the effortless beauty of his cute, almost cartoonish art. “I think you’re really good at this.”

Encouraged by your sincerity, he opened up a little. “I liked drawing as a kid. I used to think I’d pursue it as a career, but, you know, priorities. I have a vision of an ideal future which seemed difficult to achieve if I chose art.”

You frowned. “That’s kinda sad.”

He quickly shook his head, his tone light. “I don’t feel that way about it, though. It’s not like I’m completely banned from making art. I’m just putting it on hold for now.”

You watched him closely, noting the way his expression shifted between wistfulness and acceptance. The way he brushed it off so easily tugged at something in you. “Well,” you said after a moment, “for what it’s worth, I think you should keep doing it. Even if it’s just for yourself.”

Renjun looked at you, his lips quirking into a soft smile that lingered a little too long. “Thanks,” he said again, and this time, he sounded like he meant it.

“I think he likes you,” Karina said, sprawled across the couch, hugging a throw pillow with a dreamy grin on her face. “You’ve been spending so much time together lately. I wouldn’t be surprised if he asks you out soon.”

“Agreed,” Giselle added, flipping through a magazine that was clearly not as interesting as this topic. “He really should do it soon.”

You plopped down on the floor with a loud sigh, dramatically draping an arm over your eyes. “You think so?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Jaemin muttered from his spot on the carpet, tossing popcorn into the air and catching it with his mouth. “You’ve barely seen each other outside the library. For all you know, he’s just being nice.”

“Oh, come on,” you shot back, lifting your arm to squint at him. “You don’t see the way he looks at me with this little smile, like…” You mimicked an exaggerated dreamy face.

Karina giggled. “You’re so delusional. It’s cute, though.”

Giselle joined in. “Yeah, the way you’ve been acting lately is straight out of a high school drama. You, of all people, getting excited about study sessions? Who are you?”

“Hey, I’ve always been academically inclined!” you defended, sitting up.

Jaemin snorted. “Cramming at 3 a.m. doesn’t count as ‘academically inclined.’”

You threw a popcorn kernel at him, which he dodged with an annoyingly smug grin. “For your information,” you said, pointing at him with mock indignation, “I’ve been taking notes. Like, actual, color-coded, neat notes. With highlighters.”

“Oh no,” Giselle gasped, feigning horror. “The highlighters! It’s worse than we thought!”

“It’s called being responsible,” you huffed, crossing your arms with a proud smirk.

“It’s called being whipped,” Jaemin corrected, leaning back with a smirk. “You’re not fooling anyone. You’re basically studying because you’re hoping he’ll think you’re smart and fall for you.”

“First of all,” you said, holding up a finger, “Renjun already knows I’m smart.”

Jaemin snorted.

“Second of all,” you continued, ignoring him, “this newfound work ethic has nothing to do with him.”

“Right,” Giselle drawled, shooting Jaemin a look.

“Absolutely nothing,” you repeated with a grin, tossing popcorn into your own mouth.

“Guys, give her a break,” Karina chided softly, though she was grinning playfully too. “Isn’t it good that she’s motivated?”

Giselle snickered, giving you a mischievous side eye. “Anyone would be motivated if they’re being promised some di—”

You cut her off by shoving popcorn in her mouth. “I haven’t been promised anything.”

Giselle chewed her food quickly and started poking your sides. “You’re grinning so hard your face is gonna crack.”

You laughed, playfully swatting her hand away. “I just think it’s nice, okay? To have a study buddy who, like, actually cares if I pass my exams. Unlike some people.” You gave Jaemin a pointed look.

“Hey, I care,” he replied, holding up his hands defensively. “I just don’t think you should fool yourself into thinking it’s anything more than studying.”

Karina laughed. “Don’t listen to him. I think it’s sweet. It’s cute seeing you so motivated, even if it is…” she trailed off, glancing at Giselle.

“Dick-motivated,” she finished bluntly, popping another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

“You’re so gross,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes at her.

“Hey, I call it like I see it,” Giselle shrugged. 

“I will say this, though, if it’s making you study harder, maybe it’s not the worst thing. We’re freshmen, so you can still pave the way for yourself to graduate with flying colors,” Jaemin added, wiggling his eyebrows. “But you guys need to go out of that library first. Go to the quad for a change. Maybe get coffee together or something.”

“Jaemin,” you said, resting your chin on your hand with an exaggerated pout, “why would I need coffee when Renjun already gives me a caffeine rush by just existing?”

Giselle cackled. “Oh my god, you’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love,” you declared dramatically, flopping back onto the floor with a hand over your heart.

Karina shook her head, laughing. “You’re so embarrassing.”

“You love me anyway.”

Jaemin groaned. “No, seriously. Stop living in your fantasy world and ask him to hang out. Outside. Of. The. Library.”

You peeked up at him with a mischievous grin. “But what if he’s waiting for the perfect moment to confess? What if he’s just as nervous as I am?”

“Then you’re both pathetic,” Giselle deadpanned, though her lips twitched like she was holding back a laugh.

“Don’t worry,” you said with mock seriousness. “When we finally get together, I’ll make sure to invite you to the wedding.”

Giselle and Jaemin groaned again, this time louder. “You’re insufferable when you’re like this,” Jaemin complained.

You just laughed, the giddy, teenage-like crush bubbling over until it spilled out of you in the form of exaggerated dramatics. Maybe your friends were right, and you should try to take things further, but for now, you were perfectly content basking in the joy of it all—even if your friends never let you live it down.

However, it seemed like your friends weren’t the only ones bothered about the slow development in your relationship with Renjun. The universe too, knew that it was time for you to leave the safe confines of the campus library. 

It happened on a late Sunday afternoon. You walked into a café, expecting nothing more than a quiet moment with your usual overpriced latte. But then you spotted him—Renjun. He wore a soft expression that caught the golden light streaming through the window, his face almost glowing as he leaned over a notebook. He was sitting alone with a half-empty cup of coffee by his side, his pencil moving in quick, deliberate strokes.

You knew, logically, that Renjun didn’t spend every waking moment in the library. He had a life outside of it, of course. But seeing him in a place without the endless shelves of books and the soothing silence of the library around felt a little weird, in a good way. There was something oddly intimate about it, like you’d stumbled into a part of his life you had never seen before—and in a way, it really was something you hadn’t seen before. 

You were still rooted to the spot, trying to decide whether to turn around and flee or walk over and say hi, when Renjun glanced up—and noticed you. His eyes widened slightly in surprise before his face broke into a small, easy smile. He lifted a hand in a casual wave, gesturing for you to come over.

Well, so much for running away, you thought to yourself as you waved back. You walked over, trying your best to seem like you weren’t overthinking every step. 

“Hey,” he greeted, his smile widening as he closed his notebook and pushed it aside. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You too,” you replied, hoping your voice sounded light and not as jittery as you felt. You glanced around, pretending to take in the café like it wasn’t the hundredth time you’d been there. “I was just gonna grab some coffee but I didn’t expect to run into you here. No offense but I thought your all-time favorite place is the library.”

Renjun chuckled. “Not really. I like coming here when the library gets too quiet.”

You nodded, though his words sent your mind spiraling. He’d been here all this time, escaping the quiet of the library, while you’d been basking in it, thinking it was your shared haven.

“I see, so you come here often?” you asked, cringing internally at how cliché you sounded.

Renjun nodded. “Not as often as I’d like. I get caught up in schoolwork most of the time. But when I do, this is my go-to spot.”

“Cool,” you replied, though you felt anything but. Your mind was screaming at you to think of something interesting to say but all you could do was nod.

“Do you want to join me?” he asked, gesturing to the chair across from him.

The question caught you off guard, and for a second, you just stared at him like he’d asked you to solve an equation without a calculator—and you sucked at Math!

“Yeah, sure,” you said finally, sliding into the seat. As you settled in, the reality of the situation hit you—this was your chance! No library distractions, no pretense of study sessions. Just you and Renjun, in a cozy café, with nothing but time and the faint buzz of espresso machines between you. And suddenly, your usual crush-induced dramatics didn’t seem so silly anymore.

Renjun had this ability to make the simplest moments feel meaningful. Like when he offered to buy you coffee, even remembering your favorite drink—something you’d mentioned in passing weeks ago. You couldn’t help but wonder if he paid this much attention to everyone or if you were, somehow, different—special, in a way. Maybe you were delusional. Maybe he was just polite. But maybe, just maybe, he actually cared.

The two of you talked about random things as the café buzzed quietly around you—favorite movies, weird study habits, how caffeine was both a blessing and a curse. Renjun listened intently, and just when you thought the conversation might drift into silence, he asked, “Why did you choose your major?”

The question caught you off guard, not because it was invasive but because of how thoughtful it was. It wasn’t something you expected to be asked over coffee. You paused, giving yourself a moment to consider your answer.

“I guess I just fell into it,” you admitted, twirling your straw. “It felt like the safe choice, you know? Like something I couldn’t go wrong with. But sometimes, I wonder if I should’ve picked something else. Something I’m actually passionate about.”

Renjun tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “What would that be? If you could choose anything?”

You hesitated, surprised by his genuine interest. “I don’t know. I’m not really passionate about something in particular.”

“Well, you are interested in something though, right?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.

You shrugged, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. “I’m interested in a lot of things, just not interested enough to pursue them.”

“Any hobbies?” he asked again, looking genuinely curious. “They said what you do in your free time says a lot about what you’re passionate about. Sometimes you don’t even realize it.”

“I don’t know if the things I do in my free time are considered hobbies.”

“That’s the general description of hobbies, isn’t it?” He chuckled lightly. “Things you do in your free time?”

You smiled sheepishly. “I know. I do have hobbies and I tried looking at them to see which one would be interesting enough to pursue. Couldn’t decide on one. Everything just seems so generic.”

Renjun’s lips quirked into a small smile, and he nodded like he understood. “I think a lot of people feel that way about the things they love. But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you simply smiled back, warmth blooming in your chest.

When you mentioned that you were on your way to the library to catch up on assignments, Renjun said he’d join you since he had nothing else to do. Your heart flipped at his casual offer, though your mind immediately began spiraling. Did he actually want to spend more time with you, or was it just convenient?

The evening passed in quiet companionship at the library. While you worked on your assignments, Renjun sketched in his notebook, the sound of his pencil scratching faintly against the paper. You stole glances at him, unable to help yourself. There was something peaceful about the way he was so focused, his  hair falling into his eyes as he worked. At some point, you asked to discuss your assignment with him, hoping to get his opinions on your stance.

When it was time to leave, Renjun offered to walk you home. The offer sent your mind reeling again, but before you could respond, Jaemin showed up, his usual smirk firmly in place. “You guys going somewhere?” he drawled, the mischief in his eyes impossible to miss.

You blinked, barely processing his words, because all you could feel was a faint irritation bubbling up. Of course, Jaemin had to show up now, of all times. You trudged toward him with your brows furrowed. And in a low voice, you scolded him. “What are you doing here? You’re ruining my moment!”

“Karina sent me,” he explained, also lowering his voice. He looked irritated too. “She’s going cuckoo. Said you weren’t picking up your phone and it’s past ten o’clock now.”

You stole a glance at Renjun, who was watching the interaction quietly, his expression curious but unreadable. You cleared your throat. “This is Jaemin,” you said reluctantly, gesturing toward him. “He’s a friend.”

“Best friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids,” Jaemin corrected.

You elbowed him in the rib, making him wince in pain. “Teenagers. We’ve known each other since we were teenagers. He’s my mom’s friend’s son.”

Renjun’s gaze shifted to you briefly, as if silently asking for more context. The slight crease in his brow made your stomach flutter, and you felt the need to elaborate. “My roommate Karina made him come check on me.”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And you must be Huang Renjun. I’ve heard so much about you,” he said, offering his hand for a shake.

Renjun took it. “You have?” he asked, his tone polite but clearly surprised.

“Yeah. She’s been talking about—ow!” Before Jaemin could finish, you elbowed him again.

“Thanks for today,” you chimed, smiling brightly at Renjun in an attempt to steer the conversation back to normalcy. “For, you know, the coffee and the help with my assignment.”

Renjun turned to you with an easy smile. “Anytime. Hopefully, I didn’t distract you from it too much.”

“Absolutely not,” you replied, shaking your head.

“That’s good then,” he said with a small nod. “I guess I’ll leave you to it. See you next time?”

The words were casual, but they echoed beautifully in your ears. See you next time? Did he mean that? Like, does he actually want to see you again? Or was it something polite people like him would say? You started overanalyzing right then and there, picking apart his tone, his word choice, the little upward curve of his lips when he said it.

“Yeah. See you next time,” you replied, waving a hand as he gave both of you one last look before exiting the double doors.

Your eyes followed him as he walked away, his silhouette framed by the glow of the library’s lights. It was like your crush had decided to script this scene for maximum drama. You wondered if he’d think about this moment later. Would he replay it in his head the way you would? Probably not.

As soon as the door closed behind Renjun, Jaemin leaned in, pulling you out of your musings. “You’re smiling like a total lovesick fool right now,” he sniggered. “It’s almost painful to watch. Almost.”

Your smile vanished as you shot him a glare, though your cheeks burned. “You’re literally the worst.”

“Maybe. But I’m also the reason Karina’s not hunting you down with a broom, so, you’re welcome.”

You rolled your eyes and started walking toward the exit, Jaemin falling into step beside you. Still, as much as you wanted to be annoyed, your thoughts kept drifting back to Renjun’s soft smile and the way he’d said, See you next time.

Karina and Giselle were at the apartment when you got back. Before Karina could preach about your agreement to let each other know if one of you would come home late, you told them about Renjun and the teasing started immediately. 

“Did he say anything?” Giselle asked, practically bouncing with excitement.

You groaned, dropping onto the couch dramatically. “No, he didn’t say anything. But he wanted to walk me home, kind of.”

“Kind of?” Karina repeated with a laugh.

“He offered, but Jaemin showed up, so it didn’t really count,” you admitted.

“Well, at least he offered,” Giselle pointed out.

“Exactly,” Giselle said. “That’s practically a confession of love in boy language. Men are simple like that.”

“Hey!” Jaemin protested but no one paid any attention.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at the thought. Maybe they were exaggerating. Or maybe you were just hopelessly, blissfully delusional. Either way, you didn’t mind.

The smell of food greeted you as soon as you stepped out of your bedroom, and your stomach rumbled in approval. Following the aroma, you found Jaemin in the kitchen, busily moving around with your hot pink apron tied over his t-shirt.

“Guys, it’s my favorite person in the whole wide world!” you announced dramatically, taking a seat and marveling at the spread of dishes already on the table.

“Stop lying and eat,” Jaemin scolded, his tone sharp but his eyes amused. He carefully set a steaming clay pot in the center of the table, the savory aroma filling the room.

“Na Jaemin, you’re cooking up a feast!” Giselle exclaimed, appearing in the doorway and eyeing the food hungrily. “What’s the occasion?”

Karina came in last, casually pulling her hair into a bun. “I asked him to cook for us because everything in the fridge was about to go bad.”

“Really?” you asked, your spoonful of fried rice hovering mid-air. “All of it?” Without waiting for an answer, you stuffed the spoon into your mouth, letting out a satisfied hum at the flavor.

“Nearly all of it,” Karina confirmed as she sat down next to Giselle. “We haven’t been cooking much lately. The groceries have been untouched for over a week now.”

“Why do we even bother to buy groceries when all we do is order takeout,” Giselle asked, shrugging.

“Hey, don’t say that. We eat home cooked meals sometimes,” you chided, pouting because you were the cook in the house. “Although, I’ll have to admit, I haven’t been cooking much lately.”

“Good thing you have me,” Jaemin said smugly, wiping his hands on the apron. “Everybody say ‘Thank you, Jaemin.’”

“Thank you, Jaemin,” all three of you obliged.

As everyone dug in, Jaemin leaned back, watching you all enjoy the food with a satisfied expression. The sound of clinking utensils and satisfied hums filled the room, and for a moment, you thought this was just another one of Jaemin’s regular ‘save the kitchen’ moments. But then Jaemin reached into his backpack, slung over the back of a chair, and pulled out a small stack of flyers. 

“Speaking of appreciating my genius,” he began, sliding one to each of you, “the fine arts department is hosting an exhibit this weekend. Photography, paintings, sketches—you name it. You guys should come.”

You glanced down at the flyer. The bold text read ‘Life Imitates Art: NCIT Student Art Exhibit’ accompanied by an artsy photo of a painted skyline.

“Oh, this looks cool!” Giselle said, holding up her flyer.

“Of course it does. My department made it,” Jaemin replied smugly. “And, I know someone who loves art and would definitely appreciate this.”

“Who could it be?” Karina muttered, smiling as she glanced at you.

You rolled your eyes at Jaemin’s theatrics, but you couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in your chest. Art exhibits were totally your thing, and Jaemin knew it. However, the moment you looked back at the flyer, your thoughts drifted to a certain someone.

Would Renjun enjoy something like this? You remembered how he’d once shown you his drawings, shyly flipping through margins of his notebook filled with sketches and doodles of nature, cartoons, and people.  The idea of walking through the gallery with him, admiring the art and sharing thoughts, made your heart skip a beat.

“Will our photos be there?” Giselle asked, pulling you back to reality. “You’ve taken enough pictures of us to fill a gallery.”

Jaemin snickered. “Nope. Freshmen aren’t allowed to participate.”

“What?” the three of you exclaimed in unison, outraged.

“Unfair,” Giselle muttered. “You’re better than half the juniors I know.”

“Exactly!” Karina added, frowning. “Who decided that rule anyway?”

Jaemin shrugged, unbothered. “Rules are rules. Besides, you think I want to deal with more critiques from professors? Hard pass.”

“That’s so lame,” you chimed in, frowning as well. “Your pictures of us deserve to be up there.”

“Flattery won’t change anything,” Jaemin replied with a grin. “But you will come to the exhibit, right?”

“Of course,” Karina answered immediately.

“Definitely,” Giselle said, nudging you. “Right?”

“Obviously,” you replied with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Do we have to RSVP, or can we just show up?” Karina asked.

“Just show up. But get there early—it’ll be packed,” Jaemin said. Then he turned to you specifically, raising an eyebrow. “And don’t flake.”

“Who, me?” you said, feigning innocence. “I’d never miss a chance to see what the fine arts department cooked up. You know that.”

The conversation continued with Jaemin fielding questions about the exhibit, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how to casually bring it up with Renjun. Would it be weird to invite him? Would he even want to come?

By the time dinner was over, your mind was already racing with possible scenarios. One thing was clear: you needed to find a way to mention the exhibit to Renjun without sounding like you were asking him on a date. Even though that’s exactly what you were hoping for.

Three days later, you wondered how you managed to invite Renjun to the exhibit without fumbling over your words too much. The memory of your awkward phrasing made you cringe slightly every time it replayed in your head, but here you were—standing next to him in the middle of the gallery, surrounded by art.

He seemed genuinely interested in the pieces, his eyes darting from one frame to another with a quiet intensity. Every now and then, he’d point something out—a brushstroke technique in a painting or the composition of a photograph—and you’d nod along, pretending you weren’t hyper-focused on the way his lips curved as he spoke. 

Normally, you’d be more proactive than this. You could talk about art and techniques for days. But at the time, you were more focused on spending the time with him that you could only listen to his thoughts. You offered some of your own comments, but not as much as you would when it was someone else there with you.

The exhibit didn’t lead to anything romantic, as you’d half-hoped. There were no magical moments, no grand gestures, no accidentally brushing hands that sent sparks flying. But somehow, that was okay. You were content just being there with him.

Dinner was a grander affair than the exhibit, to you, at least. It wasn’t anything fancy—just fast food at a brightly lit diner. You sat across from each other, unwrapping burgers and sipping on sodas, talking about this and that.

As you both ate, the conversation drifted to lighter topics—how the exhibit had surprised you both with its variety, how one of the paintings reminded him of a place he’d visited as a kid, and the sheer horror of seeing the price tags on some of the pieces.

“Five thousand dollars for that?” he exclaimed, gesturing vaguely as if the painting were still in front of him.

“Art is subjective,” you replied with a shrug.

Renjun shook his head, biting into a fry. “Subjective or not, I think my two-year-old cousin could’ve done that with finger paints.”

You laughed, nearly choking on your drink. “Okay, now you’re just being mean. But honestly, same.”

After a pause, he leaned forward slightly. “Do you like art? Like genuinely?”

You nodded, pushing your tray aside. “Yeah. I mean, I’m not an expert or anything, but I like looking at it. It’s relaxing, and sometimes it makes you think about stuff in a different way.”

“I see. Art can make people feel feelings.”

“What about you?” you asked, tilting your head cutely. “Do you just doodle on your notebooks or do you, like, genuinely want to pursue it?”

“I like sketching, but I’m more into digital arts,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “Like I said, it’s more of a hobby. I don’t think I’m good enough to call myself an artist or anything.”

“You do digital arts?” you asked, leaning forward with genuine interest. “That’s so cool! I thought you just sketch on the margins because you want your hands to not stop moving.”

Renjun chuckled heartily, looking a little sheepish. “I do like art a lot. And yeah, maybe I doodle on my notes because I don’t know what to do with my hands sometimes.”

“Can I see them?” you said firmly, leaning closer.

He blinked, surprised. “What?”

“Your digital arts. Can I see them?” you asked and Renjun shrugged. “Only if you wanna show them, of course.”

“Maybe,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “If I ever think they’re worth showing.”

The conversation shifted naturally from there. You learned that Renjun liked savory food more than sweets, that he loved sci-fi movies and old-school animation, and that his favorite season was summer because it was warmer.

In return, you told him about your favorite books and the time you’d tried to paint but ended up with more paint on yourself than the canvas.

Renjun’s laugh came easily, and you found yourself wanting to hear it more. “Sounds like you’d be a hit at one of those paint-and-sip nights.”

“Only if the wine is good,” you replied, grinning.

At one point, he pointed at your tray. “You’re not going to finish that?”

You glanced at the fries you’d left untouched. “No, I’m stuffed. Why? You want them?”

“Waste not, want not,” he said, sliding the tray toward himself.

“Do you even like cold fries?”

“Food is food,” he replied simply, popping one into his mouth.

It was such a small thing, but the casual ease of the moment made your heart warm. You wanted to believe this connection, this closeness, was something meaningful—something real.

But doubt crept in, uninvited and persistent. Was this really going anywhere? Renjun was affecting you more than you’d expected—your mood, your energy, even your plans. You were falling so fast, yet he hadn’t even shown you anything to suggest he was on the same page. Every small gesture, every laugh, every lingering glance—you found yourself dissecting them, overthinking, convincing yourself they meant something when they might not.

Would you be okay if the spark you felt wasn’t mutual?

When dinner was over, the two of you stepped outside, only to find it raining. The kind of rain that drenched you in seconds if you stepped out without an umbrella. You both stood under the awning of the restaurant, staring out into the drizzle. The air was cold, and small splashes of water reached your feet, soaking through your shoes.

Renjun stood beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him even in the chilly air. Despite the miserable weather, you didn’t feel annoyed. If anything, the rain seemed to add a certain weight to the moment—a quiet intimacy that made your heart ache in a good way.

You wondered what he was thinking. Was he just as hyper-aware of the proximity between you as you were? Did he feel the way your shoulders nearly brushed every time one of you shifted your weight?

“I didn’t check the forecast,” he murmured, his voice cutting through the rhythmic sound of raindrops hitting the ground. “Guess we’re stuck here for a while.”

You nodded, your hands buried in your pockets. “Yeah. Bummer.”

It was a half-hearted reply, and you hoped he didn’t notice how your voice trembled, not from the cold but from the nervous energy bubbling in your chest.

“What should we do now?” he asked after a moment, turning slightly to look at you.

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to say anything coherent. “No idea,” you mumbled, keeping your gaze firmly on the rain.

Then, without warning, you felt his hands on your shoulders. The touch was light but firm enough to make your heart leap. Before you could even process it, Renjun had pulled you closer, draping his jacket over both your heads.

“Alright,” he said, his tone suddenly full of determination. “We’re making a run for it.”

“What?!” You looked up at him, wide-eyed, half-hidden under the shared shelter of his jacket.

“It’s just rain,” he said with a grin that sent your stomach into a flurry of butterflies. “If we don’t do this, we’ll be stuck here all night.”

You hesitated for a split second, but his enthusiasm was contagious. “Fine,” you relented, unable to suppress a small laugh.

“That’s the spirit,” he said, his smile widening. “Ready?”

“Not really,” you admitted, but before you could overthink it, Renjun tightened his hold on you, and the two of you darted out into the rain.

The world seemed to blur as you ran, your laughter mingling with his as water splashed up around your feet. The jacket did little to shield you, and soon, droplets of rain were sliding down your cheeks and soaking through your clothes. But you didn’t care—not when Renjun was pulling you along, his own laugh ringing like music in your ears.

When you finally reached the bus shed, you stumbled to a halt, breathless and soaked but grinning from ear to ear. Renjun let out a relieved sigh, shaking his wet hair like a puppy, which only made you laugh harder.

“We made it!” he announced, his voice tinged with mock heroics.

“Barely,” you shot back, pushing your damp hair out of your face. “I didn’t know you were the type to do something like that. You’re insane.”

“Insane or genius?” he countered, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the metal pole of the shed.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. The rain continued to pour, the sound of it hitting the roof above you creating a soothing rhythm. You both stood there, catching your breath, the moment stretching into something quiet and tender.

“Thank you for today,” Renjun looked at you, his expression softening. “I’m really glad we did this.”

The way he said it made your heart flutter, but before you could dwell on it too long, he added with a teasing grin, “Even if I had to brave the rain for it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Totally worth it, though.”

“Totally,” he agreed, his gaze lingering on you just a little too long.

For a moment, you thought he might say something else—or that you might—but the sound of car horns broke through your silence, and you both turned to watch the busy streets. The road in front of you was alive with motion—cars speeding past, their headlights streaking through the rain-soaked night. Most of the taxis that passed were already occupied, and when Renjun checked the bus schedule on his phone, he sighed. 

“Caught in traffic,” he said, showing you the GPS map with the slow-moving icon of your bus.

“I figured,” you replied, leaning against the metal pole of the waiting shed. But oddly enough, you didn’t mind. Despite being drenched and stranded, you were having fun.

“Well,” he said, giving the jacket a rueful look before glancing at you, “I’d offer you this, but it’s basically a sponge at this point.”

You shook your head, smiling. “It’s fine. We’re already wet. What difference would it make?”

He shrugged, tucking the useless jacket under his arm. “Fair enough.”

The two of you spent the next few minutes chatting about anything and everything—jokes about how your shoes squelched when you moved, your terrible luck with rain, and a particularly embarrassing story Renjun shared about slipping on wet pavement once.

Then your gaze wandered to the poster on the wall of the waiting shed. It was an advertisement for some soft drink, with bright colors and cheerful models smiling down at you. Or at least, they had been cheerful—someone had scribbled on their faces with marker, adding mustaches and angry eyebrows.

You tilted your head, amused. “What are your thoughts on this piece?” you asked, the same way you’d asked him about the artworks in the gallery earlier that day.

Renjun followed your gaze and chuckled. Then he put on a serious face, as if he was seriously thinking about it. “It’s tasteful, yes. Based on the lines, I think the artist made this on the spot. A spontaneous piece. Overall, it’s top-tier art.”

You tilted your head at the poster, humming in disagreement. “I think it’s mid-tier at most.”

“Think you could do better?” he challenged.

“I’m not much of an artist.”

“Well, how about this?” he said, pulling a pen out of his pocket with a mischievous grin.

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s that for?”

“To write,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Vandalism?”

He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “They’re probably gonna change those posters soon anyway. Might as well leave our mark.”

You grinned, loving the gleam of mischief in his eyes that was too tempting to resist. “Alright,” you said, taking the pen from his hand.

You leaned toward the poster, careful not to smudge it too much with your damp sleeve, and drew the best fox drawing you could make, unsuccessfully, but you were content with it. Then you wrote in large, messy letters: CUTE LITTLE FOX, INJUN.

“That’s a fox?” Renjun asked, surprised. You nodded with a grin. “Looks more like a wet squirrel.”

“That’s fine. Art is subjective,” you scoffed, handing him the pen. “Your turn.”

He shook his head, laughing. Beneath your writing, he drew a cartoon girl who resembled you, and added: YOU’RE MUCH CUTER THAN THE FOX ^_^

The two of you stepped back to admire your masterpiece, grinning like a couple of kids who’d just gotten away with a prank. “Think it’ll make someone’s day?” you asked.

“Either that or they’ll roll their eyes and wonder what middle schoolers did this,” Renjun replied, pocketing the pen.

When the bus finally pulled up, its headlights cutting through the rain, you both boarded, still laughing. As you climbed the steps, you turned back for a moment and snapped a quick picture of your vandalism.

Renjun noticed and leaned closer to take a look at your screen. “What’s that for?”

“Evidence,” you said with a smirk. “Just in case the poster police comes after us.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile as the two of you found seats near the back of the bus, the sound of rain and the hum of the engine accompanying your ride home.

That weekend, while your friends were out doing their own thing, you were in your bedroom, grinning at your phone. You spent the morning scrolling through the pictures you took with Renjun the day before—zooming into his face and admiring the features you’d grown so fond of in the last few weeks. The picture you took of the graffiti was posted in your stories, and you kept checking who’d seen it, hoping one of them would be Renjun himself.

You wished there was an excuse to go out and meet him, but there wasn’t any. Even if there was a valid excuse, you probably wouldn’t act on it because you were worried about being too obvious. Besides, anything you say to invite him outside would only seem like an eager attempt to see him. So you opted to wait till the next time you can hang out with him.

“It’s still Saturday morning?” you grumbled upon seeing the date and time on your phone. “Has the weekend always been this slow?”

As soon as Monday rolled in, you went to your classes with a bounce in your step, listening intently to the lectures and hoping time passed faster. When it was all over, you skipped to the library knowing Renjun would already be there.

And so it continued. The library was your sanctuary as usual, but after a few more days of hunching over the same cramped desks and flickering fluorescents, you suggested a change of scenery. Renjun wasn’t keen on the idea at first, but you managed to convince him to see the appeal of the wide open space and the green grass of the quad just outside the library.

You would spread a small blanket on the grass, and sprawl there with your books or laptops. There were times when your friends would join you but when they did, you’d spend the time chatting instead of studying, so you limited their participation.

Other times, you opted for the cozy cafe outside the campus,  books spread across the table. That space was more intimate and somehow, private. You would read through notes and discuss theories over coffee and dessert. Sometimes, you’d just be talking about random things.

At a glance, it would seem like you spend every day with him without fail, but that wasn’t the case. You studied together once every two days, for only two to three hours max. But it was enough time to fall harder for Renjun. When you weren’t together, you’d be thinking of him. And when he was right before your eyes, your thoughts would still be filled with him. When you were out doing things you usually did with your friends, you wondered who he was hanging out with, or what he did when he wasn’t buried in books.

One day, Renjun suggested a detour after your study session. “There’s this little bookshop near campus,” he said. “It’s got a good vibe. You’ll like it.”

You followed him through winding streets until you reached a hole-in-the-wall shop with dusty windows and a bell that jingled as you entered. The air smelled like old paper and candles. Renjun drifted toward the art section, his fingers skimming the spines of books.

“Here,” he said, pulling one out and handing it to you. “This one’s good.”

You looked at the title, a collection of essays on creativity. A smile tugged at your lips as you were reminded of the time Renjun complimented a creative essay you once showed him. “Are you trying to inspire me?”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “The piece you showed me last time was really good. You need to write more of those.”

You hummed, looking around the shop. Your eyes stopped at a shelf of vintage sketchbooks and canvasses. “Well, in that case, you should sketch more,” you told him, beaming as you led him toward said shelf so you could pick one.

Later, back at your apartment, you flipped through the book, pausing on a passage about capturing fleeting moments. You thought of Renjun—his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the quiet intensity when he was focused on his work. Your chest tightened with both affection and frustration. Just how much longer could you go on without telling him how you felt?

As long as you could, it seemed. The days passed, and the feelings only grew stronger, but Renjun remained blissfully unaware. Sometimes you wondered if he truly didn’t know, or if he was just pretending not to. You’d catch little moments—a smile, a glance—but you dismissed them. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe you were imagining it all.

You couldn’t bring yourself to make the first move. You were too shy, too scared of risking everything, too afraid that the warmth you thought you saw in his eyes was nothing more than your imagination. If you never confessed, you could never be rejected. And so, you kept quiet. It was easier this way. But even in the silence, you couldn’t stop wondering if he ever thought about you the same way.

And so it goes.

One day, you sprawled out on a blanket beneath the oak tree in the quad. Karina joined you, which was fine because she wasn’t as noisy as Giselle or Jaemin. Renjun was supposed to be studying, but he was sketching in his notebook instead, the soft scratch of pencil against paper the only sound you could hear from him.

You tried to focus on your notes, but your eyes kept drifting to him—how his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips pressed together in that adorable way that made your chest tighten. His focus was so intense, so effortless, and it made you wonder if he even knew how attractive it was.

“What are you drawing?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Just something,” Renjun replied, turning the sketchpad slightly toward you. “It’s not finished.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” you said, genuinely impressed by the details of his art. You glanced up at the oak tree, which was clearly the reference for his sketch. “How old do you think this tree is?”

Karina looked up from her tablet, following your gaze. “Probably a few decades old.”

“Seventy-three,” Renjun said, his eyes still on the tree. “They said it was planted by the founder of this school. It’s been here since.”

You smiled, looking back at the tree with new eyes. “Is that why it’s in such a weird spot on the school grounds? I always thought it looked out of place.”

“Hi, Jun!” she said, pulling your attention away. She was pretty, with an effortless kind of grace that immediately made you wonder who she was.

“Hi, Lia,” Renjun greeted back with a smile, and you couldn’t help but measure how much of a smile it was. Was it just friendly, or was there something more?

“Is that a sketchbook?” she asked, leaning down to peek over his shoulder.

“Uh, yeah,” Renjun said, closing it quickly, though not before she caught a glimpse of the pages.

“Wow,” she said, her smile widening. “You’re so talented. I didn’t know you could draw.”

Renjun laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “I can, though I’m not that good at it.”

You felt your jaw clench as she lingered, her gaze fixed on him. It wasn’t subtle—how she twirled her hair, leaned just a little too close, like she was trying to get his attention in the most obvious way. But Renjun seemed oblivious, like it was all just normal.

Beside you, Karina tugged at your sleeve. When you exchanged looks, you saw the same confusion in her eyes.

“Who’s that?” she mouthed, and you could only shrug, your stomach tightening with an unfamiliar knot.

After she left, you tried to play it cool, but Renjun noticed the shift in your mood. “Everything okay?” he asked, tilting his head in that endearing way.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile that felt like a mask. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

It was hard to ignore the knot of frustration that settled in your stomach—jealousy, confusion, possessiveness. The way Lia had leaned in just a little too close, the way she smiled at him like she knew something you didn’t—it made your heart twist. You weren’t oblivious to it. She was clearly a competition. And you hated how much that thought stung.

But then, you reminded yourself: you were in no position to feel frustrated or jealous. You couldn’t expect him to cater to your feelings when you hadn’t done anything to express them. And even if he did know, he didn’t owe you anything. Just because you had feelings for him didn’t mean he was obligated to cater to whatever unspoken expectations you’d built in your head.

And so it goes. You stayed quiet, enjoying his company and hoping he’d one day confirm that he too had feelings for you. That all this time, he’d been keeping it to himself worried that it might ruin your friendship.

“Worried about your hair?” Renjun teased one day, while you were standing outside the cafe under the dull gray sky. It has started drizzling and you were wondering if you could make a run for it.

“No,” you shot back, laughing. “Are you worried about yours?”

“No, but just in case…” He reached into his bag and pulled out a bright yellow umbrella with cartoon characters. “I brought an umbrella.”

You stared at it, then at him. “Did you steal that from your little cousin or something?”

“It’s mine, actually,” he corrected nonchalantly. “I got it yesterday.”

“You’re walking around campus with that?” you snickered.

“Hey, Moomin is cool,” he said, unfazed. He popped the umbrella open. “And it’s functional.”

You giggled. “I’m just teasing you. I think it’s very cute.”

Renjun gave you a deadpan stare. “Ha-ha. Thanks,” he said sarcastically.

The two of you huddled under the umbrella, the sound of rain pattering against it. The closeness made your heart race, and you were hyper-aware of the way his shoulder brushed yours as you walked side by side. By the time you reached the library, your cheeks felt warm despite the chill of the rain.

Inside, you settled at a desk by the window. Renjun started sketching again, and you observed him quietly, wondering how much longer you could keep your feelings bottled up. You didn’t know how much longer you could stand being this close to him and not telling him everything.

You busied yourself with an assignment, racking your brain and going through your notes to come up with the best output. Anything to distract yourself from Renjun. And it worked for a while, until the appearance of a certain someone made it impossible to focus on anything at all.

“Renjun,” Lia said, appearing beside your desk with a hand on his shoulder. “Do you have a minute?”

“What’s up?” Renjun asked, setting his pencil down.

“There’s something I want to tell you.”

“Sure. What is it?”

Lia glanced at you with a glint of embarrassment in her eyes. “Can we talk there?”

“Alright.” Renjun nodded, rising to his feet. He gave you a small smile and a nod before following Lia.

You stayed at the table, your fingers fidgeting with the corner of your notebook. You tried to focus on the notes spread across the table, but your eyes kept darting toward the direction Renjun and Lia had gone. What could they possibly be talking about? A prickle of curiosity crept under your skin, impossible to ignore. The logical part of you insisted it was none of your business. But another part—a louder, restless part—was dying to know.

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the notebook, and your knee was bouncing uncontrollably under the table. You glanced out at the rain, trying to convince yourself to stay put, to respect their privacy, but your thoughts were spinning out of control. What if she was confessing? What if he said yes?

You shook your head, banishing the thought. You didn’t even know what they were talking about. For all you knew, it could be about something entirely irrelevant to confessions and feelings. Still, your chest tightened at the idea of them sharing something you weren’t a part of. Once again, you tried to focus on your work, but your resolve crumbled with each passing second.

“Fuck this,” you muttered, and before you knew it, your legs were moving, carrying you toward the shelves where they had disappeared. Your heart thudded in your ears as you peeked around the corner. There they were, standing by the window, their voices low.

“I hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us,” Renjun said, his tone warm. “You’re an amazing friend, and I’d hate to lose that.”

“No, not at all,” Lia assured him. “I actually just wanted to get that off my chest. Thanks for being honest.”

You covered your mouth, stopping the gasp that almost escaped your lips. You were right after all. Lia was confessing her feelings for Renjun!

They continued chatting briefly, their tones light and unstrained. You couldn’t hear everything they said, but it was clear there was no animosity. Lia seemed to take it well, laughing softly at something Renjun said before they started walking back.

Panicking, you quickly ducked behind another shelf, snatching a random book. When they passed by, you waited a few more moments before returning to the table. You then sat down across from Renjun, and when he noticed you, he gave you that easy smile that always made your chest flutter.

“Where were you?” he asked, one hand flipping a page in his sketchpad.

“I just grabbed something from there,” you lied, showing him the book you took from the shelf. “Are you done talking?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

Nice, you thought to yourself, smiling. I think I’m good too.

By the time the rain had stopped, you were done with your assignment and Renjun had packed his sketchpad away. These days, he had been drawing a lot, and it made you giddy each time you saw him take out the vintage sketchbook you got for him. Sometimes, you liked to think he was properly practicing his art because of you, but that was just something you told yourself. He didn’t really say or do anything to back it up.

As you glanced out the window, sunlight began to peek through the rain clouds, and you gestured toward it. “Looks like the weather is getting better. Should we head out?”

“Sure,” Renjun said, tucking his pencil into his bag. “We’ve been here long enough.”

The two of you walked side by side, the damp air cool against your skin. Renjun tugged on the sling of his bag, his gaze distant, as though he had something on his mind. You didn’t press him, though you were wondering what was bothering him. It was unusual to see him so conflicted—Renjun, who was always so calm and composed.

You let the silence stretch, looking around the campus grounds. There was nothing you could think of saying, and it didn’t seem like Renjun was in the headspace to talk about anything either. But then he let out a deep sigh, making you glance at him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, peeking at his face.

“Nothing, just…” he trailed off, his voice low with a hint of uncertainty. “Have you ever had a friend confess their feelings for you?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, maybe? I mean, I think most of the people who confessed to me were my friends at first.”

In your mind, you were wondering if he was asking because of his conversation with Lia earlier.

His lips quirked in a faint smile, though his eyes stayed distant. “Yeah, I figured. It’s just... earlier, Lia said she liked me. Romantically.”

You knew that already. “Okay. What happened?”

“Apparently, she felt that we had a really good connection. She enjoyed hanging out with me and started liking me because I was nice and all that.”

You hummed, urging him to continue.

“It got me thinking, I should probably draw lines with friendship. As flattering as it was to be ‘liked’, I don’t really want to keep unintentionally leading people on,” he continued, tugging your jacket sleeves gently to veer you away from a puddle.

“That’s fine. You can do that,” you told him, your eyes lingering on his hand on your jacket. “But it’s not your fault if people get the wrong idea. There’s nothing wrong with you or your personality. That’s just how you are as a person.”

“You think so?”

You glanced up at him. “Yeah. But I do understand Lia though. It happens to some. Sometimes people catch feelings, even if they know they shouldn’t,” you chuckled, hoping Renjun wouldn’t notice you were literally talking about yourself.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, shrugging. “I wasn’t trying to make her like me like that. I’ve spent way more time with you than with her, but you don’t feel that way for me.”

You froze mid-step, your breath catching in your throat as a jolt of panic engulfed you. Your chest was tightening as if all the air was being sucked out of you. Renjun kept walking ahead, oblivious, until he realized you weren’t beside him

“What are you doing?” he asked and you couldn’t answer him, so you bit your lip nervously.

What should you do? Should you let his assumption slide? Or should you finally be honest and tell him what’s been bugging you all this time? What if you said something you couldn’t take back?

“Is something wrong?” he asked again, reaching for your shoulder.

“I-I…” you stammered, locking eyes with him. His gaze was steady, but your thoughts were a mess. You swallowed hard. “You’re wrong. I do feel that way.”

It was his turn to be stunned. His brows furrowed slightly, and his hand on your shoulder loosened as he looked at you with an unreadable expression. 

“Actually, I have felt that way before we even became friends,” you continued. Your chest tightened further, but there was no turning back now. “It was just a crush at first, but I got to know you and I just fell harder. I have feelings for you, Renjun and I don’t know what to do with it. I just know I had to tell you about it.”

Renjun still didn’t say anything, flustered and confused by your sudden confession. In your mind, you were screaming, hoping you could fast forward and skip this part because it was making you cringe with embarrassment. But you couldn’t back out—not now that you’d spilled everything out.

The two of you continued to stare at each other, seemingly communicating with your eyes but not coming to an understanding. Your mind raced with questions and possibilities, all pointing at Renjun and begging for him to finally say something. Every brain cell in your head was rioting, a chaos that was the complete opposite of the weighted silence stretching between you and Renjun.

And when his hand  slowly slipped away from your shoulder, you held your breath again, bracing yourself for what was about to come.

“I’m so sorry.”

Your heart sank to your stomach, and you released the breath you were holding. Those three words—though short and straightforward—were enough to sum up everything Renjun was about to say. You already knew what it meant, and despite the heavy weight settling on your chest at his words, you somehow hoped he’d surprise you with a plot twist.

“I swear I didn’t have any bad intentions,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I really just wanted to be friends with you. I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, letting out a heavy sigh.

You nodded, even though the words stung. He didn’t need to finish for you to understand. “It’s alright. I understand.”

He sighed your name out, shoulders sagging as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. You smiled, despite the turmoil in your head. It was hard to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside you—hurt, embarrassment, frustration—but you forced it down. You could handle this. You could take it like an adult.

“Renjun, it’s fineee,” you said, your voice a little lighter than you felt. You laughed softly, almost as if to convince yourself. “I said I wanted to tell you about it. I wasn’t asking you to reciprocate or anything.”

He still looked uncertain, his brows furrowed with that familiar concern you could never shake. But you didn’t want to drag this out any longer, didn’t want to let him see how much his words had hit you. It wasn’t his fault.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” you added, giving him a small wave as if to dismiss the whole conversation. “We’re still friends. Nothing’s changed.”

Renjun hesitated for a moment, still looking at you like he wasn’t sure how to handle your response. You could tell he wasn’t completely convinced, and that made you want to reassure him more.

“Really,” you said with a shrug, “I’m fine. Let’s just go. I’m starving. I need to get home and make some food, otherwise I’d be eating takeout again for dinner.”

You both continued down the path, the sound of your footsteps against the wet pavement the only noise between you. Renjun didn’t say anything more, but you could feel his gaze on you, lingering with that worried expression. He was probably still processing everything. You could almost hear him overthinking it in his head, trying to figure out if he had somehow hurt you.

But for now, you were just grateful to keep moving. You had your pride, and you had your space. And for a moment, despite the mess of it all, you felt a small wave of relief.

You said you’d be fine, that nothing would change between you and Renjun. But as the last few days of the semester rolled around, you found yourself doing what any mature, emotionally stable woman would do—avoid him like the plague. You had a perfectly reasonable excuse—last-minute assignments and projects that seemed to always appear every end of semester. You were both swamped with coursework, so really, it wasn’t avoidance; it was just conveniently timed busyness. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You also told yourself it was just temporary. You’d heal, bounce back, and return to being the friend who could sit across from Renjun without your stomach twisting into knots. After all, you were still friends. Nothing had changed, right?

Wrong. In the quiet moments, when there was nothing to distract you from your thoughts, the truth would play itself on a loop: it had changed. The ache that would creep in your chest was sharp and annoyingly persistent like a bad pop song stuck on repeat. No matter how hard you tried to bury it under denial, it kept rising to the surface, demanding to be felt.

When Renjun texted you, your responses were cheerful, using the same emojis and the same upbeat tone to mask the fact that your heart was broken. You couldn’t tell if he bought it, but since his replies sounded as casual as ever, you figured your performance deserved an Oscar. Or at least a participation trophy for effort.

Your roommates, Karina and Giselle, noticed it. They could tell something was off. You had always been the one who kept things light and bright, the one who filled the room with laughter and jokes. But now, they could see the small cracks. They could hear the silence that replaced your usual chatter, the way you kept to yourself more often. Even your jokes had gone from playful to suspiciously self-deprecating. 

“Girl, you don't look okay. Like, at all!” Giselle had told you once.

“This is fine,” you’d said with a lopsided grin. “I’m just living my sad rom-com arc. All I need now is a montage of me crying in the rain, but the weather isn’t cooperating.”

It was even more obvious to Jaemin, who, instead of teasing you or trying to get under your skin, seemed to have adopted a strategy of quiet support. He didn’t press you to talk, didn’t try to fix things, and—bless him—didn’t say, “I told you so”. You appreciated the space, but you also hated the awkwardness that had replaced his usual antics. You didn’t like it when he walked on eggshells around you, and it only made you feel worse.

“You know you can talk to us, right?” Karina offered again one night, her voice full of concern. “You don’t have to keep it all in.”

“Thanks, but really, I’m fine,” you said, waving her off with a half-hearted laugh. “This is character development. Pain builds personality, or something like that.”

Giselle handed you a tub of ice cream. “Here, have a snack while your character is developing.”

No amount of jokes or distractions could fully numb your heartache. You kept telling yourself you’d get through it, that it would pass, but every time you were alone with your thoughts, the weight settled back onto your chest. You weren’t sure how long you could keep pretending to be okay, but for now, the show had to go on.

Then, by the time spring break was around the corner, the heaviness in your chest had started to lift. It wasn’t gone entirely but it wasn’t as sharp as it had been two weeks ago. You were finding your way back to yourself already. Giselle even pointed it out one evening while you were packing for the trip home.

“Hey, look at you, humming again,” she teased, flopping onto your bed. “I was starting to think Renjun broke you for good.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled at her. “Oh please. He wasn’t even a fling. Being rejected by a crush wouldn’t break me,” you said, folding another shirt into your bag. “Besides, it’s my first spring break. I can’t walk out of this campus brokenhearted.”

“Aha, I see you’ve found your lost vigor for real fun.” Giselle gave you an approving nod, like a coach satisfied with her team’s performance. “Progress. I’ll take it.”

The next day, as you walked across campus for one last errand before heading home, you spotted Renjun. He was walking toward the library, balancing a stack of books in one hand and holding his bag in the other. You hesitated for a moment, instinctively considering walking in the opposite direction, but the impulse passed as quickly as it came.

You reminded yourself you were okay now—or at least getting there. Avoiding him would only keep you stuck, and besides, the two of you were still friends. Nothing had changed. Right?

“Hey,” you called out, jogging up to him.

Renjun turned at the sound of your voice, a small smile forming when he saw you. “Oh, hey! I thought you left already.”

“Not yet. I’m heading out later today,” you said, nodding at the books in his hand. “Still cramming in some last-minute reading?”

“No, I’m returning these,” he said with a chuckle. “What about you? Got big plans for spring break?”

You grinned. “Are you kidding me? Of course, it’s our first one as college students. You?”

He shrugged, trying to keep his tone light. “Just going home. Last night, my mom sent me a whole list of chores waiting for me when I get back.”

You laughed, and for a moment, it felt easy between you two again, like the past few weeks hadn’t happened.

“Are you okay?” he asked suddenly, his tone softening. “Sorry. I’ve been meaning to ask, but I thought it would be wrong to bring it up when we’re not face-to-face.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his question. For a moment, you thought about brushing it off, but you realized you didn’t need to. Not anymore. “I wasn’t,” you admitted with a small smile. “But only for a bit. I’m okay now. Really.”

Renjun studied your face, his expression unreadable, before he nodded. “Good. I’m glad.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, and for once, it wasn’t suffocating. It didn’t feel like something was left unsaid or hanging in the air.

“Well,” he said, shifting his bag on his shoulder, “I should get going. Have fun doing… whatever it is you do during spring break.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned. “You have fun with your chores too.”

“I don’t know if I will, but I’ll make sure to try,” he replied, chuckling. “Text me if you need anything though, okay? Or if you're bored, I don't know. Just... Feel free to talk to me whenever you want."

“I will,” you promised, waving as you walked away.

As you made your way across campus, you fished your phone out of your pocket, remembering that Karina once told you about a confessions page on X. It was called NCIT Campus Confessions, and after skimming through the posts, you typed in a submission of your own:

To HRJ, Maybe I will finally learn my lesson. -xx

You felt lighter. Maybe not entirely free from the disappointment, but enough to know that you’d be okay. After all, it wouldn’t do to carry heartache with you to a place as vibrant and alive as Aruba.

[To be continued in Wonderland]

[tarnishedxknight]

It felt so good to hold Leah again, to have her near. It did wonders to calm him down, even as the Mist was running rampant through his body. It broke his heart, the way Leah begged the princess not to hurt him. As frightened as he may have been of Ashelia's potential desire for revenge at that point, Noah was taken down a peg or two to realize that his expression of his own fear may have in turn upset Leah as well.

Ashelia shook her head. "I'll not cause him any harm. That is not how healing spells work. I am not certain how it will feel to him, but others have described it as a slight burning sensation. Nothing excruciatingly painful, and it will not cause actual harm." Seeing how nervous Leah was, Ashe put her hand on her shoulder. "I will not lie to you and say that I would not wish for justice for my father, but I am also not willing to have that justice at the expense of those I care about. Basch loves his brother, and I-"

"Oh, what nonsense is this?" Noah said with irritation.

"Choose to disbelieve it, I care not... but it is true. He does love you. And I would never want to hurt him by causing harm to you." Ashe looked back at Leah. "I also would not take a father away from his child. Doing so would make me no better than he was when he took mine from me," she said, nodding in Noah's direction. Having said her piece, Ashelia began to cure Noah.

Drawing out the Mist from Noah was easier said than done, even for an experienced magic user like Ashelia. There was... a great deal of it present. So much so that Ashe honestly wondered how it had not killed him sooner. She wondered, though, if perhaps her healing of Basch years ago had somehow also affected Noah too. Twins sometimes had such bonds as strong as that. It would explain a lot, she thought.

Noah hated having to let Ashelia touch him, but he focused instead on Leah's close presence and the feel of her hand in his. With his gaze following what Ashe was doing, Noah noticed the glowing tracks of Mist flowing just under the surface of his skin in his arms and chest begin to move towards her hands. It was as if he was watching something sentient be attracted to a food source or called by some other authority. Like glowing worms, the tracks moved to her hands and the light from their accumulation was one with which he was all too familiar.

But as Ashelia accumulated the Mist, she also dissipated it, the glowing orange particles like embers from a fire dancing out into the air and disappearing.

Noah had never seen anything like that before, and he temporarily forgot his fear as he watched it happen.

When it was over, Ashe felt a bit tired, but she smiled and nodded to Leah, glad at least that she was able to do something good for her and her baby, even if she did not care for Noah. Excusing herself and eager to visit Basch to help ground herself, Ashelia now hoped that Noah would do something good with the second chance he'd been given. On her way out, she mentioned to the staff that Noah ought to be completely and permanently cured now, and thus was likely safe to release.

"I feel lighter, both in body and spirit," Noah admitted once Ashelia was gone. His mind was clearer and he didn't feel that rage he seemed to always carry around with him. "Calmer," he added. He lifted his hands and arms, seeing that all the glowing tracks of Mist were gone. Even his breathing felt easier.

When Leah commented on his eyes, he realized that removing the Mist must have returned them to their natural state. He nodded, though he wasn't all that happy about looking more like Basch than ever now. "We were both born with blue eyes, yes. Blue like the sea, our grandfather used to say, but our mother thought they more resembled the sky." He thought for a moment, realizing that he didn't just feel healthier, he was healthier. "My amber eyes, that glow you are used to... that was always the nethicite, the Mist from it, not me."

Slowly, he leaned to touch his forehead to Leah's. "Thank you... for pushing me to do this..." he whispered. A moment later he was pulling back, though, as the same two staff members from before tentatively entered to assess Noah's mental state. Finding him much changed and considerably calmer, they did some minor tests, listening to his heart and lungs and doing a few quick cognitive exercises with him, and then discharged him. He was free to go.

Breakdown reply @tarnishedxknight

The call had made all the colour drain from Leah's face. Hearing that the man she loved was in trouble, that his condition was deteriorating frightened her beyond anything else. She had told her managers once she was off the phone that she had a family emergency and left, not sticking around to answer any questions. She didn't know how much time she had after all, and so she wasn't about to waste it not being by his side.

She had been met by one of the medical team when she arrived, briefing her on what had happened and an update of what his condition was now. They had told her that he was still showing signs of aggression and that she should be careful, though she didn't listen. Noah was her partner, he had always been calm with her and so, she wasn't scared of him.

"Noah.."

Walking into the room, she had to take a moment to catch her breath when she saw him. He was still him, though the glowing orange tracks on his skin worried her. Still, she wasn't scared. "Noah it's me... it's alright."

[wildsaltair]

a few pictures of Russell and Bridget that have made my brain go on a permanent vacation

[perilegs]

my sweet little baby man is no longer with us

[themyscirah]

Started thinking about the Amanda Waller + Ben Turner relationship again.... fuck, I'm gonna need a minute

[sttoru]

‘the king of curses doesn’t like sharing. especially not when it comes to his partner.’

☀︎｜tags. heian era!sukuna x female reader. sfw/fluff ? ig. set in the heian era, duh. jealousy & possessive themes. size difference (reader gets referred to as small!). tried to be realistic w/ sukuna’s characterisation so. . . don’t be surprised to read about him killing somebody. therefore, mentions of blood. reader is implied to have a fear of blood (dw sukuna takes care of it teehee). reader gets called 'brat'. not beta read; this sucks ass.

you were taking a stroll outside of the estate, the hem of the floral kimono you’re wearing lightly dragging along behind you. the weather was perfect with not a single cloud in sight.

a pair of silent footsteps follow yours and you sigh. even though it was an usual occurrence, you still aren’t used to having one of sukuna’s servants at your side at all times. your over protective lover insisted that it was for your own ‘safety’. as if anything or anyone could harm you whilst you stay within the four walls of the estate far up in the mountains.

sukuna is continuously busy and thus decided to assign you a personal maid that accompanies you and takes care of your every need when he isn’t able to. well - looking at the bright side of things - at least she tries her best to hide her presence from you. she tags along silently and only speaks when spoken to.

you stop near a sakura tree and tilt your head back to admire its beauty. after a few minutes pass, you hear a different pair of footsteps walking up your way. you turn your head and see a familiar male servant approaching you with his head held low.

his hands were holding onto a platter with a cup of warm tea and a few of your favorite delicacies. the brown-haired man greets you politely. maybe a bit too politely as his voice carries a bright smile, “good afternoon, my lady.”

you return the greeting with a smile of your own. it was like you to treat the servants around the estate with kindness and care — a total opposite of the king of curses. you take a pastry from the platter and look back up at the man, “thank you for bringing me these. i appreciate it greatly.”

the way you treat the ones of lower status has always been an admirable trait of yours. it might have stirred some forbidden feelings for you in the heart of the male servant. he knows that it was impossible - he’d seen how easily sukuna gets rid of those who get too close to you.

but, he isn’t here. the king of curses isn’t present in the current moment. the brown-haired male shifts in his place a little, fingernails digging into the material of the plate he was holding. he was going to do it — no one could hold him back. not even the maid who stood a couple steps away.

“y-you look very beautiful, my lady.” the servant stutters and bows his head at you. you are surprised to hear such a flattering sentence leave the lips of the man in front of you. none of the men around you had dared to be this straightforward in ages. they all knew the possible consequences that such actions could bring after all.

perhaps it was due to the absent intimidating presence of your lover. still, you can’t help but feel grateful. you giggle softly, covering your mouth with your free hand, “thank you so much.”

the male servant gulps at the sound of your laughter. ‘oh, how lucky the king of curses is - to have such a beautiful woman at his side,’ the man thought to himself. he was sure that he could treat you better than the indifferent sukuna himself.

he hesitates to continue the conversation for a second. there was an urge deep within him; to ask if you’d like to have some tea with him in the dining area. it would be extremely bold and maybe way out of line considering that you’re taken.

but, the way you reacted to his earlier compliment gave him a huge confidence boost. one that would sooner or later send him to his grave.

“would you perhaps be interested in joining me for a drink, my lady?” the servant asks and anything that happens after that instant, is all but a blur.

you can’t process the next few moments as everything happens way too fast. the last thing you remember seeing, was the servant before you. a sudden gust of wind passes by and the sounds of quick slashes fill your ears. you couldn’t figure out anything else as your vision gets blocked by something. or rather - someone.

a familiar and large hand covers the back of your head. the scent of the person holding you is also oddly familiar—a certain scent that made a shiver run down your spine from both excitement and light fear.

“sukuna?” you guess and guess correctly. your voice was muffled due to your face being smushed against his torso. you didn’t yet understand what happened, so you try to pull your body away from the king of curses, only for his grip on you to tighten.

sukuna’s face was as emotionless as ever. his eyes look down at the pile of blood near your feet — what was once a human being had now turned into nothing but a pure crimson liquid.

“foolish. absolutely foolish.” the king of curses grumbles, his tone filled with disgust. he doesn’t soften the grip on your body for even a moment. one of his four arms holds you captive against him, his hand firmly yet somehow tenderly cradling your head just above his midriff, “it seems that i cannot leave this place for a single second.”

sukuna glances at your personal maid who had been bowing to him the moment he appeared out of thin air. she could feel his piercing gaze on her and knew exactly what to do without being told: to clean up the mess that stained the garden’s pavement.

“sukuna,” you try to move your head again, but was still restricted. you let out a small whine in response. you just wanted to see your lover after spending an entire day without him. any thoughts about that servant from earlier had long vanished, “i want to see you. can i?”

the request is an innocent one. there isn’t a visible change in sukuna's expression, but the way you asked him that was quite. . . endearing, if he were to explain it. he would comply if it wasn’t for the literal bloodbath he created. which he doesn’t want you to witness.

“not yet.” he replies and effortlessly uses one of his arms to pick your small body up. your lover notices how you try to steal a glimpse at the scene behind you while he moves you around in his embrace. he grunts and gently smacks the back of your head, “no peeking, brat. do as told.”

sukuna knows how much you hate the sight of blood. he's being considerate towards you — even if you do not realise that just yet. however, he also does not have a single regret about murdering that servant. it was to be expected. anybody who dares to make a move on his woman should suffer his wrath.

plus, it's not like you don't know about sukuna's ruthless actions. you’ve come to get used to them; more and more male servants keep dissappearing without a trace after they’ve been ‘too friendly' with you. it's easy to guess who’s behind those disappearances.

it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. as long as you don't see it happening and as long as you get to stay under sukuna's care and protection - you don’t mind.

“can i look now?” you huff after sukuna has carried you away from the garden. the king of curses clicks his tongue at your impatience.

he sighs deeply before allowing you back on your own two feet, “i do not understand why you’re so adamant on looking at me, but fine.”

you waste no time and immediately open your eyes. your gaze doesn’t wander off towards your surroundings—it instantly settles on sukuna. he looked the same as usual; there was not a single change about his appearance and yet you find yourself smiling at the sight of him.

“i missed you.” you hug your lover and feel him returning the gesture a few seconds later. he looks the other way and may seem indifferent to your display of affection, though the man was secretly grateful for it. for you in general.

“mhm.” sukuna lets out a small noise of acknowledgment and that is all you get out of him. he doesn’t have to say much; his body automatically does the talking. he squeezes your body against his — your small frame disappearing behind his beefy arms.

the king of curses doesn’t understand why, but the way your eyes sparkle when looking at him, intrigues him. sukuna had never seen another human look at him like that before after all. they all cower in fear; except for you. you don’t show a single ounce of fear. thus why you are something - someone - he must keep for himself.

he has and will never have any intent on sharing you with anyone. you’re his, for as long as he exists.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Young Gf and Older bf

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Simon Ghost Riley Headcanons

SFW & NSFW

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SFW

Older bf! Simon who didn’t know how he felt about having a younger girlfriend

Older bf! Simon who was getting called “old man” by his girlfriend

Older bf! Simon who learned the hard way that some girls have expensive taste

Older bf! Simon who doesn’t talk much about his girlfriend to his mates, he feels like they’ll get on his ass about dating a young girl

Older bf! Simon who did most of the chores around the house

Older bf! Simon who stopped caring what he wore in front of people because his girlfriend is his little hype-man

“Does this work?” Simon asks coming into his shared bedroom with his girlfriend, she rolls on her side to look at him.

“They don’t match your shoes, Si.”

“What?” He looks down. “I thought they did.”

“Here, go try this on and come back at out.”

Older bf! Simon who told his girlfriend about his time in the military

Older bf! Simon who forget how young his girlfriend is, so when he makes jokes or says a movie reference she doesn’t know what he is talking about

Older bf! Simon who was honestly scared to meet his girlfriend’s family. She told them about Simon being older but not how old he was

“And how old are you, Simon?” Her dad asked leaning forward.

“I’m…40”

“40!!”

“Y/N?!”

“What?! He treats me good, he respects me, guys my age want that trad wife, Simon doesn’t, I can do or say what I want around him and feel good about myself.”

Older bf! Simon who knows everything about you. How you like your coffee, what time you’re suppose to be up for work, and he even knows when you’re about to start your period, you know when he shows up at home with bags full of pads and tampons and her favorite foods and drinks

Older bf! Simon who starts watching shows with you but complains about them but deep down he actually likes to watch them with his girlfriend

NSFW

Older bf! Simon who woke up to you in t-shirts and no shorts or pants, he likes seeing you in a t shirt and panties

Older bf! Simon who has woken up to morning wood before and needed help to get rid of it

“Love,” he kisses the shell of her ear. “Love…wake up,” he coos.

“Hmm~ Simon, not now please.”

“I know, love, you don’t have to do anything,” Simon lines himself up at her entrance and pushes himself into her

Older bf! Simon who like after argument sex

“Fuck you!”

“Oh yeah? Fuck me?” Simon carries a smirk on his face.

“Back up, Simon,” Y/n says putting her hand up on his chest to keep distance.

“Fuck me right? Fuck me?”

“Wait, wait,” your legs didn’t work for a few weeks

Older bf! Simon who tries different things with you, like BDSM you both hated it because it’ll be painful for you and Simon didn’t like you hurt

DDLG, he knows the age gap between you two but he hates the word ‘daddy’ makes him cringe

Mask kink, you both loved it, giving the illusion you were being fucked by someone else and he liked feelings your hands in his face

Voice kink, you liked it because of his deep voice already, he was on the fence, not saying your voice is annoying or anything he just didn’t get it

Knife play, you got scared when he accidentally dropped the knife and it was very close to your hand, it was the same thing with gun play you were afraid something wrong might happen

He tried to be a sub but you could barely take it seriously

Older bf! Simon who has fucked you when you were doing your work, you worked in a private office and all he had to do was shut and lock the door and bend you over your own desk

Older bf! Simon who is handsy when he’s horny

“Simon what do you want?”

“I want nothing,” he says as one of his hands were on your waste and the other snacks up to your breasts giving you a gentle squeeze and you gave him a soft moan.

“Just do it already, Simon,” she moans

Older bf! Simon who has kept a pair of your panties in his pockets and has forgotten about them before, he remembers when he accidentally sticks his hand into his pocket and feels the lace

Older bf! Simon who bought a motorcycle and takes you with him as his backpack, he found a abandoned place were no one comes to and you two had a good fuck on his bike